Harvey and the Pretty Girl - Part 2

A continuation of Harvey and the pretty girl. There is a rape scene here, sorry.

-0-0-

Harvey found himself, or rather, herself, lying naked on the carpet. She felt sticky, like she'd had slugs crawling all over her. She sat up and looked around, there was no one else in the room at the moment, but that could change at any moment. Harvey wondered where Sandra had gone, but just thinking about her for a split second started pushing Harvey into a panic attack. It also gave Harvey a weird feeling that she was in the wrong body as her nipples got hard and her lower regions got warm and moist and tingly.

'I should be getting a hard-on in my proper body!' Harvey thought to herself. The confusion that this line of thought created as her body reacted to the thought of stiff penises in a way that Harvey had never imagined reacting before was disturbing.

Harvey got to her feet as gracefully as she could manage with unexpected bits moving and jiggling in ways that she had not imagined before. Looking around, she saw a ladies coat at the other side of the room draped over the back of a chair. She recognised it as one of Sandra's, but 'beggars can't be choosers' she thought to herself as she quickly slipped it on and tried to make sure it covered all the important bits.

She didn't have any clue how she would explain herself if she was found in the office. She clearly couldn't claim to be Harvey, and she wasn't dressed to be the new temp or anything. Plus, she really didn't want to be here when or if Sandra returned. Harvey looked round for her keys and wallet, but they had vanished along with the pants that they were in.

Harvey shrugged to herself and slipped out of the door and down the back stairs. When she got to the car park she looked longingly at her (his?) car, but she realised that she didn't have the first clue how to break into it, or how to 'hotwire' it even if he could open the door.

She gingerly walked down the road with bare feet on smooth pavement, but she felt every inch as if it was sandpaper on sensitive skin. She got a few hundred yards from the office and realised, not only was she not sure where to go but there was nowhere she knew of that was within the limited distance she could walk in bare feet. She looked around wondering whether to give up completely and slide into a full on mental breakdown and sob her lungs out on the sidewalk, when she noticed a bar that she and Thomas sometimes drank at during lunch breaks. Maybe Thomas was there? Maybe Thomas could help her?

When she walked in the bar many of the patrons turned to look at her. Seeing her reflection in the mirror behind the bar she could understand why. The thin coat did little to disguise the fact that she was naked underneath it and she looked like a short blonde curvy teenage wet dream. Even with no makeup and an expression that suggested she was off her meds and terrified, she was turning herself on. Not good.

She caught sight of Thomas and started walking towards him. As she got closer it was beginning to register that this was maybe not the best idea. The look Thomas was giving her was a strange mix of bravado, contempt and desperation.

"Thomas! Am I glad to see you! I'm having the weirdest day. You're not going to believe it, but it's me, Harvey!" Harvey said.

"Pull the other one, sweetheart!" Thomas replied, "You're going to have to try harder than that. You don't look anything like him!"

"It was that bitch, Sandra! She did this to me and then she vanished. I woke up like this, naked on the floor of the office." Harvey said, fighting back tears of anger and frustration.

Thomas seemed to soften his stance a bit at her obvious distress. "There, there" he said, trying to be conciliatory but just sounding condescending. He reached to pat Harvey's hand in a clumsy way. Harvey was shocked by the discomfort the feel of Thomas's flesh caused. It wasn't like getting burned, exactly. It felt more like Harvey imagined handling radioactive material would feel. Harvey pulled her hand back with a shudder.

Thomas said "Don't be like that! Don't be a tease like all those other bitches!"

Harvey stammered from the pain and fear "Y-you don't understand, S-sandra did something to me. It h-hurt when you touched me!"

Thomas thought for a moment, then he said "Maybe a few beers will help?"

Harvey thought that was Thomas's answer to everything, 'maybe another beer will help'. 'Still', she thought to herself, 'I deserve a beer after the day I've had, especially if Thomas is buying!' "Sure, if you're buying. My wallet disappeared with my penis" Harvey said, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Thomas gulped at that thought, and headed off to the bar keeper to get the drinks. Harvey climbed up onto a stool next to the table and shuddered as her naked backside came into contact with the wood of the stool seat, sticky from spilled beer. She lifted herself up by the armrests and struggled to get a layer of the coat's fabric between the wood and her ass, but the coat was too short. The best she could do was tuck a flap part-way under her. It struck Harvey that she must be flashing the patrons of the bar like she was Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. She slammed her knees together. What was most disturbing about that thought was that it didn't feel as humiliating as she thought it should. In another context she might feel proud of this body.

Thomas arrived with the beers and Harvey grabbed hers and took a big gulp. She struggled to keep it down as her smaller body was less able to deal with the gas released as she gulped and she ended up belching in an un-ladylike way. She sipped at her beer after that, but it went down quickly and her thoughts started to slow as the beer took effect. Even allowing for her smaller body and reduced tolerance for alcohol it seemed like a disproportionately large effect.
Realisation hit, with a surge of adrenaline that allowed her to slur out "You roofied me! You c…", and then blackness.

*-*-*

Harvey woke to a world of pain. She was naked in a grubby bed with a dark shape on top of her and it felt like he was ramming a red hot fire extinguisher into places that she didn't have a few hours ago! Every touch burned her flesh. She screamed and panicked and thrashed around but Thomas just laughed and held her down as he grunted and pumped his semen into her.

To Harvey, it felt like a gallon of molten metal burning its way through her tenderest flesh. She wished it was a nightmare and she could wake up. She wished that she could pass out and end the pain and humiliation. But instead, the familiar paralysis of the curse returned and she was left with tears leaking down her cheeks as Thomas tried to get himself hard again and her body felt such pain that she thought she should be able to smell her flesh smouldering. She couldn't make a sound or move.

Then there was a noise, or, more accurately, two noises, or several noises but two events. The first event sounded a little like the ripping sound you got when you tore raw flesh apart, then there was a sound like wind howling far away that seemed to sing an unearthly melody. Then there was a slithering splat sound, like someone had tipped a lorry load of wet squid onto Thomas' bedroom carpet.

Harvey couldn't really tell what was happening, but thankfully Thomas stopped trying to force his limp penis back into her abused vagina.

Thomas said "Who the?... I mean WHAT the fuck are..", then there was a thud and it sounded as though Thomas' body had fallen on the floor from the bed.

Harvey heard Sandra's voice, both through his ears and, weirdly, echoing inside his head. "Harvey, I'm sorry, no one deserves this and I know it's partly my fault. I can make it better, but it will tie you closer to me than either of us want. But I don't know another way to…"

Harvey interrupted her with a cry of pain and rage in her head "KILL ME! Make it STOP! Oh my god, the PAIN!"

Sandra said "I'll make the pain stop, but there's a cost, I'm afraid." She sighed and Harvey felt human-seeming lips kiss his forehead.

Then the pain transformed from burning agony to soothing warmth. Harvey felt filled with energy and joy. Her body tingled with vitality and, just when she thought she would cum, or explode or something she felt the excess energy leave her body and flow into Sandra. She wasn't sure how she knew it was Sandra but she could feel a link to her, she could sense her presence in the back of his mind…

'Yes,' came Sandra's voice, silently intruding in Harvey's mind, 'we are linked now, for eternity'. There was a rueful undertone to the thought and an acceptance that this was inevitable. 'I made you this way and the greater powers have agreed that you are my responsibility now, for better or worse' Sandra's voice said.

"What did you do to me this time?" Harvey asked.

"Well, male energy will trigger your curse and kill you. I can't dismantle that curse, it's an instinctive thing. But I can add another energy matrix that will convert male energy into demon energy and feed it to me, siphoning it off from your body". Sandra said.

“Was any part of that English?” Harvey asked. She thought for a moment and asked, “Why can’t this ‘energy matrix’ convert male energy to female energy?”

“Oh… I never thought of that…” Sandra said, “I guess we demons have some blindspots that you humans just skip straight past. Plus, it would be like converting antimatter to matter without any intervening steps and might cause your head to explode! Trust me, this is easier and safer for you, all the bad things end up coming to me”.

“Ah, sarcasm, right… I guess I deserve that. Why do I feel so good?” Harvey asked.

“You feel good?” Sandra asked.

“Real good” Harvey purred.

“Ha. Well, before the matrix siphons the demon energy to me it uses just enough to fix any outstanding damage you might have, then the excess is shunted to me. I can use it, but you… well, let’s just say the results could be unpredictable if you had a sudden excess of demon energy” said Sandra.

“And we already know what a sudden excess of unmanaged male energy does to me!” Harvey said “Where’s…?” Harvey sat up and looked around, Thomas’ slumped body lay beside the bed, his eye was already starting to bruise and he had a number of other marks that looked like he had been simultaneously punched, strangled, had the suckers of an octopus make round marks on his arm and his clothing burned off with acid and frozen with dry ice.

“What the hell happened to him?” Harvey asked.

“He pissed me off” Sandra said as she shrugged “I don’t like rapists”.

Harvey stood up, walked over to him and lined up a kick to the crotch. She clearly thought for a moment and then she lay down on the floor next to him, snuggled into the curve of his body like they were spooning.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Sandra asked.

"Oh! I'm not wearing boots or shoes and I might dislocate a toe if I kick him as hard as he deserves…" Harvey said as she smashed her elbow into Thomas' crotch with all the force she could possibly muster, "...but I read somewhere that the elbow is the hardest part of the human body you can hit someone with!" She gave a big smile and as she got to her feet she noticed with satisfaction that, even though he was unconscious, Thomas' breathing was wheezing now. Harvey started looking for some clothes.

"Careful" said Sandra "with that demon energy in your system… you are better off as a lust demon/human hybrid than a vengeance demon!"

"Really? Why is that?" Harvey asked.

"We have better dental," Sandra said, absolutely straight-faced.

Harvey and the pretty girl - part 3

Sandra explains some things to Harley

-0-0-

Harvey found a motley collection of clothes and dressed herself as well as she was able, she couldn’t find any underwear that she could fit in or bring herself to wear. She went through Thomas’ wallet and took some money. Sandra looked at her wearily and said “I have more than enough money for both of us, for a while.”

Harvey said “Thanks, but I don’t know when or if you will vanish from the face of existence, I need to find a way to make my own way in the world”.

“By robbing your rapists?” asked Sandra.

“Well, no… I’m going to try never to be raped again, thank you. But you understand why I don’t exactly trust you at the moment?” Harvey said.

“Oh! Absolutely. I mean, I did save your life and saved you from a rapist” said Sandra when Harvey interrupted her.

“He’d already done it when you arrived…” she said softly.

“I’m...sorry, I got back as soon as I could. I wouldn’t have left you there if I had a choice. They/it only let me back when your curse started to act again. You are my responsibility now, whether you like it or not. Everything that you do for good or ill and everything that happens to you, for good or ill, reflects on me now. Your fate determines whether I’m allowed to stay here” Sandra said.

“Where do you go, if you can’t stay here?” Harvey asked.

“You can’t imagine… let’s just say, it wouldn’t be boring!” Sandra said. She didn’t appear to be terrified. Harvey shrugged and figured it wasn’t too bad to live in hell if you were a demon. But it might be better to live on Earth if you could.

“What happens to me? If you go?” Harvey asked.

“I… don’t know. Nothing good, I expect. Either you come and join me, after a nightmare time on Earth, or… well, I wasn’t kidding about a fate worse than death,” Sandra said, “Death and having your body and soul dragged to hell would seem like a blessing compared with what the curse would do to you. I’m sorry”.

“I was trying to stab you with a pair of scissors,” Harvey said simply, “You don’t have to keep apologising for defending yourself”.

“But I did goad you into it, a bit. This is beyond self-defence as well.” Sandra said, “Look, it’s not all bad. You may well grow to love it. You’ll probably look like this literally forever and there are a lot of benefits that go with this body…”

“Like what?” Harvey asked.

“Well, the sex is amazing!” Sandra said with a smile.

“I’m not gay!” Harvey said fiercely.

“Maybe not, but your body is omnisexual, and that will start to influence your mind sooner or later,” Sandra said.

“Omni sexual?” Harvey asked, turning it into two words.

“When you are in the mood, and you will be in the mood, you will, how can I put this…” Sandra searched for the right phrase.

“Fuck anyone?” Harvey asked.

“Well, replace ‘anyone’ with ‘everything’ and you’re on the right track,” said Sandra with a smirk.

“And that’s how you get your jollies?” Harvey asked, “Turning me into a nympho?”

“It wasn’t deliberate,” Sandra said patiently, “I was trying to save your life and the only template I had was myself!”

“So… I’m a rip-off copy of you, and you are a psychotic nymphomaniac?” Harvey said.

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds bad, I prefer ‘fabulous lust-demon’, but yes - that’s the gist of it.” Sandra agreed.

“Well, it’s better than a fate worse than death, I guess… What are we doing now?” Harvey asked.

“Well, for a normal girl I would urge you to file a rape charge, but…. Well, you don’t have a mark on you and he has crushed nuts, so I think we could be on shaky ground…” Sandra said.

“No, I’m happy to skip that. I don’t think he’ll try that shit again. I don’t think he’ll be able to try for the foreseeable future… Could we turn him into a nympho, too?” Harvey said.

“Really? I’m in enough trouble for what I did to you in self-defence!” Sandra said.

“You’re right, besides, he’d probably only enjoy it. Let’s get out of here. Do you have a place?” Harvey said.

“Yes, my place would be better, I think,” Sandra said, and led the way out to her car.

-0-0-

Sandra's house was not quite what Harvey was expecting. It was large, but not ostentatious, it was set back from the road. It was discreet.

"Have you thought about changing your name?" Sandra asked, as they went down the short drive to the house, "You could stick with something that sounds similar; Holly, Haley…?"

"Harley? Like Harley Quinn. I feel like a blonde nutjob," Harvey said.

"Sure, I can see the logic in what you say," Sandra said.

“Thanks,” the newly-christened ‘Harley’ said, drily.

-0-0-

When they went inside Harley found that the entire house was tastefully understated. The kitchen was large and well-equipped, the living room had a large sofa, a pair of smaller sofas, and a reasonable size TV.

Sandra showed Harley upstairs as Harley raised an eyebrow.

“Let me show you where you will be sleeping” Sandra said.

At the top of the stairs, there was a bedroom with a king-size bed, built-in wardrobes, and a dressing table. Sandra indicated a door at the other side of the room and said “You have your own en-suite”.

They went further down the landing, past a large bathroom and another similar bedroom.

“This is my room…” Sandra said and showed Harley a large tastefully appointed bedroom that was carefully dressed and looked like it had come from a home decoration magazine as the ‘after’ image.

Sandra indicated a fourth bedroom. “That’s the ‘Red Room’,” she said.

Harley opened the door, took one look at the decor, and took a step back, “What the fuck!” she yelped.

The room was black and blood red, with silver symbols on the carpet and walls. The bed was heavy oak with black and red silk sheets and covers and manacles fixed to the top and bottom. One wall was covered with what looked like instruments of torture and sex-toys mounted side-by-side.

“I used to have a human house-mate,” Sandra explained, “The sexual energy that leaked through was enough to keep me… sated”.

Sandra licked her lips at the thought of this.

“D-did she… know? What you are?” Harley asked.

Sandra considered this for a moment and then said “I don’t think she ever suspected, she was just a freak. She obviously realised that I wasn’t bothered by her… predilections”.

“What happened to her?” Harley asked, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer.

“I’m not sure” Sandra admitted, looking sheepish. “To be honest, I probably should have discouraged her. It can get… attention… from things you don’t want attention from if you have all these things and you hang out near a lust demon. I thought I could protect her anyway. But when I came home one day recently, she was gone”.

“Couldn’t it be something mundane, a jealous lover she wanted to skip out on or she ran out of money for this life-style?” Harley asked.

“Oh! I never thought of that! That’s sooo boring” Sandra said, clearly relieved, “Of course, you’re absolutely right! In this plane, that’s much more likely than…”. She waved her arms in disturbing shapes that sent a shiver down Harley’s spine.

“Right,” said Harley, warily.

“Probably best to redecorate before the police come looking, though?” Sandra asked.

“Um, not really…” Harley said “it would look as if you have something to hide. If you just make it clear that you… er, and I… we… had nothing to do with… what was her name?”

“Raven,” said Sandra.

“Was she a Goth?” Harley asked.

“No, she was American” Sandra said.

“But she had black hair and clothes and too much makeup?” Harley persisted.

“Well… yes, I suppose…” Sandra said.

“Do you have an address for her family?” Harley asked.

“Oh! I never thought to ask. You humans all have ‘family and friends’, don’t you?” Sandra said.

“Not all of us, and not any more” Harley said, somewhat bitterly.

“Oh! Tish and tosh!” Sandra said, “We’re closer than sisters now, you’ll see! We’ll go out looking for a man for you tonight, together, and you’ll feel better in the morning”.

“What?” said Harley, flatly.

“Well,” Sandra said “I didn’t want to worry you… but you still have a touch of that curse on you. It could grow in the night. So… it’s probably best if you have sex with a man tonight so that you have enough demon-energy to sort it all out, once and for all”. She ended with a cheery grin.

“There’s no way I could… I mean… I’m NOT Gay!” Harley shouted.

“I know dear… but, well… you’re not male anymore… so it wouldn’t be gay, do you see? Not that there’s anything wrong with lesbians. They’re just not very… filling” Sandra said.

Harley’s eyes went wide at the last word.

“I don’t want ‘filling’!” she said.

“Maybe not,” Sandra agreed, “but you NEED it. Seriously. It won’t be a bad thing, your body will ensure you really enjoy it!”

Harley felt exasperated and frustrated. Also, she was appalled to find, a little horny.

Harley sighed, “There’s no other way?” she asked, sounding like a little girl being offered cod liver oil.

Sandra shook her head.

-0-0-

Later that evening, Sandra and Harley pulled up in a taxi outside a classy bar and restaurant downtown. Sandra got out first, flowing smoothly out of the door, her thin dress accentuating the long lines of her legs. Harley watched her with frank admiration. Sandra was an exquisite creature. With a start, Harley realised it was her turn to get out. Sandra offered her a hand and Harley scooted across the backseat to exit.

Sandra held up a finger and said, “Wait, compose yourself, position your dress correctly and swing yourself out…”

Harley tried to replicate the smooth movement that Sandra had executed, smoothing the black clingy fabric of her dress against her body and legs as she slid out.

“Well done!” Sandra whispered to her, as they clutched their purses and headed for the door.
Sandra stalked but Harley tottered on her heels, trip-tripping as she went, the tight skirt limiting her strides.

The Maître d' smiled as he saw the two women approach.

“Ms Sable!” he said, clearly pleased to see Sandra again “and this must be?...”

“My sister, Harley” Sandra said, smiling.

“I see” he said, turning to Harley “Welcome to Renard’s, my dear”. He turned to Sandra and said “Your usual table will be a little while, can I suggest cocktails at the bar until it is ready? I have to ask, is your sister ‘of age’?”

Sandra smirked “Despite how innocent she may appear, I can confirm that she is definitely an adult”.

“Very well” the Maître d' said gravely, and indicated a waiter to direct them to the bar.

- - -

A short while later the two women were sat in a bar area at a small table with menus full of sweet and sticky fruit based drinks that Harley would never have looked at before.

“I suppose a beer is out of the question?” Harley said.

“You don’t need all those empty carbs, plus it’s hard to convince people to take you seriously when you are trying to gag down a pint and belching your name backwards. No, I think that you would do better with a white wine spritzer, just enough to take the edge off without getting you drunk and out of control” Sandra said. She raised a finger to a waitress and ordered an Old Fashioned for herself and the white wine spritzer for Harley.

“So…” said Harley, as they waited for their drinks “what’s the plan here?”

“I don’t think we need much of a plan” Sandra scoffed “we throw you to the wolves and I sort out the remains... with your body and naivety there shouldn’t be any problem in getting you laid!”

Harley tensed in shock as she studied Sandra’s face.

“Too blunt?” Sandra asked.

“A bit, I’m feeling a bit… vulnerable, right now!” Harley said.

“Well...ok, if you relax and let your body ‘go with the flow’ the sex part will be fine” Sandra said.

“The ‘sex part’ is as far from fine as I can imagine. It’s the whole part, anything else is… I don’t know, not an issue!” Harley said.

“Ah, if only that were true… You see, if it was just about getting laid I could put you in fishnets on a street corner and leave you to it. You would be addicted to cock in 25 hours and a danger to any passing male within a week. No, what we need to do is keep your libido under control, and mine, to be frank, and finish this evening with our reputations largely intact, as empowered women who are not prudes or whores.” Sandra said, “Now, look around, what do you see?”

“A lot of creepy guys staring at us and some women kicking their partners under the table?” Harley said, after looking around.

“Who is dangerous?” Sandra asked.

“Dangerous? Dangerous how?” Harley said. Looking around she saw an older man drinking alone with his back to the wall watching the bar. She turned her head around so he couldn’t see her face and said to Sandra, “The older guy over behind me drinking alone”.

Sandra smiled. “Very good” she said, “he’s clearly a predator. You have to watch out for other supernatural creatures, as well - but there’s nothing significant here this evening”.

“Supernatural creatures?” Harley asked.

“Well, now you know magic and demons are real, you didn’t think I was the only one, did you?” Sandra asked, "We will shelve this lesson for another time. Let's focus on tonight's mission".

"Finding me a man" Harley said glumly.

"Catching you the right man to scratch that nasty itch you have developing!" Sandra said brightly.

Sandra made a gesture, as if she was letting go of something and Harley suddenly felt lust surge through her body. It wasn't how her old body had reacted and the myriad differences lent the experience a novelty that made it more stimulating than she could stand. Harley's eyes went wide, her jaw dropped and her nipples went hard as she whimpered in need.

Sandra hurriedly grasped at unseen things and the sensations eased.

"W-what the f-fuck was that?" Harley said softly. The use of the word fuck caused her some difficulty, her mind was trying to avoid what her body was compelling her to do.

"Your need," Sandra said, "I'm trying to keep it in check and direct your energies in a more constructive manner. But be in no doubt. You need this and you need me!"

Sandra looked around the room and spotted a pair of men at a nearby table. She turned away from them subtly and caught Harley's eye. "Over my shoulder… don't stare, be subtle… got them? Two business men, I think, one older one younger. I will take the older, the younger one is yours. He just doesn't know it yet. How shall we let him know?" Sandra said.

Harley had spotted the two. The older guy repulsed her, too smooth and self assured. The younger guy looked bored and dejected. A child's head on a man's body. He had facial hair, but it didn't look convincing.

"Is he even legal?" Harley asked in a whisper.

"Are you?" Sandra replied “Ah, we’ve been spotted!”

The older man was leading the younger one over. He spoke to Sandra: “It may seem a bit presumptuous of me, but my younger colleague is not very talkative in my presence and it is so dull to dine without some conversation, would you young ladies like to join us for dinner, maybe you could loosen Josh’s tongue?”

Josh was blushing so red at this point that it seemed unlikely he would add anything to the conversation all night, if there were women involved.

At that point a waiter from the restaurant area arrived and said “Ms Sable, your table is ready. Will these,” he looked at the two men, “gentlemen, be joining you?”

Sandra looked at Harley as she spoke to the waiter, “I’m sure we can squeeze two more in, thank you”.

“Very good, madam” the waiter replied and led the party to a table near the rear of the restaurant area.

Once they were seated, the older man said “Please let us introduce ourselves, My name is Andrew Dyer, this is my colleague Josh Klein…”

Sandra filled in “I am Sandra, this is my sister, Harley”.

Harley smiled at the two men. Josh smiled back weakly, but he had trouble looking her in the eyes.

The evening started pretty weakly with talk of food and wine, Sandra and Andrew carried most of the conversation, but, as the evening wore on, Harley and Josh started talking about games and DVDs and internet memes and Harley found that she actually had a good time.
As their meal came to a close Andrew tried to convince the women to come back to their hotel for a nightcap. Sandra wasn't having any of it and insisted the boys could get them a cab to take them all back to her place.

Andrew gave in with charm and good grace. Josh looked worried that things weren't going to plan. As they pulled up outside the unassuming but clearly nice place the guys both relaxed, it wasn't far from their hotel and they hadn't been lured to some ghetto or factory somewhere.
Sandra got Andrew to sit on the sofa while she poured him a scotch. Harley offered Josh a coke and they went to the kitchen to find some.

While she was fixing the drinks Harley could feel Sandra loosening her grip on Harley's libido.

"Do you want to see my room?" Harley asked, partly out of desperation.

"Sure" said Josh, clearly intrigued.

Harley tried to sneak him up the stairs, but one glance round the door as they went past convinced her that Andrew was likely to be busy for a while.

When they got to her room Josh was clearly confused.

"Where's your PC?" he asked.

"Ah, at home. I don't normally live with my sister" Harley explained.

"What shall we play then?" Josh asked.

At that moment Sandra let go of her control completely.

"I'm sure you'll think of something…" Harley said as she pulled him over to the bed.

"Oh! Right…" Josh said.

Harley was struggling. Not with being a woman and having a man about to put his thing in her. At this point her body's need was riding her so hard she would have taken on the football team with a smile. No, Harley's problem was how to express that need. As a man, beyond a certain point, Harley kind of knew that things happened because the man did things. The woman could help, but the man… the man was the instigator. But, how could she initiate sex, as a woman?

She knew how fragile the male ego could be, and she was desperately trying not to show how nervous and desperate she was. But if Josh didn't rip every scrap of clothing from her body and fill her body with his seed right the hell now, she was likely to start screaming and clawing and… But, that wasn't going to get her what she needed, so… how to seduce him?

She turned her back to him and asked "Can you help me with my zip?"

He pulled it down and she let the dress slide from her hips and pool around her feet. Josh's breath caught in his throat. Harley glanced over to see if she had gone too far. Apparently Josh's libido was in a similar state to hers, he was already showing an impressive bulge and his eyes were dark. Harley glanced at the bedside cabinet and saw that Sandra had left a box of condoms out.

She turned to Josh who was fumbling with his buttons. "Can I help with that?" She purred, and reached for the waistband of his trousers. Josh ripped his shirt over his head as soon as a few buttons were undone, it joined his jacket on the floor. His trousers and shoes rapidly followed and Harley pushed him down on the bed.

Things got a little crazed after that. There were a couple of things that stood out for Harley. She liked Josh's body, the guy must work out or something because his shoulders and arms were enormous.

She was so disappointed when he came the moment she put him in her mouth, but it was fine because she enthusiastically swallowed every drop as the demon energy started to sizzle through her and her warm mouth had him hard again in seconds. She got the condom on him without him coming again and her first orgasm came during some energetic missionary sex, with her knees being pushed towards her ears.

Harley had never really stopped to think how vulnerable and ridiculous the positions were for a woman before. Josh flipped her over to a prone position and pulled her into doggy position, as Josh got into his stride Harley just let his strength take her. Her second orgasm shook her to her core as she surrendered herself body and soul to Josh, she felt completely helpless, physically and mentally to stop him and she just opened herself to every sensation of his body mashing itself into her. She screamed with ecstacy and her body shook as her muscles spasmed around him. Her physical reaction was so strong that he couldn't hold back any longer and his orgasm ripped through him, which gave a massive jolt of energy to Harley just at the peak of her orgasm which smashed through her like she plugged every pleasure nerve ending into a mains socket. As she convulsed around his dick which was impaling her she felt a conduit to Sandra open up and the excess demon energy sped downstairs to her as she humped Andrew on the sofa. Harley felt connected to all four of them as they screamed and came together.

Harley tried to get Josh to stiffness again and a few minutes later she had another condom on him and she had him naked on his back as she rode him cowgirl style. She managed to come another two times and squeezed a trickle of energy from him, but there was nothing like the same ecstacy. She had to admit defeat and let him slide into slumber then. She felt frustrated that she didn't have more men lined up to feed her urges. But he did hold her in his huge arms as he slipped off to sleep.

Harvey and the pretty girl - part 4

Sandra helps Harley get ready for Halloween.

The next day was October the 31st. After Sandra and Harley had finished a leisurely breakfast with their partners from the night before and seen them off, Sandra turned to Harley and said “Right, shower for you… though I don’t think it will wash off that smirk!”

Harley purred and stretched, “I must admit, I feel a lot more relaxed about this body today!”

Sandra grinned, turned Harley around and pointed her up the stairs and swatted her behind to get her moving. “Shower!” she commanded, “Then we will see what outfit we can wear to the party tonight, I’m thinking ‘Slutty Schoolgirl’ or ‘Slutty Nurse’ or ‘Slutty Teacher’ or…”

“I’m sensing a theme?” Harley pouted.

“Well… you wouldn’t want to give the wrong idea, would you?” Sandra scoffed as she answered.

“But there’s more to me than a fabulously sexy body and the overriding urge to copulate!” Harley protested.

“Play to your strengths, honey.” Sandra said, “We don’t need to draw attention to your many weaknesses!”

Harley harrumphed and stomped up the stairs. There were only two things that stopped this from being very effective; one was that her body let her down, she was too light and her wider hips prevented a proper stomp (it looked more like a cock-eyed model’s walk), the other was that she felt too damned good this morning to put her heart into it. Last night burned all the doubt and confusion out of her. Plus, she had Fun! Harley couldn’t remember the last time she let go and enjoyed herself doing anything.

In the shower, she let her hands wander, remembering how Josh had touched her. Her orgasm, when it came, was shockingly sudden and threatened to leave her unable to stand as her thigh muscles twitched and her breath came heavily.

“OY!” Sandra shouted up the stairs “I felt that! Get a move on before you use all the hot water!”

“No privacy!” Harley muttered to herself and finished off washing.

Sandra drove them into town and took Harley to a strange little shop hidden in a little pedestrian mall. It was only about 100 feet from the High Street, but it felt like it was from another world and another time.

Sandra told Harley, “They dress this up like ‘Diagon Alley’ whenever there is a J K Rowling book release, and the bookstore over there has all their staff dress up as wizards!”

“I can believe it!” Harley agreed enthusiastically, “I never even knew this was here and I have been coming into town for years now.”

They went into the shop. It wasn’t immediately apparent what the shop sold. There was a counter, and some dark wood paneling, and a corridor that disappeared back into the depths of the shop. The shop display had two mannequins, but it wasn’t clear if it was a jewellery store, an exploration and hiking outfitters or a medieval weaponry shop. Either way, Harley was fairly confident that the female mannequin would be arrested for indecent exposure for showing that much plastic.

Sandra led Harley into the shop which opened out into an Aladdin's cave of wonders. There were costumes and accessories of every conceivable type, and some that were frankly a little inconceivable. There were mass-produced cheap plastic props made in China and full exquisitely crafted Victorian outfits that looked vintage. Some of the props were tacky, like the ‘Kiss me quick’ hats and the blow up sex dolls and some were beautiful and looked real, like someone had dropped the real Crown Jewels in a thrift shop. Also, the shop had a tardis-like effect, it seemed to be much bigger than the confines of the outside of the shop would allow for.

Suddenly, the shopkeeper appeared behind them. He had glasses, a moustache and a fez.

“How can I help you” he paused slightly, and continued “Ladies, today?”

“I would like something wickedly sexy and mildly intimidating for myself and something playful and flirty and slightly scandalous for her,” Sandra said.

“Very good, ma’am,” the shopkeeper said. He disappeared behind a door that Harley hadn’t noticed before, because it was so covered in merchandise, and he reappeared a moment later with two large brown gift boxes. He went to hand one to Sandra, shook his head, changed his mind and then handed her the other box. Harley took the remaining box.

“The changing rooms are at the back of the shop,” the shopkeeper told them.

Sandra led Harley further into the shop, the lighting got worse as they got to the back and Harley was glad that Sandra opened the door to let him into a small brightly lit room with a mirror.

“Hurry up and change and meet me out here,” Sandra told her, as she stepped into another room next door.

Harley went in and opened the box. It wasn’t clear what the outfit was meant to be, but it was too complex, too ornate and covered in gems and gold. It was mostly white silk and diaphanous crinoline. As Harley was studying the outfit she glanced in the mirror and there was a lurch, like a glitch in the Matrix, and she found that she was looking at herself, wearing the outfit.

“I’m a slutty Angel,” Harley muttered to herself, as she turned to leave the room. She noticed that there was another door on the opposite side of the changing room, but she didn’t feel like risking that today, so she took one last look at herself before heading back out of the door she had used before to come into the room.

Harley wasn’t sure what character she was meant to be, it looked a little like the stylised anime girls of Sailor Moon or some of the online computer games. There was a halo-like headpiece that shone with its own hidden light source. Her cleavage was on display like she was wearing a Dirndl. The top felt like a corset, had mated with a waistcoat and covered itself in buttons and laces. The skirt was short, split up the front so that it almost showed her panties and had masses of lace, almost like a built-in tutu. There were garter belts tied down to some thigh-high white silk stockings and ankle boots with a high heel.

She looked like a school boy’s wet dream of a fantasy virgin princess.

Sandra looked like the inverse of her outfit, where Harley’s outfit had white silk Sandra’s had black vinyl or latex. Where Harley had gold highlights, Sandra had blood-red detailing that looked like ancient runes. Sandra’s outfit had thigh-high boots with laces up the front that gapped to show the fishnet stocking underneath. Sandra’s outfit had a plunging neckline that showed off her navel, and threatened to show much more than that. She had a headpiece that was reminiscent of a pair of horns that was so black it seemed to suck the light into itself.
Sandra also had dramatic makeup that highlighted her cheekbones and deep eye sockets.

“Muhahaha” she cackled, when she saw Harley.

“Eep!” went Harley in mock fright.

“This is perfect!” Sandra told the shopkeeper, “How should we pay you?”

“The usual way will be fine,” the shopkeeper told her, “The usual enchantment is on the boxes. Will your… ward… be ok with that?”

“Harley will be fine with that,” Sandra assured him. She handed an empty costume box to Harley and told her “Hold it like this…” as she mimed opening the box with one hand while supporting it with another. In the blink of an eye, Harley was naked and the costume was neatly packed in the box.

“Oops!” said Sandra brightly “Go and change and I’ll see you back here in a moment. Sandra went into her changing room leaving Harley standing there naked and stunned.

The shopkeeper gave her an amused look. Harley shrugged, there was no one else in the store and the shopkeeper was a man, so he wasn’t going to complain about seeing her fabulous body. Harley smiled at the shopkeeper and tilted her head to one side as she sized him up. The shopkeeper began to look a little nervous. Harley shook herself, what was she thinking? That she would bang a strange shopkeeper in the middle of a store in broad daylight? She hurried off to the changing room to clothe herself and met up with Sandra a few moments later.

Sandra put her box in a carrier bag and Harley gingerly did the same.

Harley realised that while she was with Sandra her urges were not as strong.

Sandra took Harley to lunch and then the two of them did some more shopping that afternoon. When they got home to Sandra’s house she dished up some snacks from the fridge, made a cup of tea for each of them and told Harley of her plans for the evening.

They were like a couple of young female roommates. Harley couldn't get over how normal this felt. Much more normal than her previous existence of angst and dread and agonising over little slights. It wasn’t just because she had someone (something) to share her life with now… suspicion hit her…

“Did you change me?” Harley blurted out.

“D’Uh” Sandra replied after the briefest of pauses.

“I’m not talking physically, I mean… mentally. Who am I now?” Harley asked.

“Well, you are Harley Sable. And reality is trying to heal a Harvey shaped hole. So your life as Harley is going to be easier than you imagine for a while and your life as Harvey will fade from everyone’s memory.” Sandra said.

“Huh?” Harley said.

Sandra sighed. “Ok,” she said, “you may not believe this… but you have seen monsters and demons a ton of times before…”

“I have never knowingly seen a demon before, you kept yourself pretty well hidden. And what do you mean ‘Monsters’?” Harley said, interrupting Sandra while she was trying to find the words to explain what she meant.

“Monsters are what we call supernatural creatures who are too large or too weird to blend in. Demons are from another place to your universe. It doesn’t matter...whenever there is something different to what you call ‘Reality’ the Powers That Be will work to make it seem normal, partly to protect you and partly to prevent Reality unravelling,” Sandra said.

“Unravelling? That sounds… I don’t know, a bit messy?” Harley said.

“Well, yes… Where I come from… Well, you literally can’t imagine what it’s like… Time, Gravity, Light - all those things follow rules here. Where I’m from… well, they’re more like suggestions, than rules, I guess.” Sandra said.

“That’s how you can do magic, I guess?” Harley asked.

“Well… it’s more complicated than that. Where I’m from, having Tuesday consistently come after Monday would be considered Magic. Interacting with your Reality involves negotiating some complex rules, but there are some grey areas that can be exploited. But there can be a cost…” Sandra said.

“Go on,” Harley said.

“Well, you can incur the curiosity of something, a demon, something older and more powerful, or the Powers That Be” said Sandra.

“I can hear the capitals when you say that, what do you mean - Powers That Be? God?” Harley asked.

“I’ve never met Yahweh, or any kind of omnipotent, omniscient being, what you would call a God, I guess. But there are more and more powerful beings in a kind of hierarchy. But most of them seem to be completely indifferent to humanity. You should probably be thankful for that.” Sandra said.

Harley shivered as she thought of the implications.

“But there are… I guess you could call them aspects of reality that hold sway here and now that the rest of us have to answer to. That makes them sound more like people than powers. There are, I’m struggling for the right words here… beings who are far more potent than you can imagine who act as intermediaries for the powers and tell us what the powers want and what they will accept. It’s not ‘want’ or ‘need’ as you understand the terms… Look, just accept that something you will never meet and cannot understand wants the world to see and expect Harley, to forget about Harvey and completely abhors demons and the supernatural in their native forms. Can you do that?” Sandra said.

“Er… Ok? I guess. There is no God but there are things that have a more immediate impact on my reality than god or gods ever did?” Haley said.

“Like me!” Sandra said with a sunny smile, trying to break the oppressive atmosphere that had descended on the bright, sunny kitchen for a moment.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Harley asked, doing her part to lighten the mood.

“Oh! We need to get ready! I have got us invitations to a fancy Halloween party. There will be lots of attractive rich guys there. As long as you can behave yourself until we can get a couple of them back here then we should be in for a good night” Sandra said.

“Attractive rich guys? Won’t they all have wives or girlfriends?” Harley asked, a little dejected “Wouldn’t we have more… you know… ‘fun’ at a college party?”

“To be honest, I’m still a little worried about your limits and boundaries. Let’s take it slow and try and keep it within acceptable limits so that we don’t trigger anything?” Sandra said. Her cheery grin did little to placate Harley.

“That doesn’t sound ominous, at all!” Harley said.

Sandra shooed Harley away to shower and get ready before using the magical box to get changed.

Sandra called a mini-cab and they were waiting for their ride to appear when suddenly Sandra’s face went white.

“S-sandra! What’s…” Harley started to ask.

Sandra let out a shriek - “Noooo!” which rose to octaves that only dogs, and, apparently now, Harley, could hear. Her body collapsed in on itself in multiple dimensions, which Harley was disturbed to find that she could also perceive and there was a strange tear in reality which Harley was sure no normal human could perceive and not go insane. There was a noise like a heavenly choir if the choir was made of insanely scared teen girls moaning in fear and dread in perfect harmony which was abruptly cut off as what remained of Sandra’s body was sucked through the tear like a table-tennis ball into a vacuum cleaner. The tear slammed shut with such force that it shook the house like a small earthquake.

Harley felt like a piece of her soul had been ripped away, abruptly. She could feel fear and anguish from Sandra, but it was like there was a wall or a barrier between them. She could feel the direction it was coming from, it felt like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

It was not the only itch. Harley’s libido which had been held at manageable levels while Sandra was around suddenly flared into life again. Harley whimpered as her body shook with the sudden need to take part in unfeasible acts of lust.

Just then, the mini-cab pulled up in the drive and honked it’s horn. Harley walked out of the house in a daze to find a pretty woman sitting in the driver seat. Harley thanked her lucky stars, because she wasn’t sure what she would have done if the driver had been…
Her internal dialogue stuttered over the word ‘male’ and fragmented into vividly imagined scenes from an orgy as her knees buckled.

Harley flung herself into the backseat of the cab and said “Drive”.

She didn’t have a plan, she was hanging onto the tattered shards of her sanity, but she could feel Sandra like a compass felt the north pole and she would follow that feeling and free her as if her life depended on it. Which it probably did.

Harvey and the pretty girl - part 5

Harley sets off to rescue Sandra...

Harley could feel that Sandra was somewhere in the city, so she directed the cab driver to head in that direction. The cabbie looked a bit worried and Harley figured out that being given vague ‘that way’ directions from someone dressed like an anime wet dream with a crazed look in their eyes would disconcert most people. She took her phone from her purse and faked using it as a sat-nav as she told the driver which direction to go.
Moving towards Sandra with a purpose seemed to quiet her libido somewhat and Harley was able to stop squirming on the back seat. She fiddled with her phone some more and managed to get a maps application to come up so that she could call out street names that headed in the direction she could sense.

Pretty soon she figured out that they were heading towards the college, but the feelings from Sandra came from beyond the college campus. Eventually, they circled round a block of buildings and Harley was sure that Sandra was inside a large building set back from the road.

Harley directed the driver to pull over on the street opposite. She rummaged in her purse and was delighted to find that Sandra had had the forethought to leave cash and a credit card for her. She paid the cabbie and watched as she drove off into the night.

As she became unsure of what her next steps would be her libido pounced like a mythical beast. Harley’s legs quivered and she whimpered as she tried to get her hand into the tight knickers under her short skirt. She looked up and down the street and was relieved to find that there was no one watching her, until the thought of someone watching her turned into an erotic fantasy that left her craving an audience…

Fighting to master her lustful thoughts she turned her attention to how she was going to get into the house.

She wasn’t exactly dressed for espionage, so a bold approach seemed to be her only option.

She walked over to the front door and rang the doorbell.

Nothing happened.

She started looking around for a letterbox or a key under the doormat or any other way to get in. She was bent over looking for rocks in the flowerbed with her ass to the door when it suddenly opened. Standing there was a spotty youth in an ill-fitting robe like a monk's habit.

Harley was mildly embarrassed at the fact that she had just flashed her knickers at this boy, but she was not as flustered as he was.

“Y-yes?” he stammered “W-what do you want?”

He looked a little panicked, like he wasn’t used to talking to pretty, scantily dressed girls, and he might bolt at any moment. Harley tried her best to calm and reassure him with a smile.
“Is this where the party is?” she asked “I can see you’re already dressed up. What have you come as?”

“P-party?” the boy asked, sounding confused.

“Halloween party?” Harley said, as she stepped closer to him. Her breasts seemed to mesmerise the boy so she leant forward slightly to give him a better look and dropped her gaze demurely.

“Halloween?” the boy said, sounding even more confused. Harley could see from the bulge in the front of his robe that he was probably having some issues with blood supply to the brain about now. The thought of her effect on him made her tummy do a little flip of excitement.

Before she could continue her conversation, her link to Sandra pulsed with a strange emotion, a mix of fear, pain and something darker. The unexpected distraction triggered Harley’s libido and before she could consciously think she threw herself at the boy and started kissing him.
Startled, he fell back into the doorway and his arms came up and around her. As his hands touched her skin Harley felt the male energy start to warm her. She wasn’t sure how she did it, but as the energy flowed into her she tried to push some of her need into the boy, she wanted him to lust after her the way she needed him right now.

All nervousness and hesitation vanished as he started pulling the robe over his head. Harley was amused to see that he had shorts and a T-shirt under the robe and grateful to find that the guy obviously worked out. The robe had been disguising a body that didn’t match the spotty nerd face.

The boy was clearly frustrated by Harley’s outfit, it wasn’t clear how to unfasten it and get to Harley’s luscious body. Harley had no such problems and soon had the boy’s shorts down round his knees. Harley knew that she was unable to easily remove significant parts of her outfit without the magic box it came in, so she settled for pulling her knickers to one side and presenting her ass to the boy.

Conscious thought left both of them then and all that could be heard were gasps and groans as they rutted like animals in the open doorway looking out onto the street.

Harley felt herself sucking energy from the boy, and as it began to be converted to demon energy and then into female energy she felt the familiar buzz of well being as her body repaired and renewed itself. She could feel herself become more feminine and more beautiful as he pounded away. By the time he had come twice, he was slowing down and becoming more erratic in his movements. Harley wanted more, she was floating in a sex-induced high and she tried to suck more energy from the boy but there was a resistance that she couldn’t prevail against, like trying to suck a watermelon through a hosepipe.

Harley turned the boy on his back and rode him cowgirl style as he started to falter. She felt really good now, but she noticed that her reserves of female energy were not siphoning off to Sandra, as they had before and the flow from demon energy to female energy seemed to be slowing as if some reservoir of female energy was full and overflowing back into demon energy. It was hard to grasp what was happening, Harley just had a feeling like she was reaching some kind of equilibrium.

The boy was getting weaker now and Harley was finding the trickle of male energy coming from him was slowing, although he clearly had reserves of energy left that she couldn’t pull from him.

She had a thought; what if she could push some of the excess female energy into the boy to push the rest of the male energy into her?

As she was trying to find the right metaphysical muscles to twitch to accomplish this, three things happened; another boy appeared from some stairs at the other end of the hallway, he shouted something and pulled a gun out and shot her, just as she started to push the female energy into the first boy.

In fear and pain her psyche responded in pure reflex by dumping all her excess female energy into the first boy and pulling all of his male energy into her. Her demon energy sizzled as the massive jolt of energy hit her and the lights in the hallway flickered.

Harley was awash with Female and Demon energy, she screamed in pain, ecstasy and wonder her senses came alive and she realised she could see aspects of creation that she had never dreamed of. Power crackled and sizzled within her, sparks flew from her fingertips and toes. The bullet that was lodged near her spine squirmed from her body and tinkled on the floor as her flesh knit itself back together. Harley rose to a standing position, she didn’t bother actually standing she just floated off the mewling, newly made girl lying beneath her.

“What a rush!” Harley murmured to herself, her voice husky and seductive and filled with power. Harley held her hand out to the new girl and helped her to her feet. The girl's clothes hung from her in tatters from the force of the transformation and she looked terrified. Harley smiled at her reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, you’re going to love what happens next!” Harley told her.

Harley held her head in her hands and kissed her. Harley willed the demon energy to transform the girl, as she had been transformed herself, but with the energy the new girl devoured being transferred to Harley instead of Sandra. As they broke the kiss Harley used the remaining energy to clothe the new strawberry blonde in white lace undergarments.

“Annie” Harley named her, as she stepped back and they turned to the remaining boy who was staring at them in wonder. “Enjoy” she said as she indicated the boy.

Annie’s eyes went wide as she saw lust come over the boy’s face. Harley used her new found power to push them together like opposite poles of a magnet. She was not sure how much effect it had or whether she might have overdone it slightly.

Annie seemed a little unsure at the start, she had the equipment but she hadn’t read the owner’s manual, if you know what I mean?

The boy was beyond rationality at this point, he growled as he grabbed her, his hips twitching as he tried to concentrate enough to get his robe and pants off. Annie’s knickers scarcely covered her modesty, if she’d had any, so they were soon pulled to one side and they went at it with a passion that left Harley gasping with awe and excitement. Harley could feel every inch as if Annie’s body was her own, as Annie began to draw energy from the boy her skin smoothed, her waist narrowed, her hair grew and she began to look as if she had been photoshopped. Harley couldn’t tear her gaze away from Annie's body, she was femininity personified. Her hair deepened in colour until it was fiery red as her body shook with it’s first female orgasm.

Harley helped Annie get the boy hard again after he came the first time. Annie's enthusiasm was growing with each passing moment. They lay him on his back and Annie ground her crotch against his face as Harley lowered herself onto him. Harley wasn’t sure what she was doing, she was operating on instinct now as she tried to recreate the happy accident that had created Annie.

Harley could feel energy coming from Annie at the same time she was getting energy directly from the boy. Harley reached out and kissed Annie as they both rode the nameless guy. Harley drew energy from Annie as she pushed female energy into the boy. Annie’s eyes fluttered in bliss as she felt the energy wash through her. Harley could feel that he was nearly spent and there was that lump of masculine energy that couldn’t be pulled from him.

So Harley pushed, she pushed female energy into him and sucked male energy from him and energy from Annie at the same time, Harley heaved, metaphysically speaking, with all her might and all resistance collapsed as the boy screamed and Eldritch energy sparkled and cascaded over the three of them.

When the world stopped spinning and she could string her thoughts back together again, Harley laughed in delight. Annie was transformed into a stunning Redhead and the boy was a slightly geeky looking gamer girl with Brown hair. Harley felt like a goddess, brimming with power. With a wave of her hand she dressed the new girl in black lingerie.

“I think you shall be ‘Bella’” Harley told her. Bella looked bemused and uncertain. Harley turned to Annie who looked a lot more sure of how she felt.

“Annie, my dear, how many more boys are there in the house?” I asked her.

Annie trembled with anticipation at the word ‘boys’.

“There are twenty-two in all, eleven are in the basement with Jack, torturing the demon.” Annie said. Her voice was that of a southern lady, low and smooth and oozing sexuality.

“H-how are we going to deal with that many men?” Bella asked.

“Gang-bang time?” asked Annie, clearly relishing the challenge.

Bella looked mortified.

Harley’s link to Sandra chose that moment to pulse again with a complex emotion that she wasn’t able to understand. But it felt like Sandra was in trouble and it triggered another flare-up of Harley’s libido, just as Annie mentioned ‘gang-banging’ a large group of boys. Harley crammed her fingers in her knickers, but she fought to control herself.

“I don’t want to turn all the boys into girls,” Harley said. “You were an accident, Annie and you shot me Bella!”

“You want to save some boys to play with?” Annie asked “That’s cool, I suppose… I have to say, this…” she ran her hands down her body and smiled at Harley, “Is a hell of an accident! I can’t recall ever having so much fun, or feeling… mmmmm, SO good!”

“I-I’m sorry I shot you,” Bella said, “I was just trying to scare you.”

“Scared? I was terrified. I hate guns” Harley said.

“Really? But you’re bullet-proof” Bella said.

“I didn’t know that, and I’m not really bullet-proof, I would have died if I hadn’t been drawing energy from Annie when you shot me.” Harley said.

“Drawing energy? Are you like a vampire?” Bella asked.

“More like a Succubus, I think,” Annie said.

“Well, Sandra is technically a lust demon so, yes - I guess that’s accurate,” Harley said.

“Are we soul-less undead now?” Bella asked.

“I have no idea, I’ve no idea what a soul looks like. I know that you and Annie are tied to me for now, and I am tied to Sandra. But my connection to Sandra is blocked and I fear bad things are going to happen to me if I can’t free her and re-establish the link” Harley said.

“If we’re linked to you… and bad things happen to you, then nothing good happens to us, I guess?” Annie said.

Harley shrugged “I think I enhanced your smarts along with your body, you probably figured out more than me already,” she said.

“Let’s stop Jack!” said Bella. Her face showed her new-found determination. Bella searched for the gun she shot Harley with. She let out a gasp of fear and revulsion when she saw what remained of the gun lying on the floor. It looked like it was made from black leather or plastic and it had mated with a squid or some unfortunate deep-sea creature that hadn’t survived the transition to the surface, it was not symmetrical in any direction, it looked lop-sided and just plain wrong. But one of the most disconcerting things about it was the way that it was pulsing and wriggling like some voracious grub.

“Don’t touch it!” Harley shouted. Harley could see with her enhanced senses that it was bleeding malevolence into its surroundings.

“You don’t need to tell me!” said Bella, with fear and revulsion in her voice “you would have to be crazy to want to be in the same State as that thing!”

“What happened to it?” Annie asked.

“I think I cursed it, by instinct” Harley explained “I didn’t want to just destroy it, I wanted it to suffer and anyone who used it.”

Bella shivered as she thought through the implications of that.

“You could have done the same thing to me?” Bella asked in a small voice.

“It’s kind of what Sandra did to me when I tried to stab her.” Harley explained, “Being a succubus is kind of the cure for the curse.”

“Well, I like the cure… without the curse.” said Annie “When I was riding Ben, before you turned him into Bella I felt so….good!”

Annie managed to load the word ‘good’ with significantly more meaning than it would normally bear.

“So, how are we going to deal with the b-boys?” Bella asked. Her eyes went wide as her libido went up a notch as she mentioned boys. “Oh!” she said.

“Ha!” said Annie, “I guess men and boys are food now?”

Harley shook her head. “Not in the way you mean, I think. I’ve taken energy from a man before without consuming it all, and he left in the morning with a smile on his face!”

Harley smiled at the memory of the evening that she had spent with Josh.

Bella asked, “So, did you just do it to us to enslave us to do your bidding?”

“Bid me. Oh mistress!” Annie said with a smirk.

“I don’t think so,” Harley said “Why? Do you feel that you have to obey me?”

“No, but I think there’s no place for us here anymore,” Annie said “We were part of a pretty misogynistic crowd.”

Bella nodded, thoughtfully.

Annie continued “...and Jack wants your Sandra to do something that could fuck up the world. I’m guessing that would do bad things to you, and so to us, by extension?”

