Shauna
I am typing away at my computer in my recliner while Tina, my wife, watches TV on the couch beside me. I just got my Surface Pro 3 yesterday and the keyboard is a little louder than on my old computer, so, after a bit, she asks, “Rob, what are you click-click-clicking about so much on your computer over there?” My heart rate rapidly rises as I quickly think up a lie, “Oh, nothing really… It is just a journal I decided to start keeping for work…” She nods…accepting the statement. I don’t really ever lie to her, so she has no reason to think it is not the truth. I hate deceiving her, but I can’t let her know that I am writing the next chapter of my transgender fiction to post online—another one that outlines my deepest desires and truest fantasies…
I carefully save the document to my cloud-based folder and log off of my computer… It will now require my password to get back in. Tina is not hugely computer-literate and has her own laptop…I have her password because she hates routine maintenance chores on her computer, which I take care of for her. She, however, does not have the password to get into my computer, so my stories are safe…
We go to bed—it is still strange to me to go to bed with my wife. We have only been married for a little over a month. We only dated six months before that. I love her—I really do… I just wish that I could love her in another body…and that she would still love me…but, alas, I don’t think she has any bisexual or lesbian tendencies… Nor the desire to be wed to…a freak…of nature…
The next week goes by without any issues to speak of. In the evenings, after we both settle in, I write in ‘my journal’ and Tina either watches TV or reads a book. She is an avid reader and is currently reading this fantasy series that she is currently into. She looks over at me typing and says, “This series is just awesome. It is apparent that the author has done her homework... Even though it is fantasy—with a lot of SciFi elements—the details are rich and just, well believable…” I nod and complete typing my sentence before I say, “Yes, I am sure that writing fantasy is not as easy as it may seem. I mean, if you have experience in some things, it makes it more believable. Good fantasy is often grounded in plausible reality.” She smiles and says, “Can you get me another drink?” I smile at her and say, “Of course…it would be my pleasure to be your server tonight.” She giggles and I put my computer down to go to the kitchen—forgetting to lock it before I go; something I never do… I don’t know why I did not at that moment, but…well, I guess I just got complacent and caught up in the moment…
When I come back in from the little kitchen area, Tina is reading the draft of my newest chapter—the one where my character (me in my fantasy world) is embracing being turned into a girl… I almost drop the glass and gasp. Tina looks up at me, the obvious question in her eyes… I sigh, think really quickly, and lie….again, “OK, I wish you would not have read that… I have been writing this transgender fantasy series and posting it online… It is sort of a hobby, I guess. Frankie told me that a website that she frequents needed some authors to write some quality stories…” Frankie is my transgendered friend from high school. Tina is totally cool with her and we go out on a regular basis together. But, not even Frankie realizes that deep down I wish I could be as brave as she had been… I continue, “So, I decided to give it a try… I get quite a few hits on my stories…and a fair number of likes. A few have even suggested I try my hand at publishing on Amazon…”
Tina looks at me for a few minutes and just says, “Why wouldn’t you tell me? There is really nothing to be embarrassed about. Can I read some of your other stuff?” I sigh and say, “Of course. But remember, this is for a rather different audience than you would normally read…” I log onto the website and go to the ‘My Stories’ page. Tina looks at me and asks, “Barbie?” I just smile awkwardly and say, “Well, I wasn’t going to use my real name…” She says, “My…you have quite a list of stories here…” And she clicks on the first one.
A little over an hour later she looks up from the computer and says, “You are right, this is not my genre, but you have a real talent… How do you know so much about this, though?” I had been thinking about that question coming up over the past hour and say, “Well, you know…Frankie. I mean I picked up a few things from her transition…” It was only a half-lie. She nods slowly and says, “Well, the comments you have gotten are pretty positive… I think you could do better, though… I mean as a girl, I can tell you that the female ‘feelings’ you are expressing are not quite there… What does Frankie think of your writing?” I blush, in spite of myself, and say, “Frankie doesn’t know that I am writing these… I have kept it entirely to myself… That is also one of the reasons that I have not even attempted to do anything with Amazon… How would I have explained that…?”
Tina looks at me harshly and says, “Raymond Beauregard Boudain—you know better than to keep things from me! You can tell me anything! SO, what ELSE have you been hiding?” I shrink down a little bit and say in a very small voice, “Nothing! Nothing at all…” She gives me a hard look and shakes her head. Finally, she says, “I don’t know whether to believe you or not… Regardless…you have piqued my curiosity. You seem to have a small following that could be much bigger… If we can…educate…you in certain things, I think you could actually be a success on Amazon and make us some money. What do you think? Would you be up to gaining some experience as a girl…to make your fantasy stories more realistic? I think it could be a tipping point for you as an author in the genre.”
I almost start hyperventilating in excitement. I pull myself together. I can’t act too eager… This is manna from heaven! I say, “I don’t know… What are you thinking? It sounds…I don’t know…embarrassing…” Tina giggles and says, “Nonsense! Are you saying I am embarrassing?” I roll my eyes; I know she is trying to manipulate me… If she only knew! I say, “No, Dear. Not at all… What did you have in mind, exactly…?”
I am so excited I am nearly ready to wet my pants. Tina misinterprets my excitement for nervousness—which is fine by me. She says, “Settle down, Hon, it is just a spa appointment. It just seemed like a good place to start. I read the chapters where your characters start…transitioning…and they just did not resonate… I think this experience will be good for you…” When she had suggested adding me on to her afternoon session at her sister’s spa, I had nearly feinted with joy… I will have to navigate this carefully, though...I can’t give them anything to get suspicious about!
My plan is to act nervous and just let Tina—and her sister, Emma—make the decisions… If I play this right, it could lead to more…and better things… To my horror and chagrin, Tina had told her sister all about my ‘hobby’. To my surprise, she had not laughed… She seemed eager to help Tina in her quest to broaden my experience to better my writing. So…I find myself stripping down to my briefs and putting on a pink satin robe with the spa’s name embroidered on it—guys just don’t come here... I pull the belt tight and finish tying it—marveling at the cool sensation of the fabric.
I walk out of the private dressing room and meet up with Tina who had changed next door to me. Emma introduces me to Susi and Rita…the girls that will be giving us our ‘experience’ for the afternoon; Tina already knows them it seems. Susi is going to be ‘my’ girl and Emma asks, “OK, ‘Barbie’, what is your pleasure today?” I blush at the name, but only because I think she is making fun of me. I shrug and say, “I have no idea… Whatever Tina is having, I guess…?”
Susi giggles and says, “OK, one platinum experience coming right up. I do have to warn you that it is a bit… over-the-top girly. Are you sure?” Tina smiles and says, “It is all in the name of research… I am sure ‘Barbie’ can handle it!” All of the girls giggle and I am led into the next room…
Over the next several hours, my skin is waxed, plucked, rubbed, buffed, and mud-packed. My natural nails, which I typically neglect, are shaped, filed, buffed, and coated in clear polish.
