G.L. Hudson

Synopsis: Karen Marlowe discovers that her co-worker Jason is a transvestite. Karen uses this information to take control of Jason’s life. In private, Karen helps transform Jason into the beautiful and confident Jasmine that she has always wanted to be. But in public, Karen forces Jason to make some difficult, life-style altering decisions as she slowly starts feminizing Jason’s clothing and hair styles.

Jasmine Cally Vail — The Awakening

by G. L. Hudson

The author would like to acknowledge and thank Riottgrrl for proofreading and helping to prepare this manuscript.

ADMIN NOTE: This story was lost under the new author lists somehow and the author was never added to the author list making this very good story "lost." With some slight touching up I have reposted this story for another viewing and attached it to the proper author in the author list. It was originally published on Big Closet Classic on 2005-05-05 08:13:23 -0700.
Special thanks go out to Stacy for bringing this to my attention!
Please Enjoy!

Sephrena Lynn Miller

CHAPTER ONE

Today was the day. The first day of our new careers. I steered my BMW into the parking deck, lowered my window and slid my parking pass into the automatic gate controller. The gate rose and I drove beneath it to my new parking space. The sign in front of the space had the name Karen Marlowe stenciled on it. I smiled. I put the car in park and looked over at Jasmine.

"We’re here. Ready for our first day, Jasmine?"

"I am at your beck and call, Ms. Marlowe," she answered. Her smile was as large as mine.

"Ok then, let’s have at it."

I stepped out of the car and reached behind the front seat to pull out my attaché and purse. Jasmine stepped out, smoothed the front of her skirt and slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. We walked across the parking deck to the elevators, our heels clicking on the hard concrete, and when we reached the elevators I pushed the button. Upon its arrival, we stepped in and I pushed the button for the seventh floor. I smiled to myself — the seventh floor was where this all started - although it was a different building in a different city. The bell chimed and the doors opened. I led Jasmine down the carpeted hallway to our office.

The door had a simple title in a simple font written across the center. Karen Marlowe Attorney at Law. I slipped the key in the door and opened it for our first day in business. The cool air from the air conditioning unit greeted us. I began walking towards my small office in the rear, "Jasmine, can you get the coffee started, please?" I never looked around to see if Jasmine had heard. She responded with a short, "Yes Ma’am," as I continued towards my office.

I was psyched. This was what I had always wanted, my own small law firm. Maybe someday I would take on a partner. Maybe even two. But today it was just the two of us. I was the lawyer and Jasmine, my lover and best friend, was my secretary and paralegal. I sat behind my desk and opened my lower right-hand desk drawer. I dropped my purse inside and slid the drawer closed. It made a quiet, but solid thud as it came to a stop. The sound of quality. I had insisted that we buy quality office equipment. I had told Jasmine that first appearances would be very important. When potential clients walked in that door, the surroundings and the people, Jasmine and I, had to exude professionalism and confidence. I looked around the office and was satisfied. We had decorated tastefully, everything looked professional and had an aura of quality and money to it.

I turned on my computer and while waiting for it to boot up, I glanced out the window into the deep blue sky. It was going to be a beautiful day, not too hot and not too humid. I could see the cars and people passing along in front of our building. The computer beeped and asked for my password. I admired my latest manicure as my fingers flew over the keyboard. Even a manicure was not too small a detail in this highly competitive business world. I had chosen a French manicure, featuring clean white lines across the tips of my nails. And I had insisted on Jasmine using a bright red polish on are her slightly longer nails. Professionally manicured nails featuring a highly feminine red color to draw attention to them would suit Jasmine well as she greeted our new clients.

Jasmine walked in with two steaming mugs of coffee. She placed one on the engraved coaster on my desk, and held the other in both of her hands as she sat down in the chair across from my desk. She crossed her legs and gave her skirt a quick tug to pull it down just over the top of her knee. She waited for me to take a sip of my coffee and they asked, "Is it ok?"

I noticed the marks that my lipstick left on the edge of my mug. I licked my lips and could taste the coffee. "It’s fine sweetie. Or should I say Ms. Vail. We need to remain professional in the office," I reminded her as well as myself.

"Absolutely, Ms. Marlowe." Jasmine smiled. She looked beautiful. Her red hair was full of tight curls and cascaded down around her face. Gold hoop earrings peaked out behind the curls, and swung ever so slightly as she tilted her head. "So what do you think? Are you ready for your first day?"

"I’ve never been so psyched in my life," I answered. "This is going to be grand. I have a great feeling about this. We’re going to love being our own bosses."

Jasmine giggled and tossed her head to chase a curl out of the way. "While we’re here you are the boss, and I am the help. So Ms. Marlowe, what would you like me to do first?"

I picked up my coffee mug and held it in both hands. I leaned back in my leather chair and thought a moment as I again looked at the lipstick mark. I took a sip and then leaned forward to set the mug back on its coaster. "Well, its not exactly like we’re backed up with clients, is it?"

Jasmine’s dimples showed as she smiled. She had the prettiest smile. She gave her head a slow nod in the negative direction.

"Why don’t you start with the telephone company and check on our ad in the yellow pages. I don’t believe the stationary with our letterhead has arrived, give them a call if you would, please. Check with the building super and ask if he needs anything else from us as far as transferring utilities into our name. Go over our move-in list and make sure everything is handled," I told her.

"Will that be all, Ms. Marlowe?" she asked dutifully.

"That will be all, Ms. Vail." Jasmine stood and walked out of my office. As she walked out, I watched her hips sway ever so slightly beneath the clinging silk skirt that she was wearing. Her stockings had a seam down the back and I noticed that they were perfectly straight. Her ivory blouse was a perfect match for her patterned skirt. She looked beautiful and professional.

I swiveled my chair around and faced my computer. No email. I looked out the window again and admired the view. My mind began to wander. Here I was in my own office in my own law firm. Even if it was only Jasmine and me, it was still a law firm in my mind. She had looked so pretty as she walked out that door. It was amazing how far she had come. It was amazing how far we had both come. It seemed like only yesterday that we had first met …

I had been out of law school for three months. The job market stunk, and I had received no positive leads on any of the numerous resumés that I had sent out. I was still living with my college roommate Gloria, and I really wanted to move into my own apartment. I had just broke up with my boyfriend of 6 months and I was rather depressed about everything. I was using my spare time to study for my board exams, but it just didn’t fill up all the spare time that I had.

I was starting to go out at nights with Gloria just to have something to do. I had been living with Gloria for two years. She had advertised for a female roommate and as most college students, I was short on money and needed a roommate to share expenses. I called her number and she invited me over. She gave me a quick tour, set forth her rules and expectations and everything sounded ok. Then she explained that she was a lesbian. Not that it was a big deal, and not that she was looking for roommate for sexual games, but she wanted me to know up front. She would be occasionally bringing home friends and she didn’t want any complaints about it from her roommate. If it was going to be a problem, she wanted to nip it in the bud. It was fine by me and I moved in two days later.

Gloria pretty much went her way and I pretty much went my way. We got along quite well, and never had any problems that lasted more than 24 hours. Gloria had chosen her apartment because it was in the gay area of town. There were several gay bars in the area, and her favorite was across the street. During my college days, I had occasionally joined her on a Saturday evening across the street at Glitter. Glitter catered to both male and female patrons. They ran a decent grill and served a good BLT sandwich until 8:00 P.M. each night. After 8:00, the bar usually began to fill up. The guys pretty much stayed to one side of the bar, and the girls on the other. There were occasional flare-ups, but they never led to much trouble. In the back was a large dance floor and a small stage. Once a week they used the stage for karaoke, three times a week they had a disc jockey, Monday nights they had football and Saturday nights, they had a late drag show after the disc jockey finished.

It was a pleasant bar during the week and a high energy bar on weekends. I was one of the few people who felt comfortable on both sides of the bar. The regular girls soon learned my preferences and were polite and left me alone. The guys had little interest in me except for the cross-dressers. They liked to talk with me for some reason. I was polite, but had no interest in them. Especially the ugly ones. The sight of them drove me crazy. But I have to admit, there was one guy who was really cute. He looked and acted so much like a girl that newcomers had no idea that he wasn’t a girl. I didn’t mind talking with her. She called herself Tara.

As much as I liked the bar, I was starting to spend too much time there. I really needed a job, a new apartment, new clothes and a love life. As I said, I was beginning to get a bit depressed.

But luck finally turned in my direction. I was called for an interview. It was with a large multi-national corporation. I spent the day in half a dozen interviews and I thought I held my own. I received a polite thank you at the end of the day and was warned that it would be a couple of weeks before they would get back to me. Corporate law wasn’t the reason that I had entered law school, and it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but then I was in no position to be picky. I really wanted a job that paid money.

They called me back about two weeks later and I went through another round of interviews. They said they were interested in me, but again they would need another couple of weeks to finish other interviews, review everyone’s opinions, run the flag up the flag pole, check with the local astrologer and run background checks. No wonder I never liked corporate law or corporations. But I really wanted the job. I needed the job.

I must have passed the background check because an offer was extended. I took it immediately. It didn’t pay enough, the perks were weak, the potential boss looked like a crook and there were no other female attorneys. It was rather obvious that they had a quota to fill, and I was it. But I took the job. It was contingent on me passing my boards, but that was always understood.

So I started on a Monday. I arrived 30 minutes early and it took twenty minutes to find a parking space. I marched into the Human Resources office and announced my presence.

"Welcome, Ms. Marlowe. My name is Megan and I work for the HR director, Mr. Kleber. Would you like a cup of coffee?" Megan was very perky and friendly. I wasn’t sure if she were trustworthy or not, but I didn’t think she would poison my coffee on the very first day. I accepted her offer. She brought me the coffee then said, "Would you follow me this way? We have a ton of paperwork to fill out before we can get you to your new job."

She led me to a small conference room. The room had a table that was too large. I wondered how they even got it in the door. We had to squeeze against the wall to get around the table to a couple of chairs. The table was stacked with papers. "Don’t worry," said Megan. "You won’t have to fill out all of these forms, just the majority of them." She tried to laugh but only a pathetic snort came out. I took a seat and set down my styrofoam cup.

"Bring ‘em on," I said. And she did. I had to fill out another employment form, insurance forms for teeth, for eyes, for general health, for prescriptions, for chiropractors and medical secrecy, confidentiality, CIA and loyalty oaths to the health industry. But I couldn’t complain too much. Even though everyone in the world would know all about me, at lease I would have health coverage. There were a lot of people out there who had nothing.

"This is a form for United Way," Megan announced as she slid it under my pen.

"This form is already filled out," I complained.

"I know, were just trying to save you a little time," she said in the least sincere voice I had ever heard. The box for maximum contribution had already been checked. I hadn’t even started work and they were already taking back my meager salary. But what could I do? I bit my lower lip and signed.

I filled out some confidentiality forms, and a patent release form. ‘What in the world was I going to patent?’ I asked myself. They even had me sign a morality agreement. If I did or said anything that reflected negatively on the company, I would be fired. I signed for a parking place in the garage. If I ran over any pedestrians, or stored an old 1976 pick-up on blocks in my parking space, I would be fined. I was amazed at how many forms a corporation could think up.

"That’s all of the forms," Megan finally announced. "Now here is your employee handbook. Oops, I forgot. Here, you have to sign this form that says you received your handbook." My eyes rolled into the back of my head and looked for some light at the end of this tunnel. It was still dark. "Oh, and that reminds me, you also have to sign for your employee safety manual." Megan smiled as if she really enjoyed torturing helpless employees. I had the distinct feeling she also enjoyed pulling the wings off flies.

Finally, it came to an end. I thought I was going to be led to my new office and meet my fellow co-workers. Wrong! "Do you have any questions so far?" she asked me.

A grimace crossed my face and I politely responded, "Not yet."

"Good," she said. "Now we have a couple of tapes to show you. We have to go to another room for that. Follow me," she said cheerfully. I think she was cheerful because she didn’t have to sit through the tapes.

It took 90 minutes to cover the tapes on office rules, safety, building evacuation in case of fire, tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes, terrorists, sabotage, irate employees with guns knives or bombs, bomb scares, biological, chemical or radiological attacks or in the event someone from Jehovah’s Witnesses showed up at the front door wanting to convert the sinners.

I hadn’t been there half a day and they were already grinding me up in their corporate extruder. Megan then took me to the security department on the first floor. I had my picture taken and laminated onto a piece of plastic with both a magnetic strip and an embedded RFID chip. The security officer attached a pretty pink string to it and told me to wear it around my neck when I was in the building. "I’m not sure this pink string will go well with my pearls," I joked. The officer just stared at me. He didn’t know what to say.

"Well that is what they give us to put on the badges. I don’t have anything else," he mumbled.

It was becoming obvious to me that you were not allowed to bring a sense of humor into the building. "Just joking," I said. "This will be fine." He sort of smiled, actually he grimaced, and told Megan that he was finished.

Ten minutes before noon, Megan led me to the law department. It was located on the seventh floor. She slid her security badge in the slot next to the door and quickly pulled it out. The LED switched from red to green and I heard a click. Megan grabbed the handle on the door and pulled it open. We walked over to the first desk we found and Megan introduced me. "Lisa, this is Karen Marlowe, she is our new lawyer. Karen, this is Lisa. Lisa is the executive office manager for the Law Department."

I extended my hand and took Lisa’s hand. "It’s a pleasure to meet you Lisa," I said.

"We’re sure glad to see you, Karen. We thought HR had forgotten about us." It was an obvious dig and it came with a slight perfunctory smile.

Megan understood the comment. "Ok, then. Karen is all yours." She turned on her heels and headed out the door.

"Karen, your new office is over here," and she began leading me towards the back of the room. "We’ll be heading over to the cafeteria and lunch in about 5 minutes. Do you know where it is?"

Lisa was very formal and official in her tone of voice, but I thought I sensed a bit of honesty and maybe even kindness. My first impression of Lisa was a workaholic from 8:00 to 5:00, but a good person outside of work. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last time that I was wrong about someone.

"No, I’m afraid not," I answered.

"Why don’t you drop off your things, and then we can walk over for lunch. I’ll introduce you to a few of the girls, and after lunch I can help you get situated."

"Thanks, that would be wonderful. Can I use the little girls room before we go?"

"Sure." She pointed across the room, "The ladies room is over there. When you finish, come up front to my desk and we’ll head over to lunch."

I walked over to the ladies room and was duly impressed. It was large, clean, well lit and had comfortable chairs for those tough days when you just had to relax for a few minutes. I used the toilet, changed my panty liner, washed my hands and tidied up my make up. I slung my purse over my shoulder and walked out to Lisa’s desk.

Lisa gave me a warm smile and asked, "Ready?" I nodded yes. Two other girls were standing by her desk. "Karen this Jasmine, she is the paralegal for environmental services, and this is Terri, she handles all of the domestic real estate services." Both girls showed their pearly whites and we shook hands. They both seemed very nice at first blush. "Shall we be off, then?"

Lisa led the way out the door with the other two girls following and me bringing up the rear. Once in the main hallway we headed towards the elevators. Jasmine turned to me and asked, "What areas will you be working in?"

"I’m not real sure, yet. I haven’t met with Mr. Pearson." Pearson was the law director. "When I interviewed he said that he needed help with consumer litigation, HR and contracts. So I’m not sure which area I’ll be working with."

Contracts," Jasmine announced. "We’re desperate for help there. If he puts you in litigation I’ll kill the stupid idiot." She didn’t even smile when she said it. I guessed that maybe they really did need help in contracts.

The elevator arrived and we went down to the second floor and walked over to the cafeteria. It seemed to be a typical corporate cafeteria. Lots of plastic and stainless steel, no acoustics and uncleaned tables spread around the room. Lisa again led the way. "Karen, here are the trays and utensils. That carousel over there handles salads, jellos, cottage cheese, fruit and the like. Over here are the specials, and they’re listed on the board up there." She pointed in the general direction of the chalkboard. "Around the side of that carousel is the grill. You can order hamburgers, fries and the like. There is a small freezer over this way, and you can get ice cream and fudgesicles. When you pick up your food you need to go over to the check out counter. You have two choices; either cash or give them your security card and they will charge your meal. You will get a bill twice a month if you decide to charge your meal. And when you’re through, we usually sit at that table over at the window. Ok?"

"Ok." I walked over to the salad carousel and picked up a plain lettuce salad with a few bits of tomato and cucumber on it. I splashed some Italian dressing on it, picked up a small dish of cottage cheese and paid cash. I was the first one through the lines and I guessed as to which table Lisa had been pointing towards. I must have been correct, because the other girls soon joined me.

"Light eater?" Terri asked.

"Not usually, just low on cash right now. I don’t want to start charging anything until I can get my finances in order."

"Money tight?"

"Yeah, that’s part of it. But the other part is I just don’t know where I stand yet. I want to find my own apartment, I need to buy some more work clothes, and I have a load of school loans to pay off. Up until now, since I haven’t been working, I haven’t been paying off the bills. But now that I’m working I have to start making payments."

Terri looked understanding and sympathetic. "If I can be nosy, how much does it cost to go to school these days."

"Well, its not just school, tuition, books and all, but it is the cost of living also. Room, board, transportation, and the lot. Suffice it to stay I have over $30,000 in loans I have to pay off."

"Wow," she said. "That makes things a bit tougher. I’ve wished I could make the salary that you lawyers make, but you certainly come in with some heavy baggage."

I just smiled. Already I was one of "them". I was one of the high paid people. I wished she hadn’t said that. I didn’t have any friends here, and I definitely didn’t consider myself one of "them" high paid people. Jasmine and Lisa quickly joined us.

"So how is the first day going?" Jasmine asked.

"So far I’ve spent a grand total of ten minutes in the law department. I never knew there were so many HR forms to sign."

"Don’t worry," Lisa said. "Most of that HR crap is behind you. They have to be the most worthless group of human beings on the face of this planet. I swear the only requirement for working in HR is that you have to fail at every other job first." Jasmine and Terri added an ‘amen’ and I had to giggle. Lisa noticed my giggling and she added, "I’m not kidding. They’re worthless."

"Where are you from?" Jasmine asked.

"Cincinnati," I answered.

"What brings you here?"

"Law school. I got a little financial help and so here I am. Although I have to say, that financial help was very little. I’d hate to see where I would be without some of that help."

"School loans?" Jasmine asked.

"Big time," Terri answered for me. I also gave an affirmative head shake. "Are you married? Terri changed the subject.

"Nope," I answered as I flashed my bare ring finger.

"Steady?"

I shook my head no.

"Well there you go," and Jasmine gave a head nod towards a man walking down the aisle with his food tray. He was young kid, I thought. He was short, probably no more than 5’5" and very thin. He had a very pretty face, almost feminine.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"New kid," Terri chirped. "Kind of a dual position. He is a paralegal, but also seems to be a whiz with computers. They sent him down to IT for a couple of months and now he’s back in our department."

"What’s he do?"

"He does paralegal for real estate and he handles all of our PC problems," Lisa said. "I’ll introduce you to him this afternoon. He handles all the security, passwords and such, plus equipment and network problems that you might have. I’ll have him show you how everything is networked and how to handle the day to day fun of printers, fax machines and the rest."

"So what do you think?" Jasmine said. "What do you make of him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think he is gay?"

"Gay?"

"Yeah, look at him," Terri said. "He’s a real pretty boy. Never says a word to any of the girls. Looks pretty small and effeminate to me."

"Some of the other girls have their doubts as well," Jasmine added.

I was hoping Lisa, as the office manger, would stop this gossip but she was also waiting for my opinion. "I don’t know," I said. "He looks very young. How old is he?"

"Twenty two," answered Lisa. "He has a high school education and a two year degree at one of the local vocational techs."

"Well that might explain why he doesn’t talk with any of the girls. Everyone is older than him. Plus, you said he just started?" Jasmine nodded. "Well he is probably a bit overwhelmed and unsure of himself. It takes a while to become accustomed to new surroundings. I know I’m still a bit unsure of things."

"But you haven’t been here a full day yet," Terri said. "He’s been here four months. That’s a big difference."

"That’s still not a lot of time."

"So, you haven’t given us your opinion. Do you think he’s gay?" Jasmine was prodding me for an answer.

"I don’t know," I said. "Yeah, he looks like a pretty boy, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’d hate to say something negative about someone that I’ve never met."

"Well, you’ll get to meet him this afternoon," Jasmine pointed out. "Check him out and tell us what you think."

"There you go," added Terri. "Your first assignment is evaluate the new boy and report back to us at lunch tomorrow."

I grimaced. My first day there and the office girls were already trying to pull me into their petty office gossip. I felt sorry for the boy. He hadn’t been there four months and they were already sniping behind his back. I worried what they might do behind my back. I had spent many an hour in a gay bar and I had seen many a gay man. He had the looks for possibly being gay, but I didn’t see it in his mannerisms. As young as he was, I really thought his problem was simply shyness. But being my first day, and not wanting to alienate the girls, I agreed to give them my evaluation the next day.

We finished lunch and took our trays over to the conveyor belt and sent them on their way into the kitchen. We took a leisurely stroll around the foyer overlooking the first floor and did a bit of people watching. Even though it was still lunch, there were lots of people walking in and out of the lobby down below.

"Do you work out?" Jasmine asked.

"Not much," I confessed. "Partly because of the amount of time I spend on school and studies and partly because of money. I can’t afford to join a gym."

"Well if you want, you can join me for aerobics after work. The company has a nice gym on sublevel 1, and Monday, Tuesday and Thursday they have aerobics from 5 to 6. Its free."

"Well ok. Thanks, I’ll think about it."

"Also, a couple of us single girls stop and have a cocktail across the street on Friday nights. We don’t stay long, unless of course we get lucky. It’s an interesting place for single girls."

I smiled, "Thanks. I might take you up on that. It kind of depends on how well I can get settled in."

"I’ll check back on Friday to see if you’re interested. Well, let’s start heading back to the office."

I followed her as we walked up the 5 flights to the seventh floor. Jasmine used her security card to clear us into the law department, and then she led me back to my office. "There you go. Good luck and welcome to the company." She turned to walk out of my office, then stopped and turned around, "And don’t forget your homework assignment. Let us know what you think."

"I will," I promised.

I sat down and started looking through the desk drawers and playing with the computer. Lisa stopped by a few minutes later. "Karen, this is Mr. Pearson." Lisa turned and left.

Mr. Pearson was a tall, good-looking man. He was probably in his fifties, but very athletic looking. He looked like a real, corporate power broker. He walked towards me and held out his hand. I reached over my desk and shook his hand. "Welcome, Karen. We’re glad you took us up on our offer. I hate to say this, but we are under staffed and over worked, so we’re going to throw you into the fray immediately. Why don’t you come down to my office and I’ll give you some insight into what we need."

I followed Mr. Pearson out the door and into the open work area. There were several work cubicles, but the cubicle walls were only 4 feet high. The area was very open. Mr. Pearson silently led me around the room, never saying a word to the secretaries and paralegals. Then we went to the offices around the perimeter of the room and he introduced me to the other lawyers. We worked our way around the room and eventually made it to his corner office.

His office was about twice the size of everyone else’s. He had a large mahogany desk, and a beautiful credenza behind it. Across the room, he had a sofa and two wing back chairs, with a low coffee table between them. There was a stack of papers on the coffee table. "Come over here and take a seat, Karen. Can I get you some coffee or a soft drink?"

I was a bit dry. "If it isn’t too much trouble, I’ll take a diet coke," I answered.

"Not at all, he said." He closed his office door part way, and there was a counter with a sink behind the door. Under the sink he had a small refrigerator. He took out a diet coke and turned towards me, "Would you like a glass?"

"Can is fine."

He returned to the sitting area, handed me the coke and then took a seat on the sofa. "Well then, let’s get to work. I have a lot I’d like to cover with you." He took a sheet of paper off the top of the stack and handed it to me. "This is the organizational chart. I have you reporting to John Taylor and I would like you to help out on two general areas; government contracts and HR issues to make sure that we are compliant with all federal, state and local requirements. It’s going to be a handful."

The discussion lasted almost two hours. He threw so many things at me that I thought I was buried already. But he was a really nice man. I decided immediately that I liked him. It was an intense 2 hours, in that I was overwhelmed with all of the new work and details. At the end of the meeting, I literally waddled to the rest room.

After recovering my composure, I returned to my office and started to sort through some of the numerous files Mr. Pearson had given me. I had barely started when I heard a knock on my door. It was Jasmine and the boy computer specialist. "Ms. Marlowe, do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure Jasmine, come in."

"Ms. Marlowe, this Jason Vail. He is our department’s expert on computers, and he is here to give you an orientation to our computer systems. Do you have time to see him now?"

"Yea, now is as good as any time," I said. I stood and offered my hand to Jason, "Hi Jason, It’s a pleasure to meet you." He took my hand in a very tentative grasp and we shook.

"Nice to me you too," he said. It was obvious that he was very nervous.

"I will leave you two to your work then," Jasmine said. She gave me a quick wink before she turned and walked out the door.

"Well Jason, how do you want to do this?"

"It would be best if you sat in front of the computer and I walk you through the different steps. It usually works better if you do all of the entries yourself."

"Sounds good, Jason. Why don’t you slide that chair over here, and sit beside me."

Jason grabbed one of my chairs and started pushing it. The chair caught on a seam in the carpet and tipped over. He almost went over with the chair. "Sorry." He picked up the chair and pulled it over rather than push it. It came along much better that way. I slid up closer to the keyboard so that he could also get closer. He still set up his chair a long way behind me.

"Jason, you can slide up closer. It will be easier to see."

"Ok," and he slid 2 millimeters closer. I just smiled to myself.

"Where do we start?" I asked.

"Let’s set up your computer for all of your passwords. You will have to tell me your password. We often come in before work, or late at night and load new updates. We need to know your password to do that."

"How long does it need to be?"

"Five to 8 characters and we like to have a mixture of letters and numbers."

I thought for a minute and came up with a neat idea. "Jason, what is your middle name?"

"Mine? James."

"And when were you born?"

"May 15, 1982."

"Ok, how about james82?"

I looked over my shoulder and I could see him turning red. "Yea, that’s ok."

"And it will help you remember it also. Right?"

"Uhh, yea. Cool."

"Ok, what do I do?" Jason James Vail then walked me through several screens, typing in my new password as we went along. We set up defaults, set up icons for the different law databases that I would use on a regular basis, initialized my e-mail, set up nicknames, printers, fax interfaces, calendars and on and on. It went quite well. Normally, computers always jump up and bite you on even the simplest set-ups, but Jason knew what he was doing.

As we moved along, I made small talk during waiting periods. "How long have you worked here Jason?"

"About 4 months."

"Are you from here?"

"Yea, I grew up in Evansville, one of the Chicago suburbs."

"Still live there?"

"For the time being. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be there."

"Where did you go to school?"

"The local vocational school, Evansville Technical."

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"‘One of each."

"Are you close?"

"Sort of. My brother and I are. He’s only one year behind me. I love my sister, but we aren’t really that close."

"That’s too bad," I said.

"Well it’s tough," he said. "She’s moderately autistic, and has her good days and bad days."

That caught me by surprise. "I’m sorry to hear that." He sort of shrugged his shoulders and that was the end of our small talk. I was going to ask him about girl friends, but I couldn’t bring it up.

Jason finished up with the orientation and pushed his chair back. I stood with him and shook hands. "Thanks Jason. If I have any problems, how do I get hold of you?"

"My phone extension is on your list over here, and my desk is out front by Terri." He pulled his chair back to its original position and left. I went back to my pile of folders that Mr. Pearson had given me.

The next time I looked up it was 5:00. Terri and Jasmine each knocked on my door and said goodnight as they headed out. I stayed until about 7:00 P.M. I was getting hungry and my eyes were starting to burn. It was time to turn out the lights and head home.

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning I drove my rust bucket around the parking deck twice before I found my parking spot. It wasn’t very close to the office, but it was all mine. Cool! I was on the corporate ladder. The perks were starting to come. The pay sucked, but you have to start at the bottom I told myself.

I walked in the office at 7:15 and found no one there. I searched around in the twilight of security lights until I found the light switch. I went to my office and logged on to my computer. I spent the next half hour surfing my favorite news sites. A little before 8:00, I started on my stack of files. I worked through the first file, taking notes and making a list of items I wanted to check into.

I finished the first file at 8:30 and decide it was time for a break. I walked through the office and said good morning to Lisa, Terri and Jasmine. I even made a slight detour so that I could walk by Jason’s cubicle and say good morning. On the way to the rest room I noticed that the lights were dark in all of the lawyer’s offices. When I returned, I made it a point to stop by Lisa’s desk. "I don’t see any lights on in the other lawyer’s office. Am I missing a meeting?"

"Not to worry. None of them show up until 9:00."

"I thought work hours started at 8:00," I said.

"Not for lawyers. They might work later than most, but they certainly don’t start at the same time that we do."

"And nobody says anything?" I asked.

"What can they do? Sue them?" She shrugged her shoulders and went back to her computer. As I walked away I noticed she was looking at a Hollywood gossip site. In fact, I walked through the office area and noticed that not one of the girls looked like she was actually working. I went to the kitchenette, got my coffee and went back to my office … and my work.

And I did work. About 9:30 I heard a few hellos out in the office as some of the other lawyers began to arrive. None of them stuck their head in the door to say ‘morning. All of the other lawyers were men. I was starting to wonder if I would be the ‘odd-girl-out’. I quickly decided that I would do everything I could to keep that from happening. I left my office and walked by every lawyer’s office and poked my head in to say good morning. I think I surprised a couple of them.

No one bothered me for the rest of the morning. At noon, Jasmine knocked on my door. "Lunch time," she announced. "Are you going to join us?"

"Sure thing," I said. "Give me a minute first. I have to make a stop." I stopped by the rest room, finished my business, freshened my lipstick and met the girls by Lisa’s desk.

"So how is it going?" Jasmine asked.

"Ok. I’m still looking through the files that Mr. Pearson gave me yesterday. I’m only about one third of the way through the stack."

"Well that’s why you get the big bucks," Terri said.

We all went through the lunch line and sat down at our usual table. "Did you see Linda this morning?" Lisa asked.

"Who’s Linda?" I asked.

"She’s the office bimbo in advertising," Jasmine said.

"Yea, I saw her," Terri said. "Jenny came by and said Linda had the god-ugliest blouse you’ve ever seen. See-through fuchsia. I had to go check it out. It was hideous. She had a black bra and no cami. Pathetic. I thought I was going to barf." She made a motion of poking her finger down her throat.

"That’s what I heard," said Lisa. "I can’t believe Nadine didn’t send her home."

"So who is she chasing?" asked Terri.

"Rumor has it, some married guy. McInnis, McGinnis or something like that."

"What happened to her last paramour?"

"Probably still getting penicillin shots." All three laughed. I did too. It was mean, but kind of funny.

"So Karen, what did you learn yesterday?"

"About what?"

"You know, Jason. Is he gay?"

"I noticed that you guys were sitting awful close together," Jasmine teased.

"Come on, is he gay or is … he … gay?" Terri emphasized her last three words.

"I don’t know. I don’t think so."

"What do you mean, you don’t know?"

"Didn’t you ask him?" They all laughed.

"Yea right, I’m just going to come out and say, "By the way Jason, you gay?’ "

"Sure."

"Why not? Don’t be bashful. Be forceful. That’s how you get ahead in this company."

"Well, to be honest I was working my way towards asking if he had a girlfriend or anything, but I got thrown off the track."

"How?"

"I was asking if he had any siblings, and he told me about his autistic sister."

"Oh." That quieted them for a moment.

Just then, Jason came walking down the aisle and passed our table. "Hi," he said.

We returned his salutation. As he passed our table Jasmine said, "Look at that ass. He’s swishing. He’s gay."

I turned around in my chair to look at him go by. I never saw his butt, because I noticed the stud at the table two behind us. He saw me looking and gave me a brief smile. I snapped a neck muscle as I twisted around back to my table.

"It does look a little swishy," Lisa said. "I have to admit, he has one of the cutest little noses that I’ve ever seen. But I’m just not sure, Jasmine."

"No doubt, no doubt. Right Terri?"

"Absolutely."

"Karen?" I didn’t answer. "Yoo hoo! Karen? Are you still with us?"

"Who’s that guy two tables behind us?" I had only seen a glimpse of him, but his eyes were beautiful.

"Which one?" Lisa asked.

"Two tables behind me and looking this way."

"Ooooh," whispered Jasmine. "Mikey from sales."

"And who is Mikey?"

"He’s single," Terri teased.

"Again," said Lisa.

‘No!"

"Yep. I think it lasted less than a year. Rumor is he isn’t exactly home material. The dog likes to get off the porch and roam."

"Woof, woof,"

"I wonder how big that dog is?" Everyone broke out laughing.

I was intrigued. Those eyes were beautiful. "Where might the sales department be located?" I asked.

Jasmine rolled her eyes and grinned. "Girl, you’ve only been here one day and your sniffing around already?"

"Absolutely not," I said. "I’m just making sure that I don’t accidentally wander through the wrong part of this building." Jasmine almost choked.

The rest of the afternoon my mind kept wandering back to those eyes. I worked until 7:00 P.M. before I went home and made myself a TV dinner.

The next day I arrived at 7:00 and surfed the news outlets until 7:45, and then dug into my pile of files. John Taylor, my immediate boss called around 9:00 and asked if I could meet with him at 10:00. We spent the rest of the morning prioritizing my cases. I was hoping to be asked to join him for lunch, but he never asked. So I asked him. "Are you going to the cafeteria for lunch?"

He brushed me off. "I’m sorry, I’ll be working through lunch today. I have a huge back log." I decided he could come in before 9:00 if he had that much of a backlog. He left each night before I did. I went to lunch with the girls, but I made it a point to come back as early as possible to see if he was really working through lunch. He wasn’t anywhere in sight.

The rest of my week went by fast. The routine was about the same. Friday, Jasmine asked if I wanted to join her for a drink at the bar across the street. I had nothing else to do, and so I agreed. "Great, I’ll stop and get you about 5:30. There is no need to get there too early."

At 5:20, Jasmine picked me up and we strolled across the street to Malloy’s ‘Old Style’ Tavern. I thought Old Style had something to do with the décor. I found out it was a new micro-brewery beer. So what the heck, I tried a ‘new’ Old-Style. We found a booth near the back and sat down. We had just begun rating the men, when I saw him. Mikey was there. I lost track of the conversation and Jasmine notice immediately.

"Who is he?" as she turned around to look. "Oh." She picked him out right away. "Well, how are you going to move on him?"

"Who?"

"Duh. Do I look that ignorant?"

"I don’t know. What do I do?"

"Let me see." She slid out of the booth and sat down on my side of the booth. She slid next to me. "Let me watch for a minute." We watched him as he talked with a couple of guys. Every once in a while they would laugh and then each of them would take a quick glance around at the crowd. It was hard to tell if they were looking to see who was there, or looking to see who was watching them. There were obviously some large egos in action.

"He’s talking with two other sales guys. I think the one on the left is married. I’m not sure."

"Do you know anything about him?"

Jasmine slid a little closer to me. She patted me on the back of my hand and then left her hand on mine. "I can find out anything in this company. It might take a couple of days, and I might have to kill a few people, but I can do it."

I started laughing. "Don’t kill anyone on my account. Only if they deserve it."

"What do you want to know?"

"Only the basics; height, weight, mother’s maiden name and the size of his … bank account."

"Ah yes. Just the basics. Well, it’s going to cost you."

"How much?" I asked.

"For starters, can you give me a ride home tonight?"

"I’m not sure that’s a wise idea."

"Why?"

"The rust might stain your skirt."

She grasped my hand, almost as if we were holding hands, and wiggled it back and forth. "I’ll take the chance if it is ok with you. How’s your drink? Would you like another? I’ll buy."

"Sure."

Jasmine squeezed me on the shoulder as she slipped out of the booth and headed towards the bar. Then I received the shock of the night. Mikey walked over to my table. "Hi, I’m Mike Nichols. I’ve seen you around the office this week. Are you our new hot-shot lawyer?’

I was a bit flustered. "I don’t know about the hot-shot part, but I am new to the company."

"I’ld like to welcome you to the company. May I buy you a drink?"

"Yea. Oh wait, no." I really was flustered. "I have a drink coming."

"I’m sorry to hear that. I was looking forward to buying you a drink. Could I at least ask you your name?"

"I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten my manners. I’m Karen Marlowe, and I extended my hand. Where do you work Mr. Nichols?"

"Sixth floor, sales department. I’m responsible for international sales."

"Really? Do you travel overseas?"

"A little bit. I usually make two trips a year to Europe and one or two to Asia. Are you a traveler?"

"Unfortunately, no. I’d love to go to Europe, but so far my traveling has been limited to Six Flags." Just as the conversation was starting to show some promise, Jasmine returned. She handed me my drink and sat down next to me. "Have you met?" I asked. They both gave a negative head shake. "Mike Nichols, this is Jasmine. Jasmine works with me in the law department."

They shook hands. There was a short, awkward silence and then Mike decided to back away. "Well, I should get back to my friends. It was nice meeting you Jasmine, and Karen welcome to our company. I hope I see more of you."

Nice double entendre I thought. "It was nice meeting you also. I’d like to see more of you also." I gave him a nice smile. He smiled and shook his head. We both understood. He gave me a quick wave and walked back to his friends.

Jasmine gave me a sly smile. "Couldn’t wait for me? You had to go out and do your own reconnaissance?"

"The opportunity presented its self and I acted upon it."

We spent another hour at the tavern, had another drink and then I hit my limit. It had been a long week and I wasn’t used to the pace. I was tired and the three beers that I had drunk were enough to put me under. I decided that I had better give Jasmine a ride home while I still could.

We walked back to my rust-bucket and the air helped wake me up. Jasmine gave me directions as I took her home. When we arrived at her home, she reached over and squeezed my leg. Then she rubbed my leg a couple times and said, "Thanks, Karen. See you on Monday."

It took me another 45 minutes to drive home. I decided that I had to start looking for my own apartment. Something closer to work. I walked in the door just as Gloria was walking out. "I’m going to Glitter. Want to join me?"

"Sorry, I’m beat." I made my self a quick salad and crawled into bed.

CHAPTER THREE

Monday morning I arrived at my desk and laid the Sunday paper out. I started going through the apartments-for-rent section, hi-liting or circling the ads that looked promising. My desk was covered with the papers and my notes, when I tried to log onto the computer to search one of the web sites that were mentioned. The computer couldn’t find anything out in the virtual world. My connection or something was dead.

I called Jason and asked him to come help. Jason arrived and said, "Good morning. What’s the problem?"

"I tried to pull up a web site on local apartments but nothing comes up. I tried a couple of my bookmarks and they’re all dead, too."

Jason walked behind my desk and sat down. "Let’s start over. I’ll reboot and log on as the administrator and see what happens." He shut down the computer and then had to wait a couple of minutes while it went through its normal re-boot protocol. He looked at all of the papers spread across my desk. "Are you looking for a new apartment?"

"Yea. I need something closer to work."

"When you’re ready to move, let me know. I’d be glad to help you."

I didn’t know what to say. Most people don’t volunteer that quickly for work. "Thanks, I don’t have much to move, but I’ll keep you in mind."

"Everyone thinks they don’t have much to move until they actually start boxing stuff and getting ready. Then you’re always surprised at how much more junk there really is. Keep me in mind. I really wouldn’t mind helping you."

The computer came up and Jason started diagnosing my problem. He only took about 5 minutes to get me up and running again.

That week I began to form my routine. I came in well before the other employees. Jason was usually second in, but almost a half hour after me. I would surf the net for news and entertainment items. I usually had lunch with the girls, and they spent the lunch hour gossiping and tearing down everyone else in the company. Their favorite targets were Linda in advertising, and Jason the ‘queer’.

I tried to get the other lawyers to recognize that I was actually employed at the same company as they were. Not a single one of them ever invited me to lunch. I tried to invite them on several occasions, and only once did anyone of them join me.

In the afternoon, Jason usually stopped by and asked if I wanted to walk down the hall to the vending machines and get a soft drink. More often than not he volunteered to buy me a drink. Jasmine would stop in several times a day to say hello or drop off some work. She would usually stay and talk a few minutes. But other than that, no one bothered with me. I was feeling ignored. I was not making friends very fast.

On Thursday, Mikey stopped by. He knocked on my door late in the afternoon. "Hey, anyone home?"

"Come in. I haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy?"

"Yea. I had to make a quick overnight trip to New York on Tuesday. They keep you busy around here."

"Yea, I guess so."

"So how are you doing? Getting into the swing of things?"

"Pretty much. I’m still doing my initial review on several of my cases, but I’m working my way towards the bottom of the pile."

"Good, I’m sure you’ll get on top of everything soon enough," and he gave me a devilish grin. I caught his meaning. "So, I was wondering."

"You were? I’m glad to see that you’re inquisitive."

"Yea, well it keeps me going. But what I was really wondering about is whether or not you might be free on Saturday night?"

"Lawyers are never free. But some times we are a bargain."

He actually chuckled at that joke. "Well yea, I was looking for a bargain. I was wondering if you might be interested in dinner. Maybe we could go dancing or catch a show afterwards. Whatever you prefer."

"Sure, I think I can find some free time. Dancing might be fun."

"Well, … ahh … good. What say I pick you up around 6:00?"

"That sounds fine."

He sighed a breath of relief. "So where do I pick you up?"

I gave him my address and he left for his office. I was feeling great. Finally, I was getting some social life. It wasn’t two minutes after Mikey left and Jasmine came to my office. "You look like you’re smiling. Catch a mouse?"

"Maybe."

"Well, I hope it wasn’t a rat." That comment threw me. "Did he ask you out on a date?"

"Yep. Saturday night. Dinner and dancing."

"Oooh, that sounds nice. Does that mean your dance card is open for Friday?"

"I guess so. We could stop for a drink across the street if you want."

"I was thinking of another spot, about two blocks away, Bridgette’s. Does that sound ok?"

"Sure. What time?"

"5:30 ok?"

And so I had two nights planned for the upcoming weekend. Life was getting even better.

It ended up being an interesting weekend. Bridgette’s was a girl’s bar. It was becoming apparent that Jasmine had another agenda. We took a booth away from the bar and the busy area of the bar. She bought the drinks and after the second drink, joined me on my side of the booth. We faced the front of the bar and she kept a running dialog about the girls coming in the front door. She made a point of patting my hand or knee, or rubbing against my shoulder as we talked.

I had lived with a lesbian for a couple of years. I never had any type of quarrel with anyone’s lifestyle. But I was not attracted to Jasmine. Yet, I couldn’t say no to her. I couldn’t come out and say ‘Stop, I’m not interested’. I know I was leading her on with no intention of getting together with her, but I was afraid to say no. I needed her as a friend at work. My social life was thin as it was. I couldn’t afford to lose anyone at this time. Or so I thought. So, although I didn’t actually encourage her, I didn’t stop her.

We had dinner at the bar, just sandwiches and fries. We stayed until about 10:00. Jasmine asked for a ride home and I obliged. When we arrived at her apartment she invited me in for a night cap. I was ready for her. I had begun leading her on at Bridgette’s that I was starting my period. I told her I was feeling ‘pre-menstrual’ and I just wasn’t in the mood for a drink. I was going to have to be more elusive in the future if I wanted to keep her friendship, but not have to bed her.

Saturday wasn’t much better. I was infatuated with Mikey, his eyes were gorgeous. But he seemed to be just as interested in his ego as he was in me. But like I said, I was infatuated. We went to a great restaurant, and Mikey put out the bucks. Shrimp cocktails, lobster, expensive wine and chocolate death. Then we went to a local club that was also upscale. Mikey was a pretty good dancer. But all through the night he always managed to run into old girl friends and guy friends. He had no problem leaving me hanging for 5 or 10 minutes as he talked with his old buddies.

At least he wasn’t quite as pushy as Jasmine at the end of the night. He asked if I wanted to stop by his apartment and I declined. He only asked once and didn’t bring it up again. When he dropped me off at my apartment he managed to hang around trying for an invite. I used my ‘premenstrual’ excuse on him and he politely accepted it. He asked if I had a nice evening and I admitted that I had. "Maybe we could do something again next weekend?"

"Sure," I encouraged him.

Sunday I got serious about apartment hunting. I made a few calls and drove over to two apartments. I liked the first one that I saw, and began negotiating. After all, isn’t that what lawyers do? On Monday I was back at work and sending over personal information for the apartment manager to check out. By Thursday I had been accepted. Jasmine again asked me out on Friday night, and I had the perfect excuse. I had to go close the deal on my apartment before I lost it to someone else. I asked for a raincheck and she gladly obliged me. I had made it a point to remain polite and friendly with her all week, but I tried not to get alone with her.

Jason was still the only man in my department who would give me more than the time of day. I was getting to the point where I found him in mid-afternoon and asked him to walk down and get a soft drink. I mentioned that I had found an apartment. "When will you be moving in?" he asked.

"Not this weekend but next weekend."

"Would you like some help moving in? I would be happy to help."

I was hoping to get Mikey to help me. "Thanks, but I’m not sure if I’ll need help. Can I let you know next week? Is that too late for your schedule?" I had a strong hunch that Jason’s weekends weren’t booked very full.

"Sure he said. I’ll check back with you on Monday. Ok?"

"Ok."

Mikey and I went out again on Saturday. Again he took me to a very nice restaurant. And he did pay more attention to me. We didn’t run into nearly as many old friends, and I made sure by insisting on going to a dance club in my old neighborhood. Not Glitter, but one of the straight clubs. He didn’t have any friends in that neighborhood.

As the evening wore on, I was pleased with his attention and demeanor. I was starting to melt a little bit, and I even thought that I might take him tonight. Then I asked him if he could help me move next weekend. Nope. Too busy. Plans with his buddies. Golfing or some other garbage. I was pissed. It was obvious that he sure wasn’t ready for any commitment. And so neither was I. I did give in and give him a goodnight kiss. It was almost a goodnight handshake, but I was still interested in him. I thought he still had potential, so I didn’t slam the door shut.

I arrived at work on Monday, still peeved at Mikey. Jason arrived around 7:30 and he immediately came to my office. "Morning. Have a nice weekend?"

"It was ok," I answered half-heartedly. "How about you?"

"Boring. My brother was in town and I didn’t do much."

"Sorry to hear that."

"I was checking back to see if you needed any help moving this weekend."

"Thanks, it’s really nice of you to offer. Yes I could use some help. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. That’s why I’m here. When do you want to move?"

"Early Saturday, ok? Say 9:00 or 10:00?"

"I can be there at 9:00. Where do you live?" I told him, then he added, "By the way, I don’t have a car. All I can offer is a willing back."

"That would be great, I’ll take it." He smiled and returned to his desk. He really was a nice kid. At lunch the girls were still putting him down behind his back. I probably should have said something, but the girls were the only people who even acknowledged my existence at work. So I kind of played along with them. Jasmine was probably the meanest. She was constantly calling him swishy and sissy. She made fun of his clothes and how he talked. I thought Lisa, being the office manager, should have said something, but she let it continue, and she actually threw in a few insults herself.

I continued to try to break into the old-boys club, but I was having no luck. The other lawyers always split for lunch and I never earned an invitation. I was starting to get the message — ‘No girls allowed’. Mikey never showed up all week. I guess he didn’t want to take a chance on having to help me move. The only person who could talk nicely to me and not insult others was Jason. And Jason wasn’t the person I was interested in.

But Jason was the only person who showed up on Saturday. Jason arrived exactly on time. "Good morning," he said as he presented me with cinnamon rolls.

"Wow, thanks," I responded a bit flabbergasted. "You didn’t have to bring anything."

"It makes the morning a bit more tolerable." I poured us each a cup of coffee and we ate the rolls. He was in a hurry to get started so we began taking boxes down to the mini-van that I had rented. The first load was primarily the small boxes of clothes and dishes. Jason took the passenger seat and I drove us over to my new apartment. The new apartment complex had a 4-wheel cart, which made life much easier. We would load the cart and run it up to the fourth floor and drop off the boxes and then head down for the next load. The unloading went mush faster than the loading part.

I gave Jason a quick tour before we went down for our second load. He was duly impressed and I was happy that with his response. After all, I was a high-paid lawyer now, so I should have a nice large apartment. We finished with the first load and then went back to my old apartment and loaded the larger items; bed, dresser, sofa and my stereo system. There wasn’t much else because I didn’t have very much. A third trip to handle another load of boxes finished our moving part. Jason stayed around and helped me put the bed back together and also helped me set up my computer and stereo systems. He did know his way around electronics.

By 4:00 we pretty much had everything assembled, put in place or put away. Jason was walking around, surveying our job when he walked into the spare bedroom. "There is nothing in here," he said to the echo. "What are you going to do with this room?"

"I don’t know. Knowing me, I’ll eventually have it filled with garbage that I should throw away. But since I have the extra room, I know I’ll keep stuff that I shouldn’t. Eventually it will get pretty cluttered, I’m sure."

I wanted to thank Jason for his help so I asked him to dinner. "No, that’s alright. You don’t have to buy me a thing. I enjoyed helping."

"I insist. It’s just going to be a sandwich and beer ok?"

"I guess that will be ok."

We locked up and walked a block down the street to a local corner tavern. We took a seat at the bar and both ordered a beer. We asked for a menu and placed our orders. "So Jason, what do you do for fun and recreation?"

"Not much. I’m taking care of my parent’s house, so I spend most of my weekends mowing grass and fixing odds and ends around the house."

"No girl friend?"

"Not yet." He was rather quiet and didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. We sat and nursed our beers.

"So how did you end up taking care of your parent’s home?"

"Mom and dad took Kara, that’s my sister, to a home in Wisconsin. She’s autistic and needs extra help. Rather than just dump her at the home, mom and dad bought a house nearby and visit Kara every day. They moved up there about 2 years ago. So my brother and I stayed in my parents house so we could both finish school. We both finished high school and then I started at the local vocational school. After graduating I started here at our company."

"What about your brother?"

"He’s a year younger than me. He finished high school then he got a job as a surveyor. A friend of my dad’s down the street got him the job. He didn’t actually do the surveying, he held the pole and measured things. His company went around the country surveying high power lines for the local utilities. They traveled all over the country. He left on a Tuesday and worked through the weekend and returned the following Friday. So he worked 10 days on and then got 4 days off."

"Sounds like an interesting set up."

"It was. I had the house all to myself for almost two weeks at a time. When he came home he usually was off with his buddies and rarely stayed at the house."

"So you’re at home alone for two weeks at a time?"

"Pretty much. It gives me a chance to work around the house and play with my hobby."

"You didn’t say what your hobby was."

He was quiet for a couple moments and then said, "I like to work on the computer. I have a personal web site where I post pictures and have a blog and diary."

"Really? What’s the address, I’d like to visit it."

"Ahhh … it’s kind of personal, and pretty lame. I’d rather not tell anyone."

"But you already put it out there for the public to see."

"But it’s anonymous. People who stumble across it have no idea who I really am. I’d rather keep it personal."

"Ok, it’s your web site."

He was quiet for a couple moments, then said, "But anyway, that might be over pretty soon."

"What do you mean?"

"My brother lost his job, contracts came up, and he can’t find anything else. He’s probably going to join the army."

"That’s too bad. The economy is tough. It took me 3 months to land this job."

"Yea, its tough out there." He turned quiet and didn’t say much more.

We had a second beer and finished our meal. I thanked Jason for the help and he said goodnight and started towards the bus stop. I had forgotten my manners. "Jason, can I give you a ride home?"

"Not to worry, it’s a long way out and not necessary. I’ll see you Monday. G’night."

I used Sunday to return the mini-van and finish settling into my new apartment. I was really going to like it. Monday arrived and things were back to normal. At lunch the girl’s quizzed me on my new apartment. "Did Mikey help you move in?" Jasmine asked.

"Nope, he was too busy with his buddies," I said sarcastically.

"They’re all like that," she said. "They’re only interested in one thing."

"Did you get some help from someone?" Lisa wanted to know.

"Jason was nice enough to offer to help."

"The little gay boy?" Jasmine still liked to rag on him.

"He was really nice and helpful."

"So did he tell you he’s gay?"

"No he didn’t, and no I don’t think he is."

"Does he have a girl friend?"

"I asked, and he said no."

"He’s gay," they all agreed.

"Swish, swish, swish," Jasmine added.

And that’s about how the week proceeded. Mikey asked for another date on Saturday, and I agreed. After dinner and a show he took me home. He asked if he could see my new apartment. I agreed and took him up for a quick look around. Then it was almost impossible to get him out. It was mostly my fault. I was sending mixed signals. We had a nice night and I was almost ready to go to bed with him, but at the last minute I got cold feet. It was only our third date and I was still angry with him about not helping me move. I chased him out after Saturday Night Live was over

The following Monday, Jason wandered into my office about 9:00. "Have a nice weekend?"

"I guess it was ok," I said. "Nothing much to brag about. How about you."

"Well, it wasn’t very good."

"I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"My parents called. I am going to have to move out and find a new place to live."

"That’s too bad." I said sincerely. "Why do you have to move?"

"They sold the house. I kind of knew this was coming. Eventually. But I didn’t expect it yet. The house has been on the market for 4 months, and only two couples have ever looked at it. But I guess they made an offer and mom and dad accepted. I have to move out by next weekend."

"But I thought they were letting you and your brother stay there?"

"They were, but they always said it was just until we were out of school. I guess they need the money. It’s expensive to take care of Kara. The government doesn’t give you much help. My brother lost his job and now he’s going into the army. So it works out rather well for them. I’m the only one displaced."

"Have you started looking for an apartment yet?"

"No." His tone of voice said it all. He was really down in the dumps. "I don’t have any savings and so I can’t afford the security deposit most places want. Once I get moved in to some place, I might be ok. They don’t pay paralegals very much around here." He gave me a sheepish grin. "But mom and dad said that as soon as the house deal closes, they’ll give my brother and me each $10,000. I’ll be able to get started on that. The only problem is that it will probably take a month or so for everything to get closed and finalized."

"What are you going to do until then?"

"I have some friends down the street. Actually, they’re old friends of mom and dad’s. They have a spare room over their garage and they’ll let me stay there for only $50 per week. And there is no security deposit."

"That sounds good," I said.

"But I have a big favor to ask," he said while looking at the floor and twiddling his fingers.

"If I can help, I’ll be glad to do whatever I can," and I gave him an encouraging smile.

"Well … ahhh …"

"Just ask."

"You’ve got a spare bedroom with some empty space. Would it be ok if I stored a few boxes there until I get into my own apartment?"

"Of course. How many?"

"A dozen or so. And would it also be ok if I left a bed and dresser set?"

"Absolutely. It’ll make my bedroom look like I own more furniture. Yea Jason, we can do that. When do you want to move your things over?"

"Is this weekend ok?"

"Not a problem," I told him. "Do you need help with the actual moving?"

"I could use some help with the bulky items like the mattress and dresser."

"Ok, do you want me to come over to your house on Saturday morning."

"No that won’t be necessary. I have to rent a van to haul the things, so I’ll stop by and pick you up. Say 9:00 A.M.?"