“I don’t know, I think so.” Harley said “I’ve only been a girl for a couple of days now, so this is pretty new to me, too. Sandra said our fates were linked, she was responsible for me and I was tied to her.”

“Well, we can’t shoot them. I’m not strong enough to physically stop them. I think being turned into a succubus will shake them up a bit and cause them to rethink some of their world views without fundamentally harming them.” Bella said.

“Whoa, when did ‘us’ become ‘Them’” Annie asked.

“Are you on their side?” Bella asked.

“Fuck it, no! I was always the outsider here, I thought Jack was a dangerous nut job, but I never thought he’d actually catch anything. We have to do something, and it has to be pretty extreme, because Jack’s just going to do it again if we don’t. Now he knows it works, and if he doesn’t, then one of the others in the ‘dastardly dozen’ will!” Annie said.

“Dastardly dozen? Isn’t that a comic book villain team?” Bella asked.

“Sounds about right, don’t you think?” Annie asked.

“Can we change them, the same way you do?” Bella asked Harley.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so” Harley said “It was kind of a freak accident, I don’t know if I’ll be able to show you how to do it later, when I figure it out myself.”
“Well, we can keep them busy, until you change them!” Annie said.

“I’ll try and do one” Bella said, as she blushed scarlet.

Just then another guy came round the end of the corridor.

“What the fuck!” he said aggressively and moved towards us, puffing his chest up.

“Why don’t you take this one?” Annie suggested to Bella, and pushed her forward.

“C-Carlos?” Bella said as she tottered forwards on her high heels.

“How do you know my name? Bitch!” Carlos said.

“Ben told me,” Bella said, “He said that he would go ahead and leave you to take care of us. He said even you would be able to take care of three girls!”

“Oh, I’m going to take care of you alright!” Carlos said, “Come here, girly!”

He reached out to grab Bella.

Annie said to Harley “Maybe we should distract him for a moment!” and pushed Harley against the wall as she started kissing and groping her.

Carlos stared, stunned at the show in front of him. Bella took that opportunity to drop to her knees and reach under his robe to pull down his shorts and free his manhood.

Carlos looked down with a knowing smile, “Oh yes, I know what you women want!”

He pulled off his robe to show a well-muscled body. Bella pushed him against the wall and went to work on him with her mouth. Within seconds, Carlos was a drooling idiot, Bella was becoming more frenzied as the energy began to flow into her and Harley was getting very hot and bothered as Annie slid to her knees and began her own oral ministrations. Harley was getting bombarded with Bella’s feelings as well as her own. It was only when Bella had practically drained Carlos of his readily available male energy that Harley regained enough self-control to come over and see how Bella was getting on.

Bella was loaded with female energy which had moulded her into an idealized form of her gamer-girl self. She was straining with all her might to pull the last bits of energy from Carlos, but she was having the same problem that Harley had been having when she transformed Annie.

Harley kissed Bella hard on a nipple as she touched one finger to Carlos’ body and pushed female energy into him to pop the male energy out. The results were explosive, energy and cum coated Bella’s insides and she screamed with Harley and Carlos as the energy consumed and rebuilt them. Carlos’ screams raised in pitch rapidly as her body shrank to become a petite Asian woman with lustrous black hair and red lingerie. Bella just glowed with physical perfection, she looked like a fantasy girl next door with straight brown hair and hazel eyes and subtle makeup, and curves in all the right places.

“Oh my god! What have you done to me?!” the newly made girl wailed. Harley explained again, but she noticed the newly made ‘Charlotte’ wasn’t paying attention as much as she expected. Charlotte’s hand was squirming in her knickers.

Annie asked Harley “Did you supercharge her libido too much?”

“I don’t even know how to do that,” Harley said, “I thought it just turned up what you already had. Was Carlos a bit sex-obsessed to begin with?”

“Oh!” Bella said as she looked to Annie.

“Oh! Right.” Annie said, “Carlos always used to brag that he was a sex-addict and that’s why he acted the way he did.”

“Brag?” Harley asked.

“Yeah, we know - he was pretty fucked up, and among this crowd, that’s saying a lot!” Annie said.

“Charlotte, are more of the boys coming?” Bella asked.

“B-boys?” Charlotte asked, her voice shaky from how hard she was exploring her new body parts. Sudden realisation crossed Charlotte’s face and she turned and walked towards the back of the building. Well, technically tottered on high heels might be a more accurate description. The three other girls looked at each other with shocked realisation…

“Oh shit!” they said in unison and followed after Charlotte. They caught up with her just as she passed the threshold of the door at the end of the hallway.

Charlotte said “Hello boys! Did you miss me?”

In the room there were six guys watching a 50” television, sat on three sofas.. Six heads swivelled to see who was there, six pairs of eyes went wide

Charlotte began to stalk towards the largest of the boys. Her predatory intentions were clear from her face and her gait, but it wasn’t clear what threat a tiny Asian girl in lingerie would be to a 6’4” jock.
He stood to confront her. The sexual tension in the room rose as it became clear he was rapidly developing a sizable bulge in the front of his robe.

Harley whimpered as the edges of Charlotte’s need hit her along with the musky scent of the six guys and four horny women.

When Charlotte got within 3 feet of the jock she launched herself at him, wrapping her legs and arms around him and kissing him hard on the mouth and neck. Shocked, the jock stumbled backwards and fell to the floor. Charlotte lifted his robe to show that, unlike the other guys, he wasn’t wearing anything else under his robe. She started to grind against him.

The two guys nearest them came over to help their friend. They got to either side of Charlotte and reached down to pull her off the jock, just as Charlotte figured out how to slip the prone jocks manhood into her. She pushed down with a satisfied groan and the energy began to flow into her. The flow of energy tugged at the other two guys as well and soon Charlotte had her own orgy going.

All three guys were non-verbal now hunting for orifices to use with Charlotte’s active participation.

Harley fell to the floor, twitching, overwhelmed with the energy flow from Charlotte and the physical sensations.

The three remaining guys took that as their cue to strip off and join in the fun. Annie stepped forward to the first guy with a smile on her face and drew him down to lie beside Harley. Bella saw what Annie did and tried to lead the other two guys around Harley to lie on the opposite side. One guy went with her, but the other decided to turn his attention to Harley.

Harley was struggling to deal with the overwhelming sensations as he entered her. She was having to deal with input from 3 other girls now, at the same time as experiencing her own activities. The flow of energy itself was overwhelming, without the accompanying, very distracting, physical sensations. As Harley began to accommodate the sensations she cautiously tried to pull a little energy through the girls, starting with Charlotte, rather than accepting the default trickle of energy. Charlotte groaned and redoubled her exertions.

The new energy levels expanded Harley’s consciousness further and she could see and feel the links to the other girls, and through them, their links to the six guys. Charlotte was like a supernova, dangerously close to exploding, Bella was like a sun and Annie was like a hotter, bluer sun.

Harley tried to drain the energy from the guy on top of her, to feel that familiar blocked pipe feeling that she knew how to clear. For some reason she felt full, the suction she had before wasn’t working as potently as before. She tried pushing her excess female energy into him, and that helped, but it didn’t clear the blockage. Harley gasped as the guy developed breasts and a vagina as he continued to pound his impressive erection into her. Harley wriggled her way on top and went to a 69 position as she continued to push energy into the she-male. Harley ground her pussy against their willing mouth and went to work with her mouth and fingers respectively on the penis and vagina presented to her. Their climax, when it came was a cascade of ecstasy; the she-male’s penis erupted with cum and energy as it vanished and the resulting energy was consumed by Harley, the sudden influx of additional energy caused Harley to come explosively, excess energy coursing through her and into the newly female body of her partner, which caused the erstwhile she-male to orgasm convulsively again and again as the she-male became emphatically female exclusively.

Their mutual screams triggered Charlotte’s orgasm, which triggered, in turn, each of the three guys she was writhing on the floor with.

Charlotte squealed like a stuck pig and rode her orgasms out, bouncing up and down on the hapless jock beneath her, ignoring his cries of pain and pleasure, she came again and again.

The firehose of energy that she sent to Harley burned and Harley pushed the demon energy away from herself into the lower dimensions she was now aware of out of sheer desperation. Having found somewhere to dump the excess energy she had she pushed as much of the demon energy away as she could. The relief she felt as the sense of fullness lessened allowed her to let out a sigh of relief. The sense of relief turned to panic as the sense of well-being pushed her libido into overdrive. The overwhelming urge to copulate was like a physical attack, driving the breath from Harley’s lungs like she had been punched in the gut. As conscious thought took a back seat, Harley instinctively acted to regain control of her body. She pushed the excess lust onto the lower dimensions, as if it was another form of energy.

Harley found her mind was clearer than it had been since Sandra vanished.

Five of the six guys had not yet been transformed, and the other girls were finding it difficult to suck more energy. Harley wasn’t sure if that meant the guys would cease being distracted.

In desperation, Harley reached out to Bella’s guy and pushed again. Energy rushed from him into Bella and poured into Harley. A college co-ed librarian wearing glasses and the princess Leia slave-girl outfit appeared in his place. Bella collapsed bonelessly on top of her with a beatific smile all over her face.

Harley grabbed all the energy released from the transformation and forced it into the guy with Annie. The guy turned into a blonde heart-breaker in a tiny bikini as energy exploded back into Harley through Annie, twice as strong as before. Annie’s back arched as if she was being electrocuted with the intensity of the sensations flowing through her, but the excess energy went to Harley after the energy she was receiving healed the damage it had done and repaired and renewed all aspects of her body.

Harley couldn’t physically reach the last three guys from where she lay, she didn’t have the presence of mind to get up or crawl to the 4 people frenziedly copulating in every possible configuration in front of her. She looked with her enhanced senses. She could sense something like a map of the nervous system or an energy overlay over each of the four. She picked out the 3 guys, felt for the bright spot glowing where she figured the base of their spines would be and poured all the female energy she could summon into the energy templates she could sense while simultaneously pulling energy from Charlotte. There was a moment of perfect stillness, like time itself was holding its breath and Harley thought to herself ‘Oh oh!’

That moment was followed by an explosion of blinding energy as bodily fluids (cum, not anything grosser) splattered every surface and the remnants of clothing of all four participants practically vaporised.

When everyone had blinked away the blindspots; there were two twin girls with thick butts and tiny waists holding hands and looking at each other and there was a short girl with enormous eyes, blue hair, tattoos and piercings still frantically trying to have sex with Charlotte, who was also enthusiastically still going.

Harley, Annie and Bella took stock of the situation; the statuesque ex-she-male brunette was named ‘Diana’, the cute shy librarian type who had been with Bella became ‘Emma’ the haughty blonde who had been with Annie became ‘Farah’. As they decided the name of each girl, Harley pulled on the pool of energy she had pushed out earlier and manifested an outfit for them. Diana was dressed as an amazonian dominatrix, Emma like a character from the St Trinian’s films and Farah was dressed like a sexy secretary fetish; stockings, suspenders, high heels, a too-short pinstripe skirt and a transparent lace blouse under a pinstripe jacket with one button straining to contain her breasts.

“Can you bring the new girls up to speed with the situation?” Harley asked Annie “I need to see to the others and try and stop Charlotte from hurting herself”.

“She doesn’t seem to be in any pain!” Bella quipped.

There was no answer to that, both Charlotte and the other girl were engrossed in each other. Harley couldn’t understand why, as neither was draining any energy from the other so they shouldn’t be feeling that hunger driving them. Maybe the new girl was like Charlotte, with a libido beyond the normal.

The twins were watching the pair next to them with shock, awe and a little admiration. Harley went over and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Harley. You’re clearly going to need new names, so I’ll call you ‘Grace’ and you ‘Isobella’, OK? ‘H’ is already taken.” she said.

The twins nodded.

“So…” Harley went on “How can we tell you apart?”

Grace asked, “I look like her?”

“You are identical,” Harley told them simply. Grace’s eyes went wide at that thought.

“Are we related now?” Isobella asked.

“Er, not really? I guess. Were you related before?” Harley said.

“No. Why are we identical?” Grace asked.

“Short answer, I don’t know. This whole thing of turning you into girls kind of started as an accident.” Harley said.

“Started...what is it now?” asked Isobella, suspiciously.

“Honestly? A way to distract you from harming us without us having to shoot or incapacitate you.” Harley said “Bella had a gun, he actually shot me. I would have died if I hadn’t changed Annie then.”

“But we were just watching the game…” said Grace, as if she was remembering another life, instead of five minutes earlier.

“Well, you kind of attacked me and Sandra first” Harley explained.

“Sandra?” Isobella asked.

“The woman Jack has downstairs?” Harley asked.

“Oh. A demon?” Grace asked.

“Technically, I guess. You guys are… well, kind of succubi now, like me” Harley said.

“We feed on men? You turned us into your nympho army of demons without asking us!” Grace asked, getting a little shrill.

“To be fair, you started messing with summoning a demon… How did you think that would end?” Harley asked.

Isobella and Grace looked at each other.

“Not like this!” said Isobella.

“But, you do kind of have a point” Grace admitted.

“Do we have to do what you say now?” asked Isobella.

“I don’t think you have to.” Harley said “But… you are linked to me, and I am linked to Sandra. If I can’t free Sandra, I think something bad will happen to me, and if something happens to me, I honestly don’t know what will happen to you all.”

“Linked?” asked Grace.

“Er… yes, when you…” Harley said, blushing as she spoke “have sex, you drain masculine energy from him and turn it to feminine energy, which will heal you and make you stronger. But you can only take so much and the excess will go to me.”

“Stronger?” Grace asked, “How much stronger?”

“Why does the energy go to you? How come you can handle more energy than us?” Isobella asked.

“OK… I don’t know how much stronger, but be careful with your men, you might break them” Harley said “and… when I made you I copied the way I was made by Sandra, I send my excess energy to her. I can’t get to her, something Jack did is blocking the link. Frankly, I don’t know how much longer I can last without dumping my excess to her. Strange things are starting to happen already…”

“Like what?” Grace asked.

“Er… I cursed a gun…” Harley said.

“That’s nothing, I cuss all the time,” Isobella said, smirking.

“Yeah, but it kind of turned it into something… unholy,” Harley said.

The twins looked at each other, not getting it. Harley called out to Bella;

“Hey Bella!” she said “Would you pick up your old gun for a million dollars?”

Bella paled and replied “How could you even joke about that? I don’t like being reminded that I’m in the same building as that thing!”

The twins’ eyes went wide.

“Yeah, seeing the mess I made of that thing is partly what convinced Bella and Annie it was better to be on my good side,” Harley said.

“Anything else?” Grace asked.
“Well, what outfit would you like?” Harley asked.

Isobella’s eyes went wide…

“We’re naked females, standing around in front of a bunch of lesbians and strangers,” she said.

“Lesbians?” Harley interrupted.

The twins looked to Charlotte and the punky girl wrestling each other and moaning a foot from where they were standing.

“Oh!.. “ Harley said “Right… about that. I’m pretty sure that they are bisexual or… how did Sandra explain it? Omni. We’re omnisexual beings. Don’t you have any urges? Right now?”

“Not like that!” Grace said hotly, then she continued more thoughtfully “What is the distinction?...Omni? We’re attracted to everyone?”

“Well, Sandra told me everything technically,” Harley said “Er.. the urge grows, I think. Except Charlotte has it bad all the time. I guess…’Kelly’ has it, too?”

“Kelly?” Isobella asked.

“Outfit?” Grace asked.

“Kelly, because I’m saving ‘Jillian’ for Jack. Yes, what outfit would you like me to get you?” Harley said.

“Oh, that was the point I was trying to make… Why aren’t we ashamed of our bodies? We are naked, and I feel no shame. I’m just getting turned on by giving you all a good look at me. You asked what outfit? Well, given we’re succubi, clothing seems like it would just get in the way!” Isobella said.

“I must admit, it’s weird, but I’m feeling perfectly comfortable in my skin, too” said Grace.

“I think that’s part of the magic. We should be freaking out with dysmorphia and everything, but… I don’t know about you, but I kind of like the idea of people looking at my body!” Harley said, “Maybe a little too much”.

“Let ‘em look!” Grace agreed.

“Still, how about?..” Harley mused. She pulled energy from her reservoir and the air shimmered around the twins.

When the air cleared they had matching outfits, red high-heeled thigh high latex boots, clip-on plastic red horns, small plastic bat wings held on with a ribbon tied across their cleavages and a red and black plastic trident and plastic joke pointy teeth.

Grace laughed. “You dressed us as succubi!” she said.

“With no knickers!” Isobella said, with a smirk, her face fell “Shouldn’t we have tails?”

Harley thought for a moment, then an evil grin split her features. The air shimmered again and both the twins jerked upright as tails appeared.

“Eep!” they both said.

“Buttplugs” Harley explained, sheepishly.

Then she turned to Charlotte and Kelly. They really did have an impressive amount of enthusiasm.

Harley tried to figure out a way to get them to stop without physically pulling them off each other. She placed a hand on each of them and tried to pull some of the lust out of them. Her first attempt nearly had her rolling on the ground with the pair of them as the lust she took threatened to overwhelm her senses, she hurriedly pushed it into the lower dimensions, struggling to retain her control. Her second attempt was more successful, it took a level of coordination similar to patting your head and rubbing your tummy to draw the lust out and push it to her growing store in the lower dimensions without it turning her into a sex-puppet.

“Aww,” said Charlotte “I was nearly there!”

“I think you’ve been there for a long time,” said Harley. “Why don’t you let Kelly catch her breath?”

Kelly got to her feet, with Charlotte’s help and stood smirking in front of Harley.

“Ok, I heard all that you said to these girls. Goth me up and let’s go get your ‘Sandra’. If the wages of sin are death then being turned into a hotty and getting sex like that seems like a pretty good deal! I always suspected Jack would drag us down with him, let’s go get him! Just… can you make sure I feel… sexy...again before I have to bang my first guy?”

“Put your hands behind your back, please?” Harley said to Kelly. Kelly complied and black leather constraints appeared. Kelly’s eyes went wide.

Harley nodded and gestured, Kelly was dressed in a black latex corset and high black boots with a black collar with a chain that led to Charlotte’s hand.

“Look after her,” Harley told Charlotte. She gestured again and a black ball gag appeared in Kelly’s mouth. Kelly looked shocked for a moment until Harley gave her back her lust, with just a little bit of interest. The need for the ball gag became apparent as Kelly tried to scream and slipped to the floor. Charlotte and the twins held her up as her knees buckled. After a few moments, Kelly could stand again, although her eyes looked a little frenzied and she was drooling around the gag.

“Whew!” said Charlotte “Be careful what you wish for!”

“Do you want your lust back, too?” asked Harley seriously.

Charlotte thought for a second.

“Maybe?” she said “If you have time when we get down there? Let me keep my wits together for both of us until then,” she continued, indicating Kelly.

Kelly gave her a thankful look, and then tried to hump her leg like a dog in heat.

The group started making their way to the basement stairs

Annie asked Harley, “What about the other guys upstairs? Don’t you want to recruit them to our army?”

“You mean turn them into sex-crazed nymphos, like me?” Harley asked, with just a touch of bitterness.

“I guess… it would make it easier to overwhelm them if there were more of us?” Annie said.

“To be honest, I never intended to turn you into this…” Harley gestured at Annie.

“I know, you said it was an accident…” Annie said.

“I feel guilty… I didn’t ask for this to be done to me, and now it seems like I can’t think of any other way to defend myself than to do the same thing to others… That’s not right!” Harley said.

“Well…” Annie said, “You pointed out that we took up with a demon summoning asshole, so this is pretty much the least we deserve!”

“But… You’re not you anymore! That’s almost like murder, or rape!” Harley said.

“It doesn’t feel like rape, to be honest, it feels very freeing,” Annie said.

“I’ve literally tied you to me with unbreakable bonds!” Harley said with frustration.

“Oh, Honey… we all try to tie people to us, one way or another. Money, coercion, sex. You’ve been very upfront about it and paid us in health and beauty and who knows what other benefits!” Annie said.

Harley said “I give up! The magic must be warping your mind to make you more pliable…”

“Oh, I can be very flexible, if you want pliable!” Annie said with a smirk. “You give yourself too little credit. I’ve seen the kind of power you wield, you could have destroyed anyone of us, you could have made us all drooling sex slaves. You don’t have full control of it either, and that’s partly down to your own creator, I guess? But you are learning, and you are trying to help us come to terms with this. Oh, and for the record, just walking around like this is a blast, I’m having so much fun! I’ve never enjoyed sex like this!”

Annie’s smile carried a lot of heat and could have lit a room, or stopped a young man’s heart.

-0-0-

They made it to a steel door at the bottom of the stairs without further incident.

“Right,” Harley said, as the girls gathered around her, “Are you ready?”

Charlotte took the restraints from Kelly’s arms and the ball-gag from her mouth. Kelly seemed to be slightly subdued, she just hugged Charlotte.

Charlotte’s nipples visibly hardened as she tried to get herself in the right frame of mind to ravish multiple young men, while Kelly groped her. Charlotte smiled an indulgent smile at Kelly, then turned to Harley and said “We’ll take point, the rest of you back us up?”

“I’ll take Jack” Harley said “If it’s not obvious who he is, point him out to me. I guess he’s the most dangerous and the rest will be easy pickings once he is taken care of.”

She took a last look around them all and nodded to Charlotte, whose hand was on the door handle.

“Let’s do this!”

Harvey and the pretty girl - part 6

and now, the thrilling conclusion.... will Harley rescue Sandra and save the world? Will Sandra take terrible revenge? read on...

Harvey and the pretty girl - Part 6

Charlotte opened the door and walked in as if she owned the place. She led Kelly by the hand. Kelly was a good deal taller than Charlotte in her high fetish boots and her heels made an enticing tap-tap-tap sound as she followed the little asian girl.

The room was larger than Harley had expected, clearly extending beyond the boundaries of the building above. The walls at the end of the room they had entered were rough bricks and mortar, but they became hewn rock further into the space. There was shelving and chairs near the entrance, the far end led to a kind of raised stage or dais.

Eleven hooded figures were focussed on the stage, they were chanting or mumbling, or maybe praying. They stood in a rough semi-circle.

On the stage, a twelfth figure held a book and was focussed on something like a piece of raw chaos from a nightmare.

There was a clearly delineated circle, on the stage. Marked out with characters from no alphabet that Harley recognised. The characters shifted form and colour, and they glowed, mostly green but with flickers of red and other colours. Inside the circle, as if in a glass jar, something moved.

It was hard to describe, and harder to look at. At first, Harley was reminded of a boiling black storm cloud with lightning, but within the dark roiling mass there were tentacles, fins, human body parts, blood, slime and sparks of energy and all manner of other things.

The parts were disturbing when they became recognisable; a hand or face being formed and ripped apart again by the forces in the circle.

Harley could see that the chaos extended into dimensions that human minds could not perceive. It threatened the sanity of anyone who studied it, or weaker minds who caught a glimpse of it.

“Focus on the boys, don’t look at the stage!” Harley hissed to the girls as they went into the room.

Harley could feel Sandra, in that chaos, through the link they shared. The link was muted, but at this range, the fury and frustration were immensely distracting.

Charlotte and Kelly reached the nearest boy, who had been so focused on the stage that he hadn’t noticed them. Charlotte tapped him on the shoulder and, as he turned to see who was there, Kelly grabbed his head and kissed him so hard that her piercings drew blood. Kelly licked the crimson stain from her lips and reached up and ripped the front of the robe in two. The startled boy’s knees buckled and Kelly wrapped herself around him and rode him to the ground as she writhed against him, Charlotte quickly removed the boy’s shorts and helped the frenzied Goth slake her craving. The ferocity with which Kelly fucked the poor boy made Harley wince, but she could feel the energy already start to flow and knew that Kelly would be almost unstoppable until she could not drain any more energy.

One of the other boys sensed something was happening and turned to see what was going on. He looked utterly confused to see a Goth girl riding his semi-naked friend and a petite asian girl gesturing to him.

Charlotte crossed quickly to him and quietly said, with a grin on her face “Me love you long time? Come with me?” she held out her hand and the bemused boy took it. As her skin met his, his face went slack and he moved to follow her as she led him back to Kelly. He was struggling to remove his robe with one hand as he followed her.

Charlotte turned to him and rose on her tiptoes to kiss him as they reached Kelly. She quickly stripped him, with his clumsy help and guided his tumescent member to Kelly’s willing mouth.

By this time, the other girls had come level with them. Charlotte spotted her next target and gestured to Emma, The two of them approached the boy and stood behind him. Charlotte grabbed Emma and began making out with her. Emma's startled muffled cry alerted the boy and he turned to see two small beauties, in fetish wear, snogging each other. Before he could raise the alarm, Charlotte reached out a hand and he took it, lust rising on his face and in his loins as Charlotte helped Emma take care of him.

Annie and Bella helped organise the other girls and soon there was a full-blown orgy underway. It took a handful of seconds until most of the boys were fucking some hottie or standing slack-jawed with their penis in their hand watching the show.

Harley took advantage of the distraction to slip up to Jack on the stage, trying to look as much like a bimbo as she could and not in any way like a threat. Jack looked up from his book and shouted “WHAT!! Get them!”

He could have saved his breath. Each of the girls had at least one boy enthralled and the energy was rolling into Harley. She pulled more energy into herself from all the links she had and she felt the links each girl had to their victims.

Harley moved closer to Jack.

“Can I help you, sweetie?” she asked Jack “Carlos arranged for a little party… don’t you want to _play_ with me?”

Harley reached out for Jack, both physically and metaphysically. He seemed to be shielded, somehow, she couldn’t get to his energy, it was like he was wearing plate armour.

He might be immune to her ability to raise his lust by supernatural means, but he was still a boy. As he looked around the room, he was distracted by all the sex happening around them. Harley used her reserves of energy to weaken her outfit and it tore like tissue paper as he laid hands on her. When Jack found that he had a small cute nubile girl dressed in rags in his hands, he seemed to be at a loss for what to do next. Harley wrapped herself around him and made it clear what she wanted him to do as she kissed him. If she couldn’t drain his energy, she could at least distract him while the girls drained the other boys. She lay down on the stage and pulled him down to her so that he would not see what was happening in the rest of the room.

He entered her with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

Harley closed her eyes and smiled a dreamy smile to herself as she reached out with her new senses to feel what was happening in the rest of the room. She kept herself from probing the circle on the stage with them too closely as it reeked of danger.

She could feel that Kelly was struggling to drain any more energy from the two boys she was enthusiastically draining. She tried to concentrate on their energy patterns and got ready to push female energy into them as before. Jack was a distraction, but she managed to concentrate on the feelings she had when she created Grace and Isobella and she pushed female energy into her targets.

The boys transformed into girls and the release of energy smashed through Kelly and back into Harley.

Harley could not help moaning as the warm energy flooded her system, she hurriedly pushed it down into the lower dimensions so that Jack wouldn’t notice. He grinned, assuming that his actions had prompted the noise she made, and he redoubled his efforts.

Harley carefully repeated her actions for each of the other boys, hiding the released energy as best she could. All the while Jack did not stop his relentless pounding. When he came the first time, Harley found that a little energy leaked out of him into her. Maybe, she could wear him down over time? Especially with Kelly, and the other girls’ help?

Grace, Isobella and Annie left their victims with the other girls and moved closer to the stage so that they could help Harley.

Annie came close first, she slipped a hand around Jack's shoulder and leaned in to kiss him.

Harley wasn’t sure how Grace and Isobella were going to help, men were pretty focussed on their penis and their mouth, Jack was fucking Harley and kissing Annie already, and she was worried that the addition of the twins might be a distraction. When they lay down beside her and started sucking on her nipples she cried out. They were a distraction, but what a wonderful distraction they were. The additional display of the show that they were putting on for Jack kept him concentrating on Harley.

She tried to study his energy pattern, was there a crack in his armour? To Harley’s enhanced senses it looked as though he was coated in a mesh of interconnected lines of force. There was no obvious crack in his armour. Then, when Annie slipped her tongue into his mouth, Harley saw that the armour mesh did not cover the inside of Jack’s mouth. She reached up to pull Jack’s mouth down to hers, stuck her tongue as far down his throat as she could, tapped her reservoir of female energy and forced as much of it as she could through her tongue and down into Jack’s body.

Jack shook like he had grabbed a live wire, he quickly transformed into a she-male, as Diana had, but he didn’t seem to be too much worse for wear. The amount of energy Harley had funnelled into him must surely have had more of an effect than that?

While Jack was still reeling from the attack, inspiration struck Harley…

“Quick, throw him into the circle!” she cried.

The four girls picked up Jack and hurled him against the circle. They were a little uncoordinated and Jack was thrashing around. He landed across the edge of the circle, with his feet inside and his face outside.

There was utter silence throughout the room for a moment, you could have heard a pin drop. The roiling chaos that filled the circle contracted, Jack let out a shrill scream and then was pulled further into the circle.

As he was pulled in, something flowed out, along his legs and body, out of his screaming mouth and up his hands to coalesce just beyond the circle’s edge, where Jack’s fingertips scrabbled for purchase. It seemed as insubstantial as smoke, but where it flowed there were sickening sounds of breaking bones and flayed flesh, there was a wet ripping sound as it passed Jack’s lower torso.

Harley felt her connection to Sandra come back into sharp focus, where previously it had been muted, like there was a barrier separating them. At first she felt relief, the compulsion which had driven her to rescue Sandra lifted. Harley’s fears of becoming a slave to her sexual urges, or exploding because the energy she absorbed couldn’t be released into Sandra subsided. Then Harley realised that she had already found solutions for those problems, and her mad, head-long rush to rescue Sandra no longer seemed as urgent or important as it had before. Harley resented the feeling that she was leashed to Sandra again.

She was also horrified to feel the satisfaction Sandra felt as she inflicted hideous damage on Jack’s body as she dragged herself out of the circle and pushed Jack back in her place.

Sandra stepped from the coalescing chaos, looking none the worse. Jack was sucked into the circle which became filled with a new roiling chaos, but this one was red, scarlet as blood with bits of lung and bone swirling within it.
Sandra was naked, with a fierce grin of triumph as she looked at the results of their actions.

As Sandra stepped forward Harley felt her connection to Sandra burst into full life and all her excess energy she was carrying flowed into Sandra, who began to glow like an electric light bulb. With a wave of her hand and a shimmer of energy Sandra clothed herself. The light show quickly faded.

“Wow!” said Sandra “You _have_ been busy! However did you?...”

Sandra’s voice trailed off as she looked around the room.

“Oh shit.” she said “What on Earth have you done!”

“Nevermind!” Sandra went on “I’m sure it was self defence! Oh…” She dropped a throbbing severed penis in Harley’s hand. “Memento for you! He won’t be needing it where he’s going!”

“Where is he going?” Harley asked as she gingerly held the strangely warm thing.

“Well, he won’t be bored!” Sandra said.

Sandra picked up the book that Jack had dropped, scanned a few pages and said a few words. The cylinder drained as if it’s contents were being flushed and then the characters of the circle on the ground floated away from the ground and vanished one by one leaving a scorch marked area on the floor.

The room fell silent as they looked around to assess the situation.

“Wow!” Sandra shouted, “That’s what I call a Halloween Party!”

There was an embarrassed giggle that went round the room as the girls took stock.

Sandra grabbed Harley and hugged her close. She said softly in her ear, so only Harley could hear “Thank you, I could not have escaped without you. You didn’t save just me, but you may have saved the world! That guy was crazy with the things he wanted to do!”

Harley felt acutely aware of the fact that she was practically naked with bodily fluids on her skin beginning to get tacky. She wasn’t ashamed, infact, she felt… horny.

Harley realised that there was still a noise of slapping and she looked up to see Kelly desperately scissoring a bemused, newly transformed girl.

Harley crossed to Kelly, her heels sounding loud in the silence. She bent down to kiss Kelly and, with their touch, took back some of the lust that had been driving her mad and buried it for later.
Kelly stood and hugged her, sobbing her relief.

“Thank you,” Kelly whispered in Harley’s ear, “for not leaving me out of control, and for giving me the help when I was scared I wouldn’t be able to… you know, do it.”

“We can do ‘it’ when you want, now. Or you can choose not to do it. Let me know if your libido troubles you, I think I can help increase or decrease it.” Harley said.

“If you want to decrease it, then I think you should consider our clothing options!” Kelly said with a wry smile.

Kelly’s latex corset had survived better than Harley’s Halloween costume but they were both practically naked, as were the majority of the girls.

Harley summoned some more energy from her reserves and manifested a beautiful black lace gothic-style dress for Kelly, with matching platform boots.

Sandra’s eyes grew wide as she saw this and Harley could tell that there would be a long conversation about her new abilities, later.

Kelly smiled in relief. She looked down at Harley and said, a little uncertainly, like she couldn’t believe her eyes “Is that a willy in your hand, or are you just pleased to see me?”

Harley giggled.

“Ah, yes. This is a present that Sandra gave me!” Harley said.

“I hope she kept the receipt!” Kelly said.
Annie laughed.

“Are you sure you don’t want a willy?” Harley asked, “In fact…”

Harley turned to face all the girls, and she continued in a louder voice; “Who wants to go back to being a boy?”

“Are you kidding!” said Annie “I have never felt more alive, I’ve never felt more comfortable in my skin, I’ve never felt more me. I love being a woman!”

There was a small cheer from most of the girls. One or two of the eleven most recently transformed girls looked a little unsure.

“Girls,” Bella said, “we are in this together, we are sisters, and we will take care of each other, right Harley?”

“That’s right!” Harley said, “We stand together!”

Sandra said, “Well, that’s good… because I don’t have any way to change you into men, and I don’t think Harley does, either?”

“Well, no… but I never intended this to get out of hand like this. I would search for a way to restore anyone who was uncomfortable.” Harley said.

“It does you credit to be concerned about that, but frankly, the matrix you borrowed from me to guide the transformation, doesn’t really give much wiggle-room for ‘free choice’ or dysmorphia. You girls are going to love being female in ways that you cannot dream of now. Doing anything to change that will become unthinkable in a very short time. Frankly, given the forces that you were messing with… you were very, very lucky. Entire villages have been cursed for generations for less. The American government has been known to ‘nuke first and ask questions later’ in these circumstances.” Sandra said.

The girls who had been looking unsure before now looked pale.

Sandra went on; “Now… I am sure that there are showers upstairs, I, for one, could do with a hot shower, but I am willing to share. Some of you are looking a bit… sticky. Why don’t we just make do with towels for now? We might find that mother nature has provided for us in our hour of need. Let’s see what she has left in your closets?”

She gestured and a pile of fluffy bath towels flopped to the ground from thin air. The girls quickly grabbed a towel each, most of them wrapped a towel around themselves to cover their nakedness. One or two just flaunted their bodies, including the twins, Grace and Isobella. They held their towels over their arms and just wore a smile, and the remains of the succubus outfits Harley had made for them.

Sandra looked at them and nodded approvingly.

“Nice look, girls!” she said with an appreciative grin.

The twins preened at the attention.

“Shit!” Harley said, “What about the other boys upstairs?”

Annie went “Oh!”

“How many are left?” Harley asked.

Annie did a quick headcount.

“Four, I think.” She said, “There are twenty of the transformed girls here, plus you and Sandra. No, wait… Jack’s gone, so that makes three.”

“Ha, three boys living with twenty-two sex-crazed hotties… they will be the envy of all their friends for 5 minutes until they die with smiles on their faces that could not be surgically removed!” Charlotte said.

“That could be a problem…” Harley said “Dead bodies are even worse than disappeared people. Maybe I should take a few of the girls upstairs and see if we can’t, gently, wear down their resistance a little?”

“You’re not intending to change them?” Sandra asked.

Harley sighed. “I know it might be more expedient, but I don’t like making people’s personality and body change that way without good cause!”

“Even if you are making assholes into angels?” Annie asked, “Because, I guarantee they are no better than the rest of us, and they certainly don’t deserve special treatment because they were wanking in the bathroom when you came by!”

The rest of the girls were vocal in their agreement.

“I guess, if you can convince me that they want to be changed, then I can try and change them too.” Harley said, sounding very unsure.

“What will they do if you don’t change them?” Annie asked “They won’t have a moment’s peace if they stay here without changing!”

All the girls were heading towards the door now, Charlotte was trying to get the most recently changed girls to head to the front.

“They deserve to get a taste!” Charlotte chortled.

“Wait!” Harley said, “What about names!”

Annie said, “That’s right, girls. You can’t go around using your old names, now can you? You’ll feel better, knowing who you are.”

Charlotte got the eleven new girls lined up like a cross between a parade ground and an ‘American Pie: The sorority girls” movie.

The first girl was a pale blonde. Harley named her ‘Lily’ as she held her hand, she reached into her hidden reserve of energy and pushed a little more into the newly named Lily, she became the archetypal Swedish blonde.

Sandra’s eyebrow rose again, but she didn’t make a comment.

The next girl was a little stocky with short dark brown hair. Harley named her ‘Michaela’ and pushed energy into her. Michaela turned into a cute tomboy with tousled short hair.

‘Neve’ was next, she transformed into a redhead with a mass of curls and freckles.

‘Olivia’ was a slender black girl, until the extra energy gave her extra muscle tone and long thick black hair, she looked like a sports star or a superheroine. She unwrapped the towel and started flexing her muscles and checking her body out. The girls to either side of her stared in awe.

‘Penny’ was quite petite to begin with but the energy shrank her to below 5 feet tall and made her fine features take on an almost alien beauty. Her hair became black, like her irises and eyebrows, she smirked and her canines were strangely sharp. She looked Fae, not like a Tinkerbell fairy but like the incarnation of older magics. She giggled and her high pitched laugh sounded just a little crazed.

The next girl said “Nuh-uh, I see how this is going! The only girl’s name I can think of that starts with a ‘Q’ is ‘Queenie’ and that, for someone who was a guy 30 minutes ago is just… NO, nu-uh!”

“Ok” Harley said “How about… ‘Rachael’?”

Harley reached out and touched Rachael’s hand, the energy gave her an hourglass figure and raven curls like a pinup girl from the 50s. Rachael’s eyes went wide as her rapidly expanding bust caused the towel she had wrapped around herself to fall to the floor.

She went “Oopsie!” in a breathy voice, and her hands started wandering over her body, as if of their own volition. Rachael pulled her knees tight together as her knees buckled slightly.
“Ohhhh myyy…” she said in the same high pitched breathy voice.

The next girl looked a little nervous seeing Rachael’s transformation.

“Tina” Harley said, Tina stood up straighter, a little curvier and a little blonder, and looked a little relieved.

“Una” grew to a 5’11” supermodel-type, looking down her Aquiline nose at the other girls.

“Victoria” became a peaches and cream complexioned “English Rose”.

“Wendy” became a friendly-looking brunette with long hair and a big smile like Julia Roberts and a figure like Daisy Duke.

“Yasmin” Was already dusky-skinned, her eyes tilted more and her dark hair became glossier and wavy. She looked like a live action version of Princess Jasmine.

“Right” Charlotte said as she marshalled her ‘troops’ again. Rachael and Olivia moved to the front, Penny slid to the back and the girls headed upstairs.

-0-0-

Well, Sally and Tiffany lasted about 30 minutes before they begged to be turned into girls, now they are upstairs painting their nails with the others. Zoe, well… Zoe lasted 3 days and Harley wasn’t sure if he was enjoying himself before or if they like being tortured. Many of the girls seem to be completely different from the boys that they were before, but she didn’t know the boys before they changed.

Zoe seemed to be a masochist or submissive or something, and Harley didn’t know if that was influenced by them trying to resist the ‘encouragement’ that the other girls were giving him to accept the change. Pronouns were a problem when trying to figure this out.

Zoe had taken to wearing a gingham dress and a slave collar and often baked cookies for everyone in the kitchen. She would literally do anything any of the other girls suggested, which Harley had to put a stop to. Harley was disturbed by how turned on Zoe seemed to get from being humiliated and powerless.

Harley asked Sandra about why the girls were so different from who they were before and why they showed such startling differences between each other. Harley thought that they would all be essentially succubi feeding through her into Sandra, but Penny seemed to feed on Chaos, Annie devours knowledge and seemed to be getting smarter by the day. Sandra told Harley that they all seemed to be based on elements of different aspects of Harley.

“They are all human, mostly” Sandra assured Harley.

Harley was reassured, at first. But, over time she realised that the combination of her ability to perceive the lower dimensions and store energy in different forms there and her links to twenty girls who all used to be boys with an unhealthy obsession with obtaining power by torturing a summoned demon meant that she was in a remarkably unstable situation.

Each girl was, to be fair, a little unstable in her own unique way. Having the previously tortured demon living with them as well made the situation more unstable. Harley found it difficult to shake the feeling that she was living on the slopes of a metaphysical supervolcano.

A Christmas Party - part 1


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

Hi, I'm Bob Smith, and I want to tell you about an unexpected thing that happened at my works Christmas party this year.

I started my new job as a software developer in early November. It wasn't my first job, I had worked for the local council for a few years once I left college and they had sent me on various training courses, but it was my first job in the commercial sector and I found it hard meeting all the new people and trying to find my place in the company.

I didn't really want to go to the office Christmas party, but my Mum had convinced me that it was a necessary evil when I'd called her after I got the details in an email at work. The girls in HR had set it all up. It was going to take place at a local hotel that had conferencing facilities and did wedding receptions and the like at weekends. It seemed a bit swanky to me. We got several reminders via email telling us where and when it was, asking people to confirm their menu selection and the dress code. The dress code seemed to be aimed specifically at the men. It was clearly stated, for the avoidance of doubt that, although the party was not a formal black tie dinner, tuxedos would be appropriate, jeans, t-shirts and trainers definitely would not be. We would be representing the company in public and anyone not dressed appropriately would be asked to leave.

I asked my boss about it and she told me that, a few years ago, some of the younger male colleagues had turned up in jeans and leather jackets and the HR girls had been so infuriated that they had given them a hard time for the rest of the year. There was nothing specific done, but the atmosphere of simmering resentment to those guys kind of infected the whole company somehow and they had all left eventually.

Oh, and my boss? The development team leader? She's the only woman in the IT team. Her name is Cathy and she's the smartest person I've ever met, I think. I've been impressed by Cathy since I arrived at the company. I think I must have impressed her too, during the recruitment process. They interviewed dozens of candidates and I was the only one that they took on. Cathy has told me that it's very hard getting good junior developers in our area.

So, the big day finally arrived. Work was very quiet, a lot of the female staff left early to start getting ready and there was an air of expectation which was vaguely disturbing.
Once my day was finally finished I rushed home to get ready. I say “home”, but it didn't really feel like home yet. It was a house where I rented a room with 3 others, 2 girls and another guy. I hardly saw Emma and Joe, Emma spent most of her time at her boyfriend's place these days and Joe stayed in his room playing computer games and snacking all the time. Andrea was the third person and she was kind of the “house mother”. She organised joint shopping deliveries for us all, including toilet roll and milk, and bathroom cleaning rotas. The landlord used her as an unofficial deputy and gave her a discount on her rent because she kept everything running. Andrea worked as a paralegal for a local lawyers company. I had agreed with Andrea that I would have exclusive use of the bathroom that evening to allow me to get out on time, but I needn't have bothered because there was no one else around. I could hears muffled explosions from Joe's room, so I guessed he was home already. So, a quick shower and shave later and I was nearly ready to go. Shaving was a little optimistic, I guess, I'm small and blond so I can't really manage the dark 2-days worth of stubble that Mark at work could manage. He was tall and dark and managed to look slightly disreputable to me, a little like the guy in Poldark. I could never see what women saw in him…

So a white shirt, a dark green tailored fit suit ( being small has its advantages in the sales) and a midnight blue tie with a snowflake pattern and I was done. There was no way that this outfit would get me in any trouble with HR!

As I arrived at the hotel I was beginning to wonder if I was a little over-dressed if anything. There were several young ladies wearing not very much trip-trapping into the hotel on vertiginous heels. When I got through the door I discovered why… although the hotel would easily cater for everyone in the company only the younger colleagues and senior management were present. Also, a lot of the male colleagues had not come, I guess they couldn't be bothered to dress-up for a work do. The ladies seemed to have made up for it, the ones who were present had really gone to town, hair, makeup, sequins, silk and satin with slashes up to their armpits and down to their navels, as my dear old mum would have said.
But, what I hadn't realised was that we weren't the only company joining the Christmas party tonight. There was a local car dealership, the local council and a few other companies there was even one old couple on a table by themselves as “the Jones party” and a larger group as “the Smiths” that I assume was a family and friends group.

There were drinks on a table near the entrance, sparkling wine on one side and a “mocktail” on the other. I didn't want to make a fool of myself at my first social event so I went for a mocktail and I wandered into the crowded lobby trying to find someone I recognised…

There was one girl who caught my eye, not because she was pretty. She was attractive enough, but nothing spectacular, looks-wise. No, the thing that caught my attention was how she was sat, how she held herself. She was sat in the middle of a three-seater sofa with a crowd of men, young and old, around her. She looked like she was a queen and they were her court, even though she was a young woman, early twenties I would guess, in a tiny red sparkly mini dress that looked as though it was demonstrating the limits of the tensile strength of lycra (she kept adjusting it, as I watched). She held the attention of all the men around her. She was spectacularly vivid in her looks and mannerisms. But I didn't recognise her or any of the men she was with, so I carried on with my search.
A short time later a found Cathy standing with Becky and Claire from HR. I said 'Hi’ and stood around, trying to figure out what their conversation was about. It was a, sometimes hilarious, careful and detailed critique of everyone within view of the corner they were in. To call it “bitching” would be unfair, as some of the comments were quite positive, especially about some of the more attractive guys. But the most shared glee was clearly obtained from the shared quiet dissection of other womens’ outfits and appearance.
“Did you see the redhead 'holding court’ on the way in?” I heard a voice say. I was surprised to realise it was my voice. Clearly, so were all the women, they turned to look me up and down and then, not all at once and so subtly that I thought no one would figure out who they were looking at they looked back towards the entrance to find the vivacious redhead on the sofa.

“Oh. Her.” said Claire, in a flat voice.
“We saw her on the way in, like you did.” said Becky. “She clearly loves to be the centre of attention, alright.”
“She has no self respect.” said Cathy.
“You have to give her her due,” Claire said “she’s showing a lot of body-confidence. I don't think I'd dare to wear a dress that tight!”
“Or so short.” muttered Becky.
“If she so much as sneezes she'll be showing a lot more body and a bit less confidence!” Cathy said.
“Surely, she's wearing shorts or knickers under that?” I said.
“Hmph!” said Claire “a girl like that will only wear knickers on certain days of the month!”

That seemed to break the ice. After that they seemed to adopt me as an apprentice bitch. Correcting my misapprehensions if I failed to realise just how skanky a young women really was and exactly how clueless the men following them round were.

After about 20 minutes, during which time we were joined by three other women from the company, we were called into the 'Blackdowns Suite' for dinner. Our company had 3 large tables booked and we had to figure out where we were going to sit on our tables. I sat between Cathy and a girl I'd never met before called Fiona, who worked in the training team.

I had worked with someone from training at the council, for a while, so I was fascinated to find out what kind of training they were providing in my new company. I was surprised by Fiona, she was very chatty, not guarded or affected at all. It was almost child-like in the way she just chatted away saying, apparently, the first thing that came into her head.

We hadn't been sat down very long when a guy from the hotel with a microphone came out and introduced himself as Andy, our MC and DJ for the night. Before we could eat, he told us, we were going to play some party games to get us in the mood. First of all, we were going to play a game called 'heads or tails’. Everyone had to stand up and touch either their head, for 'heads’ or their bottom, for 'tails’. There were a few giggles when he said 'bottom’, I can only assume that some of the girls had had some wine already.
The DJ would then flip a coin, call out whether it was heads or tails and whoever was wrong would sit down. Within a couple of coin tosses we were left with only 5 people still playing, one guy and four women. The DJ called them out into the open area on the dancefloor in front of the DJ’s booth and got them to introduce themselves. The guy was called Mark, and he got a cheer from the guys at the car dealership. The girl who had been holding court earlier was called Jordan and she got a bigger cheer from the guys from the car dealership, where she worked, and a few guys from the other tables too. She was fiddling with her dress a lot, I noticed, every time she pulled it down to cover her bum her boobs threatened to pop out and every time she adjusted her cleavage the dress would ride up. But with her brightly dyed red hair, red dress and nails and her huge smile she certainly attracted attention.
Sandra and Alison were slightly older, one was from the NHS table and one was from the local council, I think. Alison’s dress was black lace with a plunging cleavage. She was very short, with serious curves, she wasn't fat, but she went in and out a lot. The last woman was called Tracy, she had a black dress, black boots and very dramatic dark makeup. She looked slightly predatory. When the DJ got to her he said “Oh no! I know Tracy. The prize for this is a bottle of wine and the last person who needs another bottle of wine is Tracy!”
Tracy just laughed and they carried on with the game. Mark was out straight away, Jordan went next and then Tracy won. She blew the DJ a kiss and went to the bar to collect her prize.

The staff started setting up for the next game as the DJ started explaining. They put eight chairs in a row facing away from the dance floor. Then they put 8 reindeer models at the far end of the dance floor, each on a weighted tray. Each tray had some string tied to it and the string was wrapped around a stick. Each string was more than long enough to stretch across the dance floor, which the staff did, to leave a stick about 30cm long wrapped with string leading back to a reindeer on each chair. They were careful to ensure the string went under the chair and came up in front of the chair leaving a string wrapped stick in the middle of each seat.

“Ok” said the DJ “We need a volunteer from each table!”
Cathy shoved my hand in the air and pushed me forward.
“Take him!” She yelled. Fiona and the other girls on our table joined in…
“Take him! Take him!” They cackled like hyenas as they shoved me forward.

Some other tables had people arguing over who wanted to go up. I noticed Jordan just came forward as if it was her right.

I accepted my fate with a cheery grin and sat down between Jordan and another woman. There were only 2 other guys and 5 women on the chairs. The DJ got us all sat down facing away from the reindeer with the stick in our laps. He told us turning around was a disqualifying event and that the first reindeer to reach the chairs, with all the string wrapped around the stick, would win a marvellous prize.

While the rules were being stated I racked my brains for the best way to do this. The obvious way was to have a hand each side and twiddle the stick, but that struck me as way too slow. The fact that the stick was so long and the string was wrapped in in middle made me think that rolling the stick on my thighs was the way to go. Thinking quickly I realised that rolling the string up my thighs, towards my crotch, which was the direction each of us was currently set to do, would put me at a disadvantage, because I was wearing trousers that would wrinkle up and catch on the stick if I did that. I surreptitiously twisted the stick round while the DJ was talking so the string came up on the back edge of the stick, rather than the front edge, so I would be rolling the stick down my legs to wind it onto the stick. Quickly lifting the stick up to my crotch again would allow me to start the process again and I figured I would quickly wind the reindeer in.
I noticed Jordan glanced at my crotch and I guess she did some calculations of her own because she moved her stick to her knees to roll it in the opposite direction, for the same effect. With her tights being anchored to the opposite end of her, very shapely, legs that seemed like a good idea.

The DJ went down the line and got everyone to introduce themselves, then he checked that everyone was ready. I noticed Cathy and Fiona had come to stand by the chairs, I guess for support, or maybe to have laugh at my expense. A number of other people from the other tables were by the line of chairs to support their colleagues, although most people were content to sit at their tables and cheer from afar. It wasn't that afar, we were in in the same room, after all.

The DJ counted down “3, 2, 1! Go!” and we were off.

Jordan was putting more passion than skill into her movements, and her skirt rose up further than ever, proving Claire's assertion to be true, which was rather distracting. The girl next to me was doing a weird exaggerated twiddling motion, which, with her low cut dress and ample bosom was also very distracting. Meanwhile I got into my own groove and keeping my movements clean and precise I managed to bring my reindeer in first. I fact, it smacked into the back of the chair with some force. Cathy screamed “We won! We won!” while gleefully jumping up and down and gesticulating at our reindeer. Which was also quite distracting. Especially as, with the chair placed where it was and her legs either side of mine so she could get a closer view of the reindeer I got a very up close and personal view of her ample charms. Bouncing up and down a few centimetres from my nose. With all this stimulation, it wasn't surprising that I felt a stirring in my trousers. Fiona, from her vantage a little further back, noticed my predicament. But instead of helping me, she talked in Cathy's ear. Cathy's eyes went wide as she glanced down. Jordan caught on to the fact that something was going on as she saw where Cathy's glance alighted. Cathy fell into my lap with a whoop and ground herself against me, thus making a mountain out of a molehill. Well, it felt like that anyway. As she got back to her feet, Jordan reached across and gave my manhood an appraising squeeze through my trousers.
“Well done!” she said, with an odd smile.

The DJ came over and said “Congratulations, Bobby! Stand up and give everyone a wave!”

Thinking dark thoughts about flagpoles and waving I got to my feet gingerly. Cathy took pity on me and strategically positioned herself so that I didn’t embarrass myself too badly.