I am laying back in the hot, heavily scented and jetted water of the Jacuzzi next to Tina and reflecting on the events of the past couple of hours. The waxing had hurt, but I barely noticed it; I was so ecstatic (and trying not to show it). I had gasped loudly when I saw my newly shaped eyebrows—they are now feminine in every aspect of the word; highly arched and tapered to the sharpest of points. Susi had looked at me in concern and asked, “Too much? They will grow back!” I had just shaken my head and given her a ‘forced’ weak smile—in reality, I had wanted to hug her and scream!
There had been two things that did shake me a bit, though. The first was the bikini wax—Susi had just said, “Don’t be silly! It is just us girls, right? I promise you, you don’t have anything I haven’t already seen…” THAT did hurt! The other surprise was the spray tan. I did not realize what they were up to until I stood in this cabinet with nozzles in various places in the wall. I had a shower cap on…along with a disposable bikini bottom and top. Susi had just said, “OK raise your arms up—straight out from your sides… Good girl… Now stand completely still!” I nearly jumped out of my skin when the dye started coming out of the nozzles—evenly coating me and darkening me to a golden brown… Except for the now conspicuous ‘tan lines’… That one really did throw me for a bit of a loop… It is not that I typically went around shirtless…but, I was going to have to be extra careful for a while… I am sure Emma and Co. are having a good laugh at my expense on that one!
I look over at Tina in the other tub and smile. She asks over the noise of the jets, “So, what do you think?” I laugh and say, “Well, aside from the torture… It was really nice. I can see why girls get addicted to this sort of thing.” Tina giggles and says, “Well, we can certainly get you a standing booking!” I roll my eyes and quickly turn my head to hide my blush.
An hour later, we are riding back to the apartment. I know that aside from my eyebrows and my new ‘tan’ that there is nothing really visible… Well aside from my hairless arms and legs and my now perfectly manicured nails… I have a slight panic attack and Tina calms me down, “It is OK, Sweetie. Just act as if nothing has changed…I promise most people won’t notice things like the missing hair on your arms and legs…or your nails. Lots of guys get waxed these days—and get mani-pedis. And, your eyebrows? Some people might notice, but I can guarantee that if they even figure out what is different, they won’t say anything.
I sit there as Tina drives and think. I have wanted this my whole life! I need to stop panicking! I know it is only a slight reprieve of sanctioned heaven, but I need to make the most of it! I smile over at her as she pulls into our apartment complex’s parking lot. I say in a shaky voice (not put on in any way), “I guess you are right, Hon. It is just so…different! I know I have written about this a hundred times, but actually experiencing it is…” Fantastic! Exhilarating! SO, SO, SO RIGHT! “…interesting. Even the bit about the clothes is true…” She looks over at me as we get out of the car with a questioning look. I shrug and say, “With my skin hairless and softened up with all that pampering today, my clothes are…rough. I felt yours when they brushed over me as we were getting dressed…they are much softer… It is…” SO UNFAIR! “…well.. I just don’t know that I believed that it made that much difference really—until now. It makes me wonder if what they say about the hormones is true…” Tina just gives me a look and then giggles, “Oh! You are teasing me! Stop, Silly!”
We take the elevator to the tenth floor of the building and go into our small apartment. Tina says, “You write me a sample of your experience today—as if it is one of your stories—while I make us some supper. I want to see if there is a difference in your perspective and writing!” I nod and sit down at my computer while she goes to the little kitchen area. It seems really strange being able to openly write my story…
Forty minutes later, we have a simple, but exquisite dinner—Tina is an awesome cook. Normally, I would at least help with the clean-up; or just do it myself—since she cooked. Tonight, she says, “You finish your little sampler… I will clean up; then I want to read what you have…” She goes back into the little kitchen area and I hear the clanking of dishes as she washes them. I go back to my computer and put the finishing touches on my little sample-tale. I decide to stray from the genre that I typically gravitate towards; forced femme. I go there a lot, because, subconsciously, it seems like the only way to get to where I really want to get… I have locked myself into my life and will never have the courage to go there on my own… But, for this story, since I had the luxury of experiencing the day…well, in the open…I go with a sweet and sentimental beginning of the ‘journey’; a psychological girl finding her way to a physical one. One with a lot of support from friends and family… I quickly wipe a tear from my eye as I hear Tina finishing up the last of the dishes and print it out.
I hand the short printout to her as she comes in. It would constitute the first chapter in one of my normal series on the web…3000 words or less. It does not take her long to read it. When she is done, she has tears in her eyes. She looks at me and says, “Wow! And this after just one afternoon at the spa? This is so much different than your other stories… So…heartfelt… Yes, some of the detail is much better…more accurate… But, that is not the only difference… I mean…”
Suddenly she gasps and says, “O…M…G! This is you, isn’t it? I mean your fantasy… You want to be a girl!
Suddenly she gasps and says, “O…M…G! This is you, isn’t it? I mean your fantasy… You want to be a girl!
At that moment, I face a terrible decision and my life flashes before my eyes… Not what has happened in it, so far--rather my future life… I see my divorce, my public ridicule and humiliation, my friends and family disowning me… I feel tears start to come to my eyes and urgently fight them back. How do I answer this? Truthfully? Do I deflect? Do I just deny it…?
I look at her with genuine red-faced shock. Then I fake a laugh and say, “What in the world are you talking about? I mean, yes, in a sense you are right… I put myself in that person’s shoes—the best I could… That is how I write these stories; it is sort of like acting. The more I can understand how that person should feel or act, the better I can write the story… The spa treatment today gave me a bit of an edge on some things that I really could only imagine up to now. That was just enough for me to take it up a notch.”
She slowly nods, confusion still showing in her eyes. Then, several heart-stopping moments later, she seems to buy it. She nods more firmly and says, “Yeah, I guess you are right. It just seemed so real--like I was reading about you.” I give her a mock bow and say, “Thank you, Milady!” Feeling more confident that my secret is still safe, I give her a cheeky grin. She says, “But, if what you are saying is true, then you are still in need of a lot of ‘training’ if you are going to write an entire novel at as high a quality as that sampler. I have some ideas for tomorrow… For now, ‘Barbie’—let’s go to bed and play!”
I wake up first and look over at Tina sleeping soundly next to me. She is cuddled up against me and her silk nighty rubs up against mine as I move—it is exhilarating. She had insisted I wear it to get to know the feel of the material against my smooth, hairless skin. That is, she had me put it back on after we had discarded each other’s and gotten to know the feeling of both of our smooth, hairless bodies rubbing up against each other in some amazing hot and steamy sex.
I carefully get out of bed, making sure not to wake her, and pad into the kitchen to make our morning coffee. It is just about done brewing—the heavenly smell of the vanilla-flavored beans wafting throughout the apartment—when she walks in and puts her arms around me from behind. She nuzzles my neck and says, “Good morning, Lover. I like you in that sexy nighty!” I know she is teasing me, but I grin none-the-less, since she can’t see it. I wipe off the grin and swivel around in her embrace to face her. She has an impish grin on her face as she says, “I think I will keep you in one of these for a while. You were amazing last night…” I almost giggle, but catch myself just in time. I smile and say, “So were you!” I kiss her and ask, “Coffee?”