"That works for me. It’s a date." His eyes lit up and he was looking much better. I knew how it was to have no money, so I was glad to help him out. After all, he had helped me.

That weekend Mikey was on one of his trips to Europe so I had no date on Saturday. That would make things easier. Jasmine again asked me out on Friday night. I had a good excuse this time. I had joined a study group of old friends from school. We were helping each other prepare for our board exams. The exams were only one week away and we were meeting 5 nights a week. Jasmine seemed satisfied with the excuse. But she knew Mikey was out of town, so she asked about Saturday night. I told her I was helping Jason move and I had no idea when we would finish.

"The gay boy?" she said.

"Jason. I don’t think he is gay. Besides, he was the only one who helped me move, so I owe him." That quieted her.

Saturday morning Jason arrived right on time and with cinnamon rolls. We had a cup of coffee with our rolls before we left for his house. It was almost a 45 minute drive through town. He backed the van into the driveway and we went inside. His parents were waiting for us. "Karen, this is my mother Janice and my father Jerry."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you both," I said

"The pleasure is ours," his mother said. "Its so nice of you to help Jason. He can really use the help."

"That’s right," said Jerry. "He can always use a friend. He’s not like his brother."

I wondered what in the world that was all about. Jason was turning a bit red, and he ended the conversation by suggesting that we begin loading the dresser. His father helped him take it out and slide it into the van. Next they took out the bed frame and then the box springs and finally the mattress. That filled the van.

"Can the two of you handle unloading this? Do you want me to come along and help?"

"That’s not necessary dad. Karen’s apartment has a large 4-wheel cart and we can slide everything onto the cart. It won’t be a problem." Jason almost looked relieved when his dad agreed to stay behind.

We climbed in the van and started back to my place. "Your parents seem nice." I was trying to make conversation. He shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. So I started asking about his old neighborhood and his youth. He didn’t want to talk about that either. He grunted to a couple of my questions and that was that. He seemed to be in a pretty lousy mood.

"Its tough moving out isn’t?"

"Sort of. It was easy enough staying at home. But there are some things that I won’t miss."

"Like what?" I was trying to keep a conversation going.

"Stuff," and that ended that conversation. So we drove back to my apartment in silence.

It took us the better part of an hour to unload the van. The mattress and box springs were taken up one at a time and they were very bulky and difficult to maneuver around corners and on the elevator. We left them leaning against a wall in the spare bedroom while we went and got the dresser. It was heavier than the mattress and box springs, but not as bulky and flimsy. It rolled up much easier. The bed frame was in pieces and it was the easiest.

"Do you want to set up the bed now, or do you want to finish getting your other things," I asked.

"Let’s do this later. I’d like to finish up at my house if we can."

By the time we drove back to his house it was almost 1:00. He had dozens of boxes piled up in the family room. They were heavily taped and stacked to one side. We started carrying them to the van, and they were fairly light. "Are these clothes?" I asked.

"Mostly."

"You must have a large wardrobe. You must be quite the clothes horse," I quipped.

"Well there’s a few other items, like towels and sheets," he said defensively.

After the clothes we loaded his computer, CD collection and a few other items. "Aren’t you going to need your computer at your other place? What will you do for entertainment at night?"

"I’ve got another computer," he said. "In fact, I have 3. Plus I have a small TV. I’ll be alright."

We finished packing the van at 2:30. And it was packed! "Before you go, I’ve made a light lunch," his mother announced. "Karen, do you like tuna fish?"

"Yea, that would be great." Jason rolled his eyes at his mom, but showed me the way to the bathroom so I could wash my hands.

Lunch was delicious but at the same time it was like a horror movie. I have never heard parents belittle one child and brag about another like the Vails did. They were horrendous. I can’t even put some of their put-downs on paper. Son number one, Jason, had no talent, no intelligence and no friends. Son number two, William, was a star jock, Homecoming king, and loved by all. Actually, William must not have been all that smart. He didn’t get any scholarships and went to work straight out of high school. Eventually, a lousy economy and a miserable administration stranded him in the army.

I felt so sorry for Jason. His parents treated him like a leper and non-entity. His only claim to fame was he was William’s brother. They talked about him like he was not even present. His autistic sister won more praise than Jason. I heard the story how Jason embarrassed himself in a swimming meet when he was only 8. I learned about the time his pants split open during at school play at the age of 9. He never had a date in his life. He was so uncoordinated he was always picked last in school gym. The neighborhood boys called him sissy and used to beat him up all the time. He must have came home with a bloody nose every other day.

I was horrified. I was shocked. I looked at Jason and he just slid lower and lower in his chair. I couldn’t wait to get out of the house. I left half of my sandwich and refused dessert. I claimed that I had a study date that night and we had to get moving quickly.

It was distinctly obvious why Jason was so shy and why he had so little self-esteem. He spent an entire childhood being destroyed by his parents. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why they did it to him. The only thing I could think of was his lack of physical ability. His dad was athletic looking, and many of his comments centered around athletics. He must have influenced the mother to also think son number one was a failure because he wasn’t athletic. And his younger, athletic brother probably made everything worse.

Jason said almost nothing on the drive over to my house. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t very well say ‘Your parents are ass-holes’. I thought I would give Jason some additional attention that night. "Jason, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," he sniffed.

"Stop at the next 7-11. I’d like to pick up a few things. We’ll need some refreshments as we put your bed together and get your other stuff stowed away."

He shocked me when he became even more defensive. "No that’s ok. Please, just leave my stuff in the boxes. I’ll be moving into my new apartment in no time and I don’t want to unpack and re-pack. Besides, I don’t want to waste your time. Please, don’t bother. Its ok, really," he stammered.

"That’s ok, we can keep your boxes stowed. But I would like to set up your bed and organize the bedroom so that it looks like a guest room, or at least semi-finished. That’s all. Is that ok?"

"Yea, I guess that will be ok. Really, I appreciate you letting me store my stuff here, and I don’t want to be a bother."

"Jason, can I say something very mean?"

He seemed stunned, and even more defensive. "Why?" he almost cried out.

"Because it needs to be said. You’re parents are ass-holes. I’m sorry, but the things they said about you were totally unacceptable. It was like they were deliberately trying to hurt you. Nobody, I mean nobody, should have to suffer that from their own parents. It was like they hated you and they were trying to poison me against you also. I hated hearing what they were saying about you."

Jason remained quiet. He looked straight ahead as he continued to drive. I could see him bite his lower lip.

"Jason, I’m sorry to say bad things about your parents." I remained quiet for a moment, waiting to see if he would say anything. He remained quiet. "Jason, I want you to know that I am your friend. I have totally forgotten what your parents said, and I promise that I will never repeat anything they said. He did give me a sideway glance. There was a 7-11 coming up on the right side of the road. He pulled in and parked the car.

"What kind of beer do you like?" I asked.

"I like MGD." I bought a six-pack and some microwave popcorn, and Jason drove us to my apartment.

We arrived at my place and we unloaded the van. "Do you have to take the van back tonight I asked?"

"I’ll save some money if I do," he explained.

"Ok, I’ll follow you over to the rental agency and give you a ride back. Ok?"

He finally smiled a little. "Yea, I’d appreciate that. Thanks."

We turned in the car, and he even talked a bit on the way back to my place. When we returned I opened a beer and handed it to him. "How about you show me how to put your bed together." We put the bed together and stacked the boxes neatly in the closet and against the wall. I went and got come some sheets and a comforter and we made up the bed. I put a set of doilies on the dresser and stepped back. It looked habitable if need be.

Than I did something out of the clear blue. I didn’t even think about what I was saying. It ended up being one of the best things I ever did. How ironic, considering some of the things I would do in the future. "Jason, would you like to spend the evening here? You can use your own bed. What do you think?"

I’ve never seen a face go from death and gloom to smiles so fast in my entire life. He tried to belie his enthusiasm and act incredulous that I would even ask something like that. "I’m not sure that I can impose on you after everything that you have done for me."

It was obvious how much the offer meant to him. It was impossible for him to hide his enthusiasm. "Sure you can stay, and I will not discuss it any longer. How about we pop some of that popcorn and see what’s on the tube?" The huge smile beaming across his face said it all. I actually felt proud of myself.

CHAPTER FOUR

Monday morning, I arrived a bit after 7:00 and Jason came in about 7:30. I heard him out in the bullpen area, shuffling around and turning on additional lights. About 5 minutes later he came into my office and placed a small vase with two roses on my desk. He stood back and smiled.

"What’s this all about?" I asked.

"It’s just a little thank you for helping out this weekend. It meant a lot to me."

I smiled. I felt proud of myself. Amazing considering how much time we girls would spend tearing him apart behind his back. That thought made me feel a bit of shame. "Jason, I’m glad I could help." He walked out of my office about six inches taller than when he came in.

Sure enough, at lunch Jasmine brought up my weekend and asked how my Saturday with Jason had gone. She was particularly mean. "Did he have a lot of dolls to move? Do his Barbie dolls have a large wardrobe? Does he have the Malibu Barbie beach house? Does he sleep with his teddy bear? Did you see his jammies? Do they have feet in them?"

That last question got a pretty good laugh from all of the girls, even me. It was mean, I know it, but I was back with the girls. I was reverting back into their mentality. I wasn’t proud of myself, but I laughed. They were the only social group I had any contact with. I felt that I needed them, so I succumbed to my baser emotions.

Monday afternoon was a first. Mikey came to my office and asked me out Wednesday night. I thought that maybe he was getting serious. But his timing was bad. This was the week for my board exams. I was going to take an extra day of vacation for studying and then two days to take the boards and decompress. I made a counter offer for Saturday. He accepted.

Saturday came and he picked me up at 7:00 P.M. He took me to a very upscale restaurant and we had a scrumptious meal. They had a piano bar and we decided to stay there and have a cocktail after dinner. Mikey was very charming and humorous. He told me a bit about his childhood and some stories from his latest international business trips. I was favorably impressed with him. And I was horny.

I decided that I would take him home and sleep with him. When he took me home, I asked him to come up to my apartment. When we arrived, I put on some soft music and offered him a bit of wine. We sat on the sofa and immediately began kissing. Kissing soon turned into pawing and petting, followed by the slow removal of various bits and pieces of clothing. I was getting turned on and so was he. I suggested that we adjourn to the bedroom where it would be a bit more comfortable.

We helped each other finish stripping and I was impressed with his size. He was the biggest man that I had ever had. We slipped into my bed, and he immediately rolled on top of me and slipped his penis inside me. I was hoping for more foreplay and attention, but I was just as excited as he was. He was big, but I was so wet he had no trouble entering me. I loved the feeling of his large penis inside me. He literally filled me up and it felt great. It took him less than 2 or 3 minutes to orgasm. After he reached orgasm he stopped his thrusting. I wasn’t finished, and I was forced to start pushing harder, which was a bit difficult under his weight. But eventually I was able to bring myself to orgasm.

After finishing, he kissed me, pulled his penis out, rolled over and immediately fell to sleep. That was it! That was the end of the evening. I was left lying there, facing the ceiling wondering what had just happened. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I cleaned up, put on a negligee then went to the kitchen to get a bit of juice. When I came back to bed he was snoring, oblivious to the rest of the world. ‘Just like a man’, I thought. I eventually fell asleep next to him.

The next morning he really pissed me off. I woke up at 7:00 and he was getting dressed. He leaned over and kissed me, "Gotta go, I have a tee time of 8:00. I have to hurry. I’ll call you, bye." And out the door he went. Slam, bam, thank you ma’am. I had been used and thrown away. At least that’s the way it felt. I was hot! If I had had a knife I think I would have cut off his manhood! The nerve of that son-of —a-bitch! Use ‘em and throw ‘em away! I lay in bed seething for about another half hour. I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was too angry.

I headed to the bathroom to take a nice long bath. When I reached the bathroom, things got worse. The floor was covered with water. I looked around and saw water running from the ceiling and down the wall. "God damn it!" I swore. I walked out to the living room and called the super and reported it. I changed into some old clothes, then went back to the bathroom and started mopping up the mess.

About 45 minutes later the super knocked on the front door. "Sorry for the trouble. Your upstairs neighbor put some stockings in the sink and left the water running. The stockings got caught in the over-flow drain and the sink ran over. She went to church and forgot all about the water running. Can I see the damage?"

I unlatched the door and let him in. He took a quick look at the bathroom and announced that he would have someone fix the plaster on the ceiling later in the week. "It will need to dry out before we can do anything. It ran down the wall?" he asked.

"Yea."

"And then across the floor." I shook my head yes. "Maybe we better check the adjacent room." He led me into the spare bedroom. The water had leaked under the wall and had soaked the bottom of two boxes. He helped unstack the boxes and move the two wet ones to a dry spot. He took the mop and soaked up the remaining water.

"I’d check out those boxes and make sure nothing was ruined. If it was you’ll have to check with your renter’s insurance to take care of it," he told me.

"You don’t cover damage to personal items?" I asked.

"Nope. We only insure the building and fixtures. Personal property has to be covered by your own insurance." He walked to the front door. "Again, I’m sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll probably come back on Wednesday or Thursday to fix the damage to the ceiling. I’ll let you know before we start. Have a nice day," and out the door he went.

‘Have a nice day!’ What a nice day it was shaping up to be. My boyfriend was a prick, a big prick, but a prick none-the-less. And now this. I didn’t have any renter’s insurance. I had forgotten all about it. I hoped there wasn’t anything expensive in the wet boxes.

I went to the kitchen and pulled out a steak knife and returned to the bedroom. Jason must have used half a roll of duct tape on each box. I cut through the tape on the first box, tossed the knife aside and opened the flaps. I was confused by what I saw. There was a woman’s brassiere sitting on top. That didn’t seem right at all. I lifted out the brassiere and picked up the next garment. It was a white half-slip. I took out the next garment, a full-length slip. Then a couple more half-slips, followed by some very nice camisoles. As I reached the bottom I found a dozen or more women’s panties. The panties were soaking wet. I took them into the bathroom and laid them across the shower rod and the knobs of the bathtub faucet.

This was rather interesting I thought. I wondered if they belonged to Jason’s mother and he had them by mistake. I was quickly cured of that fantasy when I opened the second box. It had a shoebox on top. I opened it and found a couple of computer disks and some pictures. They were pictures of a nice looking girl in her late teens. It looked like she was modeling clothes. In a few of the pictures she had short blonde hair, in some she had straight black hair and in others she had curly red hair. She looked a bit familiar.

I set the shoebox aside and noticed a couple of magazines. There were two magazines titled ‘Forced Womanhood’ and about 6 ‘Transformation’ magazines. A quick look showed that they were all about transvestites and crossdressing. In the bottom of the box I found a leather corset, a couple of girdles, 3 or 4 panties with built in fanny pads, 4 garter belts and two all-in-one panty-girdle-bra foundations. All of the clothes were wet, so I took them to the kitchen and hung them up.

Then I returned to the bedroom. Jason was a TV! How interesting I thought. And how appropriate. It was beginning to make sense now. I thought he was a little effeminate, but I had never pictured him as being gay. Very interesting indeed. And how intriguing! I decided to open the rest of his boxes and see what else he had.

I spent the next 3 hours snooping through all of his belongings. As I pulled sweaters and skirts and dresses and all types of female clothing out of the boxes, I noticed that I was running out of room on the bed and dresser. I decided that I had better hang up the clothes and I began placing the other items in his dresser. I didn’t want to take a chance on any more accidents.

I couldn’t believe the extensive wardrobe he had. Besides all the clothes that a girl could possibly want, he had 4 different wigs, each with its own Styrofoam head. I placed them on the upper shelf in the closet. He had over a dozen pairs of shoes; everything from sandals to knee high boots with stiletto heels. There was jewelry, purses, scarves and a nice leather winter coat. There was enough makeup for a lifetime. He had perfume, nail polish, and plenty of nail buffers and files. There were more than 30 pairs of nylons, many still in their original bags. He had thigh highs, knee highs, stockings for use with garters and many different styles and colors of pantyhose and tights. It was amazing.

In addition he had satin sheets, pillow cases and a frilly pink down comforter. It was obvious where all of his money was going. After putting his other things away, I made the bed using his sheets and comforter. They were better than anything that I had, and they did belong to his bed.

I picked up the shoebox of CDs and carried his magazines into the kitchen. I was starting to get hungry, so I made myself a sandwich and took out a beer (I had earned it) and I began flipping through his magazines. They were very amusing and often hilarious. I loved the pictures in the ‘Forced Womanhood’ magazine. In the ‘Transformation ‘ magazine, I had to admit that I was impressed by some of the girls. They looked very nice and made convincing girls. At least in the pictures.

After flipping through the magazines, I washed my dishes and went back to the living room. I took out my laptop and booted up. When it was ready, I slid in one of the CDs and pulled up the index. It was full of pictures and jpegs, text articles and many html files. I copied them over to the C drive and then slid in the next CD. He had about 15 CDs, so there were a ton of files. I sorted by file type and brought up a thumbnail screen on the pictures. I glanced at them quickly, and saw that they were like the pictures that he had printed.

When I first saw his prints it hadn’t dawned on me who was in the pictures. It never entered my mind. I didn’t see Jason in those pictures. But now that I knew, I did indeed see his features and body language. He was very good though. He looked very convincing, very feminine, very pretty. In some he tried to look too sexy, and he didn’t quite pull it off. Maybe it was a lack of experience or confidence, or maybe it was just too over the top. But there was potential in those pictures. With coaching and practice, I was confident that he could be the sex-kitten he was attempting to emulate.

I flipped through a hundred or more jpegs and then took a look at the text files. They were split about fifty- fifty between technical computer articles and fictional stories about transvestites and crossdressers. There were too many to skim through, so I just read the titles and figured out the idea behind most of them. Then I took a look at the html files. They were from his web site ‘Jasmine’s World’. Jasmine, I thought. I wondered if he had named himself (herself) after Jasmine at work. I looked at just enough files to pick up the address of his web site.

I plugged my laptop into my data line and dialed up his webpage. It was about his feminine side and was full of pictures, stories and links. It also had a biography page. That was the most interesting part. It was rather long and tended to ramble. I read it twice. It explained a lot. His brother’s job and travel gave Jasmine all the time she needed to pursue her hobby. He had been dressing since he was 6 years old. His mother had caught him when he was seven and told his father. His father ridiculed and teased him constantly about it. That explained a few things for me. No wonder his dad was such a jerk.

He only dressed at home and had never been out in public. He was very active in chat rooms and liked to hear about other girl’s episodes out in the real world. Someday he hoped to feel pretty and confident enough to venture out. Maybe someday he could make it to one of the conventions that crossdressers held across the country.

Then he mentioned his friend. Me! He even used my real name, although he spelled it incorrectly; Karin. Karin worked with him and was a real nice girl. She was beautiful (blush, blush), very feminine and best of all, very nice to him. He wished he could share his secret with her and have her accept him as he was. (Well now he had.) It was his fantasy. It might become his worst nightmare I thought. I was mad that he had used my real name. What if someone from work stumbled on this site, saw Jasmine and figured out it was really Jason and then figured out that Karin was really Karen. Not likely, but I was not in a good mood and that thought stuck in my mind.

I looked through some more of his web site and decided to take a look at his message book. There were many complimentary letters about his appearance and his site. And there were a couple of vulgar comments as well. I noticed that the vulgar messages were from the last two days only. Then it dawned on me that he probably deleted those messages when he reviewed his webpage. I looked at his links page and saw tons of links to other CD personal pages, on-line shopping sites, advocacy sites and a couple of local CD clubs.

I checked the clock on top of the TV and it said 8:00 P.M. I had spent all day going through Jason’s clothes and effects and looking at his webpage. I realized I was hungry and went to the kitchen to make some pasta.

I sat at the table and leafed through one of his magazines. I couldn’t believe that the day had disappeared on me. Then I realized that I wasn’t as angry as I had been. In spite of the water leak, and that stupid Mikey, I wasn’t feeling as ornery. I was still a bit angry, and I didn’t like having my name on Jason’s webpage, but I was feeling a bit better. Then I started thinking about Jason. I liked him a little bit, but he wasn’t a man. At best, he was a little kid. At worst he was an effeminate sissy who wanted to be treated like a girl. I felt that he was nice enough person, but of little interest to me in terms of male-female relationships.

To this day, I can’t figure out how I came to my next decision. I think it was a combination of being mad at Mikey in particular and men in general. It probably had a little to do with Jason using my name, and it probably had a lot to do with how I felt about Jason as a person and how I saw him in relation to me. Especially in his social relationship to me; I saw him as nice but inferior. I was older, had more education and a better job, better social skills and more friends, although neither one of us had that many friends. And I also felt a little sorry for him. His parents had totally destroyed his confidence and self-esteem.

I had decided to toy and tease Jason. I would give him some of what he wanted, in that I would help him enjoy his feminine wishes. But I was going to be a bit cruel about it. I was going to control him and make him do what I wanted. I was going to humiliate him a bit and titillate him a bit. I wasn’t sure how it would play out, but I knew how it was going to start. I went into my closet and found a small shopping bag from Victoria’s Secret. It had a square bottom and two looped handles on top. I went into Jason’s room and pulled open his panty drawer. I found a nice pair of high-cut, cotton panties and dropped them in the bag. I wrote a little note and dropped it in the bag, and then set the bag next to my briefcase, so that I wouldn’t forget it Monday morning.

Monday morning I arrived at the office earlier than normal. I went to Jason’s desk and put the bag in his lower desk drawer. Then I took a sticky note and wrote, ‘There is a little gift for you in your bottom desk drawer.’ I left the note on top of his desk. I went to my desk and began preparing for the day, but I was listening for Jason. He was usually the second person to arrive each morning.

About ten minutes later I heard Jason arrive and go to his desk. He saw the note on his desk and he opened his bottom desk drawer and took out the Victoria’s Secret bag and read the note. The note was written on my best stationary and said:

A pair of pretty panties for a pretty Jasmine.

Put the panties on and put your old panties in the bag.

Then come to my office and model them for me.

I would have loved to have seen his face when he read the note. I leaned back in my chair and waited to see what happened. It was about 5 minutes later that he came to my office. I heard a little tap on the door and looked up. His face was pure white. Every bit of blood had drained out and he looked like a ghost. "Hi Jason. How ya’ doing today?"

"Ok," he answered quietly. "I … ahh … found these in my desk. I think you meant to put them in Jasmine’s desk."

"Oh no," I said with a big smile. "I put them in the correct Jasmine’s desk. Did you read the note?"

"Ahhh … yea."

"Well then you know what to do. I’ll wait here for you to return. Go." He hesitated and I repeated, "Go, before the others begin to arrive." He slowly turned and walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot I began giggling. This was fun.

He returned about 5 minutes later and he was holding the bag. "Bring the bag over here," I instructed. He brought the bag and handed it to me. I set it on my desk and looked in the bag. I saw his under shorts in the bag. "Good job," I complimented him. I took the shorts out and held them up for us both to look at. "Boxers. I would have taken you for a briefs man, Jason. Oh well. Go close the door, would you please?" I asked sweetly. Jason did as he was told. "Just a sec," and I took the bag with his shorts and put them in my bottom desk drawer. "Ok, show me your panties. I want to see how they look on you."

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"You heard me honey. Drop your trousers and show me your panties," I repeated with more authority.

"But … but this isn’t right," he protested.

"I don’t care if you think its right or not sweetie, do it!" He slowly unbuckled his pants , unzipped them and then unfastened the button. He stood there holding his pants up with his hands. "Go ahead," I urged. "Let’s see."

He let his trousers slide down to his knees. I could see that he was trembling and his knees were shaking ever so perceptibly. His shirttail was rather long and was covering his panties. "Hold up your shirt so I can see your panties," I said. He lifted his shirt. I could see the panties fit nicely. I half expected to see an erection, but instead I saw nothing. He had tucked his penis between his legs.

I gave Jason a big smile. "They look very nice on you. And you look so smooth, with no unsightly bulges. Thanks for modeling them for me. You can pull your pants back up now."

He pulled his pants back up, fastened them and tucked his shirt tail back in. "Why don’t you open the door before anyone notices that we have it closed," I told him. He opened the door and took a quick look outside. "Anybody else here yet?"

"No."

"Good, then I have one more favor to ask you. Can you show me how to take this picture and make it background?" I pointed to my computer.

Without saying a word, he dutifully walked over to my side of the desk, looked at my computer screen and gasped. "Where did you get this?"

"Oh, I think you know," I teased. "Now I know I can make this into my background, but I don’t remember exactly how. I think I need to do a right hand click or something?"

"You can’t put this picture on your screen," he whined. "Somebody might see it."

"Jason, nobody will see it. The only other person besides me that ever sees this computer is you. And even if someone did accidentally see it, they wouldn’t know who it is. They would just think it was another pretty girl. Now, what do I do?"

He bent over my keyboard and started making the proper adjustments. I reached behind him and ran my hand over his bottom. I could feel the elastic in the panties as I ran my hand over them. "They fit you so well, Jason. Better than I imagined."

He quickly finished his adjustments, then stood up and stepped away from me. "There, it’s now your background. Is there anything else you need?" he asked coldly.

"No, I think that will be fine for now. Thanks Jason, you can go." As he walked out the door I watched his rear end to see if there was any swish. When he left I broke into the biggest grin and I had to fight myself to keep from laughing out loud. That had been more fun than I thought it would be. I enjoyed being in that position of power. I wished I could have done something like that to Mikey, but since I couldn’t, Jason was going to have to be his surrogate.

I smiled through the entire morning as I was working. At lunch, the real Jasmine poked her head in my office and announced the time. The usual 4 of us walked down to the cafeteria and picked up our food. We sat down and shared some small talk about the weekend, and then Jasmine hit me with the bombshell, "How was your date with Mikey?"

I wasn’t aware that she knew about the date, but I said, "It went ok. We had a nice dinner."

"Did you have a nice time afterwards?"

I was puzzled as to just exactly what she meant. "We had a nice time in the lounge."

"I mean later than that."

"What exactly do you mean?" I asked. I was becoming nervous as to where she thought she was going with this conversation. It was none of her business.

"According to Mikey, he spent the evening and the two of got to know each other much more intimately."

My heart skipped a beat and I could feel my face flush and turn warm. I immediately went on the defensive. "Who told you that?" I demanded.

"It seems that Mikey told several people that. I heard it from Janice in sales."

"Well I’m different than Mikey. I don’t talk about my personal life or spread stupid gossip." I was pissed off and ready to kill. I was mad at Mikey for being such an ass-hole, and I was even madder at Jasmine for throwing my indiscretion in my face. I finished my meal and excused myself. The other three girls gave me a smirk as I left the table.

I stomped back to my office and slammed the door shut. I threw myself into my chair and started to cry. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t been at this stupid company for more than a couple of weeks and my reputation was destroyed. I would have killed that Mikey right then and there. In fact, I had a couple of fantasies on how I might kill the son-of-a bitch.

It took almost 15 minutes before I could pull myself back together. I dried my tears and gathered my composure. I opened my office door and returned to my desk. I stared at the girl on my computer screen. Oh how I wished that that picture was Mikey and not Jason. Jason was going to suffer because of my anger at Mikey. I knew it wasn’t right and I couldn’t help myself. The only thing that saved Jason was the fact that he was such a nice kid. A wimp, but a nice kid. In the end, he did temper my anger but I was still going to go ahead with some of my thoughts and emotions.

Jason usually picked me up around 2:30 to go get a soft drink. But 2:30 came and went, and Jason was nowhere in sight. So I went and got him. I walked over to Jason’s desk and said, "Jason, let’s go get a drink."

"No, I’m not thirsty."

"Sure you are, come on and take a break."

"No really, I don’t think so."

"Yes I insist," I said in a low forceful voice. Then I changed to a louder and more cheerful tone, "I’m buying. Let’s go."

He reluctantly stood up and followed me out the door. When we were alone in the hall he turned to me said, "How could you? I trusted you."

"You can trust me," I replied.

"How can I do that? You obviously went through my things," he accused.

"Jason dear, I had no choice. There was a little accident."

"What do you mean an accident? What happened?"

"The people in the apartment upstairs let their sink overflow. The water ran through the ceiling and into my apartment. It got some of your boxes wet. I was worried that the water was going to damage something, so I had to open the boxes. I mean, I had no idea what was in the boxes and you never told me not to open them. But don’t worry, there was no permanent damage to anything. I had to dry out some of you panties and things, but they’ll be fine."

"How many boxes?"

"A few."

"Did you go through all of them?"

"Well that’s a funny thing," I smiled. "Once I started going through the damaged boxes, I figured that I might as well hang up and put away some of the clothes that I found. And since I had already started, I decided that I might as well put everything away. It’s much better for your clothes if they’re properly folded and hung up."

"So you went through all of my personal items?" Again he was very upset.

I decided to change the subject a bit. "Did you know that we wear the same size?" I asked. "You have some really pretty clothes, you know. Do you mind if I borrow some now and then?"

He squeezed his lips tightly together and said nothing. We had reached the vending machines and I dropped a few quarters in the pop machine, "Help your self," I said. He pushed the diet coke button. I slid in another couple of coins and retrieved a coke for myself.

‘So why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what?" I asked innocently.

"You know damn well what," he said through clenched teeth.

"Because I can," I answered.

"So what else are you going to do?"

"I’m not sure yet," I answered honestly.

"Are you going to tell other people?"

"No." And then I thought for a couple of moments. "I don’t think so. At least not now. I guess it depends."

His eyes were wide open and showing panic. "Depends on what?"

"On you, dear."

"Me?"

"Yea. It depends on whether or not you want me to tell someone."

"No! I don’t want you to totally ruin my life. Is that clear enough?"

He had said that too forcefully for my current attitude and anger level. Not anger at Jason, but anger at the world. "And it depends on how well you behave and listen to me."

He just looked at me and then turned away. I gave him a couple of seconds to collect his thoughts, then I walked around in front of him. I softened my voice. "Jason, don’t worry. You may actually enjoy some of this." I gave him a little smile. He did not return the smile. "Shall we return to work?"

The rest of the day was difficult. I tried to work, but my mind kept drifting over to murder and torture. I wished there was some way that I could hurt Mikey as much as he had hurt me. I knew that my thinking was wrong. But I felt so stupid and vulnerable. I finished up early, about 6:00, and I packed up my briefcase, took the Victoria’s Secret bag from my desk and went to my car.

I drove home and pulled into the underground parking garage. I walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. While waiting for the elevator, I noticed that there was a trashcan sitting beside the elevator. I reached into my bag, took out Jason’s underwear and dropped them in the can.

CHAPTER FIVE

On Tuesday morning I put the Victoria’s Secret bag back in Jason’s desk drawer. I left a note on his desk instructing him to follow yesterday’s procedure. I heard him arrive around 7:15 and he came into my office about 10 minutes later. He was holding the bag in his hand.

"Close the door and bring me the bag," I instructed. He handed me the bag and I looked inside. "Very good. Now show me your new panties." He dropped his trousers and they slid down to his knees. "Lift up your shirt tail. Now turn around for me, honey." He struggled to turn around with his pants arranged around his ankles. "Those look really pretty on you. You have a gorgeous tush honey. What do you think? Do you like these better than the ones you wore yesterday?"

He shrugged his shoulders. I raised my voice a bit, "Oh come on Jason. This is fun. Enjoy it. I’m not hurting you. I’m sure that you have an opinion. Which ones do you like the best?"

"These are fine," he grudgingly said.

"Good. I’m glad you like them. Now pull up your pants and come over here. I want to show you today’s background picture." He pulled his pants up and walked over. "What do you think?" I had displayed a nice picture of him wearing a cashmere sweater with a short skirt. He had on his blonde wig. "It’s a nice ensemble and you make it look very good, Jasmine. But just a bit of advice; the color of that sweater is a bit bold so your lipstick should be less bold. They end up fighting against each other for attention. You see what I mean?"

"I guess."

"Good, and I would recommend suntan hose rather than the dark blue tights that you’re wearing. Don’t try to throw too much color together. I really like that sweater though. Do you like it?"

A shoulder shrug from Jason.

"Its cashmere and I love cashmere. Its so soft and sensuous, isn’t it." Jason didn’t answer. "Jasmine honey, I’m only trying to help you here. Do you like the cashmere sweater or don’t you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Well that’s all. You can return to your desk."

"What are you going to do with the picture that you had on yesterday?"

"Nothing. I plan on putting up a new picture each day. Why?"

"Would you please delete the old picture then? I really don’t want someone else to stumble upon it in the future."

I thought about it for a second. "Sure, dear. That’s a very reasonable request. How do I do it?"

Jason bent over my computer and showed me how. I patted him on his tush and said, "Thanks. You can go now." After Jason left, I reloaded the picture and opened a new directory called Govt. I put the picture in that directory.

Jasmine stopped by to pick me up for lunch but I was in no mood to be ridiculed. Or at least I didn’t want to take a chance of being put in that position again today. I told her that I had to finish a report for my boss, and I was going to work through lunch. I told her, "Don’t forget me tomorrow though. Ok?"

At 2:30 I knew that Jason wasn’t going to come get me for our break, so I went and picked him up. "I’m buying I announced." He dutifully stood up and followed me down the hall. "So where did Jasmine come from?" I asked. "Did you name your self after our other Jasmine?"

"No. I named my alter ego Jasmine many years ago. Working with another Jasmine is just a coincidence."

"I like the name," I said with sincerity. "Its pretty and feminine. Actually, I prefer multi-syllabic names. Do you have a middle name also?"

"James."

"That’s not what I meant. And what do you use for a last name?"

"I’ve never used either a middle or last name. I always wanted to be known by a single name."

"Like Cher?"

"Maybe."

We reached the vending machines and I bought him his diet coke. "So when did you start dressing?"

"Did you go to my web site? Its in my biography."

"I read your biography. You mentioned the first time that you got caught, but you didn’t say when you really got into it. And oh, by the way, I read the part about your dad. Do you remember when I helped you move your stuff to my house? When we were driving back to my apartment after lunch?"

"Yea."

"I said you dad was an ass-hole. In retrospect … I really meant it." I gave him a little smile. He returned the smile. At least a little smile. The corners of his mouth gave him away just the slightest. "So when did you get serious?"

"I was always serious. I knew when I was really young that I wanted to wear girl’s clothes and play with the girls. But I didn’t really get the chance until mom and dad moved up north and left my brother and me on our own. That is when I started actually buying clothes and things."

"And when your brother was off traveling, you had the opportunity to dress up?"

"Yea, but that was after he graduated and got a job. Before that when he was still in school, it was a little more difficult. I had to be careful that he didn’t come home unexpectedly and catch me."

"Did you have many opportunities back then?"

"Actually I did. After mom and dad were out of the way, he pretty much did what he wanted. He stayed over at a friend’s about half the time. So I took advantage of those opportunities."

"So why do you do it?"

"I don’t really know. I just know that I have wanted to do it ever since I can remember. It’s not something you just decide to do one day. You’re born with it. It’s hard-wired into you. I just know I really like it, and I would be horrified if anyone else found out." He looked at me, almost pleading with his eyes.

"Well, let’s hope there is no reason for that to happen," I told him. We had reached the security door into the law department. "Jason, I have one more question that I would like to ask you. Are you gay?"

"No!" he said adamantly. "I’m 100% heterosexual."

‘Except that you just don’t get many chances to practice it,’ I thought to myself.

We returned to the office and our work. That night I threw his second pair of underwear away.

On Wednesday I put a pair of pink bikini panties with a little bow in front, in the bag and put it in his desk. I didn’t leave a note on his desk though. I heard him come into the office and I waited for about ten minutes, but he didn’t show up. So I called his extension, "Jason, where are you?" I asked.

"I’m sitting right here at my desk."

"You didn’t put your panties on and come show them to me."

"What panties?"

"Jason sweetie, I’m not going to play this game with you. I didn’t leave a note on your desk because I thought you were bright enough to understand the routine. You know there is a pretty bag waiting for you in your lower desk drawer. There will be a pretty bag waiting for you everyday from now on. So quit stalling and come model them for me, and I’ll show you today’s picture. Chop, chop, sweetie," and I hung up.

Five minutes later Jason showed up with his little bag. I didn’t have to say a word when he arrived. He closed the door behind him and then handed me the bag. I didn’t even look in it. I quickly placed it in my desk drawer and waited for him to drop his trousers. Again he had tucked in his penis and the front of his crotch was very smooth. I complimented him on his look. "I really like the way you present yourself, honey. You look so smooth and sleek in front. Now spin around and let me see your cute tush." He spun around and then returned to face me. "You have just a darling rear end. I could bite it," I said with a clear grin.

"So which is your favorite so far? The high cut hip style or the bikini style?"

"They’re both about the same."

"No they’re not. Every girl has a preference. What’s yours?"

"The high cut style, I guess."

"I like you in the bikini cut, myself. We’ll let you wear both styles. That way we both are happy. So come see what I’ve posted today."

He walked over and stood behind my chair while I showed him the computer screen. I had posted a picture of Jasmine in a short dress with a low cut bodice. It was a pretty floral print. She was wearing stockings and 3-inch heels. Today she was a red-head.

"Do you like this picture?"

"Not particularly."

"Why not?"

"I don’t know. I don’t think I look enough like a girl."

"Oh sure you do. Your figure is especially nice. What are you wearing underneath?"

"I wore a corset laced really tight."

"It did a good job. It pulled your waist in and made your hips more prominent. And what did you do for boobs. They look very real."

"I have a pair of breast forms. Size 34B."

"They look good. Your figure is really nice in this picture. But can I make a couple of suggestions?" I looked at him, but he said nothing. "I’ll take that as a yes. The skirt on your dress is clinging to your stockings. Either wear a short slip underneath, or get yourself a can of anti-static spray. Either will allow the dress lo lay smoother. Second, if you’re going to show that much cleavage, wear a necklace that drapes a little low. Some girls take a pendant necklace and lay it just above or just in the cleavage. As it is, you have too much skin without something to pull the eye away. Understand?"

Jason shook his head yes.

"I didn’t hear you. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

"Yes."

"Good. And finally, never use blue eyeshadow. Unless you’re trying to be campy or look like a drag queen, blue almost never works. Stay with earth tones, smoky gray for evenings and if you really want some more color, go with lavender or even pink. Ok?"

"Yes."

"Good. Is there anything else?"

"Did you erase yesterday’s picture."

"I sure did sweetie. Ok?"

"Yea."

"Well then, back to work." I watched him walk out and again I didn’t notice any swish. Jasmine was obviously making that up. But a thought ran through my mind — he might look nice with a swish. I chuckled and went to work.

I worked through the morning and had lunch with the girls. I think they got my message from yesterday, because no one brought up Mikey. At one point Jason walked by the table and never said a word. Terri noticed the lack of civility. "No hello from Jason? He must be getting stuck up."

"Maybe that’s his problem," Jasmine said. "Maybe he got something stuck up his ass last night." The other girls started laughing.

"He did look like he was walking a little lopsided today." They never passed up an opportunity to poke fun at him.

At 2:30 I went over to Jason’s desk and asked him to go to the vending machines. "You know Jason, you used to come to my office and pick me up for our afternoon break. Why don’t you come get me anymore?" I was teasing him and he didn’t like it.

"I’m very busy."

"Well starting tomorrow, I want you to start picking me up again. No more sulking. I know you’re mad at me, but you’ll get over it. And the sooner the better. We’re still friends, right?"

He didn’t say anything.

"Jason, honey. Neither one of us has any friends at this place. We’re all we each have. We have to stick together."

"Except for the girls that you eat lunch with and Mikey."

I tried to ignore the Mikey reference. "That’s a bit different, Jason. Girl’s usually have lunch together, and the two of us can’t eat together."

"And why not?"

"Because of office politics and gossip. The first thing you know, people will see us together and think something is going on. It’s inevitable. Then after the rumors fly all over the company, HR will step in and move one or the other of us to a different department, because they can’t have us working together. That’s the way it is in big companies. You know that."

"And what about Mikey?"

I stiffened at that name. "What about Mikey?"

"Aren’t you and Mikey an item?"

"Not anymore. You don’t have to worry about Mikey. He never was and never will be my friend. And that assumes that I don’t murder him!"

"Then the stories are true, aren’t they?"

"I don’t know what stories you’re referring to and I don’t care to know. Subject closed."

We reached the vending machines and he stepped in front of me. "Let me buy you a coke today. I think you need it more than I do." He grinned ever so slightly. I was pleased. The rest of the afternoon passed in typical routine.

That night after I reached my apartment, I threw away Jason’s third pair of underpants.

On Thursday I gave Jason a plain white pair of high-cut panties. He didn’t have any other colors in that style. On Friday we tried something different. I gave Jason a pair of his padded panties. They had extra padding on the derriere and gave the wearer a plumper, more feminine look. Jason came into my office and handed me the little bag with his male underpants in it. As usual, I had him drop his trousers so I could see that he was wearing his panties du jour. They did plump up his tush. "Pull your pants up, sweetie. I want to see what you look like from behind."

He pulled up his dockers and fastened his belt. His dockers were a bit larger and more baggy than I had been expecting. When he turned around I could barely notice that he was wearing any padding. I was disappointed. I had him come over to my desk and I showed him the daily picture. Jasmine was wearing a pantsuit with piping around the cuffs and neck. It wasn’t very becoming and I pointed out why. Jasmine was a bit disappointed but understood my critique. She was a very attentive learner. When I was finished, Jason again asked if I had deleted yesterday’s picture. "No, why don’t you handle that from now on, ok?"

Jason leaned over the keypad and began looking for the picture. When he bent forward the rear of his trousers pulled tight, and I could see the extra padding from his new panties. They gave him a much fuller, and feminine buttom. I was pleased. When he left I reloaded the picture.

For some reason Jasmine never stopped by to ask me out Friday night. Lunch was typical. We insulted Linda behind her back. We ripped apart two other secretaries who had obviously dressed for Friday night hunting, and of course we threw a few comments in Jason’s direction. No one noticed Jason’s enhanced derriere and I was a little disappointed. Maybe next time, I thought.

At 2:30 Jason came to my office and asked me to join him for a walk down to the vending machines. "Thank you Jason, I would be happy to join you." When we reached the hall I took a quick look around to make no one was watching, then I reached down and grabbed Jason’s ass. He jumped and quickly stepped away from me.

"Don’t do that," he hissed at me.

"Why not, my cute sweetie? You have a great ass."

"Because some one might see, that’s why."

"So?"

"So I’d have to charge you with sexual harassment." He gave me an ever so slight grin. I grinned also.

"I have a new word for you today. Callipygian. Have you ever heard it?"

"No."

"To be blunt, it means cute ass. And that’s what you have and what you are. Callipygian. I think that would be a good middle name for you. Cally. What do you think?"

"I think you made it up."

"Not a chance," I said. "I’ll bet you its real."

"Ok, you’re on. There is no way in the world it’s real. What’s the bet for?"

"Winner decides?"

That stopped him for a moment. That was a real bet and he knew it. And I knew, or I was pretty sure, what his choice would be. I knew it was churning through his mind. "Ok, but it has to be in the dictionary."

I held out my hand. "Then it’s a bet. Now all I have to do is decide what I want. Hmmm … " I knew it was real word and I had already decided what my claim would be. And we would have done it no matter what.

We returned to the office and went to his desk. He took out a dictionary and opened it to the Cs. "How do you spell it?"

I smiled. I knew he would never find it in an abridged dictionary. I spelled it out. "Ah ha! It’s not here. I win," he gloated.

"Not so fast Kreskin. Let’s go look at a real dictionary." The office had an unabridged dictionary back in the documents area. I led him back to the documents area and looked around to see if any one else was there. The place was empty. I opened the dictionary and quickly found callipygian. The smile on his face dropped to his shoes. "Well there you have it sweetie." I reached down and squeezed his ass. "Dinner. Tomorrow tonight. My apartment at 6:30. Don’t be late." I pursed my lips and blew him a kiss. Damn I was good!

I spent the day cleaning the apartment and shopping. I wanted to put on a nice dinner for Jason. This was going to be an awesome evening. I was thrilled with my devious thinking. Not only did I know that I was going to enjoy this, but I was pretty sure Jason was going to be ecstatic. Only, he would never admit it.

At 6:39 the doorbell rang. I strolled over in my designer jeans and cashmere sweater and opened the door. "Hello Jason," I said seductively. "Welcome to my web." I gave him a bewitching smile.

"Ahhh … hi." I already had him back on his heels. I pulled him into the room and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"What have you brought me?"

"Ahhh … wine," he said in a rather stunned voice.

"Wonderful. Red. Are you a wine connoisseur?"

"No."

"Neither am I. Red is supposed to be served at room temperature, but I prefer my wine cold. Do you mind if I put it in the freezer?"

"Ok." Jason was so assertive and decisive … not. I smiled at that thought. I led him into the kitchen.

"Would you mind giving me a hand? Do you like pasta?" I didn’t give him a chance to answer. "Here put this on," and I held out an apron for him. He put his arms through the straps and I walked behind him and tied the straps. It was frilly pink apron and looked very feminine. I grabbed another apron, yellow, and put it on. "Would you mind straining the pasta please, I want to work on the sauce a bit longer."

"What do I do?"

"Take the pot over to the sink and pour it into the strainer. That will eliminate the water. Then take the pasta out of the strainer and put it back in the pot and place it on the stove." He followed my instructions. "Now come over here and stir this sauce. I have some garlic bread in the oven and I want to check on it." Again he did as he was told.

I continued to give him his instructions and he followed them as much as he could. Finally I told him, "Go to the freezer and get out your wine. There are two chilled wine glasses in there also. I told you I like my wine chilled. There is a corkscrew on the counter over there. Fill the glasses and bring them to the table."

"How did you know that I was going to bring wine?"

"Because I own you, Jason. Simple as that. Now shall we eat?"

We both sat down and I filled his plate with pasta then handed him the garlic bread. "Do you like pasta?"

"No."

"Good, enjoy. How about wine? Do you like wine?"

"No."

"Good. Prost!" and I made him clink glasses. We ate in silence for a few minutes. "So Jason, how was your week?" I asked innocently. He stared at me. "I’m making conversation. You have to talk Jason. Otherwise your food fills up your belly and causes you to barf it out later."

"Good. That should be fun to watch."

I laughed. "You do know how to charm a girl." He actually smiled a bit also. "How was your week? Be honest now."

He was silent. I could tell he was thinking of an answer and I allowed him some time. "I was scared."

"That’s nice. What else?"

"I lost my trust in someone that I liked."

"That’s nice. What else?"

"I felt belittled and trashed like never before."

"That part’s a lie. No one has ever treated you as badly as your father. And truth be known, you liked parts of what you did this week. Admit it."

"No I didn’t. I’ve never felt so trapped, so scared and so intimidated in my life."

"Most of that is true. But it doesn’t alter the fact that you liked it. Somewhere deep inside your gut, you liked it. Admit it."

"I did not and no matter how much you try and salve your conscience, it isn’t true. You treated me like a piece of chattel and you’re the one that liked it. Not me."

"You know sweetie, you might be right." I took another bite of pasta and smile at him. "Do you really hate pasta?"

"To be honest …"

"We can be honest," I said.

"No, pasta is not one of my favorites."

"That’s nice. Have some more," and I threw another large scoop on his plate.

He looked me in the eye. "What is it with you? Why are you doing this? What do you want from me? Are you trying to crush me? Destroy me? Why?"

I could see a tear in the corner of his eye. I had a momentary pang of guilt, but it quickly passed. I knew he liked this and wanted this, whether he knew it or not, and whether he would admit it or not. "Why? I told you why Jason. Because I can." I gave him a sinister smile. I could see him cringe ever so slightly.

"Finish your pasta. We have sherbet for dessert."

The rest of the meal’s conversation was confined to meaningless etiquette. As the meal came to an end I asked, "How was it?"

"I’ve had worse."

"Well thank you. I will take that as a compliment. Would you like anything else?’

"Maybe just a wee bit of wine."

"Oh, I’m sorry Jason. No more alcohol now. We have a big night ahead of us, and I don’t want you getting tired too early."

His head jerked up, he looked me in the eye and his head listed ever so slightly to his right. "What do you mean a big night?" he asked suspiciously.

"Were going out to a club, Jasmine."

I could see the breath rush out of his lungs. "What do you mean we’re going to a club?"

"Well," I began with a big breath, "as I understand it, Jasmine has never gone out in public. Am I right?"

"No. I’m not going out."

"Sure you are Jasmine. We’re going out to a great club called Glitter. I used to go there all the time with my old roommate. It’s a gay bar." His eyebrows popped up. "She was a lesbian and loved the place. And on Saturday nights they have a drag show at midnight. Has Jasmine ever seen a drag show?" No answer. "Jasmine? Have you ever seen a drag show?"

"No."

"Trust me. This will be the most memorable night of your young life. In a way, this is a birth. A re-birth. It will be the first night out ever for Jasmine. And she will love it. Now, we have to start getting ready. How long will it take you to get made up?"

"I’m not going out in public."

I stood up, put my hands on the table and leaned across towards Jason. I used a very steady, very deliberate and very forceful voice, "Yes you will dress up and yes you will go out with me. You have no choice in this matter. It is what I want, and it is what you want. Now quit being a pain in the ass and answer me, how long will it take you to get ready?"

"Probably an hour or two. I have to shave, put on my makeup … probably an hour for all of that, then dressing ..."

"Ok, then let’s get started. We can forget about the dishes tonight. I’ll stack them in the sink and you go clean up." He looked at me. "Go! Now!"

"I don’t have anything," he said exasperated.

"Calm down. Everything that you need is in the spare bedroom. I put away all of your things. Take a look around and you will find everything that you need. Now, take a deep breath, relax and go. Trust me, you will have a wonderful time. Its what you’ve always wanted. Stop denying it, grasp the opportunity, thank me and go!"

He went, but he didn’t thank me. He would. I was pretty sure of that. Maybe not tonight, but someday. I could wait. And in the meantime, I was going to enjoy the opportunity that had dropped into my lap.

I stacked the dishes in the sink, then went and got ready. I brushed my hair and gave it a quick spritz of hair spray. I sat down in front of my vanity and applied a light coat of foundation, and brushed on some blush to hi-lite my cheekbones. I brushed out my eyebrows with a light brown color, applied eye shadow and fluffed my eyelashes with a dark brown mascara. I outlined my lips and then filled them in with a cranberry colored lipstick. I switched from studs to drop earrings, put on a gold necklace and some dangling bracelets. A nice fashionable, but casual look. I was ready. I went to check on Jason.

He was still in the bathroom. I knocked on the door, "How you doing in there?"

"Fine."

"You presentable?"

"No.

"Good, I’m coming in." I gave him just a moment to shout no, and he didn’t say a word, so I walked in. He was sitting on the toilet, naked except for his padded panties. His face was covered with 5 or 6 blood stained bits of toilet paper. He looked hilarious. I couldn’t help my self and I started laughing. I started laughing hilariously. I fell backwards against the wall and slowly slid to the floor, laughing at the top of my lungs. He stared at me, his eyes glistening from tears. "Are you the same Jason as the one in Friday the Thirteenth?"

That broke him loose. I’ve never seen anyone laugh and cry at the same time. He grabbed another handful of toilet paper and wiped his eyes. "I can’t do anything right," he sobbed. "I wanted to shave extra close, and look what I did." He started sobbing again. "I can’t even be a failure without failing."

That got my attention. I quit laughing and stood up. "Come here," I said. "Pull that toilet paper off your face." I turned on the cold water and let it run until it was good and cold. I filled up the sink and handed Jason a washcloth. "Come over here and soak your face with cold water. That will stop the bleeding and prevent any scabs from forming. Get to it," I instructed him. I stepped back and continued to encourage him. It took a full fifteen minutes before the bleeding was fully stopped.

"See? The cold water even reduces the localized swelling from the cuts. Now, what do you need to do next?"

"Brush my teeth and apply some anti-perspirant."

"Ok, get to it."

He started to loose his composure again, "I don’t have any."

"Yes you do," I quickly said. "Come on," and I led him into the spare bedroom. "All of your stuff is here," and I gave him a quick tour as to where I had put everything. "Here’s your toiletries. Go brush your teeth and then come back here."

He returned in a few minutes. "Ok, now what do you do?" I asked.

"Usually I put on my under garments," he sniffed.

"Fine, then let’s do that. I’ll help. What do you want first?"

"My corset."

I knew exactly where it was. I went to his dresser and took it out. "How do you put it on?"

He put it around his waist and hooked the eyelets in the front. "Can you pull it tight in the back?"

"How? Where?" I asked.

"Grab the laces in the middle and pull them as tight as you can." I did as I was told. "Tighter," he said. I pulled as tight as I could. "Tie it in a knot, otherwise it might come loose."

I tied a knot. "Ok, now what?"

"My bra and breast forms." I showed him the correct drawer for his bras. I had left his breast forms in their molded boxes and had placed them up in the closet. I took them from the shelf and set them on his dresser. He picked out a white, underwire bra and expertly slipped it on and fastened it behind his back. He took the breast forms and squeezed them into his bra. He pushed them around for a minute until he was satisfied with their placement.

"Looking nice," I told him. "Now what?"

"Nylons."

I showed him the correct drawer. He had tons of nylons. He took out some knee highs and sat down on the bed. "Wait," I interrupted. "You can’t wear those. I want you to wear a skirt."

"I can’t," he protested, "I have hairy legs. And besides, you’re wearing jeans."

Yes, his legs were hairy. "Well, what did you do in your pictures?"

"I wore dancer’s tights."

"Ok, wear dancer tights."

"That won’t work. They look ok in pictures, but in the real world they look fake and hokey. It won’t work," Jason complained.

I had a flash of inspiration, but it would have to wait until another time. "Ok, maybe jeans would be better for your first night out. They do eliminate a lot of problems." Jason had to really struggle to get the stockings on. The corset made it extremely difficult for him to bend over and reach his feet.

"Now I need a camisole." I picked out a very attractive, pink camisole that was covered with lace and handed it to him.

"Next?"

"Make-up."

"Ok, everything is over here. Wait," and I went and picked up a shoebox. "Pick out what you want and place it in here." He went through the thousands of bottles and tubes and cosmetics that he owned and picked out the necessary ones. He placed them in the box. "Ok, follow me. We can use the vanity in my room."

I led him into my bedroom and sat him in front of the vanity mirror. "Let me help," I offered. "Where do you usually start?"

He handed me a small container labeled ‘beard-cover’. "The first thing I do is take a sponge and use this to cover my beard"

"Ok, let me do it." I used the sponge to wipe the heavy goo over his beard. "It would be better if you got electrolysis and got rid of this beard," I joked. Another inspirational idea popped into my head. I filed it for future use. "Now what?"

"I use translucent powder, just a bit to set the beard cover."

"No problem," and I took a brush and applied a light coat of powder. "Next?"

"Now I usually apply regular foundation over my entire face and neck."

Man, we were starting to apply a lot of makeup. There has to be a better way I thought. I took a fresh sponge and applied the foundation over his face and down over his neck. "How’s that look?" I asked.

"That’s nice. Next, another light dusting of powder to set it." That took me just a minute or two. "Now I usually apply some blush."