By the time we made it back to our table with a huge bottle of prosecco I was pretty much back to normal. Fiona winked at Cathy, so she had probably figured out something was wrong but, what the heck? I was a young guy and it happened, especially if older, busty, women rubbed themselves against me, I had nothing to be ashamed of, as several women now had cause to realise.

“Are you going to open that?” Cathy asked, looking at the bottle.
“I’m driving” I said, ruefully.
“Nonsense! Share a taxi with us, you can crash at our place!”
“Your place?” I’d never really had a chance to figure out Cathy’s living arrangements.
“Me and Fiona share a house over in Park Street, a bunch of girls are staying there tonight. Why don’t you join us? You clearly have a sense of humour and you aren’t such a stiff shirt as we were starting to worry you were!”
I thought for a moment… “What the hell! No one is expecting me home tonight.”
I cracked open the bottle with a Pop! of the cork and several eager hands thrust forward empty glasses.

The rest of the night was a bit blurry for a while. Despite my bravado, I wasn’t used to drinking sparkly wine and it went to my head a bit. I remember the meal, 3 courses, pate and toast, roast turkey and christmas pudding for dessert. Then the DJ kicked off the disco, the lights went down and the girls dragged me to the dancefloor. Every time one lot of girls flagged and sat down, another group would drag me up. I’m not sure when I became the designated dance partner but I think I spent something like 3 hours dancing. I must have danced with every woman in the room.

There was one woman I remember, that I hadn’t noticed before the meal. She looked a little like Daryl Hannah from that old mermaid movie they keep showing on Sky. Long blonde hair, very tall. I thought she was wearing heels, at first, because she was as tall as any of the guys, and a good deal taller than me, but I found she was wearing ballet pumps, black tights, a tiny, tiny tight grey mini skirt that was only decent because the tights were so black and a white blouse that was so sheer you could see the outline of her lacy white bra though it. She moved so gracefully, it was uncanny. She had amazing long legs and she ground herself against the men from her table, and, eventually against me, in a shockingly provocative way.

Oh, and there was another girl, well a pair of girls really, who were dancing together. The short blonde in the black sparkly romper was a good dancer and kept egging on the other girl who was in a red dress showing an extraordinarily ample cleavage. The girl in the red dress was, I think, very drunk and very coarse and making suggestive gestures in my direction, which was kind of awkward.

There were lots of other girls who danced that night, of course, but those were the ones that stood out for me for some reason.

At one point Cathy and I were on the dancefloor and Cathy grabbed my hand like we were doing some form of ballroom dance and pulled me close. I let her lead me in the dance, frankly grateful for the support as I was feeling a little tired by then. I looked over and saw the girl in the red dress and the girl in the black romper mimicking us.

“You have inspired us!” shouted the girl in the romper as she dipped the girl in red, nearly tipping her out of her dress in the bargain then pulled her up for a passionate kiss.

As the evening wore on, more of the men vanished, leaving mostly women left. Cathy took me off to one side of the dancefloor with Fiona and explained that I had to go home with them because I was too drunk to drive.

“Well… “ said Fiona “I guess that’s ok, but he can’t come with us like that?”
“What’s wrong with my suit?”
“Nothing, for a guy, but we’re only allowed to have girls stay the night, our landlord is a real stick in the mud. Our neighbour will see you and shit-stir for the hell of it. We’ll have to disguise you.”

I thought for a moment, there was no way I would be able to order a taxi now, and I wasn’t about to risk driving drunk. It seemed like I had very little choice.

“Sure!, How will we do this?”
Fiona grabbed my hand “Come with me! Cathy - grab the girls and get an outfit together! Meet us in the ladies!”

Cathy’s eyes lit up and she was off on a mission. Fiona dragged me into the ladies. I put up a token struggle but I was too drunk to really care.

There was no one else in there, when we first got in, but that wasn’t the case for long. It seemed like every woman at the party had heard of the plan and decided to ‘help’. Jordan came in first, offering to swap her dress for my jacket. Fiona readily agreed and I was stripped so fast I didn’t have time to complain. Jordan followed suit and was down to her bra and tights in seconds. She handed over a tiny scrap of red glittery fabric as Fiona handed her my suit. I have to say, Jordan looked very sexy in my suit, her hips and boobs stretched the fabric in interesting ways. Pulling the ‘dress’ up my hips it became obvious that it would hang a little more loosely on me, particularly around the boobs. The only area where it was not loose was around the crotch. Once again, the attention of multiple women was triggering my ‘galant reflex’, but in the tiny mini dress it looked positively obscene. Jordan guffawed and offered to ‘take care of that’ for me. At the same time various girls were plucking at my eyebrows, pulling off my shoes and generally falling over themselves to ‘girlify’ me. This felt like it had got completely out of hand.

Suddenly there was a shout - “What is the meaning of this!” a woman’s voice roared with unmistakable authority.
There stood Julie, the hotel’s event manager, the woman who had organised the party on behalf of the hotel. Beside her stood the tall girl in the grey mini skirt I had danced with.

Fiona and Cathy rapidly tried to explain. Julie heard just a little of this and then said loudly.
“Ok! That’s quite enough! I will not allow this party to descend into chaos! You, you and you, Lucy - stay - everyone else - out! Off you go! Back to the party!” Julie had pointed out Cathy, Fiona and the tall girl. Jordan piped up “Hey, that’s my dress! I think I should stay, too!”
“Ok…” said Julie through gritted teeth “the four of you stay, everyone else, out!”
Everyone else vanished, it was eerie how the place went from chaos to silence in a few seconds.
“Right, now we can hear ourselves think. What’s going on?”
Cathy explained that I had to go home with them but they were only allowed to have women. There were going to be a lot of women there and no funny business, but I couldn’t go home with anyone else and she had promised to look after me.
“And you are ok with this?” Julie asked me, with concern in her eyes.
“Sure! It may be the wine talking, but I honestly can’t see the big deal. It’s just…”
I looked at the reflection of myself in the mirror and gestured…
“I look a little ridiculous like this.” I turned sad eyes to Julie and she smiled a warm smile back at me.
“Oh, you don’t realise it, but you have come to the right place, sweetie… come with me, girls!”

Julie led us to an office behind the reception desk. She grabbed several boxes, pointed out several other boxes for Lucy to grab, a bag for Jordan and we all were led to one of the hotel rooms near reception.

Julie led us in and told me to shower and shave my legs and armpits and arms. She handed me a ladies razor and some flower-scented body wash, toiletries and shaving gel. I looked at her, slightly baffled. Julie looked at Lucy and Lucy shook her head slightly and then glanced at Jordan.
“You…” Julie looked at Jordan…
“Jordan” Jordan supplied.
“Jordan… right, go with her and see she does it right.”
Jordan eyes lit up and she saluted Julie before dragging me into the bathroom.

I’m not sure what happened next, we were both naked in the shower and there was some rubbing and squelching that didn’t last very long and we came back out, wrapped in hotel towels, I didn’t have any body hair below my neck and I was much less inclined to tenting the front of my dress. Jordan had a smile like the cat that got the cream.

Jordan had insisted that we wrap big towels around our bodies covering our chests and small towels around our hair.

When we came out the other women gave us a knowing look and I was dragged over to the bed. Laid out on the bed was a bewildering array of flesh coloured rubber, women’s underwear and clothing.

“Lucy, dear, can you help… Bobbie, was it? With her bits and prosthetics?”

“Sure.” said Lucy “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s great, what are you doing?” I asked.

Lucy lifted a thing like a flesh-coloured pair of padded shorts.

“This will help hide what you have and show what you don't have. Let's call them 'spanx'…”
She lifted two detached boobs.
“I think it’s obvious what these are...these ones will look like they have always been part of you, when I’m finished.”
Ladies knickers, “panties”,
Tights, “tights”,
Bra, “bra”,
Jordan’s dress, “and whatever that is…shall we?”

Lucy helped me get into the stuff while the others talked about makeup and shoes. I felt a little awkward as Lucy strapped me into the spanx, especially as her deft fingers tried to show me how to reposition my testicles.

“Is that really necessary?!” I hissed at her, very quietly.
She looked at me, stood up, smoothed her tiny skirt and did a little turn to show me all sides of her.
“I don’t know….what do you think?”
“You mean…. You!?”
“Yep!” she was smiling now.
“No fucking way!”
“Well, I’m touched that you don’t believe me, really I am, it’s quite a compliment, but I have been doing this for a while. It’s how I know Julie. The hotel runs sessions for cross-dressers and trans-women.”
“First session is free!” quipped Julie from the other side of the room.

As all the women in the room turned to look at me and Lucy, trying to force my junk into the spanx my nads shrivelled so completely that they suddenly slipped into place with a disturbing ease.

Lucy stuck the breast forms to my chest and helped me to put on the bra and knickers, which were lacy and cute and felt strangely scratchy on my newly shaved skin.

I was starting to sober up very fast now, or I thought I was, but there was a weird electricity in the air, a kind of excitement, that almost felt like someone had slipped me some drugs. I was flying under the influence of so much adrenaline and so many conflicting emotions.
Lucy helped me slip into Jordan’s dress, only this time I filled it a lot more convincingly.

Cathy and Fiona came over and Fiona fussed with my hair as Cathy did my face - she plucked my eyebrows, a bit, glued on fake eyelashes, fake nails (Fiona painted them, Jordan did my feet), I don’t know everything they did but soon Cathy put on some lipstick and got me to purse my lips then they strapped sandals to my feet, pulled me into a standing position and pulled me over to pose in front of the mirror.

Fiona and Cathy were stood either side of me, thank goodness, because I nearly fainted.
It was a startling transformation, I wasn’t gorgeous, I didn’t project the kind of sexiness or confidence that the other girls did. But I definitely didn’t look like a boy!

I looked pretty, in a girl-next-door way, like a young woman dressing in her older sister’s clothes.

“Right!” said Cathy “we have half an hour of the party left, then we have to get ‘Cinders’ home. Let’s show her how to party like a real woman!”

Julie had tears in her eyes - “Oh, my dear, you look so good! Go, go on! I can clear this up! Have a magical night, and I hope we see you soon!” she tucked one of her business cards into my handbag (I don’t know where I got a handbag!) and handed it to me as she shooed us out of the door.

We trip-trapped our way back to the party. Everybody turned and stared when we came through the doors together and all the conversations stopped for a moment before they roared back in louder than ever. Cathy and Fiona dragged me onto the dancefloor and Jordan and Lucy started trying to get me to dance like a woman.

I hadn’t realised that there was so much difference between dancing as a man or a woman, but they both showed me how to move differently. It certainly felt very different, trying to balance in high heels. Cathy and Fiona got some more drinks in and I was giggling and wobbling by the time the DJ called the last tune. When the tune ended, and Lucy’s friend and Jordan (who had both grabbed me for a last dance and come up with an impromptu ‘Bobbie sandwich’) untangled themselves from me, the girls dragged me out to the black cab before I could go back for ‘one last kiss’ with Lucy’s friend and we were whisked back to the shared house. There were 6 of us in the cab, Jordan was sat on the floor, I’m not sure the driver had realised she had snuck in.
Fiona, Cathy and I were on the back seat together and Claire and Becky were in the seats facing backwards.

“I bet you never thought that you would get Jordan out of that dress!” said Claire darkly.
“I know for a damned fact that you never would have imagined Bobbie getting into that dress!” Becky said, laughing.
We were all shrieking with laughter as the taxi dropped us at the house.

A Christmas Party - part 2


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

-0-0-

Christmas party 2
When we got to Cathy's house we got out of the taxi like the genteel young ladies that we were. Which is to say, we woke the entire street with our shrieks of laughter and drunken giggling.
It took Fiona and Cathy a couple of minutes working together to get the door unlocked. Jordan was clamping her legs together with crossed ankles by the time they finished and she pushed past everyone else with a heartfelt cry of “I need the loo, so bad!”
I don't know how she knew where to go but the door had hardly closed and I'm sure there wasn't time to lock it before the tinkling sound started.

On hearing the sound all four of the remaining girls looked at each other with the dawning realisation that they too, desperately needed the loo. Bags were dropped, belts were loosened and there was some half-hearted and quite careful jostling for position at the door. Cathy apparently decided she didn't need to go so badly that she was prepared to fight everyone else, or maybe she was just playing the good host, but she wandered off muttering something about “putting the kettle on”.
I wandered into the kitchen with her and soon we were organising cups, milk and a teapot on a tray.

“What about coffee?” I asked.
“Hmm, I hadn't thought of that. I know most of us will want tea, you might want to ask your girlfriend”.
“Girlfriend!?”
“That Jordan girl?”
“Oh, her…girlfriend?”
“Well I guess she might just be keeping tabs on her dress, but she seemed very friendly in the shower with you?”
“Oh” I was blushing, in the skimpy dress it felt like every square centimetre of skin was pink now. “We… . yes, I guess I have a girlfriend now?”
“I guess you do. Although, it's strange, she didn't seem that interested until she saw you in her dress…”
Jordan chose that moment to walk through the kitchen door.

“Were my ears burning?” Jordan asked brightly.
“I guess they were” admitted Cathy “We were trying to figure out your intentions with young Bobbi here.” She pointed at me.

Jordan walked over to put a possessive arm around my waist as she learnt against the worktop next to me. It might sound strange but it only struck me as she crossed kitchen that she was wearing my suit jacket, but she didn't have my suit trousers on.

“Mmmm, 'intentions’, eh?” She looked at me like I was a bowl of chocolate ice-cream. “So many possibilities” she grinned and turned to Cathy “you know, I've never had any cause to question my sexuality, at all, until I saw Bobbi in that dress. Now I find it hard to think of anything else. Such a delicious surprise in such a yummy little package!”

Jordan's obvious interest in me was surprising and made me a little uncomfortable, even if it hadn't been for my constrained plumbing.
Cathy turned to me and said, with some concern in her voice, “It looks like the ball is in your court, Bobbi, how do you want to proceed?”
“Proceed?” I was worried, it felt like I was standing on the edge of a precipice and I wasn't clear what we were talking about. It seemed like a good time to change the subject. “Er… Jordan, where are my trousers?”

Cathy lost it completely.

She barked out a laugh like the braying of a donkey.

Jordan looked at her with a gentle smile.
When Cathy finally paused for breath Jordan said “It's fine, I left them with Julie, we can get them next week when Julie is back in the hotel. They didn't really fit me right and I feel better in a dress”.
She opened my jacket to reveal a black dress with tiny spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline that was completely covered when she had had the jacket done up, she left the jacket open now.

“Where did you get that dress?” Cathy asked.
“It was in Julie's box of dress up clothes, I had a rummage while you were doing her make-up”.
Becky came in then.

“Nice dress” she mumbled, I'm not sure if it was aimed at me or Jordan. “Any chance of that cuppa, Cathy?” She continued in a clearer voice “I'm that parched”.
“Coming up” Cathy said “we were just trying to figure out whether Bobbi has a girlfriend, or trousers, for that matter”.
“Ooh, could I have a coffee?” Jordan asked.
“Me too?” I said.
“Heathens” said Cathy, “there's instant in the cupboard there.” She pointed above our heads.
“Instant!” Jordan said indignantly, “and she calls us 'heathens’!”
Nevertheless she started taking the coffee jar down and making us both coffee.

Jordan looked at me and asked “How do you take it, sweetie?”
“Huh?” I answered, I was having trouble concentrating with the full intensity of her charisma focussed on me, especially now her cleavage revealing dress was unleashed from my jacket.
“She means your coffee, silly” Cathy hissed at me, she answered for me “Bobbi likes it sweet and creamy”.
Jordan smirked “Not dark, wet and bitter, like his woman?”
Claire came in then. She asked “What was all the laughing about?”
“Cathy thought it was funny that Jordan has lost my trousers” I said.
Claire peered at Jordan and took in her skimpy dress, then she looked pointedly at me and my skimpy dress, without saying a word she raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Fascinating” she said, absolutely dead-pan.
Cathy cracked up again as Claire struggled to keep an impassive expression.

Finally, Claire couldn't hold it any longer and just gave a very unladylike snort before she too cracked up.

“ She may have lost your trousers, but at least you got into her dress!” Claire said.
“Ah, but did you get into her knickers? Enquiring minds want to know!” Cathy asked me. Before I could think of a response Jordan came back:
“Oh, I never wear them, myself. But Bobbi has enough knickers for the both of us!”
Cathy gaped like a fish, I grinned and nodded and Claire giggled like a lunatic. Becky came through the door and stared at the three of us as if we had escaped from a lunatic asylum. Cathy suddenly stopped, I guess she did the math and worked out that Fiona was the last one left in the loo. With that thought clearly the urgency of her need to prepare was back with full force.
“For F***'s sake, don't make me laugh again!” She warned darkly as she minced towards the bathroom.

“What was she laughing about?” Becky asked. Claire giggled as Jordan replied, “Situational comedy”.
Becky looked baffled.
“You had to be there” I offered, my voice rising slightly at the end to turn the statement into a question. Jordan grinned at me.
“Exactly” she said, and stepped in to kiss me.

I don't exactly remember what happened for a while after that. Her lips were red and glistening and her mouth claimed mine with a finality that brooked no denial. She was very strong. Or maybe I was weak. I didn't know it was possible to get someone else's tongue so far down your throat.
I don't remember much from then on for… well, a while. I stopped thinking. I think I stopped breathing. When Jordan pulled away I think I whimpered.

My entire body tingled like I'd had an electric shock. I blinked and looked around. Claire, Becky and Fiona were staring at the two of us, gaping. Cathy came back in then.
“What did I miss?” She asked, seeing the three women's stunned expressions.
“Pure porn…” Becky said, visibly pulling herself together.
“Wow…” breathed Claire, who looked a little flushed.
“You've never seen two girls make out before?” Jordan asked with an impish grin.
“Nu-uh” said Fiona.
“Right, I think it's clear you two won't be sharing a bed in my house tonight!” Cathy said firmly. She had a twinkle in her eyes, but she meant what she said.
She continued, “Bobbi, you can sleep in my room. Fiona, are you alright keeping an eye on Jordan? Becky and Claire, you can have the sofas in the living-room.”

Jordan pouted then she suddenly became more conciliatory. “Thank you for letting me stay, I know you don't know me yet, but I would love to get to know you all, not just Bobbi”, she gave me a wink as she said my name, “I have never had as much fun at an office Christmas party as I have had with you guys!”
Cathy's stern demeanour softened slightly. She said; “You're welcome to stay, but Bobbi is, I think, very vulnerable tonight, with emotions running high, and the alcohol has been flowing. I don't know who would be taking advantage of whom, but I don't need the drama on a work night.”
“You lot didn't take the day off after a Christmas party?” Jordan asked incredulously “wow, you really are hardcore party animals!”
“We may be, but Bobbi isn't. I think we better drink up and get to bed”.
“Wait…” I said, something was bothering me but I was feeling a little fuzzy now… “Work? What am I going to wear? How do I get my boobs off? Lucy stuck them to me! I can't go to work looking like this!”
“Let me have a look” Cathy said. I went over to her and she started to investigate my chest area. She realised the other four women were staring at my chest. “Ladies. A little privacy? Please.”
Jordan pouted but turned away, the others reluctantly followed suit. Cathy had pulled the top of the dress down and had my boobs on display when Jordan turned around again to look. Jordan held her finger to her lips as she looked me in the eyes and I kept quiet as Cathy prodded and poked. Cathy was so intent on figuring out how to get my attachments off that she didn't notice Jordan.

It made me feel strange, seeing a beautiful woman staring lustfully at my tits. Shy, proud and aroused. I stood a little straighter but kept my head down. Cathy noticed my change in posture and looked round. By the time she looked all the women had turned and were looking at me.
“Hmm, doesn't look as though we need to worry about you being embarrassed, you tart!” Cathy said.
“It doesn't feel like it's really me” I admitted “it's like I'm a puppet of myself or a game avatar, just role playing or something”.
“So, what role are you playing, exactly, when you are standing round with your tits falling out?” Cathy asked with a wry expression on her face.
“Ooh, I know, I know!” Said Jordan “my sissy girlfriend, trying to tease me into becoming a lesbian!” Jordan's eyes became enormous as her face took on a shocked expression “and it worked dammit!”

Cathy cracked up again, and I couldn't help laughing at Jordan's antics. It was an odd sensation, the breasts that were firmly attached to my chest jiggled in time with my chuckles.
“They're quite firmly attached, aren't they?” Claire observed, “very realistic!”
Fiona was looking a little flushed and Becky was starting to look bored. I'd got the impression that she was often bored if she wasn't the centre of attention, a bit like Jordan, though a bit less 'in your face’ about it than Jordan.

“It's quite simple, go into work dressed as a girl. With Claire and I both here you know you are going to get the full backing of HR, so there's no way you can get into any trouble. Plus, everyone has already seen you in that dress…”
“And so much of her is on show!” Fiona inserted her comment quickly into the flow of Becky's words.
“Quite.” Said Becky.
“I could just get up early and go home and get a suit?” I said.
Cathy said “No, I don't think that would work, actually. You don't have a shirt you could do up over that chest, I don't want you flashing more cleavage than Jordan at work… ” that got a “Hey!” from Jordan, which wasn't very compelling given how she was dressed, Cathy continued “... and I don't want you at work in baggy leisure wear, we have a dress code, after all and HR are keen to enforce it.”

“Yes, we are!” Becky agreed, Claire nodded too.

“Ok, so what can I wear then?” I asked, a little annoyed. I had thought I would wear a hoody and hide in the corner.
“Well, it can't be anything of mine, it would swim on you!” Cathy said. Cathy wasn't fat, but she was very curvy and certainly not as skinny as me.

Becky and Claire looked at each other and Becky said “Well, we didn't bring a wardrobe with us, we only have the clothes we were going to wear ourselves.”

“Sorry, sweetie” said Jordan, “I don't have even that much, in fact, I have as going to ask Fiona if I could borrow something tomorrow?”

We all turned to Fiona …

“Well… my trousers wouldn't be any good to either of you, they'd be far too short and look like culottes! But I do have a smart pinstripe skirt suit for Bobbi and I'm sure I can find a dress for Jordan that would show some cleavage!”

Jordan stuck her tongue out at Fiona.

“Ok, we'll do that. Bobbi and I will need to be up at 6 so I have time to sort us both out.” Cathy said.
“6.00a.m., in the morning?!” I tried to convey the full horror I felt at having to wake up in just a few hours time.
“Oh yes. If your going to be a woman in my team, you'll be the best damned woman I can make you!” Cathy said with relish, she went on; “Fiona, can you give me the suit, two pairs of tights and some underwear, so I don't have to wake you in the morning?”
“Sure, I guess. Why two pairs of tights?” Fiona asked.
“Bobbi's never put tights on before…” Cathy said and waited for Fiona to figure it out.
“Got you, high derniers it is then!” Fiona said.
Cathy turned to Jordan next.
“Are you ok with me turfing you out at eight?” She asked.
“Oh sure, I guess it's a bit much letting a stranger sleep in unsupervised after you go to work. It's not the first time I've had to slink home in the morning. It would be nice if someone could lend me a change of clothes in the morning, I'll have them washed and returned before you know it. Oh, and if you have a spare toothbrush?” Jordan said, smiling brightly.
“I'm sure Fiona can sort you out” Cathy said as she looked across at Fiona who smiled and gave a slight nod. “Come with me, young Bobbi” she told me.
“But… my coffee!” I protested.
“Will be cool enough for you to drink when we get back.” Cathy said.

“Wait!” Jordan cried out when Cathy went to lead me away “We need selfies to capture this moment!”
“She's absolutely right” Fiona said “There has to be pictures.”
“What? You don't have enough blackmail material already?” I asked.
“Humph, you try giving someone a simple makeover, and this is the thanks we get” Becky said. I wasn't sure if she was serious, but I thought it probably wasn't a good idea to antagonise her as my safety tomorrow could depend on her.
“Ok...wait...where's my phone?” I asked, suddenly panicked at the thought of losing my phone.
“In your handbag, silly, like all of us!” Jordan said as she handed me the little bag I'd nearly forgotten when we'd left the hotel. I looked inside to find my phone, two condoms, two tampons, a sanitary towel, a purse and some lipstick. My face must have shown my confusion.
“Well, you had to have somewhere to put your stuff, and I wanted it to look convincing.” Jordan said.
I shrugged and got my phone out, unlocked and handed it to Claire.
“Can you take some of Jordan and me?” I asked.
Claire got us to pose together and pull a few faces as she took a few shots then Becky took the camera from her and ordered her into the shots, too. We were goofing around with Fiona and Claire when Cathy came back. I don’t know how many shots Becky took.

Cathy took a few shots with Becky in them and then gave the camera back to Becky and got a nice photo of just her and me together. I still have it in my gallery. I think it makes us look like a mother and daughter.

Becky said “I don’t know what you’re doing, Bobbi, but the camera really loves you. Step aside, Cathy, and let’s see Bobbi strut her stuff...Show me ‘vulnerable’!”

Cathy moved away and a thought for a second and turned puppy dog eyes to the HR bitch who could ruin me with a thought.

“Show me ‘Happy’!” Becky said, just as Jordan stuck her tongue out to me and waggled her tounge piercing, I couldn’t help giggling at her antics.

“Show me ‘Love’!” Becky said, getting into her role of camera-woman, she sounded a bit like Austin Powers from the movies, I half expected her to say ‘and… I’m spent!’. I thought about what the tongue-piercing might mean for me, if Jordan was my girlfriend and I gave her a big smile.

“I said ‘Love’, not ‘Lust’!” Becky said “But… close enough. You could be a model, you know. Fashion loves that androgynous, flat-chested look.”
“Bobbi’s not flat!” Jordan leapt to my defence “We stuck a nice rack to her!”
“You goof!” I said to her fondly, “I am too, flat. At least, I would be without these prosthetics”. I hefted a double-handful to make my point.
“C’mon” said Cathy “Enough goofing around, we have to get ready for bed”.

She led me off to the bathroom upstairs and gave me some wipes to take off my make-up.
“Er… I think I need to pee” I said.
“So, why don't you, then?” Cathy asked.
“I can't feel my willy, or my balls.. “ I said “I'm a little nervous what I'll find 'down there’”.
“Well, there was no time for surgery and no blood, so I think we'll be fine. Do you want to try by yourself, or do you think you need assistance?”
“I'll try it by myself, I guess. But, please, don't go too far.”

“Do you mind if I take a look at how you are trussed up? I didn't get too good a look at what watsername, was up to when you were getting done up and if we are going to keep you from having an obvious outy where you should have an innie I may need to learn some new tricks”.
“I guess not” I sighed, as I started pulling my dress up so I could see for myself what Lucy had done.

We both said “Wow”.
I was wearing pretty lacy white panties over a flesh-coloured pair of elasticated shorts of some sort. But the shorts were kind of padded or moulded. In the same way that Batman's outfit in the latest movies made him look like he had muscles and a six-pack, only these “spanx” as Lucy had called them made it look like I had a lady's butt and no willy.
“Pretty sophisticated for a hotel's 'lost and found’” said Cathy.
“Julie said that they were samples for an event that they hold sometimes” I said, “I think, maybe, there are a lot more men dressed as women wandering around than we think”.
“Well, if they look as good as you and Lucy then no one would ever be able to guess that you weren’t 100% female. I never guessed about Lucy and, dammit, you look too good to be true. I’m going to find it hard to ever see you as a guy again!” said Cathy.
“Thanks, I guess. Still it should be easier to see me as male once I get these spanx off and get my willy out!” I said with more bravado than I really felt. It was ridiculous to be trying to channel my machismo under these circumstances, but I was about to drop my pants, well, panties anyway, in front of my boss. Not something I would have believed if you would have told me yesterday morning.

I eased the spanx down and found my willy, looking quite shrunk and shrivelled. My testicles looked odd, like someone had hollowed them out and pressed the wrinkly skin into my body. Which I guess was almost what had happened. Cathy looked a little confused, so I explained…
“Lucy made me press my testes back up into my body.” I told her.
“You can do that?” she asked, seeming a little shocked.
“Well, I guess I can. Maybe some guys can’t? Mine didn’t actually come out of my body until a few years ago.” I said.
“Really? Maybe that late development is why you look so good as a girl?” she said.
“I don’t look good as a guy?”
“Oh, you look very pretty as a guy, too, I guess - a lot of the young women are into that kind of thing these days I think.”
“Really? Not the rugged, hairy chested macho men?”
“Not so much… most of the younger girls I talk to want someone who’s not a massive dick. Everything else is gravy. Still, every girl is different, and we can all change our minds! Ok, I think we need to leave the spanx off tonight and let things breathe. I’m guessing that will mean your balls drop again in the night and we’ll try and stuff them back inside you in the morning, what do you think?” Cathy asked.
“I’m not very keen on ‘stuffing’ any sensitive bits of me anywhere, but they slipped in once, I guess we can get them back in the morning, unless there’s some swelling or something. Do you have any boxer shorts?...” I trailed off as I saw Cathy’s face.
“Do I strike you as a ‘boxer shorts’ kind of girl?” she asked.
“No ma’am!” I said hurriedly.
“Hmph! ‘Ma’am? Anyway, I have a sleeping shirt and some sleep shorts. The shirt will swim on you and the shorts will fall down… I’d better ask Fiona. Will you be alright getting the rest of that makeup off while I ask?” Cathy said.
“Sure, it won’t take long. Do you have a toothbrush, too?” I asked.
“We have some manual ones, don’t worry. I’ll go and get them.” she said, and left.

This was the first time I’d been alone since I had been dressed as a woman. I took the opportunity to look at myself in the mirror before I took the makeup off. The makeup was a bit smeared, I guess from kissing Jordan. So I looked a little trashy, but I looked a lot better than I was really comfortable with. Lord knows, I looked out of Bobby’s class.

I got to work wiping the make-up off and I was astonished how much stuff came off my face and got left on the wipes. When I looked in the mirror again I looked very different and a bit washed out and pale in the harsh light.

But, I still looked like a girl, to my eyes. Not just because of the incongruous breasts hanging from my chest but because of the shape of my eyebrows and, I don't know, something indefinable about the way I carried myself. Perhaps the oddest thing was that I felt happy about that. I don't recall ever feeling like I was a girl before. I was acutely aware of my deficiencies as a man. Too short, too slender, too graceful. But those things that marked me out and held me back as a man were positives if I were only a woman.

Maybe...maybe, I should make the most of this opportunity? How many men had the chance to see life from the other point of view? What had I got to lose? My manly reputation? Pshaw. My love life? What love life? I got more female attention, dressed as a woman, than I had ever got in my whole life before. Except from my Mum, of course. I wasn't sure how she would take this, but there was no need to let her know, at least, not immediately.

Cathy came back to find me staring at myself in the mirror. She didn't say anything for a while, she just watched me.
Eventually she asked “So… what do you see?”

“Me… a me I have never met before.” I said.

“Hmm, I think we are all going to enjoy getting to know the new you” said Cathy, as she handed me a toothbrush and a very small bundle of dark green satin and cream lace.
I unfolded the bundle to find a pair of lacy green knickers and a beautiful dark green satin nightdress with cream lace detail, thin straps on the shoulders and a plunging neckline.

“It is beautiful, but not very comfortable?” I said.
“You may find it's more comfortable than you think...Jordan asked if you could say goodnight before you head to bed. You may want to wear this peignoir, or she won't leave you alone!” Cathy said as she handed me a kind of lacy dressing gown. “I'll leave you to get ready, come through to the kitchen when you’re done. Then my bedroom is the one at the top of the stairs. See you in a minute?”
“Sure…” I said.
Cathy left and I slipped on the nightie. It was warm, where it touched my skin, which I didn’t expect. I thought the lace knickers would be scratchy and uncomfortable but they were smooth on the inside and touched my skin so lightly that they almost felt like they weren’t there. I shuddered, suddenly overcome by the sheer sensuous pleasure of wearing these pretty clothes and my willy started to stiffen. I remembered that I would have to go out and face my work colleagues, who might have their cameras out (on their phones) with no makeup and this short clingy night dress and the problem went away.

I wrapped the dressing gown thing that Cathy had called a ‘peignoir‘ around me and tied the ribbon tie in a bow at the side. Unlike the towelling dressing gown I was used to this was not opaque, not warm and it did more to frame my nightclothes than cover me up.

I cleaned my teeth and returned to the kitchen, walking softly on bare feet. The girls were talking as I slipped in…
“... damn if he isn’t the prettiest girl among us!” Claire said.
“Not the sexiest, but the camera loves her” said Becky.
“You’re a very lucky lady!” Fiona said to Jordan.
“I think Bobbi will feel that she is the lucky one, if you give me half a chance!” said Jordan.
“Please, go slow Jordan” Cathy warned “I think Bobbi is going to find things very strange tomorrow and it may cause….Oh! Sorry sweetie, I didn’t see you there!”
I had been discovered.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you… What do you think it might cause?” I asked.
“Hmmm? Oh… yes, sorry, talking about you without bringing you in on the conversation. I was just going to warn Jordan not to break your heart, dear!”
“Grrr, that’s NOT what you were going to say!” I answered hotly.
“Oh my god! You are so CUTE when you get angry! I may have to tease you. A lot” said Jordan.
“Cathy?” I said, as I waited for a reply.
“I know it’s a big deal for most men, dressing like a woman. I’m sure it will cause… ripples?” Cathy said. She sounded vague, lame and apologetic at the end.
“Ripples?” I said flatly.
Becky jumped in with both feet, “When you turn up looking like you went from an underdeveloped boy to a stacked Lolita it’s likely to be noticed! You are gorgeous as a woman and that will change how people react to you and, most likely, how you will react to them.”
“It’s one day in drag, what’s the big deal?” I said “Can’t we just say it’s for charity or something? Justin wore a pink dress for Breast Cancer that day and no one thinks he’s… anything.”
“Anything?” Cathy asked.
“I don’t know, gay, trans, weird, whatever!” I said hotly “I wear women’s clothes for a laugh for a few hours and people are trying to pigeon-hole me!”
“Oh.” said Jordan, like someone had stolen her ice-cream “This isn’t a permanent thing?”
She had the strangest expression, half mocking, like she was in on the joke that we were playing on the rest of the world and half wistful, hoping she would convince me to become her lesbian playmate.
“So” I said, desperately changing the subject “ You still think I look pretty without the makeup?”
I posed slightly in the green lingerie, casting my eyes downwards, shyly.
“Oh yes! My pretty peach blossom.” Jordan said, leering at me, “very nice!”
“You are a pretty, pretty Princess” said Becky tiredly, “So, can the rest of us get ready for bed now?”
Cathy said “My dibs on the bathroom first! Bobbi, go on up to bed, dear, you must be exhausted.”
I kissed Jordan goodnight, then headed up to bed. I don't remember taking off the peignoir, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

A Christmas Party - part 3


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

Christmas Party 3

I can't remember the details of my dreams but they were pink and sparkly - full of giggles, glitter, sparkling wine and long smooth legs.
I awoke to an unfamiliar tune on a mobile phone and an arm draped around my body as someone was spooned against my back.

“Wha?...” Cathy groaned. Clearly she wasn't a morning person. Her hand groped around my chest (thankfully stuck on, things could've gotten awkward if they were real), face and finally the bedside cabinet next to my head where the phone was playing a merry tune.
“Bobbi?” Cathy's voice asked a little unsteadily after she stopped the alarm.
“Yes, Cathy?” I answered brightly. I'm not normally a morning person but I could feel adrenaline stirring me unusually this morning a combination of nerves and excitement. I had no idea what I was going to do today.
“Not a dream, then?” Cathy said, I'm not sure if she was asking me or herself.

I slipped out of bed. As I stood up I, there is no delicate way to put this, unconsciously went to 'adjust myself’ as I do most mornings.
Finding my equipment wrapped in sheer lace and my body wrapped in disheveled satin gave me a sensual thrill that my body interpreted in a very sexual manner. I let out an involuntary groan as my manhood suddenly became painfully tight within the knickers. I was shocked at the strength of that feeling. Cathy was slightly taken aback, as well.
“Well, I guess you are pleased to see me this morning!” she joked.
I was mortified, but the extreme embarrassment didn't have the desired effect, if anything the humiliation made the problem more acute.

Cathy saw my discomfort and with a grin she pointed me to the bathroom.
“Go and have a shower and take care of that thing. I'll go make some tea for us and meet you back here in 15 minutes to make a start…” she said. She tossed me the peignoir and I hurried awkwardly to the bathroom.

I'm too embarrassed to describe what I felt or what I did in the bathroom that morning, and I'm sure most of you don't want the sordid details anyway. Those of you who do want details, why don't you get a satin nighty and some knickers and try it for yourself? You may find out something unexpected about yourself, like I did.

I love dressing in women's clothing.

Afterwards, when I had showered and cleaned my teeth, I inspected myself. There wasn't much that was out of place, but I found a new disposable razor (that was pink!) and shaved my face as closely as I could. I couldn't see any stubble, but it felt smoother afterwards. Being blonde means my stubble doesn't show too much.

I left the nightie and knickers in the wash basket and headed back to Cathy's bedroom with the green sheer peignoir wrapped round me. It felt a little uncomfortable because my skin and hair were still a little damp and it stuck to me in an odd way.

Cathy caught me as she was coming up the stairs and I was on the landing.
“Oh no! That's all kinds of wrong! Get back in the bathroom!” she told me.
We went back in and she put the two mugs of tea down by the sink.
She struggled to find space as there were so many brushes and tubes and stuff around it.
Cathy took a large towel and a smaller towel from the cupboard on the landing and wrapped one round my body and one round my hair (yes I had to take the peignoir off).
She took the tea, got me to take the gown and we headed back to her room.

There she sat me down in front of a vanity on a chair, unwrapped the towel around my head and blow-dried my hair. She kept up some kind of conversation, but it was quite one-sided because I could barely hear her over the woosh of the drier and the pleasure of having someone fussing with my hair was incredibly soporific.
Before too long she had finished and I was woken up with a shock.
“C’mon, off with the towel, then” Cathy said brightly.
“Do you often ask men to strip naked in your bedroom?” I asked, cheekily.
“If I see a man in this room, you can be sure he will soon be naked!” Cathy laughed “Now c'mon! We haven't got time to face around!”

Despite leaving the 'spanx’ that Lucy gave me off all night, one of my testicles was still up inside my body, which was an odd feeling. But not as odd as trying to find the way to pop the other one back in. It's kind of hard to describe… Cathy got me to lie on my back, naked, legs bent at the knees and raised while it tried to find the tube inside my body to gently coax my testicles back into. Have you ever seen those finger trap mesh tube things? It feels a bit like trying to squeeze a large grape into one of those. It was kind of satisfying when it nestled into place but a bit nerve wracking and uncomfortable while I was trying to find the right way to do it. With my boss trying to help. Awkward. And humiliating.

Still, once I'd done that and tugged the spanx into place a new confidence filled me. No one would believe I was a guy. If anyone could see me like this, almost naked as I was, they would know that I was female.

What a strange thing to give me confidence.

Cathy handed me a matching set of bra and panties in a pink lace and I slipped them on, she adjusted the straps on the bra and I felt even more girly. She showed me how to put the tights on, although I could probably have figured it out for myself. The waistband of the tights came up well above the waistband of my knickers. The tights were opaque and a dark brown colour, not quite black. All the while we were doing this Cathy and I were talking softly. I couldn't tell you what we said, it was kind of a background buzz, soothing my nerves as she talked me through putting on the unfamiliar clothing.

She sat me down and draped a towel around my shoulders. She got me to position the chair so the light was on my face and she started putting makeup on me. She explained each step as she went, foundation, blusher eyeliner, mascara. Eyeliner was scary, but mascara was scarier, as she got me to keep my eyes open without blinking as she waved a black bristled brush millimetres from my eyeball.
Cathy primped me and painted me, it felt nice to have someone look after me and pamper me like that.

Eventually she said “That'll do, for now. Let's get you dressed!”
She handed me a dusky pink suit on hangers, a blouse…
“Oh! You'll need a slip with that skirt and those tights!” she exclaimed and she hurried to a chest of drawers and got a white satiny-looking skirt thing.
Cathy said “I've got to start getting myself ready! Will you be alright getting that on? Oh! Shoes! Size 6?”
“I think so” I replied.
She grabbed some shoes from the bottom of the wardrobe and put them by the bed, without another word she grabbed a few bits and ran from the room. I heard the bathroom door click shut with a very positive click and some muffled cursing that sounded like Becky.

I decided to put on the slip, blouse, skirt and jacket - in that order. I tried the shoes on and they were a surprisingly good fit. They were black lace ups with a slight heel, classic and conservative. I looked in the cupboard where Cathy had found them. There were some boots, which looked interesting and some court shoes and strappy sandals. I did think about trying something else on, but I wasn't sure what Cathy would think. Before I could make up my mind, Cathy rushed back into the room and did all the things to herself that had taken her an hour in about three minutes. She didn't need to dry her hair, apparently, and she knew where everything was.

“Accessories!” She cried “What have you been doing while I was washing?”
“Looking at your boots…” I replied.
“Yeah, such a girl!” Cathy laughed “Right, girly, what bag shall we give you?”
It was clearly a rhetorical question.

Cathy tossed me a necklace and a watch and went to look in the top of her wardrobe. She grabbed a large floppy black leather handbag and started stuffing things in it.

I put the necklace on, but I didn't bother with the watch. I always used the clock on my phone.
I saw Cathy was putting tampons and sanitary towels in the bag. I guess they were some sort of protective camouflage. She also threw in a purse, my phone and a bunch of other things from the bag I had last night.

“Right!” she said, as she handed me the bag “Normally I would have a cup of tea and go, but I don’t think we will have time… you really want to get in early today, I think.”
“Why would today be differ… oh, right...But...why do I want to be early?” I asked.
“Do you want to walk past everyone, as the five minute wonder, dressed like that?” Cathy asked.
“Well...I don’t think many people would recognise me, they barely recognised me when I was dressed as a guy!” I said.
“Hmm, that may have been true before, but now? I think you have a rude awakening when you realise just how much extra scrutiny women are under in the workplace. Plus, you are pretty, which is going to make people’s view suddenly become much more polarised. You are going to make all the men, and maybe some of the women, question their own sexuality, and yours, and that kind of thing tends to make people… volatile, from experience.” Cathy said.
“From experience? You’ve employed transvestites before?” I asked, a little snidely.
“Transvestite? Where did that come from?” Cathy asked.
“Isn’t that the word for a man who dresses like a woman? I’m sure Eddie Izzard said that’s what he was, when he explained it?” I said.
“Hmm, I think it may be a little early to start trying to name what it is that you are doing...Let’s just call it ‘a laugh’ for now and get through the day?” Cathy said.
I nodded and Cathy urged me out the door. We went downstairs to find almost everyone else was dressed and ready to go. They all had mugs of tea. I know Cathy had prepared us drinks but I hadn’t had time to drink mine, and neither had she, I think.

“Right, she finally makes a showing, let’s look at you then!” said Becky.
I did a hokey little pirouette, as I turned I wondered where Jordan was. I really wanted to see her face and know what she thought of this outfit, and me in this outfit. She arrived behind me as I finished my turn and wolf-whistled.
“Wow, is that ‘office Barbie’ my girlfriend?” she asked, with a cheeky grin.

She was wearing a more casual outfit, still with a skirt, as Fiona had said, we were both so much taller than her that her trousers would have looked odd on us. But, where I was wearing tights, Jordan had knee high socks with pink ribbon bows on the top and mary-janes with a heel, a short denim skirt and a tank top and cropped hoodie. She looked like a porn-star pretending to be a school girl.
“It’s classic.” I said simply.
“Yeah, I think you got the better end of the deal, Fiona chose this for me, it’s not my normal style.” Jordan said.
“Well, the taxi will be here any second, so you better say your goodbyes.” Claire said.

Jordan and I checked that we had each other’s numbers on our phones then Jordan grabbed me and kissed me the same way she had last night.

Cathy broke us up after less than a minute.
“Thanks, Jordan, now you’ve messed up the makeup I spent all morning on!” Cathy said
Jordan said “Sorry, not sorry!”
Claire giggled.

Cathy fished out the lipstick she had used earlier from my bag and helped me touch it up. Jordan took a mirror from her bag and did the same.

The doorbell rang and Cathy started ushering us all out of the house, including Jordan.
“Are you going to be alright?” I asked Jordan “Do you need us to drop you somewhere?”
“I’m alright,” she said “one of the lads from the garage is already on his way.”
“I thought you said they weren’t working?” I said.
“No. I said I wasn’t working! One of the perks of the owner being my Dad!” Jordan said with a chuckle.
“Come on!” said Cathy “Unless you want to walk, get your cute little ass in the flippin’ taxi!”
“Bye!” I said to Jordan as I hurried to get in.
“Bye sweetie!” she said.
Becky slammed the door and we were off, I could see Jordan with her arms wrapped around herself shivering as we drove off.

“What about my car?” I asked Cathy.
“Becky will give you a lift to pick it up tonight, if you want.” Cathy said. Becky nodded as she said this.
“Are you sure you want to drive while you’re dressed like this?” asked Fiona.
“Whyever not?” I asked.
“Well, I’m pretty sure the photo on your driving licence doesn’t look anything like you now!” said Becky.
“Does anyone’s driving licence photo look like them?” I asked.
Everyone chuckled and shook their heads.
“Anyway,” I carried on “it’s not as though it’s illegal to wear womens’ clothes, otherwise half of you would have been arrested by now!”
“Technically true” Cathy agreed “but not everyone will see it that way. Nevermind, call me if it happens and we’ll rally political support for you!”
“Political support?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” said Becky “we can get them to release you or sue them for trans-phobia and whatnot!”
“I'm not a political activist or militant transvestite, I'm just trying to make it through the day and get these tits off so I can get back to normal!” I said.
“Yeah, I'm not sure any of us are buying that. You look too comfortable and you pass too well for that to be the end of it. Plus, I'm pretty sure your lesbian girlfriend will have something to say about whether you end up wearing girls' clothes or not!” Claire said.
I couldn't really argue with that. The comment about me looking so natural, as a girl, should have been an insult but it sparked a small glow of vanity and pride. Damn it, I did look good like this!

-x-x-

The journey to work didn't take long at all. I think we could have walked it. But maybe not in heels.
We got out of the taxi as Cathy paid. Cathy hissed at me as I tried to climb down “Bobbi, dear...keep your knees together!”
Oops. I blushed. Not that anyone could see anything, there was more material between my nether-regions and the outside world than I normally wore, but it was the appearance that counted.

We came into the reception and went to go our separate ways. I had a bit of a moment when I couldn't think where my door pass was, but everyone else was reaching into their handbags and it struck me where it might at be.
It took a little hunting, but I found it in my purse and went to let myself through. Cathy was waiting for me, which I was grateful for. But so was Becky.

“I think you should come with me now and we’ll sort you out a new ID card.” Becky said.
“I don’t think I need a new ID card for one day, surely!” I protested.
“You may as well humour her.” Cathy said “It won’t take more than a few minutes and it will give you a story to tell your grandchildren!”
“Sure, I guess we have a few minutes before the crowd get here. Let’s go.” I said. I realised when I was fighting a losing battle. Now, more than ever, my life was in the hands of my line manager and HR. I guess I never really stopped to think how much soft power these people held over me until I was walking into HR in a pink skirt suit.

Still, it didn’t appear that Becky was out to humiliate me, or anything. In fact, she took the best ID photo that I ever had in my life. It didn’t look like me (when do they ever) it looked better than me. I had a gentle smile and dewey lips. Wow.

I hurried back to the IT department with my new ID card round my neck on one of the lanyards that all of the other girls used. Some of the guys used them and some had their ID clipped to their belt. I used to have a belt clip.

It was only when I was halfway back that I realised I had left my old ID in HR. Oh well, I thought to myself, I could always get another one.

I got back to my desk to find a cup of coffee waiting for me. Cathy smiled as I sat down opposite her.
“Ready for the standup?” she asked me.
“There's no chance of skipping it for a day?” I asked, trying not to whine.
“I think you would only paint a target on your back. Don't let them smell fear, own this and they will back down first, I'm sure. Or… I hesitate to suggest this, it's a weapon of last resort…” she paused dramatically “you could always try crying. Men hate making a pretty girl cry!”
“Thanks for the advice, I am gaining valuable insight into how 'the other half’ operates.” I said.
“Yeah, pity for you it's not so much 'the other half’ now and more other girls.” Cathy retorted “Anyway, time to do this…”

She stood up and I, and the rest of the development team, went into 'Meeting Room 1’ for our morning meeting. I followed immediately behind her, with the rest of the team coming in behind me as they saw Cathy go in to the meeting room. These meetings were so much a part of our daily routine now that there was no need for any kind of announcement.

As I went over to stand next to Cathy I was vaguely aware of some of the guys asking each other ‘who the new girl’ was. I wasn’t too worried, I had our boss and HR on my side, I thought.

Cathy started “Ok, some of you have noticed the new girl in the room, some of the more observant of you may have noticed Bob Smith isn’t with us today. I’ve spoken with Ms Smith about why she is dressed this way today and I understand and applaud her reasons. Let that be an end to it and please, don’t give her a hard time about it unless you are prepared for me to give you a very hard time in return! I don’t want to hear any more about this. Mark, you can start…”

And with that the meeting was off to a start and no one dared say a word. It was bizarre. I stood there straight-backed with my head held high next to Cathy and none of the guys would meet my eyes. Several took sideways looks at my legs, ass and tits - they were guys after all.

After the meeting was over and we had all gone round the table in turn and briefly discussed what we did yesterday and what we would be doing today everybody returned to their desks as if everything was normal.

It all felt, bizarrely, normal.

I went to get my first coffee of the morning and I offered to get Cathy one too. Kieran looked like he was trying to gather the courage to make some sarky comment that could have been career-limiting, given Cathy's comments earlier. He saw Cathy watching me as I went towards the kitchen and, apparently, thought better of what he was going to say.

Mark was in the kitchen when I got there. There was an awkward silence between us. I’d often been a little tongue-tied around Mark, he was… imposing, I guess. Everything masculine that I wasn’t, tall, lean with dark hair and muscles and perpetual stubble. He always looked just a little bit disreputable, even though he was genuinely a nice guy. Normally Mark was outgoing where I was shy and we got along ok. Now, there was a tension in the air, I’m not sure what it was. He seemed… nervous?

I said "Hi”, and went to make my drinks.
He took a step back and let me get on with it. He was stood behind me while I was getting the coffee from the cupboard over the sink. Someone came in as I was stretching up to get the coffee, even with the heels I was wearing I was still too short to reach it easily. I saw Dave coming in as I glanced round at the noise of the door and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark look away with a strange expression on his face. He almost looked like he was starting to blush.

I said “Hi” to Dave and hurried to get back to making the drinks. I glanced round at Mark again and that was when I figured it out. Oh shit, he was checking me out! Judging by the slight bulge in his crotch and the way he was looking he really liked the way I looked now
.
I wasn't sure how I felt about a guy I knew adding me to his 'wank bank’, but my body seemed to come alive. My breath was a little short and I stood a little straighter without any conscious thought. Did I fancy Mark now? That was a disturbing thought as I realised what was happening.

Dave asked “So, is this a permanent change?”
“It started as a kind of dare gone wrong, but the longer I'm stuck like this, the more natural it feels” I admitted, probably over-sharing.
I picked up my mugs, ready to head for the door.

Mark moved forward to carry on making his drinks his hand brushed my back as he moved to step around me and his touch startled me so that I nearly spilled my drinks.

I headed back to my desk with my mind whirling. How was I going to get through the day like this if every chance meeting became a minefield of sexual tension?

I gave a mental shrug. It was bound to be weird at first, I guess. If any of the other men in the office had come in wearing women's clothes before now, I'm pretty sure I would have stared. I don't think I would have been turned on, though. That was just weird. But my response to it was normal, we all like to be admired, right?

As the rest of the day went on I increasingly forgot about how I was dressed. The first time I got up to go to the loo Cathy reminded me to go to the ladies.
“I'll come with you, just to check the coast is clear.” she said.

She ushered me to the ladies, I wasn't sure what the problem was with me going in a cubicle in the Gents loo, but Cathy put her foot down when I suggested it saying it would be too much of a distraction.