After we shower together—another amazing experience with smooth skin—she has me rub lotion into my whole body. She says, “You will find that you will dry out more easily—not as bad as if you were shaving—but… Anyway, I…liked…your soft skin last night… I had forg… I mean, it felt really nice.” She blushes. I can’t believe it! Maybe I can milk this into something more permanent… I just have to play it carefully…let her think it is her idea. I finish rubbing in the last of the lotion and say, “Anything for you, Sweetie. Like you said, I guess a lot of guys get waxed these days. I don’t think I am the type that would generally fall into that category—I mean I am not all muscled or Mr. Universe. But, I think I could get used to the smooth skin…” YES! PLEASE! She smiles and hands me a bottle of facial moisturizer. She says, “OK, then you are going to start taking care of all of your skin!” I roll my eyes at her. OMG! I think I am in heaven!
We leave our little bathroom and go into the bedroom. I start to go to my underwear drawer—already dreading what I am about to do. Tina says, “Hon, I think you should wear some of my panties…you know to get to know the feeling.” I turn around in true shock and ask, “You mean it? I mean…it could be a good idea, I guess…” Can this day get any better? She wants me to wear her panties! And here I have been fighting with myself for weeks to stay out of that drawer… She hands me a hot pink pair of bikini briefs with lace and a cute little bow on the front. She says, “I know this is your favorite pair on me.” She giggles, “Now you can see how much that lace tickles!”
I take the panties and pull them on. She looks at me expectantly—I don’t really know why. I blush at her scrutiny and ask, “What? They are just panties… But, you are right—the lace does tickle a little.” She says, “Oh, I don’t know… I guess I expected your little guy to come to life…” I roll my eyes for real this time and say, “That is only for cross-dressers or transvestites that get a sexual pleasure out of wearing women’s clothes…” She gives me another strange look. I shrug my shoulders and say, “Well, it is not like I haven’t done some research for my stories!” O…M…G…! These feel so GOOD! No…so RIGHT! And now that bikini wax was SO worth it!
She says, “Well, OK, Mr. Researcher—did you also research how to get rid of that bulge? It won’t go along with my plans for the day…” Of course I know how… I say, “Well, I did come across some websites, but it isn’t something I really dwelled on…” …for more than hours a day…wishing…I could do it…permanently… Better yet…just get rid of the ‘package’, as she calls it… She nods and says, “Show me…”
Twenty minutes later, I am putting on a homemade gaff—one that she crafted out of an old pair of pantyhose according to the instructions on a website that I know well… She makes me do it right, too… Once I am satisfactorily flat for her, she lets me put the panties back on. Then she hands me the matching bra. I give her a questioning look. She says, “You have the tan lines to prove you need this.” And she giggles so hard that she has tears in her eyes. I wait until she is done and say, “Yeah…about that. That was mean!” And I LOVE you for it! She starts giggling again, but catches herself and says, “We couldn’t resist! You wanted the platinum package! Now, let’s get that on. You really need to know what it feels like to wear one of those all day… Lucky for you that I am not Dolly Parton!”
She helps me into the bra and adjusts the straps so that it sits correctly. Wow! I had no idea it pulled your shoulders back like this. She nods when she is satisfied and gets out a pair of silicone breast enhancers. I didn’t even know she had those. It is almost like she is reading my mind when she says, “I don’t really know why I kept these from my teenage years…just sentimentality, I guess.” She inserts them into the bra’s cups. I jump a little. Yikes! Those are cold! She grins and says, “Don’t worry, they will warm up in a bit. I am not going for a huge bust on you… As a matter of fact, I don’t really think you want it to show at all—am I right?” What? Why not? HELL YES, I do! I shake my head and say, “No, I don’t think that would be good.” She nods and adjusts some more on the bra as she says, “This is a special bra that is fully adjustable… I am just adjusting it so that it is not in ‘push-up’ mode…”
She says, “You know, it is funny… I never really noticed that we are basically the same size…” She pulls out a pair of her jeans and hands them to me. She says, “Try these on—I think they should fit… They are lower-waisted than guys jeans, but otherwise they are not too girly…aside from maybe being boot-cut.” I take the jeans, trying to hide my shaking hands. She notices and, of course, misinterprets my excitement for nervousness. She says as I pull them on, “Don’t worry, Sweetie, I really don’t think anyone will notice they are girl’s jeans…” I button them and close the really short zipper. I look in the mirror and aside from the hips and butt not being filled out correctly, the stretchy material molds itself to me. The pink lace of the panties is barely peeking out of the top of the very low waist.These feel like HEAVEN! How do I convince her to let me wear these forever? She smiles and says, “See? They look really nice on you. Actually, they look a lot better than your normal ones…”
She gives me one of her pale-pink silky camisoles and I put it on with a questioning look… She just smiles and pulls out a girl’s shirt that is cut to look like a boy’s. It is SO unfair! Why can there be ‘boy-cut’ girl’s clothes and not ‘girl-cut’ boy’s clothes? She hands it to me and says, “This is loose enough on me that I think it will be fine to hide your ‘boobs’. I also don’t think anyone will notice that the buttons are on the wrong side… I mean, who really looks at things like that, right?” I shrug and say, “I guess you are right… I just am not sure what this is all about…” I pull on the shirt and awkwardly button it up. She is right. I doubt anyone will notice that the buttons are smaller than they should be—or on the wrong side for a guy. If only I could convince her that this should be my normal daily wear… I finish buttoning it up to the top. She giggles and undoes the top couple of buttons…just low enough that I don’t look like a Victorian prude, but also don’t show any ‘cleavage’ or the cami. She says, “It would actually be more noticeable buttoned all of the way up… Not even guys do that—unless they are wearing a tie…right?”
I start to tuck in the shirt, but she playfully slaps my hands and says, “No, leave it untucked. You will just have to pay attention if you bend down…so that you don’t show off your lacy panties!” She giggles and says, “Welcome to a girl’s world—just wait until we get to skirts!” She giggles more at the look on my face—again misinterpreting the meaning. She just says, “Not that I would make you wear one out in public…but, you will need to know the ins and outs of skirts and dresses…” I really HAVE died and gone to heaven! This is proof… What am I going to do when this all ends, though??
After I put on a pair of her low-cut, white socks—realistically they are no different than mine (just that they are ‘officially’ girl’s!)—I put on my normal sports shoes. Tina gets ready herself at this point; she is wearing basically the same thing as me…only a more feminine version…and she leaves her shirt unbuttoned, showing off the camisole. She says, “OK, come on, Sweetie. Emma is waiting for us.” I give her the millionth questioning look of the morning and she says, “We did not have time to do anything with your hair yesterday…plus…well, we have some other ideas, too. Trust me?” I smile and kiss her, “Of course!” And…the girlier, the better… Well, to a point… I DO have to be able to hide all of this… If ONLY I DIDN’T…
I am sitting in Emma’s chair. She is running her fingers through my medium-length hair—for a guy that is. I have always wanted to grow it out, but was afraid that might tip someone off… So, it is sort of a…well, an old-fashioned mop is a good comparison, I guess… Emma says, “I have been itching to get my hands on this ever since I first met you! Let’s see what we can do with it. It is too short for longer feminine styles, but that is not what you want anyway… You need a short feminine style that emulates a boy’s cut… That way, it is really a girl’s cut…but most people won’t recognize it as such…” I shake my head. Again! Something that is a ‘girl’s’—but looks like a ‘boy’s’… It is SO unfair! To cover myself, I just say, “Most people…?” She smiles and says, “Well, you won’t confuse a hair stylist… I would pick up on it, for example…”
Twenty minutes later, she is blow-drying my new ‘pixie-cut’. She puts in some ‘products’ and explains to me how to do it myself to get different looks. When she does it one way, it looks very boyish. When she does it another, it looks quite impish and…girlie… OK, so this is obviously my preferred way!