"Ok, were going to change the routine a bit. The blush you use is way too dark. It might work on a model with high cheekbones, but it isn’t for you. You need something lighter. Give me a sec. and I’ll be right back." I went back to his room and searched through his collection of cosmetics. I found a lighter, pinker color and returned to Jason. I brushed it lightly over his cheeks and blended it up towards his hairline. "Watch what I’m doing here. I think this will work better for you and your complexion."

"I think that looks better than what you usually do," I said. "What do you think? Is it ok?"

"Yea, I guess its ok."

"Good. Now what?"

"Next, I do my eye brows."

"Your eyes. Great. First things first. Wait here just a minute." I went to the bathroom and located my tweezers. I sat sown in front of Jason and told him, "I’m going to clean up your brows."

"No," he yelled. "You can’t pluck my eye brows."

"Yes I can, and yes I will. Quit panicking every time I do something. I’m going to clean them up, pluck a few stragglers and even them out. It won’t kill you, so sit there and be quiet."

"But …"

"But nothing," I said. "I’m not going to going to arch them and make them look real femmy." And then my third inspiration of the night hit. I’d have his eyebrows waxed at a salon later. I was a genius!

After plucking his brows, I took his brow pencil and colored in a nice clean line. Then I took his eyelid sealer and applied a first coat over his eyelids. After it set for a moment I brushed on a light pink shadow, spreading it up high under his brows. I wanted to give him a bright-eyed innocent look. I put a light lavender over his lower lids, and then used a tiny bit of gray through the crease.

Next I found a light brown eyeliner and outlined his eyes. I didn’t take it all the way to the inside corner of his eyes. I wanted to try and pull the look to his outer eye. I smudged the eyeliner with a brush and gave his eyes a nice soft look. I handed him his lash curler and told him that he had to curl his own lashes. When he finished, I applied two coats of dark brown mascara for him. I finished by taking a lash brush and combing out the lumps and blobs. His eyes looked nice, not perfect, but passable for his first night out.

"Ok, lips. Right?"

"Yes," he said.

"Before I show you how to apply lipstick, what are you going to wear?"

"I don’t know. Can you help me decide?"

"Sure, let’s take a look at that extensive wardrobe of yours." First I helped him pick out a tight pair of stone washed jeans. "Let’s give you a top that hangs out and is nice and long. You don’t want something so short that when you bend over it pulls up and exposes your cami." I found a nice silk blouse with cap sleeves and a square neckline. It was a soft powder blue color.

"Shoes," I said. "How good are you with heels?"

"Decent I think."

"Do you want to try heels?"

"I think I can."

"They will make you a lot more dressy." I found him a pair of 3-inch straps and helped him put them on. That corset really did make it tough for him to bend over. "You look good in heels," I told him. "Let’s go finish your makeup." I looked through his cosmetics until I found a lipstick color that I thought would match his top. Then I searched for a slightly darker lip liner. I found a great, although not perfect, match. It was amazing how many cosmetics he had.

I sat him on the bed and applied first the lip liner, giving him slightly larger and more pouty lips, and then the lipstick. "Here, take this Kleenex and blot your lips." I pressed a bit of powder on his lips, and then re-applied just a bit of lipstick. "There, that should last for a while. You see how I did that right?"

"Yep."

"Good. I do like that color on you. What do you have for jewelry?"

That brought my fourth inspiration for the night. He needed to have his ears pierced. I found some clip on earrings that I liked. I gave him a slim silver necklace, bracelets and some rings. He must have spent a fortune on his hobby. I couldn’t believe all of the jewelry we had to choose from. All that was left were his wigs.

One by one we tried on his wigs. First we put on his short blonde wig. It looked cute. Next we tried his long black wig. It was ok, but I wasn’t sure that black was his color. Next was his curly red wig. I liked the color, but the long collection of curls was a bit over the top, at least for tonight. Last he put on his long, straight brunette wig. I decided that it had the best chance. To be honest, none of them were quite right for him. I straightened the wig and combed down his bangs. Then I brushed out the wig and tried to get it to lay flat. It wasn’t a very expensive wig and it showed. Jason’s hair was going to be the weak part of his look. But it was the best we had.

"We’re finished sweetie. Pick out a nice perfume and spray it on your neck and wrists." He — she- did as I instructed. "Do you have a purse? I put them here in the closet." We searched through a dozen purses and picked out a nice brown purse with a long a strap. "Ok, come out into the living room and let’s take a look at the new Jasmine."

I stood off to the side of the room and watched Jasmine walk out. My first impression was very positive. She was rather small and had a nice figure with lots of curves. I thought her chest and hips were well proportioned and fit her stature well. Her hair was off just a bit, but I knew that already. I wasn’t sure if it was the color or the style, but I certainly wasn’t satisfied with the look.

Her best feature was her face. Unlike most men, she did not have an oval face. It was wider, (dare I say round?) like a good model’s face. She had a small, upturned nose that was very feminine when surrounded with made up eyes and red lips. Her cheekbones were flat, but the blush helped. The makeup gave her a very pretty face. Her face was definitely her best feature.

She claimed that she was ok in heels, but she walked like a cow. She was going to need a lot of work on walking, moving her arms and hands and reducing the amount of sway in her hips. She didn’t hold her head right either. She tended to slump her shoulders and hold her chin down. I was going to have to train the girl and make her work at it.

And then there was her voice. That would take a long time, I knew.

But for her first night out, she would be fine. We were going to a gay bar and transvestites were always accepted there, so there wouldn’t be any problem with passing. If she did fool a few people, that would be frosting on the cake.

"We’re going to walk down to the car," I told her. "But first walk across the room." She was trying to place one foot in front of the other. "Stop placing one foot in front of the other, like your trying to walk a tightrope."

"But that’s how models walk," she explained.

"Exactly. That is how models walk when they’re modeling, but that is not how normal women walk. Besides, it’s forcing your hips to sway too much. You look like you’re working the street with those hips. Now try it again. More natural."

She walked across the room a couple of times. "Better, now take shorter steps. You’re a beautiful girl basking in the attention of all the men as you walk across the room. Slow down and enjoy it." She crossed the room again, and looked a bit better. "Now hold your elbows closer to your side. Move your lower arms more and your shoulders less. Better, better. This time, look where you’re going. Hold your head up higher. You want to look those men in the eye as you glide past them. Don’t look at the floor so much."

She tried, but kept glancing at the floor. "I’m not sure that I can keep from looking at the floor. I’m not that sure of myself in these heels, and I’m afraid of stepping on something or tripping over something."

"Ok, that will take practice and confidence. Keep your purse strap over your shoulder and hold the strap with one hand. Elbows in," I reminded her. "Less hips. Small steps. Chin up."

"Blah, blah, blah," she screamed. "I can’t do all of that at once."

"You had better learn, or everyone in the world will know that you’re a man in heels! And you will NOT walk that way when you are in my company, or I will leave you behind. Try it again." I made her cross the room a couple more times, then gave up. "I guess I’ll have to take you as you are. What do you have in your purse?"

"Nothing."

"That’s not going to work is it? Let’s get you the things you’ll need. Go find your lipstick and lip liner, your facial powder and a brush, and your mascara. Do you have a small hairbrush? Put a bottle of clear nail polish in too. You’ll need your wallet, some Kleenex and a tampon."

"A tampon? What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Use your imagination," I teased. "Every girl in the world carries an emergency tampon in her purse. You will too. I’ll get one for you."

After filling her purse I asked, "Are you ready to meet the world?"

"I don’t know," she sighed.

"Well it doesn’t matter, does it? What I say goes, and I say let’s go." I led her out the door and down the hall towards the elevator. "Chin up," I reminded her. We stepped into the elevator and she slumped one hip and stood like a man. "Stand up! You stand like a man in drag. You’re a young lady, act like a lady!"

"Yes ma’am!"

"And I like that respect. You shall show me more of it."

The elevator reached the garage and I led her to the passenger side of the car. "Do you know how to sit down like a lady?"

"Yes." She turned sideways to the seat and sat down with her feet together on the pavement. Then she swung both feet together into the car. She looked up at me asked, "How did I do ma’am?"

"Not bad. But when you’re in pants, you can step into the car." I smiled at her and shut her door.

I sat down behind the wheel and placed my purse on the floor behind me. "Put your purse on the floor between your legs," I instructed. I started the car and we drove to Glitter.

Glitter Night Club is located in the gay district. On Saturday nights the entire area is a hot bed of activity. People come from all over greater Chicago to dance and be seen in the various clubs. And all of those people meant lots of cars with only a limited amount of parking spaces. We had to park 5 blocks away. Which was ok with me, because it gave Jasmine more opportunity to work on her walk.

"Chin up, shoulders back," I reminded her over and over.

We had to stop at a corner for the streetlight to turn. Jasmine turned to me and said, "I’m getting sick of all the instructions. I’m trying! You’re starting to sound like a bitch."

I gave her my most devious smile, "If you want me to be a bitch, you haven’t seen anything yet. I’ll treat you like a piece of shit. Is that the way you want it?"

She dropped her eyes and looked at her heels. "No, I’m sorry."

"You certainly are sorry, and your only chance of ever passing as anything other than a man in drag is by listening to me and doing what I tell you. Is that asking too much?"

"No."

"Good. Elbows in." As we walked the rest of the way to Glitter, I realized I was starting to like this situation. I was totally in charge. Even though I liked him, and even felt sorry for him, I had no trouble reverting to an authoritarian mode. I felt no guilt or shame at all. I was learning something about myself that I had never realized. I didn’t think that I was hurting him, and I knew that he did indeed like crossdressing. And I suspected that being forced into this position, allowed him to rationalize his doubts about wanting to look and act like a girl. The situation was cathartic for both of us.

We reached Glitter and walked in the front door. There were people all over. The bouncer stopped us as we came in. "Hi girls. Can I see some ID?" I handed him my ID, he glanced at it and gave it back. Jasmine gave him hers and he took a few extra seconds to look at. "Thanks girls. Have a great time," and he waved us in.

I didn’t have to worry about Jasmine’s walk anymore. The place was so busy that we were bounced around like balls in a pinball machine. We struggled to a stand-up table near the dance floor. We set our purses on the table and laid claim. The music was being pumped out at ear splitting level. The floor was packed and the crowd was bouncing up and down to the music. There was no way to tell who was dancing with whom.

Jasmine and I didn’t even try to talk, it would have been futile. One dance morphed into another as the DJ kept the music pounding out a rhythm. People came and people left the floor and the overall mob kept bouncing and bopping. A waitress finally came to our table and I yelled in her ear. She eventually found her way back with 4 cokes. I was thirsty, and I knew we wouldn’t see her for another half hour or more. I pushed 2 cokes over to Jasmine. She chugged her first coke like a guy. I shook my head in disgust and pulled a mirror from my purse and handed it to her. I pointed to the corners of her mouth. She had smeared her lipstick because she wasn’t careful. I handed her other coke to her and motioned for her to follow me.

We carried our drinks into the restroom and waited for a place at the vanity. The room was packed and each girl was checking her makeup and touching up imperfections. We made our way to the counter and I set down my purse and reached into hers. I took out her lip liner and a Kleenex. I carefully touched up the corners of her mouth and then re-applied her lipstick. Not another girl gave us a second look.

"Act like a lady," I told her. "Think before you act. You’re a dainty feminine flower. Be one."

A girl standing nearby said, "That’s right girl. Wow ‘em with your charms. You got ‘em."

We both laughed and gave her a thumbs up. We carried our drinks back into the noise and mayhem. We found a place by the bar and a single stool opened up. I motioned for Jasmine to sit down. I figured her heels were probably starting to tire her feet. I motioned for her to cross her legs. She didn’t look right so I took my hands and pushed her legs into their proper position.

When I used to frequent the Glitter, there was one transvestite that I thought looked reasonable, and I enjoyed talking with her. Her name was Tara. She was at the club and spotted me. "Hi, Karen," she yelled. "I haven’t seen you in awhile."

"I got a knew job and I moved across town. How have you been?"

"Great. Whose your friend?"

"Jasmine." I yelled. I introduced the two of them. They began talking and ended up talking for the rest of the night. They bought each other drinks and had an animated conversation. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but several times I saw Jasmine point at me. Sometimes they laughed and sometimes Tara gave me a disgusted shake of her head. I had an idea what they might be talking about and I smiled back.

I was watching the action around the club when I saw Gloria. I motioned to Jasmine to stay where she was and I bumped my way over to Gloria. We hugged and then I asked her to come outside with me. We got our hands stamped and went outside where it was cooler and quieter.

"Gloria, how have you been?"

"Wonderful. How’s the new job?"

"It sucks. I’m working in a pig pen. Its full of pigs."

"Welcome to the real world sister."

"Thanks. Can I ask a favor?"

"Why not?"

"I’m serious about the job. It pretty much sucks as far social life goes. All of the other lawyers are men, and not a single one will give me the time of day. There are a couple of secretaries and paralegals that eat lunch with me, and that is about the extent of my human contact. The problem is, one of the girls is hot for me. She knows I’m hetero, but she won’t give up. I’m real short on friends and I don’t want to get too blunt and chase her away."

"I get the picture. You are sexy, Karen. How can I help?"

"If I bring her here, maybe we could ‘accidentally’ meet up with you. And maybe when I’m off buying drinks or sitting in the girl’s room, you could kind of set her straight?"

"Is she cute?"

"Yea, she is very pretty."

"How old is she?"

"I think 27."

"Yea, I’ll help you out. When?"

"How ‘bout I give you call? Maybe next Friday? I’m not sure."

"I’d be glad to help out an old roomie. Especially if she brings me a live hotty. So is that what brings you back to your old roots?"

"That, and I brought a TV down here."

"Karen, you doing charity work?"

"Not quite. It’s a rather interesting situation. He’s a TV but really shy. I’ve kind of taken over and I’m forcing him along. It’s fun. He has to do what I tell him to do."

"What, are you blackmailing him?"

"In a way. I have never even thought of doing something like this, but I’m having a fun time. It’s my way to get back at all of the ass-hole men I’ve ever known."

Gloria laughed. "Sounds like fun. Can I help? Just kidding. Is he inside?"

"Yea."

"Show him to me, will ya?"

I led Gloria back inside and took her over to Jasmine. I introduced her to both Jasmine and Tara. "Hi girls," was the first and only thing I heard Gloria say. They talked for a long time and I saw them laugh several times. At one point I saw Gloria reach out and squeeze Jasmine’s boobs. Then she reached over to Tara and squeezed her boobs. A little while later she took both by the hand and led them onto the dance floor. I caught glimpses of them on and off, but they were swallowed by the pulsating crowd. I took control of the bar stool, sat down and kept an eye on purses and drinks.

I glanced at my watch and noticed that it was after midnight. Finally, I thought. That meant that we were getting close to the drag show, and the super loud music would soon come to an end. Thankfully, it only took another five minutes to finish the dancing. The girls came back, panting and sweating. Jasmines face was shining, and it looked like her triangle was getting glossy. "Tara are you going to stay for the show?"

"Absolutely!"

"Would you watch our drinks? Jasmine needs to fix her face."

"Go," she said. "I’ll be here."

I handed Jasmine her purse, took her by the arm and led her to the girls room. The crowd was starting to thin out and it was easier to get in. "Go take a pee, then I’ll fix your face. You were sweating on the dance floor and it’s blemishing your makeup."

Either she really had to pee, or she was having trouble with her zipper. It took a long time for her to resurface. The room was still crowded as I started instructing her on her makeup. I turned her towards the mirror and pointed out the spots where her sweat was thinning her makeup. I dabbed a bit of foundation on the spots and smoothed it out. Then I gave her the brush and powder and told her to brush on a thin layer of the powder. A couple of the other girls glanced over at us, but no one said a word or raised an eyebrow. As long as she was wearing lipstick she was welcome in the girl’s room. Only in a gay bar do you see what tolerance is really about, I thought.

We went back to the bar and met Tara. I ordered a beer for both of us, since it would probably be the one and only alcoholic drink for either of us. When the beer arrived I said, "Be a flower. Don’t guzzle it." Both she and Tara gave me dirty look.

The house lights dimmed and the stage lights came on. The little disco ball above the stage started rotating and jewels of light spread across the room. The hostess came out on the stage to a rousing applause. She welcomed the crowd, told a few ribald jokes, and traded a couple of insults with two guys who laughed hilariously. Then she introduced their first entertainer, a buxom beauty from Texas.

Annie Oakley came on stage wearing a frilly skirt and western shirt, boots and spurs. She began lip syncing a song that I don’t recall. It was a rompous cowboy song, and the crowd hooted and hollered and clapped along. Tara took a dollar bill from her purse and walked up and handed it to Annie. She blew Tara a kiss and kept ‘singing’. A few others took up money and each received an air kiss or a wink. Jasmine was watching with rapt attention.

Annie finished to a nice applause and ran back stage. The hostess returned and started trading ribald insults with the two guys again. Then she introduced the second entertainer. She was a tall, gorgeous beauty who could dance like a Rockette. She performed a high powered number with plenty of dancing and lip synching. She twirled, pirouetted and did the splits. She had the folks lined up around the stage waiting for her to finish so they could hand her their dollar bills.

Jasmine watched the show and was transfixed by the girls. She laughed too long and too loud. She traded whispers and laughs with Tara. She tapped her toe and clapped along with the music. But mostly, she watched with her mouth open. At one point, I reached over and tapped her under her chin to close her mouth. She gave me a quick grin and then turned back to the show.

The show lasted a little over an hour. It was late and time to go. I told her we needed to leave. She and Tara traded phone numbers and email addresses and we finally headed home. As we stepped outside, the cool air blew over us and it felt great. It was so much quieter my ears felt like there was a pressure on them, like walking into an anechoic chamber. I put my arm through Jasmine’s and we quietly walked side by side. We listened to the sounds of the city, the chatter in the distance, the sirens, the laughing outside the bars as we passed by them.

"How was your evening?" I asked.

"Ok." It was if she was shrugging off a boring time. I knew better.

"What did you give Tara?"

"My email address."

"Is that all?"

"We traded telephone numbers also."

"She was attractive," I said. Jasmine gave me a nasty look. I smiled and said, "You did seem interested in her."

"Get real."

We reached the car, and we both climbed in. I began navigating the night-time streets back to my apartment. "So did you have a nice time?"

"I guess." She was non-committal.

"Would you like to do it again?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well if your not that interested, I’ll throw out all of your clothes tomorrow. I thought you wanted to do this, but maybe I was wrong." She looked at me. "Silly me, I thought I was doing you a favor, something that you wanted."

"Ok, you win. I loved it. It’s hard admitting that to you. I don’t … I didn’t … You are just so …" It was obvious she was having a difficult time admitting her true feelings.

"What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"Frustrating, intolerable, exasperating, …"

"Thank you. You’re welcome. So admit it, you love putting on that bra and feeling the way it tightly hugs you. You love the taste of the lipstick, the smell of your perfume, the jiggle of the bracelets around your wrists, the sound of your heels clicking on the pavement and the feel of your long hair against your cheek. They really turn you on don’t they."

"Yes. They do. They always have and you know it. You have me and there is nothing I can do about it."

"Your both right and wrong. I do have you, but there is something you can do." I waited for her ‘What?’ "You can enjoy it. You can embrace it with your heart and soul. You can live. You can do what I tell you to do."

She didn’t answer. She leaned back and quietly enjoyed the ride back to my apartment. She basked in the after-glow, the adrenaline let-down of her best night ever. Back at my apartment I helped her take off her heels, and I released her from the corset. I made sure that she had a good cold cream to clean off her makeup

After she finished in the bathroom, I washed my face and prepared for bed. When I came out, she was standing in the doorway to her bedroom. She was wearing a knee length negligee with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. "You have a pretty negligee. Goodnight," and I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as I headed to my room.

I woke up at about 10:30. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and climbed out of my bed. I put on my robe and strolled out into the kitchen. The table had been cleared from last night, the dishes rinsed and placed in the dishwasher, and the stove was in the middle of making breakfast. Toast and bacon were already lying on a plate. The frying pan was sitting on the stove and the carton of eggs was sitting next to the stove.

I heard the front door close, and Jason walked in with the Sunday paper. "Mornin’ sleepy head. How do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny side over. What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast silly."

"No, I mean what are you doing dressed? Don’t you know that on Sunday mornings girls sit around in their robes, sip coffee and eat cinnamon rolls while they do the Sunday crossword puzzle?" That threw her off balance. She thought she was going to get an atta-girl and I tripped her up. Damn, I was good.

CHAPTER SIX

On Monday morning I put a pair of bikini panties and a camisole in the Victoria’s Secret bag. Shortly after arriving, Jason came to my office with the Victoria’s Secret bag and another a paper bag. He set both on my desk and then closed the door. "Good morning," he said. "I don’t want to keep my panties at my current apartment, I’m afraid someone will see them. Can you take them to your apartment and put them away for me?"

"Have they been washed?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Did you wash them?"

"No."

"Then the answer is no, I will not take them home with me."

"But how am I going to wash them?" he whined.

"How do wash your boy’s underwear?"

"I take them to the laundromat, but I can’t do that with these."

"Why can’t you?" I wanted to know.

"Because someone might see them."

"Well boo hoo. Just tell them you only wear them at work. Or you could say they belong to your girl friend."

"I guess so."

"That’s what you could do, but I recommend washing them in your bathroom sink with a mild detergent and hanging them over the bathtub to dry. It’s much gentler and the panties will last longer. That’s how you should wash all of your dainties. Here," and I handed him the bag. "Don’t bring them back until they’ve been washed." He reluctantly took the bag.

"Take your shirt off, I want to see how your camisole fits." He removed his shirt. I could see chest hair above the bodice. I smiled knowing I would handle that problem this Saturday. "And drop the trousers. I want to see how they go together." He dropped the trousers and showed me his bikini panties. He had his penis tucked between his legs, and he had a nice smooth presentation in front, although he was too flat above. "You look good in women’s lingerie. Ok, you can put your clothes back on."

He put his clothes back on and I told him to come look at my computer screen. I showed him another picture of Jasmine and explained how plaids don’t go with stripes. As he bent over to delete my last background picture, I could make out the outline of his camisole straps under his shirt. I wondered if anyone else would notice. It wasn’t until Wednesday that one of the girls brought it up at lunch.

Jasmine watched him walk by at lunch and then whispered in a conspiratorial voice, "Did you look at Jason when he walked by?" Everyone shrugged. "Look at his shoulders and upper back. I think the swish is wearing a camisole under his shirt."

"No!"

"You’re kidding. I didn’t see."

"Well look when he goes by next time."

"I’m going to make it a point to stop by his desk this afternoon and get a closer look."

"Wait a minute," I counseled. "If he is wearing a cami underneath, don’t say anything."

"Why not."

"Because you don’t want to spook him. Let’s see if he wears it again. Or if he wears something even more interesting," I giggled.

"Great idea. Let’s see how far he will go if he doesn’t think anyone notices."

"Exactly," I said, and laughed with the girls.

Early in the week I called and made a salon appointment for the two of us. I set up a hair appointment for me at 10:00 on Saturday morning, and a waxing appointment for Jason at 10:30. I wanted him to sit in the salon for 30 minutes and relax, before I sprung the surprise on him. I told the girl that I wanted his legs, chest and underarms waxed.

On Friday afternoon as we were walking to the vending machines I told Jason, "I want you to come to my apartment tomorrow morning. Be there by 9:30, no later."

"Why?"

"Because I have a hair appointment at 10:00 and I don’t want to be late. It’s difficult enough getting these appointments and I don’t want to make my stylist mad."

"And you want me to come with you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we have some shopping to do afterwards."

"What if I stay over tonight?"

"Nope. I already have a date tonight." The bounce went out of his step when he heard that. My date was with the real Jasmine. She had asked me to go out with her after work, I had immediately called Gloria and asked if she could meet us at Glitter. After work on Friday, I drove the two of us to Glitter and was able to get a nearby parking space. We walked to the club and both of us were carded.

"Do you come here often?" she asked me.

"I used to. I lived across the street when I was going to school. It was very convenient, and they have great food if you get here early enough."

We found a table and the waitress brought us a couple of drinks and gave us a food menu. We weren’t there more than 15 minutes when Gloria showed up. "Karen," she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I’d stop by after work and get a bite to eat and a sandwich. Gloria, this is a friend from work, Jasmine. Jasmine, Gloria used to be my roommate." They shook hands. "Gloria will you join us? We were just about to order."

Gloria sat down and we started chatting away. The waitress came back and we placed our orders. I allowed Gloria and Jasmine to talk as much as possible, and I tried to stay out of the conversation. They were making good headway when the food arrived. Gloria was explaining the area to Jasmine, telling her about the other clubs and the nightlife. I finished eating and excused myself, so the two of them could talk in private. I was hoping Gloria could explain my sexual preferences to Jasmine.

As I was returning to the table, Gloria came walking by on her way to the restroom. "Any luck?" I asked.

"No problem," she said. "Jasmine is a real looker, and we have a lot in common. I think I took care of your problem too."

"Thanks," and I went back to the table.

"So Jasmine, what do you think of Glitter?"

"Nice place. I had a nice talk with Gloria, She’s pretty neat."

"Yea, she was a good roommate."

"She asked me to join her club hopping tonight. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. Enjoy yourself. I was feeling tired and was hoping to call it an early evening."

So Gloria had done her job, and there were no hard feelings. Everything worked out for the best.

Saturday morning Jason arrived punctually at 9:30. "Let’s go," I said as I hurried him out the door. He had brought his clean panties and camisoles with him, and I just tossed the bag on the sofa as we left. It took almost 25 minutes to drive to the salon and get a parking space. I made it just in time. I don’t think Jason suspected anything, at least he didn’t show any signs. I left him sitting in the waiting area with a couple of fashion magazines to read.

I was having my hair trimmed when I saw the girl walk up to Jason. He sat in the chair and looked surprised as the girl talked to him. He stood up reluctantly and followed her, giving me a quizzical look as he walked by. I smiled at him and gave him a wink. My stylist finished up about a half hour later and I took a seat in the waiting area. I waited another 40 minutes before Jason came out of the waxing room. He walked over to me and gave me a pained grin. "Don’t forget to tip her," I said. I motioned towards the desk where he was to pay. He walked over and spent at least ten minutes talking to the receptionist. He turned and slowly walked over to me. He was looking at his feet and he wasn’t smiling.

"What’s the matter?"

"I have a little money problem," he said very quietly.

"You didn’t bring enough money, did you?"

He shook his head no.

"Just use your credit card. They’ll take plastic."

"That’s another problem. I tried, but the credit card company said I was at my maximum. They won’t pay." He refused to look up at me.

"For crying out loud," I said. "You maxed your card? How much is the max?"

"$8000."

"I don’t believe it. Have you no common sense?"

He continued to look at he floor and make little wimpering sounds. "Can you help me out, please? I’ll pay you back."

"How?" I snarled. I went over to the receptionist and paid his $75 bill. I gave the girl who served him a ten spot.

I stomped out of the salon and Jason shuffled after me. We went back to the car and got in without saying a word. I sat behind the wheel for a minute, collecting my thoughts. "Jason, eight thousand dollars?" He said nothing. "How many other cards do you have?"

"Just that one."

"What did you spend the money on?"

"Computers and clothes."

"Girl’s clothes?"

"Yea."

"You’ve got to do something about that. How much do you pay back each month?"

"Whatever the minimum is."

"Jason!" I yelled. "They’re charging you 18%. You’ll be in debt for the rest of your life!"

"I know, I know. But no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to make things even out."

"That’s because you’re not even trying. That’s $85 that you owe me, and I will keep track!"

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue the shopping day. I had some things I wanted him to get, but he didn’t have any money. I sat there and glared at him for a couple seconds before I decided to go ahead and at least get his ears pierced. I’d add it to his bill. I drove us to a local jewelry store and walked him inside.

"Can I help you?" the saleslady asked.

"Yes, my friend here wants to get his ears pierced. I see you have a nice sale in progress."

"Yes we do. With each ear piercing we have a buy one get one free sale."

"Good. He wants two earrings on each ear. One in the lobe and one a bit higher on the outer edge."

"What?" Jason asked.

"Just as you wanted," I said. I stared at him and made it clear that that was what he really wanted. "Right?"

"Yea," he whispered quietly.

"If you’ll follow me over here we can get started," the girl said. Jason sat down and the girl pierced first his right and then his left ear lobe. She gave him some gauze to hold over each lobe to catch the blood. When it had essentially stopped bleeding, she put a small post in each lobe. Then she repeated the procedure slightly above each lobe, and again inserted a post.

"Shall we look at earrings?" she asked. She led us to a display of men’s rings, and I had Jason pick out a small stud for each lobe, and a small ring for above. "If you purchase those rings, you can pick out two of equal or lesser price."

"Let’s look over here," I suggested, and led him to the girl’s counter.

"These are for girls," the saleslady said helpfully.

"We know," I answered. "This is what he is looking for. He wants a couple of drop earrings that he can wear to the clubs." The girl looked surprised, then gave Jason a little smirk. Jason smiled back.

We picked out two sets of drop earrings, one rhinestone and one with a purple stone, and I paid for everything. Jason owed me another $80. I put the receipt in a small pocket of my purse. I would keep track of his debts. When we returned to my apartment I wrote the specifics on the back of each receipt and put them in my jewelry box.

I called Jason and we walked into his room. "I want you to wear nail polish tonight. Let’s pick out a color you like then I’ll help you get ready." He picked out a dark pink with glitter in it. I took him into the living room and sat him down on the floor. I pulled a low coffee table over in front of him and I sat down on the other side. "I was going to have you get a manicure today, but your money situation stopped that. Honestly Jason, we will have to do something about your financial situation."

I picked up a file and began filing his nails. "Your nails are too short to do much with them. All I am going to do is file them round and clean them up. Then we can let them grow. You’ll be able to keep them manicured and shaped with regular attention. You will have to wear nail hardener from now on. All of the time. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"After I’m done filing them, I will apply one coat of color. After they dry I will apply a second coat. That will be all we’ll do for this weekend. On Sunday, you will remove the color and apply the hardener. But you will leave the polish on your toenails."

"You said ‘this weekend’. Does that mean we’ll continue to do this every weekend?"

"That depends entirely on you."

"You mean I get a choice in this?"

"Heavens no, silly girl. What I decide depends on how you react. You might want to think about your attitude. I might decide to totally humiliate you in front of your family and friends, I might decide to help you achieve your greatest fantasy, or I might do something totally irrational and unheard of." His enthusiastic smile slipped off his face.

"Now watch closely as I apply this polish. You will do the same for me, only I’m going to pick a color that isn’t such a fashion disaster." I smiled as he glanced at the polish and furrowed his brows. I applied his first coat. "Lean back against the couch and stretch your legs out in front of you." I took his shoes and socks off. "Stay there, I’ll be right back. I forgot the cotton balls."

I returned and stuffed a cotton ball between each toe and then I applied the polish to his toenails. "Sit there and relax and don’t touch your nails. It’s tempting to touch them to see if they’re dry. Don’t do it. You’ll regret it. I’ll be back in a few minutes." I went into the kitchen, poured us each a coke and added a couple of ice cubes. I took them back out and handed one to Jason.

"So tell me, how in the hell did you spend $8000?"

"Well I didn’t mean to. It just happened." I snorted. "It just crept up on me. I bought a new computer so that I could load up the latest software for web page publishing. That was $2500. That was probably the single biggest buy. I bought most of my clothes on-line. The problem is you can’t check the size. So I bought several items that I couldn’t even use. I found several good sites for transvestites, and I always found something new that I liked. I ended up with 6 or 7 wigs. I tossed a couple when I moved here because they were so bad. In fact, I purged a lot of items when I packed for here."

"When I first started dressing, I was pretty pathetic. I kept going to personal web pages of the better looking girls and I would study what they were doing, and I would try to emulate that. I bought a lot of styles and colors and things that just didn’t work for me." He sighed. "But I was becoming obsessed. So I kept working at it, and I gradually got better. When I got to the point of respectability, I had to buy a good digital camera with a strobe so that I could take pictures for my own web page. I had to buy odds and ends like a tripod, a trip wire, soft focus lens, software for touch-up work, and pretty soon that all added up to real money." He shrugged his shoulders in an act of confession, "I just didn’t realize what I was doing. I was lost in my fantasy world."

"Did you ever see Tara on line?"

"Yea, I did. She has a beautiful page. Not only is she a great looking girl, but she is willing to push the envelope a little. She gets a bit kinky."

"Is that what you were talking about the other night?"

"Yea."

"What do you know about her?"

"Not much. She’s from Chicago and a lawyer like you."

"Really? That might be useful. Is she straight?"

Jason cringed. "She’s bi."

"Do you like her?"

Again he cringed. "I like her as a crossdresser. I like her feminine persona. She is beautiful, sexy and ultra-passable. I’m in love with that female persona. But knowing what is underneath, I would never go there. I am 100% hetero."

"100%?" I asked with upraised eyebrows.

"99%."

I interrupted the conversation and handed her my nail polish. "Your nails should be dry enough. I want you to do my toes first, than we’ll slide over to the table and I want you to do my fingernails." Jason started stuffing cotton between my toes.

"So you’re 99%?"

"That didn’t come out right. I guess I mean I’m curious. Not for myself. I mean not that I would want to do anything with a man, but I guess I’d like to see a pretty TV with another TV or maybe a real girl."

"What do you think of me?"

He turned red and blushed. I was afraid he was going to spread that polish all over my toes.

"I’m a girl, aren’t I?"

"Oh yes," he sighed.

"Am I pretty?"

"You’re the most beautiful woman that I have ever known. I really mean that."

"Do you like me?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you do what I tell you to do?"

He started becoming defensive. I was pushing into a psychological area that he was unsure of. "Maybe. Mostly because you threatened to expose me."

"I did?"

"Yea. I don’t think I could handle that."

"I never threatened to expose you. Not verbally at least", and I smiled. "You might be surprised what you can handle. You just need some more self-confidence." I thought for a minute and then decided to take Jason to the next level. "Jason, lean over here and kiss me."

"Wh … what?"

"You heard exactly what I said. Don’t ever question me again. Now do as I told you." He got up on his knees and leaned over and gave me a kiss on the lips. I made it a quick kiss. "Did you like that?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

"Good. Now finish my nails." As he returned to my nails, I hit him with the punch line, "Jason, if I ever tell you to kiss Tara, I expect you to do it."

He stopped with my nails and just looked at me. "Ok." I could barley hear him, but I knew I had him scared. We said very little as we finished applying polish to each other’s nails. We each received two coats before I told Jason to go take a nap. "Last weekend was tough on me," I confessed. "I must be getting old. If I want to keep up with you tonight, I need a nap too." I gave him a gentle smile and went to my room.

I woke an hour later and knocked on Jason’s door. "Get up sleepy head." When he answered the door he was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Jason, it’s time for you to learn to cook. But first, let’s put your breasts on. You have glue for your breast forms right?"

"Yea. I have a couple of bottles in fact."

"Good. Strip, put on your panties with the padded ass, a bra and slip in your breast forms. Bring the glue and boxes for your breast forms."

It’s amazing what you can learn on-line. I was about to put my surfing to practice. He came back out prepared as I had instructed. I took a pen , pulled down his bra so I could see the breast forms. I made a couple of marks on his skin to show where the breast forms sat against his chest. "Ok, take off the forms and bra." I took the glue and painted his skin inside the pen marks. While that dried I laid his breast forms upside down in their holders, and covered their entire underside with the glue. It took about ten minutes for them to dry.

I picked up the breast forms and stuck them against his skin. "Hold that one while I press on the second one. Now let me hold them both and I want you to put on your bra." I didn’t want them to slip before he could get the bra on. I thought they would stay in place already, but I wanted the bra to hold them in place until they were firmly adhered. Once he had the bra in place I said, "Go put your robe on, and then I will give you your first cooking lesson."

When he came to the kitchen I told him, "I’m going to show you how to cook pasta."

"But I don’t like pasta."

"I know. Now let’s get started."

He was attentive enough and I think he learned a little. At the end of dinner I said, "Stack the dishes in the sink. You can clean up tomorrow morning. And remember to stay in your negligee and robe tomorrow morning."

"Ok."

"You should say ‘yes ma’am’ when I give you instructions."

"Yes ma’am."

"That’s better. Now go shave, and shave close!"

He returned from the bathroom about twenty minutes later. "Were you bleeding?"

"Yea."

Is that what took so long?"

Yes."

"You’re going to have to get better at that. Now, take off your robe and bra."

He did as I told him. I gripped his breast forms and jiggled them. They held tight in place. "Jump," I told Jason. I watched his breasts bounce up and down, lagging behind just a bit. They flopped up and down and looked very real. "That’s great. They really look good. I’m impressed. Let’s get you into your corset." Before Jason could put on his corset I gave him a pair of panty hose. "First things first I said."

I tied him into his corset, then gave him a camisole and he slid it over his faux tits. Without help from any other clothes, he had a nice figure. I was impressed.

"Do you want to wear a skirt or dress tonight?"

"Dress."

"Wrong. You’re not ready. Let’s look at your skirts. What do you have that is about knee length?" He had 8 or 9 choices. I couldn’t believe how many clothes he had. We picked out a tight, silk floral print that hung nice and flowed with his movements. "I want a sleeveless top that can show off your freshly waxed pits. Something tight that will emphasize your boobs and narrow waist." We found a pretty white top with a deep V-neck and a bit longer than his waistline. We tried it tucked and out and decided it should be left out.

"You handled 3 inch heels last weekend, so let’s do it again." I helped him into the heels and then found a nice necklace and bracelet. "I’d love to give you those nice drop earrings, but you need some healing time first. Bring your makeup into my room. You can use my vanity. I’m not going to help you tonight, I want you to apply your own makeup. I’ll supervise and tell you what to do."

I learned a lesson that night. Don’t dress Jasmine before she puts on her makeup. She had powder all over her top and we had to switch to a different top after her makeup was finished. We tried on a couple of her wigs and even though it wasn’t the best match, I had her wear the long red wig. It made her feel more feminine because she could swing her hair around. I spritzed her with perfume and then told her to go fill her purse while I started getting ready.

When we were ready to go, I asked to see her purse. "Do you have Kleenex?"

"Yes."

Do you have a tampon?"

"No."

"What did I tell you last week?"

"All girls always carry a tampon in their purse in case of emergency." I went into the bathroom and retrieved one for her.

As I handed her the tampon I said, "Don’t ever forget again. There will be a penalty next time. Understand?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Good answer, Jasmine. Let’s go party."

I took her to another gay nightclub. Like Glitter, this one also catered to both men and women. I didn’t think she was ready for an all female club. My plan was to take her to mixed clubs, then male then all female and finally out into the hetero world. It wasn’t as noisy as Glitter and I was able to talk with her throughout the evening. I pointed out the way the girls dressed, and walked and how they held their hands and arms and gave her instructions on girl body language.

We danced several times and I allowed her to have two drinks. I took her to the girl’s room a couple of times to freshen her makeup and become more comfortable in the girl’s environment. There were a couple of crossdressers there and Jasmine talked with each of them. None of them was that convincing, but that didn’t stop her from collecting more e-mail addresses.

We left the club around 2:00 A.M. and I took her to an all night coffee house. We sipped coffee and continued our girl talk. It was pleasant evening and we enjoyed the walk back to the car. Several times during the night I had to remind her how she should walk and comport herself. She seemed to be either slow at learning it, or sloppy in remembering it.

When we reached my apartment I helped her out of her heels and corset, and I watched over her to make sure that she was thorough in removing her makeup and applying her cold cream. I sent her to her bedroom to change into her negligee. She was still wearing her wig when she came out for her goodnight kiss. I preferred her with the wig, and in conjunction with the breast forms that she was still wearing I thought she looked nice. Before I sent her to bed I complimented her hair and general appearance. "I don’t want you to get your hair cut anymore. You’re going to let it grow out, understand?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Did you have a good time tonight?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Sleep well," and I gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Sunday morning Jasmine remembered what she had been told. She put a robe over her negligee and wore her wig. She had the kitchen cleaned up before I came out of my bedroom. I sent her down to get the paper while I headed to the bathroom. "I can’t go down to the lobby like this," she complained. "I don’t have any makeup on and I look ridiculous."

"That’s too bad," I sad with mock concern. "Do it anyway. If you see anyone, smile and say ‘good morning’ ".

When she returned I asked if she ran into anyone. "No."

"See, you get worried over the most inconsequential things. Now go make us some breakfast, I’m hungry."

On Monday morning I slipped a pair of thigh-highs along with panties and a camisole into her bag. When she came into my office she handed me the bag and I glanced in. "What are these?" I asked as I took out a pair of panties.

"I ran out of my men’s underwear. Can you bring some back to me tomorrow?"

"Sorry sweetie, no can do."

"Why not?"

"Because I threw them all away. You don’t have any."

"How could you do that?" he demanded.

"Easy. You know that trash container by the elevator in my garage? I just throw them in there when I go home every night."

"But now I don’t have any."

"You don’t need any. From now on you will wear nothing but women’s panties. And don’t whine about it, you prefer them and we both know it. And the same goes with camisoles. I don’t want you to wear your men’s undershirts anymore. You will wear nothing but camisoles. Lord knows you have enough. Now quickly before anyone gets here, show me what you have on."

Jason dropped his trousers and showed me his panties and nylons. Then he took off his shirt and showed me his camisole. "You look pretty in girl’s clothes Jason. You were born to wear them. And you have very nice legs. You need to show them off more. Ok. Put everything back on, and let’s take a look at today’s picture of Jasmine."

Jason and I looked at Jasmine’s picture and talked about her choice of accessories with the dress that she wore. Her pierced ears were going to make things easier for her in that area. She deleted the picture and left for her desk. As usual, I reloaded the picture and put it in my Govt directory.

At lunch, the topic du jour was Jason’s earrings.

"How utterly girly. Two rings in each ear. There is no doubt anymore."

"You’re right. He’s not only gay, but I think he’s a transvestite."

"No. Yea that would make sense."

"Is he wearing a camisole today?"

"I’m pretty sure he is. What a swish."

"He is just too hilarious."

"You meant just too sad."

"I’ve got to tell Sue in administration. She’ll love this."

And so the character assassination proceeded. Poor Jason.

Jason came to my office and asked me to join him for a soda. "I never asked you Jason. How did you like your waxing?"

"For my legs it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. But waxing my chest did hurt."

"Do you like the smooth, clean feel? Can you notice it under your clothes."

"Yes and yes. Especially when I’m in my negligee. The fabric feels so smooth and cool against my skin. I love it," he smiled.

"How about your thigh-highs? How do they feel?"

"I like ‘em, but as the day goes on the elastic is cutting into my thighs more and more. I keep catching myself reaching down to tug on them."

"You’ll get used to them and they’ll feel just like second nature to you. Isn’t it fun dressing in girl’s clothes?"

A huge smile spread across his face, "Yea, it is. Thanks."

"Don’t thank me yet," I warned. "You might want to change your mind later."

"I doubt it."

Tuesday did not start out as a good day for Jason. He came into my office with his little bag and he set in on my desk. He closed the door and dropped his pants without saying a word. He pulled off his shirt and showed me his dainty underwear. "Every time you show me your undies, I am amazed at how pretty you are in lingerie. You truly were born to be a sissy."

He didn’t respond to my baiting, so I asked, "Jason, you’re not talking much this morning. What’s wrong?"

"I have to move."

"Move out of your loft?"

"Yea. The lady’s father passed away last night. The funeral is later this week. She said that her mother couldn’t continue living alone and would need to move in with her. She needs my room back."

"That’s too bad," I said. "Do you know what you’re going to do?"

"I’m not sure. I don’t have my parent’s money yet, so I still don’t have any money for a security deposit. There is only one thing that I can think of."

"What’s that?"

"Can I move in with you? Can I live in your second bedroom? I’ll pay rent."

For once he caught me off guard. I fell back into my chair. He stood there with his big puppy dog eyes pleading and begging. I knew I would have to say yes. But not right away. I wanted to think things over first. I’d tell him later. "That’s a big request Jason. Let me think about it, ok?"

"Ok. Do you want to show me today’s picture?"

"Let’s skip it for today. Why don’t you go back to your desk and get to work."

I spent the morning thinking about Jason and how to handle his request. I wasn’t going to turn him down, I just wanted to think about the best way to handle it. I reached into my desk and pulled out a disk with standard law forms on it. I slipped it into the computerand pulled up the form for power of attorney and put his and my names in the proper places. I modified it slightly and when I was satisfied I printed it out.

I called Jason and asked him to come to my office. He knocked on the door and announced his presence. "You call?"

"Yes Jason. Come in and close the door." He closed the door. "Sit down." He sat. "I’ve been thinking over your request and I have decided to let you move in with me."

A huge exhale of relief come from Jason. "Thank you, thank …" I cut him off.

"Just a minute, its not that easy. There are going to be some rules."

"Ok,"

"First, I’m not letting Jason move in, I’m letting Jasmine move in." His eyebrows shot up and he gave me a quizzical look, but he said nothing. "The only time I want to see Jason is when he goes to and returns from work. The rest of the time I expect to see Jasmine properly dressed. Is that acceptable?"

"I can do that," he replied. I could see that he was apprehensive, and he should have been.

"Jason will be expected to continue our dress-up game at work, or a variation thereof. Can you do that?"

"I guess."

"No guessing. Yes or no? You will be expected to sign this contract."

Gulp. "Yes."

"Next, I expect Jasmine to help around the house; cooking, cleaning, laundry and the sort. Will you help?"

"Absolutely." That was an easy agreement for Jason. "What about rent?"

"I’m getting to that. It is going to be very expensive." He swallowed. "I have here a form for power of attorney. You will give me complete control over your finances. You will be given $50 a week for your own expenses. You can spend that on anything you want. I will set aside $100 per week for Jasmine to use at the beauty salon, shopping or other female necessities. She can spend that money only with my approval. The rest of your money will be split in half. One half will go towards paying off your credit card and the other half will be put in escrow for you. It will be your savings. In exchange for this, you will have no rent and no expenses — other than your food. Do you agree?"

"I think so."

"Here, take this contract back to your desk and read it thoroughly. If you agree, sign it and bring it back to me." He took the contract and left. I knew he would be back with the signed agreement. I’d have it by the end of the day. When our afternoon break rolled around he came to my office and gave me the signed forms.

Out in the hallway I said to him, "I’ll ask you one last time Jason, are you comfortable with the contract? Can you live up to it?"

"I’ll be honest, I’m a little nervous. No, I’m scared. I don’t know how far to trust you, but I am going to trust you. I just hope you will treat me right."

"Jason, that’s a stupid wish. Don’t ever wish for people to treat you right. Always put yourself in a position so you don’t have to trust. Take some control of your life."

"I’ll try." he said. I started laughing. "What’s so funny?"

"You’ll try. Jason, you just did the opposite. Are you sure that you want to do this? I don’t want you to whine and force me to kick you out later. There is no turning back. You will live by my rules."

"I don’t think I have a choice. I put myself in this position with my stupid spending habits."

"Ok, I hope you don’t live to regret this. How much stuff do you have to move?"

"Not much."

"Can it fit in my car?"

"Yea, I’m pretty sure."

"Then we’ll move you tonight. Just so you know, I’m leaving as soon as we are done here, and I will go to your bank and present this power of attorney form and take control of your account. I’ll be back by 5:00 to pick you up."

I did exactly what I said. At 5:00 I returned to the office and collected the things from my office, shut down my computer and picked up Jason. As we walked to the elevator I handed him a money envelope.

"What’s this," he asked.

"This week’s $50. You are going to have to learn how to be frugal from now on. I want you to start brown bagging lunch tomorrow. The cafeteria is too expensive for you."

"You’re serious aren’t you?"

"Absolutely, sweetie."

We spent the evening moving him into his new home.

The next morning I reminded him to pack his lunch. "Also, before you get fully dressed, I want you to come show me what you are wearing for lingerie. I want to see panties, a camisole and stockings to begin with."

"What do you mean to begin with?"

"Eventually, we are going to expand your wardrobe, sweetie. Now go do as I say."

"But, I’m not sure …"

"Jason!" I raised my voice. "It’s getting late and I will not debate this with you. You signed the agreement now get over it!"

We were the first to arrive at work and we both went to our desks and began our day. I put a new background on my computer, but didn’t bother showing it to Jason. It wasn’t necessary anymore. About 9:00 I called Jasmine and asked her to come to my office.

"Karen, how’s it going?"

"Good. Look, I have a favor to ask you. You and the rest of the girls."

"What is it?"

"As you know, I take a soda break every afternoon with Jason. He told me yesterday that he has money problems and can’t afford to eat at the cafeteria anymore. He is going to brown bag his lunch. Well, I thought it would be nice to invite him to bring his lunch and sit with us in the cafeteria. What do you think?"

"With the little fruit? Why would I want to do that?"

"Well first, if we don’t he won’t be walking through the cafeteria showing us what he is wearing for the day. Second, it let’s us get a closer look at what he’s wearing. Third, it might be fun to surround him with girl talk. It might be interesting to see what comes out. I just think it would be nice to him, and advantageous for us."

"But we only have a table for four."

"We could move to one of the round tables. Ask the other girls and see if they will agree. Ok? As a favor? And if they agree, we still don’t say anything to him about his clothes or earrings, right?"

"I’ll check and see."

"Thanks."

Jasmine returned about an hour later. "Ok, we’ve agreed that we will try it for a week and see if it works out."

"Great, thanks. Tell everyone thanks. Do you want to go invite him?"

"Me? Why me?"

"It would be a nice gesture is all. Please?"

She shook her head as she walked out the door.

About half an hour later Jason walked in. "Karen, Jasmine asked me to join you for lunch. She insisted. I don’t know if I can."

"What did you tell her?"

"I said I wasn’t sure."

"Go right back to her and say thank you, it is most gracious of you to invite me and I accept."

"But I’m nervous about saying something that I shouldn’t. You know, about you letting me stay with you."

"Act shy and say little for the first several days until you become more accustomed to the situation. You can do it, sweetie. Now go."

Lunch actually went quite well. Jason said little, was polite and listened to the girls rip everyone else apart. It was a real awakening for her. "Is that what real girls talk about?" she asked me that night. "Was that a typical conversation?"

"It sure was sweetie. It’s something you need to learn about if your going to be a passable girl."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jason, Jasmine and I soon fell into a comfortable routine. Each morning I told Jason what to wear, and he would model it for me. I had him switch between different styles of panties, camisoles, and stockings. When we returned home each night, Jasmine changed clothes, put on makeup and a wig. Jasmine dressed a bit more dressy than you would expect at home, but we used each and every night to practice her fashion sense as well her deportment and voice. On weekends we began dressing Jasmine to the nines and taking her to different clubs. All gay clubs.

Jasmine was getting better with her walk and talk and deportment. Her hair was growing longer, and we began experimenting with styling it. I felt it might be long enough to style and wear in public. We began with curlers, hot iron curlers or a blow dryer. I wasn’t very good at hair styling, but we continued to try and try. I finally gave up.

I had decided that Jasmine was ready to step into the real world, and I knew she couldn’t do it with the wigs that she had. I asked Jasmine for help. She spent a lot of time on the Internet and I thought that maybe we could find some help there. I told her that I wanted to take her out into the real public; the world of heterosexual night clubs. And I emphasized that we needed to have her appearance as perfect as possible. We needed hair help. Her job was to check the Internet and find a local business or woman who could help.

Jasmine came through. She gave me the name of a local salon that serviced the transvestite and crossdressing community. I called and explained the situation. The problem was Jasmine’s hair wasn’t quite long enough for a real cut and style, so I wanted a best attempt for one night. The stylist suggested something a bit more permanent than a one night style.

"What about hair extensions?" she asked.

"Tell me about it," I responded.

"We use 100% real human hair. It is virtually undetectable from your own. We can attach hair shafts of any length . They are semi-permanently attached to the existing hair with a keratin adhesive. Chemically it is very similar to the hair itself, so it bonds very tightly and withstands the normal care and abuse that hair goes through. The extensions can then be cut, colored or styled to match the existing hair. It can last up to 6 or 8 weeks with proper care. After that time, you need to stop in and we will fill in missing or damaged strands. The attachments are close to the scalp and difficult to notice. Pulling the hair tight, as in a pony tail makes the attachments slightly more visible, but from a distance it is still very difficult to notice."

"How much does it cost?"

"That depends on many factors."

"Just give me a range."

"$200 to $400."

"Ouch. How long does it take?"

"Probably 3 to 5 hours, depending on coloring, cutting and styling."

"Do you have to color? Can you match the existing hair color?"

"Usually we can come very close. But for best results, we advise coloring."

"I’m sure you do," I laughed. "Seriously, we’re a little short on change right now. Can you match the color and save us a few bucks?"

"Probably, ma’am. We really won’t know until we have a chance to sit down for a consultation. Can we make an appointment?"

"Is this weekend open?"

"I’m sorry, but our stylist trained for this operation only works weekdays. Are you available this Friday?"

Big sigh, "Sure. Mark us down for the morning."

"Is ten ok?"

"Sure. Make the appointment for Jasmine. I’ll give you my telephone number."

I informed Jason that he would have to take a vacation day on Friday.

"Why."

"Because you’re going to get hair extensions."

"Aren’t they very expensive?"

"Yes they are. This is going to shoot your beauty salon budget for a long time. No more leg waxing for a while."

"That’s too bad," and he smiled.

"Yes it is," I responded. "Your hair grows in much slower and much softer when you wax."

"Is it really worth the cost? I mean couldn’t I just buy a really nice wig?"

"Maybe. But we can get your money’s worth with the weave."

"How?’ Jason asked.

"The stylist said they can last up to 8 weeks. By then your own hair will be long enough and we can have it styled then."

"Wait a minute. You expect me to wear this weave for 8 weeks? I thought this was just for the weekend. I can’t do that."

"Why not?"

"What will I do for work?"

"We’ll tie it back it in a pony tail."

"I mean what will I tell everyone?" He sounded desperate.

"No problem, I’ve got you covered there. You just tell everyone that you are joining a local community play and you need long hair for your character. Simple, no?"

"And what character and what play would that be?"

"Hair."

"Hair?"

"Hair."

Jason started laughing. "You can’t possibly be serious."

"Serious as a heart attack," I smiled.

"No … you can’t," he began to whimper.

"Of course I can, and I will. Have you ever seen Hair?"

"I’ve never heard of it."

"My, my. You are an under-educated youth aren’t you? Go to the library this week and rent the video. I suggest that the rest of this week you watch it several times and memorize it. When you tell people that you are in the play, they are going to ask lots of questions and you better know the answers."

"Is it playing somewhere?"

"How would I know?"

"But you said that I should say that I am in the play. If it isn’t playing anywhere, everyone will know that I’m lying." He was getting hyper over this little detail. I really didn’t care.

"Figure it out, Jason. Lie. Make something up. Say its just starting at such a little community playhouse that no one outside of your neighborhood has ever heard of it. Tell them you are a transvestite and you are practicing your hobby. I don’t care, sweetie. My God! I’m bending over backwards to help you out, to help you enjoy what you love, and all I get is bitching and whining! If it’s too fucking much for you, get the fuck out!" I had gotten loud and abrupt. I was getting fed up with his constant bitching.