There aren't too many women on our floor so I wasn't too bothered when Cathy ushered me in. I was more bothered when she took the cubicle next to me and… well, you know...went.
It took me longer to get the layers down than it took her, so, when I finished she was waiting for me by the sink. I could hear her washing her hands while I was peeing, which was kind of distracting. But I was so relieved when I released myself that I managed to go anyway.
She'd made me take my bag, which I thought was weird. When I came out she got me to wash my hands first (I was insulted, I am always very fastidious about that) then she took my bag and helped me “freshen up” my lipstick. She impressed on me the need to check myself in the mirror before heading out and to check my knickers were up with no paper and my skirt was down and not tucked in my knickers and I didn't have anything stuck to my shoe.
“This is why women go to the toilet in groups?” I asked.
“On dates? Don't be silly, we go to share jokes about the guys.” Cathy said.
“I have a lot to learn.” I replied.
“Oh?” Cathy's ears pricked up “You've decided to come over to the pink side?”
“Er… I'm not sure that's entirely my choice. Jordan seems to have some strong views!” I said.
“Yes, she is a very...forthright lady,” Cathy said, “but you only met her last night! Most guys wouldn't…” she tailed off as I gave her a flat stare.
“Most guys wouldn't let their bosses talk them into dressing as a girl and going into work? Are you calling me a 'girly-boy’?” I said, fiercely, but in a higher pitched voice than usual.
Cathy cracked up, she was still laughing as she led me out of the toilets. We nearly bumped into Joyce as she was coming in.
“Oh!” she said, doing a double-take as she failed to recognise me. Then the penny dropped.
“Bob?!” she said “What on Earth are you doing in here?! And dressed like that?!”
“Company policy, Joyce, if you are presenting as a woman, you use the women's toilets. Check with HR.” Cathy said, as she led me away “c'mon, Bobbi, back to work!”
I made a little fingertip wave to Joyce and mouthed “Sorry!” to her as we went. Joyce stood in the doorway of the toilets gaping like a goldfish.

I got back to my desk and settled down to code. I had a few questions for Cathy about 30 minutes later, I didn't think anything of it, but she seemed, nicer, somehow. More relaxed and forthcoming and willing to explain things.
About 30 minutes after that I'd finished the thing I was working on and I decided to take the opportunity to discuss it with the end-user who created the original request.
I spoke with Cathy about it and she thought it was a great idea to get some early feedback so I rang Brian, explained that I was the developer working on his issue and asked if I could talk with him about it. Brian agreed, somewhat grumpily, I thought. I grabbed my laptop and set off to find him.

The girl sat at the desk near the door in the finance team was lovely, she pointed me in the right direction then led me over to introduce me to Brian. Brian was a senior accountant and I expected him to be a bit dry, but I didn't expect him to be so rude.
“Yes? What is it, girl? I'm a busy man you know!” he said.
“Er, I'm Bobbi, the developer, we spoke on the phone?” I said. I wasn't sure I had the right guy, he didn't seem like someone finally getting what he'd asked for.
“Are you an intern or something? Didn't they have a real programmer?” he said.
“Well, that's very flattering that you think I look so young. You know what they say: ‘if you want something done on a computer, give to someone young’” I said.
“And I suppose you think I'm too old and set in my ways to use a computer?!” he snapped.
“Huh?” I did a double-take, how did this get to be about him? “I'm sorry, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. How about I just show you what I have for you?”
“Very well…” he said, and just sat there waiting with his arms crossed as I setup.
Fortunately I'd set everything up ready to demonstrate on my laptop, the WiFi connection worked seamlessly, for once, and because I'd just been writing the code, and I'd had the foresight to run through the demo twice, everything worked flawlessly and I side-stepped one or two areas written by other developers that I knew weren't 'ready for primetime’ yet, so I didn't distract the user with irrelevancies.

Brian insisted on looking at these irrelevant bits, though. He called me a stupid girl (under his breath) because I couldn't answer questions about areas that were completely outside what I was working on. He even called me names when I tried to defend my colleagues who weren't there to answer his vitriol. In short, he was mean to me. I felt my eyes begin to blur at the injustice of this dinosaur making up BS to make me feel bad. What the hell?!

I made my excuses and left, fled would be more accurate.. I caught the eye of the girl I spoke to on the way in and the pity in her eyes, even with the smile of solidarity, almost finished me.
I made it to the loos before I lost it. I wept to myself quietly for a few minutes. All the while I had flashbacks to how I should have spoken to Brian. Comebacks and put downs. At the same time I despised myself for being weak. Mostly for letting the side down. I was too pathetic to be a girl. I always had this reaction to injustice and unwarranted criticism that I couldn't respond to. It made me furious and embarrassed in equal measure that I couldn't keep a lid on my emotions and they just boiled over sometimes. But, how had Brian pushed my buttons like that? Normally only my Mum could get that kind of response from me.

I came out of the cubicle and surveyed the wreckage of my face in the mirror. Shit.
There was nothing I could do, I didn't have the tools or the knowledge to repair this level of damage. I rang Cathy, hating myself for being this pathetic.
“Cathy?...” I said tentatively.
“Oh my god! What's wrong?” Cathy said.
Did I really sound so pathetic that she could tell over the phone?
“Aw hell… Brian was mean to me and I started crying and now I'm stuck in the loos on the second floor looking like someone from Kiss. Can you help me patch up the damage?” I asked.
“I’ll be right there” Cathy said and the phone went dead.

A short while later I heard the door to the loos open and someone walked in, I came out of the cubicle to find, not Cathy, but the girl who had directed me to Brian.
“Oh!” she said, when she saw my face.
“I know, I must look a fright...it’s so silly, it’s just been a kind of emotional roller-coaster of a day and Brian…” I sighed “He pushed my buttons, I guess. I let him get under my skin, I don’t know why, I’m not normally like this…” I trailed off.
“No. You’re normally a guy, right?” she said as she held out her hand “Hi, I’m Karen, I’m so sorry about Brian”.

Just then, Cathy came in, she took one look at my face and stepped over to sweep me into a hug. I felt another pair of arms round my neck and before I knew it I was in a group hug in the ladies toilets.

Cathy took charge, in a 'no nonsense’ way, all “no point worrying over spilled milk” and “the best way to show him is to look amazing” the aphorisms coming thick and fast.
Karen was much more conciliatory, “I don't know how you kept it together, he was horrible to you” she said, as she redid my makeup.
Did I mention that Karen was beautiful? If I had been in a suit, single and not in the ladies loos I would have been compelled to make an ass of myself trying to get her attention. I think she was probably a natural beauty, she had great bone-structure, high cheekbones and wide-set eyes. But, in addition to that she had flawless makeup, slightly overdone for my test, but she was clearly an artist. When I looked in the mirror it took my breath away. When I had come into work this morning I had a 'girl next door, at the office’ kind of look. Now I looked like a classy, elegant Ice Queen. I sucked my cheeks in slightly, to see the effect. Wow. I looked like a Karen in training.
“Oh yes, now that's the face we show to Brian!” Cathy enthused.
“It's nearly lunchtime” Karen said “Why don't you give me five minutes and come up and meet me for lunch? I'm pretty sure Brian will feel sorry for ever giving you cause to disdain his company!” She gave a feral grin that was slightly disturbing on such a pretty face.
“Thank you so much, Karen. It looks amazing. You've been so kind…” I said.
“...But you're wondering why a complete stranger would help a transvestite she doesn't know?” Karen filled in.
“Well, I wouldn't have put it that way but...yes” I said meekly.
“You have chosen a hard path. The fact that you're pretty won't make it any easier, we women have got to learn to stick together!” Karen said firmly.
“Here, here!” said Cathy. She held out her hand to Karen and they solemnly shook on it.
We all trooped out of the toilets and Cathy and I went to get our coats.
I said to Cathy in a bewildered whisper “Karen said I was pretty?”
“And now she made you beautiful, sweetie!” said Cathy.

A Christmas Party - part 4


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Brian gets snubbed and Bobbi has lunch with the ladies.

A Christmas Party - part 4

When Cathy and I trooped back up to see Karen we found her talking softly to Brian. His face was sour. There was a moment of malevolent glee when he saw me first, followed by confusion when he saw we had our coats, more confusion when he realised my boss was with me and… a really odd and creepy look when he took in the face Karen had painted on me.

I gritted my teeth and smiled sweetly at Brian as I asked Karen if she was ready to go to lunch.
Karen answered “I'll just grab my coat…” at the same moment as Brian said “I could do with a break!”
“Oh, I'm sorry, I think you misunderstood” I told Brian, fake sympathy pouring from my lips “We don't have a spare seat, we're going for a 'girls only’ lunch, no boys allowed!”
Brian swallowed his disappointment and embarrassment at being snubbed.
“Ah well.. I guess I'll just 'hold the fort’' then!”
“Yes, hold that thought” said Cathy, which left him looking more confused.

“Let's get out of here!!” Karen said, and we left, giggling to each other at nothing.
When we got to the stairs Karen said “Did you see his face? That was priceless!”
“Are we going to give Becky, Claire and Fiona a call?” I asked.
“Fine by me…” Karen said.
“Are you ok with going to the 'Newt and Cucumber'?” Cathy asked.
We both replied “Sure!” and nodded. Cathy got out her phone and explained the plan to Becky as we walked up the hill into town and the pub. Karen and I chatted with each other as Cathy walked a little behind us and talked on the phone. Karen was really lovely, not stuck up at all, despite my impression when I'd seen her from afar when I'd joined the company. I guess that might have been because I was dressed as a guy then. Karen was very down-to-earth and matter-of-fact, she asked me how long I'd known I was a girl?

Cathy had just hung up on Becky and she was clearly interested in the answer, too.
I tried to work it out with my fingers…
“Er… about… 12….. yeah, 12 hours. If you take out time I was asleep...6 hours? I think, roughly, that I've been dressed like this...well, not like this, I only put this outfit on this morning. Lucy glued my boobs on about...9? 9 o'clock, yesterday evening” I said. I looked at Cathy for confirmation and she nodded and gave me a quick smile. It suddenly hit me, yesterday evening I'd been a normal guy heading out for a normal-ish evening out. I almost felt like I couldn't remember my old life anymore. I couldn't connect myself emotionally with the person I had been 24 hours ago.

Karen's jaw dropped but she recovered quickly.
“I find that hard to believe that you didn't have an inkling… you look and act in such a feminine way now.” she said.
“I know, right,” Cathy chipped in “we dressed him in his girlfriend's dress for a laugh, I think the joke is on us, we've created a monster!”
“Girlfriend? What does she make of your crossdressing?” Karen asked.
“I can honestly say, she's fine with it…” I said.
“Actively encourages it, actually…” Cathy chipped in.
“To be frank, I'm not sure she'd look twice at me if I lost these boobs” I hefted my girls to underscore the point.
“So… she's a lesbian?” Karen asked?
“Sort of, it's complicated. I think I pushed some buttons she wasn't previously aware of”. I said.
“She watches Bobbi like a cat watches a salmon fillet, it's disturbing” Cathy said.

We got to the pub and it was heaving. We found a table far from the bar and sat down. I looked at the menu and realised that you could connect to the WiFi in the pub and order a meal without leaving the table. I grabbed my phone from my handbag (I experienced one of those odd double-takes where I was doing something that yesterday would have been virtually unthinkable, i.e. carrying a handbag, and today seemed a perfectly natural consequence of not having functional pockets).

My IT skills were undiminished by wearing a skirt and I had connected to the free WiFi and downloaded the pub's app in about as long as it took to say it. I looked at the menu in the same way as the others did and I'd ordered my lunch before Karen and Cathy had finished deciding what they would have.

I explained to Cathy what I had done, Cathy was intrigued but Karen wanted to pay cash so the two of them headed to the bar to order their food, I stayed at the table to guard the table and our coats. The pub was so busy that it took them a long time to work their way to the front of the queue and place their orders. Becky and Claire arrived while Cathy and Karen were away. I explained about the online ordering. To underscore how effective it was someone bought out my drink and meal as Cathy and Karen got back to the table while I was still explaining the app to Becky and Claire. The upshot was, I had to show them how to download and use the app instead of tucking into my meal. Then Fiona turned up and I had to explain to her as well, and load the app for her.

So, even though my meal turned up first (by far) it wasn't long after I started eating that everyone else's food arrived.
Mine was a little cooler than I would have liked by the time I started eating, but it was still edible.

The conversation around the table was very lively and there was a lot of laughing. We were all drinking soft drinks but getting louder as we finished eating.
No one was making a big deal out of me being there, no one pointed out what a freak I was. I got a little teasing about my girlfriend, but so did Karen (who knew she was a lesbian? I hadn't realised) and Becky got teased about her string of men. I held back a little, at first, not wanting to show myself up. But all the girls sucked me into the various conversations that were going on, they asked my opinion on things (boys, makeup, programming languages and politics) and shared their views. By the time we had finished eating, which took longer than normal, it was time to head back to work and I had a warm fuzzy feeling that I was with friends.

We clattered back to work in our heels, talking loudly over each other and laughing at Karen's impression of Brian's 'shocked' face.

Cathy steered Becky and me into the ladies loos downstairs while the rest headed upstairs. Karen gave me a hug as she went.

I said to Cathy "But I don't need the loo!"
"Silly girl, you need to check your face! The wind could have blown your hair askew, you might have spinach in your teeth, anything could have happened while you were out and distracted!" Cathy said.
"Huh?" was my reply.
"Becky, back me up here?" Cathy said.
"It's a good idea" Becky agreed "It's not a rule, but… women are held to a higher standard of appearance…"
"Really?" I interrupted, "Including Dasha in call handling? She was wearing wet-look leggings and a t-shirt that said 'I'm here, now what are your other two wishes?'"
Becky said "Yes, but she's young, Czech, and she has the attitude to pull off that look. Plus, her hair was looking good, even if it was dyed scarlet, and everything was clean and fit properly. Think about Ben or Dave…"
"Or Brian!" Cathy chipped in.
I had to admit, they had a point. All three of their examples were guys who were relatively senior and were complete slobs. Ben wore a polo shirt to work every day, you could tell which one of his three shirts he wore by the faded pattern of the foodstains in it and they were all grey now, rather than white. Brian wore a suit and tie, but it was obvious he hadn't bought a new one in years and he had put on a fair amount of weight since they had been bought. Dave just looked perpetually scruffy, his hair never seems to have seen a comb and his clothes always seemed to be disheveled in some way.
Thinking about the women in the company… I'd never really thought about it before, but they did seem to hold themselves to a higher standard than the men.

"I guess you're right" I allowed "but it's a self-imposed standard, though?"
Becky snorted, Cathy shook her head and said "Oh you poor innocent child, what will you do when you learn about the double standard?"
"Oh!" I said "I've heard about that! It's when, if a girl sleeps around she's a slut and if a guy does it he's a hero?... That doesn't seem very fair?"
"Ha! A girl for one day and she already has some insight!" Becky said.
"But it's not just men that hold you to that standard" I said, thinking aloud "Other women judge you, too - and you judge them! You were bitching about Jordan last night!"
"...and you were right there with us" said Cathy "it's one of the reasons we thought you'd make a good girl, you fit right in!"
"But…" I struggled to understand "that means you're like… like slaves to a system where you are expected to make your own chains and share them with the other slaves!"
"Well… I wouldn't go that far, but there is something to what you're saying." Cathy said.
"It's hard, letting go of all the habits of a lifetime" said Becky, "plus, it's _So_ much fun to slag off the skanks!"
"But… don't you have shared experiences of discrimination and a common enemy?" I asked.
"Well, yes, when you put it like that. But… some of those 'enemies' are _very_ friendly enemies. And the skanks are in competition for the nicest enemies, with cutest bums and the biggest…" Becky paused, waiting for us to insert our own word in her sentence… "smiles" she concluded, clearly meaning another word.
"So, it's complicated?" I asked.
"For women, who are born with all the bits, yes. For you, it's a lot worse than that, I'm afraid." Cathy said. "I worry that this has got out of hand and your life is about to get a lot more complicated". She looked a little sad as she said this.
"Yeah, I guess some women would see you as both the enemy and the competition at the same time. To say nothing of how most guys would see you as competition at best and a trap at worst…" said Becky.
"I've never really understood that whole 'trap' thing" Cathy said to Becky "How is being trans a 'trap'?"
"I don't know, some kind of ass-backward victim-shaming? When a 'straight' guy finds he's attracted to cute guys he beats them up and blames them to show how straight he is?" Becky answered.
I look horrified.
"Beaten up for being a girl?" I said.
"Yeah, guys beat up girls all the time to show how butch they are." Becky said.
"Not just trans girls, either." Cathy said.
"Not all guys, surely? Not even most guys? Surely it's just a few psychos?" I said.
"Most guys, if you push them far enough, resort to physical or emotional violence against women, I think." said Becky.
"Anyway, enough chat, back to work!" said Cathy, gesturing to the door.

-0-0-

The rest of the afternoon rolled by. Being dressed like I was starting to feel normal. No one made any comment about it. I guess after Cathy's pronouncement that morning, nobody dared to say anything.

It got to 5pm and the normal early birds started to leave. I went round to Cathy, got her attention and asked quietly, hoping no one would listen in to our conversation "So, what's the plan this evening, then".
"Oh, I forgot to call Becky!" Cathy replied "Hold on, let's call her now…"
She picked up her phone and started to dial.
"Becky? Are you still ok to drop Bobbi off at the hotel to collect her car?" Cathy said, then paused for the reply, "Great, we'll meet you down there at 5:30, thanks!"
Cathy listened to the reply, then she put the phone down and turned to me.
"Alright, Becky will give you a lift to the hotel, it's on the way for her because she normally takes the motorway… What are your plans? Are you going to pick up your stuff from the hotel? Didn't Jordan leave your shirt and trousers with Julie? Don't you need the solution for the glue, as well? Who are you going to get to help you?" Cathy asked.
I gaped for a moment, I hadn't really been thinking about what I would have to do, both to get home and after I got home.
"Err… I don't know… I hadn't really thought that far ahead… I was going to call Jordan and ask if she wanted to hang out this weekend and then try and make it back to guy-hood ready for Monday morning…" I said with an odd sinking feeling in the pot of my stomach.
"You don't want it to be over, do you?" Cathy asked, softly. She wasn't really asking the question, more stating the obvious fact.
"No… no, I don't. I know it's just a lark, but… something about this just feels… right, somehow. Like… I've never noticed before, but I was a girl all along… I can't explain it…" I said.
"I think you just did explain it." Cathy said simply, "I think you have a lot to think over this weekend, don't you?"
I just stared blankly for a moment. Was this what I wanted? What on Earth was I thinking? What could I do?

A Christmas Party - part 5


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi finds it's not so easy to give up being female and he gets to meet Jordan's father.

I convinced Cathy to come with Becky and me when Becky dropped me off to pick up my car.
We went into reception, looking for Julie, but we were told that she had gone for the weekend and wouldn't be back in work until Monday at 8:30am.

When we asked about my stuff; my trousers, the adhesive remover and my wallet, the staff behind the counter said that they knew nothing about it. They were quite unhelpful, I know they were busy, with other guests queuing behind us, but they seemed to be quite dismissive of my problems. I caught one of them giving the other one a meaningful glance, but I couldn't figure out what the meaning was meant to be. The message, whatever it was, was clearly not meant for me.

Our pleas to be given Julie's home number were met with a polite but firm 'No'. When we asked for Lucy it was clear that the lady in reception was beginning to become frustrated with us. Cathy asked if there was a more senior member of staff who might know more about Julie's prosthetics. We had to wait for a while while a middle-aged guy came out from the office in the back. We had to start again from the beginning and his eyes widened as he realised from our story who and what I was.

"I'm very sorry, my dear." he said in a profoundly patronising way, "But I cannot give personal contact details to anyone without their express permission. I can give you Mrs Price's work email address, and it is possible, but unlikely, that she will check it before Monday morning. I'm afraid I do not know this 'Lucy' lady, so I can't help you there. I don't know anything about the prosthetics you mentioned, I leave the organisation of those events to Mrs Price as, to be honest, I find the whole thing a little disturbing. I know it's the 21st century and all that but, no disrespect to you, young lady, I'm a little set in my ways and I find all that sort of thing a bit… weird."

He tailed off at the end and looked apologetic As he clearly realised how lame he sounded, under the circumstances.
We took the proffered email address and left my contact details with instructions that they could be passed to Julie or Lucy.

And that was that. I felt profoundly let down, but we thanked Mr Hall for taking the time to talk to us, then I dropped Cathy back home.

As I drove Cathy home I mentioned my suspicions that the reception staff had known exactly what was going on and had been deliberately unhelpful. Cathy agreed that it seemed that way to her, as well.

Cathy asked me to come in for a moment and she left me downstairs, with a cup of tea, watching the news while she went upstairs with Fiona. They came down after 30 minutes or so with a small case on wheels. It was acid pink.
"We thought we'd better put together a CARE package, to see you through the weekend." Cathy explained. Fiona lifted the case onto the table. Unzipped it and started to explain…
"There's a nighty and a sleep shirt, knickers, bra, makeup, toiletries, shoes, some clothes and a dress - oh, and another work outfit, for Monday, in case you still, you know…, need it."
"Hmm, I wonder how long until these things are stuck for good?" I wondered as I lifted my boobs slightly.
"We can get them seen to on Monday, I'm sure, if not sooner. You can't tell me they haven't started you seriously thinking about which team you will play for in future. I've seen how much more comfortable you have been today!" said Cathy.
"Was it so obvious?" I asked with a wry grin "I thought I hid my pain and humiliation very bravely!"
"Honestly, I will miss Bobbi if you decide not to go ahead with this… You've come out of your shell in a way I couldn't have imagined before. You're quite a girl, Bobbi Smith!" Cathy said.
I was starting to get a bit teary-eyed, so I hugged them both, thanked them for everything and said my goodbyes.
As I tottered down the path to my car pulling a pink overnight bag I wondered what on Earth I would do this weekend?

-0-0-

When I got home and parked in my usual parking space I suddenly thought how I would be exposing myself to ridicule. No one who had seen me before could fail to realise Bobbi was Bob. Then I shrugged to myself. No one on the estate had spoken to me since I moved in. I'm not sure anyone would recognise me as Bob or Bobbi, or care either way. My housemates were another matter but Andrea was away in London visiting her parents this weekend, Amy was always at her boyfriend's place and James… well, maybe I could avoid him if he stayed in his room?

I grabbed my case from the backseat and hurried into the house.

I got to the door and had a moment of panic when I realised my keys wouldn't be in my trouser pocket because I didn't have pockets, or trousers You could almost see the lightbulb over my head as I was struck by sudden inspiration to look in my handbag.
A few moments searching, following a familiar jingling noise, found my keys. A few more moments found me on the other side of the door, with my case, clicking the door home and shutting out the world.

"Click"

With that small sound I felt a measure of relaxation I hadn't felt since yesterday. There was also the smallest tinge of disappointment. This was the first time since yesterday evening that I had been on my own. I had spent a lot of time in my own company at university and since leaving and it had been a thrill to have people constantly just… around. I guess what I enjoyed was just hanging out with a bunch of people who were all cooler than me in some way. The way they all treated me like I was one of them, part of the gang.
Thirty seconds without that and I began to miss it.

Just then, my phone rang, it was Jordan.
"Hey girlfriend! How was your first day on the pink side?" she started.
"It was… good, really good" I said.
"Tell me all about it" Jordan said.
"Don't you want to come over?" I asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
"Hmmm" Jordan mused "Are you all alone and desperately horny because you've been flashing your knickers at all the boys like the naughty like girl you are?"
"Not exactly" I said "But I'm quite happy to flash my knickers at you if it will get you to come over and play with me… like the naughty girls we are?"
Jordan sniggered but she pulled herself together and went on "I don't think Daddy would like me going to a single guys bachelor pad and spending hours there, but I guess he wouldn't mind my new bezzy, Bobbi, coming for a sleepover?"
"He'll take one look at me and figure it out. If he doesn't figure it out on the spot then he will the moment he sees me out of drag."
"Then you'll just have to make sure he never sees you looking like a tomboy again."
"I was planning on going back to being a guy again this weekend, it's only because Julie wasn't there at the hotel that means I couldn't get the solvent for the adhesive…" I said.
"Well then, all the more reason for my girlfriend to come round, seeing as I won't be seeing her again after this weekend!" Jordan said with a strangely forced-sounding cheerfulness. I'm not saying it was feminine intuition kicking in, but I sensed something wasn't right.
"Ok, when you put it like that… I guess Bobbi is free this evening." I said "What's the dress code?"
"You can't be too overdressed or showing too much skin for me, sweety. Just be your charming self!" Jordan said.
"Give me half an hour to shower and put on a face and I'll be over. Er… what's your address?" I asked.
"I put it on your phone when I typed in my number this morning." Jordan said with a chuckle.
I checked the address, I didn't recognise it but it had a postcode and I had satnav on my phone, well Google maps, you know, like everyone else.
"Ok, I'm on my way!" I said with a smile.
"'urry to me, my sweet!" Jordan said in a bad French accent.

-0-0-

I left my eye makeup alone, removed the foundation from my face and put on a new coat of lipstick.
I chose a clubbing dress, I guess, from the stuff in the bag. I left my work clothes folded in the wash basket, repacked my bag with everything, checked myself in the mirror, brushed my hair and headed to the car. It took a little more than the half hour I had said but I was doing my best to hurry.

James never came out of his room, I could hear his games system with explosions in the background and James' cursing the other players, but I dodged the bullet of having to deal with him.

-0-0-

My phone took me to a leafy suburb of the town down to the end of a cul-de-sac. I couldn't see a house but there was a gate to a driveway. I drove down it as it was clear the other houses had numbers rather than names, I was looking for 'Green Farm House'. As I drove down the drive in the dark I was beginning to wonder if I had gotten hopelessly lost when I turned a corner and saw a large house, or several houses, perhaps, joined together. There were flood lights all around lighting up the driveway and the house. There was a kind of gravelled forecourt or courtyard, with a gated arch leading off behind the house. Possibly to some stables.

Wow.

I got the impression Jordan was not bothered with money worries but this was a little intimidating. I parked my crappy Citroen near what I thought might be the front entrance and got out. I retrieved my bag and made my way to the door.

There didn't seem to be any doorbell, so I knocked smartly on the door. Ratatatat.
I waited and there was no sign that anyone had heard me.

I was beginning to get a little irritated by now, they weren't going out of their way to be welcoming. I dug out my phone from my handbag (how have I managed without a handbag until now!) and rang Jordan.
She answered quickly…
"Hello sweetie!" she said.
"All this property and you can't afford a doorbell?" I asked.
"Oh! You're here already? Didn't you see the buzzer on the gate?"
"In the dark?"
"Oh, right… I'm on my way, keep talking, luvvergal!"
"What do you want me to say? It's a lovely place? Slightly smaller than Longleat but still imposing?"
"Hah! Longleat, nice one. I should get some tigers!"
"Please, tell me you're joking?"
"You're right, of course, the horses wouldn't like them, I guess."

I was floundering, a little. I knew Jordan was teasing me because I was overwhelmed by the wealth on display here, but I didn't know how to respond. It just highlighted how little I knew about Jordan's world and my place in it, if any. One thing that was very clear to me now was that she didn't have any need for a weedy nerd boyfriend. I'm guessing she had rich suitors lined up for days... and bad boy studs waiting in the wings, all stubbly and muscled, like Mark. I was feeling very insecure when she finally opened the door. I was looking at the floor and wondering what I was doing here, dressed this way and looking like this.

"Hmmm, aren't you just the yummiest little morsel!" Jordan declared with a predatory grin, making me shiver, nervously. It was strange, I felt reassured that she did want me here and more nervous about exactly what it was she wanted from me.

She pulled me inside and smooched the living daylights out of me. I was starting to suffer from lack of oxygen, I think, because I was feeling dizzy and I couldn't think straight, it almost felt like I was drunk. It was very wet and there was a lot of tongue action. It was so different from the shy kissing I had done with other girls. This almost felt like Jordan wanted to climb inside me. I didn't feel violated, exactly, but there was something primal in the way she took complete control of my body. I really liked letting her take charge.

When she finally let me draw breath she dragged me to a mirror and hissed "You naughty girl, now you messed up your makeup, and mine! Here l, let me help you…"
She proceeded to wipe my face clean and reapply lipstick with a lipstick that matched hers. Then she quickly did her lips to.
"Now no one will be any the wiser, if we kiss carefully" she said in a stage whisper.
"And how much 'careful' kissing were you planning on?" I asked.
"Good point, let's have dinner with my Dad first, before we try that again?" she said, as she led me deeper into the house.

The house seemed huge to me, and we passed several doors and a staircase in a hall with an honest to goodness chandelier in it before we got to a large kitchen. There was an Aga oven at one end loads of cupboards, granite work surfaces and, at the other end a large, very solidly built, wooden table. Probably it was oak.

At the table sat a man who could only be Jordan's Father. He was a tall, good looking man, with dark hair greying at the temples and horn-rimmed glasses. He looked very distinguished and quite intimidating. He didn't look angry or anything, he just looked… hmm, I'm searching for a word to sum up the quality he seemed to project. 'Competent', that's as close as I can get. He looked like he was ready and able to do anything he set his mind to.
Jordan brought me up to him and introduced me.

"Daddy, this is Bobbie, I met her at the party last night and we got on like a house on fire. Her friends were very kind and gave me a place to stay last night and I'm going to return the favour after we go out tonight." she said.
"Maybe she will be a calming influence on you. I can't understand why you have to go out tonight as well." he said with a rueful smile.
"Err… I didn't realize we were going out tonight?" I said.
"Oh, just into town - there's a Christmas thing at Ococo's. Don't worry, I can lend you some stuff to wear." Jordan said.
"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" Jordan's Father said.

Jordan and her Father dished up Chicken and rice and vegetables with a delicious smelling gravy. I offered to help but they sat me down at the table.
Jordan’s Father sat at the head of the table and Jordan sat opposite me on his right hand. It all seemed a little ritualistic somehow.

Jordan’s Father introduced himself as James Carr.
“Carr? Seriously?” I asked.
“I know, it’s why I didn’t tell you my last name.” Jordan said.
I hadn’t even realised until that moment that she’d never mentioned her last name.
“Bobbie, Bobbie Smith” I said with a smile.
There was a little small talk then, I’m not great with small talk at the best of times and James was so imposing and Jordan was so naughty I was getting a little flustered. Every time James got up to get some wine or looked away for whatever reason Jordan would do something to wind me up. I found her foot in my crotch at one point and her feet proved to be incredibly dextrous. Of course, wearing a short skirt as I was, there wasn’t that much challenge with regard to access to my nether regions but she must have prehensile toes or something. Above the surface of the table she was all innocence; “daddy” this and “daddy” that. But when he wasn’t looking she looked at me in a way that challenged me, disturbed me and turned me on in equal measure. She was the archetypal wild child incarnate.

After dinner I offered to wash up and James chuckled - “It’s fine, we have a dish washer and Maria will load them in the morning. Just leave the plates by the sink. I’m going to my office and leave you girls to it. Don’t forget your key Jordan and try to be in by 1am at the very latest. It was lovely to meet you, Bobbie, don’t let Jordan be too bad an influence on you (I’m not blind to your many flaws and charms, young lady!)”
The last he directed to Jordan who looked at him in mock innocence, trying to hold a straight face as she tried to mime ‘who, me?’

A Christmas Party - part 6


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi spends time with Jordan.

Christmas party 6

After dinner Jordan led me through the house to her bedroom. The place was a labyrinth and I'm sure she doubled back on herself and took me through rooms we didn't have to go through because there's no way even a big house like hers would require you to walk for that long to get from one side to the other. I think she was showing off.

Once we were far enough away from the kitchen that her dad wouldn't hear us and wouldn't be likely to bump into us she turned around, grabbed me and proceeded to absolutely snog the face off me.
I made a weird squeak when she grabbed me, because she did it without any warning whatsoever. By the time she let me go I was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily with a bemused smile on my face. Whatever else you might say about Jordan she was sexy as hell and she knew how to push all my buttons to leave me a squidgy wreck.

Part of her unique power over me was how she completely assumed the dominant role. Dominant role seemed so incongruous when I thought about standing up to Jordan. Why would I want to and what would it achieve? She was like a force of nature, a very sexy force of nature, but one that was absolutely unstoppable. I pity the fool that stood in her way!

But, that unstoppable nature left me with an issue, if I let it. She had all the power, all the money and to be honest, most of the drive.I’m pretty sure that she was a little older than me. Even if she wasn’t older in years she was clearly older in experience. More widely travelled, better dressed, more self-assured.
I had seen a lesbian t-shirt before (how sad am I? I’m taking relationship advice from a t-shirt!) to the effect that “People ask me who is ‘the girl’ in the relationship, I tell them ‘we both are, that’s the point”. Which made sense...except… in our relationship, it was quickly becoming apparent that I was the girl. I’m not sure whether that made Jordan ‘the man’. If she was ‘the man’ then she was a damn sexy one!

Jordan went straight to her closet and got out two outfits. They were red and shiny with white fur. They looked like a 'sexy Santa' or Christmas elf costume, except for the fact that they were shiny vinyl, that looked a little like red patent leather.
Jordan got me stripped naked in less time than it takes to tell and she handed me white stockings and a suspender belt and a white lace bra and panties set.
I still had my spanx on underneath. She helped me get the stockings and belt on, then she left me to dress myself. She busied getting herself dressed, her stockings and lingerie were bright red.
The dress was lined with fabric, but it was quite coarse and the dress was a little tight and kind of crinkled as I moved. It wasn't as comfortable as the dress I had arrived in, but I could see Jordan was set on going as a pair.

"These dresses aren't very comfy…" I mentioned to Jordan.
"I know" she said with a sigh "but the plastic will warm up and get more flexible, especially when we start dancing, and it looks amazing on you!"

Jordan certainly knew how to talk me into things. I would have done almost anything to cause her to smile like that. Her smile was joyous and wild.

Jordan handed me a handbag that jangled and grabbed another one for herself and grabbed a few things and shoved them in her bag. She moved so quickly that I couldn't keep track of what she took. Then she took two coats from her wardrobe (she had a walk-in wardrobe off her main bedroom, it was amazing). They seemed to be made out of fake fur, one was short and one was long, she gave me the long one and ushered us downstairs and out the back of the house by the stables. It was dark outside the backdoor but lights came on automatically as we went out and Jordan locked the door behind us.

She led me to an expensive looking dark car and opened the passenger door for me before going round to the driver's door to get in herself.
The seats were dark leather and the car smelled new. Inside it seemed enormous and it felt like Jordan was sat metres away from me. She pushed a button and the dashboard lit up with a large screen in the centre of the console I clicked in my seatbelt as she did. She looked across at me in the light of the dashboard and the outside lights and grinned.

The car started moving with no engine noise.

"It's a hybrid" Jordan said by way of explanation.

I have no idea where we went, it was down dark roads late at night. Jordan clearly knew the way, she didn't bother with satnav that would have given me a clue.
She played an interesting and eclectic range of music. Billy Eilish, some opera, Queen, Macklemore and Lady Gaga I recognised. There was some Kpop that I didn't know. The display said it was "BlackPink".

Jordan told me how pretty I was. I told her how freaking hot she was.

Jordan said "This is a different crowd than I think you're used to. Don't worry, I will look out for you. You'll be quite safe". She smiled then, in a way that was not entirely reassuring.
I was pretty sure I could hold my own wherever Jordan could. It's not like I was going to get raped through my spanx and I might be small but I was fit and feisty. But I was intrigued.

We went down a long gravel drive with passing places and speedbumps and we ended up driving behind a building that looked like a stately home. There were several expensive looking cars parked in a kind of courtyard behind and some buildings that looked like a cross between barns, stables and industrial units. They were too big to be stables, too small to be barns and too, nice? rural seeming? whatever, to be industrial units. Jordan parked up and came around to help me out of the car.

She helped me straighten my outfit once I was stood up and handed me a Santa hat and a white lacy mask. She put on a hat and a red lacy mask, then she took a pair of white fur covered handcuffs from her purse and slipped them on me. I was so gobsmacked I just stuck my arm and let her. She led me to a door that had a little window in it. She glanced through the window and led me inside. There was a huge black guy in a cream suit standing inside the door and a gorgeous girl in a dress with a bodice and a lot of cleavage on show behind a reception desk, her makeup was dramatic, exotic and exquisite.

"Hi Dave! I've bought some fresh blood tonight" Jordan said and jangled my wrist in the cuffs at the guy.
"Jordan, isn't it?" he asked, "don't forget to slip off your mask for the entrance cameras, please".
"No problem, we have to leave our coats anyway" Jordan said.

She led me to the woman and flashed a credit card at her. The woman gave us two tickets, which Jordan stashed in her purse, and took our coats. This involved us having to take off the cuffs (there was some kind of hidden catch, Jordan knew how to work it, but I wasn't sure what she did) and slipping our masks up our faces as Jordan pointed out the camera behind the desk.

Jordan slipped the cuffs back on as the woman asked "Is she of age?"
It struck me as a bizarrely antiquated way to put it. Jordan fished in my purse and showed her my driving licence.
The woman looked at the licence and looked at me, squinting slightly. Her eyes suddenly widened and she smiled slightly.
"Miss, your photo does not do you justice" she said "welcome, to The Club".

I swear she said the last two words with clearly audible capitalisation. She pressed a button and two doors opposite the desk swung open. We could hear music all the while we were in the entrance but when the doors opened we could feel it, loud and rhythmic with lots of bass.

Jordan grinned and dragged me inside.

A Christmas Party - part 7


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi's night out with Jordan doesn't go as planned...

Christmas Party 7

As Jordan led me into the darkened room I could make out dimly lit figures at tables around the outside, a large dancefloor in the middle with a small stage or raised area off it with a DJ's booth and a bar along the far wall.

It all looked like a fairly normal club, with loud music and a dazzling light show. But as my eyes got used to the gloom I realised that we might be two of the most conservatively dressed people in the room. There were goths, people in various forms of fetishwear, latex dresses (some worn by men) and some who were very scantily dressed.

Jordan wrapped herself around me and nuzzling into my ear (which might have been the only way to be heard over the music) said "Don't stare, dear. It's rude!"
"Rude?" I muttered to myself, sure that even Jordan wouldn't be able to hear me "There's a guy there wearing a red leather cod piece, dog collar, a smile and ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE… and I'm the rude one."
I slid up against Jordan and said in her ear "The way these people have gone out of their way to shock me, surely it would be rude NOT to stare!"
Jordan nodded and said "Now you're getting it!, but be discrete. Pretend you're bored with it all".
“Riight” I muttered to myself.

I kind of felt like Jordan had brought me into a shark pool and all the freaks were going to be circling for a scent of new blood. But, for all I looked like the innocent here, wasn’t I at least as perverse in my choice of outfit?

I tried to relax and imagine that my secret was bigger than theirs, and hence harder to perceive. If I bumped into my bank manager (who knows their bank manager, these days, but even so) if I bumped into any bank manager dressed as a goth or whatever and I recognised them, they could be sure that I wouldn’t out them because, frankly, my secret was more…

Hmm, what was my secret? I wasn’t ashamed to be a girl. My workmates all knew how I was likely to be dressed and most of them had actively encouraged me (except for Joyce, and I didn’t really care what she thought). Did I care what my mother thought? Well, yes, of course. But I didn’t expect her to be disgusted by me, maybe slightly surprised and bemused. I think what would hurt, would be that she didn’t know first. Maybe she did? Parents often claim to have insight into their kids before their kids know themselves. But I was pretty sure that my Mum would be surprised if she could see me like this.

So...not much of a secret, really. Maybe my bank manager should be more worried I’d rat him out?
I sniggered to myself as I thought about bumping into someone like that.

Jordan dragged me deeper into the room, and I had little choice but to follow, because I was handcuffed to her. She was, apparently, looking for someone.

"Hortensia!" she shouted out and dragged me towards a stunning Asian woman in a red dress that was...pretty much backless, middleless and bottomless. The breasts were covered, although her navel, neck, and everything between were not. To call the dress short was doing it a disservice. It felt like there should be a stronger word for a dress that was so short that it showed that she was wearing tights rather than stockings.

"Mai Lee!" the Asian girl shouted as she ran to Jordan and hugged her.

Jordan flung her arms around the girl. Because I was handcuffed to her that meant one of my arms also went round her at an awkward angle. I teetered on my high heels and tried to look bored. I don't think it worked… 'Hortensia' was exquisite, like a China doll, if a China doll had the sex appeal and dress sense of a porn star.
She took a step back and looked me up and down. I was clearly out of place and a single querying glance at Jordan was all she needed to say.

"This is Bobbi, my girlfriend" Jordan said with a grin "Bobbi, this is Amy, I've known her since school".
Amy looked puzzled as she said "Not to be blunt, dear, but I was pretty sure you were straighter than me!"
"Well, a girl can change her mind, and Bobbi is very special!" said Jordan as she winked at me.
"Special, eh?" said Amy, clearly trying to figure out anything that marked me out of the ordinary.
"The only really special thing about me is my girlfriend" I said and directed a look of pure devotion at Jordan… who ruined the moment by miming throwing up. Amy barked out a laugh.
"Oh yeah, now I see it!" she said "special indeed!"
We all laughed together.

A guy who looked like a leather-clad male stripper wandered over and put one arm around Amy as if he was claiming her.

"This eye candy is my boy toy, Michael" said Amy "not too smart, and the morals of an alley cat… but look at those abs!"
Michael lifted his shirt and ran his hand over a belly that looked like a washboard.
"Yep, that's me!" he agreed aimiably.
Jordan looked at Amy and asked "May we?"
Amy said "Sure…"

Jordan reached out and ran her hand down his front, across his rippled muscles, below his belt and towards his crotch.
She used the hand that I was cuffed too, so I mirrored her move with my hand, I was a few inches behind her, so as she cupped his leather-clad balls my hand was resting on his crotch as it suddenly lurched into an impressive erection.

"Damn" said Michael as he moved Amy in front of him to cover his bulge "you lesbians are all prick teases!"

I was glad the lace masks we wore covered some of my blushes.

Amy led us back to a table in the corner where there were a few more women and a couple of guys. None of them were quite as exotic as Amy and Michael, I think, but my recollection starts to get a little hazy from about that point.

We had some drinks, Jordan drank her diet coke from the bottle as she complained that she had to drive and I had Malibu and coke in a glass. We danced, we danced a lot. Jordan ground her body against me like demented succubus and I responded as best I could.

Which was apparently good enough to get a fair bit of attention, even from this crowd.

We would head back to our table from time to time and I would sip my drink. The drink never seemed to go down, though, and after the third trip back to the table I don't remember much…

-0-0-

"Wake up! Wake up, Bobbi! Oh Jesus, how am I going to get you… Hey! Hey you! Can you help me? Please?! My friend was drugged and I can't get her into the hospital".

The voice was Jordan's, I think. I don't think it was directed at me.

I wasn't sure though, because I was very sleepy. All her yelling was enough to keep anyone awake and….whoops! That was interesting, I felt like I was flying. Whee!
Flying in the arms of Superman. Two strong arms around me, lifting me easily out of the car and carrying me…

Where were they carrying me?

I prised one eyelid open to peer around. Huh. It looked like a hospital. What are we doing here? Was someone ill? Did someone drink too much? Maybe...maybe I drank too much? That didn't feel right. I don't remember drinking much. And I don't feel drunk. I feel… so sleepy.

-0-0-

I woke up on an A&E trolley bed, with green curtains all the way around and Jordan sat next to me.

Jordan's eyes were closed. From the state of her makeup she looked as though she'd been crying.

"J-jordan" I said. Or tried to say. My mouth felt dry and furry.

Jordan jolted awake.

"Oh, Bobbi, I'm so sorry" she said.
"Th-thirsty" I croaked.
"Oh, right… hang on" she said. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a beaker of water. I sipped it gratefully.

"What happened?" I asked simply.

Jordan looked awkward.

"I think someone tried to 'rufi' you. I don't know what they thought would happen, you were chained to me after all and I wouldn't have left you for a moment!" she said.
"I'm glad" I started to say, just as a medic came through the curtain.
"Huh?" she said "what are you glad about?"
" I'm glad Jordan didn't leave my side" I said "she stuck with me like we were handcuffed to each other!"
"Oh, I see. Yes, I would be glad of a friend like that in your situation!" the medic said, she turned to Jordan "your friend was lucky you realised what was going on. You girls are so vulnerable these days. You have to look out for each other."
"What did go on?" I asked "I've just woken up and I'm a little fuzzy in the details".
"Someone slipped some drug into your drink, we think" the medic said "I've taken some blood samples. If you want to make a complaint I can make the details available to the police. Your girlfriend agreed that we should go ahead, it can be time critical with some drugs, they metabolise very quickly and are not detectable even a day later".
"Well, ok. I'm not sure who we would make a complaint against. I'm pretty sure the club doesn't routinely dope it's drinks…" I said.
"It was Michael" Jordan said in a strange tone.

She seemed almost completely emotionless, which wasn't like her at all. I guessed that she had gone through the realms of white-hot fury into the realms of some kind of cold black rage. It was disturbing, on one level, but strangely gratifying that she valued me so much in such a short period of time that she would get so upset about me.

"How can you be so sure it was him?" I asked.
"I don't trust anyone round our drinks and I watched our table, he was the only guy who went near our end of the table" Jordan said.
"It wasn't a girl?" I asked.
"Why would a girl…" Jordan looked puzzled.
"What, lesbians are above such things?" I asked.
"Oh" Jordan said "I hadn't considered that angle. Maybe you are right". She got a calculating look in her eyes as she considered this new factor.
"So...am I free to go?" I asked in as nonchalant a voice as I could manage. I was acutely aware that there were questions about my anatomy that I didn't want asked, let alone have to answer, while I was lying in A&E in a skimpy vinyl santa dress.
The medic turned to Jordan and asked "Is she staying with you tonight? Will you be ok to watch her?"
"Huh? Oh, sure. I've not had a drink, because I'm driving. She'll be fine with me, we were planning a sleepover anyway" Jordan replied.

-0-0-

Jordan helped me to the car. My memory is full of holes and I don't remember much about the journey home. I was… I'm not sure how to describe it… kind of lost. I was very suggestible.

I'm not sure if it was the drugs or just how I felt about Jordan but I found myself following her slightest suggestion without a murmer. I'm pretty sure I said "Yes mistress" at least once. The look on her face was weirdly conflicted.

We ended up in bed together. No, not like that. Jordan got me cleaned up and dressed in one of her nighties. She was dressed in a scandalous scrap of black lace that revealed more than it covered.
She said "I was going to rock your world tonight, I had your seduction all planned… but it would feel weird to 'take advantage of you' after you've been rufi'd, even if it wasn't me who did it".

I must have looked crestfallen, but I didn't complain and I forgot about it as we climbed into bed. Jordan sat up and cradled my head in her lap and she stroked my hair as I fell asleep…

-0-0-

I woke the next morning naked except for a tiny pair of lacy knickers, tangled up with Jordan with her hand cupping my crotch and mine between her warm breasts, slipped up under her nighty.

As I came awake and realised our position I wondered what I had done to get so lucky as to spend time with this extraordinary woman. As I stared at her, trying to commit this moment to memory she simply opened her eyes. I felt shy suddenly realising that I had been staring at her while feeling her warm, soft breast under my hands. She slid one hand between my legs and another around my shoulder and pulled me close to her with tender intimacy.

"I love the way you look at me, like I'm the last chocolate in the box and you're not sure if you're allowed to have me although you want to rip my wrapper off and swallow me whole!" Jordan said, her voice slightly husky and slightly breathy as she hadn't woken up properly yet.
"Thank you for looking after me last night, I'm so sorry it put a damper on the evening" I said, holding her gently as she squashed my hand between her breasts.
"Ah, I felt more than a little responsible. I'm guessing you don't go clubbing much?" Jordan said.
"Ha, not to clubs like that!" I said.

"Ok", said Jordan with a sudden change of mood, "what shall we do this weekend? What would you like to do?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at me.
"Get my eyebrows trimmed?", I said, deliberately guessing wrong for comic effect. Jordan face-palmed, with a groan.
"Seriously, though, I need to see my Mum before I go much further down this road… I'd really appreciate it if you came with me, as my girlfriend. Would that be too weird?" I said.
"My Dad has already met you" Jordan said.
"But he doesn't know we're a couple?" I asked.
"No… not exactly…" Jordan said.
I looked at her silently questioning.
"I'm really bad at keeping secrets from him. I'm sure he guessed I was bi before I did. I think it's obvious to anyone who knows me how I feel about you!" Jordan said.
"It's not obvious to me how you feel, I just know how you make me feel!" I said.
"Oh? How is that, exactly?" Jordan said with a mischievous grin, her hand was still between my legs, clutching my bum to her and her wrist was against my crotch.
"Oh my!" I said.

Jordan slithered out of our embrace, slid on top of me and grabbed each of my wrists. She pinned me down and started kissing me.
I not sure exactly what she did, or what I did. I think I passed out through lack of oxygen at one point.

By the time we finished making out, our clothes were dishevelled and our hair was a mess.

Thankfully we weren't wearing makeup. I say 'clothes', I was only wearing a pair of knickers and my stuck on chest enhancers. My knickers were so twisted around they were practically on sideways. Jordan's knickers were in a similar state to mine and one strap of her nighty was down with one breast hanging out and the rest was twisted like we'd been wrestling, or something.

"Breakfast?" Jordan asked.
My stomach growled.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'!" she said.
"I think that was a 'hell, yes!'" I said "what do you have?"
"Everything" Jordan said simply.
"Shall I make us pancakes?" I asked.
"You? You can cook pancakes?" Jordan asked. She looked baffled. "All this?" she said as she gestured at my body "and she cooks too? You are going to make someone a fabulous wife!"
"If you give me the bits, and an instruction manual!" I quipped.
"Huh?" Jordan looked confused.
"Well, I'm a bit of a Frankenstein's monster, but I'm trying to make myself into the perfect girlfriend for you!" I said.
"Oh!" Jordan said as her eyes misted up "You are just too perfect already!"

A Christmas Party - part 8


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi and Jordan meet Bobbi's Mum. Bobbi makes some decisions and learns some things.

This is the final part, for now. It's not the end of Bobbi's story, I think, but it's a good point to draw a line under things.

Christmas Party 8

Jordan loved my pancakes.

After breakfast we went back to her room and she started going through her massive closet to find 'the perfect ultra-feminine classy winter outfit'. I had visions of Jordan using me as a life-size Barbie doll, but she had a few ideas, she held up a couple of items against me and she decided quickly on a divine cream sweater dress with a cowl neck. She gave me a white lacy bodysuit, slip and grey opaque tights to wear under it. It draped around my body and showed my shape (enhanced by my prosthetics) to be very feminine. It wasn't really tight, but it was definitely form-fitting. She gave me dark-grey suede boots that zipped up the side and came above my knee.

As I was getting dressed she started putting together an outfit for herself. Black underwear, and tights, slip, black pencil skirt, gold silk blouse, black jacket and high-heeled shoes.

She handed me a metal disk on a necklace that looked like a small satellite dish to me, a watch, some bangles and a wool coat. She found herself a red wool coat and some sunglasses.
Jordan helped me with my makeup, she made it look very natural while emphasising all my girliest features, my eyes looked huge, my lashes were long, my lips were moist and dewey. I looked… like a very pretty young woman.

Jordan looked like a young professional, straight from some law firm or merchant bank. She looked intimidating and slightly haughty.
"I look like your ward!" I said, laughing.
"I don't look like your domme, in mufti?" Jordan said with a pout.
"You look…" I started, trying to figure out how to describe how she looked "You look very adult".
Jordan snorted and stuck her tongue out at me.
Jordan wanted to go in her car but I insisted on taking mine.
"At least she might recognise the car, even if she doesn't recognise me!" I said.
Jordan laughed.
"You have a point! I know it's a cliché, but I don't see how your mother could recognise you." she said. She looked concerned for a moment and continued, "Er, she doesn't have a heart condition or anything?"
I stopped and thought for a moment.
"She's never shown any sign of anything like that...We'll have to play it by ear. If the worst happens the hospital is nearby and we call for an ambulance. I think I can do CPR until they arrive" I said.
"Shit, I was kind of joking at first, but now you are making me worried. How are you going to break it to her?" Jordan asked.
"Well, you could introduce yourself to her as my girlfriend and then when she tries to figure out who I am, I could explain?" I said.
"That sounds ridiculously lame and pointless. Couldn't you just make a joke of it?" Jordan asked.
"Hi Mom, tell me, did you _want_ to try swapping a daughter for your son?" I said.
"So, 'hi Mum, there's something we should talk about' wouldn't be a good way to start?" Jordan asked.
"That's only funny if we just ignore me dressing as a woman" I said.
"I wasn't really going for comedy gold, but that would make a great sitcom sketch. Not so good if it's real life?" Jordan said.
"You're right, of course. I'll just jump right in there. If she loves me then it will be fine. What parent rejects their child just before Christmas?" I said.