I start to get up out of the chair, but Tina says, “Wait a sec, Sweetie. Emma and I talked and we think we can get away with a few more…lessons… We are starting to reach the border of getting into openly ‘feminine’—but you are—and look—young enough that we can get away with a few more things…” I give her an expectant look and ask, “Like what? I mean this hairstyle is pretty awesome, since I can sort of play it either way… What else can I do?” She smiles and says, “Well, we can start with piercing your ears.” I gasp… Holy…! OH YES! PLEASE! …and she hurries on to say, “Again, lots of guys have both ears pierced now—even multiple times, if you want… And you can always let them grow back if you decide you don’t want them later. I think you might actually be cute with them pierced.” She smiles and her dimples show—telling me she is a little embarrassed at that admission. I just smile back at her and nod as Emma gets the necessary equipment.
I am amazed that it really doesn’t hurt to get the lobes pierced. I am ‘outvoted’ and both ears get pierced twice—with fake diamond studs in the back holes. It does however hurt a bit as they replace the front studs with special (diamond-crusted) starter hoops that will let the holes heal correctly. Wow! Look at that sparkle…together with this hair! Now all I need is makeup… Sigh… Both Emma and Tina smile at my reflection in the mirror. Emma says, “You were right, Tink!” That is what she has always called Tina. She says, “He does look cute!” I feel my face burn bright red. Tina hugs me from behind and says, “It is nothing to be embarrassed about! I love the look!”
She hesitates then and I can tell she wants to say something else. I just wait…staring at the emerging girl in the mirror… One that I am going to have be careful not to get attached to. SIGH Finally, she says, “Ok, Hon. You are doing great—this should give you quite a bit more to process for one day… But, well…Ems and I thought…maybe just a touch of makeup?” YES! YES, YES, YES! I give her a (I hope) timid look and say, “What did you have in mind?”
A few minutes later, I am laying back in a different chair and Emma is spreading cream on my face. I vaguely remember the same stuff from yesterday. She says, “You don’t have a heavy beard, but you will need to use this depilatory anytime you don’t it to be visible… For now, you really need to use it daily. There is a chance you may develop a reaction to it, though. It is a pretty nasty chemical. Normally, we would just laser the hair the hair away…” She lets the cream sit a few minutes, then carefully wipes it away with tissues. Then she washes and moisturizes my skin.
An hour later, I know why Emma’s and Tina’s lashes are so long and thick… Yes, it is somewhat because of the heavy black mascara they use… It is mostly because of the individual eyelash ‘extensions’ that are glued to their eyelids. Emma tells me that they will last about six months with proper care. She coats mine with clear mascara…after drawing a micro-thin line with black eyeliner on both lids. I look in the mirror when she is done and I have the same ‘butterfly’ look that both of them have—just not so…bold… OMG! Look at my eyes! They POP! But it is not…in your face… You have to really look hard to see anything ‘unnatural’ at all—and you have to be really up close… But… I know it is there. THIS IS SO FREAKIN’ AWESOME! I say, “Wow… I just always thought you guy’s eyelashes were naturally long and thick…” Emma and Tina both giggle.
As a final touch, Emma puts some sort of balm on my lips. It tingles and it feels like my lips are swelling! I say in a worried tone, “What was that, Emma? It feels like I am having a reaction to it!” She places a comforting hand on mine and says, “It is just a lip-plumping balm. It is supposed to tingle.” I look at my lips in the mirror and see that they have a sort of natural soft shine. They are also redder and plumper than normal. Emma says, “The effect will only last about an hour. Keep this with you and use it about every forty-five minutes, or so, to keep up the look… It is also quite a good balm…it will soften and heal those nasty chapped lips of yours…”
She messes with my hair one more time and stands me up in front of a mirror. I look at myself critically… I look…asexual, at best. But I FEEL so good—just knowing that I am wearing girl’s clothes and makeup… I almost feel…whole… Tina asks, “Well, what do you think?” I smile and say, “I think I can work with this…It may take a bit to all sink in, though.”
Tina smiles and hugs me. She whispers in my ear, “Take all the time you need… You are starting to turn me on a bit…you little baddie…”
The next week goes by, well heavenly. The animal clinic where I work as a licensed veterinary technician has a strict uniform policy… The corporate scrubs are mostly unisex (although there are some more feminine styles), so clothes are no big deal at work. I am the only ‘guy’ in the female dominated clinic; and they do tease me a bit at first about my earrings…and my eyebrows…and my hair… They notice first thing—but only because they know me so well. For some reason, they don’t say anything about my lashes or eyeliner, though…
The teasing quickly fades away, however. Thankfully, there is no way for them to know that I am wearing girl’s underwear, including my bra and camisole, under the scrubs. The gaff is a bit of a challenge, at first, but I quickly figure out that if I just sit to pee, it is not that big a deal.
I spend my evenings at home working on the outline of the book that Tina is convinced that I can write and make it big on. I am not as faithful in myself as she seems to be, but I work on it none-the-less. If for no other reason than as cover for being able to openly work on the site, dream, and have some limited, but sanctioned, ‘girl’ time.
When I am not working on the book, Tina is showing me more and more makeup tricks. When I am in the apartment, I use heavier eyeliner and heavy black mascara. By the end of the week, I can even put it on without poking my eye out. She also starts showing me how to use eye shadow. I can’t get enough of how it all makes my eyes so…pretty. Of course, I don’t let Tina know that…
And so, Saturday rolls around again. I get home from the clinic and Tina looks up from her books (she is almost done with vet school). She smiles and says, “Hurry up, Sweetie! It is almost time for our appointment!” I look at her in surprise—the question written on my face. She rolls her eyes and says, “The spa? Did you forget it is Saturday…” The look on my face must be comical because she starts laughing as she says, “Well, you said you could get used to it… Emma has booked you a standing appointment along with mine. We need to get over there, though. Rinse those animals off in the shower. Hurry up!”