"I’m sorry," he whimpered. "I do appreciate what you are doing for me."

"Like no friggin’ rent for instance?"

"Yes." He was very contrite. "I’ll think of something. I’ll handle it. Please, I really appreciate everything that you have done for me. Really. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you say."

"Damn," I said and I left the room shaking my head. I congratulated myself all the way to my room. I hadn’t planned that, but I had just taken total control of his life. Wow!

Just for the fun of it, the next morning I made him wear a pair of one-inch hoop earrings in his lobes. The girls complimented him at lunch.

"They’re very sexy, Jason."

"I love the way they compliment your eyes," snicker, snicker.

"You look so sweet, darling."

They looked so nice that I made them a permanent addition to his panties, stockings and camisole. I was looking forward to expanding the wardrobe.

Friday eventually rolled around. After his shower, I had Jason glue on his breast forms and put on a bra. I made him wear a panty girdle with a padded rear end. I told him to put on a garter belt and stockings and 3-inch heels. I helped him into his corset and we pulled it as tight as we could. We picked out a short skirt and a sleeveless Tee for him to wear. "No makeup, except for a light lipstick," I said. "We’ll do your nails this afternoon."

"What about a wig to wear on the way there?"

"It’ll just get in the way. Let’s just go as you are."

"I look like a freak."

"You’ll look fine when we leave the salon. Get your purse and let’s go. And make sure that you have your tampon."

We drove to the salon and walked in. The receptionist was expecting us, but I think she was still a bit shocked by Jasmine’s appearance. She wasn’t totally ugly, but without appropriate hair she was obviously a he.

"Gina will be your stylist today, Jasmine. Can I get you a coffee or soft drink?"

"Thanks, a diet coke would be nice."

"And you miss?" she looked at me.

"Coffee, cream and sugar, thanks."

Gina showed up immediately. She took us to her station, which was very secluded. She immediately tried to calm Jasmine’s nerves and set the mood. "Jasmine, you like very nice and I promise you that when you leave you will not believe how beautiful you are. You have a tremendous number of colors, lengths, and styles to choose from. We’ll try and work together to give you a look that is uniquely yours. Something that will enhance your individual beauty and make you feel as feminine as a goddess. There are many questions that I need to ask and the first one is, what do you want to accomplish? What is your goal?"

And thus began Jasmine’s transformation into a truly beautiful girl. As I have said before, she already had a nice figure and her face, when made-up, was very feminine and pretty. Her hair and nails had been her weak points, and Gina eliminated one of those weak points. I stayed with Jasmine the entire time (I even took some pictures) except for the bathroom breaks. Gina was amazing. She was a talented artist and a fantastic psychologist. She made Jasmine feel so comfortable and feminine that I had to compliment her.

"How did you learn your ‘bedside manner’?" I asked. "Have you been handling TVs a long time?"

"Jasmine is only my second customer. But I did practice on my little brothers when I was younger. And Karen, this isn’t difficult. She wants to be treated like every other girl. You just have to remember that this is all new, and you have to explain a bit more than normal. I love doing this. I would much rather turn an ugly duckling boy into a pretty girl than deal with a snobby, rich, sorority girl. And just between you and me, she’s a cutey. I envy you." She gave me a smug smile and returned to Jasmine.

After interviewing Jasmine, Gina set to work. She had some hair that perfectly matched Jasmine’s color and she told us flat out that it was sheer luck. One in a thousand. Jasmine had looked through several hairstyle books, and she and Gina decided on shoulder length hair. Gina pointed out many different styles that would be available with the extensions that Gina would give her. Gina explained several times the limitations, instructions on care, no-nos and general maintenance. Brushing and combing would have to be very delicate and careful and done with a soft-paddle brush. Jasmine would have to tie her hair back in a braid or ponytail for sleeping. She would have to make sure the hair and especially the roots were dry after washing. Her hair would tend to dry out if she washed it more than every other day. She would have to carefully separate the strands every morning and there were a few other items to remember.

Gina said that she would set Jasmine’s hair in a curly style for the weekend. But she also handed Jasmine a couple of small pamphlets on hair care, extension care and some styles that would go with the style that she was getting. "Do you have much experience with setting and styling your own hair?" Gina asked.

"None at all."

Gina looked at me, "That will be your job then. Study that styling pamphlet. There are some really cute and easy styles for Jasmine’s hair. Help her out, she has a lot to learn." Then she returned to Jasmine, "And Jasmine, if you would like, you can come back anytime and I’ll give you a nice wash and set and I’ll explain everything I do as I style your hair. The first appointment will be half price."

Jasmine was sincerely appreciative. "Thanks Gina. You’re really kind. Money is tight, but one way or another, I’ll be back." Then for the first time that I could remember, Jasmine said something truly funny and forward, "Gina, will you marry me?" We all laughed and Gina flashed her wedding ring in Jasmine’s face.

Gina spent a long time with Jasmine. She sectioned Jasmine’s hair, pinned each section out of the way, and took a small strand of Jasmine’s hair and fastened an extension to it. The extensions were attached with a proprietary adhesive which was activated with a tweezer like heat unit. The attachments were about 2 centimeters from the scalp and very tiny. After attaching a row of extensions, Gina released the next section of hair and attached the next group. It took almost two hours to slowly work her way around Jasmine’s scalp. When all of the hair was attached, she led Jasmine to the sink. "I’m going to wash and shampoo your hair so it will be wet. That makes it lie flat and makes it much easier to cut the hair. Almost all haircuts are done with the hair wet. I’m going to trim the extensions to an even length. All strands will be allowed to hang to the bottom of your style. I’m not going to layer your hair. This will make it easier for you to pull it behind for a ponytail. It will look much better that way, and when you want, it can look like a boy’s ponytail."

Jasmine looked at me and grinned. She had the look of a woman who couldn’t believe how wonderful her life had become.

"This style still leaves you many options for styling and curling. I’m sure you are going to want it nice and curly when you go out clubbing. Am I right?"

"Girl, you are so right. I love long, curly hair. You can’t make it curly enough," and Jasmine beamed a huge smile. She was loving the attention and the possibilities.

"And you will find this styling easy. You can use wet sets, hot curlers or even a hot curling iron. Now let me warn you, curling irons are the most difficult to master and can be the most damaging. Be very careful with the hot iron, don’t let it touch the adhesive and attachment area. I’d leave them alone until you have plenty of experience with curlers. Hair curlers are messy, but they’re sexy, feminine and fun."

"Ok," she sighed. Jasmine was having the time of her life.

"So just relax, while I turn you into Chicago’s newest diva. Don’t forget me when you become rich and famous."

Gina, shampooed Jasmine’s hair, wrapped a towel around her head and led her to a styling station. She quickly combed out the extensions and hair and trimmed them to a uniform length just above the shoulders. Next, Gina pulled over a cart loaded with curlers and accessories. She parted Jasmines hair down the center and then began sectioning the rest of her hair. Gina then used small curlers to roll up her hair. After pinning the last curler, Gina took Jasmine’s hand and led her to the dryers. After checking the air temperature and getting Jasmine a Cosmpolitan, I pulled Gina aside.

"Gina, you have been an absolute darling today. Jasmine will never forget this day."

"I hope not, Gina agreed. "This is an important moment for all girls; their first salon visit!"

"Can I ask you to do one more thing?"

"Sure."

"Would you wax her eyebrows?"

"Sorry, I don’t do that, but we have someone who can. Will that be alright?"

"Sure."

"What do you want? Thin a little or thin a lot? Lot’s of arch?"

"Thin them down to an average level. Give them a bit of arch. I want her to look feminine, but not like some drag star who paints them on."

"I think I know what you are looking for. I’ll have a Janice handle everything."

She left Jasmine under the dryer for about 40 minutes. Then she led her over to Janice’s station. "Janice is going to clean up your brows. Don’t worry, I’ve told her not to go to extremes. But with this do that I’m giving you, you have to have nice eyes. And your brows are critical to the right look. Jasmine, when were done with you Chicago will worship at your feet."

Janice introduced herself, then took a small stick and spread a small amount of warm wax under Jasmine’s brow. She pressed a cloth against the wax, pressed it down, then ripped it off. Jasmine didn’t complain at all. Janice then took her tweezers and began cleaning up the brows and around them. She repeated her efforts on the other eyebrow, then pronounced Jasmine beautiful. She walked Jasmine back to Gina’s station.

"Jasmine, your brows look perfect. You are going to love your total look. Let’s unroll these curlers and see what we have. Gina unrolled the first curler, and Jasmine’s hair popped back into its curled position. Jasmine was watching in the mirror and she marveled at that single, perfect curl lying on the side of her head. It was beautiful. Gorgeous. The epitome of what she had always dreamed about. Jasmine was becoming a beautiful woman. Nothing in the entire world could be better.

Gina carefully unrolled each curler and placed it and it’s pin in their proper bucket. After all of the curlers had been removed she stood behind Jasmine and they both looked in the mirror. "What do you think Jasmine, should we leave them right where they are?"

"Gina, you have no idea how thrilled I am. I love the curls. Yes, can we leave them right where they are?"

Gina laughed, "We could, Jasmine. I love the look of those little curls as much as you do. But trust me, they will look more ‘finished’ and pretty after I brush them out. With this much hair, you are going to love the volume and flow of your style. I’m going to frame your face, because you have such a great facial shape. I wouldn’t do this with the normal oval face shape. But you face is rounder, and I’m going to make you beautiful. Prepare to break hearts, girl."

Gina was right. Not only was she a wonderful stylist, but she was also a phenomenal psychologist. Jasmine was finally finished. She was beautiful inside and out. Her style was perfect for her facial structure and she had never ‘felt’ prettier in her life. For Jasmine, the price was worth every penny. For me, the banker, I was wondering how I had come to the point where I was subsidizing Jasmine’s metamorphosis. But she did look good. Mmmmmm.

We thanked Gina and returned home. We had a late lunch and then I gave Jasmine a home-made manicure. Her nails had been growing for a couple of weeks and they were getting longer, but still had a ways to go. I removed the hardener from her nails, then took a file and shaped them the best that I could. I applied two coats of her glittery pink polish.

We went through her wardrobe and picked out her clothes and jewelry for the evening. She chose a black dress with a dramatic asymmetrical hemline. The hem started at her right knee and ended at her left calf. It had long sleeves with a deep surplice neckline and ruched sides to accent her thin waist. For hose she chose black stockings with a back seam. They would go nicely with her open toed 3-inch black velvet heels. Jasmine decided to go with silver jewelry including a silver pendant with a large faux-ruby and three smaller ones. It would sit over her cleavage and look very smart. She chose large 3-inch drop earrings and finished it with silver bangle bracelets and a couple of silver rings.

I helped Jasmine tuck her new hair into a shower cap and then sent her to the bathroom for a long, fragrant bubble bath. I told her to make sure she shaved her legs and armpits. After her bath she dusted herself with perfumed powder, shaved ultra close, brushed her teeth and returned to her room. I had dressed while she was in the bathroom, so I was available to help her dress. After pulling up her padded panties, I joined her in her room and assisted with her corset. She put a black brassiere over her breast forms and had a great start to a beautiful, thin figure. I had to help her slide on her stockings and attach them to her garters. I instructed Jasmine to wear a black, thigh high slip.

Next, I led her to my vanity and sat her down in front of the mirror. I supervised her make-up application, but only had to make one or two very minor comments. Jasmine was progressing very nicely in her make-up application technique and choice of proper cosmetics. She finished with her lip liner and lipstick, and then I presented her with gloss to put over the lipstick. It made her lips shine.

We both returned to her room where she put on her dress and heels. She looked very pretty. I mean VERY pretty. She added her jewelry and we were almost ready. I took her back to my vanity, seated her and fluffed out her hair, brushing it back into place and spraying it with a strong hair spray.

"Stand up," I ordered. "Turn around. Now twirl around." She twirled and the hem of her dress flew up, but didn’t expose her slip. "My gosh but you make one beautiful woman. What do you think?"

Jasmine had been bubbling ever since we returned from the stylist, but she was reaching a crescendo. "I just love how I look. I feel so pretty and feminine. I’ve been waiting my entire life for this, and now its here," she gushed. "I couldn’t be any happier than I am right now. Thank you for everything you have done, Karen. I love you."

"Careful," I said through a grin. "Don’t go all mushy on me. Do you have your purse?"

"No let me go prepare it." She had chosen a small black clutch purse, so she had to choose carefully what she was going to take. She returned to the living room and held up a tampon. "Look what I remembered." She smiled and dropped it into her purse. "Jasmine ready and reporting for her date, Ms. Karen," she announced.

"Let’s do it then. Head up, elbows tight, walk like the beautiful, confident woman you are Jasmine." I took her to my car and opened her door. She sat down and very properly swung both her feet into the car. She straightened her dress and then announced that she was ready. I closed her door and entered the driver’s side. "You know Jasmine, we are way too beautiful for this ole rust bucket. I have to get me some new wheels one of these days."

We went to a nice downtown restaurant. It was a dressier establishment, but the prices weren’t astronomical. Money was a bit tight for the two of us. The maitre’d escorted us to our seats and we received a few polite looks as we walked by. We sat opposite each other at a small, intimate table. The room was on the dark side and there was a small candle on our table. The flickering flame caused the light to dance off Jasmine’s jewelry and lips. The lip gloss she was wearing really made her lips look luscious. Almost kissable I thought. She was very attractive and I was beginning to become more attracted than I had anticipated.

The busboy came back and filled our water glasses. The waiter arrived and handed us a wine list. "It is my honor to serve two beautiful ladies this evening," he said as he gave us both a large and friendly smile. Would the ladies like a drink?"

"I think we will both have a glass of wine. Let me check the wine list first."

"Certainly," he said. "I am sorry but it is mandatory, may I see some ID?"

He looked at my driver’s license and handed it back with a smile. Jasmine handed him her license and the smile disappeared from his face. A rather gruff, "Oh, one of those," slipped out of his mouth. He dropped the license next to her plate and turned back to me, "I’ll return when you have read the menu."

The rest of the night he was cold and at times surly towards the two of us. He rarely talked to Jasmine, preferring to talk to her through me. We also seemed to get a lot of walk-bys and side looks from the rest of the staff. Half way through the meal I asked, "How is Jasmine enjoying her first evening out?"

She gave a little grimace and said, "I’m feeling awkward. Everyone seems to be interested in walking by and looking at me. I don’t really like it."

"Unfortunately, our waiter has a problem with your real sex. If it wasn’t for checking your ID no one would have known. But I think in a way it is very positive."

"How do you see that?"

"I think you are so beautiful that no one can believe you aren’t anything other than a beautiful woman. They’re walking by to see how passable and beautiful you are. In a way, I think you pass with flying colors!" That made her feel better.

"As soon as were done with the entrée, we’ll get out of here. We’ll check out some of the clubs and once were in, no one will think you’re anything but one hot chick. It’ll get better, I promise." And it did. We went to two upper-end clubs and after the bouncers checked IDs, there was not a single negative incident the rest of the night. But there were several fun incidents. The boys loved Jasmine, and Jasmine loved the accomplishment of fooling the boys.

Jasmine was indeed one hot chick and she got plenty of attention from the bachelors and bachelor wannabes. I had dressed much more conservative than Jasmine, and I had done that on purpose. I wanted her to get the attention when we reached the clubs, and my plan worked perfectly. Several times we were approached by a pair of guys, and the best looking one, the alpha-male, always went for Jasmine. A couple other times, a single guy came over and hit on Jasmine. She deserved the attention and her mood improved perceptibly as the night went on.

Twice we agreed to dance when asked, and we also danced a couple of dances together. Jasmine wasn’t very good at small talk, and I usually kept the conversation flowing. She was surprised at how fast the men moved towards physical contact. It startled her the first time a guy put his arm around her waist and led her towards the dance floor. After that, someone was always touching her arm or hand or even pushing her hair off her face. That actually made her the happiest. It was obvious that her extensions were passing the test.

As the night moved along, someone else was becoming more interested in Jasmine. That someone was me. I was starting to get turned-on and I wasn’t sure why. I knew that she was a he underneath, but on the surface she was a beautiful woman. She was really hot, but I had never been drawn towards a woman before. I couldn’t decide which side of her was pulling me towards her. I thought it was her physical male side, but I continuously thought about her female attractiveness. I liked the idea that men found her attractive and the women saw her as pretty. I found her hair sexy, her lips inviting, her figure shapely and her personality demure. I was confused as to why I was becoming excited when I saw her walk, or cross her legs, or flip her hair. But I too started to touch her more. I couldn’t resist. She was small in most features and looked very feminine. Why did I find that so attractive? I rubbed her arm when we talked. I touched her hair several times as I complimented her on her looks. I even reached down and squeezed her ass and called her Cally. I was subconsciously trying to seduce her. Maybe it wasn’t even subconscious. As the evening wore on I wanted her more and more. I couldn’t keep my hands off her.

I don’t know if Jasmine Cally realized what I was doing or not. Maybe she did, maybe her senses were satiated on everything going on; the men, the dancing, the soft clothes, the aroma of perfume and sweat, or the tickle of new curly hair brushing against the soft skin on her face and neck. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I thought she was responding to my attention. She smiled continuously, and her hand movements became more expansive as the evening wore on.

But the night eventually began winding down. The boys were asking for telephone numbers and offering rides or late night coffee stops. Boys and girls were starting to couple up, and the clubs were starting to thin out. It was time for us to go. Jasmine was so hyped on adrenaline that she wasn’t ready to leave yet. She was totally immersed in her role and she was loving every minute of the show. I decided to switch my role a little. "Jasmine, have you had a nice evening?"

"It’s been great. Other than the dinner problem, I have never had a better time," she effused.

"Well, I was wondering … would you be interested in a ride home or maybe … a late night coffee?"

"A coffee would be nice. I’m flying so high I don’t think I could land if I wanted to."

"May I walk you to my automobile then?"

"Certainly," and she offered me her arm. I wrapped my arm through hers and we leaned and bumped against each other as we walked to the car. When we reached the car we stopped in front of the passenger’s door. Before opening the door, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her tight against me. I slowly leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. I pressed my breasts against her breasts, my hips against her hips. When I opened my eyes, she was staring into them. I leaned back and a smile started to creep across her lips. "Maybe I don’t need a coffee," she said. Jasmine wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. She pressed her lips tighter against mine.

I broke our kiss and slid my hand down to her ass. I gave her a squeeze and murmured, "Maybe we should go home … to bed. It is getting late you know."

"Hmmmmm …" she agreed.

I opened her door and let her get situated before I closed it. I entered my side of the car and started it up. Jasmine said, "Just a second," and leaned over for a kiss. A gentle, sweet kiss on her beautiful soft lips. I could taste her lipstick and wondered why it tasted so sweet. I gave her knee a little squeeze and drove us home. We kissed all the way up in the elevator.

We held hands as we walked into her bedroom. I sat her down on the bed, and then crouched on the floor to remove her heels. I slid my hands up her right leg, feeling the smoothness of her stocking. She moaned ever so imperceptibly as I reached under the hem of her dress and found her garters. I snapped them open and gathered the top of them in my hands. I slowly pulled them down her leg as she shifted her weight onto her opposite hip, making it easier to slide down her stocking. I looked up and she smiled at me. I repeated the process with her other stocking.

I stood and offered her my hands. She took hold and I pulled her to her feet. I again wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her lips to mine. This time we kissed passionately, smearing our lipstick over each other. I broke our buss and saw the mess that I had made. I laughed softly and said, "Sweetie, you have to do a better job of putting on your lipstick."

Jasmine returned my smile and said, "I see you also have a problem. You must be lipstick challenged."

"Let me help you out of your dress, then you can use the bathroom first." I helped with her dress then sent her off on her way. I hung up her dress and put her shoes away. I returned to my room and stripped down. I put on a teal colored baby doll covered with lace appliqués. I was in a fog as I returned to Jasmine’s room and fell down on her bed. I had my eyes closed and was gently rubbing my stomach when I heard her return. I smiled and looked up, "You look awful tall from here. Have you grown?"

She tittered and mused, "I think I grew a lot tonight. Your turn." This time she offered me her hands and pulled me up to my feet.

I walked to the bathroom and washed my face. I opened my cold cream jar and scooped a glop into my fingers. I squished it between my fingers and then massaged into over my face. I was moving in slow motion, enjoying and concentrating on the soft and slick sensations. I felt as feminine as I had ever felt in my entire life. I was planning on making love to a beautiful woman and I still didn’t fully understand my emotions and feelings. I was confused, but I didn’t care. I was concentrating on my femininity and on Jasmine’s. I slowly scrubbed the cosmetics from my face, and then took a warm washcloth and wiped the residue from my tingling skin. I finished my routine and returned to Jasmine.

She was wearing a short, bright red negligee that barely covered her crotch. She was prone on her bed trying to look provocative. It wasn’t necessary and I told her so. "Jasmine, I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now. I would love to crawl on top of you and make love until you begged for mercy. But we have to do something first."

She gave me a puzzled look and said, "Oh my! I never thought about that. I don’t have any."

I smirked and said, "Don’t worry about that, sweetie. I have you covered ... literally. What I meant was I need to braid your hair so that we can pin it up. We spent too much money on your new hair, to take a chance of pulling it out when I make mad and passionate love to you."

"You’re too practical," and she laughed softly. She sat up on the edge of the bed and said, "On the other hand, I can’t think of anything more exciting than you running your hands through my new hair and braiding it. I’ve never had my hair braided, and I would love to enjoy one more exciting, new sensation."

I sat behind her on the bed and curled my legs under me. I removed two bands from my wrist and handed them to her. "Hand these back when I’m done." I gently pulled her hair behind her and carefully split it into three unruly strands. I then began weaving her hair into a loose braid. I thought I was back in grade school as I braided my best girl friend’s hair. "This is like a sleep over," I told her. "Like two grade school girls as they play hair styling on their sleepover."

"That’s neat," Jasmine answered. "I hope this ends up a bit more adult, though." We both giggled softly.

"Give me those bands," and I wrapped them around the end of her newly braided hair. "Get up," I said. I pulled the comforter down on her bed, and laid back her satin sheets. I held up the sheet and said, " Slip in here my little sweetie. I’ll tuck you in." She crawled into the bed and I pulled the sheet up to her chin. I gave her a kiss and said, " Sweet dreams my little sweetie."

"You’re not joining me?" she said disconsolately.

"Oh yes, you sexy thing. Oh yes. But let me get the light first. We’re going to practice anatomy by Braille. Do you see that condom package on your night stand? Unwrap it and leave it where you can reach it." She did as she was told. I flipped the light switch and carefully made my way to her bed. I slipped under the sheets and slid against her.

I gently kissed her and slid one hand across her negligee. I reached her breast and massaged and kneaded it. It felt almost real. I even used my finger to circle and caress her nipple. I slipped my tongue into her mouth and played with her tongue, as my hand continued down her stomach and reached her penis. It was fully erect and very sensitive. As soon as I touched it she reflexively pulled away. Then she relaxed and allowed me to gently rake my fingernails down its shaft. I could feel her penis jerk several times as the stimulation from my nails turned her into jelly.

"Hand me that condom, sweetie," and I unrolled it over her penis. I had never felt so sexy and horny and wet in my life. I slid my leg over her and shifted my weight on top. I pushed my wet crotch against her penis and positioned the shaft against my clit. I rubbed until my clit couldn’t handle the stimulation any longer. I lifted up on her, and let her penis slip into my wet pussy. She slipped in easily and felt so nice. Jasmine was not well endowed, and would never be mistaken for a Mikey. But by being on top, I was able to control her position and pressure and was able to satisfy my desires. I rocked back and forth, in and out and Jasmine quickly came. At least she lasted longer than Mikey. I continued pushing and thrusting harder and harder until I reached my orgasm.

I fell on top of her, exhausted and sweaty, and kissed her on her lips. I gave her one soft kiss after another, as I kept her penis trapped inside me. I kissed her lips and her cheeks, her forehead and her eyelids, her chin and nose.

I eventually rolled off Jasmine and landed on my back. Jasmine used her elbow to push herself up and lean over me. She continued to kiss me. "I loved that," she said. "I never dreamed I could enjoy something so much. I love you." And she continued to kiss me.

‘Oh, oh,’ I thought. ‘This will take some damage control. But tomorrow is soon enough.’ I let her continue to kiss me, and slowly start examining my body. Her hand slid over my negligee and reached my breast. It was her turn to caress my nipples. Eventually her hand reached down to my hem and slid underneath and up towards my breast. "Just a minute sweetie," and I pulled my negligee off. "That should make it easier, sexy."

Jasmine continued her anatomy lesson. I let her explore my entire body. I had to give her a bit of encouragement at times. "Don’t be afraid to use your lips and tongue sweetie. Kiss my nipple. Lick it." I eventually encouraged her to move down between my legs. She buried her nose in my crotch as I helped her explore my vagina with her tongue. I pressed my clitoris against her tongue when she finally found it. It felt wonderful. "Is your condom still on?" I whispered.

"Yes," she answered.

"Great, come up here." Jasmine gave me one more lick, then slid her self up and began pushing her penis against my pussy. Her aim was poor, and I reached between us and helped her enter me. Before she began thrusting, she kissed me. I could taste my fluids and smell my aroma on her lips. It caught me a bit by surprise. I had never tasted or smelled myself before. At first I didn’t like it. But as Jasmine began slowly, almost effeminately, pumping and thrusting into my pussy I began to become more aroused and started to respond to the taste and smell. I began to associate them with the pleasure I was beginning to feel. I decided I liked the smell. I liked the taste. I wanted them as Jasmine continued to thrust and pound against my pussy.

I had my arms wrapped around her back and I pulled her tight and rocked my hips in rhythm with her. She was being too gentle and I wanted more power. I wanted her to get rougher and stronger with me. I began pushing even harder and squeezing tighter. Jasmine received the message and began returning the pressure and force. She was lasting much longer than the first time and she was bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. I shuddered and clutched her as tight as I could. I clenched my teeth as I pulled her into me as the intensity rolled through me. I held my breath as my orgasm flowed through me, then exhaled in a loud gasp as I tried to catch my breath.

I had forgotten about Jasmine, but she must have cum at about the same time. She was breathing and panting just as hard as I was. We slowly caught our breath as Jasmine remained inside me. I squeezed my muscles and gave her penis a tug.

"I can feel that," she said.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, yea," she whispered. "I can feel it and it is wonderful. You are wonderful. You’re fantastic in fact. Thank you for the best night of my life."

I kissed her on her soft lips. "Jasmine, would you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Would you get off me? I can’t breathe." She laughed and rolled off me. "Jasmine?"

"Yea?"

"I have a confession to make."

"What?"

"I had a wonderful time also. Now, let’s lie here and just enjoy our closeness. I am so totally exhausted and I think I could fall asleep in a blink." I whispered. I quickly drifted off to sleep.

Jasmine was missing when I awoke. It took me a second or two to recall where I was, then I relaxed and smiled. I snuggled into the satin sheets and enjoyed their softness caressing my skin. It was only a few minutes later and I could smell bacon. I crawled out of bed and slipped into my baby-doll. I found Jasmine in her robe, hovering around the stove.

"Hi sleepy," she called over her shoulder. "Breakfast is almost ready. Take a seat." I sat at the table and watched her move around the kitchen.

"You’ll make someone a fine wife one day, Jasmine."

"I’m practicing my audition," she told me. She brought a plate of eggs, bacon and toast and set it in front of me. She leaned over and kissed me as she set the plate down. She brought her own plate to the table and sat opposite. "I had a wonderful time last night. Thank you so much."

I smiled and continued with my meal. "What would you like to do today?"

"I don’t know. Anything as long as I get to wear the right clothes," she smiled. The right clothes meant women’s clothes.

"Why don’t we go down to the lake edge? We can enjoy the sun, maybe stop by the aquarium and perhaps get in a little shopping."

"That sounds nice."

"We’ll go casual and you can get used to being in public. Work on your voice, and walk and stuff, ya’know."

"Great. I’d love that."

After breakfast I had her clean up and shave very close. As I was supervising her makeup application I said, "Ya know Jasmine, you might want to consider doing something about your beard."

"Like what?"

"Electrolysis. It’s not easy, but it would allow you to reduce the amount of foundation that you have to wear. For a casual day, you are going to look heavily made-up. You would be much more natural without all this makeup."

"But its expensive and takes a long time. I’ve read that some girls have two or three appointments a week and it still takes months to finish. And the money!"

"I know. You’ll have to wait until you are in a better financial position. Whatever happened to that $10,000 that your parents were going to give you?"

"The last I heard, they were still promising to send me the money, but that was a couple of weeks ago."

"Well, that would make it easy, wouldn’t it?"

"Yea. I hope it’s not just a dream."

After putting Jasmine into her normal foundation garments, I picked out a pair of white Capri pants for her. She chose a beige sweater with three quarter length sleeves. She wore knee high nylons and sandals. I had her let down her hair and brush it out. Her hair still had a little curl and body from yesterday’s styling.

We spent the rest of the morning walking along Lake Michigan. We walked through the Shedd Aquarium and then drove up to the Naval Pier for a light lunch and some additional strolling. After the Naval Pier we walked over to the downtown area and did a bit of window shopping. I let her try on a couple of darling dresses, but no money was spent. She couldn’t afford anything, and I was not keen on enlarging her wardrobe. My own wardrobe needed some business suits.

We returned to the apartment around 5:00. I suggested that we eat in and then go catch a movie. I had a couple of coupons from work that would save us a few bucks on the movies. After the movie, we walked over to a neighborhood bar. It was populated by twenty-somethings. It was primarily a sports bar that had a good singles atmosphere. There was no dancing. We talked with a couple of girls, and had a few boys try out their lines on us. We allowed two guys to sit with us and buy us a drink. While the guys were probably very serious, Jasmine and I were relaxed and open to flirting. We had no intention of doing anything with the guys, but the sexually charged banter was fun. We probably led them on more than we should have. It was a nice bar and I thought we would return in the future, so there was no reason to earn a reputation as a tease.

When we returned home we were both relaxed, and a bit tired. We had been on the go all day. We both completed our nightly cleansing routine and we both ended up wearing our sexiest negligees. We sat on the couch while I helped Jasmine practice braiding her own hair. She wasn’t very good and we giggled over the results. After getting a reasonable braid, we fell into each other’s arms and started kissing and making out. She had a raging erection and her negligee just couldn’t keep it covered. Her hem was so short, that no matter how many times she pulled it down, a bit of kissing and squirming and she popped right back out. She was small for guy, but being small was more of a turn-on for me than a large penis. It looked more appropriate and feminine when it kept peeking out from under her pink satin. It wasn’t long before she was on her back, lying on the couch while I licked and stroked her little cock. I soon brought her to climax, and I allowed her to spurt her semen over her bare stomach. She held her negligee up, while I got some Kleenex and I cleaned her up.

Afterwards I made her lie on the couch so I could watch her penis shrink after orgasm. It was an interesting sight and I was turned on by the process. As her penis shrunk, it kept oozing small amounts of semen and I would wipe the tip and keep it clean. It was rather interesting, and I was surprised by how small her flaccid penis was. It almost looked like a button on a fur coat. When it was small enough, and I was horny enough, I stroked her until she was again hard and ready for more. I unrolled a condom over her, then mounted her. I was extremely wet, and with her being so small, she had no problem slipping into me. I took my time bringing both of us to orgasm.

It was my first time for making love on a couch, and it was rather crowded and uncomfortable. I loved it. I was already thinking of new locations where I could take Jasmine. She was very good at being submissive, and I knew I would have no problem taking her whenever and wherever I wanted. It might even become a fun game, I thought. How risque could I get?

We spent the evening in her bed, with her tightly cuddled against my back and her arm over my waist. I enjoyed being held, even if it was by a girlie-boy.

Sunday was the end of her first weekend with hair extensions. We didn’t get dressed until almost noon. We spent the day much as we had Saturday. Jasmine dressed in a broom skirt and frilly blouse. We walked around the downtown area, window shopping and trying on a few dresses. I let her buy another set of pierced earrings, but held the line on all other spending.

Sunday night we did not make love. I sent her to her own bed and I slept in mine. I didn’t want her to think we were too much of a couple. Sleeping together every night would allow her to become too comfortable with the idea of ‘us’. I had decided that I was only going to sleep with her once or twice a week. I still wanted her thinking of us separately: me as in Jasmine (not Jason), and you as in Karen.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Getting ready on Monday, Jason checked out his new hair extensions in the bathroom mirror and smile apprehensively. Letting him do everything himself, I had him pull his hair back in a ponytail and attach a scrunchy up at the scalp. Doing it that way let his hair hang loose and show a bit of curl and swirl to it. As usual, I told him to wear bikini panties, thigh high stockings, and a pink, lacey camisole. Yellow gold studs were placed in his upper lobes, and I again had him wear one-inch gold hoop earrings in his lower lobes. He looked very cute. Under everything I had him start wearing Jasmine’s baby-powder deodorant. Driving to work, I enjoyed his fresh, feminine scent.

So it wasn’t surprising that it didn’t take long for the girls to notice Jason’s new look. Only minutes after arriving, Terri rushed into my office and whispered, "Did you see Jason’s new do?" Nodding yes, I giggled. She began laughing and said, "Jasmine is right, he is a swish. He’s starting to look and dress like a girl!"

"How do you think he did it?" I asked.

"A hair weave or extensions probably. They’re pretty common now days, and they don’t cost much." If she only knew how much I paid she would have fainted. "I can’t believe he had the nerve to wear it to work. What the shit, did he think no one would notice? I can’t wait for lunch."

"Why wait for lunch? Go talk to him now."

"I don’t think I could keep a straight face. I’ll wait ‘till everyone is there."

She turned to leave and I called her back, " Terri, I didn’t get a real close look. What does he look like? I mean does he look totally ridiculous or feminine?"

"Well I think he looks pretty stupid. But he is femmy to begin with. I’ll have to take a closer look at lunch."

I anticipated lunch all morning. I couldn’t wait to hear the conversation. The five of us gathered at Lisa’s desk before heading to the cafeteria. Jason showed up last, carrying his brown bag lunch. Lisa was the first to speak, "Jason, you have a new look. What did you do?"

"I’m going to be in a local play. My character called for long hair, so I had hair extensions put in this weekend. I’ll have to wear them for several weeks."

"Wow, they look real," said Jasmine. "How did they do it?"

"Why don’t we talk about this at lunch," I said. "I’m hungry."

We walked down to the cafeteria, Jason leading the way. The four of us girls walking behind smiling and pointing and swishing our hips as we walked. At the cafeteria we each picked up our food and rushed over to our table.

"So Jason, what exactly did you do?" Jasmine asked again. Jason went through the entire description of the operation.

"You went to a salon to have this done?" Lisa asked.

"Yea."

"A woman’s hair salon? I mean, not a theatrical salon?"

"Yea."

"Did you enjoy it?" asked Terri.

"Well it was a rather long and boring procedure."

"No, I meant did you like hanging with the girls?" Everyone giggled a bit. Jason turned pink and said nothing. "What play are you going to be in?"

Jason took the initiative to describe the plot and characters of Hair. He was informative enough that no one doubted the details of the play.

"I didn’t know you could sing."

"Yea, I’m ok. Not good enough for the lead, but good enough to be a back up."

"How do you take care of your hair?"

Jason listed the dos and don’ts that he had been given. He explained that he had to keep it in a ponytail or braided for sleeping.

"Braided? Can you braid your own hair?"

"Sort of. I’m not real good at it."

"You’ll have to wear it braided for us." More snickers and a round of ‘Yea, we want to see you in braids’ came from all the girls.

"I particularly like the earrings that you chose to go with your hair. Are those part of the play also?"

Jason took the opportunity to attribute the ear piercing to the play also.

"You look very pretty," Terri said. "Will you have to wear any other clothes for your play?"

"Well yea. There is no nudity in this play," he explained.

"No, I meant anymore girl’s clothing? A blouse or lipstick maybe?" Everyone laughed and Jason turned a deep shade of pink. He looked at me for help and I gave him a big smile.

Later in the afternoon, Jason picked me up for our afternoon break. He looked rather morose. When we reached the hall I said, "Jason, you look tired or something. Tough morning?"

"Yea, I’d say that," he said angrily.

"What’s the matter?" I asked soothingly.

"I didn’t appreciate the teasing at lunch. I felt like a freak show at the circus."

"No, you weren’t" I answered. "Why ever would you even say that?"

"You were there. You know. I was the center of abuse and teasing. Asking if I was going to wear lipstick. It was embarrassing."

"Well I’m sorry you feel that way. You know how those girls are. They love to tease and talk about people. That’s just the way they are. It’s not personal, it’s their lunch time entertainment."

"Well I don’t like being entertainment. And you didn’t say anything to help. You just sat there," he sniffed.

"Jason, I can’t say anything and you know it. We can’t let anyone know that were spending time together outside work. Especially those girls. They’ll tell everyone in the company. And you know what will happen if the company finds out, don’t you?"

"Yea, but it wouldn’t hurt you to give me a little morale support. I felt totally alone out there."

"You’re going to have to stand on your own two feet, Jason. If you want to become a beautiful girl, there is going to be a transition period and people are going to see it. You will have to get used to this."

He stopped walking and turned to me, "What do mean ‘become a girl’?"

"Isn’t that what you want?"

"No. I just want to pretend to be a girl in my own privacy."

"That’s not true, sweetie. If that were true you wouldn’t be wearing panties and camisoles to work. You wouldn’t have had your hair done. You wouldn’t have had your ears pierced. You’re the one that’s showing those off to the real world."

"Only because you made me. You threatened to expose me if I didn’t do these things."

"You’re rationalizing, Jason. You wanted to do these things, and that’s why you’re doing them. I gave you a weak excuse and you jumped on it. And I never said that I would expose you. You know I never said that." I stared into his eyes to make it clear that I meant what I said.

He turned and began walking down the hall. We were silent while I bought him his usual diet coke.

"Jason," I said, "you realize that this is what you want, right?"

"No, I never wanted to do this in public. If it hadn’t been for you, I never would have done any of this."

"And do you regret it? Did you regret it Friday night? How about Saturday on your stroll around Chicago? Did you regret it when you were trying on dresses or buying earrings?"

"I still wouldn’t be wearing this stuff in public if it wasn’t for you." He stopped and sighed. "You’ve got me all fucked up." He gave another big sigh, leaned against the wall and took a sip of his coke. "I just felt so alone. You never said anything. I hated it. I felt abused."

"Complain then,"

"What? To whom? And what exactly do I complain about? The truth?"

"You complain to your immediate supervisor, Lisa. And you don’t ever worry about the internal truth that you and I both know. The fact is you feel that you were the subject of abuse. Since you were the only guy at the table, I’d call it sexual abuse. You simply, and with no exaggeration, write an e-mail to Lisa and explain how you felt. Say that it makes it difficult to do your job when things like this happen. Don’t make a big deal out of it. And when you’re done, print off a copy and give it to me. It will help get your feelings in front of you, and it might help Lisa reign in the girls."

"I can’t do that. Nobody likes a whiner."

"That’s right. But they have to pay attention when an employee is being mistreated. Write the letter and send it. Do it as soon as you get back to your desk. Don’t wait, quit whining and do it. Got it?"

"I’m not sure."

"Do it!" I said. "What do you say to me when I tell you to do something?"

"Yes ma’am."

I smiled. "Let’s go back to the office."

Jason did write the letter and he did send it to Lisa. I waited for a comment form Lisa but never heard a word. Maybe she would say something tomorrow.

That evening Jason’s mood turned totally around. First off, he was dressed as Jasmine and that always made her feel better. Second, she received a call from her mom. The house sale had cleared and mom was going to give her the check for $10,000. She wanted to bring it to her and Jasmine panicked. She couldn’t let her parents see her with her new hairstyle. She hung up the phone and was a nervous wreck.

After explaining the situation to me I said, "This is easy Jasmine. Call your mother back and give her your savings account number. Tell her to have her bank send the money electronically. Tell your mom it is much safer than walking around with $10,000. Tell her you would feel much better if she didn’t carry that money with her. Let her know that you are only thinking about her."

"That might work," she agreed.

"You won’t know unless you try. Call her back right now."

Jasmine called her mom, and after some persuading she agreed. Jasmine was ecstatic. "This will solve all of my problems," she effused.

"No it won’t," I disagreed. "Remember I have power of attorney. I will decide what to do with the money."

"What are you going to do?" Jasmine asked.

"The same as usual. Fifty percent will be used to pay down your credit card balance. $5000 will get you down to about $1000 left. The other $5000 goes into your savings. You will use none of it for shopping. It will be saved for more important things."

"Like what?"

"Like electrolysis."

"Oh," and a smile spread across her face. "I like that idea. Will it be enough?"

"I don’t know, but that is what I suggest that you spend it on. The rest of your finances should remain as they are until you eliminate that credit card balance. And once the balance is gone, you pay as you go. If you can’t pay for a charge in one month, you don’t buy it. I will not allow you to crawl back into that debt hole."

"I agree." Jasmine walked over to me and gave me a hug. "You’re the best friend that I could have ever hoped to find."

"I know," I said modestly. "Now go get ready for bed. Wash your hair, and dry it thoroughly. Use your hair blower. And use conditioner when you wash it. Be careful when you comb it out, also. When you’re done, come show me." I patted her on the butt and sent her to the shower.

She returned almost 40 minutes later. She was already in her negligee and robe. I ran my fingers through her hair and sent her back to dry it some more. The next time she returned I complimented her on her nice look. "Sit here and I’ll braid your hair. I can do a nicer job than you. And tomorrow morning leave it braided."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to wear it to work that way."

"No. I can’t. I won’t. It looks way to girly. I‘ll get razzed by the girls."

"You told them you would wear it braided, sweetie. And if they do tease you, write another letter to Lisa."

"I never said that I would wear it braided. And I can’t keep writing letters to Lisa."

"I’m sure you promised to wear it braided, dear. Now just go to bed and we can continue this discussion in the morning." I wasn’t going to discuss it in the morning. Jason was going to wear braided hair to work. It would be so much fun.

The next morning I had Jason dress the same as Monday. He complained all morning about wearing his hair braided and I would not give in. I insisted. When I finally got him in the car he sulked all the way to work. I was anticipating an interesting day. Sure enough, Terri was in my office at 8:00.

She was grinning from ear to ear. "Did you see Jason?"

"Yes. What do you think?"

"I almost blew a gut muscle. How girly can you get? Braided hair? I can’t believe he did it!"

"Well, we did ask, remember?"

"If I asked you to dress like a whore, would you?"

I smiled, "Let me think about that."

"Yea. And if I told you to jump off a bridge you would do that too. I just can’t believe he did it. What does he think he is doing?"

"Trying to join the group?"

"You mean be one of the girls?" and she laughed again.

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe he has such low self esteem that he thinks this is how he can make friends. I don’t know, I’m just guessing."

"Well if that’s the case, he’s stupider than I thought. He’s looking like an idiot." Then she flashed a nasty grin, "Maybe we should tell him to wear a bra and lipstick next." She left my office laughing. At least Terri was going to have an amusing day. I wondered what the others would say.

Jason never left his cubicle all morning. When we stopped by for lunch he refused to go. "I’m really busy girls and I want to catch up on some work."

"Come on, Jason. You need to take a break and get away from this."

"If you don’t you’ll get all stressed out."

"No, I really have to do this."

"Ok. By the way, I really like your hairstyle. Did you braid it yourself?"

"No … er … yea I did." He almost gave away the fact that he was getting help.

"It’s very cute. It looks much better than a pony tail," Lisa said

"Yea, I agree. You should wear it this way all the time. It’s very becoming."

"It looks good on you. Very appropriate," Jasmine added.

The four of us left for the cafeteria. As soon as we were out of Jason’s hearing the rips began. "Swish. Gay. Fairy. Queer. Sissy. Pretty boy." Lunch was a continuous dialog about Jason. He replaced Linda as the favorite target of abuse. A couple girls from other departments came by to ask if what they heard was true. They wanted to know if they could stop by the department later in the afternoon to see what he looked like.

"No problem," answered Terri. "Just call me and I’ll let you through security. You’ve never seen anything so weird in your life. What a sicko."

That afternoon was a steady stream of visitors through the law department. Both men and women showed up, and Terri and Jasmine were happy to show them through. Jason couldn’t help but notice. But no one said anything so he couldn’t complain.

Wednesday and Thursday he was again too busy to join us for lunch. But the visitors started to trickle off and by Friday he didn’t feel like such a celebrity and agreed to join us for lunch at the cafeteria. The girls weren’t too subtle with Jason.

"Jason, do you know how to do a French braid. I think that would like really pretty on you."

You should wear it down one day. I’d love to see you wear it long. Do you curl it?"

"I think we should have a slumber party. We can sleep over and spend the night doing each other’s hair. Jason, do you have a nice negligee? All the girls have to wear pretty nightgowns."

Terri noticed his nails. "Oh my god! Jason, your nails!" Jason quickly hid his hands under the table. Terri reached over and pulled one of his hands up onto the table. "Your nails are so long. They’re very fashionable. Do you do them yourself?"

"Those are really nice Jason. And you do them yourself? How do they look with polish?"

"It looks like you have clear nail polish on them Jason. No! Do you polish them?"

"How precious. I bet they look great with red on them. What color do you prefer Jason?"

"We have got to have a sleep over. We can polish nails as well as style our hair."

"Jason, I’m so impressed. New hair, stylish hoop earrings and now manicured nails. How feminine."

"And don’t forget that camisole. I’ll bet it’s really pretty. Does it have lots of lace, Jason?"

Jason turned redder and redder. He left half way through lunch. I couldn’t blame him. The girls were very rough on him. On the way back to my office I made a point of stopping by his desk. "Write the letter, and make sure that you give me a copy," I whispered.

He refused to go out for a coke later, so I brought him one and gave it to him at his desk. He glared at me and said thanks. Then he handed me a copy of his letter.

Jason and I worked until 6:00. Everyone else had left. I went to pick up Jason at his desk and he silently followed me to the car. As soon as we were in the car he started crying. Huge sobs and tears. He was racked with wave after wave of crying. I thought I knew what the problem was, and I said nothing. I quietly drove us to my apartment.

When we reached the apartment he disappeared into his room and slammed the door shut. I could hear him crying behind the closed door. Maybe I had gone a little too far this time. I was starting to feel just a bit guilty. I started to rationalize my thoughts, and then decided that I was too hungry for that.

I called up the pizza shop and ordered a large pizza. They said it would take 40 minutes. That gave me enough time to run down the street and buy some beer. I was back in plenty of time to catch the delivery boy. I set up plates and napkins in the kitchen, then went to Jason’s room. I softly knocked on the door, but received no answer. I turned the door handle slowly and pushed the door open enough to stick my head inside. "Jason," I called. He was lying on his bed facing away from the door.

"Jason. I have beer and pizza. You must be as hungry as I am. Come eat with me."

Nothing.

"Sweetie, I know you have to be as hungry as me. Can’t you smell it?"

Still no answer.

"Listen, lying in here and sulking won’t accomplish anything. I know you’re hungry. Come out to the kitchen, have some pizza and drink a beer. It’s good for you. We can talk." I grabbed his arm and rolled him over to face me. His eyes were red from the crying. I leaned over and kissed him. "I think the world of you Jason. Come on, it’s time to talk. And eat. I have MGD and Leinenkugels. Which would you prefer?"

"Leinie,"

"Go wash your face then come out. Ok sweetie?"

I returned to the kitchen and opened a couple of beers. Jason came out about 5 minutes later. He quietly sat down and I placed a piece of pizza on his plate, and slid his beer over to him. He munched and sipped quietly for a few minutes. "This was the worst week of my life. I was totally humiliated."

"But you received $10,000. That’s not bad," I said. "You can do something now that you’ve always wanted to do."

"Really? And how do you know that? How do you know what I want?"

"I think you’ve made that pretty clear, sweetie. I just listen and watch, but you do tell me what you want. You get your message across."

"Did I tell you that I wanted my life destroyed and to be totally humiliated?"

There was no need to answer rhetorical questions. I merely waited for his next comment.

"Every guy in the building must have walked by the last couple of days to laugh at me behind my back. Everyone of them has absolutely no respect for me anymore."

"Sweetie, so what?"

"So what? So I look like a total jackass."

"It makes absolutely no difference at all. Come on, what did you think was going to happen? Did you think you were going to make friends with those idiots and become best buddies? Go out bar-hopping, beer-drinking and skirt-chasing? It wasn’t going to happen. You know that. Deep down inside that isn’t you. You’re better than that. You have more respect for yourself and others than to crawl down into their manure."

"And you heard what the girls said. Do you have a negligee? Do you style your hair? Its like they know everything."

"You’re reading way too much into their statements. They have no idea who or what you are. They were merely acting like they always do."

"Now they sure as hell think I’m gay, thanks to you."

"Oh sweetie, it’s way too late for that. They’ve thought you were gay since the day you started work. I had nothing to do with that."

He looked at me and shook his head no. "That’s not true," he muttered.

"Yes it is. I’m not lying. On my very first day they all pointed you out and asked if I thought you were gay. I said no, but they all disagreed. Jasmine has called you a ‘swish’ since the day I started."

"No. That can’t be." He was shaking his head side to side to emphasize his wishing.

"Yes, it is."

"But I thought that underneath their jokes they kind of liked me. Especially Jasmine."

"Jasmine’s the worst. She makes the harshest comments about you."

"But why did they think I was gay?"

"Because you aren’t a macho guy, Jason. You know that. You can admit that. It isn’t bad, it’s just the way it is. I lived with a lesbian roommate for a couple of years, and we went to gay bars all the time. I got pretty good at figuring out who was who, and who was what. I could tell from the first day we met that you weren’t gay. But I didn’t guess that you were a transvestite. You hid that pretty well.

"In retrospect I might have figured it out. Jason, you have many feminine traits that are part of you. You have a beautiful face. You have a small, cute nose. There is no way it can be taken as macho. Your face is soft and round like a beautiful girl’s, rather than oval and hard shaped like a guy’s. Your hands are small and you are thin, which makes you more feminine than masculine. And with the proper clothing and make-up, you are very feminine. You are pretty, you’re cute, and you’re beautiful.

"Why did they think you were gay? Because they couldn’t read you. They were confused by the way you look and they way you move. They didn’t have the experience to read you the way that I could. Well except for Jasmine."

"What about Jasmine?"

"Jasmine is gay. She’s a lesbian. She probably should have been able to see that you weren’t gay."

"Jasmine is a lesbian? I don’t believe that."

"Oh believe it, sweetie. She hit on me all the time. I had to take her to Glitter and introduce to Gloria so Gloria could set her straight, so to speak. Yes, she is a lesbian."

"But if she is a lesbian, why would she be so ruthless behind my back? If anyone should have some compassion I would think she would understand."

"Probably because she doesn’t want anyone to know about her. She rationalizes what she does and in turn becomes the worst of the lot. Look at how many congressman have been the loudest screamers against gays, and it turns out they themselves are gay. How do you explain that? I don’t know."

"So, I never had any friends at work?"

"No, I don’t think you did. You just didn’t fit anyone’s stereotype. You became the outcast that everyone makes fun of. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. You can see it now can’t you?"

He munched on his pizza and slowly nodded. He drained his beer and went to the refrigerator for another. "What an idiot. I’ve been a joke all along, haven’t I?"

It was my turn to nod my head.

"So what do I do? Do I quit and start over?"

"Where would you go? There are no jobs out there. And what difference would it make? Would you change? Would others change? I doubt it. You would be in the same position you’re in now."

"You’re probably right. I have tried to change before. I’ve tried to be more athletic like my brother. I’ve tried to go out with the guys and act crude and chase girls. But I was never any good at it. It never lasted more than a week or two and I was back to dressing as a girl in my locked bedroom."

"You are what you are, Jason. Let me ask you something. Do you want to be something else or do you want to be what you are?"

"I guess I don’t have much choice, really."

"It’s your decision. I can help. But you have to decide. I’ve been doing what you wanted. Whether you want to admit it or not."

"Yea, I guess your right. I never fought very hard against what you did. I sort of liked it."

"Sort of?"

"I loved it. It’s what I always wanted. I’ve always dreamed of a beautiful woman forcing me to become a girl."

"I’m not forcing you Jason. I ask for cooperation, cooperation that I think you owe me. You want this and I’m merely your facilitator. Asking for cooperation isn’t asking for so much, is it?"

"No."

"Good. Eat you pizza and let’s have another beer. We’re not going out tonight so we can get a little tipsy and tell the world to screw itself."

"And tomorrow I can dress like a girl."

"You bet you can. Just remember, I call the shots." I gave him a smile, a ‘prost’ and we both downed our beers. That night, as I headed to bed alone, I couldn’t help but think about how high-maintenance Jasmine was. I wondered if all transvestites took this much attention and coddling.

On Saturday I decided to dress Jasmine to the nines and take her out trolling for men. Not that she needed a man, but she needed a real boost to her self-confidence. I was sure that I could accomplish that. I also realized that she was getting lax and sloppy in her appearance, and I had to re-establish some guidelines. After breakfast I sent her to the shower. "Wash you hair and make sure you use conditioner. Don’t dry your hair. Wrap it in a towel and I’m going to give you a wet set. And don’t shave your face yet. We’ll do that when we’re closer to make-up time."

When she returned from her shower I gave her an inspection. "Jasmine, you’re getting incredibly sloppy."

"What?"

"Look at your legs! You call that shaving? I can see stray hairs all over! Show me your pits. Ugh! Go back to the shower and shave your legs and your pits. And you chest as well! We don’t want hair getting in the way of your adhesive. Go!" I pushed her back towards the shower.

She returned with bits of toilet paper on her legs. "Listen, unless you are totally incompetent, and I don’t think you are, the reason you’re cutting your legs is because you have a dull blade. Don’t be so lazy that you can’t climb out of the shower and change blades. Understand?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Well remember that. Now come back into the bathroom." I slid in a directors chair and had her take a seat facing the mirror. "Now pay attention. I’m going to set you hair. I’m not very good, at least I’m not very good at styling. But watch how I put in your curlers, where I put them and how I use setting gel. We don’t use much, just a tad bit."

I situated her in front of the mirror, took off her towel and blotted her hair. "Remember, no rubbing with the towel. Blot, comb and then use a hair dryer. But I’m not going to use a blow dryer. I’ll set your hair and then you can wear the curlers in your hair the rest of the day. You’ll like the way they feel as they begin to dry and pull your hair tight. It’s very sexy."

I combed through her hair and eliminated all of the tangles. I parted her hair down the center , then starting on her right side, I took the tail of the comb and sectioned a small amount of hair next to her crown. "We will start at the crown and work our way around. First I smeared a bit of styling gel on the hair, then I took a smaller, one-inch curler and rolled the sectioned hair with the curler rolling up under her hair. "See? Don’t roll it too tight. It pulls on your hair and worse, on your extensions. Watch again."

Working towards the back, I sectioned another bit of hair, spread a very light bit of gel and again rolled the curler under the hair. I pushed a pin through it and then held the mirror so she could see what I had done. "See?"