I gathered my things, made sure my case was packed, then we made our way out to my car and got in. I started up and drove down the drive, deep in thought. Jordan watched me with a serious and supportive look on her face. As we drove, I was struck by a sudden thought. There was a question I hadn't been able to ask last night in the Club with all the noise and the dancing…
"Why 'Hortensia' and 'Mai Lee'?" I asked.
Jordan did a double-take. "Well, that came out of the blue!" she said "Hmm, we were messing with this guy we met, we said our names were 'Hortensia' and 'Mai Lee', so, of course, he thought I must be Hortensia and Amy was Mai Lee, racist pig. Anyway, we tried to mess with him by insisting that it was the other way around… It didn't really work though, he was too pig-headed to realise he was being pranked. He kept calling me 'Hor' or 'Whore' all night and he called Amy 'Mine' or 'my Lee'".
"I cannot imagine you putting up with that shit for long!" I said.
"I was younger then… but, no. We were both underage, we took selfies with him drinking with us, with his filthy hands all over us, then we convinced him we were going to take them to the police" she said.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Oh, he laughed it off. Made us feel like stupid little girls, and he went on his merry way. We thought we were being so clever. But he knew our fathers and he knew he could get us into more trouble than we could make for him" Jordan said sadly "We claimed the names as a reminder never to let some guy make us feel that way again".
"Does that work?" I asked.
"Not really, I think it's just one of those things we do now. It's lost its original meaning and we just do it for something to do now" Jordan said.
"Did you take any pictures last night?" I asked.
"Huh?" Jordan said.
"I know you like to take pictures on your phone, maybe you caught someone in the background, spiking my drink?" I said.
"I took a few, I guess. Amy may have some more and the Club has security cameras, I think. I'll call them after we see your Mum. That's a good thought. Thank you. It's going to bug me until I know for sure who the scumbag is and we can do something about it." Jordan said.

We were coming close to my Mum's house. It was in a village outside Taunton called Creech St Michael. Parking was a nightmare, like always. The houses either side of my Mum's were looking more run down. I felt like Jordan would be judging me for where I came from.
I looked round at her and she just looked supportive. She was there for me and the fact that my Mum lived on a shitty estate instead of in a palace didn't phase her.

I turned off the engine and took a deep breath. I was sure everything would be ok, eventually, but I wasn't looking forward to the moment I introduced myself for the first time. I guess it was better to just get it over with, like ripping off a plaster.

Jordan came round to my side of the car and helped me out. She let me lead her to the door and stood a step behind me as I tapped on the door. The doorbell never seemed to work, so I didn't bother with it.

A shape appeared behind the frosted glass in the front door.
"Yes?" I heard my Mum's voice "Who is it? What do you want?"
"It's me Mum. It's Bobby, can you let us in?" I said. I was trying to talk in my normal voice and it sounded weird to me now. I must have been subconsciously copying the voices and speech patterns of all the women around me.
"Bobby?" Mum said, she sounded confused but she was unlocking the door. She peered out, trying to look behind me. She said "Where are you? And who are these girls?"
"Well, one of them is me!" I said, Mum looked shocked,"and the other one is my girlfriend, Jordan." I continued.
"What the hell have you done this time?!" Mum asked.
"Well, that's a long story...Can we come in?" I asked.
"Why didn't you ring and say you were coming?" Mum asked. She made no move to let us in.
"Well, this was all fairly sudden and I didn't know how to have this conversation on the phone" I said, in as reasonable a tone as I could manage.

Mum seemed to come to a decision and stepped back to let us in. I came in and stood in the middle of the living room. Mum stared at Jordan as she came in and shut the door behind her.

"Who's this?" Mum said, nodding at Jordan.
"Mum, this is Jordan, my girlfriend" I said. Jordan smiled brightly as I said this.
"Girlfriend? So you're not gay then? So… why are you dressed like that? What does she make of this?" Mum looked at Jordan.
"I really love how Bobbi looks, isn't she gorgeous?" Jordan said.
"So… you're a lesbian then? And Bob is dressed like that to turn you on because he thinks you are all that?" Mum asked.
"Mum, you're being rude!" I said.
"I don't think the world is actually that black and white, I know it isn't for Bobbi and me!" Jordan said.
"But he does turn you on? Like that?" Mum said.
"Mum!" I said in a warning tone.
"Let's see if I can give you a visual aid to understand this…" Jordan said, as she stalked over to me and swooped me into a lip-searing kiss…
"Ok, you've made your point, you can leave now!" Mum said after my senses had recovered and she had picked her jaw up off the floor.
"C'mon Bobbi!" Jordan said cheerfully "Lovely to meet you, Mrs Smith!"
Jordan led me out of the house and over to my car. She led me to the passenger side, took my keys from my numb fingers and opened the door for me. I got in, in a bit of a daze.
Jordan hurried round to the driver's side and fumbled to get the keys in the ignition. She started the car, gave a cheery wave to my Mum, gaping on the doorstep, and we were off.

"Phew! That was intense!" Jordan said.
"Yes. I'm not clear what just happened" I said.
"Did I kiss you too hard, dear?" Jordan said "I think it was fairly clear, your Mum was being a bitch to me and, indirectly, to you. I guess she hasn't had to deal with too many 'pan-sexuals'".
"Pan-sexual?" I asked.
"Yeah, when you love the person regardless of their gender" Jordan said.
"Oh, ok. That's what pan-sexual is? I've not really used that term before" I said.
"Ha, clearly your Mother hasn't come across it either, other than a form of insult" Jordan said "I'm sorry if I made things awkward for you…"
"No." I said, firmly "No, you were right, Mum was being a bitch to you and she had no right. I'm sure that it was a bit odd for her seeing me like this and she had lots of questions. But that ill-tempered interrogation was no way to treat my girlfriend."
"That's my girl, I love it when you stand up for me!" Jordan said with a smile.
I smiled back.
"It's not as though I live at my Mum's anymore" I said.
"Do you want to come stay with me for a while?" Jordan asked.
"Well, no offence Jordan, but I'm not up for your level of 'party animal' on a regular basis!" I said.
"Pah! As if I am either. It wasn't a 'school night' last night and we're both adults. Ok, let's have a quiet night in tonight. I would invite Amy round, but I'm still mad at Michael, and I don't need another fight tonight. How about just you and me and making out on the rug in front of the fire?" said Jordan.
"That sounds… really nice" I admitted.

-0-0-

Jordan drove my car better than I did. I guess working for a dealership meant she got to drive a lot of different cars. When we got back to her place she parked in the stable area behind the house, in a covered area with a couple of other cars. Jordan came round to help me get out of the car then helped retrieve my case from the boot. It felt very different, walking in the back of Jordan's house in the daylight with my outfit and handbag while Jordan pulled my case behind her, than it had when I arrived here last night. It already felt more like a sanctuary from the craziness of the world.

Jordan told me to drop my case off in her room and she would make us some coffee. I left her fussing with her fancy coffee machine and I went searching for her room. I tried to backtrack the route that we had taken when we left this morning and it seemed to take me much less time than it had when Jordan led me to her room for the first time. Leading me to believe that she was showing off in a bizarre way last night.

I put my case on the second bed in Jordan's room and hung up the coat Jordan had lent me. I put my handbag on the bed next to the case and sat down by it, trying to think what to do next. I'd kind of been moving forward without thinking since the night of the party. But now, as my Mum's words sank in… I was struck by the thought that I may be burning some bridges.
Maybe it was time to take stock and decide what I felt, what I wanted to do with my life?

My old life, before dresses, seemed dull and cold. The last couple of days seemed so much more vivid. I had made connections with people that I never would have spoken with before.

But, my relationship with my Mum had been the cornerstone of my life. Mum had left Dad when I was too young to remember them ever being together. He kept in touch for birthdays and Christmas, but Mum always kept him at arm's length. I think she had screwed him on the divorce and child support because he always seemed to be poor despite working hard in IT in Bristol.

We always seemed to be poor, as well. Which made me wonder where all the money went?
Mum didn't work full time, there was some limit of 21 hours or something, but I was grown and left home now, and I'd been pretty independent since I was 11. So I guess it was laziness on her part. I was really troubled by how heartless she had been. That betrayal cut like a knife and made me question everything she'd ever told me. Maybe Dad wasn't such a bad guy? Maybe I'd looked after her when I was growing up, rather than the other way around. Maybe… maybe I didn't need her, or her approval.

Finding new strength in that thought I sat up straighter and checked my makeup with a compact mirror from my handbag. If I was going to be a girl, I would decide what kind of well presented, successful, savvy woman I would be. I could use Jordan and Cathy as my role models.

Jordan appeared at the door with a tray with an insulated jug of coffee, mugs, cream and biscotti. She set down the tray on her dressing table and came to hug me.

"I'm sorry if I seemed to be rude to your Mother" she said.
I scoffed.
"She started it!" I said "I don't need her approval, and I don't like her being so rude to me or my friends!"
Jordan's eyebrow raised at this statement.
I went on, "and I positively draw the line at her being rude to you, my love!"
Jordan's expression softened and she smiled broadly as she bent down to kiss me.

We ended up on the bed, snogging and groping as the coffee got cold.

After a while, Jordan suggested we dress up. With her father out of the house for the evening she wanted to cheer me up.

We went through her extensive collection of lingerie and she picked items for us each to wear. She sent me off to have a shower and shave all over. She didn't join me, I wasn't sure where she went and I was a little disappointed not to be sharing the shower with her.

When I came out she was waiting and she slipped into the shower. She was very quick and I was still drying myself when she came out with a towel wrapped round her.

She sat me at the dressing table and blow dried my hair and started to do my makeup and hair. I relaxed and enjoyed the pampering of having this gorgeous woman use me like her very own Barbie doll. By the time she had finished, I looked like… well, it was like someone's little sister after the experienced older sister had painted her to be pimped out to the Prince.

Jordan handed me a underwired half corset thing in black lace and satin that gave me cleavage but didn't come down to my belly button, it had suspender stays that came down to hold up stockings. She gave me a black thong that went on over my spanx and black shoes with a such a high heel that I was sure I would fall flat on my face.
"I don't think I'll be able to walk anywhere in those…" I said ruefully.
Jordan chuckled. "These aren't for walking, these are for lying on your back with your knees by your ears!" she said.

She helped me slide a pair of black satin opera gloves on, then she had me stand in front of her full length mirror. I thought it would be a bit over the top, more 'Rocky Horror Picture Show' than sexy. But when I looked at myself I found I looked damn hot. Yes, I looked like a teenager pretending to be a porn star, but in a good way. It was fun, and a little naughty.

Jordan dabbed a little perfume in me, including behind the knees, no idea why. Then she had me put on the long faux-fur coat I wore last night and told me to go into the drawing room where the fire was and wait for her.
I tried to slink away with gently swaying hips, but it was more of a mince and a near miss at twisting my ankle.

I got a little more proficient at walking as I made my way downstairs, hanging onto the handrail as if my life depended on it.

When I found the room with the fire, I found Jordan had already lit it and it was going nicely. It gave a slightly decadent air to a room that was already imposing with several large leather sofas and bookcases.

Jordan had also laid a grey faux-fur blanket over the rug in front of the fireplace and there was a large leather bag, like an old doctors case, near the rug.

I sat on a sofa facing one of the two doors into the room, the one I had entered by.
I hugged the fake fur coat around myself and took stock of where I was.

I was dressed and looked like a sexy young woman, and I was waiting to be seduced by an older, sexier, realer woman.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Jordan had spent so long dressing me that I was sure she would be annoyed if I disrobed in any way. I felt like masturbating, to ensure my penis was as big as possible, so I didn't embarrass myself. There's nothing more humiliating for a man than failing to achieve a satisfactory erection, when the occasion called for it. Or having an enormous bulge when it didn't.
But, I wasn't sure Jordan wanted to see me with an erection.

So… what did she want to see? Me, draped in fur, lying spreadeagled in her lingerie on a rug in front of the fire?

What was I doing here? There was a dangerous edge to Jordan's affections. That hint of bad girl was so alluring. I didn't think that she would hurt me, but I wasn't sure she would think through the repurcussions of some of her actions.

I'd never really been attracted to bad girls before. But my experience with women was admittedly very limited.

I felt out of control and a little lost and pathetic, playing make-believe lesbian in my girlfriend's underwear. Where was Jordan? I expected her to be here by now.

She came through the door behind me and I twisted around in panic, thinking her father had come home early.

She was wearing a black leather duster and high black boots and she was carrying a tray. The tray had two wine glasses and a bottle of what looked like champagne. Jordan looked dark and sultry, like an exotic femme-fatalle. She put down the tray and stalked over to me, licking her lips.

I stared open mouthed.

She undid her belt and opened her coat to reveal a black corset in rich velvet and lace. She placed one booted foot on the sofa next to me and straightened her stocking. My slack jawed mouth inches from her crotch as my eyes went wide. She slowly peeled off her coat and threw it over the back of the sofa. She turned to face in the direction of the tray, gave a little "tsk" noise and, placing one foot a little in front of the other, bent at the waist to straighten the other stocking. Which had the effect of thrusting her pert bottom into my face. She straightened up and flicked her hair over her shoulder as she turned her head to look back at me with a knowing smile, then she stalked back to the tray and made short work of pouring two glasses of sparkling wine.

The pop of the cork as it flew across the room made me jump and squeal, there was so much tension and anticipation in the room.

She spilled some bubbles on the tray. She took both full glasses and came back towards me. She started to hand one glass to me, as I went to take it she drew the glass back a little until I lent forward to take it and she stole a kiss before she handed me the glass.

We clinked our glasses in a toast and she sipped her drink as I sipped mine. Her eyes held mine for a moment, then she drained her glass with a gulp and set it down on the floor by the sofa. As she lent forward to put the glass down her breasts threatened to fall out of their velvet cups. I was caught, like a deer in the headlights when she looked up at me through a veil of her hair and saw me staring at them. She smirked and said "Bottoms up, Bobbi, we have better things to do than drink champagne!"

I drained my glass and placed it next to hers.

She put two fingers in under my chin and raised my head up and kept raising it until I was stood before her. She slipped the fake fur coat from my shoulders and it slid down half on the sofa and half on the floor, then she led me over to the rug by the fire.

"What's in the bag?" I asked.
"Toys" she said with a knowing smirk.

"Lie down, on your front" she told me.
I obeyed as she went to the bag and opened it. There was a noise of something being squirted and a squelching noise as she rubbed it between her hands. She started massaging my shoulders. Whatever she used, it didn't feel like oil or lotion but it was slippery and smelled nice. It was cool at first and quickly warmed from the heat of my body in front of the fire.

She undid the back of my lingerie to get access to more of my back, but she left the straps around my arms. She worked her way down to my bum, she took her time and she knew what she was doing. When she reached my bum, it was clear the spanx were getting in the way. She teased the top of my thighs for a moment and then told me to "rollover".

She rummaged in her bag as I did so and took out two slim metal poles with loops on the end and some pink things that looked like foam covered wires about two feet long. Almost like small pool noodles. She did something with the poles and they extended to a few feet long and she slipped one under the mat above my head and one under the mat under my legs. Then she looked me in the eyes and looked very serious for a moment.

"Bobbi" she said "you know you can trust me, right? Absolutely".
I nodded, wondering where this was going.
"I want you to try this with me. It's what they call 'light bondage'. You could pull free if you want, but the feeling of being helpless adds to the fun. Let me show you with one hand…"
I nodded my assent and she threaded one of the pink things through the loop on the end of the top pole then twisted it around my wrist. It was like the cable tie holding something to the backing cardboard in a box. It wasn't tight, it felt like I could slip my hand out if I wanted.
"Ok?" Jordan asked.
I nodded, reassured.
She did the other wrist in a similar way to the loop at the other end of the rod.
"I need to take your spanx off now, because I won't be able to get them off once I secure your feet" Jordan said.
She knelt between my legs undid the stays on my stockings and gently removed my knickers and spanx together. Then she redid the stays and replaced the knickers, which was slightly pointless as I they couldn't stretch far enough to cover my erection.
Then Jordan raised my knees and strapped my ankles to the lower pole. She kissed my body as she slid along up me and kissed my mouth. Then she stood up, knelt with her knees either side of my head facing my feet and slowly lowered her body against mine…

-<3 !?! B>-

I'm not going to describe every moment of the two and a half hours that followed. It started slow and sensually with Jordan in complete control and ended after both of us had abandoned any pretense of control and were lying in front of the fire just holding each other and letting the various fluids; sweat, wine, lube and other secretions, dry on our skin. The sun had set while we made love and the room was lit by the dying embers of the fire...

"So…" Jordan said "have you decided if you like being my girlfriend?"
"Hah! Just wait til I get my breath back and we'll see who is who's girlfriend!" I retorted. I knew it was lame as I said it, but I was exhausted.
"Hmm, I'm pretty sure you enjoyed yourself, and you'll be going into work tomorrow as office Barbie again" Jordan said with a smug grin.
"It's not like I have a choice" I said ruefully "Julie wasn't there at the hotel when I went in on Friday, and none of the others knew anything about my trousers or the solvent to remove the breasts. God, that was an embarrassing conversation!"

"Ah" Jordan said in a small voice.

"Jordan?! Do you have something to tell me?" I said.
"Wellll… things have been a bit hectic and I may have forgotten to mention that I went to the hotel on Friday to retrieve your trousers…" Jordan said. She looked a little flustered.
"Go on" I said.
"...and… I have some solvent, some adhesive… and…" Jordan said.
"Don't stop there, I can tell there's more…" I said.
"I paid Julie for the prosthetics. She gave me a good price, because they were ex-demo items. They're yours to keep, as long as you want them… you just need to remove and clean the breasts once a week. I'll buy you some more spanx, if you want?" Jordan said, turning her 'puppy dog' eyes on me.
"You mean to say" I said pretending to be more outraged than I really was "that you could have gotten me back to normal on Friday!"
"Well… yes, I suppose. But… you never said you wanted to! Not to me!" Jordan protested.
I guess she was right. I had had an amazing weekend, full of revelations. I wasn't sure I was ready to stop playing yet, either…
"OK, if you want me to be your lesbian girlfriend that badly… I'll see how it goes tomorrow…" I said.
Jordan's face looked hopeful.
"You'll go to work as a woman tomorrow?" she said.
"Well, Cathy is expecting me to be there as Bobbi, so...yes" I said.
"And Tuesday?.." Jordan asked softly.
"One day at a time, for now." I said "I can't deny I've had a lot of fun these last few days, and my eyes have been opened to a much wider world. But, there's my Mum and others reactions to consider and I haven't met with some of the hardships and heartaches I'm sure are coming…"
"I'll help!" Jordan said "if you'll let me?"
"Ha! As if I could stop you! You are a force of nature, Jordan Carr, and I doubt even your Dad could stop you getting your way for long" I said.
"Good, as long as you know who wears the pants in this relationship!" Jordan said with satisfaction.
I glanced down at our bodies curled together and quipped "Isn't it best if neither of us do?!"

Virtually Feminine - Part 1 - Mistaken identity

Introduction
I wrote this story about personal growth through interaction in a Virtual World largely in response to Dorothy Colleen’s challenge to write something about a 40+ transition. I’m not sure it will get that far, but the characters are the right age at least.
I set it in Second Life, as that’s an environment I am familiar with. I was going to go through afterwards and edit all the references to some generic VR World but I think it gives it a more realistic feel by using the names and jargon from a ‘real’’virtual world that some of you may be familiar with. Of course, I don’t own Second Life ™ , it’s a registered trademark belonging to Linden Lab. I’m not associated with them in any way and the views and people described only bear a passing resemblance to anyone real or virtual.’ All copyrights and trademarks belong to their respective owners and I’m not trying to sell anything. Please don’t sue me, as I don’t have any money. Oh, and if you’re reading this Fee and you recognise yourself, I’m sorry.

Creating the Avatar
OK, I’m not sure how to start this. I guess it begins when I first logged on to Second Life. OK, that’s half the audience gone, right? But this isn’t some techy geeky nerd boy story…. OK, it kind of is, I’m telling this all wrong. Why don’t you let me tell it and make your own mind up? Maybe you can ask me any questions you have along the way.

I guess some later bits of this story will be sort of self-writing, I think I still have the conversations recorded somewhere. That’s one of the great strengths, and weaknesses, of any form of social network messaging these days. But when you are setting up the avatar the first time it’s not that straight forward, nothing is being recorded and you can’t easily go back and retrace your steps, so this account is based on my recollections, flawed as they may be.

So, it suddenly strikes me that some of you might be saying ‘What is Second Life anyway?’. There’s been a lot of stories in the press over the years, most of it in a vaguely mocking tone. Calling it ‘Saddville’ or other abusive terms and poking fun at all the 40-something virgins having cyber-sex online with each other.

That’s not really what it’s about. It’s a virtual 3-dimensional world, that looks like a first person shoot-em-up game. But everyone you meet is not a computer generated target but a 3D Avatar controlled by a real person. It’s a kind of glorified chat room with 3D people instead of little symbols. What are the rules of the game? There are no rules – it’s a bit like real life that way. How do you know you’ve won? The same way you do in real life.

If there was someone winning in real life, it wasn’t me. My wife had left me. My job meant I had to travel for 3 hours a day but it paid too well to give up. I couldn’t move closer to my work because then I would never get to see my kids. But it meant I had no social life. I was a dreadful insomniac so I watched a lot of tv and spent my days in a zombie-like daze due to lack of sleep. I needed a way to switch off or something so I thought I’d give Second Life a try.

I logged on to the website and downloaded the software. When I tried to log on it took me through a startup process where I had to choose; male or female, white or black, this guy or that guy until I ended up with a boring white slightly preppy looking mid-twenties looking guy on the screen. Then it asked me for a name. I had to choose from a list of Surnames, so I went with Weatherwax from the Terry Pratchett books. Someone had warned me not to give away anything, even your gender in the name you chose so I typed in ‘Jez’ – that could be short for Jeremy, Jezebel, or any number of other names.

There was a tutorial where the system took you through various actions step-by-step; from walking, through talking, to flying and teleporting. By the time you finished you had a breastplate of armour, a new outfit, a flaming torch and you could do a hula dance while talking to a parrot and hovering in mid-air and bouncing a beach ball

At the end of the trail there was a block that said ‘Click on me to continue’. I clicked on the block and there was a whooshing sound and my screen faded to black.

Then a new area was shown with loads of other Avatars around you. Only… there was some kind of problem, all the avatars, including mine, looked like grey stunted dwarf women. I mentioned this to one of the other avatars standing around who had a ‘Mentor’ tag on. She told me that we had all ‘been Ruthed’. Apparently the default avatar shape in Second Life is called “Ruth”, every other avatar is a modified version of the Ruth shape, including the male avatars. There was some technical reason for this, something about mapping the pixels for clothing and skins to a generic map. I had no understanding of the explanation so I just shrugged and got on with chatting to some of my fellow ‘Newbies’. There was one avatar called ‘Fee Avro’ who was really interesting. I can’t really explain why, I didn’t save that conversation (I didn’t know how to at the time) but she was funny. More than that she was genuinely witty, coming out with sharp acidic comments about every aspect of Second Life and Real Life. We chatted for about 30 minutes when suddenly she said that she had to go for a Real Life appointment of some sort. We agreed to login again later that night and ‘meet up’ in the virtual world. As Fee left, she offered to ‘Friend’ me, so that we would see whenever each other logged on.

After Fee left, I wandered around for a while and found a treasure trove of free skins, clothes, shapes – all kinds of things. I also found a chair where if you sat on it you would receive game tokens, called ‘Linden Dollars’ or ‘Lindens’ or ‘L$’ for short. 10L$ for sitting for 20 minutes. I had no idea what 10L$ would buy me in the game so I sat my avatar down for a while as I reviewed what Fee had said. As I read the comments it struck me that Fee had assumed that I was female. I guess we all looked female, as we had all been ‘Ruthed’, and neither my name or anything I said had been gender specific so it made sense. I’d had such laugh chatting and bitching with Fee. I knew if I turned up as a male avatar that would all change, I’d had problems before with mistaken identity in other games and chat rooms and I know it shouldn’t matter but it does make a difference. I thought to myself, what the hell – there’s nothing that says that Jez can’t be female. I wasn’t there for the cyber-sex, I didn’t really care what Fee saw in me as long as we could have a laugh together exploring this virtual world. So I went round the freebie island where you could kit out your new avatar for nothing and built a shape and outfit for my new female persona. Then I logged out and went to do some work around the house.

That evening I logged back in and found that Fee was already online. She told me that she had bought some Lindens for real money and then gone shopping and exploring. She asked me if I would like to come join her and see what she had bought. I agreed and asked her to give me a moment to sort out my inventory and get over to her location.

I checked my female avatar was all ready to go and I ‘teleported’ my avatar to where Fee was.

I was very surprised to see Fee looking very dapper in a blue suit and wearing a goatee beard.

“I thought you were a girl!” I blurted out in the chat window.

“Yeah, because of the Ruthing thing, I get it. Nope, just a bloke ☺” he replied. “Want to come see what I found?”
“Sure ☺”

So Fee vanished and sent me an IM message a few seconds later; “Join me in Heavenly Gardens – OK”.

I clicked on OK and my avatar reappeared in a beautiful garden. There were bridges over streams, gazebos, walls, benches and shrubs. Fee started in the direction of what looked to be a hedge-maze.

“Follow me, there’s this maze I want to show you” he typed.

“What are all the pink and blue balls for everywhere?”

“They’re animations built into the furniture, I click on a blue ball and you click on a pink ball and we will sit down on the benches or leans against the gazebos with a specific pose that the garden owner chooses”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

Fee walked over to a bench, there was a ‘ding’ noise and suddenly his avatar was sat in a classic male pose, with the legs apart. “Click on the pink ball to sit next to me” he said.

I clicked on the pink ball and suddenly my avatar was sat next to Fee, all prim and proper with legs crossed at the knees.

“Oh, I get it.”

“Hit the ‘stand’ button and come follow me – let’s see if we can find the centre of the maze!”

Fee’s avatar suddenly was on its feet and walking towards the maze again.

I fiddled for a while to hit the ‘stand’ button and got my avatar up and walking again. By the time I had got to the entrance to the maze Fee had vanished inside. I tried to figure out where he had gone and I realised that I could change the viewpoint of my screen, like zooming a remote camera on a drone all over the place. I took the camera view up to get an aerial view of the maze and saw Fee heading off to the centre. I could see he was going to get stuck, from my viewpoint, so I headed off in the opposite direction and got to the centre a few seconds before he did.

As we both got to the centre our avatars bumped into each other face to face and bounced back.

I chuckled in RL and said to Fee "We look like a couple of bumper-cars!"

"LOL — more like demented Daleks!" he quipped.

"What shall we do now?"

"Do you like to dance?" he said. Before I could answer he said "wait here a second" and his avatar vanished with a whooshing noise. A second or two later I got the "Join me in Heavenly Gardens — OK". I clicked on the button and my avatar vanished and reappeared next to Fee in what looked like an idealised Gazebo. There was a blue ball and a pink ball next to us with the caption "Dance (M)" and "Dance (F)" over each respective ball.

"Stand on your ball" Fee told me as he clicked on the blue ball and struck a dance pose with his arms extended. I clicked on the pink ball and selected "Dance" from the pie menu where normally it would say "Stand" and before I knew it Fee and Jez were waltzing around the screen together. It was cute, to see the two avatars dance demurely round the screen. Music played in the background and Fee and I chatted. I couldn't tell you what we talked about; kids, relationships, jobs. Early on in the conversation I tried to raise the subject of who I really was. I said to Fee that my avatar didn't look anything like me in RL and I was going to go on and explain the confusion but Fee shushed me and said he didn't care, for tonight he was just happy to play on SL and he didn't care who I was or what I looked like. It seemed harmless enough, so I just went along with it. I was careful with pronouns and personal details so as not to break the moment with the realisation that I was a man.
“ I know somewhere where there are a lot more different dances” said Fee. A moment later he vanished with a whooshing sound. I got a message “Join me in Heavenly Clouds”. I accepted the invitation and found myself in a misty area facing Fee. Through the clouds I was standing on I could see glimpses of the ground below. “I think it's supposed to be a nightclub in Heaven” he said. “Follow me” as he turned to stride across cloudscape to a pair of balls, one pink and one blue.

They each had a label "DanceR" over them. I clicked on the ball and before I knew it our avatars were dancing. It was a slow and sensual dance, I know now that it was a rumba, but I couldn't tell a rumba from twist in those days. Fee and I chatted about all life's little annoyances work, ex-partners, money, loneliness... We had so much in common it was spooky, I couldn't remember ever talking to someone like this and having them be genuinely interested in how I felt about things. I felt vulnerable and appreciated, two things I would have thought were poles apart.

Every now and then our avatars would get out of sequence, my character would be dipping as Fee was straightening up. Fee would growl, or at least, he would type "grrrrr" about Second Life's shortcomings and we would move on to another dance. We had romantic waltzes and sizzling Latin dances, none of which I knew the first thing about in real life ( or RL as Fee called it) but it was fun watching our avatars cavort as we typed our chat to each other. The dance floor had filled with dozens of other avatars. The male avatars were all fairly dull, but the female avatars were dressed like dazzling birds of paradise, beautiful makeup, hair and jewellery and dresses that flowed as they moved. I looked at my own avatar and felt strangely inadequate.

Then something happened that changed my view of the world forever. I don't think you can understand this unless you too have had this kind of epiphany. It was such a little thing, but it resonates through the core of my being to this day. There was a dance that Fee wanted to try, but two other avatars beat us to it as we stopped our previous dance and we were left just standing around aimlessly. Fee said "Let's sit this one out!" and headed over to a small bench or loveseat on the side of the dance floor. The seat had a pink and blue ball labelled "sit", so we sat.
The pose that we ended up in turned out to be very sweet, with Fee's avatar massaging Jez's feet. After all that dancing in high heels it seemed like the most natural thing to do. The thing that shook me was that I found I could practically feel Fee's strong fingers digging into my tired muscles and I shivered at the pleasure the sensation gave me. I told Fee how good it felt. I know it was all in my imagination, but it was like a form of self-hypnosis.

My mind was in a whirl, it had been so long since anyone other than my kids had touched me that even this phantom touch was spooky good. I had been starved of adult contact, except for at work, for so long. The fact that it was a man, rather than a woman didn't bother me as much as I thought it should. What did it matter? We would never meet in real life (let's pray he never finds out who I really am, he would hate me so much). I rationalised it to myself that this was just part of the game, like the role-playing in Dungeons and Dragons except, instead of getting bonus experience points for playing a half-elf magic user I would get seduction lessons from an alternative viewpoint, courtesy of Fee. What could be wrong with that?

I accused Fee there and then of trying to seduce me, I could tell he was smirking as he typed back simply "Is it working?"
Truth to tell, it kinda was, not that I could admit that to him, or even to myself, so I just ignored his question and changed the subject - I asked him if he’d like to try a different dance I’d spotted on the other side of the sim.

We danced a few more dances, chatted a bit more small talk and arranged to meet again the next evening.

Virtually Feminine - Part 10 - Thanksgiving
Cathy decides to go ahead with her real life test and live as a woman 24 x 7. Her first public outing is at Kathryn's Thanksgiving Party as an 'honourary American' because she knows how to bake pumpkin pie...

Thanks to Gabi for all her help and support and for proof-reading all this for me. I wouldn't be able to post this without her.

Part 10 - Thanksgiving

I'd driven home as soon as I got back to my car. I don't like staying in London any longer than I have to. I always find it a strange mix of exciting and depressing. Exciting because there are all the shops and shows and museums. Depressing because they're so expensive and I don't feel I fit in. I miss the countryside and greenery of the West Country.

I called my Mum on the way home. It’s ok, I have built-in hands-free in the car, and the journey is two and a half hours on a good day, once you get to the car, so I had time.

It was an odd conversation, a little stilted. Mum has difficulty hearing me on the phone sometimes these days. I’m still not clear what she thinks about me transitioning. She seems to be ignoring it, as much as possible. I haven’t pushed the point, I haven’t shown her what I look like when I’m dressed as a woman. I guess that she will accept it, for the sake of her grandkids, but I can tell she’s bothered. Whether she’s worried for me or worried by me, I can’t tell yet.

I didn’t call my Dad, I generally don’t think to call him. When we spoke after Linda saw me in a dress he tried to make it all about him - how could I be so stupid as to let Linda discover me? Didn’t I realise how that made him look? Why couldn’t I be man enough to let him know first?
Kind of ironic, that last one.
My Dad is probably one of the reasons I have no interest in playing at being a man anymore. He is the very definition of ‘toxic masculinity’ - his picture is alongside the entry in the dictionary.

After I ended the call with my Mum, I drove home with MP3s from my phone playing on the car audio and mused about what I would be wearing to go to work in weeks to come.

I wanted to tell Kathryn all about my appointment as I drove home. But I waited until I knew she'd be out of the office before I called her.

It was quite late in the day by the time I got home and I didn't have to wait long to talk to Kathryn. She sounded nearly as disappointed as I felt, as I described the whole heap of nothing that had changed. She became more interested as I mentioned the support service near Exeter.

“So. Are you coming into work tomorrow as Cathy?” she asked.

“I don’t think I’m quite ready for that tomorrow.” I admitted, “But I think it’s clear that, sooner or later, it’s going to happen”.

“What can I do to help you get to that point?” Kathryn asked.

“You’ve already done so much for me,” I replied. “Just… I don’t know, be patient with me? For a little while longer. I know I can rely on you to stand by me when things get sticky”.

“You know it, girl friend!” Kathryn said

-0-0-

Friday was a drag, after the excitement of the day before.

-0-0-

That weekend I sat down and had a chat with Kevin and Rachael about me wearing dresses in the future. Rachael didn’t really understand why it would be an issue. Kevin was angry and confused. I wanted to ask them not to talk to Linda about it, but that would mean either they told her everything and it drove a wedge between us all or they wouldn’t be able to talk to their mother about something that might be troubling them a lot. I held my tongue. I could explain that their Mum had sent an evil letter to my boss to try and get me into trouble, but really they were too young to understand and trying to get into a battle with their mother through them was not something I would ever do.

Linda might try it though.

-0-0-

On Sunday, I planned to go to town on the roast dinner. I had a new dress, I’d practised my makeup with help from Kathryn, I had a really nice joint of beef, with all the trimmings and an apple pie and custard for dessert.

I seasoned the meat and got it in the oven, prepared the vegetables and laid the table. Then I went to get dressed and made-up before my Mum arrived. When I came back down, I put an apron on to protect my new dress and I carried on getting the dinner ready. The roast potatoes were in when Mum arrived.

She looked me up and down when she came in, but she didn’t say a word about my outfit.

She said, “Hello, Andy,” as she stepped through the door.

Rachael came bounding up then to take over Grandma’s time.

“Grandma! There you are! Come and play with me,” she said.

I went back to the kitchen and carried on preparing dinner. When everything was ready I called everyone to the table.

Kevin came down from his room and gave me a curious look. Then he saw the food on the table and, given his usual priorities, unsurprisingly, decided food first and snarky comments after.

Mum came in with Rachael and her eyebrow raised when she saw the food laid out on the table.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked.

“What? I can’t prepare a fabulous dinner for my family?” I asked “I’m celebrating my first appointment at the gender clinic following the referral from my company,” I continued.

“Your company is paying for all this?” Mum said, gesturing vaguely in my direction.

“Well, I bought the dress, my friend, Kathryn, helped pick out the makeup, but yes, the company is picking up my medical bills. Their health insurance covers Gender Dysmorphia, which they believe is the root cause of my long-term depression,” I said.

Mum considered this for a moment and clearly thought that this was not a subject to be discussed in front of the children.

“Well, this all looks delicious! Can you pass me the potatoes, Kevin?” she said.

The rest of the evening was bizarrely normal.

I didn’t need to bathe Rachael anymore, but she was still young enough that I needed to supervise, and help her dry her hair downstairs with Grandma as Kevin took a shower.

Mum helped me get the kids off to bed. When Kevin had said good night and gone off to his room she sat down and sighed.

“Long term depression?” she asked.

“You know I’ve been depressed,” I answered.

“I’d assumed it was because of the breakdown of your marriage,” she said.

“I’m not sure which was the cause and which was the effect, to be honest. Linda and I were growing apart for years.” I said

“Well, you know I never liked her?” Mum said.

“I know...she changed, she wasn’t that bad when we got together. And I wanted kids…” I said.

“You wanted to be a mother?” Mum asked.

“Ha! Yes, I suppose so. I didn’t really know what I wanted then. I just felt… incomplete, like something was missing?” I said.

Mum looked a little wistful.

“Yes,” she said, “I remember that feeling… Kids… well, children give our lives meaning, I think.”

She looked over at me, and continued.

“Even when you don’t understand them and barely recognise them… you still love them.”

I started tearing up.

“Oh Mum! Stop it! I’m not wearing waterproof mascara and I don’t want to give Rachael nightmares when I check she’s asleep!” I said.

Mum chuckled.

“She’s made of stronger stuff than your Kevin. Girls have to be, I guess, as you will learn, I’m afraid…” she said.

“I think I have to go through this, Mum,” I said softly, “I don’t want to think about how low I got before…”

“Before?” Mum prompted.

“Before I found what has been dragging me down all my life, I think. I’ve never been truly happy, I just hid everything, from you, from Linda and from myself.” I said.

“I knew you were struggling,” Mum said. “But I never imagined anything like this…”

“I’m sorry Mum, I don’t think it was a choice,” I said.

“No. I don’t suppose it was… a Mother has a right to worry that you are doing the right thing for the right reason. And I don’t pretend to understand what’s going on inside your head… But I will be here for you and the kids. I just wish you hadn’t chosen such a difficult path…” she said.

“Not really a choice.” I reminded her.

“What’s the next step, then?” she asked.

“Well, the consultant said that I should start with a social transition, begin my Real Life Test, straight away,” I said.
“What does that mean?” my Mum asked, looking worried.

“Dressing like a woman all the time, living as a woman full-time,” I explained.

“Isn’t that, I don’t know… dangerous?” she asked.

“There is some risk, I guess. I don’t think I’ll be in any physical danger, though. On the job side... I don’t think I’m in danger of losing my job, like you seem to imagine. HR has already made it clear that they will back me at work, my job will be protected because I’ll be a minority.” I said.

I told Mum about Julie and what she said about it potentially being a good move, career-wise.

Mum shook her head.

“I don’t understand the world anymore. But you make a convincing woman. What name will you use? Andi? Andrea?” she asked.

“Er… I go by Cathy, online. A clean break between the two of us.” I said.

“I was going to call you Rachael, if you had been a girl,” she said.

“I know, that’s why I named my daughter Rachael. I never dreamed I might want that name for my own… No, I think Cathy will save a lot of confusion. Catherine for best.” I said.

“Isn’t your friend called Catherine?” Mum asked.

“Kathryn, with a ‘K’,” I said. “She never shortens it to Kathy, but yes, it can be confusing. We have three Andys in the sales team at the moment, so I guess it will be less confusing than that!”

We chatted for a little longer. The tension that there had been earlier had lessened now, and Mum seemed to accept that this was something that I had to do.

When she got up to leave, I rose with her to see her to the door. She gave me a hug, just before she left. I don’t remember the last time my Mum hugged me like that.

“My word!” she said as she let me go “You’re nothing but skin and bone! No wonder you look so good in a dress. But men like a few curves! Don’t get too skinny.”

I snerked, I couldn’t hold my laugh in.

“I think it’s going to be a long time before I date anyone, Man or woman. If I’m confused about my gender and my body, how is dating going to fit in?”

Mum shrugged.
“Sometimes the love of a good man can make everything seem right again,” she said with a smile.

I smiled as I thought about Fee.

“I guess you have a point!” I said.

Mum gave me a look, but didn’t stop to dig into it then. I don’t think she wanted any more revelations tonight, and I think she thought I was just winding her up.

-0-0-

I dropped off the kids at school as usual the next day and headed to work. I discussed with Julie how to make the transition to working as a woman. We agreed that I would continue using the disabled toilets downstairs, I would be given a key. That had the advantage that the room locked, rather than just the stall and it would give me some privacy to change or even shower (there was a shower stall in there too). I would send out an email to the company announcing my decision and Julie would follow it up with an email to the managers highlighting the company policies and offering guidance and training to anyone who thought that they might need it under the circumstances.

To be honest, I was more worried about the assholes who knew that they didn’t need training, they could only ever be in the right because they were white and male.

-0-0-

I drafted my letter, and shared it with Julie to see if she agreed with it. I also shared it with Kathryn to see if she could suggest anything. We ended up agreeing on this:

Dear Colleagues,

I’m sending this email to inform you of something that is intensely personal to me but which will result in some changes at work. I obviously cannot talk to each of you individually and explain everything to you personally so I am writing to explain to you so you won’t hear things via the rumour-mill that may be inaccurate or wrong.

I realise that some of you may still have questions or strong opinions about the issues raised by this email. By all means, drop me an email in return and I will do my best to answer any questions that you may have as honestly as I can.

I have been questioning my gender identity for some time now and I have realised that the depression and anxiety I have suffered from has been caused by the discomfort of being designated as male. Outside of work I have, with the help of friends and family, been identifying as a woman. Unfortunately, this has meant my discomfort at work has been growing. Following medical advice, and with the support of our HR team I have decided to transition to living as a woman full time.

I will still be the same person and this should improve my ability to concentrate on my work as it will remove a major distraction for me as I will no longer have two personas to juggle.

As you can imagine, this has been a difficult decision that I have struggled with for some time. Most of the people I have told about this already have been overwhelmingly supportive, which has surprised and delighted me. I hope that the rest of you will feel the same way, or at least reserve judgement until we have had a chance to work together and you get to know me in my new persona.

I will be leaving work on Wednesday evening as Andy Smith (male) and returning to work on Friday as Ms Catherine Smith (female), but I hope that you will call me Cathy.

Respectfully

Cathy Smith

Bid Manager

Julie shared this letter, along with a letter from the HR team, with the Senior Management team. That was kind of the point of no return for me.

The HR letter had a link to the company diversity policy, pointed out the section on Transgender rights and zero tolerance to abuse in the workplace and reiterated the company values of tolerance.

I got a personal email from the Chief Executive of the company congratulating me on my bravery and asking me to arrange to meet with him next week. I rang his PA, a charming woman called Maddie, who, as his PA, had already seen all of the messages, and arranged a meeting on Monday morning.

The messages to the whole company were scheduled to be sent on Wednesday morning. I’d already booked off Thursday to make pumpkin pies for Kathryn’s Thanksgiving dinner.

The rest of Monday and Tuesday were a bit of a blur.

I dragged myself into work on Wednesday with a feeling of dread and elation. This could all go either very well or very very badly. Possibly both.

My line manager, Sally, had been on the list of people who had seen the draft email. She hadn’t had much to say about it, strangely. When the email went out, the phone on her desk started ringing, the emails started flooding in and she turned to me and said:

“Well, the circus has started, you may as well go now, you won’t get any more work done today!”

“Er… Ok, I guess that you are right” I said. I got up and started packing my bag to leave.

“I’ll look forward to meeting ‘Cathy’ on Friday!” Sally said cheerfully.

I left the building quickly. There was a feeling of being watched as I made my way to my car. I felt like everyone in the company was pointing at me and saying to the person standing next to them ‘That’s him, that’s the weirdo who sent the email!’

-0-0-

When I got home, I took off my suit, put on some yoga pants and a sweatshirt and started packing all my male clothes away. I had already started preparing and many things were cleaned and folded and sorted. I started packing them into boxes and taping them up. I planned to take them to a charity shop, but I thought I would give it a few weeks before I did that. Not that I really expected to ever go back to dressing in male clothes after today, but, hey, I never thought a year ago that I would ever be wearing women’s clothes to go to work.

I took a break for a small steak and a salad and then I started putting some outfits together and packing an overnight bag for Kathryn’s party, and going into work the next day as Cathy.

Because I didn’t have to be up early in the morning for work, I went to bed quite late. I still couldn’t sleep. I lay in bed in my sleep shorts set thinking of all the things that might happen over the next few days, good and bad and in-between.

-0-0-

I woke at 7 a.m. the next day and my mind started whirling, so I decided to get up and start baking.

I took two large pumpkins, cut them in half, scooped out the seeds, smeared the edge with olive oil and placed the halves on a baking tray in a preheated oven for forty-five minutes.

The flesh of the pumpkin steamed in its own juices that were trapped under the dome of the pumpkin half.

I started making the pastry for the cases, I rolled it out, lined the greased pie tins and put in the baking paper and beads to blind bake the cases. When I took out the pumpkins to scoop out the baked flesh I put in the cases.

I scooped out the flesh and blended it in a large plastic jug with a hand-blender, then I separated the puree into two jugs. In the larger one that I had used to puree the flesh, I made up the filling with cream, eggs, condensed milk, brown sugar and a mixture of ginger, cinnamon and mixed spice. The second, smaller jug I experimented with a keto version of the recipe, eggs and double cream were fine, and so were the spices. I used Erythritol instead of sugar and skipped the condensed milk entirely. I put just a little Xanthan gum in to try and ensure the filling had the right consistency after baking.

By the time I had the fillings made, the cases were ready, smelling great and looking just slightly darker than when they went in.

I quickly removed the paper and beads and filled the cases, making sure I made a note of the position of which one had the keto mix. I put them back in the oven and went to have a shower. They would need to be turned down after about 30-40 minutes, but they would take a long time to cook, so I thought I would use the time to start getting ready.

I used hair removal cream all over my body before I got in the shower, which took 15 minutes or so, I was worrying while I was showering about how the pies were doing. I threw on my pink towelling robe when I got out of the shower and I hurried down to the kitchen to check. There was a skin forming on the filling, but it was clear that they still were not cooked. I turned the oven down and went back to getting ready.

I tucked and taped and affixed my prosthetics, every girl needs a little help and I needed more help than most. Then I put on my new bra and panties. A feeling of peace settled over me and I let out a breath that I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. I felt just a little more feminine, my body was starting to match the way it should have always been. I still had makeup and hair to do before I could be seen in public, but I felt more ‘right’ than I had for days.

I went back down to the kitchen to check on the pies. They were looking pretty good now. I pulled up a stool next to the breakfast bar so that I could watch the oven as I had a coffee on the counter next to me and I sat down to wait until the pies were ready.

I tried to imagine myself as a domestic goddess, swanning around in a peignoir, like Nigella Lawson, the thought cracked me up, and I laughed to myself. Linda had joked, early in our relationship, that with my cooking skills I would make someone a lovely wife.

Her loss, silly cow.

I finished my coffee and checked the pies again, they looked pretty good, with some brown patches on top. I didn’t want to overcook them, I wasn’t sure whether to eat them at room temperature or warm them slightly at Kathryn’s, chilled pumpkin pie was too bland to contemplate.

I took the pies out and left them cooling on boards on the work surface. I tidied the kitchen up and then did a quick check around the house. I was going to go into work from Kathryn’s tomorrow and pick up the kids on the way home from work, so the next time I would be home would be with the kids. I didn’t want to bring them home into a messy house.

Once I had finished tidying I went upstairs to finish getting changed and packing my bags. I decided to wear my jeans to drive up and help Kathryn set up and then change into my long skirt for the party.

I loaded up my car, with my bags (including my handbag, I was going to have to remember that from now on), clothes and the pies and set off.

It took nearly an hour and a half to drive to Kathryn’s. It felt a little odd, driving such a long way in my wig and makeup, I had avoided driving any great distance so obviously ‘en femme’ up until now because I didn’t want to have to answer awkward questions if I was stopped by the police for some reason. As I was going to be driving to work every day like this from now on, now was as good a time as any to start getting over my hangups about driving.

When I got to junction 17 of the M4, I rang Kathryn to let her know that I was nearly there and to check that it was ok to park on the road outside her front door for a few moments to drop off the pies and my bag?

“Of course!” she replied “See you soon!”

It took me about 20 minutes to get to Kathryn’s house and I parked right outside her door, with two wheels on the pavement, got out and knocked on the door. Kathryn opened it straight away and I handed her the pies in a cake carrying case, her eyes widened in appreciation.

“Wow, these look great!” she said.

“The one on the top is mine, it doesn’t have any sugar,” I said.

Kathryn’s face screwed up.

“Eww!” she said “That’s a horrible thought! Thanksgiving dessert with no yummy calories!”

“Oh, it has calories, just no sugar. I’m going to have to leave the crust though” I said, then sighed, like the martyr I am.

I handed my case, skirt and suit for tomorrow to Kathryn.

“Right, I’ll go and park and see you in a few minutes,” I said. I was anxious to get away before a parking warden came, Kathryn had told me how difficult they had made her neighbour’s lives.

I parked up in the same place I had before. I got my coat and my handbag, checked the car to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, locked up, double-checked the handle and headed off to Kathryn’s.

It took 3 minutes to drive to where I parked, but nearly ten minutes to walk back. I only had a low heel on my boots, but it did affect the way I walked. It was quite mild for November, about 12 degrees Celsius, but it wasn’t warm and I was glad of my woollen coat.

I felt strangely exposed, walking by myself, like I was in enemy territory, somehow.

When I got back to Kathryn’s house I knocked on the door. It took a long time for Kathryn to open the door, I was starting to wonder if she had heard me. Kathryn didn’t have a doorbell, just a knocker in the shape of a woodpecker. I never wanted to bang it too hard in case I broke something, but, given the layout of her house, if I knocked on the door and she was in the shower on the top floor then there was no way that she would hear me.

Kathryn welcomed me in with a hug and led me inside.

“Is it ok if I take my bag upstairs and go and get changed?” I asked.

“Leave your bag downstairs in the old kitchen,” she said “I’ve arranged for you to stay with friends tonight, so you can take your bag when you leave.”

“OK,” I said, a little doubtfully. I don’t know these friends and I’m feeling pretty vulnerable right now.

Kathryn had transformed her house, she’d shown me some photos online that she told me were taken by a professional photographer for House and Garden magazine. The downstairs was carpeted, had one large sofa and two small ones and bookshelves and lamps. One wall, behind the larger sofa, was dominated by a huge mirror that hid half the wall and had a heavy pewter effect frame. But the vast mirror gave the illusion that the small room was much larger than it really was. I stowed my bag, coat and suit on its hanger in the old kitchen that Kathryn had converted to a kind of cloakroom or alcove, with coat hooks, and headed upstairs with my skirt and handbag.

I got changed in the bathroom that I had helped to tile and I took the opportunity to touch up my makeup.

When I came downstairs to the kitchen Kathryn was running around getting things ready, there was so much food and more stuff cooking in the oven.

“Can you help me? Can you stick this up there? Close to the ceiling?” Kathryn asked. She handed me a packet of blu tack and some red, white and blue tinsel.

“You only wanted me to come to save on buying a ladder?” I asked.

“I’m hurt… there’s also your pumpkin pie!” Kathryn quipped.

We put up some decorations and Kathryn continued to prepare food until we got to 6 pm, then Kathryn said…

“Right! I have to run and get a shower now. Can you keep an ear out for the door and let in anyone who knocks?”

“You don’t have invitations, or a password?” I asked.

“No…” she said.

“How do I know if they are people you’ve actually invited?” I asked.

“Well… if they have an American accent then you can be fairly sure I invited them!” Kathryn said.

-0-0-

No one came while Kathryn was in the shower, I think that she was just teasing me. She took less time than I did to get ready, but I guess she has a significant head-start on me when it comes to looking feminine.

We were chatting in the kitchen when the first knock on the door came. We went down to answer the door together, I stayed behind Kathryn as she let in her first visitor, a guy about our age with a beard and, as it turned out, a Scottish accent.

“Ian!” Kathryn said, “You’re a little earlier than I expected, come in, this is my friend, Cathy!”

“Oh, aye!” Ian said, looking me up and down. He didn’t make any comment, so I assume Kathryn has told him she had a trans-woman at the party. I wondered what she had said and who she had told. “I’ll just go and put these in the kitchen then…” He said, as he indicated a carrier bag that clinked as he raised it. “I saw some of the others coming along behind me…” and with that, he headed upstairs to the kitchen.

There was another knock on the door then. From that moment on there was a steady stream of people, most of whom had American accents. Kathryn’s tiny house seemed full with Kathryn, Island and me in it, by the time there were eight other people it was a struggle to find somewhere to sit down, even with people spread through the living room, Kitchen and Bedroom on the three floors. Nobody seemed to know each other, except for the last couple to arrive; Mark and Jenny, who clearly knew each other - Mark was the American and Jenny had a British accent. Mark knew Ian, apparently.

Most of the conversation in the early part of the evening was based on answering the question “Well, how do you know Kathryn, then?” Which was easy for me; “We work together,” was met with an “Oh, of course”.

Everyone brought food or drink and the large table in Kathryn’s kitchen and every available flat surface was covered in food and drink. There was nowhere to sit down for a meal so Kathryn organised it as a kind of buffet. There was turkey, sweet potato (mashed and fried in chunks like roast potatoes), there were roast potatoes, pasta salad, potato salad, vegetables and several desserts. Someone else had brought a pumpkin pie but theirs was a much larger and more elaborate thing than mine. I found out the person who had brought the other pie was a very imposing lady from New York City, she was tall, with long waves of blonde hair, her name was Carolyn. She kind of reminded me of Blake Lively, but she was in her fifties, I think. She spoke just a little too loud for the environment, I don’t know if she was going deaf or if she was just used to people listening whenever she spoke. I never got a straight answer about what she did for a living (‘this and that, you know’) or where exactly she lived in New York (‘here and there, you know’) but she had an endless source of stories and anecdotes about her friends and Manhattan, none of which meant very much to me, to be honest. The only time I have visited America was to go to San Francisco, well, technically Silicon Valley, to do ‘Due Diligence’ on a potential partner company for the company that I was working for. Carolyn managed to get that story out of me. There was one comment she made, she said “Oh, that explains _soo_ much” when I said how I really like San Francisco, that I didn’t quite understand. But she seemed to be joking. She explained that her pie was a baked mascarpone cheesecake pumpkin pie. Whatever it was, it was rich and delicious. I think mine was a little better balanced between the sweetness and the flavour, but all the food was delicious. I decided early on in the evening that my diet was out of the window.
I tried to stick to soft drinks. I’m not great with social situations and I was so far out of my comfort zone. I wanted to leave myself the option of driving home if things got too boring or too uncomfortable.