An hour later, we are in the spa. It is supposed to be less painful this time—just some touch-up waxing and shaping of the brows. Susi says, “It really is too bad we can’t just laser you like we did Tina.” Tina looks up from her magazine and says, “Well, why can’t you? I kind of like him smooth…” She blushes and Susi just looks at me. Laser removal? OMG, YES! I shrug and say, “I mean, if Tina likes it… I guess I am sort of neutral on it…” I am SO going to whatever Hell there is for lying like this… Don’t let up, though, either of you. PLEASE! Tina just smiles and says, “OK, it is settled then. Smooth as a Barbie Doll, Suze!” And they giggle at her little joke. Serious! STAY SERIOUS, GIRL! Don’t give yourself away! I just smile…and fake a groan…
Quite some time later, Susi has finished lasering my entire body. She looks at me and asks, “So, what about your face? I have heard that some men are having it done to save on shaving. If you are sure you will never want to grow a beard…it would be better than the cream you have been using…” This time Tina looks a little unsure. How do I play this? Very carefully is how… I look at Tina and say, “Well—you hate beards, so it is very unlikely that I will ever want to grow one…aside from the fact that my beard is really sparse anyway… Not having to shave sounds kind of nice…” Tina looks thoughtful… She gives me a strange look that quickly disappears as she says with a shrug, “It is up to you, Sweetie. I mean it is your face. I did not ask you when I had mine done…” YES! YES! YES! I say as non-committal as I can to Susi, “Sure, why not then…”
After finishing my face, Susi takes me to the nail station where she starts working on my hands. She scowls when she sees my nails. She says, “I can tell you have been using lotion on your hands, Barb. They are much softer…although still chapped. What happened to your nails? The clear polish is gone…and they are a mess again…all split and brittle.” I shrug and say, “Tina had to take off the polish after my first day back at work…the polish was all peeling off…” Tina speaks up from her station, “It is all of the hand washing and the sanitizers at the clinic, Suze. I had the same problem, remember?” Susi nods and says, “Yes…I guess I didn’t think about you working at a clinic in the same chemicals… We have two options, acrylic nails…or gel polish. At this point, I am not sure that gel polish will get it…they are in such bad shape… Acrylics would protect them until they grow out healthy…then with proper care, your natural nails should be fine…” Tina says, from over at her station again, “I agree, Suze. That was all that could save mine…”
Thirty minutes later, I am sporting acrylic nails, cut as long as possible to still fit within ‘male’ parameters, but still much longer than most guys would wear them. This is so freakin’ awesome! And the beauty is they are coming up with the excuses FOR me! Susi is finishing up shaping them and then says, “OK, Barb, I am going to put a coat of pale pink gel on them. You won’t really be able to see it, since it is a neutral pink—but it will protect the acrylics. I don’t think they would yellow—they are not supposed to; but, better safe than sorry!” She applies two coats of the pale pink and sets each with a UV light, then applies a shiny top coat and sets that. I look at them as she starts working on my feet. Wow! Look at these babies! I think I am going to cry! No! Don’t do that you silly goose! STOP! I struggle to get myself under control and focus on enjoying the foot rub.
When I look at my toenails a little later, they are painted a hot pink—Gel, like on my fingernails… Susi says, “No one will see your toes, unless you are barefoot—or wearing open-toed shoes… I thought it would help you think ‘girlie’!” She giggles and says, “The gel should easily last until next week; it usually holds up for at least two weeks.” It is really hard to stop the tears this time… It must show that I am fighting it…and they all misinterpret it. Tina comes over and hugs me… I notice her long, oval, French manicured nails as she wraps her arms around me and wish they could be mine. I look down at her peacock blue toenails with the cute designs on them and stifle a small sob. Tina says, “Barb…Ray… Susi can take it off if it is that big a deal… She is right, though. No one will see it but me…and you… You have made a lot of progress in your writing just since last week… This should help you up it another notch… It is so…girly… Isn’t that what you want to experience?” YES! And so much more! I really want more! How am I ever going to go back? I simply say, “Yes. Yes, you are right. It is fine… I was just a bit…surprised…”
The next few weeks are basic repeats of the first. Of course, I catch heck at work for my nails… I just laugh it off and say that it is my ‘prescription’ for bad nails… Like last time, it does not take long for the ribbing to die down.
At home, Tina has me try on skirts and dresses while I am writing. They feel so heavenly that I don’t want to go to bed, except the nighties feel as good… It is all making me so happy that I am starting to get depressed, knowing that it will eventually come to an end. It is a strange roller-coaster of emotions—and Tina seems to be noticing it more. I have to get a grip on myself. I still have over half the book to write… Then it needs to be edited and proof-read… I can stretch this out several more weeks at least…
To help compensate for the dread, I allow myself a little more makeup every day. I start with not only applying the clear mascara for work, but curling the lashes as well. I gradually make the eyeliner thicker… I start using a light coating of black mascara. I use some neutral eye shadow. I color in my brows and make them nicely pointed tapers… I do it gradually enough that those that see me every day don’t really notice—or, at least don’t say anything…
And so all is going fairly well—that is until about the middle of the fifth week. Tina comes in from class with a surprise… I had just gotten in a few minutes before and changed into a skirt and blouse—then put on full makeup and styled my hair in ‘girl’ mode. I am sitting at my computer, largely procrastinating writing anything substantial; she comes over and gives me a hug and kiss. She hands me a bag from Victoria’s Secret. I raise a perfectly made up brow and she shrugs and says, “Having to share my lingerie is getting old…I am having to wash it way too much. These are yours until you are done… Since they are my size, too, I can simply use them myself after that.”
I smile and look at the sexy panty and bra sets in the bag. My OWN lingerie! OMG! Don’t cry! DON’T CRY!!! I say in a near whisper, not trusting my voice not to crack, “That sounds like a good plan.” She smiles and asks, “Speaking of when you are done… How is it coming? Still having a block?” I nod and say, “Yeah… I don’t know…this has all been really helpful… But; I seem to be at a standstill…” I don’t know how long I can keep up this story…at some point she is going to get wise—or tell me to just give it all up…
She kisses me and heads towards the bedroom to change out of her scrubs. On her way out she drops a bombshell, “I am sure you will get over the hump! I invited Frankie over tonight. We haven’t seen her since you started this and I thought maybe she could give you some insights.” I drop my computer on the floor and rush behind her almost unable to speak, “You did what? With me looking like this? When is she supposed to be here? Quick! Help me get changed!” And the doorbell rings. Tina giggles and says, “Go get that, Hon. It will be Frankie! Go on—you don’t want me to get the door naked, do you?”
I am deathly pale as I walk to the door, zombie-like, to open it up for my oldest friend on Earth. It would be hard to tell how pale I am under the foundation, but, trust me…I am. I take a deep, shaky breath and open the door. Frankie is standing there…so self-confident and as petite and beautiful as ever. Gods! I HATE her! She takes a look at me and does a double-take. She says, “Ray? Is that you? Tina said you needed to talk… But…I wasn’t expecting… Err…may I come in?”
Tina comes up behind me and reaches to open the door all the way. She gives Frankie a big hug and brings her to sit down at the table. I follow…still shocked that Frankie is seeing me like this. She is so beautiful! SO confident! Such a girl! And I… I am such a…a…a… My reverie is broken as Tina offers the obviously curious and confused Frankie a cup of tea and says, “Thanks for coming over, Frankie. I think we need your help… So, Ray tells me that you ‘introduced’ him to a certain website that specializes in a certain genre of stories…that there was a need for good authors…?” Frankie, obviously still confused takes a sip of the tea as she nods, then says, “Well, I mentioned that a few months back, I think. I can’t even remember how it came up… Anyway, what is this about? What does that have to do with Ray presenting as a very beautiful woman?”
She thinks I am beautiful? How can that be? I…this is so confusing….