"Yea."

"Keep them close, and geometric. Not too tight." I sectioned the third part and rolled it. I worked my way around to the back of her head, then returned to the front and started the second row. Half way around the second row I again held up the mirror. "See how I’m doing this?"

"Yes."

"Do you like what I’m doing?"

"Oh yes. I especially like the smell. It’s very intoxicating."

I continued to section, gel, roll and pin. I finished the right side of her head and moved to the left. "Now I’m not going to pretend that I know what I’m doing. This might not work at all, but I’m going to try and be creative. I’m going to try and set the front of your hair so that it can be combed over the front of your forehead towards the other side. It might work and it might be ugly. If it doesn’t work, we can correct it later with a curling iron."

I sectioned the first part of hair at the crown in front, and this time I rolled the curler on top of the hair. Instead of working towards the back, I worked down the front. I rolled the second curler in the opposite direction also. The third curler returned to the under side like the rest.

I finished curling all of her hair, then placed a hair net over all the curlers. "There you go, sweetie. We will let it air dry for the rest of the afternoon as we get ready for tonight. Let’s go do our nails." We collected our bottles and files and cotton balls and sat down on the living room floor. I started by sitting her against the couch while I used acetone to remove the polish on her toes.

Next I pulled the coffee table between us and I sat across the table from Jasmine, and one by one I filed and shaped her nails. I had her do two nails on each hand. She wasn’t too bad with her left hand, but she wasn’t very good with her right. I applied a red polish with flecks of sparkles and glitter. It was very disco.

While she sat with her hands in her lap, I pushed the table away and began on her toes. I took cotton balls and stuffed them between each toe. One by one I used the same polish on her toes. When I finished I was starting to get thirsty. "Want a coke?"

"Sure."

By the time I returned and we had chatted for a few minutes, it was my turn. "Be careful, your nails are dry but not hard. Just move slowly and lightly." I had her do my fingernails and then my toes. I used the same polish as Jasmine. "Tonight we can be twins, sort of," and we laughed together. She was in a much better mood than Friday night. Playing at her hobby made her happy and she forgot about her pains and problems. She was truly happiest as she transformed into a butterfly. We gave each other a second coat. "Not too heavy. Wipe off the brush and apply a light coat. It will dry slower and you don’t want it to look lumpy," I instructed.

We allowed the polish to dry and then put away our tools of the trade. "Let’s take a little nap," I suggested. No clothes, we’ll just slip under the sheets and take a short nap. We snuggled together and I asked, "Do the curlers in your hair bother you?"

"They do feel awkward. A little hard to get used to, but I love it."

"You look really sexy, lying there with your hair in curlers and your nails brightly polished and all pretty. All that is missing are your breasts."

"I could put them on," she offered.

"No, no. You have an appetizing androgynous look without them. You look sexy in a very unique way."

"I feel sexy." She was quiet for a minute as if she were trying to decide something. "I would love to give myself to you."

Submissive. What a good girl. "I don’t want to crush your hair and curlers. Instead of me mounting you, I’d like to crawl between my legs and pleasure me with your tongue. Do you think you could do that?"

"Yes ma’am." She slid down between my thighs and gently kissed me on the inside of each thigh. Then she rubbed her nose in my pubic hair and took a deep breath. "I love the smell of you. It is so erotic and sexy. Your pheromones turn me on like crazy." She really knew how to turn a phrase. She slipped her tongue into my slit and began to lick my pussy. I leaned back and enjoyed the sensation. I let her bring me to orgasm twice. I bucked and jumped and almost knocked out one of her front teeth.

I rolled over on my stomach and instructed her to take me from behind. I spread my legs so she could lie between them and slide her penis into my pussy. She still had poor aim, and I had to reach behind and guide her little penis into my pussy. She couldn’t directly stimulate my clit, so I was able to prolong my orgasm and come at a nice leisurely rate. Jasmine came right away, but I kept her working away until I was satisfied.

That was when I realized that I had let her enter me without a condom. ‘Oh shit,’ I thought. ‘ I hope I’m not fertile.’

We slept for a bit longer than an hour. We got up and wrapped our robes around us. I got us some fruit and cokes, and we sat on the couch, curled up like lazy cats, and we talked like girls. We talked about the latest fashions worn by the celebrities on TV and in the latest Cosmo. Her face was animated and smiles spread effortlessly across it. Her eyes twinkled and even without makeup she looked very pretty. With make-up, she could be irresistible to the boys … and me.

We attached Jasmine’s breast forms, and then I sent her to the bathroom to shave off her facial stubble. While she shaved, I dressed for the evening. I went through her closet and picked out a sexy little number for myself. It was a short, silk dress in electric blue. It had spaghetti straps and fit snugly through the waist and hips before flaring out to a straight skirt.

When she finished shaving and the bleeding had stopped, I dressed her all in red. She had a beautiful red underwire bra, and bright red bikini panties. The only non-red items were her padded panty girdle and corset. I pulled the corset especially tight, giving her a very thin waist. She wore a short red slip. I picked out a short, sexy dress from her closet. The dress had long sleeves that flared into wide, lacey lower sleeves. The neckline was square cut, but a bit lower than normal. It had a cinched, form fitting waist that accented her tiny waist, and made her hips look wide and sexual. The silk skirt had a short hemline, ending about an inch above the knee. She was going to have to be careful sitting and there would be no leg crossing tonight. It would be good training.

Then to make everything one degree more difficult, I found a pair of red, 4-inch heels. I myself never wore 4-inch heels. They were feet killers, besides being extremely difficult to walk in. If she wasn’t careful she could break an ankle. They were open-toed and had a high ankle strap which helped with her stability. The perfect shoe for the evening. She wouldn’t be able to run away from me. I smiled at that thought.

I supervised her make-up and we went for a much more dramatic look. I had her darken her eyebrows more than usual. She applied a darker shade of rose around her nose and under her brows. Then we applied a dark violet across her lids and a heavy dose of charcoal across her crease. I had her also apply a thin line of charcoal around the upper and lower lashes. Then she used a brush to smear and soften the charcoal liner. Next, I applied a black liquid liner around her lashes, outlining her eyes to make them sleek and almost oriental. She curled her lashes and applied mascara.

I surprised her with a pair of glittery false lashes. "Oh my," she exclaimed. "These are pretty wild."

"Aren’t they," I said as I applied a bead of adhesive to each. "We’re going to make you the sexiest girl at the party," I said.

I outlined her lips with a bright red color. I made them wider than usual. Then I had Jasmine color them in with the same bright red color. It was very obvious what signals she was sending to the world. She looked hot and certainly not conservative. I wouldn’t say she looked like a cheap hooker. No, she didn’t look cheap at all. I finished her look by brushing a light amount of glitter around her eyes and on her temples.

All she needed now was a pretty hairstyle. I wasn’t sure if I could pull that off or not. She sat in the director’s chair and faced the mirror as I removed her curlers. She wanted to leave the curls and not bother brushing out the style. They did look curly and fun, but they didn’t look finished. I brushed out her hair, and flipped the front curls over the rightside of her forehead. It worked ok. It wasn’t a great styling job, but it looked decent. The flip over her forehead definitely made the style. It gave her a nice flirty look.

She put on her new drop, rhinestone earrings, and a loud rhinestone necklace. We rounded out the jewelry with more rhinestones on her bracelets. And tonight, I didn’t let her wear any rings. I wanted everyone to know that Jasmine was unattached.

Jasmine was ready. Watch out world, Jasmine was coming out. Turn up the lights and music, step back and warn the boys. Only real men need apply.

We drove to one of the up-scale clubs in the downtown area. We were so hot that we weren’t even carded. A first for us. As soon as we entered the club, I took Jasmine’s hand and led her to the girls’ restroom. It was crowded and we had to wait for the stall I wanted. It was the last stall against the wall. It was for the handicapped and was larger than the others. It had a sink and mirror inside, along with the toilet.

We both entered the stall and I locked it behind us. I set our purses on the back of the toilet, then I reached under Jasmine’s dress and pulled her panty girdle down. Her red panties came down together with the padded girdle. She looked at me with total surprise in her eyes. I held a finger over my lips and gave her a shush. I placed my hands against her shoulders and gently pushed her down on the toilet seat. I lifted the hem of her dress and had her hold it up. Her penis was erect and standing at attention.

I searched through my purse and found a condom. I took the rubber out of its tinfoil and rolled it over Jasmine’s cock. Next I pulled down my panties and stepped out of them. Facing Jasmine, I lifted my dress, straddled her and sat on her lap, carefully coaxing her penis into my pussy as I sat down. I gave her a wicked grin then started squirming back and forth, squeezing her penis with my vaginal muscles and sending shivers through both of us. I eventually started sliding up and down on her cock, squeezing with my muscles and enjoying the sensation and thrill of our coupling. It didn’t take long for both of us to cum. I sat on her lap for about another minute as we tried to quietly regain out breath. I reached over Jasmine’s shoulder and pulled a tampon out of my purse. "She why we carry these?" I said as I showed it to her. I stood and quickly slid it inside me. I stepped away from Jasmine and pulled on my panties.

Jasmine was still holding her dress so it wouldn’t touch her wet cock. I pulled off her condom, took some toilet paper and wiped her dry, then held her dress up while she pulled on her red panties, followed by her padded panty girdle. She reached inside her panties and quickly tucked her now flaccid penis between her legs. We looked at each other and decided that we were presentable. I gave her a grin, flushed the toilet and we left the stall. Several girls noticed the two of us exit the stall, but no one had any clue as to what we had just done.

Back in the club, Jasmine started laughing. "That was incredible. Have you no shame or modesty?"

"No, I don’t. That was so much fun, I’m going to have to start thinking about other places to screw you," I smirked. "I’m thirsty, let’s get a marguerita."

At the bar, two men bought us our drinks. We never bought a drink the entire evening. We were dressed to kill and every testosterone drenched male in the club was interested in the two sexiest girls in the building. The men in the club were pretty good looking themselves, and since we had our pick of the club, I picked two of the very best. They were in their mid-twenties, tall, muscular, well tanned and handsome. They were both dressed very nice and carried themselves as if they had money. Leonard was a stockbroker and his friend Kenny was an investment banker. I gave Jasmine the best looking one, Leonard.

They were both very entertaining and charming, and good dancers. We spent much of the evening on the dance floor and I don’t know how Jasmine kept up in the 4-inch heels that she was wearing. I was constantly worried that she would twist an ankle, but she did just fine. I wondered how Jasmine would react to the men’s attention, but she loved it. She let Leonard paw her and touch her constantly. She even held his hand when they were sitting at the table.

After one slow dance where he held her tight, she suggested we powder our noses. "I couldn’t believe it," she complained. "He pressed his crotch against me the whole time and I could feel his penis pressed against me. He had a hard-on."

"Was he big?"

"That’s disgusting."

"It’s your fault Jasmine. You’re so sexy you just turned him on. You’re too hot and sexy for your own good."

"Men are too crude and vulgar," she responded.

"Well maybe so sweetie, but I don’t see you complaining. I see you holding hands and flirting with him. If you don’t like the attention, tell him."

"That’s the problem, I like being told that I’m pretty."

"Are you going to sleep with him?"

"Ugh! Absolutely not. I’m no homo."

"Then maybe you shouldn’t be leading him along like you are. Flirting is one thing, but you’ve given him a lot of physical contact all night. Your body language is sending all the right signals to him. You’re asking for sex."

"I am?"

"Don’t play innocent missy. You know you are and you’re loving his response. You’re playing with fire, and if you don’t want to get burned, you better turn down the flame."

When we returned from the restroom, Jasmine cooled down. She didn’t dance with him any more and she stopped all the patting and pawing they had been indulging in. Towards the end of the night, the guys asked if they could take us home. I wanted to take my boy home and screw him, but Jasmine quickly said no. I did give Kenny my number. Jasmine was nice enough for a little diversion, but I was still interested in finding a real man.

Jasmine and I returned to our apartment and cleaned up. I gave Jasmine a good night kiss as I headed towards my room. "May I join you?" she asked quietly.

"I’m sorry Jasmine. I want to keep my room strictly for myself. I need a place to be alone."

"How about sleeping in my room then?" she offered.

"Sweetie, we screwed twice today. Besides, I’m tired. Goodnight." I was tired and I did want to keep my room to myself. But I also wanted to reinforce the notion that we were not a couple. If it hadn’t been for Jasmine, I would have brought Kenny home for a one-night stand. I was still dreaming of extra-large size men and didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with a petite-sized sissy.

CHAPTER NINE

Monday we returned to work, and I gave Jasmine a little slack. Since last week had been so difficult on her, I allowed her to wear her hair in a ponytail, rather than braided. The week passed with little fanfare, and we enjoyed another weekend as the sexy twins. We went to two different clubs on Friday and Saturday, and once again attracted our share of good looking men. Jasmine was learning to become a real flirt. I warned her about going too far, but I couldn’t get too angry with her. I was amazed how a dress and lipstick turned her from a mouse into a lioness. When Jasmine went out, she was much more confident and extroverted than Jason could have ever hoped to be. It was like Jekyll and Hyde.

That week Jasmine did some calling around and found an electrologist that she liked. She began spending her mother’s gift on Jasmine rather than Jason. Three times a week she went to the salon and had her facial hair removed. It took several of weeks before I could notice a big difference. At the end of the day it was almost impossible to see any stubble on Jason’s face. He never had much facial hair to begin with, but even so he started to look softer and cleaner. And Jasmine’s face felt much softer when we snuggled during our sex romps.

We continued for another week in our routine, had another great weekend and then I decided to shake things up. It was time to start pushing Jasmine. She would have to come out eventually. On Monday morning while she was in the bathroom, I laid out Jason’s new wardrobe. He was going to wear high cut panties, a corset, camisole, stockings attached to the corset garters, one inch loafers and a pair of women’s slacks. (No socks, just stockings.) They weren’t just any slacks either, they were clearly women’s style. They were tan, with a side button and zipper, and elastic in the waist. They had no pockets, two pleats in the front and a straight, crisp crease down to the cuff on each leg. They were fairly tight in the rear, and his panty lines would be evident to everyone.

Jason’s first response was predictable. "No."

"You have no choice," I reminded him. "I want you wearing your full compliment of under garments, and with the corset your waist is too thin for any of your boy dockers."

"I have jeans that I can wear."

"No, you can’t wear jeans except on dress-down Fridays. You are going to have to wear women’s slacks."

"No," he whined again. "I can’t handle the abuse."

"Listen," I told him. "It’s about time you found some spine. Decide what is important in your life and do it. Stand up for yourself, accept the consequences, and move on. Quit running away all the time. Now get dressed. I’m leaving in ten minutes, with or without you."

We left on time, with Jason wearing the clothes that I had instructed him to wear. He spent the entire morning and lunch at his desk. I think he ran to the bathroom after everyone else had left for the cafeteria. At 2:30 Jason was still sitting at his desk. I stopped by his desk and ordered him to join me. We walked out of the law department and into the hall. I caught a couple of the girls watching us as we walked out.

"This sucks," he said. "You’re sadistic. You must love hurting people and trying to destroy their lives."

"That’s pretty mean yourself, Jason. I find it hard to believe that the Jasmine I enjoy being with on the weekends is the same person that cringes through work during the week. I’m merely forcing you to deal with yourself. With your own desires. It seems you can’t do it."

"You’re forcing me to do something that I would never do on my own. Something that I don’t want to do. I would be perfectly happy living as Jason during the week and Jasmine on the weekends. That is what I want."

"No it’s not. You know it inside. You’d regret that decision and you know it. Maybe not right away, but eventually. As your life settled into a boring routine with no real friends, you’d start to ask your self if the blandness was worth the price."

He stopped and got in my face, "Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you the expert on my life? How do you know what I want or how I feel? Who gave you the right to run my life? Or ruin it?"

"You gave me that right. You asked for it. You agreed to it. And sweetie, I know I’m right." I continued walking towards the vending machines. I stopped and turned around to where Jason was still standing, "And you know I’m right."

Jason turned and walked back to the office. When I returned, I set a diet coke on his desk and went to my office. Jasmine and Terri popped in less than 10 minutes later. "Oh my god, did you see what the little fruit is wearing today? I can not believe that he would have the nerve to wear those pants."

"It’s unbelievable. You can see his panty lines clear as day. And he doesn’t have any socks even. He’s wearing stockings. No wonder he hid all day."

"How could any man wear those into his place of work? It’s disgusting. It’s sick."

"Those are definitely women’s shoes. Panties, camisole, stockings pants and shoes."

"Don’t forget the hair style, hoop earrings and long nails. He’s a transvestite. And he has the nerve to wear those clothes in here. It’s despicable."

I let them rant for a while then intervened. "He can wear what he wants. I don’t think there is any law that says he can’t wear those clothes."

"No he can’t," said Jasmine. "There is a dress code and it says ‘appropriate’ clothing. Women’s clothing is not appropriate when worn by a man. Or whatever he is."

"I think you have to bring it up with his management. You have to lodge complaints with Lisa."

"Are you sticking up for him?"

"I’m just giving my opinion. You can’t harass him just because you don’t like his choice in clothing. Can you?"

"Wanna bet? Just watch us." The girls left and didn’t return the rest of the day. I found out what they were up to on the drive home.

I worked until 6:30 before I closed up my files. I found Jason sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. "Hey Jason, ready to go?" He just looked at me, his eyes were bloodshot and wet. He had been crying again. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Oh I’m just fucking swell. Your fucking bitches managed to make my life a living hell this afternoon."

"What did they do?"

"What the hell do you care? I’m the one that has to step up to life and take the consequences. You can sit in your little ivory tower and stay immune from the real world out here." He started sniffling.

"Listen, I want you to write an e-mail to Lisa right now and complain about what they did."

"What difference will that make? She’s one of them."

"I’m going back to my office and when you’ve finished writing the letter, print a copy and bring it to me. I want to review it before you send it off. We’re not going home until you write that letter. I’ll be waiting in my office." I waited for almost an hour before Jason brought in the letter. His eyes looked a little better. He threw a Kotex on my desk and flipped the letter on top of it.

"What’s this?" I asked.

"That’s the Kotex that Jasmine threw on my desk after I called her a closet lesbian. When she threw it on my desk she said something like, ‘The little sissy must be on the rag. Here you go girly boy, here’s a new rag for you.’ It got rather ugly out there, but then you wouldn’t know or care."

"I’m sorry Jason. I do care, believe me, but it doesn’t change my mind and it shouldn’t change yours. She threw a Kotex on your desk? That’s great," I said with a chuckle.

"What makes that so great?" he demanded.

"Don’t you see, Jason? You pissed her off. You fought back and pissed her off. Congratulations, you found your backbone. Sit down and give me a couple of minutes, I want to read this letter of yours." I took out my red pen and made a few corrections on the letter and gave it back to Jason. "You can take or leave my suggestions. Send it off to Lisa and copy Mr. Kleber in HR. Print off another copy for me please. And bring back that copy I wrote on. I need to make sure that it is disposed of correctly."

Jason took the letter and left for his desk. "Wait," I yelled. "Come back."

"What?" he asked.

"I changed my mind. Don’t copy Kleber in HR. Not yet."

"Ok," and he left. He returned about 15 minutes later with the old copy and the new copy. I filed the new copy and on our way to the elevator I stopped in the mail room and shredded the old copy.

On the way home I stopped and bought a 12 pack of Jason’s favorite beer, MGD. Jasmine and Karen drank over half of it Monday night as we watched football.

Tuesday morning I laid out Jason’s clothes for the day. "Not again," he complained when he saw them. "Can’t you cut me a break just once?"

"The war has been engaged. You were great yesterday, you can’t quit now."

"Easy for you to say. It’s not your life that’s being destroyed. I hate going into work. I got sick to my stomach this morning. I know it has to be caused by the work stress. I want out in the worst way, but where in the world can I find a job in this economy? This sucks."

"That’s really too bad Jason, sweetie. We can stop and get some Pepcid AC on the way to work. That should help your stomach."

"BFD."

Tuesday was worse for Jason. By now everyone in the building knew what he was wearing, and there was a steady parade of tourists coming through the office. None of them said anything derogatory, in fact most just gawked and left. A few tried to make small talk so they could spend more time studying his clothes. He heard plenty of chuckles and snickers through out the day. The only people who were openly and verbally hostile were Terri and Jasmine. Although not as open about it, Lisa was also antagonistic towards Jason.

At lunch I heard many comments about his clothing, his sexual preferences and ancestry. Jason had replaced ‘Linda the slut’ as the number one topic of conversation. They mentioned a couple of comments and nasty things that they wanted to do. I interrupted them and reminded them I represented the Human Resources department and if I heard of any harassment, sexual or otherwise, I would have to report it to HR. They said very little in front of me after that. I was sure that they were still plotting, but just not with me around.

When I returned to my desk I wrote a mild reminder about company policy concerning harassment and sent it to everyone in the department. That earned me a reprimand from my immediate manager, John Taylor. It was not my responsibility to handle personnel matters within the law department. How nice I thought; the SOB always turned down my requests for lunch and usually turned down or cancelled face-to-face meetings in his office, but he had the time to send me a nasty-gram about harassment. Even more disgusting was the fact that he never left his office to walk out into the real world and see what was going on. None of the other attorneys ever came out of their little castles.

Jason had another horrible day. The girls had escalated their attacks and hatred from the day before. I told him to keep a log of all comments and tricks that he encountered. On a weekly basis he could send them to Lisa.

Tuesday night Jasmine and Karen drank the rest of the beer.

I wasn’t about to let Jason back down, and so Wednesday I had him wear a very dressy pair of gray slacks. They came from a suit I owned and they were a step up in quality and style. They were fully lined, so I told Jason not to wear any stockings. I told him he would love the feel of the smooth rayon liner against his smooth legs.

"Just wear a pair of your short calf stockings," I told him.

On Thursday I coupled the slacks with a soft, androgynous looking sweater. I knew the girls would assume it was a woman’s sweater. It actually was a woman’s sweater, but there was no way to tell that without checking the label. Of course that didn’t stop the girls.

And on Friday I gave him a woman’s blouse. It was cut in a man’s style, but the buttons and the darts under the arms gave away the origin. The girl’s comments became even cruder and nastier when they saw his blouse. Some of the other girls in the department were starting to join in. Jason was near to tears when we went to get our afternoon coke. "When you get back to your desk, print out your list of grievances, make a copy for me and yourself and take it to Lisa in person," I told him.

He did as I instructed and things got even worse. She chewed him out for wearing women’s clothing. "This is an office of law, not a gay bar! Your choice in styles and clothing are totally inappropriate for this office. You are the distraction and cause of the friction within this office. You had better change your attitude, not the other people." She took his list and tore it up.

At 6:00, Jason was again sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. His long, manicured nails were very evident and he quietly sniffed. "Jason? Another bad day?"

"Oh, you might say that. But I doubt you would. I’m building character and handling consequences. I’m maturing nicely, thank you. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, but by golly I’m maturing nicely."

"Tell me what happened with Lisa."

"She yelled at me and then ripped up my list. It’s all my fault she said."

"E-mail your list to her, and this time copy Kleber."

"That should clear up everything," he said sarcastically.

"Do it," I ordered. "I’m going to sit here and watch you do it."

I knew that Jason was starting to lose his grip on his emotions. I had seen it with my mother two years earlier when she had lost dad. It took a long time for her to accept her problem and see the doctor. It was an ugly scene, with mom constantly crying and unable to function. It wasn’t until the doctor put her on Paxil that she could function and join the world again. It was a lifesaver, and I was already sure that Jason was going to need it. I had him make an appointment to see his doctor ASAP. The best that he could do was next Tuesday.

I tried to interest Jason in becoming Jasmine on Friday night and going out to the clubs. He was too tired he said, and I believed him. I made sure that we retired early Friday evening. I slept with him, but refused to have sex. I had decided that I would only have sex with his alter-ego Jasmine. It was meant to serve as positive reinforcement for his crossdressing.

We took full advantage of our Saturday. We dressed casually, did a little window shopping, had a light snack for lunch and returned to the apartment later in the afternoon. We spent the afternoon setting Jasmine’s hair, polishing her nails and getting ready for the evening. We mutually decided to go back to Glitter. We thought it would be a comfortable and easy evening. Because it was Glitter, we knew we could dress over the top, and so we went crazy. Jasmine wore a mini dress that had spaghetti straps, a surplice bodice and a hem that was over two inches above her knee. I gave her blue artificial lashes to wear, and then sprinkled her face with lots of glitter.

I poufed up her hair and gave it a wild but ‘styled’ look. Don’t ask me how I did it, because I was totally winging the whole style. But it came out campy and attractive. We gave her the biggest drop earrings that we could find and I found a ring for almost every finger she had. I put a gold slave bracelet around her ankle, and we finished off Jasmine with a new scent that we had bought that afternoon.

We bopped on down to Glitter and flashed our IDs on the way into total bedlam. The sound system was in full throat and was pounding out Eurodisco at an earsplitting level. We headed straight to the dance floor and ran into Tara. I knew it would be a good night for Jasmine. Tara was her favorite TV and I let the two of them hang together the rest of the night. They spent most of their time dancing and the rest of the time talking. I had no idea how they were able to communicate over the loud music. I actually left for half an hour and walked down the street to an old dive that I used to visit. It was quiet and I was able to let my ears recuperate. I felt comfortable leaving Jasmine on her own.

Before the drag show started, the music ended and we were able to talk a little. "Tara, Jasmine tells me that you are an attorney. Is that right?"

"Yes. I’ve been practicing for 7 years. I understand that you just passed your boards. Congratulations."

"Thanks. Do you belong to a firm?"

"Yea, a small firm. There’s just 3 of us."

"What do specialize in?"

"Just about anything. We’re not fussy, but mostly workers comp, bankruptcies, medical malpractice and my specialty - workplace harassment."

"Do you ever do any sexual harassment?"

"All the time. You need some help?

"Not me, but I might know someone else that could use your help. How can I contact you?"

"You thinking about Jasmine?"

"Yea, how’d you know?"

"She told me a little bit about what’s going on. She has my number. I’d kill for her. When she’s ready, have her contact me, I’ll take good care of her."

"Thanks," I said. "I’m not sure when everything is going to blow up, but I have a feeling it won’t be long."

The show was excellent as usual. Jasmine must have given away $5. It might not sound like much to you, but we were still living on a very limited budget. When the show was over the sound system kicked on again. It was time for me to go. I grabbed Jasmine and yelled in her ear, "We have to go. I want you to give Tara a goodnight kiss. A nice one. Ok?"

She nodded her head then turned to Tara. She said something to her, then they embraced and kissed . It was a long, slow, lingering kiss. I was surprised that Jasmine gave her such a kiss. Tara winked and waved as we left.

I wrapped my arm through Jasmine’s as we walked down the street. I had to ask, "Is Tara a good kisser?"

"Hmmm hmmmm."

"As good as me?"

"Maybe," she said quietly.

"Was that your 1% tonight?"

"A girl never tells. And why are you so interested? Jealous or something?"

"Maybe," I giggled. "Maybe I’m going to have to win you back. Is there something I need to do to impress you?"

"Let’s see how you compare first." We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a long kiss.

"Well?" I asked.

"It’s rather difficult to tell. We’ll have to check out some other talents when we get home. Do you know the Chinese twisting rope trick?"

We laughed and then kissed again. When we arrived home, I made her stay dressed, as we made love on the living room rug. There was no foreplay as we were both extremely horny. We pulled our panties off, pulled up our dresses and I straddled Jasmine as she layed on her back. "Take me, gorgeous," she ordered.

"Yes ma’am," I answered and I slid my wet pussy down over her petite cock. It didn’t take either one of us long to cum.

When finished, we carefully undressed each other, cleaned off our makeup and slipped into something sexy. We went to her bed and slowly titillated each other for the next 45 minutes. It was a wonderful tryst.

Monday we went back to work. Things changed for the better. An e-mail message had been sent out to all employees in the facility. It was a short reminder from HR concerning sexual harassment. I was sure that it was in response to Jason’s e-mail complaint. At lunch, I found out that Lisa had been called to HR to have a quick chat about the situation. It must not have gone the way Lisa wanted. She had never had much use for HR, and today she was cussing them out.

"I’m supposed to make sure that all the harassment stops," she told us.

"You mean the swish can dress like a girl? Wear women’s clothes and prance around like a fairy?"

"Yea. Isn’t that nice?"

"That’s stupid. They really are idiots in HR."

"Is that all they said?" I asked.

"I’m supposed to keep a list of what he wears each day. Anything too girly." Lisa was disgusted.

"You mean like his hair and earrings?" Terri asked.

"Those don’t count," she said. "It’s accepted in general society for men to wear earrings and have long hair."

"What about camisoles, panties and women’s slacks?"

"I don’t know if I can say much about under garments. But I’ll list them whenever I notice them. If you can actually see panty lines and cami straps let me know each day. I think it will look better if I can say that other employees saw those items, as opposed to just me."

"Is that it?" I asked.

"And I’m also supposed to keep a daily list of his performance and any disruptions. They can use those against him."

"Are they going to try and fire him?"

"I think so. That was my impression, but they need documentation to protect themselves."

"So you have to protect him and stop the harassment? That stinks." Jasmine wrinkled her nose as she emphasized stink.

Lisa grinned and looked at Terri and Jasmine, "That’s what I will say to everyone. But whatever happens behind my back … well, there isn’t much I can do. Especially if I don’t see it. You know what I mean?"

They knew. The three of them chuckled like a coven of witches getting ready to drop the little children into the boiling cauldron. Upon returning to my office, I dutifully logged our conversation in my Govt directory. As long as I had it open, I flashed through all of the Jasmine pictures from the daily background scenes. I need to get some more recent pictures of her I thought.

On Tuesday Jason went to the doctor and I insisted that he come back with a prescription for Paxil. Even though the near term office situation was going to improve a little, I wasn’t going to let it last forever.

The girls started referring to Jason as ‘Fancy Britches’ and even called him that to his face. So I thought it only appropriate to give him fancy britches to wear each day. To keep Jason from going over the deep end, I alternated him from conservative to dressy each day. I owned a pair of dockers, and since we wore the same size, I let him wear those on some days. On other days I gave him the slacks from some of my dressier suits. On dress-down Friday’s he wore a tight pair of two pocket jeans from Liz Claiborne. No matter which day it was, it was evident to anyone who wanted to look that he was wearing women’s pants.

The next week was Thanksgiving. It was a short 3 day work week, so I decided to liven things up a bit more. I sent Jason back to work with his hair in a French braid. There was no subtlety to it all. It was obviously a female hairstyle. That turned up the office temperature a bit more. And for good measure, on Wednesday he wore a pair of plaid wool slacks. Lisa and Jason each filed their weekend reports.

The long weekend was wonderful therapy. Even though I had raised the anxiety level, the Paxil was starting to take effect and calm Jason. Jasmine knew that she would get to wear her breast forms for 4 full days, and that put her in a good mood. She moved her usual Wednesday night electrolysis appointment to Tuesday. That way she managed to keep 2 of her usual 3 weekly sessions, and got another night for dressing. Wednesday and Thursday we went to straight clubs, Friday and Saturday we went to gay clubs. During the days we went grocery shopping, saw a couple of movies and did some needed cleaning around the house.

Jasmine’s hair extensions were starting to look and feel a little worse for the wear. I called Gina and asked if we could stop by for a quick consultation. Gina agreed to give us 10 minutes of her valuable time.

"Yes, it is starting to get a little old," she agreed. "But if you can wait two more weeks, I think Jasmine’s own hair might be long enough to style."

"What kind of style do you think you can do?" I asked.

"I’m sure I’ll be able to cut it in a graduated blunt."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, a bob. It will be cut to the same length all the way around, and short underneath along the neck line. You can do a lot of things with it. You can leave it straight, curl just the ends under, or you can use a small curler or curling iron and put a very nice curl in. It looks fabulous with small tight curls. It is really easy to take care of. You can towel or blow dry, or even let it air dry. You have nice straight hair, and air drying should leave it styled nicely. It’s a great on the go style. What do you think?"

"Will I be able to pull it back in a ponytail?" Jasmine asked.

"I wouldn’t worry about that Jasmine. I think it sounds like the perfect style for you. I think you should do it," I urged.

"Shall I mark you down? Two Saturdays from now?" Gina asked.

I looked at Jasmine, waiting for her to decide. I even nodded my head trying to coax her along. "Ok."

Our weekend passed too fast and the dreaded Monday came too soon. On Monday morning I allowed Jason to wear his hair in a ponytail. I set out bikini panties and a panty girdle with pads. The girls wouldn’t be able to see his panty line, but they would see why I called him Cally. I laid out his corset, camisole, stockings to clip to his garters and a pair of slacks from my good black suit. It had light pinstripes, large cuffs and looked very dressy. I gave him the blouse cut in a man’s style that he had worn before.

I had him wear a pair of shoes that were new for work, although not new for the clubs. They were narrow with a low cut that reached half way from the ankle to the toe. It would be very easy to notice the stockings. They came with a dressy one and a half inch heel. They were very fashionable in the straight clubs. Up above, I had him wear his usual one-inch hoop earrings and a small stud above them.

For something else new, I made him carry a purse. Since we were usually the first ones to arrive in the morning, and almost the last to leave in the evening, it was unlikely anyone would see. I just wanted him to become more comfortable and reliant on a purse. He complained as usual, but then he complied.

"I can’t carry a purse. That’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull."

I ended the complaining quickly, "And don’t forget to carry a tampon with you."

The usual tension and problems followed him around work. He received comments from almost all of the girls in the office. He hid in his little cubicle as much as he could, but he did have to venture out to work on computers and take things to the copier room.

He managed to do his computer work first thing in the morning, before any of the attorneys arrived. He had the routine upgrades on their PCs taken care of before 9:00 everyday, and so they never saw him. They almost never wandered out of their offices, and probably wouldn’t have recognized half their employees if they had met them on the street. They were an insulated, pampered and spoiled group of hermits. They probably communicated between themselves, but I would never have known. I was totally out in the cold.

But when Jason did have to wander out into the open, the sarcasm and insults were always there. The nicest girls went out of their way to ignore him or not have any contact in the first place. The meanest, and Jasmine was one of them, went out of their way to confront and insult him. Jasmine called him ‘swish’ or ‘fancy pants’ or even ‘girly-boy’. She would pat him on his rear when he walked by, or make kissing noises as she followed him to the copy room.

Sometimes she would go to his vacant desk and take papers or throw papers on the floor. One day she took all of the staples out of his stapler and went through his desk to take all of his tape and paperclips. She did lot’s of little things to annoy him. While Terri wasn’t an active accomplish, she did act as lookout in case Jason returned. By midweek Jason no longer went to the vending machines with me. He did most of his copy room work at lunch when Jasmine was at the cafeteria. He started to keep as little active work as possible on his desk, and basically hid in his foxhole. In fact, that is what he started calling his cubicle, ‘The Foxhole’.

Of course he dutifully recorded all of the problems and e-mailed them every Friday to both Lisa and Kleber in HR. I always received a private copy. I would initial and date the paper, then I would scan it and place the electronic file in my Govt directory. The hard copies went into a paper file in my locked desk. I was acquiring a very damaging collection of paperwork.

Along with his complaints, I was starting to see paperwork from HR. I was their first contact in the law department, and I started to see official records of malfeasance, insubordination, disruptions and other problems. These were the result of Lisa’s weekly reports. In most cases they directly conflicted with Jason’s reports, and in some cases were total fabrications. I kept a separate log where I addressed the fabrications. That log stayed in my attaché and went home with me every night. The ammunition was accumulating.

Fortunately, the Paxil was doing its job and Jason was staying sane, if not exactly happy. I continued to choose his clothes and I always made him fashionable. On nice days he was dressed androgynously, and on those other days … let’s just say he looked sweet.

I received a surprise later that week. Terri hand delivered an envelope to me. It looked like an invitation and it was. It was from the director of the law department, Mr. Pearson. I was invited to his house on the following Saturday, the 11th. He was having his 12th annual Christmas party for the ‘staff’. I soon found out that the ‘staff’ consisted solely of the attorneys. I was surprised to find me included in the group. I was going to be the token female. The envelope was addressed to Karen Marlowe and Guest. Since I had no boy friend to invite, I tried to think of someone else to take with me. I had a delicious idea. I almost wet my panties thinking about it. I wondered if we could pull it off, and I couldn’t wait to spring it on Jasmine.

It was the most amazing idea. I was going to take Jasmine to the party and make love to her in Pearson’s own house. No that wasn’t right. ‘Make love’ wasn’t the right way to say it. It was missing the guttural emotions I was feeling. Sex? No even that wasn’t what I was feeling. I needed something more crude and vulgar. Fuck. I was going to fuck Jasmine in Pearson’s house. Better yet, his bedroom. Oh no, even better than that, on his bed! I was getting wet just thinking about it. More than anything else, I wanted to fuck Jasmine on Pearson’s own bed.

Wow! What a great idea. How could it get any better? If Pearson found out somehow. After the fact of course. Something he couldn’t do anything about. What? What? What if I left a used condom in his bed? Ohhh, gross. Way too gross for me. Ugh! I’d have to think about it. Something to say nyah, nayah!

But first things first. I had to make sure that I could even take Jasmine. I called Mr. Pearson, "Mr. Pearson, hi this is Karen Marlowe. How are you today? Great. That’s good. I just received your invitation to your party. Thank you very much. I would love to come. Mr. Pearson, I have a little favor to ask. Your invitation said ‘and guest’. That’s very generous. It just so happens that right now I’m … ah … between boyfriends. Yea, it is too bad. I’m a little reluctant to drive into an area I’ve never been before, I’m sure you’re in a great neighborhood, but I’m not very good at directions, and … ahhh … I’ll probably make a wrong turn on the way there, and … yes. Getting to the point, would it be alright if I brought my roommate? Thank you sir. I’m looking forward to the party. See you there. Thanks."

That was easy. Now, how do I prepare Jasmine? How do I disguise her? Wait a minute, check the schedule. It’s on the same day as Jasmine’s hair appointment. She’ll look totally different. No one will possibly recognize her. Perfect! Better than perfect, outrageous!

I was thinking out of order and incoherently. My mind was flying.

How do I get into his bedroom? How do I get the privacy to FUCK Jasmine in Pearson’s own bed? Think. Think. Think … emergency. Girl stuff. But both of us? Think, think, … I had it! Wardrobe malfunction. YES! Jasmine would have a wardrobe malfunction. We would need a private room for several, 15 or 20 minutes so I could sew up her problem. Her dress? Bra? It didn’t’ matter. I didn’t have to tell him. I didn’t even have to fake anything. He didn’t give a shit about me or what I was doing. He’d be too interested in talking with anybody other than me. ‘Mr. Pearson, Jasmine has a little wardrobe problem. Oh no, nothing too serious. Lucky for us, I always carry a little sewing kit in my purse. But we need somewhere private where she can take off her , ummm … so I can sew up the little problem. Your bedroom? That would be wonderful. Are you sure that’s ok? Thank you. Does it have a lock? It would be rather embarrassing to Jasmine if someone walked in and … Great. Thank you so much. We’ll be right back. Right after I FUCK her on your bed. What? You want to watch? I’m sorry, only super hot chicks are allowed to watch. Ha ha.’

Back to Jasmine. The party would be easy. She’d look totally different with her new hairstyle and color. I’d get some fake glasses for her to wear. None of these assholes would recognize her if she came up and gave them a blow job. They had no idea who, what or why she was. That part would be easy.

But. But. What would we do when we returned to work on Monday. Yea, they never came out of their holes, but this once they would. Someone would recognize her. We’d be toast. Her hair was the most obvious thing to change. Sunday, after the party I could change her to blonde. That wouldn’t be good for her hair, changing colors two days in a row. Gina could help me. There is probably something we can do on the color. Curls! We’d give her a real curly style on Saturday, and then wash them out for Monday. Yea, that could work. The glasses on Saturday would help. I’d make them large and give them a strong color. Not just the frames, but maybe we could tint the lenses. That would help. It would be expensive though. But wait, Jasmine had only one more payment on her credit card, then she would be out of debt.

Stop it! Get back to earth. She fought too hard to get out of debt. This was for me. If I wanted this, I’d pay for it. I was only $30,000 in debt. Another couple hundred wouldn’t make any difference in the long run.

What else? Hair color, curls, glasses and what else? Jewelry. Big drop earrings on Saturday, back to small hoops on Monday. No, studs. Small, small studs. What else? What? Nails! I hated to do it, but we could cut her nails on Sunday. She wouldn’t mind. Or maybe she would. It didn’t matter. A moustache! Yea, that would look stupid. Come on think. Think. Think. Blank, blank, blank.

Ok, I could work on that. I had almost two weeks. Yea, I could make this work. This could be awesome. Fuck you Mr. Pearson. And all of your stupid male pigs!

I looked at the clock and it was almost 6:30. I had been daydreaming a long time. And I was still wet. Jasmine was going to get a surprise when we reached home. I decide also that I wasn’t going to tell her anything. It would freak her out. The less she knew in advance the better. I’d drag her into this at the last minute, just like I did on everything else. She’d moan and whine, but she would go along

Damn it! I was brilliant.

"Jason, Let’s go home you sexy goddess."

The rest of the week and the next, I dressed Jason conservatively for work. I had him wear dockers and jeans most of the time. If Lisa wanted to bitch about him wearing jeans, that was the least of our worries. I wanted Jason to be in a good mood leading up to the party.

The next weekend, the weekend before the party and Jasmine’s hair appointment, we dressed to the nines and went to straight bars. I wanted her to get more experience with the paranoid section of our society. I made it a point to pick up men. I wanted her to get as much experience as possible. I wanted her to feel comfortable around straight men. She was getting good at flirting and I wanted her to get even better. The last thing I wanted was her to get uptight and unnatural in her conversation and body language. I knew it was going to be difficult for her when she faced the attorneys, so I wanted her to have some instinct and practice to fall back on.

Each night I made love to her fully dressed. No, it was closer to fucking. I took her into her bedroom and removed her shoes. I was making her wear 4-inch heels, and after 5 or 6 hours on them, I knew they were killing her feet. After she was on her back and on the bed, I reached under her dress and pulled off her panty girdle and panties. I made sure that she held her dress out of the way so that no pre-cum would accidentally leave a stain. I even told her what I was doing and why. "Your clothes are expensive and important, even in lust I want you to take care of them."

I pulled a condom out of my bra and surprised her to no end. She started giggling and asked, "Did you have that in there all night?"

"Absolutely. You never know where or when you’ll need one. Right?"

"Right."

I opened it and rolled it on her little penis. I was about to flip the foil aside when the IDEA hit me. I would leave the foil in Pearson’s bed. Yes! That thought excited me even more. I quickly pulled my panties off and mounted Jasmine. I soon made her cum and I was right behind her. I blew her a kiss, but made sure not to mess up our makeup.

I got off Jasmine and reminded her, "Don’t let your dress touch your wet penis. We don’t want any stains. I went to the bathroom and slid a tampon in, then returned to Jasmine with a Kleenex. I removed her condom, wiped off her penis and tossed the Kleenex aside. Another great idea hit me. Yes it was gross, but it would be fun to leave that Kleenex behind. Well maybe. Back to the topic at hand. I made Jasmine put her panties and girdle back on.

"Why? I’m just going to take them off," she protested.

I couldn’t really say, ‘Because we’re practicing for next week’. Instead I said, "Because I want to make sure that your penis is safely tucked away when you remove your dress. That is a very expensive dress and it looks absolutely gorgeous on you. I don’t want to take even the slightest little risk that you’ll stain it."

We ran the same routine the next night, Saturday. I again dressed Jasmine in ‘Expensive Hooker’ costume and took her to a very upscale club. We teased the boys and flirted until our pussies (at least mine) was soaking wet. We screwed twice that night. The first time was in the girl’s restroom. I wanted her to feel the adrenaline rush as we were in a public situation where we could get caught. Then I took her home and again practiced fucking with all of our clothes on. And once more, I went through the full ritual of re-dressing before undressing.

I did everything I could to get ready. I dressed Jason conservatively and made sure he took his Paxil every day. I took him out Monday night to buy some fake glasses. Since they were plain glass with no prescription power, I couldn’t get them tinted, which was just as well considering the cost. On Tuesday I called the salon and asked about both of us getting a manicure, along with Jasmine’s hair appointment. Jasmine’s salon fund was going to pay for her hair, but I was going to have to pony up for the manicures. The things I did for that girl! The things I did for my own perverse revenge against the jerks that I worked with.

If I pulled this off it was all going to be worth it.

I spent the week giving my work just the slightest bit of my attention. I was still plotting and scheming for our Saturday party. Then I received an e-mail on Friday morning. HR had put together their paperwork and justification and they were confirming that they were ready to fire Jason. They would fire him late in the afternoon. Security had been alerted and they were to report to the law department at 4:00 P.M.

I was in shock. I knew this was coming. I was expecting it, but it still hit me in the gut. I felt sick. Everything was real now. This was no longer a game. I was no longer getting even with the company and men vicariously through Jason and Jasmine. Jason and Jasmine were no longer preparing to spend the rest of their life as a girl. Now it was going to happen. I was no longer playing mind games with the girls and the law department. Everything had just gotten real. The fun was over. Now it was for real. Now it was real money and real war. The big cats were about to wake up, stretch their claws and step off the porch.

Gulp. At least now I didn’t have to worry about anyone recognizing Jason on Monday.

I couldn’t let this happen now. I had big plans for the weekend and Jason would be devastated. He wouldn’t be able to perform, and I wanted this way too much. I had to do something. I threw an envelope into my printer and pulled up a default address for a judge at the city courthouse. I printed out the envelope and then wrote out a quick note. ‘Sorry, I needed a diversion to get this man out of the office. I apologize’, and I even signed it. I put the note in the envelope, sealed it and then went to Jason’s cubicle.

"Jason, I’m in big trouble. I need this to get to the courthouse immediately. Here’s the keys to my car, run this over immediately and give it to the judge’s bailiff, would you please? Just go home from there. I’ll take a taxi home. Thanks, and hurry, it’s really important."

A little after 4:00, Lisa came to my office. "Have you seen Jason?"

"Yea, I had an emergency and I had him deliver a letter to the courthouse."

Lisa was apoplectic. "You did what? What the hell did you do that for? You got the e-mail. He’s supposed to be fired." I thought she was going to burst a vessel.

"It was an emergency. I had no choice." I was getting loud with her. I was pissed. "She shows up at 7:15 every morning. Fire her on Monday morning!"

"Her?" and Lisa gave me a quizzical look.

"Him, her , it, it doesn’t matter. You’re the one with the attitude. You’ve hated him since day one. You can wait one more day for your sadistic little revenge," I yelled at her.

My ferocity threw Lisa totally off balance. She backed out of my office without saying a word.

I sat at my desk until 4:30. I was sure that Pearson or Kleber was going to come chew me out. Nobody arrived by then, so I packed up, logged off and went home.

That night was a tough night for me. I was full of conflicting emotions and overflowing with guilt. My game had become totally real. Jason was fired and I wasn’t far behind. There was no turning back. The game was real. I was going to be fired, there was no doubt about that. And I had a fifty-fifty chance of being disbarred. I was stepping into the major leagues. I was going to face 100 mph fast balls. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this. I had thought I was ready, back when it had been a game. But now I was truly worried. I was worried sick.

I wanted this weekend more than anything, and in the end, that is what I hung my hope on. This weekend was going to be my focus. Monday would come, but now was the time to focus. I would never have another chance to say ‘Fuck you’. Even if it was going to be anonymous, I wanted this. Now more than ever. As I fell asleep alone in my own bed I kept repeating, focus, focus, focus.

CHAPTER TEN

Saturday morning we had breakfast and prepared for the salon appointment. Jasmine was only shaving every other day, but this was one of those days. There was very little facial hair left, and her face was looking much softer without that beard. She no longer used beard cover, and the overall amount of foundation was much less, also. When fully made up she looked much more realistic and less plastic. I had her put on just a touch of foundation and blush, along with some lipstick. No girl should ever go out without her lipstick.

She put on a pink , v-neck angora sweater and a pair of tight jeans for her appointment. She put in small studs for each of her earrings and she was ready. I drove her to Gina’s salon and brought along a small digital camera so that I could take pictures of her transformation. This was Jasmine’s big day and she was excited. I had told her that I had something special planned for the evening and she was going to have to dress very elegant. But she had no idea where we were going.

Gina met us and took us to her station. She began removing the extensions and commenting on Jasmine’s hair. "Jasmine, your hair has grown nicely over the last 2 months. Probably more than I would have expected. That’s good for your style, but the extensions were getting too far away from your scalp. That’s why you were starting to lose some hair. But that won’t matter now."

"So is her hair long enough for the style that you mentioned, Gina? The graduated …"

"Graduated blunt. It’s also called a bob. Bobs can be all kinds of lengths. Jasmine’s is a little shorter than what I had originally envisioned, but it will be fine. I’ve done bobs with hair a full inch shorter than this, and up to 2 inches longer, although we made same other changes. This hair will be great for you, Jasmine. Being a little on the short side, it will last longer before we have to start trimming."

"What if I don’t want to trim? What if I want it to grow long? Is this a good style from which I can do that?"

"Absolutely, Jasmine. This is a wonderful style with all kinds of potential. You’re going to love the style. Its real easy to care for, it gives you great freedom of movement and is more versatile than you think."

It took Gina about 30 minutes to remove all of the extensions and prepare Jasmine’s hair for the next step. Jasmine quietly sat in the chair, her pink cape covering her, and she intently watched in the mirror as Gina went through her procedures.

Next, we’re going to color your hair. You have a deep brunette color and I’m going to lighten that to a warm reddish brown. The shade will compliment your eyes, and the color saturation will give your hair a much nicer tone. It will look shinier and healthier. Gina then parted Jasmine’s hair down the middle. On each side she again parted the hair from the crown down behind each ear. Pinning the hair out of the way, she now had Jasmine’s hair parted into quadrants.

Gina had another beautician bring her the bottles and bowls with the hair coloring already in them. Gina started with the hair in front and using the pointed applicator on the bottle, she parted a small section and squeezed out the color. She started about one inch away from the scalp and covered the hair out to the end of the shaft.

"Your hair doesn’t color at the same rate from the scalp to the end," she explained. "The first inch or so of the hair shaft absorbs the color much faster than the rest of the shaft. That’s why I’m starting at the mid shaft and coloring only towards the end." As she explained what she was doing, her hands flew through Jasmine’s hair. She parted, applied color and massaged it into the hair, sectioned the next area and repeated the process.

"The color looks like it is absorbing nicely. Sometimes we have to compensate for permed or damaged hair, but your hair is in good condition Jasmine. I always start at the crown of the head and as I color each section I can take the wet hair and lay it over the top of you head. That makes it easier to take the lower section and work on it without any other hair getting in the way."

"So how do you handle the roots?" Jasmine asked.

"First I’ll color the mid shaft to the end all the way around your head. Then we set the timer and wait 25 minutes for it to soak in. Then I come back and I repeat the entire process, but I concentrate on the roots. You’ll see how it’s done."

Gina continued working down the first quadrant and finished coloring all of the hair in only 10 minutes. She switched to the other side, and quickly sectioned a bit of hair, squeezed the bottle and oozed the coloring onto the hair, then massaged it in. Another 10 minutes and the second quadrant was finished.

"The back is essentially the same, but I don’t use the bottle applicator anymore." She picked up one of the bowls and moved it closer to the chair. "From this point on I use a brush." She parted a section of hair, painted the coloring onto the hair while using her free hand to massage the coloring into the hair. Section by section she colored, laid the hair over the top of Jasmine’s head and moved to the next section. It took Gina less than 15 minutes to finish the rear two quadrants. "Set the timer for 25 minutes and I’ll be back to color your roots. Would you like a magazine or something to drink while you’re waiting?"

"Yes, please. A diet coke."

"Would you like anything Karen?"

I ordered the same. While waiting for Gina to return, I took several pictures of Jasmine. "You look really cute with your hair all gooped up," I said. She let me take several pictures of her sticking her tongue out at me. "Are you enjoying this?"

Her eyes closed and a smile spread across her face. "Karen, I can’t begin to explain how I feel. This is so great. I feel so feminine, so sexy, so horny — you wouldn’t believe what an erection I have. I love the aromas, the feel of Gina taking my hair and working with it. I don’t even mind the slimy feel of my hair right now. This is just so great … it’s almost better than sex. In fact, right now I think it is better than sex."

"Is that a slap in my face? Is sex with me that lousy?" I grinned as I teased her.

"Karen, I love sex with you, but right now I am in heaven."

Gina came back from her break and announced, "Times up. Now we do the roots. This will go much faster." She again started with the front quadrant and using the brush, painted the part down the middle of Jasmine’s head. She applied a large amount of the coloring in the part. Then she began sectioning hair and painting the roots with the brush. It seemed like the whole process only took 15 minutes or less. Gina finished brushing coloring onto the roots then set the timer again. "This time we will wait 20 minutes."

I took a few more pictures. "You are going to look so hot tonight. I can’t wait to show you off to the rest of the world."

"So where are we going tonight?"

I didn’t want to worry her. I wanted her to enjoy the experience. "That is top secret. I’ll tell you when we get there. But I can tell you this, never in a million years would you be able to guess where we’re going."

"Sounds mysterious," she giggled.

Gina returned and led Jasmine to the sinks. Jasmine sat in one of the chairs and leaned back with her neck resting on the sink. Gina checked the water temperature, then took the spray hose and began washing the color out of Jasmine’s hair. She massaged the hair and squeezed the color out for several minutes, while Jasmine laid there with her eyes closed.

"The color came out great. It’s a little darker now than it will be when it’s dry, but I think you’ll love the results. I’m going to use a mild shampoo and shampoo your hair, then we’ll go cut and style it." Gina massaged the shampoo into Jasmine’s hair, building up a lovely set of suds. She rinsed the shampoo and wrapped a towel around the hair. She gently lifted Jasmine’s head and helped her out of the chair. "Back home," Gina said as she led Jasmine back to Gina’s station.

Gina swung the chair around so Jasmine could watch in the mirror. Gina blotted Jasmine’s hair with the towel then tossed the towel aside. "How do you like the color?" she asked Jasmine.

"Wow! It looks so much different. Richer. I like it," she pronounced.

"Good, now we’re going to cut it. As I said before, I’m going to cut what we call a graduated blunt. The hair will be long, hanging to just under your chin and jaw bone. This is a really cute style, but not all women can wear it."

"Why’s that?"

"It accents the neck and shoulders. Large women don’t look good with the neck exposed. This cut works best on smaller women, especially those with a long thin neck and smaller facial figures. A large nose sticks out of this style and ruins the lines. You should look really cute with this, Jasmine."

"Super," Jasmine giggled as she wiggled to a more comfortable position in her chair.