But, as the evening went on, everyone was super nice. No one asked me the obvious question. Jenny asked me about my skirt at one point in the evening, but only to ask where I got it from.

We started playing games at about 10 pm, the kind that requires drinking. I gave up then and had a few drinks. The evening gets a bit blurry from around then. I know I got my smartphone out to take some pictures, but they are so blurry you couldn’t make them out, even if I did share them with you.

After about 11 pm people started leaving. I was waiting for Mark and Jenny to say let’s go, but they showed no signs of going. Eventually, it was just Kathryn, Ian, Mark, Jenny and me. It was about 11:30 pm or midnight when we finally left, Mark carried my case and Jenny hung onto my arm, I’m not sure if she was propping me up or I was propping her up, but she was only about 5’6” so I guess neither of us were doing a great job. Jenny was giggling and doing a stage whisper that was loud enough to set the dogs barking as we passed people’s houses. Mark was walking with quiet dignity. It wasn’t far to their house, they showed me to a guest bedroom, where I carefully got changed to go to sleep, taking off my makeup and wig carefully.

I went to sleep, smiling to myself at the sounds of drunken love-making in the room next door.

Virtually Feminine - Part 11 - First Day - Again

Cathy goes into the office dressed as her true self for the first time.

Thanks to Gabi for editing this for me and picking up all my mistakes, and for encouraging me to get on and write.

Virtually Feminine - Part 11 - First Day - Again

I woke up the next morning in a panic as my phone’s alarm went off. I didn’t recognise the room and it took me a moment to remember where I was. I also realised what day it was. My first day at work as Cathy. Shit.

What was I thinking? I wasn’t ready for this!

I needed a month’s preparation, expert help, a team of psychologists and buckets of drugs.

Instead, I had a slight hangover, I was miles from home and I didn’t even know my hosts.

I sighed and started to get up. Jenny had left me a towel. I took my toiletries bag and headed off to find the bathroom. There was no sign of Jenny or Mark. I took a quick shower, with a shower cap. The pressure was rubbish and the bathroom was not as clean as mine at home. I wrapped the towel around me (yes, girl-style) and headed back to my room.

I had unpacked my outfit and left it to hang last night. I checked it over this morning. It looked ok. I wasn’t going to have to try and find an iron, thank goodness.

I dressed and did my makeup. I fussed with my wig and did a final check of my appearance. I had butterflies in my tummy. There was no way I wanted breakfast, not that Mark or Jenny were around to offer any. I sighed and dug out a piece of paper from my bag. I scrawled a quick thank you note. Packed everything and got it set by the door. I put the note on the kitchen table and quietly let myself out.

I made my way to my car using the maps app on my phone, it was quite a trek. Then I drove to the office. It was early, about 8:30 am. The earliest that I had ever seen the office (unless you count the times I had still been in the office and working at 1:30 am after a long day).

I kept my head down and made my way to my desk. I started my laptop and went to get a coffee from the machine. There were no other Bid Managers or Salespeople around this early. There were a couple of Technical Consultants around, but they just ignored me.

I sat down and started going through emails and messages from yesterday, firing off messages to chase contributors to my current bids. I sipped my coffee and my heart rate started dropping back from the humming-bird wings level it had been at. I sighed and relaxed a little, I’d made it through the door, no one had screamed and pointed at me.

As I settled into my normal working day I rubbed my nylon clad legs together and looked at my reflection in the windows across the office. Showing office Barbie with auburn hair typing away. There was a little thrill of triumph that I had made it and a sense of rightness with the world that I hadn’t realised was missing.

Although I was scared and anxious about what would happen as the office filled up, I felt as though a weight had fallen from my shoulders.
Bev came in, she was the first of the bid managers to arrive. She was dressed in a similar way to me. She was a little older than me and looked like a blonde, prettier and more feminine version of me. She gave me a nod of recognition and sat down to start work without a comment.

The other bid managers and technical consultants came in over the next 25 minutes or so. They all did much the same as Bev, or ignored me altogether.

Sally, my boss, came in almost exactly at 9 am. Her desk was next to mine. She came over, placed her laptop on the desk and her handbag next to mine.

“This is an unexpected pleasure, seeing you in the office this early, Cathy” she said.

“Ah,” I said, blushing slightly, “I stayed in Malmesbury last night. Plus, I don’t really want to be walking to the overflow carpark at 7 pm anymore, safety in numbers, you know?”

“Oh, of course I understand that… “ Sally said, “all of the other… bid managers… understand that, I think.”

I think she was going to say ‘women’ for a moment, but I guess the jury was still out on whether I qualified. I was certainly a bid manager though, at least.

“When is your first meeting this morning?” Sally asked.

“I have a bid kick-off at 11 am for the new camera system” I said.

“Any problems I should be aware of?” Sally asked.

“Aside from me being the new girl now?” I asked with a slight smile.

“Hmm…Do you want me to come?” Sally asked.

I sighed.

“I’m a big girl now, I chose this path. Now I have to see how things go…” I said.

Sally grinned.

“I’ve sat next to you for five years now and never really seen anything in you to suggest that you would one day…” she started, then waved her hand as she trailed off.

“It seems so incongruous to hear those words, in your voice now… But you certainly look…well put together!” Sally concluded brightly.

“Er, thanks” I said, not really sure how to respond. “I know it will be a five minute wonder, and people will react, both good and bad reactions. I’m just looking forward to when all this is normal - whatever normal is.”

“Julie asked if you could go and see her in HR when you got in. They want to sort out new photo ID and some other issues” Sally said.

“Sure,” I said, and picked up my handbag. I checked it had my phone and a notepad and pen and I headed off to see Julie.

-+-+-

Julie wasn’t at her desk when I got to the HR office. Dianne, her boss, was there. I worked with Dianne at our previous company. She’d been recruited into the current company, but I’d been made redundant a couple of years later. We’d never been friendly. Dianne had always been ambitious and played office politics.

“Oh! Erm… ‘Cathy’, isn’t it?” she said to me.

“Yes, Dianne” I said with a smile.

“Julie will be back in a moment, she’s just getting coffee. Please, take a seat…” Dianne said as she indicated the seat next to Julie’s desk. A few of the desks in HR had a ‘visitor’s chair’ next to them, as they spent so long with people from other teams sat next to them.

I sat carefully in the chair with my knees together and my back straight. Dianne gave me an odd look, then returned to her office to the side of the main HR office.

Julie turned up a moment later with a tray of coffees, she took one look at me and gave me a big smile.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get one for you, I didn’t expect you to be here yet” she explained as she passed out the coffees to her colleagues.

“It’s ok, I’ve already had one coffee this morning” I said.

“I must say, you look very professional, I love that outfit… Which is excellent, because I have to re-do your photo IDs today” Julie said, “Can you stand over there, by the wall?”

She got up and retrieved an odd-looking camera from a cupboard. I went over and stood by the wall. While I was waiting for her to get the camera ready I quickly got out my small mirror from my handbag and checked how I looked, kicking myself for not checking in the toilets before I came in.

“Ha!” said Julie “Yes, I do that before I get my photo taken, as well… Not like all the men… the only one of them who cares how he looks on his pass is Alex!”

Alex was the obviously gay guy who worked in procurement. He always wore gorgeously tailored suits with loud ties and a broach of some sort. I’d not had much to do with Alex since he joined a few months ago, despite the fact that Procurement was a major contributor to the figures for the costing models. Alex generally got the prices for the comms kit rather than the software that I worked on. Maybe, now that we were both poster children for the alphabet mafia, we would be thrown together more often?

Julie took her photos and gestured for me to sit back down.

“How’s it all going?” she asked, keeping her voice low, as if to prevent everyone else in the office from listening in. It was a small office, and there wasn’t much chance of our conversation not being overheard.

“Well, it’s early in the day… most people have just ignored me, so far…” I said, with a wry smile.

“Hopefully they are just trying to pretend it’s the new normal until it is the new normal?” Julie said.

“Maybe” I said, with a shrug.

“Let me know if there are any… difficulties?” Julie said

“Nothing so far” I reassured her.

“OK, well… I’ll get your badge to you in an hour or so… Good luck!” Julie said.

“Thanks, Julie” I said, giving her a warm smile as I rose to return to my desk.

-+-+-

When I got back to my desk Nicky and Sarah, the two salespeople, had both come in. Sarah did a double-take when she saw me sit at the desk and Nicky gave me an odd look and immediately went back to reading something on her screen.

I quickly got back to work preparing for the bid kick-off meeting.

One thing I hadn’t thought of was how I was going to get my laptop, my phone, my notepad and various pens, plus the bid folder over to the meeting room. I asked Sally if I could borrow one of the old laptop bags in the cupboard behind us and I packed everything in the bag so that I could carry it easily. Not having pockets was an issue. I had a new respect for the way the other bid managers managed to balance everything in a pile and carry it. I’d never given that much thought to it in the past. I’d always thrown everything in my laptop bag rucksack, but that seemed inelegant now.

I set up earlier than normal, to give myself time to crawl under the desk if necessary, to find the HDMI lead without flashing my knickers in my skirt. Nicky came in first, as the sales lead on this job, then the Sales director, Finance director, CEO and the Development manager.

I had the first slide of my presentation up on the screen, which was Nicky’s cue for her sales pitch:
She explained what the bid was for and, as she so frequently did, she explained how this business was ‘vital to the future success of the company’. What I didn’t expect was her next line, which was:

“I therefore wonder whether it wouldn’t be an idea to consider another bid manager, instead of Andy, as he may be a distraction to the process of bidding!”

I looked around the room like a startled rabbit in the headlights.

Ray, the sales director, was trying not to smirk, and failing. Nicky was watching him for approval. Brian, the finance director, looked a little pissed off. Bruce, the CEO, was watching me expectantly. Simon, the dev manager looked puzzled.

Hmm.

“Gentlemen,” I said, with as much authority as I could muster, “as the only person who seems to be distracted by the sight of a bid manager wearing a skirt is Nicky, perhaps we should continue?”

I launched into my presentation with a detailed plan of the resources and timescales for completing the bid and a spreadsheet showing that the difference between making a small profit and making an exceptional profit (that matched the sales forecast) relied upon the procurement team negotiating a discount for buying a key component in bulk.

Brian and Bruce were clearly impressed with the preparation I had done. Ray looked like he had swallowed a wasp. Simon still looked puzzled.

Bruce signed off the top sheet for the bid resources, giving me authority to request resources from the rest of the company.

I packed up as everyone else left and headed back to my desk. Nicky was in Ray’s office with him. Sally looked at me questioningly as I set my laptop up.

“Can I see you for a minute?” I asked, gesturing to the meeting room opposite Ray’s office.

Sally arched an eyebrow and followed me. I shut the door behind her and sighed.

“So, how did it go?” Sally asked.

“Nicky asked if it wouldn’t be a good idea to give her important bid to another bid manager because I would be distracted!” I said. I tried not to sound too whiney.

“Oh? Really. It’s funny how she never put the request in an email to me!” Sally said “What did you say?”

“I said the only person who seemed to be distracted by a bid manager in a skirt was her, and then I showed them the bid plan and the example cost model with the two costings for that component we discussed”. I said.

“Ha! I bet that made her spat irrelevant!” Sally said.

“Well, yes, but…” I said.

“You’ve made an enemy for life and she will be sticking pins in dolls of you?” Sally guessed.

“Yes, but that’s not the end of it. Nicky never does anything without the approval of a director, recently she’s been buttering up Ray… he clearly put her up to it!” I said.

“There’s no proof, I assume?” Sally said to herself. “OK, let me know if there is more of that. Keep a set of contemporaneous notes, with a list of witnesses. Hopefully, it will blow over.”

I felt relieved. Technically, Ray was Sally’s boss. But, Sally had been with the company for over twenty years, she had shares in the company and her long-term partner was one of the original architects of the command centre systems we sold. Although Ray had the job title of ‘Sales Director’ he was an employee, not an owner - and still on probation. With Sally’s support, I was confident Ray wouldn’t be a problem for me.

“Also,” Sally went on, “give Nicky an outline of the covering letter that you need and a hard deadline of when you need it by. Then write your own covering letter and I will sign it off on her behalf if she doesn’t deliver on time!”

“Argh, I hate this dicking around!” I said, “Why can’t people just, I don’t know, get on with things?”

“Nicky is young, pretty and ambitious. The only way she knows she’s winning is if someone else is losing. You, I’m afraid, painted a target on your back for everyone who needs a scapegoat, by wearing a skirt” Sally said.

“You’re wearing a skirt, too” I pointed out.
“And don’t think I don’t get picked on too! Why do you think there are so few women in our industry? But, I think the rest of the bid managers will back you up, I know I will” Sally said, “I can’t help thinking that one of the reasons that you are dressed this way is to fit in with your colleagues, I noticed you’d changed the diagram for the bid process so that all the stick-men for the bid managers were stick-women!”

“I just wanted to differentiate them from technical consultants and salespeople!” I said “all the rest of the bid managers are female.”

“Well, it made me smile. And now you truly are ‘one of us’,” Sally said “Do what the rest of us do, convince them that even if we don’t wear the trousers, we’re still in charge of the bid!”

-+-+-

The rest of the day went by without further drama. I left at the same time as the other bid managers, which was about an hour earlier than normal for me, and I headed back to Taunton to pick up my kids for the weekend.

Chapter 2 - Falling

I had the soundest night's sleep I had had in a long time, that night, and I awoke refreshed, optimistic and happy. I wasn't in love, don't be silly, but it was almost like... in the back of my mind... I was thinking about how Jez would feel. Writing lines for her as if she was a character in a play. Thinking how to role-play her, in the game.

At work I had the eerie feeling that there was someone else in my head with me, looking out through my eyes and commenting in the voice of a young woman...

Oh wow look at Gillian! I wish I had the confidence to wear something so fashion-forward!

Only someone who's never spoken to me would think I want anything to do with talking flipping football!

Luckily the conversations were all in my head, but it did feel like I was starting to go a bit mad. I don't know how I made it through the day, let alone the long drive home that evening. I popped a microwave dinner in to cook as soon as I got home and started my laptop booting.

I retrieved my dinner when the microwave beeped and sat down to eat with the laptop by my plate. I logged on to Second Life as I started eating. Fee wasn’t online yet, which was fine by me, I needed to go shopping. I didn’t have any spare money in RL so I would have to hit the freebie store.

I’d found a store that gave away stuff for free, there were sections where the better quality items were for sale but they cost Linden Dollars (L$). Although L$ were only in-game tokens they cost real dollars to buy them. Linden Labs, the company behind Second Life, posted exchange rates on their website, to convert US dollars (USD) to L$ and back. I had read somewhere that the economy of Second Life at that time was roughly equivalent to a small country. I’m guessing that was hype, or a very small country. Anyway, the freebie store was a bit like a thrift shop, I guess. Lot’s of rubbish, but a few gems.

Fee sent me a message while I was shopping and asked me what I was doing. I told him I was at ‘Freebie Island’, trying to make myself look beautiful for him! I had no idea where that came from, it just sort of popped out. I guess Jez was a bit of a flirt.

Fee asked if I'd like to come and join him, of course I said yes and soon i had teleported to his side, or 'TPed’ as Fee called it. All around us there were pictures of naked women, I wondered what the hell was going on?

“I thought I'd buy you a new skin” said Fee. “I got one for myself and I thought you should have one too.”

I looked at Fee’s avatar and it was certainly looking a lot better, more like a person than a cartoon. A very good-looking person.

I wandered around looking at all the pictures until I found a very sweet and demure looking face, with just a hint of humour around the eyes (maybe I was projecting some of Jez’s personality onto it).

“How about this one?” I asked Fee.

“You sure?” he replied “It’s only L$100, I can get you one of the more expensive ones with all the different makeup options?”

“Fee…” I said “I don’t even know what L$100 is in real money, you know? How much would it cost in RL?”

“Oh, just a few pennies…” he replied airily.

“This one is fine, it’s very generous of you to offer, especially as I don’t have any linden dollars of my own and I’m unlikely to have any spare cash to get any soon…”

“How come?”

“Well…” my mind span quickly, I didn’t want to tell him that all my cash went to my ex-wife as maintenance… “I’m a single parent and all my spare cash goes on my kids, you see. I’m only playing SL as an escape because it’s free to play and I can’t afford to go anywhere in RL.” Strangely, not a word of what I said was a lie but it made me sound like some kind of lonely single mum.

“Well, a tenner here or there is no problem for me, so the few pennies to see you look pretty is nothing…. Why don’t you get yourself looking good and I’ll find the spot I wanted to show you?”

I’d found a spot where I could open the packages items came in and get a bit of privacy to try things on when I was looking through the free items earlier, so I went there and read the instructions for using my new skin, soon my avatar was naked and looking much more realistic, in fact…

“I have a vagina!” I blurted out in the instant message window I had open to Fee.

“Lol” said Fee “Are you nearly ready?”

“Huh!, I bet you’d like that! Seeing my naked avatar!” I retorted indignantly.

“Hmmm, maybe later?”

“Grr” I typed as I hurriedly added the various layers of clothing to my avatar, undies (simple white bra and panties), cropped tank top and bootcut jean with high heeled shoes. Nothing fancy but it looked ok, then long blonde hair in a thick braid down my back and a pair of glasses.

Why the glasses? I clearly didn’t need them to see in SL… I thought they made Jez look more like me, I’ve worn glasses all my life and I feel naked without them. Plus… I thought they gave Jez’s face more character, she looked too much like a cartoon of a fashion model without them, too perfect.

I took a deep breath in RL as I checked my avatar before I typed “Ready” in the IM window to Fee.

****

When I appeared a second later in front of Fee he had on his new skin and he was well dressed in smart casual clothes. He took a second to respond and then he said:

“Wow, that was worth the wait and the new skin just makes you look amazing!”

“Er, thanks… I’m not used to getting compliments like that.”

“Oh? I’m sure that’s not true, maybe you just blank them out?”

“No… I don’t look like this in RL… I’m older and fatter and plainer. After the separation I kind of let myself go and I was never beautiful to start with!”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

My mind was working overtime as I was conversing with Fee, trying to figure out who Jez’s alter-ego in RL would be like. I didn’t want to break the spell of what I had with Fee by forcing him to understand I was a guy in RL. I wanted to keep playing the role of a woman. I’d often played the female magic user in our D&D campaigns with my friends. It just made sense, tactically to have at least one female character in any campaign and I tended to avoid the fighter class as they tended to have such limited options. Magic users and thieves tended to thrive on their wits, which suited my game play. Plus it led to more interesting role play if my characters were not one dimensional melee fighters. So I realised I needed a back story for Jez. Who was she in RL?

I wanted the alter ego to be similar to me in most respects. The only real differences would be gender specific things, it would make it easier to remember things and stay in character if I didn’t have to lie or make things up. So, as I was talking I was kind of building this mental image in my mind. My ex-wife was about my build, to the point where we would sometimes borrow each others clothes (It’s not what you think). She was 6 feet tall (that’s over 180cm) and looked a little like the woman from Farscape, I think her name is Claudia Black. So if I think of a name for her that will never be released to Fee but I will use as a label in my own head. Let’s call her ‘Cathy’. 6 foot tall, size ten feet and long dark wavy hair. I can tell all the stories about buying clothes in Long Tall Sally and having to buy shoes in Saxon’s that I know from my ex-wife. I wasn’t doing this consciously as I spoke to Fee, but my head was running ahead of my mouth - setting up the role play. I guess my subconscious had been musing over this all day as a lot of things fell into place in a split second. It took a lot less time to come up with this plan than to read about it here!

Cathy was shy around men and self-conscious because of her size and ‘handsome’ rather than pretty features. She lived for her kids and put up with shit from her ex-husband to give them the best opportunities. If I ever needed to think of how she looked I could use photos from my ex-wife. I was _not_ going to pass myself off as her and let Fee see those pictures to establish my bona fides as a woman because that had too many ways of going horribly wrong. Can you imagine if Fee came across my ex in the street and said “Hi!” to her? Too horrible to imagine.
Anyway, all this took less than a second to decide. I chatted with Fee as he led me deeper into the garden to where a blanket was laid out on the ground with a pink ball and a blue ball on it.

“Come and sit with me” Fee said as he sat on the blue ball. The ball vanished and Fee’s avatar sat cross-legged on the blanket in front of the pink ball.

I sat on the pink ball and Jez sat demurely on the blanket.as the pink ball vanished.

“Why don’t you click on the mat and see what poses you can find in the menu?” said Fee.

When I clicked my mouse on the mat we were sat on, a blue menu appeared in the top right of my screen. It gave me 4 options; “Single”, “Couples”, “XXX” and “Options”. I was intrigued, I clicked on “Single” and saw a few different names for seated positions (“Sit 1”, “Sit F”, “Sit M”, “Sit crosslegs” and so on). and a “Back” option. I went back to the main menu then down to “Couples”. The options included all sorts of couply things; “Sit1”, “Sit together”, “Sit leaning”, “Lay”, “Lay together”, “Lay on”, “Sleep”, “Kiss”, “Make out”, “cuddle”.... the list went on to another page, but I got the idea. I went back and chose the “XXX” menu. The list started with foreplay, missionary, doggy and went on over several pages including things that I had never heard of. Hurriedly I went back to the “Couples” menu and chose “Lay together”.

Fee and Jez shifted position until they were lying on their sides facing each other, each propped up on an elbow.

Fee asked me about my day and I started explaining that I was a Bid Manager for a software company. That seemed pretty safe and non-gender specific, particularly as every other Bid Manager in the company was female ( I have no idea why, even my boss was female, which was unheard of in the software industry).

Fee told me he was into 'Land Management’ I think he meant he was a farmer, but he was strangely coy about what he did for a living.

I honestly don't remember what we spoke about in much detail. I remember having to mentally double-check everything I said to see if a girl would say that, or say it that way, but I’m not sure how much attention Fee was paying to what I was saying. After a short while he started playing with the animation menu and before I knew it Fee’s avatar was kissing mine, chastely on the lips.

“Oops!” said Fee “I was just wondering what the other poses were…”

“Ha! You’d better not get any ideas about playing with the 'XXX’ menu!”

“Oh, you saw that one then?”

“I must admit, I’m a little intrigued… I know my new skin means that I have a vagina now, but do you even have a penis?”

“Not yet” he admitted “but I have seen some for sale! It’s just another attachment.”

I pondered that for a while, I didn’t want to have sex with Fee, but cyber-sex in Second Life? That’s just a lame form of cartoon porn, isn’t it? Just two cartoon characters getting frisky on screen for us to laugh at.

“I don’t know how I feel about it.” I admitted to Fee.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, doing ‘it’ with you in SL.”

“Sex? It’s not like you can get pregnant!”

“Hmmph, that’s not the point!”

“What is your point?”

What was my point? I’d watched porn on the Internet before, of course, I was a male adult with a computer, after all. But the idea of making porn, with another person virtually present was… disturbing, somehow. The fact that I would be expected to play the female role was not lost on me either. I just didn’t know if my imagination would hit me as hard with cyber-sex as it had when Fee massaged Jez’s feet that time. I was suddenly hit with a deep wave of loneliness and sadness. I couldn’t really put it into words. I certainly couldn’t explain to Fee, a big part of it was not wanting to lie to Fee, but he had made it pretty clear he didn’t want to hear the truth, he just wanted someone to play the game with. But this was the first adult conversation I’d had in such a long time that didn’t involve kids or work that it was… nice.

I’d missed that thrill of talking and flirting with someone friendly. As a guy with kids, slightly overweight and trapped in a job with stupid hours I felt like I was almost invisible. The only people who would really notice if I disappeared would be my kids if I didn’t turn up at the weekend to look after them and my boss if I didn’t turn up for work.

“Just hold me, for now” I typed, the words appeared on the screen without conscious thought.

Fee clicked on the menu and before I knew what was happening strong arms hugged Jez from behind as the two avatars sat on the mat.

I practically purred as I imagined how Jez would feel, engulfed in the warmth of his muscular arms, holding me close, his stubble against my ear.

We chatted for a few minutes more, I couldn’t tell you what about, and I grew more comfortable. Eventually I said to myself “F*** it!” and clicked on the menu for couples and choose “Make out”.

Fee stopped typing in mid-sentence.

“Mmmm!” he typed.

“Cat got your tongue?” I quipped.

“Mmm, no _Jez_ has my tongue! (in her pretty little mouth!) What brought on the change of heart?”

“Shut up and kiss me, you fool!”

“Hehe, as you command, my dear!”

I just watched the animation for a moment, Jez and Fee looked so happy in each other’s arms.

“Fee…” I started, not sure how I was going to continue “Can we…. just take it slow? I’m not sure that I’m ready for this. I’m in the middle of a shitty divorce and either this means something, like I feel it does, or it’s just pixels on a screen and you’d do better off going to a porn site. Either way… I’m not sure how I feel about this all”

“Shh, it’s fine, I understand, this is new for me too. Let’s just enjoy the animation for what it is and you can continue telling me what a creep your ex was?”

So we chatted into the night, me bitching about my ex, while swapping the gender pronouns - which coincidentally made more sense as most of the things like cheating and leaving me looking after the kids while she swanned off on her holidays were typically what you would expect the guy to do, I realised. All the while, Jez was falling for Fee, and the screen showed to the two of them making out, and I was just going with the flow.

Virtually Feminine - Part 3 - Friends

The next day was a Friday, it was a very busy day at work but I can’t remember what I was doing, it all seemed quite unimportant compared with my new life on Second Life.

I had to pick up my kids from my ex-wife by 8pm, which meant a long journey from work, watching the clock all the way,
I made it with 15 minutes to spare.

My ex-wife had a shark instead of a lawyer, whereas I had a succession of idiots. She originally wanted me to have the kids every weekend and every day of annual leave and bank holiday that I wasn’t working. But her lawyer spotted that 3 nights every week plus 20 days annual leave and several days bank holidays put her dangerously close to parity on the number of nights we had the children. So, at the last minute, as we were preparing to go into the court, she insisted that she must have some time at the weekend with them. I agreed to let her have every other weekend, but she only wanted every fourth Saturday night. Her lawyer had done the maths and figured that would mean I would have to pay over 35% of the normal maintenance payments if she had the children all the time. The move was so cynical, it stunned even me. But I had no one else in my life who meant as much to me as my kids so I took every opportunity I could to be with them.
She also demanded £105,000 cash. It wasn’t a divorce so much as a state-sponsored mugging.

I’d told Fee I would have the kids at the weekend and that I would be in touch when I could.

I picked up the kids and got them home, we had all the normal rigmarole with school uniforms and homework and cuddles and dinner and I got them off to bed. The next morning I got them up and we watched T.V. until their mother came to pick them up at midday. As usual, she was late, and the kids were starting to fret about being held in a state of readiness to go.

As my ex drove off I was left with a feeling of emptiness. I looked around the house, trying to summon the enthusiasm to tidy up and clean and do all the jobs I’d been putting off during the week. It took me less than five minutes to give in and go back upstairs to my room to boot the laptop and login to SL.

As expected, Fee wasn’t online, so I went exploring. At first I went hunting for more free outfits and accessories. As I was looking, someone IMed me; a message popped up in my window saying “Hi there, gorgeous!”. I wondered who it was and I clicked on the user’s name to see their profile. It was some guy who’s English was appalling. Before I could think what to reply I got another message from him saying “Take a look at this!” and a message popped up saying that he had sent me an image. I opened the image out of curiosity and there was a close-up of a guy’s penis. I tried to process that a complete stranger had just sent me a picture of his willy, wtf?

“What do you think of that?!” he asked me. What _did_ I think of that? I asked myself.
“It’s like a penis, only smaller” I sent back.
“Stuck up b!**h!” he replied and vanished with a whoosh. It took me a moment to realise his reply had been in open chat, rather than an IM and everyone nearby could read it.

“Haha! I don’t know what you said to him, but I am _so_ glad you managed to get that creep to leave” came up in a message from ‘Lovely Angel’.
“He sent you pictures of himself too?”
“Ha! Yes, and the same picture to every other woman here too, I’d bet. Wtf? Does he think that’s going to get him a date or something?”
“I think he’d need a bigger worm as bait if that’s what he was fishing for!” I replied.
“ROFLMFAO - so, what are you looking for?”
“My boyfriend likes to take me dancing so I was looking for formal wear so I look pretty for him.” I explained.
“How much of a budget have you got?”
“Budget? What is this ‘budget’ thing of which you speak? Freebies or nothing, I’m afraid!”
“Ah well, that narrows it down some… you’ve tried Freebie Island of course?”
“That was the first place I found”
“Have you tried Free Dove, Gnubie and New Citizens Inc?”
“Not yet, I’ve only recently come on SL and I don’t know where everything is.”
“Oh, ok… well, follow me then!”
With that she vanished and I got an invitation to TP to her new location. Lovely showed me around all kinds of fabulous places that it would have taken me months to find on my own and I got so much stuff my inventory must have been groaning at the seams.
“Isn’t there anything you want to get?” I asked her after a while “I appreciate the help, but I don’t want to take up your day.”
“Hehe, don’t worry about it, I love to take little newbies under my wing. Maybe one day you’ll do the same for someone else who’s looking lost!”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“So what do you do in RL?” I asked her?
She told me how she worked for a software company in the South-West of the UK in the Sales and Marketing team. I asked her a few leading questions and as I built up a picture of her in my head I started to get a bit panicky, thinking she might be one of my colleagues.
“Err, are you Sarah?” I asked her, at last, feeling it was better to ‘bite the bullet’ before things got out of hand.
“Who?” Lovely asked.
“Sorry, I just thought you might be one of my colleagues at work…”
“I don’t work with anyone called ‘Sarah’” Lovely replied.
“Phew!” I said “that’s just as well, it would have been too freaky to bump into someone from the office in SL!”
“I know what you mean!” said Lovely “No one in RL knows that I’m a stripper in SL!”
“Huh?”
“I strip for cash in SL, it’s just pixels, right?”
“Er, right...How does that work?”
“Well, it’s just another camping spot really, you get paid for standing in the same spot for a few minutes - L$10 per minute. The only difference is… your avatar must be female and at least semi-naked. Do you want to come see me dance?”
I agreed, a little too stunned to know what else to do and that was how I ended up at Benny’s Bar and Strip Joint.

A guy shouted out “Hi Lovely, how’s it going?” when we arrived.
“Just showing some fresh meat the grinder we call home!” she replied as she led me backstage to the performers’ changing room where a bunch of pretty girls were wandering around in a state of undress.
Lovely changed into a sexy nurse’s costume.
“The trick is to put on one outfit before you take off the other” she told me “that way, you’re never actually naked in public!”
“But, it’s just pixels, right?”
“Well, yes - I guess. But I still feel uncomfortable showing more flesh than I want in public!”
“Says the woman who brought me backstage to a strippers’ changing room, no offence ladies.” I said the last hurriedly to the other avatars around us. There was a chorus of “None taken!” and one “Mutual, I’m sure!” from the rest.
“Snerk” Lovely replied by IM instead of in open chat. “If you’re going to make comments like that you need to learn to carry out your conversations in IM, so no one else can eavesdrop!”
“Sorry” I replied in IM.
“Hmm, ok - you probably need to try this to understand… most sex in SL is in people’s heads. The naked avatars help some people visualise it, but the fact that there is actually a real flesh and blood woman talking to them is enough to get some of these guys off.”
“Get them off? You mean they’re all wanking?!”
“If I’m doing my job right they’re cumming, not just wanking, and they tip me!”
“So… it’s a form of prostitution?”
“Grrr!”
“Sorry, I’m just trying to understand!”
“No, I guess it’s a fair question, you are a noob after all - it’s… well, I guess it’s more like those sex lines? Where a guy sees an advert for a scantily clad lovely but he actually gets through to a librarian with a headset and never knows it. She's fully clothed in a call centre, he chats for a moment and then pays and goes away. Or rather, she takes his payment details first, chats, and he goes as soon as he can to stop paying.”
“Er… ok, I don’t know anything about that stuff”
“Snerk, little miss virgin knickers. I don’t either, IRL, but I saw a film once, a romcom, and I’ve picked up the idea from the other girls here.”
“So… do you have to audition or anything?”
“Well, if one of the others vouches for you then you’re in, basically. We add your name to the list, then you can camp on a pole, a tip jar will rez and the punters will pay you via the tip jar, that way the club takes a cut.”
“So they automatically take something like an agents fee?”
“Lol - ‘agents fee’. You’re not performing Shakespeare out there, although, Lord knows, some of the lines you hear were old when Shakespeare was alive!”
“Can I watch what you do?”
“Sure! That’s what I brought you here for, I’m kind of proud of our little club and I felt like showing off for you, a bit.”

Ok, I thought that was a bit weird. How many girls try to show off to other girls by stripping in front of them? Nevertheless I followed Lovely out and took a seat in the audience. Lovely got up on stage and clicked on a stripper pole and soon she was whirling around and sticking out her butt while trading snarky comments with the other girls on stage.

Each time a new punter came through the door all the girls called out to greet him (sometimes her).
“Hi TurkishSexGod, how’s it hanging?”
“Georgie! I haven’t seen you in an age! Come take a seat by me, sweety!”

Lovely opened up a group chat in IM with me and two of the other girls. I didn’t know, at the time, how she did that but soon we had a private chat going.
LovelyAngel > This guy wants me to leave the bar and become his sex slave
JazzyJustine> And he’ll pay you for this? How many Lindens?
LovelyAngel> Pfft, as if - he expects me to do it fer lurv, ffs
JazzyJustine> What’s in it for you?
LovelyAngel> He’ll pay for my bondage gear… No wait, lol - he wants me to supply my own bondage gear!
JazzyJustine> Tell him you’re Benny’s bitch already!
LovelyAngel> I’ll tell him _you_ are _my_ bitch. At least that will get him to finish quickly and leave.
AshlynnDuprieve> Can you tell him to be your sex slave? There can be good money in being a domme.
LovelyAngel> Really? And how did you come by the snippet?
AshlynnDuprieve>
LovelyAngel> lol

This stuff went on for a little while - I tried to chip in with a comment from time to time, but I was so scared of being outed and a little freaked still that I had thought Lovely might be a colleague. Even if she wasn’t a colleague it was a little freaky to think that someone I walked past in the street could be a stripper in SL.

After about 30 minutes of listening in on the girls bitching about the punters, which gave me a fascinating insight into the relationship between strippers and marks - most were despised but a few, who gave tips when they could and were respectful when they couldn’t, were treated as friends, I got an IM from Fee. He invited me back to the garden. I made my excuses to the girls, said good night to Lovely and thanked her for her help and then TP’d to Fee. Lovely sent a parting IM after I TP’d - “Look who’s got a hot date tonight! I’ll try not to be _too_ jealous!” and sent me a ‘Friend request’. I didn’t have to think long to click on the ‘Accept’ button and Lovely was the second name in my Friends list after Fee.

When I appeared in front of Fee he had a new outfit and looked better than ever. He triggered some HUD thing he just got and I got a request to give permission for my Avatar to be animated. I clicked ‘Yes’ and Fee engulfed Jez in a hug as Jez melted against fee, Lucky girl.

Fee led me off into the garden and we made out for a while. I’m not going to recount everything we typed to each other because, looking back over some of the snippets of text I saved from them I realise that it is meaningless drivel, unless you were there. To Jez, and, I guess to me while I was playing Jez, they were the sweetest endearments. To read them again now they still make my heart flutter. To an outsider, someone who wasn’t us, it could seem like a couple of adults pretending they were teenagers and he was trying to get into her pants and she was trying to keep him out, but not too hard…

Fee always said, if women didn’t want men to try and get into their pants they shouldn’t keep such interesting things in there.

We finally gave up when I was starting to fall asleep, my responses were getting further and further apart as I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I’ve no idea where that came from, normally my insomnia would keep me awake into the small hours.
We said good night, and I crashed into a dreamless sleep.

*-*-*

The next day I slept in late and my kids were returned to me in the afternoon. My ex dropped them off early, as usual. I cooked a Sunday roast and my Mum came to join us for dinner and help me get them to bed.

Then I spent the evening making sure their school uniforms were ready for the morning and preparing what I could for their lunch.
I got them up in the morning, got them to eat breakfast, got them dressed and finished preparing their packed lunch. I did all the little things parents have to do for small children (have you got your books, have you got your homework, have you got your shoes, are you sure?) and dropped them off at school. I wouldn’t see them again until Friday.

At work I was getting that strange feeling like someone else was watching what I was doing from behind my eyeballs, and commenting. I started noticing what shoes and fashions my colleagues were wearing and wondering if I could put together a look in SL based on what I was seeing.

I started realising how sad my life at work was, how few friends I had there. I mentioned this to Anne, the PA of Chris, our development manager while I was sat outside his office waiting for him to finish a phone call so that we could review the latest cost model for a bit of development work.

“What do you mean?” she asked me.

“Well, it’s my birthday tomorrow, and I bet no one here knows or cares.” I said sadly.

“Ha! I think you may be wrong!”

“Why do you say that?”

“Wait and see, wait and see…”

Before I could ask her any more I got called in for the review.

*-*-*

That evening I got home at about 8pm after a long drive and I plugged in my laptop and started the bootup process before I got a microwave dinner and popped it in to cook. I was logging on to SL as my dinner cooked and I ate at the table with my laptop next to my plate as I went hunting for new outfits for Jez.

Fee came online at about 9pm and asked me what I was doing. I hadn’t realised how late it was getting and I wasn’t ready to present my new outfit to him. I’d figured out, with a few pointers from Lovely, how to save a folder as an outfit so I could quickly change and I swapped back to a simple jeans and tshirt outfit so I could hurry to meet Fee. He asked me about my day and I kind of fobbed him off with a general reply about my boring work and then I perked up as I told him about hunting for shoes. He laughed and told me that I should get a long dress and he would take me out dancing again. We chatted and explored for a while and then he had to go.

As I was about to log out Lovely came on line and asked me what I was doing. I explained that it was getting late and I needed to be at work in the morning. She said, “OK, but there’s something you might want to do before you sleep… let me TP you”

I appeared in front of Lovely and she was dressed as an angel. A slightly slutty angel in a short white dress, but the wings and the halo were a dead give-away.
“I know you aren’t ready to join me at Benny’s yet”
“Er, no… I guess I need to talk it through with Fee and see what he thinks of it all…”
“Does he _own_ you?!” Lovely asked sharply.
“Don’t be absurd! But if he started stripping and didn’t tell me I would be a bit upset!”
“Oh girl, you’ve got it bad! Don’t worry, it affects a lot of noobs this way at first.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Hmm, it’s kind of hard to explain, but I’ve seen it before. I can sort of remember it when I first came on but it wasn’t so bad in those days… It’s kind of intense, you know? You let down your guard, because you’re safe at home in your bedroom all alone. And then, before you know it, you’ve given your heart to some ‘playa’ who’ll just trample on it.”
“It’s not like that, Fee’s not like that!”
“Really? I hope you’re right, but what do you know about him, really?”
I was stumped, I knew next to nothing about him and, thank god, he knew exactly _nothing_ about me.
“Nothing” I typed back simply “But, he knows nothing about me either, I’m being careful.”
“Oh sweety, no one is that careful when they first start… before you know it you have real feelings for them and then things get messy. I’ve seen people come online for the first time, fall in love, partner in SL, meet IRL and end up with one of them stalking the other until the police get called in, and all this took place in 2 weeks!”
“But…” I thought about it for a moment, she was right, I guess. Jez was falling for Fee and taking me with her. Who knew how far down the rabbit hole things would go before I straightened the mess out in my head?
I started again “But, Lovely, I _lurv_ him (giggles)”
Lovely “Snerked”, “Yes, I’m sure you do, and that’s what worries me… promise me you won’t meetup in RL?”
“Lovely, I think he lives in Kent, and I can absolutely promise you he won’t want to see the real me in RL after he’s got used to seeing Jez’s skinny butt in SL! I’ll be careful, I’m really wary of meeting _anyone_ in RL, even you!”
“Good, not that I was going to offer - but you’re learning. Anyway, I found a camping spot for us, sit on the pole on the left and I’ll sit on the pole on the right…”
“My left or your left?”
“They’re the same left you doofus!”
“Oh, I must be blonde in SL!”
“:-P”
We both sat on the poles and our avatars started dancing. A message appeared over each of our heads with a countdown saying we would be paid $L10 in 10 minutes, 9mins and 50 seconds, and so on.
“Ok, so what are we being paid for?”
“Beats me, this place is deadsville, I never saw anybody else here. One of the girls at Benny’s told me about it. I just leave my AV here to get some free lindens.”
“Yeah, but it’s got to be coming out of someone’s inventory somewhere? What if they IM me and ask for it back?”
“Don’t give it to them?” Lovely suggested. “Look,” she continued “Don’t sweat it, this is how people buy ‘traffic’. SL records how many people spend how long in an area and the more ‘traffic’ they have the higher up the rankings their adverts appear.”
“Huh?”
“They’re just using you to push their advertising, honey, like guys have done with pretty girls for centuries. Shake your tush, take the dough, and smile - it’s that simple, don’t overthink it or make it more complicated than that. Now… leave your PC running, turn off the screen if you want, check in in the morning, accept the cash and have a good night’s sleep, you’re welcome.”
“Thanks, Lovely, I don’t know what to say, my first steps in stripping!”
“Don’t flatter yourself! This is just camping, now get to sleep girl, we’ll talk soon.”
“Good night, Lovely .”
“Good night, Jez .”
I left the laptop running and went to bed. That night I dreamt I was Jez, dancing round the strippers’ pole.

*-*-*

The next morning I woke up and hurried to get ready for work. I couldn’t remember why my laptop was still on when I saw it, at first. When I checked what was running I found that Jez had been booted off the pole for inactivity, but I had L$20 in my account. That and £2.80 would buy me a cup of coffee in Starbucks, as my friend John would say.

*-*-*

When I got into work I found a huge chocolate fudge cake on my desk and a card from Kathryn. Kathryn was a project manager, an American, who worked with Chris’s team. I guess that’s what Anne was trying to tell me. I rang her up and thanked her profusely and asked her to come round to my desk and have some cake. Once she and I had had a slice each, I offered it round to my other colleagues, I got a few knowing comments from some of them.

The rest of the day went by fairly uneventfully. I knew that Kathryn and I were normally two of the last people out of the building, we were both single, so I cleaned the plate and the knife she had left on my desk and I went looking for her.

I found her finishing up her work. I gave her back her stuff and, taking a tight rein on my courage, I asked if she would like to see a film that week. She grinned wryly and said that she always felt weird going to the movies by herself, but she really wanted to go see the latest Pixar movie.

“Won't that look a little weird, two grown adults going to see a kids film?” I asked.
“Not if we go to the evening show, all the kids should be in bed!”
“Ok, I'm up for that, let me pick you up on the way from work and drop you back home after”
“But you live miles away in the opposite direction, that makes no sense. I'll drive myself and meet you there, then I can drive myself home afterwards”
“Ok, I guess that makes sense. What day works for you?”
“It will have to be Thursday, because we have the ICCS proposal to get out on Wednesday evening.”
“Oh yeah, me too, ok Thursday it is, I'll buy the tickets on the way home tonight so we don't have to queue.” I said, with a slight question in my voice.
“Excellent idea! Ok, well… I'm packing up now… I'll see you tomorrow?”
“Sure, i need those numbers for the labour element.”
“Good night then!”
“Good night, Kathryn”

I left, with a smile on my face and a bounce in my step. I had a date in RL for the first time since the divorce, 2 years ago. Still, there was something… odd about the conversation. It felt like there was something I was missing.

Virtually Feminine - Part 4 - Home

That night, as I was driving home, I played through the conversation with Kathryn in my head. I didn’t know whether to be excited or nervous. But something about Kathryn’s reactions made me cautious. I like going to the movies, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not exactly ideal for a first date for two adults. There’s limited opportunities to sit and chat, and get to know one another, which is a pretty fundamental part of dating. I couldn’t imagine touching a work colleague in the dark in a potentially inappropriate way without clearly understanding how she stood. I wasn’t sure whether it was a ‘date’ date or just two colleagues going to see a kids film together.

Meh…

Still, it would get me out of the house, and that could only be a good thing.

I got home, slammed a microwave dinner in and fired up my laptop. I finished putting together my formal outfit that Lovely had helped me with and ate my dinner while I waited for Fee to show up. He was late and I was getting anxious when he finally came online.

“There you are, darling! I was beginning to worry!”

“I’m so sorry, Jez. Something unexpected came up.”

“Nothing wrong, I hope?”

“No, nothing like that… it just took me longer to get away than I expected. How was your day? Where are you, do you want to TP to me?”

“I’m at the camp fire, and I’m all dressed up ready for you to take me dancing, like you promised. Hurry up and get changed! It’s my birthday in RL so you have to be nice to me :-P”

“Why didn’t you tell me! I would have got you a present!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you, silly. Now get changed and your present to me can be your company on the dance floor.”

“As my lady commands! Give me a moment and I’ll TP you.”

It didn’t take Fee five minutes to get ready. He sent me a message asking me to join him. He had a classic James Bond-style tuxedo on, I had a gown designed to look like it came from the red carpet at the recent Oscar’s ceremony. I appeared on the edge of the dance floor at Frank’s jazz club.

Fee greeted me in open chat, and made sure everyone there knew we were a couple as he led me out onto the dance floor. He found two dance animations side by side, one pink ball and one blue ball and he stood waiting on the blue for me to join him. I quickly clicked on the pink ball and we started dancing to old Frank Sinatra tunes as Fee started to chat to me over private IM. I’ve never really listened to Frank Sinatra before that night, but dancing in Fee’s arms to ‘The way you look tonight’ and ‘Someone to watch over me’ was just so romantic.

“Your tux is very spiffy.”

“You look stunning, my dear.”

“Good job we’re not in RL then,” I said ruefully “I can’t dance and there’s no way I could look this good.”

“I love the woman inside, the one you’re only starting to let me see. I think you put yourself down too much, I’m sure you are beautiful in RL, too!”

I didn’t know what to say to that, I thought sometimes that Fee had figured out that I was only playing a role in SL, and then he went and said something like that.

“Oh, I’m going to a film with someone from work on Thursday”

“Should I be jealous?”

“It’s a female colleague, so I think you’re safe.”

“That’s alright then!... I know I have no right to be jealous, I know this is just a game to you…”

“No. It’s not that. It’s just, complicated… there’s things about my life, things about me, that mean you and I will never meet in RL.”

“I understand, you have your kids to protect and the business with your ex sounds horrendous, I’m not surprised you are protecting yourself like that. But I can still be here for you, if you’ll let me?”

“Oh Fee! I don’t know why you want to waste your time on this broken down old has-been… I really don’t deserve you!”

“I don’t know what I could have done to deserve you, so that makes us two undeserving sinners together. (kiss)”

Fee and Jez danced the night away, our private chat got more and more ‘mushy’ through the night and we stole virtual kisses as we danced. It was getting late, maybe after midnight, when Fee asked if I would like to come with him to see something he wanted to show me. I said ‘sure’, because I couldn’t imagine going to sleep the way the thoughts were whirling through my head still. We stopped dancing and Fee TPed away with a whoosh. A few moments later I got a message to join him, I clicked on the link and the club vanished, to be replaced by the most amazing sight. Fee stood in front of me, still in his tuxedo, in a grotto or cave, with stalagmites and stalactites, a stream ran down the middle of it. The light had a greenish tinge, but it wasn’t dark.

Fee led me a short way deeper into the cave to a rug on the floor with a number of scattered cushions all around. Beyond his shoulder I could see a small building, either a temple or a shed or summer house of some kind. Fee clicked on the rug and a pink and a blue ball appeared. Fee lay down on the rug, with his arms held in an inviting manner and the blue ball vanished. I clicked on the pink ball and jez sank into his arms.

“I’ll get my beautiful dress all crumpled!” I said, the formal dress that moved so nicely while I was stood up looked ridiculous now I was lying down with various panels sticking out in different directions, some of them apparently intangibly sticking through Fee and me.

“Take it off, then.” Fee said “It’s not like there’s anyone else here to see us.”

“Ha, so that’s your game!”

“You want to play it with me?”

“Grr… well, maybe a little…” I clicked on the skirt of the dress and detached it. I was still wearing the hose and undershorts, they were called ‘glitch pants’ in the inventory, so it looked like I was wearing a glittery body suit.

I clicked on the rug to see if it would let me control the animations. There were the usual ‘Sit1F’, ‘SitM’ stuff, an ‘XXX’ menu, ‘Couples’ and, at the end, a button labelled ‘Story’. I clicked on it and there were 4 buttons; ‘Kiss’, ‘Closer’, ‘Denouement’ and ‘All’, I clicked on ‘All’. Fee and Jez started moving into a tighter clinch. Unlike other animations when Fee and Jez had made out, this one was almost like watching a scene from a movie; instead of just kissing the two avatars moved against each other and their hands roamed over each others bodies as they kissed. The movements were not repetitive and they appeared to build towards a greater level of intimacy as I watched. There was a moment, when it felt voyeuristic to see the two avatars in this way. Then there was a moment of disorientation when my viewpoint changed and I began to think of Jez as being ‘me’. It’s very hard to describe. I didn’t vanish into the game magically or any of that nonsense. It was like, if you’ve played any kind of video game, particularly a first-person shoot-em-up for any length of time you begin to talk about “he shot me” or “I got him”. You see the game, the battle, from the viewpoint of your character on the screen.

In a similar way, I was beginning to see Second life, and in a strange way my relationship with Fee and the real person behind him and, by extension, the rest of the real world, from the viewpoint of Jez.

“Ah, you found the Story mode…” Fee said.

“What is the story?”

“I’m not sure, I didn’t play it through to the end, but it seemed intriguing to me when I found this place earlier.”

Fee rolled over on top on Jez at that moment and his movements looked as though he was undoing buttons.

“Intriguing? Riiiiight” I typed back, mildly amused. “Oh, what the hell, it’s only pixels, right?” I removed the top of the dress as if Fee had succeeded in undressing Jez in the way the animation suggested. Jez’s nipples were now clearly visible, but her bottom half was still covered. Jez rolled over on top of Fee and the animation showed her starting to undo his shirt.

“Oh my…” said Fee, as his jacket vanished. As Jez worked her hands down his body and got to his waist the shirt vanished too and he was naked to the waist.

“How far does this animation go?”

“Er, I’m not sure… We can stop if you are uncomfortable?”

“It’s not that, not really. It’s not real, right? Just us looking at an animation together…” Jez started working on the imaginary buttons on her waist as Fee started kissing her neck. I was starting to get a little turned on by it all. “It’s just, well, I don’t know how to put this delicately… Fee hasn’t got the equipment to go much further, has he?” I blushed in RL as I asked.

“Well, if Jez keeps doing that…” Fee said as Jez’s hands were moving down his body now she was down to her knickers and hose, “then you’re going to find out soon!”

Fee’s trousers vanished, then his shoes.

“Fee” I said, “you can lose the socks too, nothing sexy about a man in his socks!” The socks soon vanished too. Pretty soon the two of us are down to our underpants and knickers. As the animation makes Jez take down Fee’s underpants I am shocked when they suddenly vanish and a moment later a large erect penis suddenly appears in front of my avatar.

“Too much?” asks Fee.

“Let’s put it this way… if this was RL then I wouldn’t let you within 10 feet of me with that deformed monster. I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to do any real damage with that to Jez, though!”

“Snerk. I was afraid I might offend you…”

“Offend? No, it’s cute that you thought you needed to buy a strap-on for your Ken doll. I trust you didn’t model it on yourself?”

“Er… no, not exactly”

“Oh?”

“No, mine is bigger in RL…”

“ROFLMFAO!” as I hit return on the comment my avatar suddenly spasmed into a crazy laughing animation and a bizarre braying noise came out of my speakers. “What the hell?” I typed.

“Ha! You triggered a ‘gesture’” Fee said. I guess that’s the SL equivalent of spurting milk out of your nose when you laugh!”

“Eww”

“Still cute though”

The animation had restarted and Fee was naked, with an erect penis, kissing his way down my body and tugging at my knickers. I gave in and clicked on the option to take them off. They vanished, along with some of my inhibitions, and I decide to watch and enjoy the show as the two beautiful avatars gave Fee and I a show. It was just a little disorientating to identify with Jez and take the female role in this. I thought to myself what the hell, it’s not real - think of it like sharing a flicker book cartoons of stick men humping. How amusing is that going to look?

“Mmmm” Fee said, as his avatar buried his face in my newly bared nether regions.

“Eep!” I typed “you might buy a girl dinner first!”

“Chuckle. I thought all women liked foreplay?”