The two just keep talking as if I am not here. Tina says, “Ray has been submitting stories since then…” Frankie looks at me and nods. She says, “Barbie… I knew that was your writing… I read too much of your stuff in school… It is just your style… Why didn’t you…?” She stops herself and redirects her question to Tina, “OK, I guess you did not know…and have a problem with the genre?” Tina shakes her head and says, “Yes…and no! Yes, I did not know about it…and no, I do not have a problem with the genre, per se… Maybe the slutty porn stuff… Anyway, this is not about me… Ray has real talent…” Frankie nods and says, “Yes, Barbie’s stories are very well received on the site. I still don’t understand…” Tina explains the whole situation while I sit there just staring at Frankie. She thinks I am beautiful…?
I continue to just sit there and shrink more and more into my seat as Tina relates the story. When she gets to the part about me writing my sample tale, Tina just hands it to Frankie… It only takes her a few minutes to read through the chapter. She wipes her eyes and says, “Damn you! You are going to ruin my mascara.” She gives me steady look right in my eyes, the ones that are perfectly made up and have nearly sunk beneath the table…cringing… Then she asks me the question. I was not really expecting it—but had been dreading it. She simply asks with conviction, “How long have you known?”
That simple question, from the friend that has been by side since, well…forever, was enough to break me. I sob and rush into the bathroom, locking myself in. She thinks I am beautiful. I can’t give this up… It is so unfair… I can’t… After a while, time seems to have lost its meaning at the moment, I am pretty much cried out. I get up off of the toilet lid where I had been sitting and open my medicine cabinet. I pull out the bottle that I had been keeping in there for so many years… I start to open it…
I barely hear Tina and Frankie knocking on the door, calling out for me to open it. In a daze, I just stare at the white pills in the bottle. I don’t even hear them unlock the door with the coat hanger. I just feel the two pair of strong arms take hold of me. Tina locking me in a hug and Frankie gently but firmly taking the bottle. I hear Frankie gasp, “I can’t believe you still have these…”
Tina sits there; watching me, quietly. She gets up and pours me a cup of the hot tea she had just finished making. She sets it in front of me and Frankie intensely observes me. Tina looks at me, the hurt and confusion clearly visible in her eyes, and slowly speaks in a very low voice—almost a whisper, “I don’t understand much of this at this point, but I would like to… Ray, please talk to me.”
I just sit there and stir my tea. I keep my eyes on the cup as the orange-colored liquid spins around in the cup—making a small inverted tornado. If only it would swallow me up! After it is clear that the little vortex is not going to save me, I take a sip of the tea and timidly look up at Tina. She is just sitting there, quietly looking at me and just waiting. I sigh and say in a barely audible voice, “I have known that I am a girl since I was eight… Since before I met Frankie… I think that is one of the things that drew me to her in the beginning…” Frankie gasps—but stays otherwise quiet. Tina asks, “And why have you not told anyone…Frankie, me, anyone…?”
I shrug, defeated, and say, “I don’t know that I can really answer that question, Tina. I mean…I have always been afraid of hurting people if I told them—or myself by getting laughed at, ostracized, or having to endure any number of other inappropriate reactions. But mostly—I just did not want to hurt…or disappoint my friends and family… It is hard to explain.” She closes her eyes in some sort of internal pain. She asks, “And the pills…”
Frankie pales and I just shake my head and say in a whisper, “I am basically a coward, I guess. I saw what Frankie went through so bravely… Well, for the most part. Her family throwing her out… Losing all of her other friends… There was that one time…and yes, I still have that bottle of sleeping pills that I took from her that night…” Tina gasps this time and looks at Frankie wide-eyed. She asks, “Frankie! You were going to kill yourself?” Frankie nods and says, “Yes, that was a long time ago. If it had not been for Ray back then, I would not be here.” Tina looks at me; visibly shaken. She asks in an unsteady voice, “And you were considering using them just now? Why?”
I hang my head and say, "I really don't know what I was planning, to be honest. I can’t say for sure that I would not have taken them.” I look at Frankie, “You said I was a beautiful woman… I can’t take it anymore. These past weeks have been the best in my life… The more I have enjoyed it, the more it has been a nightmare, though… Dreading that it is going to come to an end… Like some fairy tale without the happy ending.” I take a shaky breath and start sobbing, “I don’t want it to come to an end… But, I don’t want to lose you, Tina!”
Tina lets out a sob herself and I feel her wrap her arms around me. She says, “You are a beautiful woman, Sweetie. One that I would be proud to spend the rest of my life with.” That stops my sobbing cold. I look at her, shocked; black streaks of mascara streaming down my face. I ask her timidly, “You…you…you would? But, why? I mean…this will ruin my life. I won’t ruin yours, too. What about your parents; your friends?” She laughs and says, “Silly goose! My parents—or anyone else I know for that matter—won’t care anymore than they did when I had my lesbian relationship in high school. I am—and always have been—bi-sexual. My friends know that; my family knows that…I am surprised you had not figured that out by now. It has never been a secret at all…”
Frankie smiles at Tina and nods that she knew. I am stunned. Frankie looks back at me and says, “Ray? Let us help you through this. We are here for you.” Tina nods, looks at Frankie and asks, “What do you suggest? You are the closest thing to an expert that I know of in this.” Frankie shrugs and says, “I am not a shrink. The one I have is really good, though. I will call her tomorrow to make an appointment for Ray… Or is it Barbie?” I shrug, sort of slap-happy in shock, and say in small attempt at humor, “I don’t know… I have fantasized a lot in my life. I never really let myself settle on a name, though, until I started writing… And, I mean—who doesn’t want to look like Barbie?” They both giggle, although I suspect it is forced, and Frankie says, “OK, Barbie it is.”
Tina gets up to make us all some supper and Frankie asks, “So, have you ever taken any online gender tests?” I nod my head and say, yeah a few weeks ago… I saw a link on the website for something called the COALAMUNDI or something…” Frankie giggles and Tina just looks over from the kitchen, lost. Frankie says, “The COGIATI. What was your score?” I shrug and say, “580-something. It really didn’t tell me anything that I did not know, though.” Frankie whistles softly and Tina looks at her. Frankie says, “Well, you have to be careful taking tests like that online, but I don’t think that Ray…Barbie…would have intentionally influenced it. It is pretty easy to manipulate it, if you are so inclined. That is why a real shrink is so important. Anyway, a score that high means that there is NO doubt that Barbie is a fully transgendered woman. My score was barely over 300 and I thought I had issues. I am surprised that you have stayed sane!”