Gina used a comb to remove all of the tangles in Jasmine’s hair. Then she parted the hair down the crown of her head, from the forehead to the back of the neck. Next she sectioned the hair at a 45 degree angle in the back. The high point was half way up the part and the lower point was behind the ear. She pinned the hair out of the way. Gina did this on both sides of Jasmine’s head leaving a triangle of hair at the nape of her neck. Gina sectioned the lower one inch of this triangle and pinned the rest up out of the way. Using a comb as a guide, she cut the hair at a slight angle; lower on the outside of the head and higher towards the middle. She did this on both sides. Holding the hair in her hand, she used the tips of the scissors to point the hair; she cut tiny Vs in the hair across the length.

"What I’ve just done is point the hair on the nape of you neck. It will make it feathery when dry and gives a soft lower line to your style. Now I’m going to work up this triangle we have here, and cut the rest of this hair to the same length." Gina spun Jasmine’s chair around and handed her a mirror so she could see what Gina was describing. "This loose hair on you neck, below the scalp, I’ll use a razor to shave that off when we are completely done with the cut. You are going to have a long neck line and it will be very important to keep it clean. I’d suggest shaving the back of you neck at least every other day."

"I can do that," Jasmine said. "It won’t be long ‘til I won’t be shaving my face at all, so this should be a quick little chore."

"That a girl, Jasmine." Gina finished cutting the triangle area to the same length as the nape hair. "Now I’m going to cut the sides. First I release about half an inch of the hair that I have already parted. Nest, we comb it straight down." Gina was going through each action as she described it to Jasmine. Jasmine held her mirror in front of her so that she could follow the progress in the large mirror behind them. "After combing the hair straight down, I grip it between my fingers and cut a smooth straight line." Gina cut the hair then combed it down several times to make sure it was lying the way that she wanted.

"Ok, now we repeat and work our way around the side. Each time we release a bit of hair, we’re taking some strands from higher up your crown. The hair from you crown will actually be longer than the lower hair. It will look like the top hair is extending from the crown all the way to the cut and covering the lower hair underneath. It gives a very pretty and very clean line. As we work our way up we now reach hair that is hanging over your ear. This is a little more complicated here, but the effect is the same. I’m going to cut the hair a bit longer as we work our way to the front. Not much, and when it is curled under ever so slightly, it looks even all the way around. When we finish cutting you hair, I’ll blow it dry and show you how it would look if left perfectly straight, just so you know. I still plan on giving you a wet set and curl your hair for tonight, but you need to know what it will look like after you wash the curls out."

Gina was a gem. She was so good at explaining everything, I was sure Jasmine understood perfectly. She finished the first side and started the second. She repeated a mantra as she went along, "Release the hair, comb in its natural fall, grip and cut to the established guide length." She repeated the mantra twice then smiled at Jasmine, "Do you think you could do this yourself?"

Jasmine laughed, "Probably not in our lifetime. I’ll leave it to the great artist Gina."

"Why thank you, dear. I do like to believe that this is an artistic process."

"It sure is," we both agreed.

Gina finished the side. "Now we have the front left. There are several options here." She spun the chair around so that Jasmine could look into the big mirror. "We can leave it like this, with it parted in the middle and laid back to each side. Some women prefer this method because they don’t like the feel of hair falling down on their forehead. But my recommendation is to let me pull a small amount of hair down the front and cut bangs. Now we can do long bangs or short bangs, thick bangs or thin bangs. If it were me, I’d go with short bangs, but thin. That would look good with straight or curly styling. What would you prefer?’

"Karen, help me. I don’t know what to choose."

"When I’m not sure I usually defer to the judgment of the artiste. Unless of course you feel strongly one way or another," I offered.

"Gina, you’ve done a beautiful job so far, I defer to your expertise."

"Good choice, Jasmine. Short and thin it is." Gina pulled hair from both sides and combed it straight over Jasmine’s face. Then she formed a nice part about an inch up the crown and combed any extra hair back to the sides. She pinned the side hair out of the way, then using her fingers to hold the hair she cut it slightly above the eyebrows. "When it dries it’ll lay higher.

"Ok, we’re done cutting, Jasmine. Next I will show you how to blow dry your hair. This will be your daily procedure for styling your hair. When we’re done, I’ll take you back to the sink, wet your hair and set it for you." Gina took a brush and her hair blower and began to dry the hair. "Brush the hair away from the scalp and blow the air in this direction. You’re lifting the hair to give it more body. Towards the bottom, use your brush to curl the hair under and blow the hot air over the brush. This style looks best with the bottom of the hair curled under. You can do just the front or all the way around. I personally like to see the hair curled under all the way around."

Gina quickly dried Jasmine’s new style. "I think that came out really nice, Jasmine. I like the color, and that style works fabulously with your build. Like I said before, this style works best with petite features and a long thin neck. This is you, in my opinion. What do you think?"

Jasmine looked like a real girl. I was impressed. Transvestites can’t wear short hair. Their larger facial features, coupled with thick, short necks look ridiculous with short hair. But Jasmine made it work. She looked feminine and petite. Looking at her wearing this style with this color, there could be absolutely no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was a girl. The style and color worked brilliantly on her.

Jasmine was just as impressed. "Gina, you are a miracle worker. I look like a real girl. I can’t believe it. I love it. I love it, I love it, I love it."

"Thank you. I think it is fabulous on you. Honey, with this hair and a bit of makeup, no one in the world would ever think that you are anything other than a beautiful, young woman. Just wait ‘til you see the curls that I’m going to give you. You are going to have the boys drooling tonight."

"Yes," she squealed. "I just love this."

Gina took Jasmine to the sink and wetted her hair again. Back to the styling chair and Gina again combed out the tangles. Gina started on the top in front and rolled up a section of hair with a one-inch roller. "I’m starting with a large roller on top, because we’re going to keep your hair straight for the first inch and a half from the part. Then we’ll turn you into a mass of tight little curls. This is a beautiful style and looks extremely sexy." After working her way around the top of Jasmines head, Gina switched to much smaller rollers. She used a setting lotion with all of the small rollers. "This lotion will give your curls excellent hold, and they will give your hair a wet look. It’s all the rage and will look fab for you."

It didn’t take Gina long to roll her hair, maybe twenty minutes. Then she put Jasmine under a drier. "This won’t take long with your short hair. Do you want another coke?"

"I couldn’t possibly. I already have to go to the bathroom."

"You can go with the curlers in your hair. It won’t hurt anything."

"No, no. I don’t want to change any of this. I can keep going, please continue."

Thirty minutes later, Jasmine was back in Gina’s styling chair. Gina carefully unrolled each curler and each section of Jasmine’s hair would pop right back to its rolled shape. After removing all of the rollers, Gina took a small comb and brushed out the crown of Jasmines head. She flattened the large curls, and used her fingers to rearrange a few of the curls and announced Jasmine finished. "What do you think?"

"Wow. It’s fabulous. You’re fabulous. I love it."

"I’m glad you’re pleased, Jasmine. It was my pleasure serving you. I’m really happy that we could bring out the truly beautiful woman that you are. Have a wonderful time at the party tonight."

Jasmine was in heaven as we left Gina’s station. "We have one more thing to do before we leave," I announced.

"What’s that?"

"We’re both going to get a manicure."

"Whoopee," she squealed.

I went to the front desk and told the receptionist that we were ready for our manicure and she led us to our aestheticians. We spent 45 minutes having our nails, shaped and polished. By the time we finished, we had been at the salon almost four and a half hours. Whew!

Back home Jasmine grabbed me as we walked in the door and gave me a long passionate kiss. "What was that for?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just the best morning of my life, that’s all."

"I’m glad you’re happy, maybe I can get some tonight," I grinned.

"You can get some right now. I’m ready to explode."

"I’d love to, but I don’t want to mess your beautiful new hairstyle. Let’s wait until tonight, shall we? I need a bite to eat. Come on, I’ll let you make me some bacon and eggs for lunch."

After lunch we cleaned up the kitchen and relaxed in the living room. There was a women’s figure skating competition on TV and we watched the girls in their little skirts. We watched the news and then started getting ready for the evening. Since the electrolysis had progressed to its current point, Jasmine could get dressed much quicker. Makeup used to take the longest, but that had been reduced considerably through the need for less makeup and her expanded experience.

I laid out Jasmine’s clothes for the evening. I still liked the idea of controlling what she wore and how she looked. She was very submissive and preferred the arrangement. I was going to have to get her panties off later, so to make it easier I had her wear thigh-high stockings with elastic, rather than stockings and garters. I gave her pink panties to wear under her padded panty girdle. She also wore her corset of course, a pink underwire bra and a knee length slip. Her dress was a bright red in honor of the holiday season. It was a conservative dress with a hem that extended to mid calf. It had long sleeves and a square cut neckline. The waist was ruched and very form fitting. After applying her own makeup she put on an exquisite, herringbone gold chain. Her earrings were drop style made with gold and red rubies. I allowed her one ring on each finger, a tiny wrist watch with the thinnest band imaginable and a simple bracelet for each wrist. She wore her 3-inch red heels.

I borrowed another dress from Jasmine. Her wardrobe was much larger than mine, especially in the dress and skirt categories. I did have her beat in the business suit category. I wore a slinky black dress that started with a v-neck and finished just below the knee. The long sleeves were covered in lace. I also borrowed a pair of 3-inch black strap heels from Jasmine. I slipped a condom in my bra, while I touched up my makeup.

"Jasmine, do you have a tampon in your purse?"

"Yes ma’am. Also my lipstick and mascara. Will I need my wallet?"

"Not tonight." I filled my purse with my essentials, including an extra panty liner and a small sewing kit.

"Jasmine, you look beautiful tonight. I have never seen you more gorgeous. You’ll be busy tonight with all the men drooling after you." I handed her her new glasses. "Put these on and let’s see how cute you look."

She put the glasses on and they looked very good on her. "So where are we going?"

I handed the invite to her. The envelope said Ms. Karen Marlowe and Guest. "Ooohh," she cooed as she opened the envelope. She read the invitation and then looked at me puzzled. "Who is Charles M. Pearson?"

"He is my boss at work. He’s the head of the law department."

Jasmine’s eyes popped out of her head as she screeched, "What? You can’t be serious!"

I walked over and gently squeezed her shoulders. In a quiet but determined voice I said, "Jasmine, you are one of the most beautiful women I have seen. Don’t take just my word for it, you heard what Gina said." I looked her in the eye as I spoke. "There is not a single person there who can recognize you for anything other than a beautiful woman. If you walked up to these guys and handed them your drivers license they still wouldn’t have a clue as to who you are."

"But what about the girls? Lisa and Terri and Jasmine and the others?"

"They’re not invited. This is only for the attorneys. There won’t be anyone there who can recognize you, or even knows who you are." She just stared at me. "You can do this Jasmine. I know you can, and you know you can."

"But why do you even want to take me there?"

"Because I want to thumb my nose at them. I don’t like any of them. They have treated me like a leper. I’m nothing but a token female for them. So, I thought it would be fun to take them a real token female. One who is much prettier than me."

"I’m not sure that I can do this," she insisted.

"And why not? Come on Jasmine, we go out in the straight world all the time. This is no different. They don’t know you any more than the guys we tease in the clubs. And besides, you have never been more beautiful, more feminine, more awesome than you are right now. This is a piece of cake for you. Come on, let’s have some fun. Let’s strut out the newest heartthrob of greater Chicagoland." I gave her a large encouraging smile. She gave me a small, halfhearted smile. "Great! This will be the best night of Jasmine’s new life!"

We put on our coats, picked up our purses, took one more quick glance in the mirror and walked out the door. When we reached the garage I helped her in the car. "I wish I had a nicer car for you. You are way too beautiful for this piece of junk."

We reached Mr. Pearson’s house in the suburban town of Oakpark. Oakpark was one of the most affluent cities in the entire United States. The Christmas street decorations were beautiful and to be seen everywhere one looked. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and everything looked absolutely white and wonderful. It truly was a lovely evening. I parked the car and looked at Jasmine. "Are you ready for this?"

"I’m not sure."

"That’s not the answer I wanted to hear. Not from such a vibrant and confident woman as you. Let me ask one more time, are you ready?"

"Yes ma’am."

We walked up to the front door holding onto one another. The light dusting of snow was a bit slippery. I rang the doorbell and Mr. Pearson arrived momentarily. " Karen, welcome. Please come in. You look wonderful tonight. Is this your roommate?"

"Yes she is. Mr. Pearson, I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Jasmine. Jasmine, Mr. Pearson is our host this evening."

They shook hands. "Jasmine, you will light up this party. You’re very beautiful."

"Thank you Mr. Pearson. It is an honor to meet you, and I sincerely appreciate your invitation. I know I’m a bit of an inconvenience and I …"

"Nonsense," he said. "I am most happy that you could come. Please, let me take your coats and hang them up. Then I’ll introduce you to the others." Charles M. Pearson was a charming and gracious host. He hung up our coats and then walked us through the foyer to the living room.

"Mr. Pearson, you have a beautiful home," Jasmine said.

"Would you like a tour?"

"Yes, please."

"No problem. Let me introduce you to the other guests and then I’ll show you the rest of the house."

There were 14 other attorneys in the office, and 12 of them and their wives were at the party. Mr. Pearson introduced us to each person, and gave us a tidbit of information about each person. Not being the social type, I was worried what I would say to people and how I would be able to mingle, but Charles made all of that very easy. He had a warm personality and gentle sense of humor. He was nothing like I would have pictured him, based on our contact at work. At work he was hard-charging and tough. Here he was just the opposite.

We spent almost 45 minutes meeting everyone, and the time flew by. It was some of the easiest conversation I have ever had. By the third introduction, Jasmine was as completely at ease as I was . All of her nerves seemed to have melted away. After the introductions Charles took us to the kitchen and he made us both a drink. I had a marguerita and Jasmine had a martini. I didn’t know that she drank martinis and I gave her a look of mild surprise. She just smiled.

With drinks in hand, we began the tour. It was just what you would expect in Oak Park. The front foyer was two and a half stories tall, with a winding staircase and a massive chandelier. To one side of the foyer was the library with cherry wood and a huge bay window. To the other side of the foyer was the living room, which eventually split into the kitchen and the dining room. The living room had a two-story fireplace and there was a roaring fire blazing inside. From the kitchen one could walk out onto a large deck complete with gazebo, or head the other way towards the laundry room, pantry and garage.

He took us upstairs and he showed us the master bedroom, complete with walk-in closets, sitting area, two bathrooms - each with its own Jacuzzi - and a king size canopy bed. All of the decorating was perfect. There were 4 other bedrooms, each with its own full size bath.

Mr. Pearson, do you have children?" Jasmine asked.

"Yes, two boys and one girl. The boys are both doctors, one lives in Boston and the other in Baltimore. My youngest, Sheila, is attending Cornell."

"How nice," she said. "We didn’t meet your wife yet. Is she down stairs?"

Oops. Faux pas. He paused for just the slightest moment and said, "My wife and I divorced a couple of years ago. She moved with her friend to Dallas."

"I’m sorry," I muttered.

Charles led us back to the kitchen, where he was called away by one of the other guests. "Want another drink?" I asked.

"You trying to get me drunk?"

"Why Jasmine, my intentions are perfectly honorable. I would never try to get you drunk and take advantage of you."

"Good, because you don’t have to. I’m an easy girl, if you get my drift."

I mixed us both another drink, then we migrated towards the food. We stood around the hors d’oeuvres and ate a couple huge shrimp. As we were standing around, a couple of the wives walked over and made small talk with us. Without their husbands with them, their true personalities emerged. They were snotty and stuck up. Not at all likable. But we smiled and played along.

A couple of the guys strolled by later and made small talk as they filled up their plates. It was becoming obvious that we didn’t have much in common with these people. Some of them were nice enough, but we didn’t relate on the same social scale. We had no children in Ivy League colleges, no yachts, no country club memberships and no 6,000 square foot homes.

Charles wandered over a bit later and struck up another conversation. He was the only person there that we could actually talk with. He asked about families, where we went to school, our hobbies, he asked about boy friends and he just did a nice job with the small talk. He was actually trying. We chatted for about ten minutes, and then he wandered over to another group of guests.

"Not exactly what I expected," Jasmine said.

"What, the party?"

"No, the party is kind of what I imagined, but Charles isn’t as bad as I thought." You’ll change your mind later, I thought.

"So how do you feel? I mean how is Jasmine getting along? Relaxed?"

"Yea. Now that I’m here and we’ve met everyone, I feel fine."

"Great, I have an idea on how to liven up this party. Let’s go see Charles, and just play along with me."

I took Jasmine over to the small knot of people that Charles was talking with, and stood to the side waiting for an opportunity to intrude. He turned to us almost immediately. "Charles, Jasmine here has a little problem. Nothing serious … just a little wardrobe malfunction."

"Is there something I can do to help?"

"Fortunately, I always carry a sewing kit with me. But is there some place private where she and I can do some discrete sewing?"

"Certainly. Use my bedroom upstairs."

"Is there a lock on the door?"

"Yes. Go ahead and feel free to use it."

"Thanks," I said and I led Jasmine towards the foyer.

"What are you planning?" she asked suspiciously.

I gave her my evil little grin and said, "Nothing much."

By the time we reached the stairs she figured it out. "You’re nothing thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?"

"I don’t know. What do you think I’m thinking?" I continued grinning as we ascended the stairs.

"This isn’t a good idea, Karen."

We stopped half way up the stairs and I leaned closer to her. "Just a little while ago you said you were easy. I want to find out," I whispered in her ear.

She gave me that hopeless look of hers when she knew I was in control.

We entered Charles’ bedroom and I turned on the lights. Then I closed the door and locked it. I turned around and looked at Jasmine as I leaned back against the door, as if I were guarding it. She stood in the middle of the room and gave me a little grin. "You are the most gorgeous vixen I have ever seen. Come here, I want you."

She walked over to me and I took her hands and looked in her eyes. I leaned forward and gave her just the lightest kiss on the lips. "Walk this way." I took her to the bed, and started pulling up the hem of her dress. "Hold your hem up," I instructed. She stood still, watching and grinning as I reached under the hem of her dress and grasped her panty girdle. I pulled it down to her ankles. Her pink panties slid down with them. "Oh, oh. Look what I’ve done now," I whispered with a grin. I gently pushed her down to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "Skooch up on the bed," I whispered.

She pulled her dress out from under her and lifted it over her waist. Then she laid back and waited for me. I slide off my panties and noticed that my panty liner was almost saturated. I was so wet I was almost dripping. I looked at Jasmine. She looked so vulnerable lying on the bed, her dress pulled up over her waist and her little penis fully erect and pointing towards her tits. I crawled on the bed and straddled her. While she grinned and watched, I pulled the condom out of my bra, and tore it open. Her grin got bigger.

"Were you planning this all along?"

"All along," I whispered.

I tossed the foil wrapper towards the head of the bed, and unrolled the condom over her penis. She began to squirm with anticipation. I crawled up higher on her, grabbed her penis, aimed it at the ceiling, and slowly lowered my pussy over it. She slid into me with exquisite pleasure. I began to wiggle and squirm and move her penis around. I sat still and tensed and relaxed my vaginal muscles several times as I manipulated her penis. She groaned softly and closed her eyes. I tensed my muscles and slowly raised myself up. She groaned again. I slid down on her penis and she exhaled and sighed. I repeated the motion. Slowly. Up, then down. Tighten my muscles and slide up, then down. I could feel her inside me and it felt wonderful. I was very wet and she slid in and out so effortlessly. I rocked back and forth, bending her penis ever so slightly, but giving her additional pleasure and sensations.

Up and down, in and out. Slowly, then faster, and faster and faster … Our breathing picked up, my pulse rate jumped, the pleasure nerves in my pussy were reaching their saturation point. One more stroke. One more stroke. Faster, faster and then it hit me. I exploded in pleasure and intensity. I squeezed my muscles as tight as I could and Jasmine exploded inside of me. I pushed down as hard as I could, trying to force her as deep as possible into me. The pleasure was so intense that I gripped her hips and tried to hold her still. I couldn’t handle any more stimulation. Push down with my pussy and hips. Trap her deep inside me. Hold her hips so she can’t move. We froze in a tense muscle lock. Our breathing froze as we let the orgasms flow through us. I could feel my body shiver and quake as the orgasm shook me. Slowly, slowly my muscles started to relax. My breathing started in gasps, as I tried to breath through my mouth and remain quiet. I quit pushing with my hands and hips and pussy. I slowly began to relax as the remnants of the mighty orgasm retreated to my groin and pussy.

I opened my eyes and looked at Jasmine. She was gasping for breath as well. Her eyes looked into mine and we shared a secret smile. How wonderful that had been. The memory in all my nerve endings and muscles seemed to be recollecting and relishing the experience. I felt immensely happy. I started to feel very relaxed. I wanted to flop on top of Jasmine and kiss her. To lie on her and just enjoy her softness, smell her perfume and taste her lipstick.

Her little up turned nose looked even more like a button with her glasses pushed half way down her nose. Her make-up was perfect, from her glossy red lips to her eyes with their large curled lashes. And her curly hair framed her perfectly shaped face. Her cheeks were flushed and glowed with the exertion of our efforts. I would have loved to stay there for an hour, but I couldn’t. We had to move.

I raised my hips and let her fall from my pussy. "Stay here and protect your dress. I’ll be back."

I picked up my purse and went to the bathroom. I pulled the tampon from my purse and slid it into me. I threw the wrapper in the wastebasket. That should also give Charles something to think about. I took the used panty liner out of my panties and replaced it with a dry one. I pulled on my panties and went to help Jasmine.

I took a Kleenex, wrapped it around her condom and pulled it off. Then I gently wiped her juices off her shaft. I stroked her penis a couple of times to milk the remaining semen from her, and I soaked it up with the Kleenex. Then I held her dress as she slipped off the bed. I continued to stand behind her and silently hold her dress up, while she pulled on first her panties and then her girdle. I dropped her dress and picked up the used Kleenex. I took it to the toilet and flushed it away. I waved to Jasmine and silently called her into the bathroom. While she checked her makeup in the mirror, I stepped behind her and fluffed her hair and arranged her curls back into their proper position. I looked her over and checked to make sure that her makeup was proper.

"How do I look," I whispered. "Is my makeup ok?"

"You look fine," she said.

I went back to the bed and smoothed the comforter. I saw the condom foil laying next to a pillow. I smiled. Both Jasmine and I looked around and made sure everything was back to normal. Then we stepped over to the door.

"You really are easy," I said with a grin. "And you really are good. I loved that. You were wonderful."

"So were you," she answered. "So that is what this was all about. That’s why you wanted to come to this party. You wanted to have sex on his own bed, didn’t you?"

"No, that’s not it at all. I wanted to fuck on his bed. There’s a difference. What we just did was way to good to call sex. That was real fucking, Jasmine my sweetie."

She almost burst out laughing. "Ok," she whispered. "Are we ready to return to the party?"

"Big breath," I said. "Ok, now that you’ve been sewn back together we can go."

I immediately began studying people’s faces trying to see if anyone knew what we had done. Did anyone even miss us? Charles saw us and walked over. "Is everything ok?" he asked with sincere concern.

"Perfect," said Jasmine. "I’m all set and ready to party. I’m thirsty, would you make me another martini? That first one was excellent." Jasmine flashed me a grin as she followed Charles over to the bar.

The second half of the evening was as boring as the first half. Only the intermission made the evening worthwhile. I spent more time talking with the other attorneys, and Jasmine spent some time talking with Charles. It wasn’t long before the first couple left, which gave Jasmine and me our opportunity to escape.

We found Charles and I thanked him for the evening. He walked the two of us to the foyer and thanked us for coming. I turned and walked to the closet and took out my coat and put it on. I reached in for Jasmine’s coat and went to hand it to her, but she wasn’t with me. I looked around and saw her still talking with Charles. ‘I hope he didn’t discover what we did,’ I thought to myself. A few seconds later Jasmine came over and I helped her with her coat. She said nothing and had the oddest look on her face. I was worried, "Jasmine, what did he say? Did he hear us? Does he know what we did?"

She shook her head and said, "I’ll tell you in the car." She turned and walked out the door.

We walked out to the car and I helped Jasmine enter the passenger side, before I sat down behind the wheel. "Ok Jasmine, tell me what he said. Does he know we fucked upstairs? Are we busted?"

"No that’s not it. He … uhmmm … he asked me for a date."

My stomach went numb and my heart skipped a beat. "He what? What did you say?"

"He asked if he could call me."

"No!" I was still stunned, but I could feel a bit of humor sneaking into the back of mind. I was so stunned I couldn’t think of anything to say for a few seconds. Then the obvious question hit me, "What did you tell him?"

"I think I said yes."

"What? Are you serious? No, you’re kidding me, aren’t you?"

"I don’t think so."

"How could you? I mean, what did you say?"

"Well I was so flustered that I didn’t know what to say. I just hemmed and hawed for a minute and he said, ‘I know what you’re thinking. Here you are, a beautiful, no, a gorgeous, young woman, and some old man tries to hit on you. That’s not the way it is at all, Jasmine. I assure you that my intentions are strictly honorable. I’m lonely, Jasmine. Lonely for female conversation and companionship. You are so beautiful, and it was so easy talking with you tonight. I had forgotten how lonely I was. If you will go out with me, I promise that I will treat you as lady, and I will show you a good time. It will be a very pleasant and enjoyable evening. Please say yes.’

"So I said, ‘I’m not sure if this is a good idea.’

"He says, ‘Please, give me one chance. Tomorrow I leave for a two-week skiing vacation in the Canadian Rockies. When I return I’ll call you. Ok?’

"I guess I didn’t put up enough of a fight because he says, ‘Thanks, you won’t regret it. I don’t even need your telephone number since you live with Karen. I’ve got her home number at work. Thanks, Jasmine. I promise you’ll have a nice time.’

"And that was it. I was too numb to say anything. Not numb, shocked. I was so shocked that when he pointed me towards you and the door I just walked off."

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed. "Oh my god! What a hoot! This is just too rich. Jasmine, this is just too fantastic."

"It is? Why?"

"Don’t you see? Jasmine has been totally validated. Jasmine has arrived. Is there any doubt in your mind that you can pass as a beautiful, hot babe?"

She looked at me and a huge smile started to spread across her beautiful face. Yes, she could know see it also. She shifted in her seat and with that huge grin looked out the front window. She said nothing, just smiled. The snow was falling lightly and sparkling in the streetlights. The night was beautiful.

As I began the drive home, both of us were silent; filled with our own thoughts and fantasies. My fantasy had to do with Jasmine and two naked bodies. Something about her being wanted by a man made her that much more desirable. I was becoming infatuated with the idea of taking her when we reached home. It was strange in a way; I wanted the beautiful and feminine Jasmine, but I also wanted to be ravaged by a real man. I wanted to be the submissive one, and I wanted to succumb to a strong and dominating mate. I wanted more than her petite little penis in me. I wanted a cock the size of Mikey’s. I fantasized that Jasmine’s beautiful face looked down over me, as she pinned me to the bed and inserted a huge cock into my pussy, filling it so full that I thought it would burst. As I fantasized, I could feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter. I was sure that my panty liner was saturated and I was staining the back side of my dress. I began to squirm on the seat, and my foot started pushing harder on the gas pedal.

I have no idea what Jasmine was thinking … fantasizing … but we both rushed up to the apartment. We barely had the door closed and our purses were lying on the floor as we embraced in a tight clench. I had my tongue in her mouth immediately. She was pushing her smooth crotch against me and squirming against my pussy. I thought I could hear my soaking wet panty liner squishing like a sponge. I pushed my breasts against hers, and I could feel my nipples harden and become sensitive to the rubbing.

For once, I wanted my fantasy and not hers. I broke our kiss. "Let’s clean up and climb into bed. Tonight, I want you to take me. I want you to take charge, climb on top of me and do whatever you want. Just this once, I want to lay back and be the submissive one. I want you to forcefully take me to nirvana. Can you do that? Can you take total and complete control of my body and make it do whatever you want?" I licked her from her chin, across both lips and over her nose. "Tonight, do you think you can be man enough?"

"Absolutely my beautiful, Karen. But it’s Jasmine that wants to do this, not Jason."

"I understand, Jasmine. I’m yours."

"Then let’s wash off our makeup and put on the softest, silk negligees that we have. Now woman!" and she said it most convincingly.

I used the bathroom first, quickly taking off my dress and underclothes before my wet pussy leaked through my panty liner. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, sprayed on ever so lightly a bit of fresh perfume, and ran to my bedroom for my best silk negligee. I jumped into Jasmine’s bed and waited for her … but I couldn’t wait. One hand found its way to my breast and a finger slowly began circling my nipple, making it hard and sensitive. The cool and silky feeling of the silk on my nipple was the most exquisite feeling. My other hand slid across my stomach and down to my crotch. It pulled up the bottom of my negligee and exposed my soaking wet pussy. One finger, two fingers and then three fingers slid into my pussy. My hips started rocking in rhythm with my fingers sliding in and out of my pussy. A finger slid up to my clit and gently rubbed it and massaged it. The hips began arching and as one finger caressed my clit, two others slid in and out of my pussy. My nipple was feeling awesome, tingling and at the same time trying to recoil from the strong and erotic sensations running through it.

I soon reached orgasm. One hand grabbed my breast and the other grabbed my entire crotch. My hips arched into the air and froze in a spasm of pleasure. My muscles locked while the sensations ran through me and over me. The nerve endings slowly began to relax from their over-stimulation, and the muscles soon began to follow. I fell back into the bed, sweating and panting. I was hot and I kicked the sheet off my body. I was still lying with one hand on my breast and one on my crotch when Jasmine entered.

"Can’t wait?" she smiled. "Now it’s time for some real action." Jasmine crawled between my legs and began licking and sucking my clit. I was quickly pulled back into pleasure mode, my nerve endings were once again tingling and tensing. Jasmine reached under each cheek and dug her long, bright red nails into my flesh. My cheeks reflexively tightened and pushed my pussy up into Jasmine’s tongue. I started to begin pushing my pussy and hips in a rhythmic pattern. Jasmine rode along. One of her hands slid out from under my buttocks and a finger slid into my pussy. Her finger stroked in and out of my pussy as her tongue continued to lick and suck on my clit. She soon brought me to another spasm of pleasure.

After my muscles relaxed, I fell back into the bed and begged for time. "Please stop. I can’t continue right now. I need a moment."

Jasmine took the hem of my negligee and removed it by pulling it over my head, leaving my sweaty and glistening body fully exposed. She began to slowly rub her hand over my stomach. Her hand could glide easily with the lubrication of my sweat. First she used one hand and then both. They slowly worked their way towards my breasts. She caressed my breasts and massaged them for a several minutes, then they directed their attention to my nipples. Once again my nipples stood up under the direct stimulation. My body started to squirm and writhe in anticipation of further massaging and caressing.

Jasmine bent over and placed her soft lips upon mine. She slowly kissed me, being ever so gentle and feminine in her touch. She placed several very tender kisses upon my lips, then turned her attention to first my chin, and then my nose. She lowered her crotch onto mine and gently swayed her hips and penis over my crotch. While swaying her hips over mine, she leaned to the side and kissed my ear. She nibbled my earlobe then slipped her tongue into my ear. I squirmed and pulled away, but she merely giggled softly.

She continued to press her penis and hips against me as she moved her attention to my other ear. Again and again I received her warm, wet tongue in my ear. It raised goose bumps all over my arms and neck. This time I leaned into her and let her nibble and lick my ear. My pussy was getting wetter and hotter, and Jasmine continued to push her penis and hips against me. I began returning the pressure, pushing my hips up against hers.

Jasmine had come prepared, a condom was already stretched over her tiny penis. She raised her hips and without any guidance, was able to slip her penis into my inviting pussy. At first I was disappointed; she was so small. I wanted a large penis that would stretch me to my limit. I wanted to be filled and pummeled and taken to the absolute limit of my physical abilities. But then Jasmine began gently pumping her penis into me. Somehow she had discovered, either by luck or study, how to directly stimulate my clitoris. Jasmine felt wonderful. "Harder," I said as I closed my eyes. She began to slowly increase her pressure and her speed. Her decision to slowly ramp up was the perfect decision. She began to suck me into her world of passion, as I began to feel the joy spreading throughout my entire body. I even curled and tightened my toes as I reached to feel my entire body and stretch my consciousness.

Jasmine slowly, deliberately and erotically brought me to the best climax of my life. I still don’t understand how she actually accomplished it, but there was no doubt. I spasmed in sensual delight. My pussy tried to pull Jasmine into my own little universe. The epicenter of a colossal quake was located right between her cock and my pussy. I felt like I had lost control of my body. I could only experience the sensations, I couldn’t control them, but that was just fine. I loved the experience and let it flow through and control me. It was pure bliss.

Jasmine locked her penis into me and froze as she experienced her own orgasm. Her hips didn’t get the message, as they involuntarily continued thrusting. We clenched for what seemed a minor eternity as we both lost control. Slowly, we regained our bodies, and were once again able to move under our own control. Jasmine dropped her entire weight onto me as she relaxed and tried to catch her breath. We gently embraced and laid as one for several minutes as we both tried to regain our composure.

Eventually, Jasmine gave me a gentle kiss and rolled off me to lay on her back and stare at the ceiling. "That was wonderful," she said.

"I agree."

On Sunday morning Jasmine, as usual, was up and about long before me. We had breakfast and lounged around the apartment for most of the morning. In the afternoon we dressed and went window shopping at the local mall. We returned for an early dinner and then again settled back into our easy chairs to read and watch TV. About nine that evening I told Jasmine to take a shower and wash her hair. "I’ll set your hair for tomorrow. You get to wear curlers in your hair tonight while you’re sleeping."

"Are you going to make my hair curly?" she asked warily.

"Not at all. I’m going to use relatively large rollers and give your hair more body. When you brush it out in the morning, your hair will have more body and bounce. It will look more finished."

"But it won’t really make any difference, will it? I mean I’m going to wear my hair pulled back in a ponytail, right?"

"No, you’re going to wear your hair down and in your new style. It looks much prettier and feminine."

"Karen, I already look too feminine. You’re just going to make my life more difficult. The girls will be all over me. Please, I’m getting tired of it. I need a break."

"Jasmine, I guess it’s time to tell you something. I have some good news and some bad news." I looked at her waiting to see if she had a preference.

"And …?"

Bad news first. "Remember Friday when I sent you to the court house to deliver those papers?"

"Yeah."

"I sent you away because Lisa was coming to fire you. I wanted to give you a chance to prepare your self, so I sent you out. Tomorrow morning first thing she is going to return to your cubicle and fire you."

"What …?"

"I’m sorry, Jasmine. I’m really, really sorry. Tomorrow morning you will be fired."

"How do you know?"

"Because I’m the human resource department’s first contact in the law department. I handle the routine documents, and pass the more important documents up the line. Last Wednesday I received the documents preparing to terminate you. I sent them to my boss John Taylor. On Friday, just before lunch, HR sent back the confirmation papers to me, and I gave them to Taylor. So before Lisa could get to you, I sent you out of the office. But tomorrow morning, at 8:00 A.M. she will be back and she will serve you with the termination papers."

"So you waited until now to tell me? Why?"

"Actually, I wasn’t going to tell you until tomorrow morning."

"Why not?" she demanded. She was becoming irate.

"Because there is nothing that you can do about it. So why should you have ruined your weekend over this? You would have been a wreck all weekend. You never would have been able to enjoy your day at the salon or the party. It wasn’t worth throwing away those enjoyments."

"In your opinion. This is my friggin’ life! If you had told me I wouldn’t have went to the hair salon! I would have changed back to my old look and I would have tried to keep my job! You had no right to do this to me!"

"Jasmine," I spoke softly and slowly, "there really was nothing you could do about this. They’ve been collecting complaints and writing reports for weeks. Yes, I pushed the whole situation along faster when I asked you to start wearing female clothes to work, but I assure you it was going to happen anyway. From day one the girls were on your case. They were convinced you were gay and they were already working towards a really negative situation. Until I came along, they wouldn’t even talk with you. It was going to happen, I just got it over sooner." I gave her my best ‘I’m sorry’ body language.

"Karen," she tried to explain, "you haven’t had to go through what I have. My entire life has been a pain. I have nothing. No family, no home and now no job. I have absolutely nothing. What am I going to do? What do I have to look forward to?" The emotion started creeping in, "I’m lost and I have no fucking clue where to go. Jesus, you’ve fucked me up good! I’m on goddamn depression pills already! You might as well buy me a gun, I’ll finish it off! Will that make you happy?" Now she was in screaming mode.

It’s strange the thoughts that go through ones mind at a time like this. I thought, ‘She doesn’t mean depression drugs, she means anti-depressants.’ She was right about many of the things she had said, but not all of them. She had a future and it was the future she really wanted. I just had to convince her.

I walked over to her and gave her a big hug. She grabbed me and started sniffling on my shoulder. I whispered in her ear, "Jasmine, I told you I had good news and bad news. You didn’t let me tell you the good news."

"I can hardly wait. What? My parents were killed in a car accident?"

I resisted the opportunity to say, ‘Yes.’ "Jasmine, it’s the best possible news that you could possibly have. Now you can be Jasmine. All the time, full time. We can leave Jason behind and move on to the next, better phase in your life. You can live full time as Jasmine. You can get a job as Jasmine and live your life as a beautiful, gorgeous, sexy and totally complete woman. It will be great. You’re going to love your new life."

"Oh great. That’ll solve everything. My life is so ruined that I have to run away and hide myself as a girl. Oh yea, that’s really good news." she said sarcastically. "Karen, don’t you get it? Jasmine is a fantasy! She isn’t real. We play at the game of ‘Jasmine’. We don’t live it! It’s a weekend game. That’s totally different."

I grabbed Jasmine by the shoulders and gave her a little, but firm, shake. "Drop the little pity-party," I said loudly. "Quit you’re whining, Jasmine. Stop lying to me and stop lying to your self! This is the best possible thing that could ever happen to you, and if you climb out of your self-pity you’ll see it yourself." I looked her in the eye and gave her my best ‘serious-shit’ glare. I relaxed my voice and tried to talk with a calm reassurance, "Sweetie, let me explain some things to you. First, and by far the most important, you … are … not … alone." Even in a quiet voice, I wanted to enforce those words. "I am here with you and I will not abandon Jasmine. Jason can go and I will be happy to see him leave. Jason is all the baggage that you have accumulated throughout your life. Now we are going to throw it away. Jasmine doesn’t need any of it. She is too good, too happy, and too positive to need any of that crap. Do you hear me?"

She nodded her head just a bit.

"Good. Tomorrow we finish off Jason. We do it with utmost class. Jason wears nice clothes and a pretty hairdo and he smiles. He stands tall and proud as he throws away all the bogus baggage in his life. And on Tuesday, Jasmine’s life begins. She becomes Jasmine full time, 100% of the time. She starts writing her résumé and sending it out. She dresses like a beautiful, cultured woman full time. She walks, talks and lives in a confident and successful manner. Look out world, here comes Jasmine."

She stood still, her shoulders slumped, her eyes red and just looked at me. No smile. No frown. Nothing. She was just numb. She stood like that for almost a minute. Finally she spoke, "I wish I could believe you. I really do, Karen. I love you."

‘Oh, oh’ I thought.

Jasmine continued, "But this is too much. Yea, my life has sucked up ’til know, and lord knows that I want to believe you, but my life doesn’t allow that. I’ve never experienced the positive in anything, but I sure as hell know about the negatives. I have a life’s worth of experience there."

She hugged me again and asked in a desperate whisper, "Karen, can Jasmine really live? Can she really survive in the real world?"

"Absolutely. And I will insist on it. Come on Jasmine, you know it too. You’re beautiful and every guy in the world is in love with you. Even my boss! To say you can pass is an insult to you. You are so far beyond that, that it is totally irrelevant. All you need to do is to believe in Jasmine as much as I do. Once you believe, the world will become your oyster." I squeezed her tighter and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Jasmine, this is your fantasy, everything that you have ever wanted. It’s Cinderella’s time now. Put on the glass slipper and kick the world in the nuts, hard."

She snorted and laughed a little.

"Listen, I want you to go in the bathroom, dump half the bubble bath in the tub and turn on the water. Make it nice and hot. Relax and soak up the warmth. When you’re ready, wash your hair and wrap a towel around it. I’ll set your hair and you’ll be ready for bed. Karen and Jasmine can cuddle together tonight and enjoy our closeness tonight. Tomorrow, Jason walks out with class and welcomes the most beautiful girl in the world. Ok?"

A small nod from Jasmine. I hugged her for another minute then sent her on her way. The end was coming.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Monday morning I got up first. I looked down at Jasmine and smiled. Her head was full of curlers and she looked so beautiful. Her negligee strap had slipped off her shoulder and she looked very innocent, but sexy. I hurried through my morning routine, because I wanted to help Jason get ready for work for his last time ever.

While Jason was cleaning up and brushing his teeth I laid out his clothes for the day. I brought in my very best power suit. I would have loved to send him to work in a skirt, but instead I gave him the pants. On his bed I included the usual bikini panties, corset, camisole, nylons and a nice pair of women’s shoes, conservative of course. Jason returned to his bedroom and quietly dressed. He was in a somber mood and I said little to him.

After dressing, I led him to my vanity and sat him down. I began to unroll the curlers in his hair. One by one I removed all of the rollers and dropped them in my curler bucket. I took my brush and began brushing away all of the soft curls. I brushed his hair straight down from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck. I used the brush to form a slight under curl to the bottom of his hair. It made his neck look long and slim. He looked very pretty, and feminine. I sprayed the hair with just a bit of hairspray to hold it down in the wind. I handed him his usual pair of hoop earrings.

"You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever known, Jason. Goodbye." I handed him his purse. "When we get to work, I’ll give you my car keys so that you can leave when you’re done. Don’t forget your wallet and ID. The rest of the day is yours. Go shopping, go walking, go to the mall. Do whatever you want, but don’t come home. Don’t hide your self. Put some makeup in your purse, apply a little lipstick and foundation before you go wandering around. Stay out there in the real world. Promise?"

"I promise."

"Great. Do you have a tampon?"

I drove us to work. After I parked the car I leaned over and handed Jason the keys. "Jason, stand proud and stand tall. Don’t let Lisa goad you into anything. No arguments, no insults, nothing. Smile at her and remember, this is a horrible little hole in the life of Jason and it is now gone. This is your celebration. Ok?"

A reluctant, "Yea."

"Leave your purse here, you don’t want to be forced to carry it around the office. There is a pocket in the suit coat for the car keys. Be brave, sweetie."

For the rest of the morning I stayed in my office and out of sight. I wasn’t much happier than Jason, and I sure as hell felt a lot more guilty.

I left the office at 5:30 and took a taxi home. Jasmine was waiting for me. She had changed into a skirt and blouse. I was happy to see that she hadn’t changed into one of her sweat suits. I could smell dinner cooking and I asked her about it.

"I decided to take your advice. No pouting at home. I don’t have any income and so in essence I’m a kept woman. Sort of like a wife. So I’ve decided to be your wife."

"Jasmine, I’m not looking for a wife."

"I know, I mean it figuratively. I have to contribute some how. I’ll take care of cleaning, and cooking and house keeping until I can find another job. I have to contribute some way, and this was all that I could think of."

"That’s fine," I said. "So what’s for supper?"

After supper we sat down at her computer and worked on her résumé. Her new name was Jasmine Calli Vail, but she still had the same social security number. She had to keep everything legal. If someone cross-referenced the social security number and her name they would know that she was bogus and she wouldn’t get a job. We’d just have to take that chance. For job experience we merely said that she had some intern work straight out of school, but had not been offered a full-time position because of the economy. She listed Tara and me as her references.

"Before you can send this out, you have to call Tara and ask her permission to list her as your reference."

"I know," she said.

"You can call her tomorrow at her work number. And while you have her on the phone, set up an appointment for your-self."

"For an interview? Isn’t that a little presumptuous?"

"It will be for an interview, but there is nothing presumptuous about it. You are going to interview her … or him I should say."

"Why?"

"Because you are going to sue your ex-employer."

"I am?"

"Yes you are. Several weeks ago I asked Tara what types of law she specialized in. She should be able to handle your case, and I believe that she will have special incentives to try extra hard."

"What kind of incentives?"

"First, money. Big money. Tell her you want to sue for four million dollars or more. If she wins she gets a third of that." Jasmine’s eyes opened a little wider and the corners of her mouth started to turn up. "Second, you’re suing for harassment in the workplace, sexual harassment, unlawful termination and everything else that she can add on. Being a transvestite like you, she should have plenty incentive to not only fight for you, but hopefully set some precedents."

Jasmine thought about it for a minute and then asked, "Do you really think we can sue for four million dollars?"

"Jasmine, you won’t get that much money. Not even close, and that’s assuming you even win. But you should hit them with the biggest number that you and Tara can come up with. She might have to do a little research to see what kind of numbers have been thrown in front of the court before. But that’s her job.

"It’s important that you and Tara get moving on this as soon as possible. It’s important that you move while everything is still fresh in your mind. Get all of your thoughts, your concerns, your emotions on paper or video tape now. Tell her how you’re on anti-depressants because of the harassment at work. Make sure that she gets everything that she can from you now. Tell her who knows what, who was involved in different things and most importantly, dates. She needs dates to help with her subpoenas for information and records from the company. Make sure that she gets all of your e-mails and weekly reports to Lisa. Everything."

"Do you think I can win?"

"Anything is possible, but it won’t be easy. They will try and drag the process out so long that you give up, or at the least become demoralized by the process. They’ll harass you with paperwork, and requests for information. They’re going to check out your background and probably watch what you do in private. They’ll threaten to or actually contact friends and family to embarrass you. This is a special case where they will think they have leverage over you because of your lifestyle. It won’t be pretty."

"My parents? Do you think they will really contact my parents? And my brother?"

"I’m not sure, but you should expect it. For a potential million dollars they will do a lot of things."

"But it will be worth it if I can win. I can handle my parents now. Jason never could, but Jasmine will."

"That’s great. I’ve been waiting a long time to hear that Jasmine. But don’t start counting your eggs just yet. You have to start with baby steps. Call Tara and make the appointment. See what she says. She is a real attorney, and I’m just a corporate paper pusher.

"And also tomorrow, I want you to go downtown and sign up for unemployment. That will also be necessary to bolster your lawsuit. Make sure that you dress nicely when you go out tomorrow. I’m not going to set out your clothes for you anymore. You will have to learn to dress yourself. And another thing, I want you to collect all of Jason’s male clothing and donate them to Goodwill."

Jasmine made a big sigh. "This really is the end of Jason, isn’t it?"

"Yep. He was a nice boy, but the prettier and better model is taking over now. Right?"

"I guess so." I gave her a hard questioning look. "I know so," she said firmly.

Tuesday I returned from work, eager to hear how Jasmine’s day had went. The aroma of roast beef met me as I walked in the door. Jasmine greeted me at the door with a big kiss.

"Hi Karen, welcome home. How was your day?" she asked with a smile and a definite bounce in her step.

"Boring and degrading as usual. Did you do everything I told you to do?"

"Mostly. Come on, dinner’s ready. You have to start coming home at a more decent hour. Dinner has been ready for 45 minutes and I refuse to take the blame if you think the roast is too dry."

"I’ve only had a wife one day and I’m already being henpecked," I complained.

Jasmine broke into a big smile. She liked hearing me call her my wife. "You can complain later, first let’s eat," Jasmine said.

She had set an elegant table, complete with a white linen tablecloth and candles. "Where did the tablecloth come from?" I asked.

"I bought it today, while I was out shopping."

"Jasmine, you can’t do that. You have to save your money."

"I have a little money saved, thanks to you. If I want to spend it on the best person in the whole-wide world then I will."

I was amazed at her high spirits. She had been handed a world of troubles and challenges just a day earlier, and here she was bouncing around the kitchen. I wondered how much was due to the Paxil and how much was due to the new Jasmine. I sat at the table and she began placing dinner on the table; roast beef, potatoes, cooked carrots and a salad.

"What would you like to drink?" she asked me.

"Do we have any red wine?"

"We do now," and she brought a bottle from the refrigerator.

It occurred to me that not only did she buy the tablecloth and candles, but she also bought the food. "Jasmine, let’s make some arrangements for buying groceries and odds and ends for the house. You can’t afford this, and I don’t want you spending your money on day-to-day necessities. You’ll need your money for other things, like a retainer for Tara."

"That won’t be necessary, Tara isn’t going to charge me any money up front. She, I mean he, said he would work strictly on contingency."

"Then you called him today? What did he say? Did you make an appointment?"

"Yes I called him. We talked for almost an hour. I’ve got an appointment for Thursday morning."

"What did you talk about for an hour?"

"Mostly about me, Jasmine. Somewhere along in the conversation I told him that I was going to live full-time as Jasmine, and he got totally hyped over that. We talked about what I was going to do, and how I was going to live and everything. It was a great conversation."

"What did he say about your case? Anything?"

"Not really. We discussed it a little, but I think he needs to sit down and go over it in more detail on Thursday. Today we talked mostly about me."

"And did you go down to the unemployment board?"

"Yes," she said disgustedly. "Don’t get me started."

"What?" I wanted to know. "Did you have a problem?"

"No, just the same ole governmental runaround and BS. The only good thing I can say about the company, is that they prepare you well as they kick you out the door. The hour I spent in HR before the security people walked me to my car was well spent. I had every document they asked for. But it’s such a hassle dealing with those people. They treat you like dirt, and they move at a snail’s pace."

"Did they give you any heat because you were Jasmine and not Jason?"

"No, none. They couldn’t have cared less. You’re just a faceless piece of paper to them. I could have been green for all they cared."

"So everything is handled there? You’ll start getting an unemployment check?"

"Yes and maybe. Everything is handled, but who knows when their bureaucracy will actually send out a check."

"Well good. At least that little detail is handled. And what about your résumé? Did you finish it?"

"Yep. But before I do anything with it, I thought I might show it to Tara. She said that she sees lot’s of résuméss, and she will help me punch it up, and also check it over to make sure everything is legal. She even offered to help me change my name. What do you think? Should I change my name?"

"Absolutely. That’s a great idea. Go for it."

The rest of the week went along with no problems. Jasmine started to settle into a routine as the wife of the house. She continued to work on her résumé, and she started going through the local paper and on-line listings for potential employers. The rest of her time she began taking up household chores, cleaning the bathroom and washing clothes.

In the evening she would meet me at the door with a big kiss and the aroma of dinner. Her cooking wasn’t too bad. And I started coming home a little earlier each night. My future at work was limited, and so there was no reason to knock my self out. I’d be fired soon enough.

Jasmine met with Tara and they began planning their lawsuit. After listening to Jasmine’s account of their meeting, I was becoming more comfortable with recommending Tara. She/he sounded very competent and honest. He promised Jasmine nothing but hard work and a sincere effort on his part. But some of the questions and comments he made clearly showed the mind of a talented attorney. I was happy that Jasmine had tied up with Tara.

Friday night was a little different when I arrived home. I didn’t smell any food cooking. Jasmine met me at the door with a big kiss. She was dressed in a pretty white dress that extended all the way to two inches above her knees. It was a clingy knit and either she had lost some weight or she had pulled her corset extra tight, because her figure looked like the proverbial hourglass. She had bright red lipstick and her eyes had heavy mascara and shadow.

"What’s with this?" I asked looking at her beautiful dress and figure.

"You’re taking me to dinner tonight."

"I am?"

"Yes you are. I slaved over a hot stove all week for you and now you’re taking your wife out to dinner to show her how much you appreciate her." She gave me big smile and almost danced in her heels.

"Jasmine," I said seriously, "You are not my wife. Please, I don’t want you to start thinking that way. You’re not my wife and I’m not your husband. Ok?"

My comments didn’t dampen her spirits at all. "I know, I know. But I still slaved over a hot stove all week and you owe me."

"I think I repaid you when I sent in the rent check, the utility checks and gave you a hundred dollars cash for food."

"I know. I really, really appreciate everything that you have done for me. I’d never be the woman I am today if it wasn’t for you. Shall we go?"

"Jasmine, we don’t have that much money between us. And who knows how much longer I’ll have a job? We can’t make it a habit of going out to dinner every Friday or Saturday night."

Her happy feet slowed and she calmed down. "What do you mean ‘who knows how much longer you’ll have a job?’ "

"Nothing, just a bad day at the office."

"You’re not paying for dinner tonight. Tara is. She left work early so she could get ready for us. We’re going to meet her at the restaurant. Ok?"

"Why does she want to buy us dinner? What did she say at your meeting yesterday?"

"She wants to buy us dinner because this is the best lawsuit she has ever had. She really wants to set a precedent and she is going to work very, very hard. She just wants to say thank you for the opportunity."

"Why didn’t you tell me this last night?"

"You didn’t ask. Can we go now?"

We met Tara at a nice restaurant near her home. It wasn’t too expensive, but it had nice food. "This is one of the few restaurants where I feel comfortable as Tara," she explained.

"Why?’" asked Jasmine. "You’re very pretty and utterly passable. You shouldn’t have any trouble no matter where you go."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence Jasmine, but that’s not totally true. I’m not nearly as pretty or feminine as you. You have a beautiful face, cute nose — very feminine I must say — and small features such as neck, shoulders, wrists, hands. You have no problem passing because of all of those things. I on the other hand still have a beard and I am ‘man-sized’. I don’t pass nearly as well as you think. You see Tara through rose-colored glasses and I adore that in you, but the rest of the world doesn’t see me that way. So I have to be a little more careful than you."

"I also think you look wonderful," I added.

"You’re both too kind." The waiter arrived with a glass of wine for each of us. Tara raised her glass and offered a toast, "To success," she announced.

We all toasted. "So what do you think Jasmine’s chances are?" I asked.

"It’s always hard to tell in these things. Probably 50/50 right now. But you never know until you’ve had a chance to subpoena some records and things and take a look at them. We might find some useful information that we can use against them."

"Like what?" I asked again.

"You just never know. We have to show that there was a deliberate attempt by some people to establish a hostile working atmosphere. Then we need to show that the company knew, but did nothing. Plus, we are going to have to battle the part that Jasmine willingly dressed in inappropriate clothing and that it was therefore all her fault. It was her choice to do this. We have to fight the sexual stereotypes of clothing, and argue that clothing is no excuse for a hostile work environment.

"Then they will try and complicate the matter by arguing that her job performance was sub par, and this was brought about by her own decisions — especially concerning her manner of dress. We have to show that if there were any performance changes, they were due to the hostile atmosphere and lack of cooperation by other employees. A lot of this depends on how they try and defend themselves.

"There are just so many unknowns, that we can’t really plan much at this time. There are going to be a lot of he said, she said issues. It will eventually come down to which side is more credible, unless of course hard evidence in the form of memos or e-mails shows up. But what I do know is that this is exactly the type of case I have been waiting for. I’m going to give it absolutely everything I’ve got."

I had a few files that I wanted Tara to subpoena, but I would wait until after the first set of files and evidence was collected and reviewed.

"Tara, what kind of timetable are you looking at?"

"Realistically, we won’t be filing anything until after the first of the year. Then I would say six to twelve months before we go to depositions and maybe another three to four months after that before the trial even starts. It will take well over a year, I’m afraid."

"A year or more?" Jasmine asked disconsolately.