*-*-*

I want to draw a veil there. Not out of prudishness, nor shame. We were both adults and it was just an animation in a computer game, after all. I kept telling myself that as I got more and more aroused by what I was seeing on the screen and what Fee typed in the IM message box. It’s just… I can’t imagine how I can express to you in a way you can understand how much it affected me. Sex is very intimate. This, what I later came to call ‘cyber-sex’, was, in its own way, just as intimate as any physical act. Fee and I played out our roles, as lovers do, making up the words as we went. What started as a lark or a game became something much more intimate and affecting.

Whenever I have made love to a woman in the past (there have only really been two women that I have been so intimate with) I have kept my mouth shut and let my fingers do the talking.

With Fee, I had to find the words to express those feelings. I had to be much more explicit in what I was doing and why in order for us to build a story, build a fantasy together. It was in some ways, more intimate and more fulfilling than actual sex. Except for the physical release of course. And that was easily handled for both Fee and I by a visit from Mrs Palm and her 5 lovely daughters.

Without wishing to sully a beautiful moment of intimacy with such a tawdry thing, we both masturbated as we typed our fantasies out to each other, one handed.

-*-*-*-

Wednesday was a disaster of a day from start to finish and I want to gloss over it and move on. I woke with a smile and I couldn’t remember why, I was tired, but happy. Then I remembered why and I began with the second thoughts - what the hell were you thinking, what will he think of me, what do I think of him, what do I think of me, what the hell was I thinking!...

Over and over, round and round in a circle, sapping my energy.

I dragged myself into work and remembered that I had to finish the proposal I’d been working on for a month. The problem with my job is that everyone promises to meet their deadline and they all lie. Everyone down every stage of the proposal, coming up with the design, agreeing the prices, documenting the contract clauses, everyone; they all think that their bit is the most important and that they therefore have the right to be late as it can’t go to the customer without their bit. Each one is only a day or so late, but my job is to pull everything together. And that means, on the last day I have to do 5 days worth of work in one day. And that means, every proposal leaves the bid manager working until stupid o’clock to finish everything off.

Kathryn stayed late with me, the proposal was for work that she would be the project manager for. We were tired and punch-drunk when we left, at about 10pm and made our way home. We said goodbye in a friendly way, but nothing more than that..

I had pizza delivered at work for Kathryn and me to eat while we worked, so I didn’t eat when I got home. I watched 30 minutes of TV and went to bed at about midnight.

-*-*-*-

I slept in a little later than normal on Thursday, no one was going to complain after the extra time I put in yesterday. I rang our sales administrator on the way in to check that they had all the copies of the bid and the courier was picking them up on time.

The day was a bit of an anti-climax after all the excitement yesterday. I couldn’t really focus on anything new so I just made sure all the paperwork was in place and tidied away, ready for us to pick up again if we were short-listed.

As the day wore on I thought more about my upcoming date with Kathryn. I wasn’t sure that dating a co-worker was a great idea. However, with my life, where else was I going to meet a woman? I was driving, working, sleeping or looking after the kids. Not much time for socialising.

I rang Kathryn at 5pm to check everything was still ok. She confirmed that it was and we arranged to leave the carpark at the same time to drive to the cinema. It seems daft that we drove 25 miles to a cinema, but it was handy for the motorway and on my way home. If I’d known the area around work better I would have suggested somewhere closer, it would have been less distance and I could have offered her a lift, maybe got invited in for coffee afterwards…

I hastily shut that thought down, time enough for that if and when I found that there was something real between us. I still couldn’t help feeling that there was something a little ‘off’ about this date.

We got to the car park and parked up. We went and stood in the queue and bought our tickets. Kathryn was like a little kid, she wanted popcorn and a big drink. The film was good, a typical Pixar movie, with gags for the grownups as well. Kathryn grinned like a fool and got teary eyed at all the relevant bits. Even my eyes got a little misty sometimes.

At no point did she touch me. All the way through the evening there was no real flirting, In fact, there was less flirting than she normally did at work.

When I suggested that we go for a drink together after the movie before we went our separate ways she said that she was really tired and that we’d get together again at work.

So we said goodbye, which was awkward, no kiss, no handshake just… walked in separate directions to our cars. I was getting this weird vibe, so I didn’t push it, I just took my lead from her.

I let her leave first and then followed her to the motorway, I flashed my lights at her at she took the turn to head North and I headed South.

I had 30 to 40 minutes driving to think about what had happened as I drove home. I couldn’t figure it out. It was the strangest date I’d ever had. Was I so out of touch? This was the first date I’d been on since my divorce, maybe that was how grownups dated now, but I didn’t think so.

I felt kind of out-of-sorts and dissatisfied with life when I got home. I got out a microwave dinner and started up the laptop as it cooked. Maybe Fee could cheer me up?

I started eating as I logged in. The moment I got online I got a message from Fee.

“Baby! How was your day? Can you come over?”

“My day sucked… Sure, I would love to see you.”

Fee sent me an invitation to join him and I TPed over. I appeared in someone’s living room. There was a sofa, a chair and a log fire.

“Welcome home!”

“Huh?”

A message came up “Fee Avro would like to animate your avatar - OK?”, I clicked on the button and Fee and Jez hugged and kissed hello.

“Mmmm” I said “That makes my day so much better! Now… what’s this ‘Welcome Home’ about?”

“I rented a home for us!”

“Huh? You can do that? Of course you can do that, this is SL, you can do anything, right?”

“With a little money :-)”

“How much money?”

“I get it as part of my monthly stipend and a little extra, nothing really.”

“Nothing?” (It’s really hard to get across the idea of being sceptical in SL, but I think Fee got the idea).

“It’s just a little money, my love. Nothing to worry about.”

“Why do you need to rent a home, though?”

“Well...er...Privacy?”

“Privacy?”

“For when we… when you and I…_you_ know...”

The penny dropped for me.

“Sex?! You got a place so that I would have sex with you?”

“Er… yes? We could… if _you_ want to…”

Hehe, I could have so much fun with this, men are so easy!

“So you just _assumed_ that I would do THAT with YOU!” I said in mock fury.

“Sorry”

“I only have one thing to say to you!”

I paused…

“YES!” I said

“Yes?”

“After the day I’ve had? Yes, some sweet loving from someone who cares for me would...be just what the doctor ordered.”

Chapter 5 - Passing time

I'm not quite sure how best to continue telling this story. There were so many parallel streams of my life set in motion after my birthday, each of them so separate from each other that they almost felt like they were happening to different people at the same time like some weird version of synchronicity.

I found myself going from a humdrum, if busy, existence, to a busy whirl where I started to lose track of things unless I wrote them down.

I got myself my first smart phone with a keyboard, at about this time, and I kept notes and a calendar on the phone to help me keep track of my life. The smartphone also allowed me to talk to Fee while I was at work. I found a Second Life client app that would run on the phone. I couldn’t see the graphics, like I would on a PC, but I could send instant messages.

My life split into 4 paths with two protagonists, according to the notes on my phone.
From 8:30am to 8:30pm every weekday I worked or travelled for work.
Every weekend from Friday night until Monday morning I had my kids, Kevin and Rachael - they were the thing I worked for, my reason to keep breathing, my life. I would tell you all about them but… you probably aren’t interested in them, if you are reading this story. Also, I’m not very comfortable sharing personal information about my kids with (let’s be honest) complete strangers on the Internet. So, if it ever seems like I’m glossing over aspects of my relationship with my kids, like they aren’t important to me, then it’s because I’m deliberately leaving them out of my recollection.

But, I will admit, the rare times at the weekend, when I didn’t have the kids, or work, to worry about… in those time Jez began to blossom and have fun. In RL I scarcely remembered ‘fun’.

Every 4th Saturday and for 2 hours each other Saturday, while my ex’s parents had “grandparent time” with my kids, I spent time in Second Life with Fee at our home or role-playing in one of the many scenarios that Fee found around SL. He would tell me to take a little money from him and get the best medieval outfit I could, then he would take me to a castle ball set in medieval England, or some American’s fantasy of knightly courtship. Or he would take me on balloon rides over the African plains, watching elephants and giraffes. Or riding in Nemo’s Nautilus or any one of dozens of fantastic fantasies.

But the most surprising and fulfilling fantasy of all was when we just stayed home…
I would dress for him, and tease him and he would respond in the most delightfully ardent ways.

I can’t help smiling to think of the times we shared, making sweet cyber-love…

In the evenings, after work, Fee wasn’t always around (I wasn’t always around, either, my work regularly ran late, after 10pm). We didn’t stress about it, like some other couples on SL, we knew that, although we hadn’t pledged exclusivity, neither of us wanted to spoil what we had.

Fee normally went to sleep at 11pm, as he had to be up early. I found it increasingly hard to sleep at all, I would stay awake until 2am or later, almost as though Jez’s life had become a kind of waking dream for me. That left me with an awful lot of time in SL when Fee wasn’t around, and a girl can only spend so long hunting for bargain virtual shoes.

I would hunt for locations, like the ones Fee had found, I found a fabulous gardens with underwater grottos and ‘adult’ animations. I found venue after venue with every imaginable type of music and dancing.

As I wandered around SL I made friends, almost without thinking about it. Most of the people I spoke to were female, I didn’t need another man in my life as I had Fee. Also, they, like me, were often searching for shoes and romantic venues and the same faces started showing up whenever I was around. I met Saffy Capaldi at Frank’s Jazz club. She was dressed in a couture scrap of fabric that plunged here and there and would not have worked in RL unless it was stapled to her body. She moaned to me that all the men avoided her and I moaned that I had to beat them off with a stick. I always dressed very demurely at Frank’s.

“Maybe the men are intimidated by you?” I suggested to Saffy.

“But, I’m a pussy cat!” she complained.

“A pussy cat dressed like a tiger on the hunt! Have you _seen_ your avatar? Sometimes, with men, less is more!”

“Maybe you’re right… unless it’s boobs, then more is always more!”

I had to concede that point!

In RL Saffy was a 40-something housewife in Wales with Fibromyalgia and ME. Her husband had left her with 3 kids and just gone off and left her. We had a good bitch about ex’s, and we had a certain amount in common. But Saffy grumbled it wasn’t fair that I had a good man in SL and an ex who took care of the kids sometimes in RL.

-o-o-

I met Rifyanka at a BDSM club playing heavy metal and goth music. I was only there because the shop on that sim was selling killer black and red boots at a bargain price. Riffy was like a force of nature, she brought out my wilder side and got me to put together a ‘Neko’ (cat girl) outfit, that Fee enjoyed later, but that’s another story.
She took me to the ‘Hysteria’ sim and we walked through a post-apocalyptic landscape together until we found a playground and we played on the see-saw.

In RL Riffy was a nurse in the Netherlands. One evening when we were both drinking wine in RL after work while our avatars lounged on beanbags in her SL mansion, she told me she had been attacked by a colleague after work one night. It was the most difficult conversation of my life, for many reasons. I know female acquaintances in RL who have been pressured into sex or sexually abused in some way. But nobody had ever been so open and so graphic and matter of fact about being raped. Riffy explained all about her date rape experience and expected me to understand because we were both women and, in her experience, most of her female friends had been put in the situation where they had a choice to either give in to sex or risk the situation escalating into actual violence instead of some thinly veiled threat.
I have never felt less of a man, because I knew I should have told her I was male in RL before the conversation and I knew I could never let her know I was after the conversation. I'm not going to describe the details of what she told me. I couldn't make up a story horrible enough to compare and I will not ever discuss the details of her real story, even with names changed to protect both innocent and guilty parties.
The only thing I will say is some men are animals who should be locked away. And women, GG or trans, all women eventually grow to understand that some men see us as prey, just because of our gender.
Hmm, that's very telling, eh? That I identify as female now. Sometimes I'm not sure which side of the line I am.

-0-0-

Then there was Ute Beavoir, also known as ‘Beaver Girl’. For some reason she was bizarrely fascinated with beavers and Canada, she sent me an RL photo of herself with a stuffed toy beaver, I have no idea why. She was young, in her early twenties, I think and her life was a mess. She only came online when her real-life boyfriend went drinking without her. After a few weeks of chatting with her she told me she was now at a friend’s house having run away from her boyfriend and the town she grew up in with her parents. Her boyfriend was very possessive, jealous and border-line abusive. She wouldn’t tell her parents where she was because she didn’t want her boyfriend to find her. I felt sorry for the parents of this wild-child so I tried to convince her just to send them a text message to let them know that she was ok, but not to talk to her boyfriend. She vanished from Second Life for a week or two. The next time she came online I had to talk her out of taking pills with alcohol, she was drunk and feeling depressed and felt no one cared if she lived or died. I told her, of course they do… I did, I loved her as a friend and she shouldn’t do anything she would regret in the morning. It was a very intense 40 minutes of conversation carried out in online instant messaging. She would stop answering for minutes at a time. Eventually I talked her down, she agreed to drink some water and go to bed.
I spoke to her a few days later and she was earnestly apologetic. A few more days and she had a job and a new boyfriend and she was back to being her normal ditzy self. I never really understood what was going on, was this some form of self-indulgent drama, a game? Or was she really on the brink of suicide and I talked her round. For a part Turkish German citizen she had extraordinarily good English, especially considering how drunk she seemed to be. You could never be sure in a virtual world who you were talking to in real life. Who was on the other end of the conversation?
But this was a thing in Second Life that I have noticed again and again. People, myself included, are very guarded in the real world. Second Life is a virtual world, you aren’t really there, it’s not real, it’s just a game, and so you can’t be hurt, you can always delete the account and create a new avatar and nothing you said or saw really matters. You are sat safe at home in your own bedroom, so you relax and are more open than you would ever be with anyone in real life.
The only problem is… it is real, they are real people, that you are talking to so openly in your bedroom, and there are more ways to be hurt than physically.

-0-0-

And, every night before I went to sleep, I set my avatar dancing on the stripper pole to earn a few Linden Dollars. Every now and then, when Fee wasn’t around and I needed a little extra to afford an outfit for him I would work at Benny’s Bar, my avatar dancing on stage for tips. I found that private IM messages to punters could get you a massive tip. I say ‘I found’ it was Lovely Angel who taught me. Punters would start the conversation in a private chat window, while their avatar sat in the seats gawping up at the girls on stage. It wasn’t difficult to conceive that the young (and sometimes not so young) men behind the avatars sat at home in a semi-darkened room, typing one-handed as a real-life woman chatted to them, fuelling their fantasies. Even a tip of few hundred Lindens represented pennies in the real world, where sex chat lines would be pounds and could be subject (so I learned) to bizarre rules.
There were no such rules in SL, it was the wild west, and any topic of conversation was fair game.
A typical conversation might start like this:

RandomPunterBoy> Gosh you’re hot

Jez Weatherwax> Thank you <3 - I’m not anywhere as near as pretty as the other girls, but I’m happy to take a compliment, why don’t you sit down here in front of me by my tip jar and tell me more about what you look for in a woman?

RandomPunterBoy> What kind of knickers are you wearing?

Jez Weatherwax> Can’t you tell, you naughty boy, this dress is far too short to hide them :-P

RandomPunterBoy> No, I meant in RL

Jez Weatherwax> Oh, I never wear knickers in RL…

There would be a pause and then RandomPunterBoy would pay a few Lindens and vanish. It would make me smile to think of a pimply faced virgin youth cuming prematurely at the thought of a real woman he would never meet in RL ‘going commando’.

And talking of RL, that brings me back to Kathryn and an entirely more embarrassing relationship.

You may remember, I said I was unsure of her motivation to date me. I found out the week after my birthday. She had heard from Anne that I had tiled my bathroom before Kevin was born and that I still had the tools She had thought that if she went in a date with me, she could convince me to help her with her 'feminine wiles’. Then she spent a little time with me and she realised I was a nice guy who would probably help her out if she just asked nicely, so she did. Once I agreed I got friend-zoned so fast I seriously wondered how I could have ever thought there was anything more between us.

She invited me over to her house for dinner so that I could see what she had in mind. She gave me the address and I used the sat-nav on my phone to find it. It was a few miles away from work in the town of Malmesbury in Wiltshire. Malmesbury is weird, part of the center of the town is kept as a kind of museum of British architecture by the local planning department. I found that Kathryn’s house was a ‘listed building’ which meant she had to keep the front of it looking like it did 200 years ago.

So there was no parking, the house had a front door straight out onto the pavement.

I parked about quarter of a mile away and walked back to the house. I knocked on the door (there was no doorbell. It took a while for Kathryn to open it and I was beginning to wonder if I had the wrong place. She let me in wearing shorts and a scruffy T-shirt, her hair was tied back in a rough pony-tail and she looked smudged and bedraggled. As I stepped through the door I could see why, the room beyond the door looked like a building site, with broken stone flags on the floor and furniture stacked in a haphazard fashion to give access to the work going on.
Kathryn gave me the tour, it didn’t take very long. The downstairs consisted of a large room and a small alcove for the old kitchen, a bit like a covered porch to the triangular area at the back of the house that let light in. Normally there would be a back garden, I guess, but the area was a triangle of concrete approximately 10 feet on each side. There was a tiny steep set of stairs against the back wall of the main room with no banister or protection to stop you falling. We went up, with Kathryn leading the way. I knew I was friend-zoned, but it didn’t stop me enjoying the view as I followed her closely up the steep stairs, her pert denim-clad bum scant inches from my nose.
As we got to the top of the stairs I was introduced to Joe, Kathryn’s pug. She explained that he was too frightened to go down the stairs to the living room now since he had had a nasty fall a couple of weeks previously. The dog was clearly a lot smarter than he looked, because the stairs were so narrow and so steep they were little better than a ladder.
The room we came into from the stairs was in chaos.

‘I’m putting a decent kitchen here” Kathryn explained. She pointed out where the work surfaces, sink, oven and hob would go. There was a table and 2 chairs already by the window looking down on the street at the front of the house.
‘So, we won’t be cooking here tonight’ I said with a smile, looking at the space where the kitchen would go.
‘No, we’ll get takeaway, what do you fancy?’
‘Is there a Chinese in town?’
‘Sure, we’ll walk down in a minute’
Kathryn walked over to the stairs up to the next floor and headed up…

The top floor of the house was in stark contrast to the rest of the house. It didn’t look like a building site. The room was dominated by a massive bed with an overstuffed duvet in bedding covered in a delicate floral pattern in blues and pinks. The carpet was oatmeal and fluffy and the room seemed like a very feminine retreat from the rest of the world. The room was clearly right under the roof and the eaves sloped down sharply over the bed. There was an en-suite bathroom in a tiny room off the main room.

The sloping eaves took much of the usable space away from the room. There was a bath in there but it was of a peculiar design. Very short and very deep, almost like a shower tray with delusions of grandeur. The taps were on the end furthest from the outside wall with a shower attachment so that the tallest part of the ceiling was over it. Which was good, because there was no way even Kathryn would have been able to stand at the other end, with how the ceiling sloped.
Kathryn showed me the tiles she had already bought. They wouldn’t have been my choice and I could tell they were going to be a bitch to fit. They were larger than normal and thicker too. I did ask her if she wouldn’t like something smaller, which would make it easier to tile the awkward space, but she was adamant that these tiles would look perfect once they were fitted.

We climbed back down the stairs and went to get the takeaway. I felt very over-dressed in my work suit when we were queuing in the take-away. Our conversation was a bit subdued until we got back to Kathryn’s house but it livened up once we sat down to eat. Kathryn insisted on trying some of my duck and I had some of her beef. I took off my tie before we went to get the food and I took off my jacket before we ate. Kathryn told me about her family in New York. I told her a little about my family and how I didn’t get on with my Dad.

-0-0-

The next day Kathryn was busy in the evening so after work I went to get a few bits I thought we’d need.
I gathered together my tools and some clothes ready for working the next night.

-0-0-

My mind wasn’t really on work the next day I was more interested in the tiling. I knew Kathryn didn’t really have any romantic feelings for me, she had managed to make that perfectly clear on the preceding Tuesday, without being obnoxious about it. But there was a kind of chemistry or connection between us, I just couldn’t figure out what it was and it was distracting me. Maybe it was just that I hadn’t been very social for several years, since my ex-wife walked out (walked out isn’t quite right, she conned me into hiring a van and helping her move all her stuff to a rented house. I was a sucker whenever the kids were involved).
It was really hot that day, I remember, and I was very glad of the air conditioning at work.
I met up with Kathryn at lunch time and we agreed to meet at her house. I had to park in roughly the same place as before and I knew it would take two trips to get all the items from the car to the house. I had several large heavy duty carrier bags to carry things like the tile cutter and spacers in. I managed to carry my folding work table as well and my working clothes. I had to put the table and some bags down when I got to the house in order to knock. It took a long time for Kathryn to open the door, but given the layout of her house I guess she had to come down two flights of stairs. We didn’t waste much time on pleasantries and I did another round trip to my car to get my toolbox and some other bits.

When I got back to the house I asked Kathryn where I could change into my working clothes and she said I could change in her living room as she took a bag up to the bathroom. I quickly stripped down to my underpants after she went up the stairs. It felt odd, being almost naked in a woman’s house after so many years being married and then being alone. I quickly pulled my shorts and t-shirt on. I also put my sandals on. I guess I took my cues from how Kathryn had been dressed on Tuesday.

She called out ‘Are you decent?’ as she came down the stairs.

We went upstairs and started work on the bathroom. There's nothing quite as tedious and fiddly as tiling. Tiling round the taps in particular took a ridiculous amount of time. I'm sure your eyes are glazing over as you wonder why I bothered to record this, but I'm getting to the point honestly. While I was working and chatting with Kathryn about nothing in particular I began to realise I wasn't chatting as Andy, I was chatting as Jez. Just two girls working together. How was that any different to chatting as Andy? Well, it's kind of hard to explain. I wasn't putting on a high pitched voice or discussing makeup (don't be ridiculous). But, whenever I've hung out with a woman before, there has been this tension. Are you going to make a move? What does she think of you? What are you doing to impress her?

This evening it was different. Kathryn had already friend-zoned me hard. Plus, I wasn't sure about my own sexuality or gender now, what with Jez and my boyfriend (Jez’s boyfriend?) We just kind of settled into this steady rhythm of chatting and working cooperatively together. I was better at the cutting and placing but Kathryn was better at spreading the grout. It was very hot and sweaty and there was very little room in the tiny bathroom so it got bizarrely intimate, very quickly. But that didn't stop us working. We took a break for dinner after an hour. We had take-away fish and chips and got back to work as quickly as possible. I don't know how we got onto the subject but Kathryn started telling me how one of her managers got sexually inappropriate with her. Coming so soon after my conversation with Riffy, I knew what she was talking about. But it was like Kathryn didn't want to admit to herself that he had done anything wrong and she had been the victim. She kept making excuses for him, saying she must have been sending mixed messages and she still liked him.
I wanted to hug her and let her know that she wasn’t alone, but I felt ashamed of my gender, that had treated her so shabbily.
So we sat there in awkward silence for a moment…
‘Fancy a cup of tea?’ I asked with a wry grin. I knew Kathryn despised tea and would only drink coffee.
‘We should have some beer’ Kathryn said firmly.
‘I have to drive home tonight’
‘That’s ridiculous, stay up here tonight, there’s no way it makes sense to drive a hundred miles home and then drive back…’
‘75’
‘What?’
‘It’s 75 miles, or 80, maybe…’
‘Whatever, drink the damn beer’
‘Ok?’
She got two bottles of Budweiser and we sipped from the bottle as we continued working.
‘Thanks’ she said.
‘For what?’
‘Not making a big thing out of it’
‘You won’t tell me exactly what ‘it’ is, although I can put two and two together, if you want to forget about it, that’s your choice. I won’t take that from you.’
‘Are you gay?’
‘What!? Where on earth did that come from?’
‘I don’t know. You’re not setting off my “gaydar”, I’m from New York, so I know gay when I see it. But you’re not… don’t take this as an insult, you’re not putting the same pressure on me as a guy would normally.’
‘Well, you made it very clear that you aren’t interested in me that way.’
‘That wouldn’t stop most guys…’
‘Jeez, full of yourself, much?’
‘I did say I was from New York. But seriously, you fancy me but you’re not staring at my tits.’
‘I wouldn’t be that obvious about it.’
‘You don’t have a girlfriend’
‘Is that a question or a statement? Have you been stalking me?’
‘Dammit, be serious for a minute. I like you, I do, but not like that… and I don’t understand it. You’re not gay…’
‘Er…’
‘You are gay?’
‘It’s… complicated’
‘You have a boyfriend?’
‘Not in real life.’
‘Well, that’s an unexpected answer...If not in real life, then where? Enquiring minds want to know’
I squirmed.
‘Second Life.’
‘The video game?’ Kathryn stopped to think for a moment ‘So, you have a gay boyfriend in Second Life?’
‘Ha! Fee is absolutely hetero.’
‘But...you’re a guy, he’s a guy...oooohhh! He doesn’t know you’re a guy?’
In a small voice I answered ‘No.’
‘You play a female in the game?’
‘I have a female avatar, yes. It’s quite common, I saw figures showing that 15% of female avatars have male users and 5% of male avatars have female users.’
‘But most of the time other users spot the GIRLs straight off?’
‘Girls?’
‘Guys In Real Life, a lot of games have them.’
‘Ha, most guys don’t give a shit, they just want a body to lie there and take it…’
‘A lot like real life, then?’
‘I’m so sorry, Kathryn, I didn’t mean to imply that I had any insight into what you suffered…’
‘Hmm, I think you have more insight than I knew into what it means to be female. It would explain a lot.’
‘What do you mean?’
Kathryn checked off points on her fingers ‘I like you, I really do, but I don’t want to have sex with you, I’m very comfortable talking to you about things that I wouldn’t normally discuss with a man, we work well together - you don’t do that guy thing and take over..’
‘Hey, it’s your house, your choice, I’m just here to help.’
‘Exactly, most guys I know would take over from the little woman and tell her what she actually wanted all along but didn’t know it. And then expect sex as a thank you.’
‘Well, if you’re offering…’ I said with a smirk.
‘Ah, so you’re Bi?’
‘Honestly, I don’t know what I am. I’d just like a hug in real life’ I said ‘I’m pathetic.’
‘Ah, Fee doesn’t know you’re a guy, so you can’t turn up in real life for a weekend of fun and frolics?’
‘Oh good god No!’ I said with feeling ‘If he didn’t kill me on the spot he’d…Well, I don’t honestly know what he’d do.’
‘Has he offered to come and see you? In real life?’
‘Er, yes.’
‘So it’s real love?’
‘Pfft, with a pixel doll and a fucked up guy.’ I said bitterly.
‘But, you love him?’
I didn’t say anything, I didn’t move.
‘You do, don’t you?’ She persisted.
‘I…If….If I were a real woman in real life then regardless of how either of us look we would get together.’

Out of nowhere it suddenly hit me, how miserable and pathetic my silly fantasy made me and the tears started flowing.
‘Oh, I’m going to need more beer for this…’ said Kathryn and she headed for the fridge.

——-

That night we got very drunk and Kathryn quizzed me about every detail of my second life. We got out her laptop and I showed her Jez, she saw me say goodnight to Fee as she looked over my shoulder and I showed off some of my shoe collection.
‘There’s more to being a woman than having an extensive shoe collection’ she said primly ‘But those black and red boots are gorgeous’.

I slept on the sofa in the living room and Kathryn slept at the top of the house. We couldn’t use the shower, as the grout wasn’t dry, but neither of us was too smelly and I borrowed some of Kathryn’s deodorant as I had forgotten mine. It was a spray one, Impulse, but not too floral - citrusy.

When she came down finally for us to go to work I looked her in the eye and asked her calmly ( beseeched? Begged? I'm not sure what the right word was) to keep Jez between the two of us.
'Of course! Don't be silly. Who would I tell and who would believe me?’
'Who would care, you mean?’
'You have such a downer on yourself, Andy. I kinda hope hope to spend more time with Jez. Don't take this the wrong way, but she's way more fun to drink with!’
Kathryn flashed a cheeky grin and we headed into work...

Virtually Feminine - Part 6 - The Choice


This chapter starts telling the story of how I came to a point where I had to make a decision about my life. I’m sure you guys are way ahead of me, considering where I’m posting this story, but believe me when I tell you it wasn’t that obvious to me…

Kathryn knew my secret. Which was two people more than I was comfortable with. I was more comfortable staying in denial and convincing myself that it was all pretend in the game I was playing.

So, in the interests of full disclosure, and for those of you who haven't read the rest of my story so far… Hi, my name was Andy and I am a trans-woman called Cathy.

And if you think that glib little statement was easy then you have no understanding of the sheer magnitude of personal growth, of fundamental life changing realisation of the underlying causes of so much of the growing dissatisfaction in my life that I had to go through. And you don't understand the cost. That statement could cost me my children, my job, my friends, my family and, if I am not careful, literally my life.

So, heavy stuff, then.

Then why does saying those words feel like I'm laying down a colossal burden?

Obviously I've been getting advice about all this. I thought, by now, I would be talking to some kind of therapist. It turns out, in the UK, the waiting list for gender issue referrals is measured in months or even years. So that hasn't happened, yet

Let's recap a little on what's been going on since the last time I wrote something down.

Kathryn knew my secret. In fact in those first few days she was more convinced that I was transgender than I was. I was convinced that Jez was just a feminine role I was playing in a game, just a character, not me and not real.
Kathryn was convinced that Jez was the tip of the iceberg, with a whole woman buried inside me. She committed herself to revealing to me who I really was and facilitating my transformation from ugly duckling to beautiful swan. Of course, she didn't tell me this, I would have run as fast as possible if she had told me that then. Our relationship was complicated. She was clearly fond of me. I… I'm not sure how to describe how I felt about her, it was very confusing. I would have been her lover, I think, if she had permitted it, I found her incredibly attractive both physically and mentally. I shy away from saying I worshipped her as that implies that I felt she was divine somehow. It was, with hindsight, more like a crush or the hero worship of an older sibling. She represented what I thought I wanted but what, I came to realise, was really what I aspired to be. A modern, independent, successful woman.

We were 'thick as thieves’ as they say. We would meet for lunch and relished the opportunity to work together whenever we could. Obviously people noticed and I'm sure there was gossip about us becoming a couple. We never were, not in that sense. Kathryn took the dominant role in our relationship and I was left the submissive role.

But what about Fee? I can hear some of my more attentive readers ask.

My relationship with Fee, which had been a source of fun and the first genuine positive human contact (apart from my kids and my mum) since my separation from my ex, became more complex after my conversation with Kathryn.

I tried, initially, to keep things as they were. But, as Kathryn and I began to explore my feminine side in RL (more on that later) I began to wonder if Fee had done this to me? He had, by his own admission, seduced me. His actions had moulded Jez to become his creation, his dream girl, his possession.
Jez began to push for more say in what we did, what she did. Fee confounded my growing disquiet with his role in making me Trans by seeing my growing independence as a wholly positive thing and telling me again and again that he was delighted to see me coming out of my shell and revealing the intelligence he always knew was there and wished I would unleash.
He genuinely loved me and wanted nothing but the best for me. Increasingly I felt guilty about using him, blaming him and hiding my secrets from him.
Fee knew I was keeping things from him, but he assumed, if he was patient, when I was ready I would tell him everything.
As our relationship changed over time so did the nature of the cyber-sex. I don't want to go into shocking details, I know I shocked myself with some of the things we did in the virtual world and how they made me feel.
As I came to accept my feminine nature and Fee’s gentle love, I gave myself free rein to enjoy his enjoyment. I delighted in his pleasure, dressing Jez to meet his every fantasy and pushing his boundaries. I would send him sexy messages at odd times and leave him in no doubt what I wished I could do to and for him. By learning about how to please Fee, I began to learn what it was that pleased me. That wasn't something that had ever occurred to me before. I had sex with women and delighted in my ability to bring them ( well, both of them I ever ended up in bed with, I'd only actually had a sexual relationship with the woman who relieved me of my unwanted virginity at University and the woman who became my wife ) sexual fulfillment. But I never really thought about what I liked. Fee would ask me about my fantasies and then try and fulfil them in Second Life. At first I would recall what women had said to me. But as time went by I began to find what really pushed my buttons, and it surprised me to find that it wasn't anything I expected or had experienced before. I loved putting someone else in charge, being submissive. I found there was a power to it, giving your trust to someone, all your faith that they could take you where you wouldn't dare go by yourself.

I grew to love Fee, and he professed his love for me.

It was bitter-sweet, because it was built on a lie. But the lie was becoming the truth and the sweetness outweighed the bitterness.

Oh, and one thing that we tried was gender-swapping, in Second Life a sex change was a click of a button. I'm not sure which one of us suggested it. Alright, I'll admit, it was probably me. I was trying to work up the courage to tell him the truth and I wondered how Fee would react.
I think it may have started with me talking about how girls had so many more options in Second Life than guys. Fee pointed out that it was just like Real Life. I said something about how more choice made it harder to look good and easier to look slutty or stupid. I think Fee laid down the challenge that we should each create a gender-switched avatar to better understand the point of view of each other, or rather, I guess he always has sex on the brain, just like a man, two avatar looks, one for public use and one for the bedroom.
When we presented our avatars to each other I felt weird. It was difficult for me finding male clothes and looks that didn't look like a stereotypical gay man or butch warrior. I opted for a blue suit and, for the bedroom, boxer shorts. I felt underdressed and ugly.
Fee looked amazing. Shorter than Jez, blonde and with bigger boobs. Her ballgown was exquisite and her stockings, suspenders and pearls outfit for the bedroom was deliciously feminine.
I took Fee dancing, and we had a great time. Both of us had private messages proposing cyber-sex, Fee had proposals from male avatars (mostly) and Jez had messages from (mostly) female avatars. We shared the messages with each other and Fee chuckled about what a shock the guys would have when they realised he was a guy.

We tried out our new avatars in the bedroom that night. It allowed us to try some animations that previously wouldn't have worked. Girl-girl, boy-girl, girl-boy and boy-boy. I found the only one that disturbed me was boy-boy. Fee thought it was odd, and to be honest, so did I. I went along with it to see the animations but it wasn't as enjoyable as the other options, I still don't understand why to this day.

Fee didn't really mind either way. He found girl-girl titillating. He seemed keen on boy-boy but sensed my uneasiness. I don't think he really cared as long as there was some form of porn on the screen and he could 'chat’ with me.

So our relationship went through some ups and downs, but I didn't tell him my secret and it ate at me as Fee’s calm and gentle love supported me.

-0-0-

Kathryn invited me round to her place several times in the weeks following the tiling. She always told me it was to help with the house but it became increasingly obvious that she wanted me to explore my girly side. If she wanted me to paint then she would find a dress for me to wear to keep the paint off my suit. She would paint my nails, initially with clear varnish then with colours and give me nail varnish remover and pads to take it off before I came into work the next day.
When we had finished the jobs Kathryn picked out we would cook together in her new kitchen, which was a sheer joy. I love cooking, my mother used to be my school dinner lady and she worked as the head cook at an old people's home. Neither of my siblings really inherited the joy of cooking but I loved it. I could cook a full roast dinner with all the trimmings, and I did, every weekend I had the kids. They loved my dinners and thanks to being brought up with real food from an early age they were not fussy eaters.
Kathryn taught me a few specific American things, like cherry pie and chocolate fudge cake. I asked her about pumpkin pie as Hallowe'en was getting closer and she gave me her mother's recipe. But a lot of ingredients were not available in the UK, like canned pumpkin for one. But that came later.
After dinner we would sit and watch romcom dvds on her laptop, with it perched on the coffee table, Kathryn didn't own a TV.
One time we were watching a film called 'It’s a boy-girl thing’ where a boy and a girl swap bodies. In one scene the female actress playing the part of the male character decides to go to school without a bra because it was too difficult to put on. Kathryn paused the film.
'I bet you could put a bra on, it's not _so_ hard’
'Really, how much do you bet?’
'I’ll make you a real cherry pie from scratch if you get it on and you make me bread-pudding if you can't’.
Well, cherry pie is my kryptonite, especially the way Kathryn makes it. Bread pudding is ok, but it's time consuming to make and you need a lot of stale bread (not mouldy, just dry).
'Your bras wouldn't fit me…’
'I have a friend's bra here that would.’
'Don't think I'm not wise to what you're trying.’
'Whatever do you mean? ‘
‘I’m sat here watching a romcom with my BFF in a dress with nail varnish on. It's one glass of wine away from the alcohol and peer pressure my mother warned me about!’
'So you’ll do it then?’
'Where’s my wine?’
Yes, I managed to get the bra on without too much trouble. The pie was delicious the next week and I took the dress home with me 'to wash’. I wore the bra home under my suit.

-0-0-

Dressing as a woman bothered me. I was happy to think of myself as a kind of 'honorary woman’ when Kathryn was around and 'Virtual woman’ in Second Life. But I knew I looked like a middle-aged guy in a dress when I relaxed at Kathryn's and I would have been mortified if anyone else who knew me came round and caught me looking like that.
I figured I needed help beyond Kathryn's pressuring me, in a playful way to be sure, but still pushing me.
I made an appointment to see my GP. I arranged to work from home so I didn't have to take the day as leave, I also managed to get my annual glucose tolerance test done that morning as well, partly as an excuse for time off work and partly because my Dad has type 2 diabetes and so I need to get checked once a year. I arranged to have the GP appointment after the final test of the glucose tolerance test (you have to hang around for a couple of hours for your body to metabolise the glucose after fasting from the night before). I could have had the appointment in the middle of the test, but I wanted the option to run out in tears if it all went wrong. I'm not sure what way I thought it would go wrong, but… I don't know, I just had this feeling of dread hanging over me.
So, feeling a little light-headed from the fasting and the anxiety I found myself in a GPs surgery talking to a pretty doctor from the Indian subcontinent.
'Well Mr Clarke, what is it that brings you to us today?’
'Well…’ I started, struggling to articulate my problems, let's face it, it was ridiculous, I was ridiculous. I started to feel really anxious and I noticed I was beginning to hyperventilate. I struggled to calm myself and just get the words out…
'I’m having some issues with my feelings about gender…’
Once I got the first statement out it became easier to talk. I said that it was hard to articulate and hard to admit to myself but that I was coming to the realisation that there may be an underlying cause to the mild depression I'd been suffering for the last couple of years. One of my friends had helped me see that I may have some gender issues and I would like to be referred to a specialist who could help me sort out what my issues were.
I obviously hit all the buzzwords and offered a clear request for help that the GP could cope with. She assured me that everything I had told her would be confidential and that she would request a referral from the local GIC, she told me that there were limited resources, especially these days, and that teenagers and young adults naturally would have priority. She also gave me some leaflets, including one for the Beaumont Society and a printed list of weblinks.
I don't think the doctor knew quite what to make of me. I wasn't dressed as a woman and I don't look girly or gay or anything. I think she may have thought I was like a hypochondriac, thinking I had something because I read the symptoms on the internet. As I left her room it struck me what an embarrassing and personal stigma it could be if my friends, family and colleagues found out what I had just revealed to this stranger. Yet it didn't really bother me. Sooner or later, if I continued on this path, complete strangers would be able to tell at a glance that I was not a typical guy.
So, I went home to work over my internet connection. It would take 80 minutes or more to travel to the office and even longer to come back. I'd already wasted a significant part of the day waiting for the glucose tolerance test so I was going home to get some work done, otherwise I might miss deadlines at the end of the week.

-0-0-

That night, after I'd finished working, at around 8pm ( I'd carried on working while I ate, microwave dinners are not much hassle to prepare) I started looking at the list of links. There was so much information I felt like I was drowning in it. The more I read the more I realised how out of my depth I was and how much I needed a knowledgeable guide. Kathryn was great, she would always be special to me. But I don't think she knew any trans people, even in New York, and she really didn't know how to navigate through the NHS.
I started lurking on one or two of the forums to try and figure out what the etiquette was. There wasn't much traffic, no one was discussing anything juicy and everyone was being quite guarded.
One newbie started asking stupid and insulting questions and everyone just vanished except one person called Gwen who just weighed into him, clearly getting increasingly annoyed and frustrated that this troll deliberately didn’t ‘get’ what she was saying.
Eventually I couldn’t stand it any more, I typed;
CathySmith> hey newb, stop trolling, some of us have some confusing issues in our lives right now and we’re looking for some answers from other people who have dealt with these issues before us, why don’t you stop wasting our time with your narrow-minded BS and go and watch the footie like the next stereo-typical straight guy?
NewSexGod>You should leave these sickos to someone who knows what to do to them. I’ve read the bible so I know what God thinks of all you PERVERTS!
GwenLoveheart>Oh Cathy, thanks for sticking up for me, but I’ve been dealing with idiots like him longer than he’s been alive, bless his poor, deluded heart. I’ll IM you later :-)

Oops. Should have kept my mouth shut, or whatever the forum equivalent was. Never mind. Gwen and the newb kept on going, but I got bored pretty rapidly as the newb started frothing at the mouth and repeating himself. I haven’t had much time for god botherers in a while. My dear old Dad forced us to go to CofE Sunday school for years, then turned around and got into Druidism, hermetic magic, tarot and crystals. My brother dated a girl from the baptist church for years, until she gave up god and ran off with a hippie. I’d gone to the Methodist youth group for a while, because they had a badminton court on a Saturday evening. But the BS and hypocrisy of it all just left me feeling empty.
In my late 20’s I found a tshirt with the Epicuran Paradox on it, which solidified my thoughts on the matter - “Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able, nor willing? Then why call him God?” But I still respected people who genuinely had a faith and still strove to make the world better for everyone else and held themselves to higher standards than they expected from everyone else. I didn’t have time for idiots who knew they were right and everyone else was wrong and believed that gave them special privileges to be assholes.

-0-0-

The day after, when I logged into my laptop, I found I had a message from Gwen reaching out to me. It was strange, how nervous I was to respond to a stranger, who presumably was trans, reaching out to me. It kind of felt like it was a milestone, admitting that this thing, whatever it was, was real. The message was very short
‘Hi, sorry I didn’t have time to talk yesterday.
I understand that you are a new user on our forum and you may have a lot of questions. I’m happy to help in any way I can, but I am not a trained counsellor, just a ‘fellow traveller’ who may be a little further along my own personal path than you are.
Welcome to the forum
your loving sister, Gwen’

Sister, eh? That’s a thought, I’m seriously thinking about joining the secret sisterhood of trans-women. What would that mean? I guess responding to Gwen might be one way to start finding out. I started typing my reply.

‘Gwen, I don’t really know where to start… This is really hard for me to admit and if you weren’t an anonymous stranger who I will probably never meet I would probably be running out of the door now. I’m beginning to realise that the feelings I’ve had for many years, about not feeling comfortable in my own skin, being awkward with strangers, wary of men and generally not fitting in, may have something to do with gender issues. I’m not ready to say I’m a trans-woman, yet…’

I stopped and re-read the last sentence. Was that really true, still? Was I kidding myself the longer I dragged this process out? I continued typing…

‘But I have to admit that I am discovering a feminine side to my personality that I cannot deny any longer. I’ve approached my GP for help, but she says the waiting lists are very long. Can you help me identify my options while I wait for a referral to the GIC? Yours Cathy’

Gwen’s reply came back startlingly quickly.

‘Cathy, can we chat? Do you have Skype or something? Gwen’

Hmm, did I have Skype? I wasn’t going to use Andy’s Skype login for this. I used the email address I’d setup to sign in ‘CathySmith’ on the forum to create a Skype user on my system and emailed the details to Gwen.

The connection request came quickly.

Gwen had a picture of a Teddy Bear with a pink bow around its neck as her profile picture. I had the default blank head. She didn’t offer to video call or voice chat, she just used messaging.

Gwen> Are you in a safe place?
Cathy> I’m at home
Gwen> Alone?
Cathy> Yes, I live alone except when my kids are with me. Most of my friends are 80 miles from here
Gwen> That sucks!
Cathy> It has its benefits, at the moment.
Gwen> So you are going through something at the moment?
Cathy> That’s one way of putting it.
Gwen> But… How to put this delicately… You’re not stressed out by some other major life event?
Cathy> Work is hard, raising my kids is hard, dealing with my ex-wife is hard, life is hard
Gwen> That sounds… depressing?
Cathy> Yes, I have mild depression, since the divorce
Gwen> Do you want to tell me more about her? Why did you split?
Cathy> I don’t know! I was working so hard for us, for the kids, trying to do everything I could. Long hours, good job, I did the cooking, changed the nappies, cleaned the toilets, I don’t know what I did wrong. We went to marriage guidance and she

I paused before I typed the next bit I was thinking. It still filled me with shame and anger when I thought of it. I added an ellipsis on the end, hit send and carried on typing

Cathy> She complained in the sessions that I didn’t make love to her anymore. So I took the day off, bought her flowers, cooked a meal and we made love that night. The next day she told me that she only did it to make me feel happy and it felt like rape to her.

Tears were flooding down my face now. I’d just told a complete stranger one of the most awful things that happened to me in my life. That accusation finished my marriage. I found out afterwards that she had been coached by someone at her work (she stocked shelves in the local DIY store in the evenings). I found a plan, some of it in her writing but none of the words were hers, on how to force me to leave so that she would get the house and be free. She’d left it screwed up in the bin in our bedroom when she left, along with an empty packet of birth-control pills. She’d left it for me to empty, I don’t think it was deliberately cruel. I just think she was too stupid to realise what she was doing. But it cut me like a knife. Let me explain, she had insisted that I had a vasectomy after my daughter, our second child, was born. It hadn’t been particularly comfortable and it had left me with less of an interest in sex afterwards, mostly because of the discomfort. So the pills just confirmed that she was having an affair, or seriously thinking about it, before she left me.

Gwen> Why would she say that?
Cathy> To hurt me? I don’t know, she was getting coached on how to drive me insane by her lover, I think.
Gwen> She was having an affair?
Cathy> She never admitted it in the sessions but she was taking birth control pills after my vasectomy
Gwen> That’s normal, though, isn’t it?
Cathy> 2 years after the all clear? No. I found their notes.
Gwen> What notes?
Cathy> When she left, she left their notes on how to drive me away in the bin
Gwen> What?
Cathy> Screwed up in the bin in our bedroom, in her writing and someone else’s, notes like: Make him leave, drive him out, keep the house
Gwen> You’re kidding me?
Cathy> I have a copy - I gave the original to my lawyer.
Gwen> So you got a ‘Good Divorce’ if there is such a thing?
Cathy> No. My lawyer kept changing, and each new one would be lower down the ladder and take longer to ‘read into’ the case. Her lawyer was a shark, who didn’t care about right or wrong
Gwen> So, she got the house?
Cathy> No, I had to sell the house and give her £105K cash, and pay maintenance on the kids
Gwen> Shit. That sounds like a really bad deal. Were you that rich?
Cathy> Not after the divorce, I had a few tens of thousands to buy a house.
Gwen> But you had a good job?
Cathy> Had? Yes. But I got made redundant and I had to take a new job on a lower salary.
Gwen> I think I’d be depressed after that
Cathy> I feel like there’s something wrong with my life. I did before the divorce. Like I was being made to suffer someone else’s life. I kind of hoped, now my ex isn’t here that I could find my life again.
Gwen> Ah, hence why you are looking to see life from the distaff side!
Cathy> Are you a language professor in real life? Because that’s a pretty obscure use of English
Gwen> You got it, though?
Cathy> Er, yes, I think so. As much from the context as anything else.
Gwen> Clever girl! I’m so sorry I don’t have more time to spend with you this evening, but I have other things I have to do, I’m afraid.
Gwen> You are going to be alright, aren’t you? You would tell me if it got too bad?
Cathy> I’d tell you or my friend, Kathryn
Gwen> Cathy and Kathryn? That’s not going to get confusing, at all!
Cathy> ikr
Cathy> I’m sorry for dumping all this on you
Gwen> I asked
Cathy> And I let the flood gates go. I don’t know why, I’m normally very reserved.
Gwen> Sometimes a good cry is very therapeutic. I think you were overdue for one, from what you’ve told me
Cathy> tip of the iceberg, in some ways
Gwen> Really? Oh my. You sure you will be ok?
Cathy> I have at least one good friend I can count on
Gwen> and me. You can count on me, I’m in your corner you know
Cathy> Thanks
Gwen> Make sure to hug your kids. That makes all life’s ups and down come into perspective. I’ll be in touch. It was nice to meet you
Cathy> You too, Gwen. Goodnight
Gwen> Goodnight

-0-0-

So, Kathryn, Gwen and Fee all pushing me, as gently as possible, in the feminine direction. Except Kathryn, sometimes her ‘gentle push’ came like a drop-kick. But she was the only one who knew me, as Andy and Cathy, and she still spoke to me. So she was my lifeline.
Fee was oblivious to my struggle, just like a man, but he was in many ways the most relentless.
Gwen was concerned that I had so few friends that I could talk to about my issues, she gave me some contact information for local support groups. I was too nervous to just turn up at one of these meetings either as Andy or Cathy so I just contacted some of the group members that Gwen recommended on the forum and introduced myself as Cathy.
They weren’t ‘real’ friends like Kathryn, but somehow these tentative relationships felt more real than my relationship with Fee. That was beginning to feel more like pure escapism.

-0-0-

Through it all I carried on with the routine of my life. The workload in my job was insane and it was not uncommon to be in work until 10pm. Which didn’t leave me much time for even virtual socialising. My kids took another big chunk of my time, on average 3 nights a week, or more if I had annual leave to use up.

So, progress was slow. There was no prospect of getting a quick referral for counselling. I was too scared to go out in public as Cathy, or even to a support group, in case I met someone I knew. I wasn’t sure what to do next…

-0-0-

After 2 or 3 months of this glacial progression it struck me - it was clear what the inexorable progress was leading towards. It was time, time to ‘man-up’ and face my future (the irony of this phrase was not lost on me).

I had a choice to make; either skulk around dressing in private and occasionally with Kathryn, playing with the forbidden fruit of being a man in a dress. Or admit to myself that many of the fundamental truths about myself, who I really was, were… wrong.

I told Kathryn that I was going to go to a support group, specifically to meet Angela, one of the people that Gwen had introduced me to. I asked if she would come with me?
Kathryn was happy to come, but she wanted me to think carefully as this was a big step. Was I going to go dressed as a man? Which might insult some of those in the group. Or would I go ‘En Femme’ (look at me! Down with the lingo) as Cathy and risk outing myself to any passing stranger who recognised me. Plus embarrassing myself terribly, I hated the way I looked, there was almost nothing feminine about me physically. I was tall, my hair was thinning, I was too broad across the shoulders, my feet were too big and I was still not as slender as I wanted to be. The only thing going for me was that my ‘moobs’ were probably at least an ‘A’ cup.
Kathryn asked me ‘Didn’t you wear some of your ex-wife’s clothes?’
‘Er, yes - these jeans are from Dorothy Perkins’ she left them in the wardrobe when she left because they were too small for her.
‘Well, you can’t be that far from _a_ female’s size then?’
‘Well, no. You are correct that Linda is a similar size to me, 6 feet tall and about the same weight. More of her weight is on her hips and breasts, but yes. The only problem is that she has been mistaken for a transvestite in the past…’
I’d timed it perfectly, Kathryn had just taken a swig of her coffee and nearly choked in her effort not to spray it over her desk.
‘WHAT!?’ She nearly screamed when she got her breath back.
‘Didn’t I tell you that?’ I smirked ‘My friend Martin was walking through town with his partner when she turned around and pointed out Linda in the crowd, she thought Linda was a transvestite, Martin nearly died laughing trying to explain’.
‘Why the hell did she think your ex-wife was a guy?’
‘Have I shown you photos?’
‘No.’
‘Hmm, Well, she is my height, My weight, she has size 10 feet and her nose is… quite large. Oh, and she wears quite a lot of makeup these days.’
‘Why did you marry her?’
‘I’m finding it harder and harder to remember… she was sweet, she had legs for days, she was a different person then. I thought she looked like Aeryn Sun, the Peacekeeper from the TV series “Farscape”?’

It sounded weak, even to me. I really did struggle to think why I married Linda. I’m beginning to think I was desperate and she wanted me. I think we kind of sleep-walked into it. Also, I had wanted kids. I had talked Linda into it with all the other bits, 2.4 kids, suburbia, the house and cars, etc. But really, I needed a woman because I wanted kids and she was there. Willing to take my money and raise our kids, for a while, anyway.

‘How about if we go to the first one and just lurk outside to see who goes in?’ I said.
‘Ah, you want to case the joint first, get the lay of the land?’
‘I know it’s chicken, but this is scary shit’
‘I guess, for me the worst that could happen is that they could start calling me a ‘fag hag’’.
‘They do that already, since you’ve started spending time with me.’
‘Really?’
‘No, not really, I guess. No one’s gives a sh____ whatever about me. It’s not that they are broad-minded, they just don’t care.’

There was a pause while we both considered the apathy of our work colleagues.

‘Er…’ I started ‘what would it take, to make me look like a passable woman, do you think?’
‘Polyfilla and a corset?’ Kathryn smirked.
‘Bitch!’ I said and stuck out my tongue at her.
‘Are you seriously going to go for it now’ she asked.
‘I think I have to at least think about it.’ I said softly.
‘This is getting real, then?’
‘It has been real for a while, I just didn’t understand what it was.’