I sit there the next morning, in girlier jeans and overall outfit than I have ever worn in public… I am lightly made up, but it is without a doubt feminine. My hair is in ‘girl mode’. I am nervous--REALLY nervous. Not just because I am in openly girly mode out in public, but because I am openly in girly mode in the waiting room of Frankie’s shrink. She was able to get me a really quick appointment once she ‘mentioned’ that she had taken the pills away from me…
A nurse comes out a side door and says, “Barbara Boudain?” I take a shaky breath and get up. She introduces herself as Cindy and asks Tina to stay in the waiting room for a bit. She takes me back and takes my blood pressure and temperature. Then she puts me in a cozy conference room. She says, “Dr. Richards will be right with you, Barbie. You do prefer Barbie, right” I just nod, still in a daze that this is really happening. A few minutes later, a very pretty blonde comes in and introduces herself, “Hello, you must be Barbie. I am Gina Richards. Please call me Gina.” Self-conscious, I say, “I am pleased to meet you, Gina.” She smiles and settles in at the table and opens a note pad. She says, “There is nothing to be nervous about, Barbie. I promise…”
Then, she asks me to tell my story…and I do, completely unfettered, for the first time I bare my soul to a complete stranger. It is so freeing…it is like a house is lifted off of my body. Gina takes lots of notes and asks questions at times. When I am done, she says, “Well, I am glad that you have finally opened up on this. I have to ask… You are not still contemplating any kind of suicide, right?” I shake my head and say, “No. I am not certain that is what I was doing last night, either. But…it was…an option, I guess. At any rate…” I look her firmly in the eye and finish, “No, I am not.” She seems satisfied with that answer.
She makes a few more notes, then she says, “Frankie tells me you took the online version of the COGIATI and scored over 580? I would like to give you some different tests if that is OK? While you are filling those out, I would also like to speak with your wife. Is that OK?” I nod my head and she buzzes for Cindy to take me to another room where I answer several hundred questions on a computer.
When I am done, Cindy brings me back to the conference room where Gina and Tina are waiting. Gina is looking at a printout. After I sit, she says, “Well, Barbie. If I did before, I have no doubt now that you were being honest on the COGIATI. Your results from today are consistent with the score you say you received…and there is no way to trick all of these tests, whether consciously or not.”
She puts down the printout and looks at me intensely, “So, where would you like to go from here? I can give you a letter confirming that you are officially transgendered and can set you up an appointment with Dr. Vernon—she is the endocrinologist here in the building. She is the one that Frankie uses. If you want to follow through with this, which is the best course I can see, then the next logical step is hormones and going full-time as a woman to satisfy your year. Then you can contemplate SRS, if you wish. Would you like me to see if Dr. Vernon has an opening?”
YES! YES! YES! I look at Tina, still unsure about her reaction. She just squeezes my hand and says, “It is your decision, Barbs, but I don’t think there really is a choice…” I close my eyes…fully at peace with myself for the first time that I can remember and whisper, “Yes, Gina. I would love it if you could get me in ASAP.”
Gina smiles and goes over to a phone. She pushes a button and speaks for a few minutes. She puts her hand over the receiver and looks over at me. She asks, “Would ten minutes from now be soon enough? They just had a cancelation.” I come close to fainting. Tina looks at me, smiles and says, “That sounds wonderful, Gina.”
Twenty minutes later, Robbi, Dr. Vernon’s nurse, is pulling a ton of blood from my arm. She smiles as she packs up her things and says as she is leaving, “The doctor will be with you in just a moment. I am going to go run your labs.” I sit there, tightly squeezing Tina’s hand—not knowing whether to be impatient for the doctor to get in here, or to run and throw my guts up in the bathroom from nervousness.
A quick single knock on the door and a kind-looking older woman comes in. She smiles at the object fear on my face and says, “Hi. I am Vicki Vernon. From the look on your face, which is not uncommon—that mix of anticipation and fear—I assume you are Barbie? So, that means you must be Tina?” She looks at both of us in the correct order and Tina smiles brightly at her. I wanly smile and say, “Yes, doctor. You are correct on all counts.” She just says, “Call me Vicki, please. We are going to be seeing a fair amount of one another for a while. Frankie speaks very highly of you. She stopped by this morning and said that you would likely be visiting…”
She studies her computer screen in quiet for a bit, then she says, “Robbi is still running your labs. We do them in-house which saves a lot of time, but it still takes a bit. So, let’s talk about options here. Gina told me that you are committed to hormones. Is that true?” I simply nod. She continues, “OK. So, we will have to give you both a blocker, to stop your male hormones, and then, of course, the estrogen. I am going to start out with short-term injections to get you regulated, then we can discuss long-term implants later…”
She makes some notes in the charts on her computer. She says, “According to Gina, you are officially starting your year. Is that right?” Again, I nod. She makes a note and smiles. Then she says, “Understand that I am not a surgeon and won’t have anything directly to do with SRS, if you decide to go that route. At some point, it will be best to at least contemplate removing your testicles, though—there is a danger of cancer, otherwise.” I simply nod. And the sooner they are gone, the better! She continues, “Anyway, if you choose the SRS option, then I am afraid that you are going to have to lose about fifty pounds, or so. The hormones that I will be giving you will make that even tougher. I don’t tell you this to discourage you—but, I don’t want it to be a surprise.”
My eyes open wide. FIFTY POUNDS! OMG! But then I settle down as I think about it and say, “Well, eating has been one of my coping mechanisms. I hope that will not be necessary any more…” Tina hugs me and says, “Well, and I have gained quite a bit since I got into vet school. Hitting the gym and eating better will be good for both of us. It won’t be a problem, Vicki.” She looks at me and says, “I promise!” I sigh and hug her.
There is a slight ding on her computer and Vicki takes a look. She says, “Your labs are in and look fine. Are you ready for your first shots?” I almost faint again. It is HAPPENING! It REALLY is! I just nod and say, “You don’t know how ready I am, Vicki. Please! Before you change your mind—or I wake up from this wonderful dream!” Vicki just laughs softly and says, “Well, the pain from the shot will wake you up if that is what it is…the estrogen depot stings a bit…”
Tina and I walk to the elevators hand in hand. I am rubbing my sore butt as we walk. She wasn’t kidding when she said it stings…it is a bit more than a bit, though. I giggle at the thoughts in my head and Tina’s head swivels around to look at me. She is smiling and asks, “Was that a giggle I just heard?” She hugs me tightly and the elevator door dings. Frankie steps out in her pink scrubs. She hurries over to us and says, “Oh, good. I was afraid I would miss you! Tina, I know you have to get to class… GO! You have missed enough this morning already. Barbie, I know this happened really quickly today, but, since you are already off sick for the day, there are a lot of things that you need to take care of ASAP. I arranged to have the rest of the day off—there weren’t any surgeries scheduled for me to assist in anyway…” I smile at the pink scrubs, picturing Frank of long ago in them. Frankie is so much happier as the prim and proper surgical nurse for the city’s premier cosmetic surgeon—who also happens to specialize in transgender surgeries.
I kiss Tina passionately and she giggles as she gets on the elevator without us. I hear her saying, just as the door closes, “Hold onto that thought until tonight….!” Frankie smiles at me and gives me another hug. She asks, “All went well?” I nod and show her my papers from Gina…and rub my butt again. I say, “Yes… I am official—but I don’t think I will be able to sit for a week!” Frankie giggles as we get on the elevator ourselves to go up and grab her things.
After Frankie changes into her street clothes and grabs her purse, we are walking back to the elevator. I am nervously holding onto my papers…my new life. She shakes her head and says, “A purse! How could we forget to give you a purse? Here; give me those.” And she shoves them into her purse. So…our first stop is the mall to get me…a purse.