"Sorry, Jasmine. These things usually drag on a long time. One of their most potent allies is time. If they can drag it out long enough, they hope they can wear you down. They hope the attorney fees cause you to start second guessing your-self. They hope you just get tired."

"What do you think about early settlement?" I asked.

"Not a chance unless we have the slam dunk and they know we have it."

I looked at Jasmine, "It looks like were in this for the long haul, sweetie."

"I guess, so."

We had a lovely evening with Tara. The dinner was excellent and afterwards we went to a nice nightclub nearby. It was a short night and we were home by eleven o’clock. Jasmine had been home alone most of the week and she was interested in some human contact. So we indulged in some intimate human contact for the better part of an hour. It was probably some of the slowest and most intimate lovemaking I have ever enjoyed.

As we cuddled afterwards, we enjoyed some pillow talk. We began talking about our futures and about Jasmine’s upcoming trial. After a while, Jasmine abruptly changed the topic. "Karen, what should I do about Charles. In a week or so, he’s going to call for a date. What do I tell him?"

"That’s easy, Jasmine. What do you want to tell him?"

"I’m not sure. In a way, I’m totally flattered. He thinks I’m a girl and he wants to take me out. But he’s a guy. I’m not interested in guys. And besides, now he’s the enemy."

"It’s still an easy decision Jasmine. Do what makes Jasmine happy. You say that you aren’t interested in men, but I have a feeling there is some curiosity in you. Am I right?"

"Yea. I am interested in being treated like a real girl. The other thing is, I was never any good with girls. I couldn’t make small talk, and I couldn’t interest them in me. I’d kind of like to see first hand how a real man does it."

"That’s fine Jasmine, but in a way you already know a little bit about that. I mean, how did he talk you into even considering going out with him?"

"That’s true. I guess the answer is that he was honest with me. It was like he understood me and knew what my concerns and anxieties were. And that is what he talked about."

"There you go. But you can still go out with him. There is more to learn in that area, and there’s some other things I think you want to see, aren’t there?"

"Karen, you know me so well. Did you study psychiatry?"

"I’ll tell you the truth. No, I have no experience in this area, and no, I don’t know how I understand you so well. Maybe all this has been an epiphany for me also. I’ll be honest, I was never an empathic person. Some things have happened that I cannot explain. They just sort of happened. I mean, some things happened for the wrong reason and turned out right even though the motives were wrong. This has really been weird."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Nothing. At least not yet. I still have a lot to see through and I have no idea how you or I got here where we are. Totally weird. But back to the subject. You’re interested in seeing how he treats you aren’t you? And you want to see how it feels to be treated like a woman. Am I right?"

"Damn, you say you don’t have a clue, but you do know what I’m thinking."

"Call it beginners luck. Jasmine, go for it. Say yes and have a wonderful time. Don’t worry about who’s the enemy. In some ways he is totally oblivious to all of this." And in many ways this is all his fault, I thought to myself. He’s the boss and he’s ultimately responsible for his department. The buck stops at the top and he is the top.

I had thought about this almost as much as Jasmine. It just so happened that she was the first one to bring it up. It was a good idea for Jasmine the girl to go on the date. And I could see some potential benefits for both of us from this date.

"Do you think he will figure out who I am?"

"Not a chance," I said. I was totally convinced of this. He had no idea who Jasmine was. Jasmine’s mailing address was a post office box. They had her former address at her parents and that was all. Nobody would be able to connect my roommate with Jason. They’d have to send out a private dick, and that wouldn’t happen–if at all–until the lawsuit was filed. There was just absolutely no reason to connect us. "You’ll be fine Jasmine. Go out and take advantage of his wallet. Make him pay for you. There is still one thing that I haven’t been able to help you learn. Maybe he can do it."

"What are you talking about?" she asked suspiciously.

"You’ve never learned how to be high-maintenance. Take him to the cleaners. Order the most expensive items on the menu. Make him bend over backwards to prove he is a gentlemen and that he knows how to treat a woman like a woman. I’ll tell you Jasmine, you’re never going to learn that from me," and I laughed in the darkness.

"That’s for sure," she concurred.

Saturday night we went out on the cheap. We had dinner at home and then went out to a nightclub. Jasmine had her choice of clubs and she chose Glitter. And as luck would have it, we met Tara. Sunday was routine as were the next few weeks. Jasmine played the wife and I played the bread-winner. During the day she dressed nicely, went out on her errands, worked on her résumés, mailed out hundreds of them, and then welcomed me home at night.

I had warned her that there was almost no chance of finding a job before the end of the year. Most companies were low on budget, many people were gearing up for Christmas and vacation, and people just were not going to spend time thinking about hiring. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she did understand. Plus it bought more time without raising her anxiety level.

On Wednesday, Jasmine got a late evening call from Canada. Charles’ was coming home on Friday, the day before Christmas. He had spent two weeks skiing and he just couldn’t get a certain beautiful woman out of his mind. He asked Jasmine for a date the following week. He wanted to take her out on New Year’s E ve. I heard her answer as she giggled ever so slightly and said yes. As soon as she hung up the phone she asked me, "Can I spend some money next week?"

Before she could continue I said, "I know what you want. Go ahead. Make an appointment tomorrow. What are you going to do?"

"I’d like to get a permanent, a manicure and wax my legs. Is that asking too much?"

"Not for a hot date," I answered

She bounced over to my chair and jumped in my lap. She hugged me around the neck and kissed me. "I want you to know that I love you more than any thing in the world. Even hot sex. So don’t get jealous. I just want him to spend a thousand dollars on me, worship the very dirt I walk on, treat me like a princess and then I want to come home and drive you to multi-orgasmic heaven. At least that’s my plan. Is that ok with you?"

I laughed and responded, "That should be ok. I could do a lot worse." We kissed for a few more minutes and then I said, "I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, it’s not that I’m a voyeur or anything, but I want you to take my camera and take lot’s of pictures. I want to take a picture of the two of you when you leave. And during your date, I want you to ask every person that walks by to take your camera and take a picture of the two of you enjoying your evening. Is that asking too much?" I repeated the phrase she had used.

"I’ll try. I promise."

The next weekend was Christmas. I was supposed to go home to my mom’s in Cincinnati and I asked Jasmine if she would go back with me. Jasmine had no desire to see her parents, so she agreed. We drove over on Wednesday night and returned on Sunday. During the days I showed Jasmine around Cincinnati and we went shopping the rest of the time. Friday night was Christmas Eve, and we opened presents at mom’s. Mom cooked a big dinner on Christmas day, and the three of us spent the day in the kitchen. Saturday night I took Jasmine to a local club and we picked up a couple of guys. I wanted Jasmine to get more experience dealing with men. It was a low key vacation and the best part was each night my girlfriend and I shared the double bed in my old bedroom.

On the following Friday, Jasmine went to Gina. Gina performed another miracle as she turned Jasmine into an absolute princess. She permed Jasmine’s hair, and gave her the exact same style that she had had the night she first met Charles. Only this time the style was permanent. God, Jasmine looked sexy! She had her brows waxed into a soft curve, her legs waxed and she got a manicure. When she came home later in the afternoon, she looked gorgeous and she didn’t even have her full makeup on. She was going to drive the boys crazy.

For the evening we chose a super-hot, ‘little black dress’. It had long lacy sleeves, a low cut V-neck, a wrap around waist that could be pulled tight to show off her tightly corseted waist, and it ended almost three inches above her knees. She wore black pantyhose with a full back seam and four-inch black heels. She added a single strand pearl necklace and two-inch drop earrings. She decided to wear her new fake glasses.

She had worn them when Mr. Pearson had first met her, and she had even started wearing them out to the clubs once in a while. It gave her a ‘new’ look and she thought she was sexy with them.

She over did the makeup, going with dark lavender eye shadow, heavily lined eyes and fake eyelashes. She used a darker than usual blush to give her cheeks a strong, sculptured look. And on top of it all, she outlined her lips and colored them in with a bright red lipstick. She looked hot enough to screw. I spritzed her with perfume and then sent her into the kitchen for a quick sip of wine to help calm her nerves.

"Do you have a tampon in your purse?" I yelled into the kitchen.

"Yea, yea ,yea," she yelled back. She was ready.

The door bell rang, and Jasmine froze like a deer in the headlights. Her eyes got big and she almost dropped her wine glass. I waved her back into the kitchen and out of sight, then I answered the door. "Hi Mr. Pearson. Jasmine is almost ready, let me get her."

I walked into the kitchen, and whispered in Jasmine’s ear, "This is it, sweetie. Relax and remember, you are beautiful. Have a nice time and make him spend all of his money." She giggled and walked out to meet her date. I walked behind her and I watched Mr. Pearson’s face as he saw Jasmine. He obviously was not disappointed. A huge smile spread across his face and he exclaimed, "Jasmine, you look more beautiful than I remembered. I love your dress."

"Thanks," she squeaked out.

"Ok folks, before you leave I want a picture of the two of you together. Jasmine go stand next to Mr. Pearson." I picked up my digital camera and took a picture of the two of them. "Smile," and the flash went off. I checked the picture and it looked good. "Mr. Pearson, put your arm around Jasmine. Jasmine, squeeze in a little tighter." I took a second picture and checked it.

"One more picture guys. I want to get you two off on the right foot and the easiest way to break the ice is for you to kiss. Jasmine, give Mr. Pearson a kiss." She gave me a nasty glance, and Mr. Pearson grinned. Jasmine placed her hands on his upper arms and he placed his hands on her hips. They leaned into each other and kissed. Flash! I gave Jasmine the camera and sent them on their way.

So there I was. I was sitting at home alone on New Year’s Eve. I was spending too much of my personal time taking care of Jasmine. I hadn’t been on a real date with a real man since Mikey. That was three or more months ago. ‘Screw it,’ I thought. Quit feeling sorry for yourself and get out of here.

I plugged in my hot curlers and took a quick shower while wearing a shower cap to keep my hair dry. After the shower I wrapped a towel around myself and took out my hot curlers and set my hair. I put on some lacy underwear and sat down in front of my vanity to apply my makeup. I took a hint from Jasmine and went for the dramatic look. I applied heavy eye makeup, and a luscious and creamy ‘almost red’ lipstick. I covered it with a rich gloss to give my lips a very wet and shiny look.

I went through Jasmine’s closet and found a hot dress that was too short for me. It was a dress that Jasmine couldn’t wear in public, because its low neckline required real cleavage. My push-up Wonderbra did the trick. I looked like a teenybopper in the short dress. It must have made me look five or seven years younger. I was definitely going to get carded tonight. I decided to go ‘full tramp’ and I put on a pair of Jasmine’s four-inch heels. I walked around in the heels for a few minutes and then came to my senses. I went back to the closet and switched to three-inch heels. I returned to my vanity and removed my curlers. I brushed out my hair, sprayed it and picked out the coat that I wanted to wear.

Then I had to decide where to go. I decided to head to the nightclub where Jasmine and I had met Leonard and Kenny. The evening was a bust. There were only a couple of single men there and they were not the keeping type. New Year’s Eve wasn’t the night to go trolling for men. All the good-looking ones had a date. I left before eleven. and went to Glitter.

I wasn’t at Glitter more than ten minutes before I met Tara. After saying hi, her first question was, "Where is Jasmine?"

"She has a date," I told her.

"A date? What do you mean? I thought you were a couple?"

"Not exactly. At least not as you think," I answered.

" I don’t understand," Tara said exasperatedly.

"Neither do I," I confessed. "I need a drink. What are you drinking?"

"I’m drinking that most Christmas drink of all time, tequila."

"Excellent. Me too."

I ordered a tequila sunrise, and we sat at the bar and continued to yell over the music. "So who is Jasmine’s date? Male or female?" Tara wanted to know.

"Oh Tara," I laughed. "This is so rich. She is on a date with a man. But you’ll have kittens when I tell you who."

"What kind of kittens?"

"Big ones. The size of cougars and pumas. She is on a date with Mr. Charles Pearson."

"Who?"

"The man whom you’re going to sue. The man that you will face in court."

"Say what?"

"What."

"Don’t be a smartass. This is business. Who is she out with?"

"Charles Pearson. The law director at Jasmine’s old company. When you go to court, he is the one you are going to face."

I was soon to find out that Tara swore a lot. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you talking about?" I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. "Are you friggin’ serious?"

"Yes ma’am," I smiled. "It’s a rather interesting story. I’ll have to tell you some time."

"Fuck’n yes you will. How about right now?"

"Not yet. Later."

Tara was concerned about her case. "Is she screwing up this case?"

"No, but Tara you have no idea how out of control this whole thing is. Shit has happened that nobody will ever figure out. If there really is a God, she must have a great sense of humor. Or else she’s a sadist. I’m not sure which."

"Karen, I have a gut feeling that there is a hell of a lot more going on behind the scenes than I know. Will you tell me what the fuck is really happening?"

"Trust me Tara, there isn’t much more to this than you already know. I have to tell you that I am also you’re adversary. I am the first contact for HR at the company."

"What?" she screamed. "When the fuck were you going to tell me that?" Like I said, Tara swore a lot.

"Eventually." I said. "Listen, I know enough to blow this whole case off the map. If you can’t win with the information that I will eventually give you, you’re incompetent."

"What are you talking about?" Tara was getting very interested. Her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were piercing. Even in full girl mode, her attorney sense was turned on full.

"I can’t tell you now. We have to play this semi-honestly. Start the suit, place your first round of subpoenas. Then at least I’m semi-covered when you go in for your second round. At that time I’ll tell you what to ask for. I have enough shit to pretty much cover Jasmine. But please, and I mean this, don’t ask for anything from me the first go-around. I promise, I’ll make it worth your time the second round."

"Is this some kind of set-up?"

"I promise, it’s not. Eventually I’ll try and explain." I looked at my drink, I looked at the ceiling, I chugged my drink and then I looked at Tara. "Tara, I don’t know how the hell we ended up where we are. I’m as mixed up as you are. And I was there."

She gave me a disgusted look and ordered two more drinks. We said nothing as the bartender, or the ‘tarbender’ as she addressed him, brought us our tequila. "Karen, what’s the bottom line on this shit? Come on, be honest with me."

"Tara, I’m not sure. Honestly, this whole thing got out of control. I never meant any of it." I took a sip of my drink. "No, at least I can be honest tonight. Some of it was meant. But damn, I’m not sure which parts. It kind of happened." I blinked a couple of tears away. "Tara, it got out of hand, then it got under control, then stuff happened, then the world came to an end and I ran out of booze. You know what I mean?"

"Karen, you’re insane. Come on. What’s the bottom line?"

"Oh, I don’t know." And I really didn’t. This was the first time that I really had to verbalize what had happened. What I had been involved in. "You said before that our chances are 50/50? I think they may be better than that. Maybe 51/49."

Tara just looked at me and slowly started to smile. We remained quiet for a few minutes as we sipped our drinks and listened to the music. We watched the couples out on the dance floor. It was New Years Eve. The girls were dancing with the girls and the boys were dancing with the boys. Eventually Tara turned to me and said, "Karen, did you know that I always used to fantasize about you?"

I was a bit taken aback, but the tequila was doing its job. I remained impassive. "What do you mean?"

"I was in love with you. I came here for months and months, and this place ignored me. The girls wanted nothing to do with any man, especially a TV, and the guys wanted nothing to do with me either. The boys were all looking for cute guys, not cute girls. Transvestites are the smallest minority in the world. Not even the Democrats can relate … no that’s not the right word. They can tolerate or forgive a homosexual. They can handle queers and lesbians, but no one can relate to or forgive a transsexual or transvestite. We are the ultimate lepers. If ever there were an outcast it’s us. As tolerant as the boy and girl gays are, even they pity the TVs. We are the lowest sexual fetish on this planet.

"I’m sorry, I digress a bit. I was in love with you. No one in this place would talk to me. Jesus, you have no idea how lonely I was. I was convinced that I was a friggin’ freak. Or worse. Then I saw you one night. You were beautiful, Karen. Believe me when I say, there is such a thing as love at first sight. I was in love with you. You walked in with Gloria. You sat right here at the bar and you ordered a beer. Trust me, I’ll never forget. You ordered a beer. A Miller. I sat over there and just stared at you. Goddamn you were beautiful. You were wearing jeans and a stupid flannel shirt. I thought that you had no friggin’ fashion sense. But I still thought you were gorgeous. Beautiful. Feminine. Sexy.

"You totally awed me. I was overwhelmed. I sat in my chair for almost half an hour trying to get up enough nerve to come talk with you. Finally, after another two or three tequilas I came over and sat down right here, next to you and said hi. Do you know what you said?"

"I haven’t got a clue Tara."

"You said ‘Hi’ right back to me. Then you said, ‘What’s your name?’ I was ecstatic. You had actually spoken to me."

"Tara, I have to admit, I had been here several times with Gloria. I only came here because we lived across the street. They have great burgers early in the evening."

"I know."

"Anyway, I am not gay and so I was never interested in any of the girls here. And of course none of the guys were interested in me. I would be occasionally approached by a CD or TV and quite frankly they all looked hideous. So other than the burgers, there was nothing here that I was interested in. But I kind of remember the first couple of talks that we had. You were the only TV that looked and acted like a real woman. In a way I found that fascinating. So you were the only person here that I enjoyed talking with."

"Thanks. And I found you absolutely ravishing. As I said, I fantasized about you. So Karen, can I ask you an impolitic question?"

"It’s New Years Eve Tara, and we’ve known each other for a long time. Have a go."

"What’s the relationship between you and Jasmine? I mean Jasmine is beautiful, much more so than me, but why didn’t you ever have any interest in me? I really need to know. Not just because I loved you, but because of how it relates to me as a girl in the real world."

I’m sure I blushed. She said she loved me. Only two people had ever said they loved me, and both of them were guys dressing as girls. What was wrong with me? "Tara, I can’t explain it you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t totally understand it myself. I’ve never been attracted to TVs or CDs. But that is where life has led me. You are beautiful Tara. And so is Jasmine. But I’ve always wanted a totally heterosexual relationship.

"But here I am, involved with beautiful men. This is difficult to explain. I really like Jasmine, but I don’t envision us ever having a lasting relationship. I just sort of fell into this. It’s almost as if I feel responsible for her, and so I have to take care of her. And here is the wild part Tara, because I’ve had her I’m more open to ... shall I say other options?"

Tara smiled and reached over to touch me on the arm. "Maybe …?"

"Tara, I need to go to the little girl’s room, would you join me?"

"Oh shit! Jasmine told me about you two. Christ yes, I’ll join you."

I took Tara’s hand and the two of us walked to the bathroom. As usual it was full. We stood towards the back, waiting for the handicap stall to open. A girl probably too young to be drinking here finally walked out and we quickly walked in. We both set our purses on the sink. Tara faced me and waited for me to make the first move. I reached under her dress and pulled her panties down to her ankles. I whispered in her ear, "Tara, are you a big girl?"

"I think I can please you," she smiled.

I pulled my panties down and stepped out of them. I threw them on top of my purse. "Sit down and hold your dress up," I whispered. She sat down and lifted up her dress. Her penis was pointing up and to the left. It was much bigger than Jasmine’s but not as big as Mikey’s. "Looks nice," I whispered. I grabbed my purse and pulled a condom out of the bottom. Tara just sat on the stool and smiled the biggest smirk I have ever seen. I unwrapped the condom and slid it over her cock as she held up her dress. "Dear, I’ve changed my mind. Maybe we should leave," I said with a grin.

"Karen, if you leave I’ll hunt you down and kill you," she laughed.

I straddled Tara and sat down on her lap. I took her cock in my hand and I gave it a few strokes. She grabbed my hand and stopped me. She leaned forward to whisper in my ear, "Karen, I’m going to cum as soon as you mount me. If you stroke me one more time I’m going to be limp. Let’s get to the chase."

I gave her a light kiss on the lips. "Bitch!" I said, and I sat on her cock. She was right. I clenched my vaginal muscles only once or twice and I could feel her cum. That wasn’t going to be good enough for me. I ignored her problem and started squirming around with her cock inside me. It felt much better than Jasmine’s. Much harder and much fuller. I began to move up and down and quickly realized that Tara wasn’t going to help me. She had already cum and even though she was going to try, it was up to me to reach orgasm. I used my legs to stand up and then sit down on her cock. Over and over I went through the motions, enjoying the feeling of a large cock inside me. It took several minutes but I finally reached my goal.

I eventually collected myself and gave Tara a careful kiss on the lips. "I’m sorry," she apologized. "I feel like a schmuck. I wish I could have another chance."

"Maybe another time, Tara. If it makes you feel any better, you’re much bigger than Jasmine." I paused for a second and then I whispered. "Oh yea, size does matter," and I grinned.

We cleaned up and returned to the bar. We talked about nothing for about another half hour and then I decided that I needed to return home. "Thanks, Tara. I enjoyed the evening." And I then I thought about our little adventure. "Tara, I do want to get together again. Ok?"

"I can’t wait," she said. I gave her a messy kiss and went home.

I reached home about half past one. and Jasmine was not there. I cleaned up and sat around until two thirty. Jasmine still didn’t return home so I got pissed and went to bed in my own room. I guess maybe I was a bit jealous. Fuck it! I hadn’t had a date with a real man in over months and Jasmine the transvestite was out with a real catch. I think I had cause to be pissed!

I never heard a sound until Saturday morning. I heard some pots and pans clanking in the kitchen. I looked at my alarm and it said 11:15. "Good mornin’ sleepy head," Jasmine said as I wandered into the kitchen. "Want some coffee?"

"Oh yea." I answered. "How was your date last night?" Jasmine handed me a mug.

"Great. It was a lot of fun." She picked up her own mug and sat down across from me. "First we had dinner at a real swanky restaurant. I didn’t even get carded. I guess there are some benefits in going out with someone as old as your father. And I took your advice, I ordered the most expensive item on the menu; lobster at market price. Charles ordered a bottle of wine for us, some real expensive white wine. I’m not sure what the name was, but it was pretty good. Oh, and wait a minute, I have something for you." She stood up and ran back to her bedroom.

When she returned she gave me a picture. It was the two of them sitting together in a booth with dinner in front of them. "They had a traveling photographer and I asked if we could have our picture taken. So there you are. It’s a pretty good picture I think."

It was a good picture. It had obviously been shot by a professional. "So then what did you do?"

"We went gambling. He took me to a casino with slot machines and crap tables and roulette and the whole ball of wax. He showed me how to play craps. I think we even came out ahead. Then we played blackjack for a while. Did you know that when you’re gambling they bring you free drinks?"

I chuckled, "Yea, I knew that."

"Well I didn’t. It was real classy. Then at eleven thirty we went to a show right there at the casino. They had a master of ceremonies and he told a few jokes and introduced several acts. At midnight they counted down and everyone kissed."

"You too?"

"Well I had to."

"Was he a good kisser?"

"He was alright for a fifty-year-old man. I would much rather have been kissing you." She fluttered her eyelashes and blew me an air kiss. The show lasted until two thirty. They had a magician, a comic, dancing girls and a couple of singers. It was pretty neat."

"So you had a good time?"

"Yep."

"Did you give him a goodnight kiss when he brought you home?"

"Yes, I thought I should. Was that ok?"

"As long as you didn’t slip him your tongue or grab his crotch." She gave me a dirty look and stuck her tongue out like she was going to gag. "And did he ask you out again?"

"Yea, he did."

"What did you say?"

"Well, I was stuck. I wasn’t sure and I stalled for a minute, then he said, ‘Did you have a good time?’ and I said yes and he said, ‘Good, let’s do it again, then. I’ll call you next week.’ And that was about that."

"Jasmine, you can’t go out with him again. Don’t forget whom you’re dealing with here. He is your adversary in a law suit."

"Well, I can collect more evidence against him, though."

"What are you talking about?"

"Pictures. That’s what you want the pictures for isn’t? You’re going to use them for blackmail, aren’t you."

"No!" I shouted. "That’s illegal and I have no intention of blackmailing the man."

Jasmine was stunned. "But … then what did you want the pictures for? You insisted that I collect lot’s of pictures on our date. I just understood that you had a purpose for wanting them."

"I do have a reason, but we are not going to blackmail anyone. And you can’t continue to lead him on. It’s very dangerous and could backfire."

"What do you mean?"

"The reason I didn’t mind you going out with him, is because if things get really nasty later on, and they could, the pictures might prove embarrassing to him. They were meant to be used as a little protection for both of us. I thought they might prevent him from going after you in a vicious manner. But if you drag this along and play him for a chump, then he might get so mad that he’ll want to get even. It might make him even more vicious. It’s a fine line we’re walking."

Jasmine settled back in her chair and sipped her coffee. "I see. You might be right. So what should I do?"

"I’ll have to think about it. My first inclination is to have you say no when he calls you. But later he might think that he was set up from the git-go."

"Was it? Was this part of your plan?"

"Jasmine, there was no plan. How could I have possibly predicted that he would fall for you? I didn’t even know he was divorced."

"Yea, your right."

"But there is another possibility. We could convince him that he’s not interested in you."

"How can we do that? I think he is ga-ga over me."

"We convince him that you’re not the kind of girl he wants. We show him that you’re immature, a party-girl, a drug user. I don’t know. Yes, I do know. I think this will work," as I thought for a moment.

"What? What did you think of?"

"You’re gay. Or maybe bi-sexual. That would be better. On your next date you ask him to take you to a nightclub, Glitter. You can drink and dance all night long and show him that you’re a young party girl and that you like, maybe even prefer, girls. You can ask Tara to meet you there and the two of you can hang together and sort of leave Charles on the outside. Don’t ignore him, that would be stupid, but you can have Tara spend most of the night with the two of you. You and her can dance and drink and talk and act girlish and maybe act a little immature. Giggle a lot. Touch each other and hold each other’s hands and stuff. Nothing over the top, but he’ll get the idea. What do you think?"

"I think that might work. I can still show him that I like him, but he is number two on my list. I’ll give him plenty of reason to wonder if he wants to hang with someone so young."

"There you go. That way he can walk away from you and not spend any more time or money on you. But you know, he is going to find out who you are at the trial. And that could be messy. It might work for us, or it might totally piss him off and he could go crazy. We’ll just have to play that one on the run. It’s too late to do anything about it."

"I just thought of something, what about Tara? What if he recognizes Tara? Then he’ll know for sure that everything was a setup."

"He will never recognize Tara. First, I can’t believe that she looks anything like Tara when she is not crossdressing. Second, it’s dark and very loud at the club."

"But even Tara admits that she doesn’t pass all the time. What if Charles figures out that she’s a TV?"

"It just reinforces you’re overall kinkiness quotient. It doesn’t hurt you at all. And it still doesn’t lead him from Tara the girl to Tara the lawyer. I think you’ll be ok. And there is one other reason for doing this."

"What would that be?"

"We’re so far in on this situation that I just like the irony of him meeting his opposing lawyer and client without even knowing it. Just a bit of irony for the novel I’ll write someday," and I smiled.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Charles called on Monday night and asked Jasmine for a date. Jasmine agreed but only if she could take him to her favorite nightclub. He agreed and so the event was set. The next day Jasmine called Tara and asked her if she would be available for the evening. Tara almost had those kittens when she heard Jasmine’s scheme. Tara refused to do it.

Jasmine called me at work and said Tara had refused. "Don’t worry," I said. "Let me talk to her." At lunch I stayed in my office. I closed my door and called Tara on my cell phone. Tara was not happy and thought we were getting in way over our heads. Speaking of heads, I had to make Tara a special romantic promise to get her to agree to our plan. The promise was collectable whenever and wherever she chose. The things that I did for Jasmine!

Saturday came and once again we dressed Jasmine to the nines. I had her wear a very short dress to emphasize her youth. I did her make-up and gave her a glittery club look. I had her wear long blue fake lashes and a bright blue eye shadow. She looked like a crazed twelve year old. I brushed a bit of glitter on her cheeks also. We went with a very bright red lipstick to complete the look. I found the longest, biggest drop earrings that I had and a large necklace with plenty of color. We painted her nails blue. We put her in four-inch heels and gave her a little red clutch purse. The only thing about her that showed her true beauty and taste was her hair. The permanent gave her hair a glorious style that I continued to love.

When Charles came to pick her up I made sure to watch his face when Jasmine made her entrance. She was chewing gum and said very loudly, "Hi Charles. Are you ready for a wild night of partying?" His expression was one of stunned surprise. I had to take another picture of them together, but Jasmine didn’t take the camera with her this time. Her purse was too small. But no problem, Tara took hers.

I would have loved to have been there and watched the show. I had to rely on Jasmine and Tara’s replay later. I don’t think the night could have gone any better. He had her home by one. He only lasted for one song in the drag show and then he announced that he should probably take Jasmine home. The final push may have been when Jasmine gave Charles a dollar and insisted that he give it to the drag queen. As they left, Tara gave Jasmine a full lip-lock kiss while she grabbed a handful of Jasmine’s ass.

When they got back to the apartment, Charles was the perfect gentlemen and walked Jasmine up to the apartment. He said he had a novel time, but didn’t ask about another date. Jasmine said she gave him a nice little kiss, and then rather than say goodnight she said goodbye. Charles also said goodbye and then he walked down the hall to the elevator.

The plan had worked. At least as far as we could tell.

For the next couple of weeks, life went on in dull routine. Jasmine worked on sending out résumés, doing a little shopping and keeping the house clean. She cooked dinner every night and always met me at the door with a welcome home kiss. Work was boring for me. I had lost all interest and was just going through the motions. I knew I would be leaving in the near future. As soon as the first deposition was taken I would have to tender my resignation and hope for the best.

Tara continued preparing for the law-suit. It wasn’t until the last week of January that she filed the suit. She asked for 4.5 million dollars. I was expecting all hell to break out at work, but I never even heard about the suit for over a week. They just played it like a routine case. ‘Nothing important here. Go about your business.’

Things got a bit more interesting in mid-February when Tara subpoenaed her first round of documents and e-mails. True to her word, she didn’t ask for a single thing from me. Mr. Pearson called us into his office one afternoon and announced that he wanted all subpoenaed records sent to him first. He also told the staff it was time for our yearly record cleansing. We were told to shred all unnecessary documents, and that included documents pertaining to office relations. That was code for ‘Get rid of any documents concerning Jason.’ The purge began. However, none of my files were purged. I just made sure that everything had a back up copy, either electronic or paper.

In late February we finally got some good news. Jasmine was called back for a second interview. A small law firm on the north side was looking for a paralegal. They didn’t want to pay much, so an inexperienced person was all they could get. I put Jasmine in one of my best suits, helped her with her hair and makeup and sent her to the interview. She called me at work and announced that they had offered her the job. Jasmine was going to be gainfully employed. She was very excited and wanted to go out to celebrate. I needed something to get me out of my mid-week doldrums so I agreed.

Jasmine remained in her interview suit and still looked very nice when I arrived home. She had freshened her makeup and added a bit more for the evening lights and put on a pair of three-inch heels. We went to a mid-scale restaurant,as we were still counting our nickels. Jasmine was very excited. "This is great!" she said. "I can help pay my way now and I won’t be bored to tears looking for things to do at home. And best of all, I get to dress and go out as a girl all the time now. I can wear pretty clothes and makeup and curl my hair and act femmy and pretty and this is full time now, and I can chat with the girls and flirt with the guys and I can’t believe this is going to happen …"

"Slow down," I laughed. "You’re going to rupture something." I reached across the table and took her hand, "This is wonderful for you Jasmine. You’ve come a long, long way in just a short time. What was it, about six months ago when we first met and less than that when Jasmine started peaking through in public?"

"I can’t believe it was only six months ago. It seems like an eternity. This is just so fantastic. No way in the world could I have envisioned me being able to live and work full time as a girl. And to have such a beautiful and loving mate as you, Karen. I owe you so much … my entire life. Thank you so very, very much."

‘Oh, oh,’ I thought to myself. Did she say mate? I didn’t want to be her mate. I liked Jasmine, I even loved her in a way, but I hadn’t given up all hope of some day snagging me a real man. Tonight wasn’t the night to break her heart, so I played along to a degree. "Don’t go all mushy on me, Jasmine. We’re only roommates. Ok?"

There was just the slightest bit of disappointment in her eyes. "Oh yea. Of course."

I had had my say, now I wanted to get her back in her celebrating mood. "Do you have enough clothes to become a professional female paralegal? Are we going to have to go shopping this weekend?"

"A girl can always use more clothes," she said enthusiastically. "And you know I love to go shopping for clothes and things."

"Yes I know. Let’s do it then."

"What about money? We’re still low on money."

"You have your savings. I think it is time for you to spend some of it. It is an investment after all. You’re going to need nice business clothes. Your closet is mostly party dresses, and if both of us wear my business clothes, we’ll wear them out fast. Yes, we should spend some of your savings."

"All right! A new job and a shopping spree. There is only one more thing that could make this day perfect." She placed her elbow on the table, flipped her wrist down and rested her chin on the back of her wrist. She looked at me and fluttered her eyelashes and pouted her lips. Her message was perfectly clear.

I repeated her exact motions, and the two of us fluttered our eyes at each other for a few moments. Then I leaned across the table and gave her a kiss. "I think I know what you have in mind. Do we need to stop and buy any whips or handcuffs on the way home?"

"That’s an excellent idea. Do you know where to go?"

I laughed and responded, "I’m sorry but I don’t. Maybe that’s something we can add to our list for the weekend shopping spree." We both giggled. Through the rest of dinner I could feel my panty liner getting wetter and wetter.

Towards the end of dinner, the conversation turned to her lawsuit. She asked me what I thought her odds of winning were. "I think they’re pretty good," I told her. "But don’t expect a million dollars. That rarely happens."

"I’d take a million dollars," she said in a dreamy voice.

"What would you do with a million dollars? You don’t have enough closet space for that many clothes," I teased her.

"I’d just have to buy us a bigger house. Do you think a million dollars would buy a house as big a Charles’?"

"I suppose so. Is that what you want? A big house?"

"I could live with that."

"Why not something just for Jasmine?"

She smiled. "Actually, that is what I was thinking about. What would you think if I got a boob job? Would I be a freak if I had breast implants?"

"Not at all. I think you’d look great. And it would eliminate the hassle of gluing on your breast forms all of the time."

"That is getting to be a pain. So really, what do you think if I were to do that?"

"Go for it," I said. "I can’t encourage you enough. It’s not often that anyone gets a break like receiving a nice pot of money. Go ahead and spend it on Jasmine."

"And one other thing. Do you think I would be vain if I got liposuction? I was thinking that if I could have my waist lippoed, I wouldn’t have to wear my corset all of the time. It would be nice to leave it off some times. It would be so much more free feeling."

"That’s a great idea Jasmine. I like your thinking. You’re a beautiful girl, and feminizing your body would make your life so much easier. Plus, you would be so much cuter, if that’s possible, that is. Do it Jasmine. It’s your money, you paid for it. Enjoy it. Lord knows you went through hell to get it."

"Karen, you are so supportive, no wonder I love you." She kept saying words that scared me–like love. "I guess Jason went through a little hell, but Jasmine is so happy that he did it, and that you made him do it. As mad as I was at you at times, I’m really, really happy that you forced me to live up to my potential. Guess what, I’ve been feeling so much better lately that I’m thinking of cutting my medication level in half."

"Great."

"And if that works, then I’m going to try and quit totally."

"That would be wonderful if you could."

"Can we leave now? I want to go home and make wild and passionate love to you."

Jasmine couldn’t wait for us to get home. She wrapped her arm around me as we walked to the car, and she gave me a long wet kiss before we entered the car. She was all over me as we waited for the elevator from the parking deck up to our room, and in the elevator she slide her hand under my skirt and rubbed my pussy. "A little excited are we?" she asked. I knew my panty liner was so wet that it had leaked a bit onto my panties. I grinned and kissed her again.

When we reached the apartment door, she took my purse and key. "I’ll get the door, why don’t you go slip into something more sexy." It looked like Jasmine wanted to take the dominant role, and I liked that idea. I went to my bedroom and stripped out of my clothes, I didn’t even hang them up. I threw them on the bed, slipped a short negligee over my head and went to the bathroom. I smeared some cold cream over my face, brushed my teeth and went looking for Jasmine.

I found her in her bedroom, already changed into a baby doll outfit. "Oh no you don’t," she said as she grabbed my negligee and pulled it over my head. "You’re too hot to be wearing anything tonight. Let me go wash off my makeup and I’ll be right back."

Jasmine quickly returned and embraced me as she slid her tongue into my mouth. "Mmmmmm," she moaned. Her hands wandered down to my cheeks and she sunk her nails into my flesh. She pulled my crotch tightly against hers, and I could feel her erection pressing through her baby doll. She squirmed around to move her penis against me and she continued to hold me tight. "You are the sexiest girl in the whole wide world," she said.

She led me to the bed and had me lie on my back and spread my legs. She crawled between my legs and started kissing the inside of my thighs. She gave me goose bumps up and down each leg. My pussy was soaking wet and she soon began licking up and down my entire pussy. At the top she would flick my clitoris with her tongue and give me an extra tingle of pleasure. Next she would slide her tongue down to the bottom and push it into me as far as she could reach. Then see would repeat the cycle. Her work was beginning to pay off as I was quickly approaching orgasm. I was so horny to start with, that just a few minutes of Jasmine’s tongue and I was squirting juices while my hips heaved as high as they could reach. Jasmine rode me like a bronco and continued licking and stimulating my pussy. I finally had to yell, "Stop," as the intensity of the pleasure became too much to endure.

That didn’t stop Jasmine. She moved up to breasts and began licking and sucking and caressing and pinching my nipples. She started slowly and gently and kept my nipples hard. After I had calmed down from my first orgasm, she slid her hand down to my pussy and inserted two or three fingers into my pussy. I had no idea how many fingers she used, as I was too preoccupied with my breasts and nipples. After filling my pussy and sliding in and out for a few minutes, one of her fingers reached up to my clit and started rubbing and pressing against it. It felt wonderful. My hips started keeping rhythm with her finger and I soon lost all control as another orgasm rushed over my body and took all control away from me. I was literally panting when I fell back to bed.

"Wait a minute," I panted. Jasmine rolled to the side and laid her head on my shoulder. One hand slid under my back and the other cupped my pussy and remained motionless. After a few seconds, her leg slid over my leg. I could feel her pushing her penis against my hip. I reached down and took her penis in my hand. I grabbed it tightly and squeezed as hard as I could. Jasmine moaned and pushed against me. I didn’t stroke her, I just kept squeezing and relaxing her penis. She continued to moan with pleasure.

After catching my breath I rolled over to face her, and she rolled onto her back. I squeezed her penis again, and then bent it down towards her legs. I bent it almost as far as the rigid member could go. I bent it to one side and then the other, pushing it to its limit. Jasmine closed her eyes and softly moaned as I continued to push and bend and squeeze her penis.

Then I slid down to her crotch and took her penis in my mouth. I flicked the shaft of her penis with my tongue as I began sliding my lips up and down. It took only a few seconds and she came in my mouth. I wanted to gag, but I held my composure and took the majority of her cum. I took her with my hand and continued to stroke her wet penis as I slid up to her mouth. I kissed her and squirted all of her cum into her mouth. I surprised her, but she took most of it and swallowed it.

We licked each other’s lips and cleaned up the small amount of cum that we had spilled. "That was different," she said.

"Maybe someday you’ll have to know what it tastes like," I cooed. "You just never know, lovely girl."

"I can’t say that that was very appetizing. I certainly don’t plan on giving head to another man, so I’m hoping I won’t have to recognize that taste again."

"Are you saying that you don’t like your own taste?"

"Not really," she said apologetically.

"But you wouldn’t mind if I did that for you again; gave you head, would you?"

"I did enjoy the feeling, but I could pass on the sharing."

"You have some selfish notions girl. If you ever want me to do that again, we will have to share. I don’t want to keep all of the fun to myself." I grinned and added, "I like to share with my girlfriends." I crawled up and straddled her face, "Let me give you something much more tasty," and I lowered myself so that Jasmine could begin licking my pussy again.

It turned out to be an awkward position for me, and we didn’t last long that way. I dismounted her and lay on my back with my legs spread, inviting her to return to her previous position between my legs. Jasmine understood the invitation and we started all over again. She again brought me to a couple of lingering and stimulating orgasms and I was again totally out of breath.

After I recovered, I unrolled a condom and slipped it over Jasmine’s penis. I rose up on my hands and knees and offered my pussy to her doggy style. "We are trying new things tonight, aren’t we?" she said as she mounted me from behind. She began thrusting into my pussy, and I began pushing back. I could hear the rhythmic slapping of her scrotum against her legs as she pumped her penis in and out of me. I wondered if the slapping was hurting her, but she continued thrusting herself into my pussy, so I stopped worrying and enjoyed the new position.

She was slow in climaxing because it was her second time. She eventually speeded up her tempo and spilled her seed into the condom. I asked her to hold herself in me for just a few minutes as I allowed my pulse and breathing to slow down. Even though she was smaller than average, I enjoyed the feeling of her being inside me. I enjoyed the warmth and fullness.

We eventually collapsed side-by-side in her bed. I was naked and her baby doll was pushed up to her boobs. We held hands and lay there for several minutes as we let the sweat on our bodies cool us down. It took several minutes before I started to get a little too cool. I put on my negligee and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put a panty liner in my panties. I returned to bed to find Jasmine removing her condom and wiping herself off. "Let me do that," I said. I took a couple of Kleenex and wrapped them around the head of her penis as I milked the last bit of semen out of her flaccid penis. I gave her penis a kiss and said, "Thanks for the fun, sweetie. Goodnight."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

In mid March, Tara sent in her second subpoena. This time she asked for some specific files from Karen Marlowe. I sent the files to Mr. Pearson who then sent them to his review committee. They looked through them and found the pictures of Jasmine. No one had any idea who she was, so they left the pictures in the file. In my e-mail file they found the note from John Taylor reprimanding me for addressing the office concerning harassment. They deleted that file. They also found a couple other files from Jason that I had been copied on. They deleted those also.

Tara called me that night and reminded me that I owed her a favor. She wanted me to go to dinner with her that Saturday night. "Dress sexy," she said just before she hung up. I told Jasmine that I would be busy Saturday night.

"Can I ask what you’re doing?"

"A guy asked me out."

"You’re going on a date?"

"It’s a one time thing. I owe him a favor. I can’t get out of it."

"What time will you be home?"

"I don’t know. Maybe Sunday morning," I said. Jasmine’s face drooped. It was painfully obvious that she was heart broken. "I’m sorry Jasmine, but I don’t have much choice on this. You’ve went on dates before," I said referring to her dates with Charles Pearson.

"I didn’t sleep with him," she said crisply.

"Who said I’m sleeping with anyone?"

"You did. You said you might spend the night. Let’s not play grammar games." She was indeed mad.

I had no way to argue with her. And I was doing it because of her. In a way I was. I was also doing it because of me. I needed Jasmine to go out with Pearson to help cover my exit from the company. So, I had asked Tara to help for both of our sakes. And now I had to repay the favor. "Jasmine, I’m sorry but I have to do this. I have never misled you concerning our relationship. I have never said I was in a monogamous relationship with you. When you started playing wife, I told you right out that you weren’t my wife and I wasn’t your husband. Come on, give me a break." I walked out of the room and into my bedroom. I closed the door behind me. I heard her bedroom door slam shut.

The rest of the week it was very cool in the house. Jasmine barely spoke to me, and it was usually in single sentences. She had a headache so we didn’t go out to dinner on Friday. On Saturday morning she decided to go to the laundromat and wash clothes. She spent most of the day there. She returned late in the day and announced that she would be going out for the evening. We both started getting ready for our evening, but we stayed in our separate rooms. It was an uncomfortable feeling when we bumped into each other going in and out of the bathroom. I had originally wanted to borrow one of her short, sexy dresses, but I decided that I had better not. I ended up wearing my best ‘little black dress’. I used my hot iron to curl my hair so I didn’t have to leave my bedroom to get my hair ready. I also stayed in my bedroom to apply my make-up.

When I went to leave, Jasmine remained in her room. "Have a nice time," she yelled through her bedroom door. I left with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to yell at her and remind her that we were not a couple. I had never told her we were a couple. I still wanted a real man with a real cock. But somehow, I still felt guilty. We had been living together for several months now. We had divided household duties and shared everything. We even shared expenses, other than rent and utilities. She had started buying some of the groceries, and she even picked up a restaurant tab once in a blue moon.

But somehow it rang hollow. And on top of everything else, I was going out on a date with another person just like her. I was going on a date with a crossdressing male and I was intending to have sex with him. Not exactly a ‘real man with a real cock’. And to make matters worse, it was her best friend. In fact, her only friend. I didn’t exactly feel proud of myself.

I met Tara at her house. She was dressed in a short red dress with a plunging neckline. I don’t know how she did it, but she had cleavage. Her nails were manicured and her hair was in an updo with a few tendrils falling along her face and neck. Her makeup was impeccable. She looked very attractive and very passable. It was possibly the best I had ever seen her look. I decided that I couldn’t bring Jasmine and my baggage along for the evening. I tried to be happy and perky.

"You look gorgeous tonight, Tara. My gosh, how did you get such cleavage? You’ve got more than me!"

She laughed and replied, "Tape. I’ll show you later. You look beautiful as always. I love your dress. Where did you get it?"

"I honestly don’t remember. I’ve had it for a long time."

"It still looks beautiful, but that’s probably because you can make anything look beautiful. So are you hungry?"

"Just a little," I said. My fight with Jasmine had taken away much of my appetite. "Where do you want to go?" I asked.

"I’m taking you out, Karen. I’ll drive. We’re going someplace new. I’ve never been there before and I don’t know for sure how TV friendly they will be. But it is one of the best restaurants around. I’ve heard great things about it."

"Tara, you won’t have to worry about being TV friendly. With your cleavage and that beautiful dress and makeup, no one will ever guess. You are going to be stared at though."

A big grin broke out on her face and she turned to get her purse. We walked to the door and she handed me her purse while she put on her coat. "Let’s go gorgeous." We locked arms as we walked to the car.

It was a 30 minute drive to the restaurant and we chatted about the weather and politics and even sports. She never once brought up work. That was going to be our dinner conversation. I tried to hold up my end of the conversation, but I’m sure it was lagging some.

We reached the restaurant and were seated. Tara continued the small talk until our drinks came. We both ordered a tequila drink. "Prost," Tara said as we toasted each other. "To a beautiful night," and we each took another sip.

"Ok now, we have to a have a heart-to-heart," Tara announced. "What the hell did you do?"

"I beg your pardon, young lady?" I asked innocently.

"I received the results of the latest subpoena. There isn’t much there, sister."

"Oh, I’m sorry. I have something for you." I set my purse on the table and retrieved my memory stick. I handed it over to Tara and smiled. "There might be some things on here that they forgot to send along."

"Like what?"

"Like I don’t know what they left off, yet."

"You mean they censored your files and deleted a few items?" I shook my head yes. "That’s illegal. They could be held in contempt of court." I just smiled. Tara smiled. "We can’t exactly compare files here. What might they have accidentally forgot to pass along?"

"Did you get some pictures of a girl?"

"That I did. Who is she?"

"The early Jasmine. Maybe we should start from the very beginning." I explained how I found out about Jasmine. Then I explained how I forced her to begin wearing panties and camisoles at work. I explained the reason for the pictures.

Tara was thunderstruck. "Jasmine never told me any of this."

"Well she probably wasn’t too proud of it. In fact she was extremely embarrassed."

"Why did she do it? Why did you do it?"

"Tara, that’s something I’ve thought long and hard about, and I still don’t have a good answer. The easy question is why did Jasmine do it. And the answer is because she had no self-esteem. She had been psychologically abused by her parents. With no self-esteem and no self-confidence it was easy for me to bully her into doing almost anything I wanted. That’s the easy answer. The really tough answer is why did I do it." I took a sip of my drink and stalled for time.

"So?"

"I’m stalling, can’t you tell?" She shook her head yes. "I’m not totally sure. I’m not a good shrink. Part of the reason was I was mad at men. I had been dating a man from work, and after three or four dates, I agreed to go to bed with him. Damn, he was well endowed."

"Better than me?" she grinned.

"Oh yea. Much better. But he was a Class "A"asshole. The next morning he left to go golfing."

"Shit!" she exclaimed.

"Oh yea. And on Monday he told everyone in the company."

"The asshole."

"I got crap from all the girls. I was so embarrassed I couldn’t stick my nose out of my office for a couple of days. So I was pissed at men in general. So just maybe I was trying to get even with men."

"And?"

"And I’m not sure. I was lonely, I had no real friends at the company, and I was being ignored by management. It soon became obvious that I was nothing more than the token girl, and she could be ignored. The quota was filled, end of conversation. So I had a chip on my shoulder. Maybe it was a way to get back at the company, maybe get even with the company males and the old-boy network, maybe a way to humiliate someone else. Lord knows I felt humiliated. Tara, I can’t really tell you why I did it. I just did it. And you know the really sick part?" Tara didn’t say a word. "I liked it. I enjoyed it. It was a rush. I humiliated him and I controlled him. I was having fun." I thought for a moment and then added, "I thought I was having fun. Does that explain why I did it?"

"Actually, I think it does. Will you say that on the witness stand?"

I gulped the rest of my drink. "That’s part of the reason I’m here Tara. Yes, I’ll tell them the same story under oath."

"Jesus Christ," she whispered. "What else."

"Is there a list of weekly reports or complaints from Jason?"

"I don’t remember seeing anything like that."

"How about a weekly performance review or complaint list concerning Jason."

"Yea, I saw that. It looks pretty bad."

"They’re all lies. You’ll have no problem proving it."

"How?"

"The memory stick has Jason’s weekly report. And by the way, he sent it to Lisa, the office manager who then wrote her version of events. Check times on the earliest version of each. He also copied HR, the director named Kleber, and sent me a blind copy. Since I was the first contact for HR in the law department, I also got Lisa’s reports. I then compared the two, wrote a critique pointing out discrepancies and I added notes on how to substantiate the true version. I can probably prove over 50% of Lisa’s comments are lies. You have all the details there," and I nodded towards the memory stick in front of her.

"No fuck?" she said.

"No fuck, lady. I can also testify that Jason was being harassed, insulted and blacklisted from the day he started the company."

"How?"

"I’ll testify that my very first day, the three worst culprits, including his direct manager, told me that they thought he was gay. They insulted him behind his back and called him derogatory nicknames. I’m sure we can pull other secretaries and paralegals into the deposition and force them into admitting the same thing."

"Wow."

"Tara, order me another drink, would you please, honey?" Tara stood and waved the waiter over. She wasn’t playing the part of a demure and beautiful lady. She was in lawyer mode and she demanded action.

"Continue," she said.

"I need more booze. Wait ’til he brings my drink." We sat quietly for a minute or so. He still hadn’t brought the drink but I began anyway. "Ya’ know Tara, I can’t exactly say I’m proud of any of this. The only thing I am proud of is no matter how pissed off Jasmine was, I did force her to do the right thing. It wasn’t my intention. My original intention was probably humiliation and pain, but I guess at least she came out in better shape." The meaning was that I didn’t come out in better shape. Tara was smart enough to keep her mouth shut. My drink finally arrived. I gulped down half of it.

"Was I saying something?"

"You were saying that the rest of the office was already calling him gay when you started there."

"You know, I was enjoying the situation most of the time. I kind of egged the girls on when Jason started dressing more obviously in women’s clothes. I made him go to lunch with us so the girls could embarrass and humiliate him. I made him wear panties, then a camisole, then stockings. I made him get hair extensions so his hair was long. Sometimes I let him wear it as a pony tail. Guys wear their hair that way. That’s ok. But other times I braided it. I braided it in a French braid. It was so obviously feminine that everybody in the company wanted to come to the law department and see the freak. Then I made him pierce his ears. Not once, but twice. Guys get their ears pierced, but not twice. At first I started him with studs. But eventually I made him wear hoops." I laughed and took another gulp.

Tara was quiet and just listened.

"In the end I even made him carry a purse to work. We arrived early and left late, so no one ever saw it. But it was the psychological effect on him. I was forcing him to act like a woman. I knew all of this was humiliating and embarrassing, but deep down inside me, I was sure that it was what he really wanted. And it was. He really did want to be forced into acting out his fantasies. His dreams actually. But that is a bunch of rationalization. I still can’t fully convince myself that it was ok." I took another gulp and finished that drink. "I need another, please."

Tara got the waiter’s attention and pointed to my empty glass. "So what happened then?"

"So his life became a living hell. The girls treated him like shit. There are three girls I want you to really go after; Lisa his boss, Terri and especially Jasmine. Call them up early and force them to tell their lies. Later you can nail their asses for perjury. They really did make life horrible for Jason. Did you know she’s on anti-depressants?"

"No."

"Paxil. A heavy dose. She couldn’t function without it. She was constantly crying." I paused and let the waiter set down my third drink. "She was also responsible for PC repairs and updates around the department. She rushed through that work first thing in the morning before any one else was in the office. Then she retreated to her cubicle and refused to leave for the rest of the day. She called it her foxhole."

"Shit." Tara had a limited vocabulary at times.

I shook myself out of my pity party. I was feeling sorry for both Jasmine and me. "Listen Tara, you’ve got just about everything you need to nail their asses. In addition, if you play your cards right you can nail half of them for perjury and the other half for withholding subpoenaed evidence. Win for Jasmine. Ok?"

"Ok. If everything you say is in there, no problem."

"Let’s order."

We ordered our entrees and another drink. My fourth was on order. "So you planned all of this in advance then?"

"Heavens no. I didn’t plan anything. It just evolved. It happened. I tried to manage it on the fly. I didn’t really know what I was doing."

"Well it worked out pretty well for you."

"Did it? I’m not so sure."

"What do you mean, Karen. I think we have an excellent case."

"It’s not the case, it’s me. I’m totally messed up now. Can I have another tequila?" Tara looked at me like I had just said something outrageous. "Did I spit on myself?" I asked.

"It’s coming. You really should slow down, Karen. You’re drinking pretty fast on an empty stomach."

"I know. I’m pretty stupid at times."

"Come on Karen, ease up on yourself. You’ve made Jasmine very happy."

"That’s nice. But Karen is getting screwed up. I’m not sure what is happening to me. I’m not thinking straight any more."

"Karen, what in the hell are you talking about?"

"Tara, I don’t know what I want any more. I don’t know where I’m going. I’m ashamed of everything I’ve done, but at the same time I think I did some good things. I’m totally confused."

"You’re not really happy about being here with me. Are you?"

"Why would you say that?"

"My office does a lot of divorces. I get all the wives and the other partners handle the husbands. They think I’m good with the girls. They think I have a special rapport. I wonder why they would think that?"

I grinned. The waiter brought me my drink. "Do your partners know about Tara?"

"No. The only two people in the world who know are you and Jasmine. But anyway, I’m getting fairly good at understanding women. I have an ability to listen and to hear some of the things that they aren’t saying. You aren’t saying a lot Karen. Do you want to?"

"Yes, I should."

"Let’s start with why you don’t want to be here with me. You don’t like me? You don’t want to sleep with me tonight?"

"You see, that’s the problem. I want to. I really, really want to. Tara, you are absolutely beautiful tonight. Sexy and especially desirable. I want you in the worst way."