We spent the rest of the evening searching for wigs and forms and pads on the internet, getting increasingly freaked by what was available and how much it would cost.

‘You know, you don’t need any of this stuff to be a woman’ Kathryn said.
‘Huh?’ I replied.
‘Well, look at me… I’m not wearing a skirt, I don’t have much makeup on, my sweatshirt is baggy enough that you can’t tell if I’m wearing a bra.’
‘Sorry, Kathryn - I hate to tell you this, but I doubt you’ll be passing as a macho man any time soon’.
‘No, silly - I mean a pink Sweatshirt, women’s bootcut jeans, pink trainers - it doesn’t scream “girly girl” but it would be feminine’.
‘I’m trying to figure out the “flags” that other people see that would change the way that they treat me, how I feel I present myself. And I _know_ I have a whole bunch of stereotypes in my own mind about the difference between men and women, and a bunch of that is unconsciously why I’ve known I was different and now I want to explore my gender more...er, I’m rambling, right?’
‘Did I glaze over? Yeah, I don’t really understand what it is about being a woman that interests you. You’re not gay, are you? And if you were, you wouldn’t need to wear a dress to get a guy. Alex in procurement is gay as anything, and he has a new boyfriend whenever the old one gets fed-up with him.’
‘Yeah, I’m not an Alex, that’s for sure. I don’t have his confidence, his flair or his callousness’.
‘I don’t think he’s callous, just a bit superficial…’
‘I don’t really find him that attractive. That’s something I found in Second Life, playing with Fee. I have some weird ideas about what I do and don’t like.’
‘Oh? don’t stop there…’
‘Er...Ok, I know I can trust you to be discrete. I don’t like boy-boy - boy-girl or girl-girl I like - I don’t really mind if I am the boy or the girl, but boy-boy just doesn’t excite me. How weird is that?’
‘Ha, they could write books about you!’
‘Cheeky mare!’
‘But seriously, for a moment. I know you have a feminine side. You don’t act like a typical male around me, or Fee. But you fake it at work. How does that work? Are you a woman pretending to be a man, a man playing at being a woman. What does ‘Being a woman’ mean to you anyway, it’s not just makeup and dresses, you know?’
I sighed.
‘It’s very hard to put into words. The more I’ve thought about this the more little things through the years have started making a new kind of sense, like a box of jigsaw puzzle pieces that you made into a picture when you were 6 and then you throw them up in the air and when they land they make a different picture, but the pieces fit better.’
‘Go on, this is interesting, but I’m not sure I understand what you mean, or what it means to you’
‘Ok, well, turn it around - what makes you a woman?’
‘Ha, I notice you didn’t say ‘Girl’ - 10 points for personal growth!’
‘I thought we were being serious?’
‘That is serious, it’s the unconscious ‘putting down’ of anything feminine that most men do - you’ve stopped doing that, I notice.’
‘I think I only ever did that as a form of protective colouration, I’ve always felt women were better in some way.’
‘We are. Is that why you want to be one?’
‘It’s not that simple. I can never have what you have…’ Tears sprang to my eyes. ‘You have no idea what you have, how hard it is to keep pretending and hiding how I feel.’
Kathryn gave me hug and I tried to pull myself together.
‘Ugh, I’ve always cried too easily’ I said ‘and the boys used to pick on me for it and call me a “cry-baby”. One more of a thousand things that mark me out as different. If you draw a line and put all the female things on one side and all the male things on the other then I find the things I like, my interests, my predilections are all on the female side - except for the gross physical characteristics of my body. So as a simple answer to your question? What makes me a woman? Everything, except my body. And that’s the one thing that everybody else sees. It’s the thing that stops me being included in conversations with the women at work. The thing that makes the mothers of the other kids at swimming lessons shun me. The thing that keeps me so isolated and alone because I don’t give a _fuck_ about beer and sport and leering at bimbos!’
-0-0-
After my little meltdown Kathryn decided that I needed more specialist help than she could give. She eventually talked me round to going to the meeting. She also convinced me that I should present as female, but not overwhelmingly so. I wasn't keen, at first. I'm not sure why the idea made me so uncomfortable, it was clearly the direction my life was heading in, but the idea of meeting unknown members of the public looking like… well, a man in a dress, filled me with dread. I would be embarrassed and humiliated and I would alienate the very people I wished to emulate.
Kathryn pointed out that she had never been mistaken for a man, but she regularly wore jeans and a sweatshirt. I still had a pair of Linda's jeans bought in Dorothy Perkins. She'd given them to me when her ass got too broad to squeeze into them anymore and they were the comfiest jeans I had. The material was softer and stretchier than my other jeans. Kathryn talked me into buying a turquoise hoodie and a pair of light grey cross trainers from the online store she used. I also got a camisole top and some more underwear.
Kathryn arranged to meet me at my home the evening of the next meeting.
-0-0-
Kathryn turned up as expected with a suitcase on wheels towed behind her, which wasn't expected and probably got the neighbors curtains twitching.
I helped her get it into the house and she started unpacking. I'd already removed all my body hair the night before, which was a significant job in itself requiring electric trimmers, bottles of hair remover and two razors. My skin had felt excruciatingly sensitive all day. I'd had the closest shave I could get this evening.
Kathryn had bought all the clothes I was going to wear tonight and a bunch of other things. She sent me off to strip and put my knickers and bra on and then come back. She handed me a pair of breast forms I recognised from the internet.
“Wow, Kathryn, these things are expensive, I wasn't going to invest that much yet” I said.
“Well, money is tight at the moment, so it would be nice if you could pay me back for them. Tell you what, pay me for the boobs and I'll give you the wig as a gift!”
“Wig?” I asked.
Kathryn delved into the suitcase and brought out a carefully packed wig and an odd looking head made of polystyrene. She pulled the wig from its packaging and I could see that it was a dark red or auburn colour that went quite well with my naturally dark coloured hair and pale skin. It was a lot more vivid than my natural hair although it looked a lot more natural than many of the women with dyed red hair. The style was a long bob. It was lovely. She put it on the head that was clearly some kind of wig stand and straightened it to show how it would look.
Kathryn fixed the forms to my chest with some special adhesive then she had me remove my knickers and we fiddled with the gaff she'd brought to try and minimize my manly bulge. Then I replaced the knickera, put on the Dorothy Perkins jeans and a camisole top and Kathryn started work on my makeup. The makeup was a joint effort, she did the painting and I did the face pulling, gurning as she instructed to ensure things went as well as possible. Kathryn did try to explain what she was doing with foundation and mascara, but I must be honest, I couldn't take it all in. Then once she had finished I carefully pulled the hoodie over my head in a way to avoid disturbing the face she had painted on me and she worked on my wig. A final touch of lipstick and the look was complete. I studied myself in the mirror with some trepidation. I had dressed in women's clothes before, as you know. Either in stealth, not trying to look like a woman but just knowing the ordinary, possibly unisex, things I was wearing were identifiably _female_ clothes, such as would be worn by a lady. Not _mens_ clothes, despite appearances, or for fun, behind closed doors in feminine items.
But this? This was the first time I was intending to head out into the world unmistakably dressed as, appearing as, _presenting_ as, female.
So I studied myself, I was pleasantly surprised. I was no beauty, heaven knows, but neither was I masculine.
Kathryn had kept the makeup very subtle, My eyebrows were the only permanent change, I guessed, but they were still present, just trimmed and shaped with a little bit of plucking. I could probably get away with them tomorrow at work if only because I was a middle-aged guy that no one would be looking at too hard.
My face was never very masculine, but now it appeared like a softer version of itself. Nothing screamed male. I had mascara and a light pink lipstick. Not bright red, that would scream I was trying too hard, just the kind of thing my ex-wife used to wear during the day.
My height was the thing that would mark me more than anything else. Paradoxically, it was the one measurement that Linda and I always had in common.
I had a difficult time making it out of the front door. Kathryn was understanding, but she threatened to scream if I didn't go through with it tonight, after all the planning and effort she had gone to. For her sake, and mine… well, Cathy-me, if not Andy-me, I took a deep breath and stepped out into the evening air and headed to the meeting with Kathryn.
-0-0-
The walk from the car to the meeting was another step I had to overcome. I felt like a furtive spy behind enemy lines with all eyes searching for me, but Kathryn just linked her arm through mine and pointed me in the direction of the meeting.
We got to the door and I dithered about actually going in. This was the final step, once I went through that door then it would be real. People would know, my secret would be out and there would be no controlling it anymore.
Kathryn knew my reluctance. But she didn't drag me through the door. I'm not sure if I wouldn't have preferred her doing that. She left the decision up to me.
She looked at me with understanding in her eyes, held out her hand and said "I'm with you. I have your back. I know who you are and I've got your back."
These simple and heartfelt words gave me the courage to step through the door.

I'm not sure quite what I was expecting but it seemed a bit of an anti-climax. There were a couple of very camp boys on one side, a small group of clearly lesbian girls on the other side and a couple of people in the middle. Two women of a less than certain age were at the front in skirts and cardigans, looking like they were taking the evening off from whist and the church committee. The people in the middle were… different. No two were the same. One was a guy, with a beard, in a sequinned evening gown. One looked like a lesbian with a stick-on beard. One looked like a very masculine woman in an out of date and too short, too tight skirt suit. As we dithered in the entrance one of the older ladies at the front called out in a surprisingly deep and strong voice - "Ah, newcomers! Don't be afraid, my dears, grab a cuppa and take a seat!"
Everyone turned to look at us. The gay boys turned away quite quickly, the lesbians took slightly longer and the other group were, well, varied. The guy in the dress watched us the longest, but even he was not staring long enough to be really off-putting. I guess people were being well behaved.
Kathryn and I made our way to get a cup of coffee each from a small table of refreshments. There was a pot saying "Please donate 50p per cup" on a sign. In the pot was a few pounds in small change. I put a pound in and we made our way to seats in the middle. A young woman came in as we sat down and hurried to get a drink. She seemed to be the last person expected to arrive and the two older ladies started handing out printed sheets, saying "Take one and pass it on" as they did.
I looked at the sheet and it was a bizzare kind of newsletter. It was covered in fine print news stories cut and pasted from the internet from around the world and around the corner. I noticed a story about President Trump hounding gay and lesbian veterans in the U.S. and an announcement that Lily was having a baby and there would be a collection next week. There was a page of URLs for information for the LGBT community. I didn't have time to read it all. The taller of the two women called us all to order.
"Alright everyone, let's get started! It's lovely to see some new faces tonight… I hate to put you on the spot but I think you should tell us who you are and why you are here. I know it's nerve-wracking but you are among friends here and we are in no position to judge you unfairly So, start as you mean to go on, think of it like ripping off a plaster, it's less painful once you've got it done quickly!" she said, in a voice that was at odds with her appearance.
Kathryn stood up and said "I'm Kathryn, I'm here to support my friend tonight."
I looked at her and smiled, glad that she had broken the Ice.
I stood up, took a deep breath and said quietly "You can call me Cathy, I'm struggling with gender issues at the moment."
The woman who came in to the group after us said "Welcome to our group, I'm Claire…" which started the rest of the group going and we got a round of welcomes and at the end the older lady said "...and I'm Gwen, I think we met online, dear". Then she got on with the rest of the meeting.
I didn't know quite what to expect, but whatever I had expected, it wasn't this. There was no dishing of juicy secrets about how to pass as a woman or how to spot a fellow lesbian. Gwen started off by giving a roundup of the local news with information about helpful clinics, horrible council bosses, local shops and churches who were openly anti-gay, petitions to sign to protest anti-gay organisation. It only took about 30 minutes then there was a coffee break where we kind of mingled. Claire came and introduced herself. One of the gay guys said "Hi" to me and one of the lesbians introduced herself to Kathryn, she thought she shared a keep fit class, but Kathryn explained that she lived 80 miles away so it was unlikely. Then, after coffee, Gwen's partner, Sally, gave a brief talk on employment legislation and what HR teams should and shouldn't do with LBGTQ+ employees. Which I found interesting, but a little daunting. I didn't think I was quite ready to face the HR girls en femme yet.

-0-0-

So, now I knew, or at least, I had admitted to myself and others, who or what I was. Ultimately, it wasn’t a choice in that regard, just a growing acceptance of something that I think I must have known for years. The real choice was - what I was going to do about it? What would my next steps be?

Virtually Feminine - Part 7 - Consequences


Now that I've made my choice, what does that mean? How do I start to come to terms with what that means, and what happens when my ex finds out?

btw, the image is meant to be Julie from HR looking upset, and trying to hide it.

I'm going to mention something that is not really part of my story. I'm adding it as I go back and review what I've written because it will make my later comment make more sense.
I haven't mentioned what I look like in any detail. You know I'm not feminine, I guess, at least, not at this point in my story. Well, about this time I started paying more attention to my diet. I… this is kind of embarrassing to admit… I was quite large. If I was a woman, I would be called fat. Guys don't worry about it so much so I was just 'large’. A big bloke.
I didn't want to be a bloke of any sort, so when someone called me that at work I kind of took it to heart. I've always had a sweet tooth. I was very active, I went to play badminton once a week. But I ate too many sweets while I was driving, and my diet was... well, takeaways and ready-meals. There wasn't much point cooking for one, I thought. I kind of started thinking about how women are. And diets. I read up on this thing called 'the Keto Diet’ and it made a lot of sense. I tried it and I lost weight. A lot of weight. So I kept doing it. I didn't think I was obsessive about it, but people started noticing. Kathryn noticed first. She didn't really need to diet, she was tiny, but she thought she did. She'd tried every diet going and none of them worked for her. She would get cranky and hungry and binge and feel bad
She couldn't believe that I could have magically found the one diet that actually worked.
She tried it, but she cheated on it and ate carbs, a lot. She lost some weight, but she didn't stick with it.

I felt it gave me a level of control over my life when everything else was out of control. I lost 14Kg in 2 months. Then my weight loss slowed, but I continued losing weight. I went from over 100Kg down to about 80Kg. I felt so much better about myself, I'm not sure I can explain it. I will never be dainty, but at least I wasn't a big bloke anymore.
No, I didn't diet because girls diet and I was a girl, not really. But women pay more attention to their appearance, in my experience, and judge each other partly based on appearance.
I think Kathryn was proud of me, if somewhat irked, for some reason. But it made me feel more in control, that was why I did it.

-0-0-

After the first, extremely daunting, experience of going out en-femme and my growing acceptance that this was really who I was meant to be I kind of hit a speedbump. I wasn't clear what the next step was now. Crossdressing was something I did in private at home, with Kathryn and for the meetings. I got better at it, quite quickly, I thought. I didn't overdo it the way some of the Trans women did. Gloria, from the meeting, the one with the beard and sequins? She never met a rhinestone she didn't like. She was like a magpie, the more glittery it was the more fascinated she would be. Kathryn and I called her 'the queen of bling', but not to her face. We were a little bitchy, I guess, outside the meeting, but these people were all _so_ strange, nothing like us, we were boringly normal.

Gwen was about the most down to earth person at the meetings, her partner, Simone, was very grounded, too. The gay boys were flighty, the lesbians were angry (not really angry _about_ anything, just generally predisposed to being pissed-off).
Claire was going all the way. She was still pre-op, but she was in her life trial and said she was so much happier now that she just resented the time she had to spend waiting. She was the young lady that came in late to the first meeting and one of the online chat members that I got on well with.

Claire was blessed, she was petite and lithe, there was no way that you could ever imagine her being anything other than female. When I realised who she was at one of the meetings I got very tongue-tied. I'd chatted with her online and we had got on fine. I had more general life experience but she was further along in her transition. Much further along, it turned out. The surgery was clearly a formality as far as she was concerned. She wasn't just female, she was _feminine_. And pretty.

I wanted to hate her. But I just felt too inadequate for her to notice if I did. If I had a million pounds and I started 10 years earlier I would never be as pretty as her.

The reason I bring up Claire is that she worried me. I was both fascinated and repelled by what she was proposing to do to her body. For her, she made it very clear, it wasn't mutilation it was merely a little cosmetic surgery to make her outside more compatible with her inside. She never wanted her penis, it was the cause of most of the anguish in her life and she had been tempted, so she told us, to hack it off with a meat-cleaver when she was a teenager because the pain of her deformity was almost too much for her to bear.
I hadn't really felt that kind of existential anguish, had I?
Every time I started thinking about it, it was like probing the gap where a tooth used to be, it didn't hurt, exactly, but it was uncomfortable and there was a sense of loss.

I admired Claire. I envied her beauty and femininity. But I wasn't ready to 'go all the way' like she was. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But the thought that, one day, I could be wholly female… that attracted and repelled me increasingly strongly.

But, increasingly, that left me in limbo. Neither one thing or another. 'Neither fish, nor fowl' as they say.
I had no interest in the stereotypical male pursuits or pastimes. But, I was viewed with suspicion if I tried to tag along with Kathryn to any 'girls only' events. Maybe it would have been different if I was convincingly feminine. But l, at this stage, I looked like a fat bloke in a dress if I tried to dress appropriately.

So, I spent a lot of time at home on my own feeling isolated and sorry for myself.
It was only my online friends in the TG chat rooms and my Second Life friends that kept me sane. Well, kept me from..., I'm sorry to say this, I know it's a trigger for some who will be reading this, but, to be brutally honest… I felt like ending it all sometimes.
I wouldn't, really I wouldn't. I couldn't do that to my kids. But there were days… I don't like to think about them or dwell on them, but they were very dark days. Let's leave it at that. If you've been through it, you know too well what I mean. If you haven't, you may get the feeling I was a bit unhappy. You might tell me to "pull myself together" and think you've done your good deed for the day by giving me some good advice that obviously I hadn't thought of before. Sorry, I shouldn't sneer. I feel a little smug that I survived what could have killed me and all these other people around me didn't even know how much crushing pain I was able to survive, and then that makes me sad because I realise how many beautiful people didn't survive because they didn't have the friends, the family and the support that I have had. Some of them are people I have known, possibly even people that I have overlooked or said the wrong thing to and, although I want to be a good person and help and love everyone, maybe I was as ignorant of them as some people were of me? Maybe my words cut like a knife through their heart where, if I'd only understood what they were going through I could have said the right words and saved someone. Saved them some pain, maybe even saved a life.

I can't kid myself that I'm Mother Theresa. But it does open your eyes to what others may be feeling.

That attitude of wanting to better myself by being a better human being to others began to get me into trouble. Not real trouble but… for example, sometimes, at work, I would go downstairs to the staff break room that had the good coffee machine and sit with Kathryn or one of the pre-sales team and have a coffee and chat. Not very often, but sometimes we needed a break.
One day, someone, I don't know his name, a new guy from another department was being obnoxious about a TG woman who had been on T.V. There was an article in the paper he was reading and he was mouthing off about 'him' being a 'filthy trap'. I should have kept my mouth shut, it's not like anyone was listening to him, but he pissed me off.
I started trying to correct him, saying 'she' whenever he called her 'he' and pointing out that, as she was a lesbian I was pretty sure he wasn't her type.
After a few moments of this he looked at me horrified as if the penny had suddenly dropped and said accusingly "You! Your one of them! A filthy poof! Drinking coffee with decent people, urgh! You've probably given us all AIDS!"
"What _I_ am" I said getting to my feet and storming over to this little idiot "is thoroughly pissed off with your stupid, offensive ranting!"
He was surprised how tall I was when I got near him. He was a little weasel of a man. There's no way I would ever be violent, it's never been in my nature, but I think he could see the fury in my eyes and he shut up as I walked out.
I seriously considered reporting him to HR, but I didn't know his name and I'm not sure I could convey how offensive he was without a recording. I'm pretty sure it's illegal to record someone without their permission, too.
But after that I'm pretty sure there were some whispers about me among the knuckle-dragging element of my company. Given that we wrote a lot of systems used by the Police, and we had some ex-policemen as staff, there was a group or clique of people with conservative views, both with a small 'c' and a big 'C'. I knew that those people would never understand what I was going through.

It was about this time that I broke up with Fee. We'd lasted about eight months as a couple in Second Life. Second Life has this thing where you can declare who your partner is in your profile and it costs you a few hundred Linden Dollars (about 80 U.S. cents, maybe) to dissolve the partnership. It's kind of the equivalent of getting married in RL. The average lifespan of such partnerships is probably a few weeks. Fee and I never did that, it seemed a pointless exercise to us, you can just write text in your profile saying how much you love such-and-such an avatar. You can also put pictures of your favourite 'hang-out' spots with links that others can follow to see where the photos were taken.
We had all that, not shortcuts to our home, but shortcuts to Frank's Jazz bar and some of our other favourite hangouts. My profile picture showed the two of us lying on a beach towel together, with me wrapped in his arms. I know it wasn't "real", but the emotions were real, or real enough.

As I found I was losing my way in RL and questioning which direction I should take I became increasingly irritated by Fee. Bless him, with hindsight it was in no way his fault. He was attentive and loving. His refusal to discuss my RL gender at the beginning now led to an impossible situation, at least in my mind. There was no way I could imagine telling him that I had fooled him for all those months. I'm not even sure I was fooling him. I think he might have figured it out. He may have known from the start but have been too polite to force the issue.
I was a bitch to him because I was scared of how badly he could hurt me when he realised I was male. As I became more female in my own head in RL paradoxically the betrayal seemed more awful.
I was so unfair to him, if I'd only had the courage to tell him he might have, to be fair, he probably _would_ have, been understanding and supportive of me.
Instead I drove him away into the arms of another woman and when I found they had been together, despite his protestations that nothing happened I flipped out.

It was not my proudest moment.

Looking back on it fills me with shame and regret. I knew I'd made a mistake as soon as I typed the words in private chat. "We're through!"
I tried to justify it in my own mind as something noble, that I wasn't good enough for him and a clean break would allow him to find the real woman in RL that he deserved to be with. To be honest with myself, in a way that is only possible with hindsight it was a selfish chicken-shit self-destructive train wreck of my own making. I was getting tired of all the not quite lying through my teeth double-talk, saying 'ex-partner' instead of 'ex-wife' and 'they' instead of 'she' and stuff like that, but I was too much of a coward to come clean about my birth gender. I loved the fact that I could be as female as any cis-girl, and girlier than most of them, in Second Life.
I wrote a long text message, like a 'Dear John' letter, to Fee, but I couldn't bring myself to send it to him. Which was probably just as well for both of us.
I spiralled deeper into depression.
I found I couldn't sleep more than about 3 hours a night. I created an alternative avatar on Second Life that had no connection to me and I would go and hangout at Frank's for a glimpse of Fee in his tux dancing with someone else… and feel like scum.

The lack of sleep and hanging around cyber-stalking our old haunts began to take its toll on me at work. I would find myself nodding off in boring meetings and I would go and nap in my car for 30 minutes at lunchtime to allow me to get through the day.
Kathryn noticed, of course, but she didn't pry too deeply when I told her I'd split from Fee. She seemed to think I just needed time to grieve and get on with the real world. I know she never really understood why I got so much from Second Life. A lot of it was the escapism from RL and all the myriad problems I was building up for myself. Part of it was the clarity, I mean, if I wanted to be female I could just click a button and I was as female as the next avatar. Increasingly though I came to agree with Kathryn that Second Life, for me at least, was a trap. Everything was too easy and too safe, if I was ever going to progress in RL I was going to have to make some decisions and take some risks.

One of the risks I took was dressing as a woman at home now. Not a very big risk considering the blinds on the windows and the fact that I lived alone. Except at the weekend, of course, when I had my kids. I never dressed around them, which was a pain because I had more time at the weekend, when I wasn't working. Every fourth weekend my ex-wife would pick up the kids on Saturday morning and drop them back on Sunday morning. As time went on she would pick them up later and later and drop them off earlier and earlier. Still, once they had left I knew I had the house to myself all day and night.

I know you can see this coming, right? It's obvious to all of you what was going to happen?

So, I went to town, practicing my makeup in my underwear, getting my wig right, finally slipping my dress on. I say my dress, I'd chosen to wear Linda's dress she wore as a 'going away' outfit from our wedding, she'd left that dress, the wedding dress and her ballgown when she left. She couldn't wear any of them anymore as she had put on a considerable amount of weight since the kids were born.
On the other hand, I had lost a lot of weight, and Linda was never petite, so they fitted me now, even with a little padding to make my figure more womanly.
My shoulders were a little broad, but not ridiculously more than Linda's. I wouldn't need shoulder pads, though. Not that the dress had shoulders, it was a simple shift dress, quite fitted, in a floral pattern. Nicely lined, with a zip in the back. I'd made a makeshift zip puller from a design I'd seen on the internet and as I pulled up the zip and completed my outfit after 2 hours of prep I felt pretty good. I headed down to pour myself a small, celebratory Old Mott Cherry and Berries cider.
Then the doorbell rang.
Shit.
What was I going to do?
Well, that was easy, I wasn't going to open the door, and then they would go away.
Then I heard "Daaaddd! I need a wee! Let me in Dad!"

The universe hates me.

Well, I didn't have a choice, there was no way I was going to humiliate my daughter by leaving her to wet herself. But I muttered under my breath about my bitch of an ex-wife putting me in this situation, when a bit of forethought would have avoided it. There's no way I would have put myself in the situation where I had to rely on her letting me in to use her toilet.
So, I stood behind the door and let my daughter in. She flew up the stairs to the toilet and slammed the door to the bathroom behind her.
In the meantime Linda pushed my front door open.
"!? W-who? Andy!! What the fuck!" she spluttered as she saw me.
"Hello Linda" I said brightly with a big fake smile on my carefully made up face "Problems finding a loo?"
"Is that _my_ dress!?" she demanded.
"Nope, it's mine (I don't think it would fit you)" I said the last in a stage whisper.
Linda was turning red and spluttering.
Rachael came down the stairs then and headed for the door.
"Come on, Mum, we haven't got time to hang around!" she said in a very bossy way. She looked at me as she went past and said "Why are you wearing a dress, Dad?"
"Long story" I said "and it sounds as if you haven't got time for it now. See you tomorrow?"
"Sure" she said. She shrugged and grabbed Linda's hand "Come _on_ well be late!"
They both headed for Linda's car and I shut the door.

I thought to myself that things went better than I'd expected. Plus, things were always going to come out at some point, so better sooner than later. I hated hiding this part of myself from my kids, but I had thought it was for the best because they were too young to understand it. Maybe it would be better that way? If I could come to an understanding with them now they might not even remember a time when I wasn't this way.
I was more concerned about Linda. She loved to make a drama out of a crisis, particularly if it turned the kids against me. I think she was overcompensating for a guilty conscience. I didn't really have an axe to grind with her. I had grieved for the woman I loved when I realised that she was gone for good and there was now a stranger walking around in her body. Now I just wanted as little to do with her as possible. It made my skin crawl being near her, like she was some kind of undead or zombie.

Linda, on the other hand, seemed to blame me for everything that had gone wrong in her life since she had the affair and decided she could do better than me. A series of lame boyfriends and even lamer jobs. Mostly because she was as lazy as hell and would use her single mum status as an excuse to get out of anything. Plus she had a limit, carefully worked out, of the maximum number of hours she could work and still get full benefits. I think it was 21 hours and not a second more. Linda had always been better at getting what she could than doing what she could.

Nevermind, the damage was done now, how could I do damage limitation? I rang my Mum first…
"Mum, it's me...look, I haven't got time to explain but, Linda came round unexpectedly and found me dressed up in a pretty frock. I've been having some issues with my gender identity and I was trying some things and… well, I just didn't want you to hear it from her first. Oh, and Linda bought Rachael, too. Got to go, more people to ring. Bye!"
I hate answer phones, but it was probably for the best. I think I would have broken down if she had actually answered.

Who should I ring next? I rang Kathryn for some amoral support (sic) while I thought who else I needed to ring. I wouldn't bother ringing my Dad, not that he would be upset so much as because it was none of his business. Plus, he would make it all about him, somehow.
While I was thinking the phone clicked and Kathryn answered…
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's Cathy."
"Oh, hi. I wasn't expecting a call from you today, was I?"
"No...I just needed to hear a friendly voice. Linda came round unexpectedly and found Cathy instead of Andy."
"Oh", there was a long pause, "what happened?"
"Not much, Rachael dashed to the loo and grabbed Linda again on the way out, she was in a hurry. Linda was still spluttering on her way out of the door".
"This might seem like an obvious question, why on earth did you open the door?"
"My little girl was in danger of wetting herself, what else could I do?"
"Let her, it would have been Linda's fault. You were under no obligation. What would have happened if you weren't there?"
"On an intellectual level, I can see your point. Long term it may be worse for my kids that I opened the door...but, when your child is whining outside your front door, you tend to react emotionally, rather than intellectually."
"I wouldn't know, I don't have kids of my own… but, I guess if it was my nieces and nephew then I would do the same. After all, it's a long way to go back home for the loo when they live in New York!"

-0-0-

That night, I got a text message from Linda:
"YOU FREAK! YOU PERVERT! IM GOING TO GO TO MY LAWYER AND HES GOING TO SCREW YOU! YOULL GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!"

I sighed and wrote back:

"If you take the kids away from me, you'll have to look after them and you won't have time to spend with your boyfriend every weekend. Plus, I don't have any more money, so good luck getting more money out of me!"

I thought a little more and added:

"I have gender dysphoria and I'm getting treatment for it. But you may have to expect some changes. If you keep an open mind, I'm sure it will be better for everyone. Especially Kevin and Rachael."

I know what you're thinking; 'there's no way any normal person puts punctuation in their SMS messages like that' - well, I do. Punctuation was invented before emoticons and l33t to add additional levels of meaning to communication via the written word. Some of my friends say I'm really anal over the English language. In my job, that's a plus. I have to write a ton of complex technical details in a clear and concise way.

Oh, and the other question about why I have the balls to say that to her?
You have to understand my ex-wife doesn't really care about anyone but herself. She's lazy and greedy and stupid. Oh, and a bully. She wasn't always like that, of course. But these days it's pointless to ask her to do the right thing, I've found. But you can get her to do the easy thing, the thing that gives her more money or time. If she thinks I'm not enjoying it, then that's a bonus for her. But she wouldn't bother crossing the road just to kick me while I'm down, it would be too much effort for her. Do I sound bitter? Trust me, I have good cause.

I'm pretty sure she won't bother to look up 'gender dysphoria', too much effort.
Also, she doesn't know any of my work colleagues, she doesn't know Kathryn, not that she could say anything to embarrass me to Kathryn.
So… she's unlikely to go after my work or colleagues. That just leaves…
The phone rang, I picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Andy"
"Mum!? Ah" I quickly put 2 and 2 together "Linda rang you?"
"Of course. I just thanked her for the call and put the phone down on her frothing at the mouth. Was that alright?"
"Perfect, Mum. I did a similar thing when she tried to text me to say she was going to extort something more from me."
"You have something left she hasn't already taken?"
"I know, right?"
"What's all this about, love?"
I sighed deeply, this was going to be hard.
"Mum… I don't know how to explain this…" I started.
"You're gay?" Mum asked.
"It's a little more complicated than that…"
"Trans, then?" she asked.
I was poleaxed.
"What do you know about being transgender?" I asked.
"Oh please, the younger generation always thinks they invented everything. People have been confused about which side of the line they were forever. I've known a few transwomen in my life."
"Do you have any advice?"
"Ha! Now you ask for advice when it's too late to stop?"
"Stop?"
"Stop people finding out. I think we should have told your kids and your father first."
"But you hate Dad!"
"I must admit that I would have relished imagining the look on his face! He might have broken the stick up his ass… but he's still your Dad."
"I guess, I'll call him tomorrow."
"Not now? Linda's probably calling him as we speak."
"In which case he'll either ring me straight away or it can wait 'til tomorrow."
"And the kids?"
"Well, I guess that they were going to find out eventually."
"Kids are very resilient. But they can spot BS. Tell them as much of the truth as they can handle."

-0-0-

I told my Dad on Sunday morning. It wasn't a fun experience so I hope you won't mind if I skip the details, I don't like to dwell on, or recall in any way, my conversations with my Dad. He's not horrible, to an outsider it would seem such a banal conversation but there are years of history with little slights where it's clear I've disappointed him and I'm not his favourite child, even though I'm the oldest and far and away the best behaved, the most academic, highest paid, only one who has given him grandkids… the list goes on, and it's all pointless, all the things he said he wanted, when I give them to him they turn out to be meaningless. Apparently giving him another daughter was a disappointment too.

-0-0-

My conversation with my kids was more awkward. Rachael just accepted that sometimes I wore dresses and then ran away to play with her dolls. She came down after 30 minutes and complained that none of Barbie's dresses fit Ken.
Kevin, on the other hand, was surly and didn't want to hear my explanation or discuss it. After dinner he said he had homework and asked to be excused. Which would be great if he really was doing homework. I went upstairs to check on him after 30 minutes and found him playing computer games. I asked him about his homework.
"Finished it." he said.
I asked him if he wanted some help playing his game.
"I don't need help from a _girl_!" he said hotly.
I left him to it. What could I say that would break through the poison Linda had clearly already been feeding him?

-0-0-

Kevin was stroppy with me until I dropped him off at school. Rachael was weirdly bubbly. Often it was difficult for me to get through to her but she really opened up this weekend. She was talking about making cakes together next weekend, which we used to do a lot before the divorce, well, I made the cakes and she picked the spoons.
It was almost a pleasure to see Kevin go for once, his low-level passive aggressive sulk was infuriating.

I drove into work after dropping the kids off at the school gates and entered a shit-storm. Someone had left a copy of a contract for a customer on the roof of their car then driven off. When a member of the public found the document by the side of the road they delivered it to the customer, who was now jumping up and down asking questions about our security. Which was a big deal in our market. The problem was, it was my customer. The thing that saved me was that the document had an accompanying letter that explained it was found between Bath and Chippenham, in a town called Corsham, nowhere near anywhere I would be.
There was a feeling like the Sales Director wanted to gather all the sales staff with pitchforks and drive me out of town.
Eventually the witch-hunt came to rest on the project manager called Dorothy. She'd taken the contract to review what she would be expected to deliver as part of the contract.
She'd realised she had lost the document on her travels and reported it to her line manager, who hadn't shared it with the sales director yet.
Because it was a senior member of staff and they had an accidental security incident that they immediately reported there was no question of her being sacked, but there was mandatory security training for all and a revised process for documenting who had checked out documents.

My boss, Dan, the sales director made it clear that he thought my handling of the documents was shockingly bad even though I had no reason to know anyone had taken it and no part to play in the loss. Anything I said in my defence was taken as challenging his authority and I gave up and went back to my desk fuming.
When I finally made it home I was twitchy and anxious.

I took a long bath, with bubbles and shaved all the bits that should be shaved and moisturised after I dried myself.

I sat and watched a rom-com while eating chocolate ice-cream with reduced sugar while wearing my pink fluffy dressing gown. It felt fantastically girly and I calmed down. I called Kathryn and we bitched about work, and life and male directors.

-0-0-

The next day, when I awoke, I was still feeling anxious. I decided to wear women's knickers under my suit. No one would ever know and it would be a girly talisman to help me hang on to the calmness I felt when I was more feminine.

It was the first time I'd ever worn anything feminine to work.

The traffic was heavy, and I was late.
When I got to my desk there was a letter in a sealed envelope marked 'private and confidential'.
Inside there was a compliment slip with a note saying:
"Please come to the HR office and ask for Julie Stevens immediately."
With more than a little trepidation I went to HR.
I didn't know Julie, but I knew she dealt with Dan.
When I got to the office and asked for Julie, a young woman got up, she looked very serious.

"Ah, Andy… can you come with me?" she said.

Julie led me to the HR director's room, next door to the office. The director was out. I knew this was the room they used for privacy for disciplinary meetings and the like. But only Julie was here and normally your line manager was supposed to be present too.
Julie gestured for me to sit, she perched on the edge of the desk and retrieved a letter from her folder.
She looked down at it, took a deep breath and said "Andy, we've received an anonymous letter accusing you of 'wearing women's clothing'".

Virtually Feminine - Part 8 - Forced out


Andy's meeting with Julie takes an unexpected direction.

Julie gestured for me to sit, she perched on the edge of the desk and retrieved a letter from her folder.
She looked down at it, took a deep breath and said "Andy, we've received an anonymous letter accusing you of 'wearing women's clothing'".

Part 8 - Forced out

"So.." said Julie with a heavy sigh "How do you want to deal with this letter?"
"What do you suggest?" I asked with a sinking heart.
"I despise this kind of hate crime!" Julie said "This is a copy of the original that I took as soon as I realised what it was. The original, and the envelope it came in are in a plastic bag. I don't know if the police can still use it as evidence but I'm happy to back you on whatever action you choose to take."

My mouth hung open. I'm not sure what I expected but I felt like this conversation had just taken a detour through the looking glass.

"So… I'm not in trouble?" I ventured.
"Why would you be in trouble? You didn't send this hateful letter. Frankly, whatever you do in private outside of company time is none of our business. It's not as though you were trying to put the company into disrepute, or anything is it?" Julie said.
"No! Not at all. My ex-wife barged her way into my house without an invitation and found me dressed…" I petered out.
"As a woman, yes. It's ok. I hate to be indelicate… is there something you would like to inform HR about?" Julie asked. She looked truly concerned for me.

My throat felt tight, but… maybe… maybe this was the opportunity to come clean? I'd been stalled for months. I kind of knew where I was heading but I had no map of how to get there. Maybe this was a silver lining with all the trimmings?

"Oh god" I muttered to myself "here goes nothing". Then louder to Julie I announced "I've been having gender issues for some months. I've been to my G.P. but the waiting list for adult referrals is ridiculous. I've been seeing a support group. Reading online and talking with some close friends. I… I think I'm Trans. I think I have gender dysphoria and it's been the cause of my depression".
"You poor woman" Julie said "I thought it must be something like that. My cousin came out as trans last year. The first we knew was when she tried to take her life. I know that I can't fully understand the pain that you are going through, but I do sympathize. But, this letter might be the ugly duck that laid the golden egg, as far as you are concerned!"
"I'm sorry? I have no idea what you mean by that?" I said.
Julie looked very pleased with herself. She said "Because of my cousin, I have looked into HR, personnel law and our medical benefits. Tell me, Andy, how long have you worked for us now?"
"Five years, roughly".
"Aha! I guess you didn't know that gender dysphoria is one of the conditions covered under our medical plan?" Julie said.
"I can honestly say it never occurred to me to enquire." I said. I thought to myself 'This could change everything '.
"I've looked into it and the cover is capped at £150,000 so as not to discriminate against F2M transitions, so you should be fine. Frankly, no one ever expected us to need to claim. But I guess your condition is more common than we thought?" Julie said with a smile.

That was the closest anyone other than Kathryn and the support group had ever come to calling me 'normal'. I smiled back.
"I guess it is!" I said "and I'm your first guinea pig for the process?"
"I think so" Julie said "Unless someone is keeping it confidential with Dianne being the only one who knows."
"Is that an option?" I asked.
"Of course, like all medical treatment. If you are sensitive about it we can keep it on a need to know basis with the HR director only." Julie left the implied question hanging in the air for a moment before she continued; "but, you should know, trans is one of the categories of people protected under our diversity policy. If you come out, you will receive the full protection of the policy and the HR team. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but it could be a very canny career move to be openly trans at the moment."

We talked for another two hours. Julie had to go away and come back with some documents and papers. I won't bore you with the details. Partly because it was a bit of a blur and I'm not sure that I remember them all myself. But the upshot was that Julie would provisionally register me as Trans for now, and inform Dianne, the HR director, but no one else. I would then be referred privately for treatment and, depending on the report from the doctor, they would discuss further options. I had to sign a declaration for Julie, so HR had a legal record of when I informed them of my status.

"For now, I'd like you to continue using the male toilets, if you don't mind? Or the disabled toilets on the ground floor? They're unisex." Julie said, she looked sad that she couldn't wave a wand and grant me access to all things feminine, but I was already sitting to pee most of the time now, it just felt more comfortable to me. Even if I was using the men's loos.
Doing anything else would risk a lynch mob, I'm pretty sure.

Julie gave me a copy of the declaration.
Then she got more serious and took up the copy of the letter again.
"I'm sorry to go back to the thing that started all this, but, what do you want to do about this letter? Do you know who it's from?" Julie asked.
"Well, it's clearly from my ex-wife. I'm guessing that she hasn't gone to her lawyer with this because he would have had to advise her not to do it… I'm guessing the best thing I can do, what will piss her off and not hurt my kids, is to ignore it and carry on with my life." I said.
"You're more forgiving than I would be, I think. But, I guess you must have loved her once?" Julie said.
"I guess, but I can't remember why. As far as I'm concerned my wife is dead and there's a soul-sucking bitch walking around in her skin now." I said.
"Now, now - you know sitting on the fence is not good for you, why don't you come out and tell me how you really feel!" Julie said with a chuckle.
"She's still the mother of my children?" I asked.
"Hmm, for now. Maybe you will be their other mother someday?" Julie asked with a smile.

-0-0-

Later that day I managed to tell Kathryn what had happened with HR.
"That bitch!" she exclaimed.
"I don't know, she seemed quite nice. But it did give me a turn at the start" I said with a smirk.
"Not Julie, you doofus, Linda!" Kathryn said with a pained roll of her eyes to underscore her point.
"Well, I kinda figured out Linda was a bitch sometime during the divorce" I said reasonably "but, yes… even by Linda's historically low standards, this is shit. I'm just happy something good seems to have come from it".
"I'll say, it never occurred to me that our company medical cover would be able to help like that. But it will mean more people will know. Is that what you want?" Kathryn asked.
"Well…" I sighed "I don't really see it as being any of their business, really. But, on the other hand, I can't deny that it will be nice… to be able to be my real self. For so long now, I've felt like a liar and a cheat. At first for pretending to be a girl, and then for pretending not to be a woman. It would be nice to just be… me, I guess".
"Whatever that is…" said Kathryn.
"Well, I'll admit I'm still a work in progress, but, aren't we all?" I asked.
"Ooh, how deep you are, now you have a little feminine insight!" Kathryn laughed.
"I'm kind of looking forward to discussing things with a gender specialist, you know? Someone I can open up to" I said.
"...and not be judged? I must admit, I'm a little sceptical about that, given the company is paying their bills" Kathryn said.
"I'm trusting medical ethics to keep me safe, I guess. Plus, Julie genuinely seemed to be on my side, she has a family member who is trans…" I said, trying to be vague enough not to drop anyone into the shit, including me.
"I'm guessing you're not going to say anymore than that, even if you know…" Kathryn said, musing.

I mimed locking my lips and throwing the keys.
Kathryn changed the subject.

"Are you coming as Andy or Cathy to my Thanksgiving party?" she asked.
"Am I invited? I am very British!" I said.
"As long as you make pumpkin pie, you can be an honourary yank" Kathryn said.
"Well, if I'm expected to bake, I better come as Cathy, I don't want people to think I'm gay!" I said.
Kathryn rolled her eyes again. "You don't have to wear red, white and blue or dress as an Indian or pilgrim or anything, just jeans and a t-shirt is fine…"
"Denim skirt and cowboy boots?" I asked.
"Err… ok, I guess…" she said.
"Don't worry, I'll find something… appropriate" I said.
Kathryn looked a little concerned, but I was getting better at dressing thanks to all my practice. I had a long 'old gold' dark yellow skirt, a white blouse, a boxy Tweed jacket and some flat suede boots that, combined with the skirt, might disguise how tall I was. It would all be quite autumnal. Especially with my Auburn wig. I was quite looking forward to it.

-0-0-

There wasn't much else exciting that happened between that invitation and the appointment with the specialist. Linda didn't mention the letter at all when I picked up the kids and there were no other incidents. Swimming lessons on Saturday, sandwiches from 'Loafers' sandwich shop, watching Doctor Who in the evening, everything was very normal.

Kevin claimed to be doing homework most of Sunday, but we both know he was playing on the PC in his room. Rachael followed me round as I did housework, washed and ironed their schools clothes (and sewed on buttons and repaired them, how did Linda let their clothes get in this state, this wasn't damage from one day?)

Rachael 'helped' peeling carrots and other things when I started cooking dinner. She left me in a heartbeat when my Mum rang the doorbell.

We had a nice Sunday roast dinner. I told Mum I had an appointment with a specialist in the week but I didn't get a chance to go into detail. I was quite aware that Linda wasn't above pumping the kids for information on Monday night.

I ironed my suit and shirt while I watched TV that night after Mum helped me get the kids to bed and then left. I made our sandwiches for the next day and put them in the fridge. Doing them in the morning would be better, but getting them both up and into school so that I could get to work on time was difficult enough without putting the pressure of preparing food on me as well.

There was there usual running around shouting for the kids to hurry on Monday morning then dropping them off with a last kiss and driving off leaving them to walk into school.

Linda complained a couple of years ago that she didn't get a kiss at the school gates anymore, I don't insist, but I offer, and they still want a hug and a kiss.

Then work… the week seemed to drag. The appointment was on Thursday. I didn't have a lot of information, just an address and time.

Virtually Feminine - Part 9 - the Appointment


Andy gets his first appointment following his referral.

Part 9 - the appointment

Thursday seemed to take forever to arrive and then, when it finally appeared everything felt rushed.

Of course, my big problem was whether to go as Andy or Cathy.

The appointment letter gave no indication as to which was expected. I decided to play it safe and go as Andy. I was being referred to them as part of my employment as Andy and my legal name was Andy, so… they should meet Andy first.
Then I spent days second guessing and over thinking what message that would send and whether they would think I was taking it and was a fraud.

In the end, I decided to go as Andy in fairly unisex clothing but with knickers instead of underpants and a ladies leather rucksack with a change of clothes and makeup for Cathy.

It may sound trivial to you, but choosing what to wear was increasingly becoming a minefield for me. I stressed out so much about unintentionally 'outing' myself, but I needed a touchstone or token of femininity to remain calm. I felt suffocated if I just wore traditionally male clothes now. I felt I had to have something frilly, lacy or pink to hang on to as proof that I was female inside.

I'd taken the day off for the appointment, it was a private appointment but it was in an NHS hospital in London. I’d driven into Hammersmith and parked in the Kings Mall. Normally I would have then taken the tube to anywhere in London (I'd never drive in Central London), but Hammersmith was the nearest tube stop to the hospital, so I walked. It was quite a trek - note to self, never attempt this journey in high heels! I’d never have found it without Google maps. Kathryn, bless her, had offered to come with me but I had told her 'I'm a big girl now!'
"Not so big, anymore" she said " you must have list 30lbs!"
"Three stone, actually, but who's counting?" I said.

As I went into the waiting room I caught my reflection in a glass door. I looked like a non-descript middle-aged guy. Boring.
I guessed my life was about to get more interesting.

I went into the waiting room. It was quite busy and then were males and females of all ages. I couldn't tell for sure if any of them were here for gender-related issues, although one lady looked like she may have started as a man. There wasn't any one thing I could put my finger in, just a general impression. I wasn't going to be rude and stare, or ask.

I got called in with a curt ‘Smith?’ from a nurse. She took me to a room and started going through some details to check I was the right Andy Smith. Another person, the nurse called her a ‘phlebotomist’ came and took some blood samples. The nurse took my blood pressure and asked some general questions then I was asked to go back out to the waiting room.

After about 15 minutes a young women, smartly but casually dressed came out a called ‘Smith?’.
She introduced herself as Dr. Boobyer and showed me to her office. She winced as she mentioned her name.
“I know, I couldn’t have made it up!” she said “It’s even worse because it’s my husband’s surname, I took it before I got into this field of medicine”.
There was something very human and disarming about how embarrassed she was by her name.

“Right,” she said, once we were sat down “I see you’re a private referral, you’re very lucky, the waiting lists can be horrendous. Have you read the leaflet? Do you know what to expect?”
“Not really, it’s all happened fairly quickly, I’ve been waiting for months on a GP referral then my HR team said that this was covered under my company scheme” I said.
“OK. Well… Don’t be afraid to ask if you don’t understand anything, just let me know if there are any words or terms that you don’t understand and I’ll try and clarify it for you. If you have any questions that I haven’t answered before you leave, for heaven’s sake, let me know. It’s much easier to answer them quickly now. Please take notes, if you’d like to. I’ll let you have some leaflets and things when you leave, but this is about exploring how we can help you and what’s best for you”.
“OK” I said.
“We’ve taken some samples and run some tests to establish your basic levels of health. The nurse asked whether you were a smoker and you told her, ‘no’, correct?” the doctor asked.
I confirmed this.
“OK, we have a note from your HR team that you’ve officially informed them that you have been having ‘gender issues’ and dressing as a woman outside of work. We’ll take the date of that official notification as the start of your real life trial, if that’s what you want to do?”
“Real life trial?” I asked.
“Well, I’m assuming, if you are already dressing as a woman outside of work that you’re serious about socialising as a woman, given that you have asked your HR team to be referred here?” she asked.
“I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to progress that way for months now…” I admitted.
“Are there any particular reasons why you shouldn’t present as female in your workplace?” she asked.
“Aside from the obvious?” I asked.
“Ms. Smith, I am not going to insult your intelligence or your need to be a woman. The fact that you are here, and you’ve spoken with your GP and your HR team shows that this is not some idle fancy. We are not going to do anything drastic until you have been through some guidance and counselling and until the second appointment, at least. We won’t be prescribing blockers or hormones or any of the things you read in some of the more fanciful stories in the media. I’m assuming, from all the information we’ve gathered so far, that your next step will be a social gender role transition?” she said.
“Social?” I said, confused.
“Living your life in the role of a woman,” she explained “Tell me, are there any particular reasons why that would present a problem?”
“I would need to expand my feminine wardrobe!” I said with a small smile.
Dr Boobyer laughed. “Yes, of course. But you are happy to go ahead and you have friends and family who will support you?”
“Yes, I think so…” I said.
“Good, I know this will be quite a step, but it's been my experience that for someone at this stage in the process that this is best done decisively. You will know within a week or so whether this is the right step for you or whether you have had a narrow escape and you will go back to cross-dressing occaisinally and having a more feminie side that you let out sometimes” the doctor said with a smile, “I will give you the details of a service that will monitor you and provide support back home”.
“A psychologist?” I asked.
“A Psychiatric practice” she said “they can provide you in-depth help, not just psychological therapy. They can help you understand yourself better and recognise if things are getting to be too much for you. I see that you have been suffering from depression?”
“Yes, I was… but, since I’ve come to recognise my feminine nature it’s not been such a problem” I said.
“That’s not uncommon. A lot of people struggle to admit to themselves what the causes of the stresses they are living under are. Once they acknowledge them and deal with them more effectively, they can often be much happier!” she said, "So… do you have any questions for me?"

This left me reeling a bit. This referral was going to mark the start of my transition to womanhood and, rather than an in-depth discussion and drilling into the reasons for me feeling this way and explaining how best to proceed it just felt like a line drawn in shifting sands, a formality to be dealt with as expediently as possible.

"Er?..." I began "I have so many questions that I don't know where to begin" I said, lamely.
"I know dear… if it's any consolation, I know that this referral is not what you were hoping and waiting for. But until you actually make the decision to actually be a woman, out in the world, there's not really much more that we can do to help you. It is an enormous step, I know, but anything else is dependent on you deciding what side of the fence you wish to be once and for all. If you want to be a woman in the privacy of your own home, each day, then that's your choice. We don't need to do anymore, just get you to talk with the psychiatric service, to address some of your causes for the depression. Anything more than that will fundamentally change how you interact with the rest of the world, legally, medically and socially. Legal lags behind social and medical. Medical… well, we need to see. I don't want to promise miracles, because there aren't any magic wands, but these days there are treatments that can make your body seem more feminine, how much more feminine you need to be depends on you. We don't go further than you need to be comfortable in your skin. Some trans women don't need any medical intervention for that, some need complete GRS and cosmetic surgery. Social changes are not our department, I'm afraid. We can't change how your friends and relatives interact with you, that's largely down to you, I'm afraid. From what I hear, you've already got contacts in the trans community and some friends who can help there. I'm sure they will be more effective than I could be?" the doctor paused for breath here and waited for me to nod.

"I can give you a 'carry letter' that will ease the way with your bank, local government and the police, should you be stopped for speeding, for example. As I mentioned, the legal interactions lag behind the social. You can tell everyone you are a woman today, but changing your name and getting updated legal documents is a tedious process. Your support group will probably be able to help you there. I'm sorry to say that you will probably find it hard the first few weeks, you will find out who your real friends are, they may not be who you think. Your HR team will have their own policies for toilets and dress codes, I'm sure. My advice for 'public appearances' and public conveniences is 'be discrete' until all else fails and then act as if you are entirely in the right, even when you feel you aren't." she continued "Well, here are the leaflets, here is the letter, and here is a copy of your referral to the service. I wish you luck and we'll see you next month".

And with that, I was dismissed. She turned back to her computer and I got up and left. I made my way back home in a daze. Thinking about what I was going to do next.