After we eat a quick lunch at the mall, Frankie drives us to the court house. She walks me through all of the steps of formally requesting a name change—to ‘Barbara Kensington Boudain’. At the same time, I request that my birth certificate be amended with my real gender—female. After filling out all of the paperwork on a public computer, making copies of my paperwork, paying the fees, and submitting it all, I feel even better about myself. I even pay the extra ‘expedition’ fee. It is outrageous, but…it gets me my official papers within days instead of weeks—and will allow me to get my other documents fixed.
From there, Frankie surprises me when we pull into my vet clinic’s parking lot. She just looks at me and says, “You have to let them know…” I pale, but know she is right. I go in and meet with the office manager and the medical director of the clinic. To my surprise, their only comments are, “It is about time,” and “Welcome to the better gender…and sex, too, Hon!” They giggle and that is it… They knew? But… Brit, the office manager tells me as I am walking out the door that my new name tag will be in when I come in to work tomorrow…and reminds me to get the name on my vet tech license changed, as well…
On the way home, Frankie stops at a store that I am not at all familiar with. She just smiles as we get out of the car and says, “Tina told me about your homemade gaffs. Those work for a while, sure, but there are much better options. And you need better breast forms, as well. This is the place for all of that.” And so, an hour later, we get back in the car. I am carrying a bag with Tina’s old breast forms and several new gaffs. I am wearing my new, bigger, glued-on forms (after some adjustments to my bra) and one of the purchased gaffs. I now look like I have the correct size ‘boobs’ for my body-size and marvel at how much heavier they are!
Frankie then drops me off at the apartment complex and drives off—she has a date with her boyfriend that she can’t be late for. I take the elevator up to our floor and walk down the hall to our door. The hallway is empty, but I still feel a little self-conscious. It is going to be hard to explain myself to the neighbors… Not that we really know any of them… I slip the key into the lock and hurry through the door.
It is still a couple of hours before Tina is due home from class—so I open up my computer and navigate to the Word document that contains the beginnings of my story. I read through some of it…and move it to an ‘archive’ file of rejected ideas. I say out loud to myself, “This is the work of Ray…it is not bad…but it is not my work…” I turn on the stereo and hook my computer up through Bluetooth. I open up Pandora and start my ‘Enya’ feed… I close my eyes and start going through options…
And it hits me… I will take my lessons learned as Ray, my joy as Barbie, and Tina’s love of fantasy…and meld them into a story… I start sketching out ideas and almost don’t hear Tina come in… I get up and give her a huge hug and a passionate kiss…after I figure out how to navigate my boobs being in the way of hers. She giggles…and takes it from there. Once we have properly kissed, she checks out my new ‘equipment’ and says, “Nice! I can’t wait until you have real ones!” I giggle and we go into the kitchen area where I help her make supper…a healthy one… One that will help us lose weight… One that will leave me hungry, but OH so worth it.
As we are eating the delicious salad…, Yes! And it is FILLING, too. I just need to keep telling myself that! …I look at Tina and say, “I scrapped my book.” Tina drops her fork with a loud clank and gives me a shocked look. I quickly grab her hand and say, “That came out wrong. I am not stopping writing…I am just not writing that book. It is not ME anymore… Does that make sense…?” Tina picks up her fork and says, “Yes…I think so… So…?” I start running some of my new ideas by her and she gets more and more excited…giving me additional ‘fantasy’ ideas and details—something she is the expert at (at least when it comes to fantasy worlds).
We clean up the kitchen and I take up my computer again…anxious to get started on the new ideas. I get in a zone and furiously write several rough chapters…until Tina says, “Barbs, it is late…and…well…we have some business to attend to in bed.” She comes over and gives me a more passionate kiss than she ever has. When she breaks it, I look at her and say breathlessly, “OK, I guess you are OK with this… I am still in shock, honestly, that you are…” She gives me a serious look and says, “I am not only OK with it; I love you all the more for it. Not that I came into this relationship wanting a wife… But I did come into this relationship wanting you to be happy. I was worried, Barbs…”
I shake my head and say, “And that is why I love you so much… Just for the record, though… How far do you think…?” She kisses me again and whispers, “ALL the way!” And leads me to the bedroom.
Over the next few months, a lot happens. It is hard to capture it all, so forgive me if I miss something. Basically, it boils down to this:
Frankie surprises us all—she met her guy, gets engaged and married—all within six months… Beating Tina’s and my short engagement by three whole days. Tina is a bridesmaid…and I am the Maid of Honor! *SHRIEK*
Tina somehow gets pregnant in the last dying throws of my sperm… Not what we had planned in her last year of vet school—but we are ecstatic!
Not long after Tina gets pregnant, I develop a reaction to the hormone blockers…and…well, let’s just say that a little piece of surgery will ensure that cannot ever happen anymore…
I start growing boobs! *SHRIEK*
I am doing really well on my diet…I am already down to a size eight—my goal is a four.
I also finish the first draft of my book… I am quite proud of it; even if it still needs a lot of polishing…
I hand the draft to Tina—she had not been allowed to read it to date. She looks at me and smiles. She is in her third trimester and showing quite plainly now… I love her SO much! She takes the printout and sits in her favorite rocker with a cup of tea and starts reading—she is a very fast reader, so I know it won’t take her long. A little less than two hours later, she looks up and wipes the tears from her face. She says, “Barbs, it is beautiful! If this is just a rough draft, as you say, I can’t imagine how a finished one would look—it is perfect!”
I give her a passionate kiss and get to work on cleaning up the issues that I still have on my ‘list’. A week later, I give it to Frankie’s husband, Beau, who is an English major, to proof. Two weeks after that… Well, I start working with Amazon on publishing it…
A highly pregnant Tina, Frankie, Beau, and I are sitting in my favorite restaurant. It is my birthday, I turn twenty-one today… Frankie and I are drinking an appropriate Frou-Frou drink. Beau is having a manly beer. Poor Tina is having a virgin Pina Colada. We are not only celebrating my birthday, but that my book is available on Amazon as an e-Book. Not only has it been available for about a month now, but it is has already sold over 100,000 copies—and that number is increasing daily. Amazon tells me I am on track to be on their bestseller list in a couple of weeks, if the trend holds! *SHRIEK*
I am sitting in the hospital…in a private maternity suite… Tina is in the bed exhausted. I am holding our sweet newborn daughter. I rushed over as soon as I got word that Tina was here. Next week is her graduation, so the timing is perfect—her classwork is done… Now we won’t have to sweat her going into labor during graduation. Our parents are on their way…
I had been on the phone with Shauna Rousseau, my publisher contact at Amazon, when I got word that Tina was on her way here from class. Shauna was telling me that I just exceeded selling a million copies of my e-Book. They want to do hardcopies… Shauna has even suggested posting a condensed ‘teaser’ version of the book on the website that started it all for me… She has said she will do that for me… So, if you have not read the book yet…look for the teaser version in the near future on that site…
Me? I exceeded my weight goal I am nearly a size two) and am scheduled for SRS in three weeks. Then, I will be busy living my life with my wife and daughter and loving it like never before. As a matter of fact, I still have to pinch myself every day to make sure it is not a dream…
*OUCH*
NOTE: This really HAS given me an idea for a new fantasy series that I will post as soon as I can find time to write it! (NOT on Amazon, of course…) :D