"Keep going."

"But I don’t want to be attracted to transvestites. I want to be with real men with real cocks. I’ve never wanted to be with girls, I have no lesbian tendencies at all. But I see you and Jasmine and you are so feminine and so beautiful and I do want you. Because you are transvestites. I find both of you exquisitely desirable. All my life I’ve been solidly heterosexual and I never would have given you a second thought. And actually I didn’t. I knew you for a long time and I was not attracted to you. I liked you. I enjoyed talking with you and I thought you were pretty, but I had no desire to bed you. But now I do. I would love to take you to bed."

"Ok. So what’s the problem?"

"Jasmine. She is really pissed that I’m here with you tonight."

"You told her?"

"Well I had to say something. She expects me to be at her beck and call all the time. She acts like I’m her mate, her spouse."

"Karen, I thought you told me you two weren’t in that type of relationship."

"I’m not. Like I told you, I want a truly heterosexual relationship with a well-hung man. I’m not in love with Jasmine, but she’s in love with me. She thinks were a couple."

"I see. What exactly did you tell her about us?"

Our dinners arrived and I began pushing my food around my plate. "I told her I was going on a date."

"What?"

"I said it was business related, I owed you a favor and I had to go on this date."

"Did you tell her you were going out with me?"

"No. I didn’t name any names."

"You’re leaving something out, aren’t you?"

I pushed my food around a bit more. "She wanted to know when I would be home, and I said maybe Sunday morning."

"You didn’t."

"Yea, but I’m not tied to her. She should know that. It should be ok for me to do what I want to do." I was feeling a little tipsy and my logic was starting to tip also.

"Well that explains a few things. So what do you want to do now?"

I was confused. "I’d like to have sex with you, Tara. I really do. But I don’t want Jasmine to be mad. She’s mad you know? She wouldn’t talk to me for three days. She had a headache and refused to go out to dinner last night. Tonight she went out by herself."

"Where?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t ask and she didn’t say."

"Karen, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to stop pushing your food around your plate, and your going to eat some of it, ok? You’re drunk and you need some food in your belly. Next, I’m going to call Jasmine and we’re going to find out where she is. Then we’re going to go get her. Eat," she ordered.

Tara pulled her cell phone from her purse and hit Jasmine’s speed dial. She sat and watched me eat for a few minutes while the phone rang. "Jasmine, hi it’s Tara. Good. What are you doing? Where are you? Stay there, I’ll join you. I’m half way across town so give me at least an hour, ok? Great. She ya soon."

"Karen, are you eating?"

"Yea," I said with a full mouth. "Waiter!" she yelled. "Something just came up and we have to leave now. Bring a couple of doggy bags and the bill, please."

The waiter wrapped up our meals and Tara handed him a hundred dollar bill. I guess she didn’t have a credit card in Tara’s name. It only took about ten minutes and we were in the car heading towards Susan’s. It was a lesbian nightclub a couple blocks from Glitter. "You’re too drunk to drive Karen, so we’ll go straight to Susan’s and get Jasmine. Then were going to my house and sober you up. Unless Jasmine wants to drive you home, you can spend the night at my house.

"So how you feeling?" Tara asked me.

"Same as before. Confused … guilty … mixed-up … a little angry … horny. I still owe you, Tara."

"I’m not sure if you do. Some how, I think you’re intentions were always well meant. Your methods might leave something to be desired, but I think you were looking out for Jasmine. And seeing what kind of people you were dealing with, I’m kind of glad I was able to meet Pearson as Tara. It adds a bit of irony to everything."

"You give me too much credit. I wanted you to be there that night not because of Jasmine but because of me."

"What do you mean?"

"I needed Jasmine to chase Pearson away without making him mad. I wanted Jasmine to date him in the first place because I wanted pictures for when I had to face him."

"What do you mean, Karen? Did you plan all of that?"

"No, I’m not that smart. I just took advantage of a couple of things. Like the invitation to his party. The only reason I went and took Jasmine was because I wanted to fuck Jasmine on Pearson’s own bed. Then I left the condom wrapper laying on his bed."

"WHAT?

"Oh yea. Didn’t I explain all of this to you?"

"No, you did not. Tell me what happened."

"Well that’s how Jasmine got the date with Pearson in the first place. I took Jasmine to his party. I said she had a wardrobe malfunction and we needed a private room for a few minutes. He let us use his bedroom and I fucked Jasmine on his bed. Then I left the condom wrapper on the bed. That’s how Jasmine got the date with Pearson. He thought she looked hot and when we went to leave he asked her for a date."

"So they went on a date?"

"Yea."

"And then they had a second date?" Tara was confused.

"Yep. Only by that time I realized that we had to put a stop to it. We had enough to embarrass him, and if we dragged it out further, it would probably have really pissed him off when he found out later."

"And how does this affect you. Why did you say that my favor was more for you than for Jasmine?"

"Because as you’ll see, we already had enough evidence to probably win Jasmine’s case. But the day after I give my deposition, I’m going to get fired. Maybe not the day after, but it won’t take long. Ya’ know what I mean."

"I think I’m starting to. I forgot about you and what’s going to happen after you testify. Yes, they’re going to be royally pissed at you. They’ll fire your ass in a heartbeat."

"If I’m lucky."

"What do you mean by that?"

"They might also bring charges up against me for unethical behavior. I could lose my license."

"They wouldn’t, would they?"

"They might. Especially if Pearson thinks we screwed him and embarrassed him on purpose. That’s why I needed the favor. I need him in a vulnerable position, but not a pissed-off position so I can bargain with him."

"What are you going to bargain for?"

"I’ll offer my immediate resignation with no hassle if he’ll promise not to charge me in front of the board and try to get my license revoked."

"And is that where the first date and the pictures come in to play?"

"Yea. I’m hoping he remembers that I have them, and even if I don’t do anything overt, I can embarrass him with his buddies. Nobody wants to have his friends think he was played for a schmuck."

"Now it’s all starting to fall into place. You’re a hell of a lot more clever than you take credit Karen. It all makes sense now. What a plan! I am really impressed."

"Tara, I’m not kidding when I say there was no plan. Some things kind of happened, and I tried to play them the best I could. But very, very little of this was planned. It happened. If I was that smart Jasmine wouldn’t be mad at me, and I’d have some manly stud for a boyfriend."

Tara laughed quietly and muttered something about O. Henry.

We finally made it to Susan’s. We walked in and found Jasmine sitting at the bar. Jasmine saw me and said, "What are you doing here?"

Tara answered, "Karen was my date tonight."

Jasmine was totally surprised. "Your date? She said she was going out with a guy."

Tara just looked at Jasmine and said nothing.

"Ok, but she said it was business and she owed you a favor. Were you two going to have sex?" Jasmine’s eyes burned into Tara. I turned away from the two of them and waved the bartender over. I listened to their conversation as I ordered a tequila sunrise.

"Jasmine it was business, and yes she owes me a favor. But no, I’m not going to collect. Today I received the latest batch of documents that I subpoenaed from your old company. Apparently, they left out a lot of incriminating documents and Karen brought them to me. They’re really important documents. Critical and possibly the ultimate documents we will need to win your case. She explained all about them and how to use them to win your case.

"The favor she owed me was something she did for you. When you needed my help to chase away Charles Pearson I refused. Remember?"

"Yes," she said suspiciously. My drink arrived and I started sipping.

"Karen called me and said she would do anything I asked if I would help you. She was being totally unselfish and I tried to take advantage of her. I’m ashamed of myself now. You and Karen are the only friends that I, Tara, have. Karen reminded me how important that is. I’m sorry for even taking Karen away from you for one night. I don’t want to lose your friendship Jasmine."

Jasmine was deciding what to say next. I spun around on my barstool and Tara saw my drink. She made a grab for it and I blocked her. "Karen, you don’t need any more to drink. You’re drunk already."

"I’ll be the judge of that," I said as I took another sip.

Jasmine looked at me with a hard look in her eyes. "You hurt me," she said. "I’m in love with you and you know it. But you were perfectly willing to walk out and have sex with someone else. You don’t even care about me."

Tara jumped back into the fray with a vengeance. "Jasmine, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You have no idea what Karen has done for you, and what she has given up for you. No one in this world has done more for you than Karen."

"Like what?" She threw the question at Tara like a grenade.

"Let’s start with her job. She’s going to be fired because of you."

Jasmine stopped dead in her tracks. She glared first at Tara and then at me. "What is she talking about?" Jasmine asked me.

Again, Tara acted as my attorney and answered for me. "She’s going to go on the stand, and under oath she’s going to back up everything that has happened to you. She’s given me irrefutable proof that you’re telling the truth and they are lying. It’s going to blow their case and open some of their people up to possible perjury. Pearson himself will be open to charges of withholding subpoenaed documents. As soon as she does that, she will be fired. And if they’re really pissed and they think they can get away with it, they’ll try to get her disbarred. And even if they don’t do that, she will be black listed in Chicago and maybe the entire state of Illinois. How’s that for starters?"

Obviously Jasmine didn’t know what to say. She turned to me and asked, "Is all of that true?"

I shrugged my shoulders and took another sip.

"Come on Jasmine, if you want to be mad at someone be mad at me. If you want, you can fire me. I’ll turn the case over to someone else if you want."

"Nope," I said. "Tara you will try the case. No one else is necessary." I finished my drink and set the glass on the bar. I held up one finger for the bartender.

"No you don’t," yelled Tara. She waved at the bartender and handed him a ten dollar bill. "You’ve had enough." Tara turned to Jasmine and said, "Karen’s had enough to drink. She can’t drive tonight. I’ll take both of you back to my house. You can either drive Karen home in your car, or you can both stay over at my place. Or if you’re still mad, you can go home and Karen can sleep in my spare bedroom … by herself." Tara turned to me and pulled me to my feet, "Come on girl, let’s go."

She may have thought I was drunk, and maybe I was a little, but I knew perfectly well what the situation was. And I had no trouble walking. The three of us walked out to the car and they helped me into the back seat. They sat in the front seat and ignored each other for the entire trip back to Tara’s.

It was time for me to do something. As we stepped out of the car I slipped and fell on my butt. "Ouch goddamn it," I swore. I thought the swearing would be a nice addition. Tara and Jasmine both took one arm and pulled me to my feet. "Can we spend the night?" Jasmine asked.

"Absolutely," Tara answered. I gave Tara a wink.

They walked me into the house and Jasmine took me into the bathroom and helped hold me up as I washed my face. Then she took me into the spare bedroom and stripped my clothes off. She slipped one of Tara’s negligees over me and put me to bed. I fell unconscious in a matter of minutes.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I’m not sure what happened that night after I went to bed, but Tara and Jasmine must have settled their differences. Everyone became good friends again. I think we all learned something that night, but I’m not sure about me. I was still willing to go to bed with Tara. Maybe along with my desire for a ‘real man with a real cock’, I wanted more variety. I have no idea what my problem was, but that was me.

Tara was finally able to nail down the company to set a deposition date. They managed to delay it until late May, and they came up with a handful of continuances and had it delayed into late June. But eventually, even the American law system caught up with Mr. Charles Pearson and his connections. The deposition was set. Both Jasmine and Karen prepared for the big day.

I was prepped by the finest lawyers our company could buy. I went through four different mock trials. If they say this, you say this. If they do this, you counter with this. Never answer more than they’ve asked. If they ask a yes or no question, you never say more than yes or no. Make them push for more details. Remember, their questions have to be specific. If they ask for a general question, answer in generic terms. Tell them nothing specific. Don’t answer questions looking for your opinion. This is a court of law and facts, not opinions. Look for the most general way possible to answer any question. If they can’t ask a very specific question, you can’t answer. Look at your counsel if you have any questions. He’ll help. If you have a problem answering the question, your counsel can intercede and make them rephrase the question. Do that until you get a formatted question that you’re comfortable with."

It was an hilarious situation. I was already being prepped, but it was by the other side. In terms of international spies and James Bond, I was the ultimate mole. Not that I was especially proud of that, but it was kind of fun. As Tara would say, "Shit - life should be fun - go for it girl!" I went for it.

So did Jasmine. By late May, her hair had grown almost another two-inches, and her perm was wimping out. It was time for the girl to get ready for her big day. There was only one person to see; Gina. Jasmine made the appointment to see Gina. Jasmine told Gina just exactly how important the occasion was going to be. Fortunately Jasmine had spoken to the genius. Gina knew exactly what to do. She turned Jasmine into a goddess.

About three weeks before the deposition, Jasmine went to Gina’s salon. Gina started by coloring Jasmine’s hair. Jasmine went from a light brunette to a gorgeous, no a stunning, red head. Gina didn’t make her an outlandish or a super bright redhead, just a sexy and not-too-subtle redhead. Jasmine’s hair was about two inches longer than in December when Gina had last performed her magic. Gina left her hair straight and long. Jasmine’s previous style fit exactly into what Gina wanted to accomplish. Jasmine came home with a straight style that hung to the top of her shoulders. All of her hair was essentially the same length, as it looked like the hair from her crown ran straight to the bottom of her cut. It was perfectly straight, she had her bangs cut razor straight, one millimeter above her eyebrows and the color–oh my the color! Jasmine looked like a Hollywood starlet.

When she walked in the door, I had to have some fun, "Who are you?" She gave me a smile. "Listen, I’m expecting my girlfriend home any minute now. We better go screw right now before she gets home."

Jasmine giggled and said, "I know, she’s probably not more than an hour behind me. Quick strip down to your panties and let’s jump in bed."

It just so happened that I was wearing a long, comfortable pleated skirt. I reached under my skirt and pulled my panties off and showed them to Jasmine. "Come on, hottie, let’s do it."

Jasmine laughed and laughed. It was obvious that she was happy with Gina’s performance, and I think she liked my review. "What do you think?" as she spun around.

I laughed and sat down. "Oh my. Oh yea, not only is Gina an artist, but her canvas is 24-karat gold. You are, and I will not lie or exaggerate, absolutely fantastic. Beautiful. Sexy." I had to pause to find the right words, "No you’re better than that. Jasmine, I’m not sure what to say, but I’m very serious when I say that your hair, your color and your style are striking. They’re what you would see on a gorgeous Hollywood star who had spent all day getting ready, and was now trying to impress the entire world. No more than that, it’s what the studio with five hundred dollar an hour stylists with unlimited budgets would do to make a statement in front of the Oscars. Wow!"

"That’s it?" she asked. "I tried hard, and that’s it?" She was grinning from ear to ear.

"I’m sorry Jasmine, but for once I’m forced to tell the truth."

Till this day, when I think back I truly was amazed. Her hair looked like it came out of a shampoo ad. It flowed, it shined, and it radiated. It was perfectly straight, it was red and it was sexy. Jasmine had no idea how good she really looked. For an observer, it was beyond TV and movies.

The day of the deposition finally arrived. Jasmine and I had discussed our clothes for weeks in advance. We both were going to have to make a solid statement. We wanted to look credible, but feminine and vulnerable at the same time. We wanted everyone to say, ‘Oh shit, everything they said was true, and I want to convict those assholes that did that to them.’

We decided that I would go in as a solid business and intellectual woman. Very professional, very credible and strong, but also a woman. I went with a new business suit. I wore a low-cut blouse, no cleavage, but lower than normal business blouses. It was ivory colored and fit well with my dark blue, pinstripe suit. My skirt ended a bit higher than normal, right at my knee, so when I was seated it pulled about an inch or two above my knee. Black stockings and two-inch heels completed the clothing. I wore my hair in a bun with very long needles to give me the ‘librarian’ look. The idea was to duplicate the pornographic image of the sexy, but repressed librarian.

(I guess it worked alright, because Jasmine insisted that I stay ‘dressed in role’ when she attacked me that night.)

We decided to take almost the same approach with Jasmine. We wanted there to be no doubt in that court room that Jasmine was all woman. We put Jasmine in a business dress, but we emphasized the younger business woman approach. We knew that the color of her dress was going to be extremely important. Red or white would be overbearing. We went with a subdued periwinkle blue. The dress had a rounded neckline and a lace trim that ended well above her cleavage. The dress itself extended to her mid-calf and had a tight, form-fitting shape. The waist was ruched, and with her corset pulled ‘Betty Boop’ tight, she had a very womanly figure. She had long sleeves that ended with three buttons and a bit of lace on each sleeve.

Of course her hair was stunning. Jasmine Cally Vail had her nails manicured and she went with rather heavy makeup , but used subdued colors. With the strong bangs that she had with her new hairstyle, she had to go a bit heavier than usual on the mascara and eye makeup. She wore large, 18 karat gold hoop earrings, and a wide, gold herringbone necklace. She had recently taken to wearing her glasses as they complimented her new hairstyle and color. Jasmine looked nice, period.

We drove to the courthouse and found a seat outside the courtroom. Jasmine and I sat side-by-side and chatted in a whisper. Thomas "Tara" Jefferson walked by us and gave us a slight nod. Mr. Kleber, Lisa, Jasmine and Terri dribbled into the area and I gave each a quick wave, and then turned my attention back to Jasmine. I didn’t want any of the girls wandering over to chat with us. I didn’t think they would recognize Jasmine, but I didn’t want to take any chances. If they heard her voice they might put two and two together.

Eventually Charles Pearson and two of the company’s outside counsel arrived. Charles spotted us and walked over. "Jasmine, is that you? My you look pretty to day. What are you doing here?"

"I’m here with Mr. Jefferson."

Charles looked confused for a moment, then a light went on in his head. "I’d forgotten. You said you were a paralegal and looking for work. I guess you’re working for Mr. Jefferson now?"

I started giggling to myself. ‘Actually, he’s working for Jasmine,’ I thought to myself. I really wished that I could be in the courtroom when Pearson discovered who Jasmine really was. Jasmine and Tara had strict instructions to memorize Pearson’s facial expression when he learned the truth. I wanted both of them to describe the moment to me in perfect detail later.

Jasmine shrugged her shoulders and immediately changed the subject. "Do you like my new hair color?"

"It’s absolutely striking," he said. "It looks very becoming on you."

"Thanks. Now, I need a man’s opinion on something. There is no right or wrong answer so don’t be bashful. Do you like my hair better this way, or the way I used to have it?"

"Jasmine, I like it both ways."

"That’s not an answer. Come on, I really want to know."

"I love your hair this color. It really is good. But I think I prefer you in curls. I’ve always been partial to curly hair."

"Thank you for your honest opinion. Next time I have my hair styled, I’ll put some curls into it."

"I’m sure that whatever you do, you’ll look beautiful." He glanced at his watch. "I better get going. I hope to see you again."

"You will, Charles," and she broke into a huge smile.

Jasmine picked up her purse and took a deep breath. "I guess I better get in there too. Wish me luck."

"Good luck gorgeous."

The deposition was being held in the private chambers of one of the county judges. There would be no judge for the depositions. A stenographer would record everything, while the two opposing sides deposed the witnesses. This was the opportunity for both legal parties to learn all of the details concerning the case. They had to share all of the information that each had. Witnesses were treated much as they were in a real court; they had to swear to tell the truth and they had to answer question from both lawyers. The witness’ lawyer could order that a certain question not be answered, but if there wasn’t a good reason for refusing to answer the question, it could and probably would be brought up later in front of the judge. The witnesses would be deposed one at a time, and would not hear any testimony from anyone else. When finished, they would be instructed to not discuss any details outside of the room.

Tara had been planning her attack for weeks. She started with Mr. Kleber, the head of the Human Resources Department. Most of the initial questioning concerned HR policies and guidelines. Tara had already read all of the guidelines, but this was her chance to get the details into the record. She was setting the table, so to speak.

Next, she had Kleber review all of the information that he had received concerning Jason. This included e-mails, written reviews and telephone conversations from everyone involved. Some of the documents came from Jason, some from Lisa and a few from other interested parties. However, not all of Jason’s e-mails were in the ‘official’ package. Most of the interesting discussion would concern Lisa versus Jason and what they had reported to HR. Tara pointed out all of the conflicting information coming from the different parties.

Finally, she made Kleber explain what steps he had taken and why. Why had he believed one person and not the other, and how his steps fit within the company guidelines. She hammered home the point that if the reports that Kleber had received were incorrect, then his decision to terminate Jason was incorrect. And she pointed out, that the company was responsible for any person who knowingly lied or misrepresented the facts. Kleber couldn’t claim ignorance, because it was his job to verify all the facts before acting. She made sure everyone knew that the company’s actions could only be upheld in a court of law if all of their own guidelines had been followed and only if Jason had not performed within those guidelines.

Kleber’s testimony was without controversy. He merely explained the rules that the evidence would have to meet. Next, Tara brought in Lisa. Tara spent over an hour going over every one of Lisa’s e-mails, telephone conversations and written reviews. She made Lisa clarify every point and take credit for everything she had said or written. Tara never questioned any of Lisa’s comments, she just made sure that there could be no doubt as to what Lisa had claimed.

After Lisa was finished, Tara brought in Jasmine and Terri and did the same thing. In addition, Tara repeatedly asked if any of them had instigated any acts or comments against Jason. Were they truly innocent in all encounters as they claimed? Was there anyone else who could verify or support what they said? Again, she made it perfectly clear what Terri and Jasmine were claiming. Tara nailed down their testimony in the finest details.

Then the moment of truth came. I was called into the chambers. I took a seat and immediately looked at Jasmine and then Pearson. If Pearson had been shocked by his discovery concerning Jasmine it was no longer evident. But he did look angry. I think he had put two and two together and realized that I was probably going to be on Jason/Jasmine’s side. How right he was.

Thomas "Tara" Jefferson began my questioning. We started with my very first day at work. We went over the gay comments concerning Jason. Who had said what at lunch? Who had asked additional questions later? How often did they say these things? Who else did they make these comments to? We went into as much detail as I could remember. Then Tara asked, "And let me understand the timing here, had Jason begun dressing in women’s clothing at this time?"

"No," I answered. I glanced at Pearson and he was staring at me. He was mad.

"And you know this for an absolute fact?"

"Yes, I do."

"I’m going to come back to how you can be so sure of that. But first, let’s review what happened once Jason did begin wearing women’s clothes. What were the comments once the other girls realized he was wearing women’s panties?"

I covered as many details as I could remember. We went chronologically through Jason’s increased use of women’s clothes and what the girls said and how they reacted each step of the way. We covered only what I had witnessed first hand. Pearson was getting hotter and hotter as I undermined his entire case. I repeatedly pointed out that the other girls had instigated harassment and they had lied about it under oath. Up to this point it was mostly my word against theirs, and Pearson repeatedly pointed this out.

Next, Tara reviewed the documents that had been sent to HR. The documents that Kleber and his department had used to justify firing Jason. It was at this point that Tara presented the logs that Pearson had withheld form Tara during the discovery process. Tara made an off-hand comment about the document not appearing during the discovery phase, but now wasn’t the time to discuss why it hadn’t been delivered with the other documents.

We went through every one of the points in my logs, and I presented documented refutation to most of Lisa’s complaints and poor reviews. Pearson was really angry at this point. He tried to argue on the first one or two points, and Tara pulled out documented evidence each time. It was becoming evident that Pearson had been out prepared by Tara. She was ready to beat him on every point that he tried to bring up. Tara had been preparing for these points for over two months. Pearson had never expected to see any of them. There was little wonder as to why Tara was winning.

By the end of the line of questioning, we had defeated just about every claim that the company could make as to Jason’s performance and workplace actions. But they still had one point to fall back on; Jason was dressing inappropriately for work and that alone was enough reason to dismiss him. They could still argue that it was his decision to do this, and he had to accept the consequences.

That was when the conversation became really interesting. Tara began, "Earlier, Karen, you said that you knew exactly when Jason began wearing women’s clothing. Tell us how you are able to be so sure of your self."

I looked at Pearson and began, "Because I am the one who made Jason wear those clothes. Each and every day I brought clothes to work and I made him put the clothes on, and then I made him show me the clothes to prove that he was wearing them. Jason didn’t decide to wear women’s clothes, I made him wear women’s clothes." Charles Pearson’s face registered pure hatred. If there hadn’t been other people in the room, he probably would have strangled me. I loved that look.

"Why?" Tara continued.

That was where everything became difficult. Even after all that time, I still didn’t know why. I explained how I found out that he was a closet transvestite. I explained how I had been embarrassed by Mikey. I even explained my anger at Pearson and the rest of his male staff. I explained my resultant anger at men in general, and my desire to humiliate Jason. I went over everything that I had discussed months earlier with Tara at our dinner appointment. But that still didn’t explain why to my satisfaction. Everyone seemed satisfied with my reasoning, but I still didn’t buy it. At least not all of it. I’m not sure that I ever will understand why I did it.

I continued with my story on the humiliation of Jason. Tara pulled out copies of the pictures of Jasmine that I had saved on my computer. I explained the morning routine of dressing Jason and then reviewing the pictures. I explained how it continued until Jason moved in with me. At that point I started dressing him at home, and I forced him to dress in more feminine clothes as the days and weeks went by. I controlled his dressing, and so I was the one responsible for the attire that he wore to work. One of the lawyers at his company intimidated him into doing what the company eventually fired him for.

When I finally finished, the dynamics of the room were much different than when I had entered. I had been in the witness chair for almost three hours. We decided to take a break. Pearson immediately walked over to me and said, "I’ll expect your resignation letter first thing tomorrow morning."

"I’ll bring it to your office at 8:00 A.M. Will you be there by then?" He turned and walked away.

I walked over to Tara and Jasmine, "That was pleasant," I said with a twisted smile. "Ok, tell me what happened when Pearson figured out who Jasmine really was?"

"It was great," said Jasmine. "I was sitting at the table with Tara when the stenographer came in. Pearson and his guys were sitting at the table and just waiting. Tara says, ‘Ok, shall we get started?’ and Pearson says, ‘Aren’t you going to wait for your client?’"

Tara broke in and said, "That’s when I replied, ‘My client’s here, we can get started.’ It finally dawned on Pearson. He looked at Jasmine and this dumbfounded look went across his face."

"And he started to turn red," Jasmine interceded. "And the best part was when one of the other lawyers looks at Charles and says, "Are you alright? Would you like something to drink?"

"I wanted to break out laughing," Tara said. "It was the best thing that I have ever seen in a court of law. He never said a word for the first two witnesses."

"Yea, he just sat there while the other guys made all of the comments and asked their questions."

"He looked like a deer in the headlights. It was great!" Tara finished.

I was all smiles. "I think he recovered a little. He just told me he wants my resignation first thing tomorrow morning."

"I’m sorry to hear that," Tara said.

"Me too," added Jasmine.

"But it wasn’t unexpected was it?" Tara asked.

"Nope. Now I hope I can negotiate an escape without having my entire career and future destroyed."

"You will. I have all the faith in the world in you," Jasmine said. She took hold of my hand and gave it a squeeze while she gave me a reassuring smile. "Thanks for everything you’ve done for me. Especially sitting up there and telling everyone the truth. Only a real friend would do that."

"Enough pity," I said. I turned to Tara, "Are you done?"

"I think I’ve done enough damage for one day. Let me go ask Charles if he wants to call it a day." Tara left the room and I slumped into a chair.

"Are you ok?" Jasmine asked.

"Yea. I’m just tired. That was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. I’m emotionally drained. I need some food and a drink."

"I agree. Here comes Tara. Well?"

"We’re outta here."

"Where’s the nearest bar," I asked.

"Follow me, I’m buying. Thomas "Tara" Jefferson led us out of the courthouse and down the street to a corner bar with cold drinks and excellent hamburgers. We celebrated our initial battle with the corporate world. We found a booth at Tara’s bar and ordered a round of drinks. After a bit of idle chit-chat Jasmine asked, "What’s the next step?"

Tara responded, "We meet again tomorrow at nine to finish the depositions. I still want to call John Taylor and nail him down on his memo to Karen. And we haven’t heard yet from you Jasmine. I’m sure that Pearson has some questions for you."

"Oh boy, I can hardly wait," she said with absolutely no enthusiasm.

"Don’t worry Jasmine. Just remember what we’ve talked about, and you’ll be just fine. Remember, smile and look Charles in the eye. You’ve already got one leg up on him."

"Don’t under estimate him," I warned.

"What are you going to do tomorrow?" Tara asked.

"I’ll go to work just like normal. I’m prepared for my meeting with Mr. Pearson. I’ve got my resignation typed and I have the pictures from his date with Jasmine. If he decides to come in early and sack me, I’ll be ready. If not, I’ll go through my normal routine and wait for him to finish your deposition. I’m sure that he’ll return to the office then."

I took another drink and then asked Tara, "What was your take on today? Did we make our point?"

"Without a doubt, Karen. It was a devastating day for the defense. They’ll be rethinking everything tonight."

"Do you think they’ll settle out of court?" Jasmine asked.

"Not yet. We’re dealing with a big corporation. Pearson couldn’t settle tomorrow even if he wanted to. There are several layers of checks and balances and he’ll have to work his way through all of them." Tara smiled at Jasmine and added, "But we gave him plenty to consider. We’ll have to finish tomorrow and then wait for him to make the next move."

"But you will apply a little pressure, right?" I asked.

"Yes. It will take close to two weeks for us both to receive the transcripts of the deposition. As soon as they arrive, I’ll call Mr. Pearson and make our first offer."

"With a deadline of course." Jasmine stated.

"Of course. Each week I’ll call him and raise the price."

"Do you think he’ll think we’re serious?"

"Probably not. He’s going to assume it’s just a negotiating technique. But if he does make a counter offer, and I refuse it once, then he might assume that we are serious. It’s going to be a big poker game and we’ll have to see who blinks first."

"And if we go to trial …?"

"I’m confident that we’ll win, Jasmine. But you never know what a jury will award. To be honest, I don’t think a jury will offer a transvestite as much money as we’re asking for. Our society hasn’t come that far. I think they’ll give us justice, but not much money. — maybe even nothing. And I suspect Pearson thinks the same way."

"And do you think Pearson is willing to gamble?"

"If not for your date with him, yes I think he is willing to go to trial. He’ll load that jury with as many homophobic men as he can find. They’ll sit in that jury box and dissect you with a fine tooth comb. I really don’t want to go there."

"But there is my date with him, right?"

"Yea. Strange things can happen at a trial and he knows that also. If some how I can bring out his date with you, he is going to be extremely embarrassed. I’m betting that he doesn’t want that to happen. We’ll actually have a good read on him after he fires Karen. If he agrees to your demands and signs your agreement, then I’ll feel much better about our chances."

"Oh joy," I murmured.

The next morning I decided to go with a soft and feminine dress. I applied a bit more makeup than usual and tied my hair up. I wore a pair of twwo-inch heels. I dropped a bottle of bright nail polish in my purse. I decided that once I reached the office I’d put on a couple of coats before Pearson came in.

I didn’t think that I would be able to haggle it out with him if I tried the power business-look. It wasn’t going to work with this man. But if I could remind him of my feminine charms and by association, Jasmine’s, I thought maybe I could forge a small advantage.

Jasmine gave me a hug and kiss as I left for work. "Good luck, Karen. I love you."

I reached the office by seven. No one else was there. I sat at my desk and applied the nail polish to my nails. Then I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. I rehearsed my speech to Pearson. I knew it was a waste of time. As soon as I walked into his office, I knew that I would forget the entire speech, and I’d stumble around answering his questions and accusations.

And that is exactly what happened. He arrived at work at 1:30 and called me. He wanted to see me immediately. I took out my purse, grabbed my compact and lipstick and I freshened the color on my lips. ‘Let’s go,’ I said to myself.

When I reached his office, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Come in Karen. And close the door behind you." I walked in and he was sitting behind his desk. He was leaning back in his chair and had his hands clasped and sitting on his lap. He stared at me as I walked in and stood in front of his desk. He did not offer me a chair, so I opened my file folder and dropped two copies of my resignation on his desk.

"Is this your resignation?" he asked coldly.

"Yes sir."

He picked them up and took a quick glance at them. "Why are there two copies here?"

"Because one copy is for me."

He gave me a questioning look and then said, "Maybe I had better read this. Sit."

I sat. He read. He was a fast reader, and he finished in less than two minutes. "You’ve got big balls, Karen." He smiled at his little joke. I said nothing. My speech had long been forgotten. "And why do you think I should agree to this?" he demanded.

"Because it ties up a lot of loose ends, Mr. Pearson. It puts this entire episode behind us, and there are no further issues to bring up later."

"You must feel pretty proud of your self, Karen. You and this Jason person. How long did it take you to put this extortion plan together?"

"There was no plan, Mr. Pearson. I never planned this. It happened. It happened mostly because of you, you and your laissez-faire approach to managing this office. You and your sexist attitude towards me."

"What are you talking about, Karen? My sexist attitude?"

"Come on, I’m not totally stupid. I was here to merely fill that little box on your forms to the government. Yes, we have a woman in a professional position. Not that we’ll ever let her into the true decision-making level of the company."

"What are you blathering about?"

"In over nine months here, I met with you once. Just once. I was able to meet with my direct manager only three times. Three whole times!" I spat at him. "I asked for additional meetings and additional guidance and I was always told that he was too busy to see me. Every time I asked someone to join me for lunch I was turned down. I was never asked to lunch by any of your people. It didn’t take long to see what my status was. I was a token female, and all of your protestations won’t change that."

He changed his attack, "What do you mean this was my fault with my laid-back approach? I didn’t lean on this staff and drive them crazy with micro-managing. I thought most people now-a-days responded better to that approach. I disagree 100 percent with you Ms. Marlowe."

"No, you can’t claim any of that crap. You provided no guidance and no management at all. You left it up to your office manager with no over-sight of her. It went to her head and she acted as she and her little clique damn well pleased. And Taylor’s memo reprimanding me for trying to lay out some guidance is proof of it. Did you tell him to send the reprimand to me?"

He swung his chair 90 degrees and looked out the window. It was at that point that I realized that I had hit the mark. He probably did tell Taylor to send it. Or at least he gave Taylor permission to send it. Up until now I thought he was relatively innocent in all of this, but now I knew better. He had decided how I would be treated and utilized. He did control things the way he wanted, and the office ran the way that he wanted. This wasn’t laissez-faire, this was behind-the-scenes manipulation. He was the enemy here.

"Ms. Marlowe, I’m not going to buy any of this feminine whining. You will not get away with any of this."

He swiveled his chair back around and leaned forward, trying to intimidate me. "I have no intention of signing this contract of yours. I will terminate you with or without you’re resignation letter. And If I want to initiate disbarment proceedings against you, I will do so."

I stood up and reached for the contracts. I placed them in my file case, and then I took out a picture and handed it over to Mr. Pearson. "Here," I said. "Jasmine asked me to give this to you. She asked me to tell you that she had a great time. She thought that maybe you would like a souvenir of your time together."

Pearson froze. He stared at me with his cold eyes and through clenched teeth he said, "So this is where your plan becomes evident. Your cards are on the table. Blackmail is it?"

"Not at all," I said. "You’re so hung up on this extortion plan and blackmail plan. I said under oath that there was no plan. I merely handled the situation to my advantage. I manipulated things that evidently you set up to your desires. The problem is, you’re pissed because I turned your stupid incompetence against you.

"Well Mr. Pearson, I’m going to make a confession just between us. There was one thing I planned. It was your Christmas party."

"How did you manipulate that? You set me up with Jasmine to embarrass me, admit it."

"Get over it. How in the world was I going to convince you to hit on Jasmine? Shit, I didn’t even know that you were divorced. No, the only thing I planned was fucking Jasmine in your own bedroom on your own bed. ‘Wardrobe malfunction’? I used that excuse to convince you to let us have your bedroom. I stripped off her panties, laid her on your bed and then climbed on top and fucked her. It was great. By the way, did you get my souvenir from that night? I left the condom wrapper on your pillow."

I had hit the bullseye. I could see it in his eyes. He had found the condom, and now he knew where it came from. I had him off balance and now was the time to finish with my planned speech. "If you sign the contract, I walk out of here and you never see me again. I’ll even leave town. I think you’ve got enough other problems, Mr. Pearson. You’ve got some employees who committed perjury to start with. There is the question of some missing subpoenaed files. And you’ve got a lawsuit that’s going to be very embarrassing with upper management. You don’t need me around. Here," and I placed the contracts back on his desk. "Signing the contract costs you nothing except some petty revenge. And you don’t want to go there. Sign it and I’m gone. Period. I’ll be waiting in my office." I walked out before he could say anything else.

I went straight to the ladies room and soaked a paper towel in the sink. I sat down on the comfort couch and placed the towel on my forehead. I leaned back and closed my eyes. That was the toughest thing that I had ever done. That was much more difficult than the deposition the day before. I was proud of myself. I didn’t totally fold, and I did get my message across at the end. There were many things that I should have said or said better, but I didn’t fold. Wow!

It took twenty or thirty minutes for my pulse to return to even close to normal. I tossed the towel and returned to my office. A signed copy of the letter was sitting on my desk. The emotion that flowed through me was something that I had never expected. Relief is only the tip of the iceberg. At first I wasn’t sure that he had signed it. I read the entire contract and looked at his signature. It was still there. The invisible ink had not disappeared.

I didn’t know what to do first. I started picking up the few items that I had left and stuffed them into my briefcase. I couldn’t grab items fast enough. I was afraid that I would leave something behind. I walked around the room one last time, picked up my purse and briefcase and walked out. I walked out and never looked at anyone. I didn’t notice any of the offices or the cubicles as I walked straight to the elevator and hit the button. It took forever to arrive. I wanted out before Pearson changed his mind and came running after me.

I got off the elevator, and almost ran to my old rust-bucket. I climbed in and drove out of the parking deck, continuously looking in my mirror to see if anyone was following me. As soon as I reached the street, I turned left and started smiling. "I did it!" I screamed to no one. "I did it!" I couldn’t wait to get home and give Jasmine the news.

The full effect had sunk in by the time I reached our apartment. Jasmine was already home. She had returned directly from the deposition. "Karen, you’re home," she yelled as she ran over and gave me a kiss and a hug. "You’re home early. Did Pearson go back to the office? Are you fired?"

"Yep. He came back and we had our talk." I said noncommittally.

"And well?" she asked.

"It couldn’t have gone better," I said. Jasmine started jumping up and down. She grabbed me around the neck and gave me a big sloppy kiss.

"That’s great," she said. "Tell me the entire story. I want to hear all of the details."

"Sure, let’s sit on the couch. But first, how did your day go?"

"Ok. No problems. Charles asked me almost no questions at all, mostly he had me confirm facts. He had me confirm the reports that I had written. He asked if Jasmine and Terri had indeed committed the things that I claimed, calling me names and messing with my desk. It didn’t last nearly as long as I thought it would. Tara said afterwards that she was surprised."

"Well, that seems consistent with my meeting. He acted very tough and adversarial at first, but I gave him your picture and pointed out that he had some perjury problems on his hands, and he came around."

"What exactly did he say when you gave him the picture?"

"He accused me of blackmail. He said, ‘So this is your plan.’ I told him there was no way in the world that I could possibly manipulate him into falling for you. I told him that I didn’t even know he was divorced. But what really finished him off was when I told him my plan for his Christmas party, and how we pulled it off. I told him about the souvenir I left on his bed. That really shook him. I think that’s when he realized that we had him."

We talked for a while longer, going over our individual days. Then it was time for a reality check. "Jasmine, you realize this is going to change everything for us, don’t you?"

"What do you mean?"

"First, we’re going to have to move. We can’t afford this apartment any longer."

"We can’t? I’m still working. I’ve got money."

"Jasmine, do you know what this apartment costs?"

"No."

"More than you make, Sweetie. Also, I’m not ever going to find another job in this city."

"I thought you’re contract with Pearson handled that. He won’t disbar you, will he?"

"No, but he will black list me."

"But you have you’re contract, you can make him stop."

I just shook my head. Jasmine really was naíve. "Sweetie, I’ll never know it. He’ll talk to people behind my back and there will be no trail. I’ll be stopped from working and I’ll never know why."

"Can he do that? Will he?"

"Most assuredly."

"So what can you do, Karen?" Jasmine was sincerely worried.

"I have to leave Chicago. I have to go some where else and start over."

"Where? And what will you do?"

"I’ve been thinking about going to Wisconsin, Milwaukee. And what? I’ve always wanted to have my own law office. Kind of like Tara. But the problem is, I’m going to need a secretary and paralegal. Plus I’m going to need an office and office equipment. I don’t have any money. In fact, I’m still $30,000 in debt thanks to my school loans. I’m not sure what I can do."

"I do," Jasmine said. "I know where you can get a really good secretary and paralegal for almost nothing." She smiled at me and I returned the smile.

"I’ll bet you do. Who might that be?" I was grinning.

"Probably the most beautiful transvestite that you’ve ever made love to. I’m sure she will work for you."

"Thanks," I said and I leaned over and kissed her on her soft, colored lips. "I like the flavor of your lipstick," I told her.

"I like yours too."

"But we still have a problem. Money."

"Not a problem. I’m going to win this case. And any money I win is half yours."

"No, I won’t accept that, gorgeous. I have a slightly different idea."

"What might that be, honey?"

"Would you be my partner? You put up the money, you work for me and I supply the legal shingle. Half the proceeds belong to you and half belong to me. How does that sound?"

"Um, let me think about that." She rolled her eyes, looked around the room, twiddled her thumbs and continued to ignore me.

"Well?" I asked.

"Under one condition. You’re going to be the brains behind the business, but I’m going to be the money. I want 51% of the control."

"What?" I shrieked. "Since when do you think you deserve 51% of anything?" I meant it. I was the one who had gotten her this far. If not for me, she would still be hiding in the closet.

"Since I have the money."

"If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have anything."

"Maybe. No, you’re right. If it wasn’t for you Jasmine would never have blossomed. But Jasmine has arrived, and it is time that she started taking care of her self. I want 51% of the control," she grinned.

"Damn it. I’ve created a monster."

"A beautiful monster, mind you."

"That’s your opinion," I said.

"No, that’s Charles’ opinion. And yours. And Tara’s. I’m beautiful and I think so and that’s that. I want 51% and you’re the boss on a day to day basis. I will address you as boss lady, ma’am, mistress and employer. I will make you coffee, type your briefs, run out for donuts and lunch, take dictation, stall or lie to clients on the phone and fuck you whenever you ask. I’ll even crawl under your desk, pull down your panties and lick your pussy while you talk to a client. But I will also own 51% of the business. Period. No further discussion." She extended her hand towards me, "Deal?"

"I didn’t mean to create a monster," I said. I shook hands.

"Great," she said. "To make it legal, you have to seal it with a kiss and then we have to consummate the deal. We can do that right now." I kissed her.

The next couple of weeks Jasmine went to work, and I started researching my new job. I went online to look for office options in Milwaukee. I checked out the competition to see if there was any lack of lawyers in Milwaukee, and as expected, they didn’t need another attorney. But that was going to be the case anywhere we went. I would just have to make a niche for myself. I made a trip or two to the city to perform my own personal reconnaissance. I checked with the local Better Business Board and the local law board. I talked with some of the local advertising agencies and tried to get a flavor of the city. And I got a listing of dates for the Wisconsin bar exam.

Jasmine’s trial was coming up and we were sure that Pearson would ask for a continuance. The normal operating procedure would be to stall as long as possible. Therefore, we were shocked when Tara called and said Pearson had made an offer. "He wants to settle out of court." Of course he does I thought. We were asking for millions, I figured he would offer a couple hundred thousand. I wasn’t wrong. He offered half a million. Not bad.

"No!"

"What? That’s half a million dollars!" I said.

"Yea, and Tara gets a third, then I pay another third for taxes and I end up with what?"

"Do the math," I said.

"I did, it’s only about $200,000."

"That’s not bad," I said. "What did you start with?"

"That’s not what counts. My answer is no! Tara, counter with $3.5 million."

Tara answered, "Jasmine, you’ve got big balls. But if you force him to trial, you might get even less."

"I know. No, I’m not going to accept. $3.5million and no less."

"You’re getting greedy Jasmine," I said.

"No I’m not. I don’t expect that much. I’m just negotiating. Maybe I’ll send him another picture."

"No!" said Tara. "That would be suicide. I’ll call him back tomorrow. You realize that it will take several days for him to respond, even if he wants to."

"I know," she said. Jasmine was adamant.

One week later, Tara called again. "Pearson had made his last and final offer. Take it or leave it. If you don’t like it, he’ll see your ass in court."

"Tough talk," Jasmine said. "How much?"

"One point seven million dollars."

"Holy shit! I’ll take it," she yelled.

"Are you sure that’s enough?" I asked.

"Let me do the math first," she grinned. She started counting on her fingers. "Somewhere around three quarter of a million after taxes. That might make me forget the son-of-a-bitches."

"If you say so," I said.

"When do I get the money?"

"It’ll take about 5 weeks before I get it," Tara said. "I’ll deposit the money in your account, minus my commission. Let’s say the middle of next month. Can you live with that?"

"We can make do," Jasmine giggled.

It took us almost 5 months before we got moved to Milwaukee. I passes my bar exam on the first try, so that was a large weight off me. As soon as Pearson agreed to the deal, Jasmine made a call to a cosmetic surgeon. She made arrangements for breast enhancement and liposuction. It took several weeks to recover, but it took only one week before she wanted to have sex. We were very careful, and stuck to digital manipulation. But she was satisfied.

Her figure was awesome. She had elected ‘C’ cup breasts. Not too big, and with her tiny waist they looked very proportional. She wasn’t a big girl and she didn’t need to be a caricature. Her figure was simple and beautiful.

After her recuperation, we started getting ready for our move to Milwaukee. We were packing boxes and preparing for the move. Jasmine wanted to have a special dinner to put an end to our Chicago life, and prepare for our next life. We went to a very upscale restaurant; Jasmine was paying. After the meal and during our dessert, Jasmine handed me an envelope.

"What’s this?" I asked.

"Open it and find out," she answered.

I opened the envelope. It contained a cashier’s check for seventy five thousand dollars. I couldn’t believe it. "What’s this for?" I asked.

"It’s for you to pay off your school debt. You helped me pay off my debts, I’m helping you," she smiled.

"But there is an extra forty five thousand dollars here."

"Well, I also owe you for back rent. And you bought groceries for both of us."

"This is amazing Jasmine. What am I supposed to do with the rest of this money?"

"You’re supposed to use it as a down payment on the partnership’s transportation vehicle."

"A car?"

"No a BMW. The head of a professional law practice should look like a winner. She should drive a car that says, ‘This law firm wins’. I think it should be a black BMW. What do you think boss lady?"

I couldn’t help but laugh.

EPILOGUE

It took us the better part of five months before we had more than three clients. Business was slow to start up, but we were getting more calls and things were starting to look positive. One Saturday morning we slept in a little longer than usual. Jasmine snuggled next to me and kissed me on the cheek. Her hand slid across my satin-smooth negligee and came to rest over my pussy. She pulled the hem up on my negligee and exposed my pussy. Her finger slid into my slit and began to caress my clitoris. My legs automatically opened and invited her into me.

Jasmine hiked up her baby-doll and rolled on top of me. She slid her little penis into me and began stroking in and out. She pulled her penis out and stroked it against my clitoris for a minute, then slid back in and continued thrusting in and out. She kissed my nose and gave it a little lick, then moved to my lips. She had morning breath, but then I was sure that I did also. It didn’t matter. My mind was centered on my erotic zones as Jasmine did an excellent job of slowly and deliberately bringing me to an arousing climax.

Jasmine collapsed on me, her firm tits pressing against my much smaller and softer breasts. We layed together for a few minutes, and then she raised her head off my shoulder and fluttered her eyelashes at me. "When are you going to propose to me?" she asked.

"Oh heavens," I said. "You silly sissy, why would I want to marry you? I get all the sex I want now. Why should I pay for something that I get free now?"

She smiled and kissed me. Her lips were very soft. "Because the free trial period is over. Maybe that’s why."

"Are you cutting me off?" I asked with a grin.

"Of course not. I would never do that. But I think its time to have a ring. Don’t you?"

"What would the arrangements be?"

"I’ll be the most loving wife that you could ever imagine. I’ll worship you, even more than I do now. I’ll be your wife and I’ll raise your, I mean our children. I’ll be your housewife if you like, or I’ll be your secretary and paralegal as now. But I do insist on wearing a beautiful gown at my wedding ceremony. And of course I want you to be in a beautiful gown also, with a tiara and flowers and long trains and veils and high heels and a huge diamond ring."

"Is that all?"

"Of course not. But we can start there and negotiate."

We married at a small ceremony three months later. Tara stood for Jasmine and my mother stood for me. We both wore beautiful dresses and had flowers in our hair. It was a double ring ceremony — two identical 3 karat rings. It was only 14 months later that we had our first child. A 10 pound 3 ounce bouncing boy. A daughter joined him two years later. One son and one daughter. Both enjoyed the softness and joy of a feminine childhood and lifestyle. We spoiled them and doted on them. They lacked for nothing and were spoiled rotten. Eventually, as adolescence approached, Jessie chose a male lifestyle with our blessings. But before he chose, he did make a beautiful daughter.

Readers, Please Remember to Leave a Comment.

The Samantha Project

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Organizational:

Title Page

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Taxonomy upgrade extras:

The Samantha Project

by G. L. Hudson

The Samantha Project - Chapter 1-5

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. The pulchritudinous Lisa Hawthorne and her mother begin plotting their transformation of Sam Springer into Lisa’s future wife and concubine.

Femdom, crossdressing
The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

CHAPTER 1

Lisa nervously pushed her food around her plate as she listened to her mother make small talk. The beautiful, 20 year old, college co-ed had ordered her eggs sunnyside up, and the yolks were now broken and smeared all over her plate, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her mother was saying something about Maggie driving her back to school that afternoon, after the two of them went shopping. Or something to that affect.

Maggie had been eating with them, and she finally finished her breakfast. “Ma’am may I clean up the dishes?” Miss Mona dismissively waved her hand at Maggie. Maggie collected some of the dishes and headed off to the kitchen.

With Maggie out of the way, Lisa put her fork down and quelled her nervous stomach. She was wearing a pink cashmere sweater with a gold chain and a heart shaped pendant. While nervously twisting her gold-chain and pendant around her finger, Lisa announced, “Mom, I’ve met someone at school.” Mother calmly set her fork on her plate, used her napkin to daintily wipe her mouth and dropped the napkin next to her plate. She then set her elbows on the table, clasped her fingers together and settled her chin on her fingers. She looked at Lisa and gave her a pretty smile and permission to proceed.

“He’s a boy,” Lisa declared.

“I gathered that,” her mother said without losing her warm smile. “And …?”

“He’s really cute. I might even say pretty.”

“That’s encouraging.”

“He’s only a freshman, so he’s 2 years younger than me.”

“That is also encouraging.”

“Since next week is spring break, I was thinking about inviting home for the week,” she said hopefully.

Lisa’s mother rested her arms on the table and straightened her posture. “First things first, daughter; what are your intentions here?”

“Well mom, I think he has tremendous potential. He is short, even petite. And he has just the cutest dimples,” she said in a swooning voice.

“Your intentions daughter; do you intend to uphold the family traditions?”

“But of course mother. I am a Hawthorne.”

“Excellent dear. I am so happy to hear you confirm that. Your grandmother will be thrilled. Now, what of his family?”

“That’s the best news mother, he is an orphan. No parents and no siblings. Only foster parents. And oh so pretty,” she added dreamily.

Her mother smiled and patted her on her hand. “So you think he is marriage material, Lisa dear?”

“Oh yes mom, he is so sweet and demure and he listens to me so well.”

“That is just great, dear. I am so happy for you. So when do you want to get started?”

“Right away, mother. That is why I want to bring him home for spring break. To get things started.”

“Well I think that would be grand! Grandma and I can size up your young fellow and help you decide how best to proceed. Do you think he will be any trouble for you?”

“Oh no mother. Like I said, he is very pretty. And he so sweet and demure. He will do whatever I tell him to do, I am sure of that. He passed 3 different psych tests that I ran on him. It’s just …” and Lisa gave her mother a worried look.

“Yes sweetheart, tell me what concerns you.”

“Well it is father. It’s just …”

Her mother quickly cut her off, “You are afraid that father might scare him off. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry about that, Lisa honey. We will simply tell him that your father is working.”

“All week?”

“Your father does keep long hours, doesn’t he? And he does travel a bit.”

“Of course,” Lisa conceded. “What about Maggie though?”

Again her mother patted her hand to comfort her, “It really is none of Maggie’s business, now is it? Maggie does what she is told.”

At that moment Maggie walked back into the dining room, picked up a few more plates and dishes, and without uttering a word returned to the kitchen. The girls watched her as she went about her chores and then turned to each other again. “Can Maggie give me a ride back to school when she is done?” Lisa asked.

“Of course. I think you are in a hurry to get back to your young project, aren’t you? So what exactly are you going to do with your petite boy, Lisa dear?”

“Why mother, I am going to feminize him and turn him into the most beautiful and adoring and obedient boy a wife could ever desire. Just like you and grandma did.”

The two girls stood and hugged each other tightly. “My baby girl is growing up,” mother said with tears forming in her eyes.

CHAPTER 2

Maggie returned home from her chauffeur duties and found Mona in her drawing room, sitting at her writing desk. Maggie was serving afternoon tea, but she was still wearing her chauffeur uniform. Maggie’s chauffeur clothes were not your typical style for driving. In fact, they were fit more for horseback riding. She was wearing a white turtleneck sweater under a gray, dressage dress-coat. The coat had leather patches on the shoulders and elbows. With the coat she was wearing gray riding trousers with the tops tucked into her calf-high boots. Her hair was put up in a French braid, and she wore no jewelry except for a dainty wrist watch.

Mona was busy at her desk writing and crossing-off points from a rather elaborate list. Maggie set the tea on Mona’s desk without Mona acknowledging Maggie in the least. Maggie prepared her own tea, then sat down in a comfortable, wing-back chair. She crossed her legs and took a sip of her tea while she waited for Mona to finish her task.

Without looking up from her list Mona asked, “Did you get Lisa off to school safely?”

“Yeas ma’am. No troubles.”

Mona said nothing, but continued with her list, vigorously adding several items to the bottom. After several more minutes of writing and tapping her pen on the desk, Mona set down her pen and sighed in relief. She picked up her tea and swiveled around to address Maggie. She quickly spotted Maggie sitting in the corner chair. A disgusted look crossed over Mona’s face. In a stern voice she said, “Maggie, this is not a garage. Your driving duties are finished for the day. Please go change into something more appropriate.”

“Yes ma’am,” Maggie answered dutifully. She stood and quickly walked from the room.

Mona leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her tea. “I swear,” she said to no one, “that girl needs constant supervision. She is going to drive me batty.”

It took a full fifteen minutes for Maggie to return in her maid uniform. By that time Mona’s tea was finished and Maggie’s tea was cold. Maggie refilled Mona’s cup and then warmed her own. When she was finished, Maggie returned to her chair, and re-took her position.

Mona watched the operation with an emotionless expression. When Maggie finally returned to her chair, Mona watched her smooth her ruffled skirt, then sit and cross her legs in a very feminine manner. Mona looked at Maggie’s legs and couldn’t stifle a small smile. Maggie did indeed have beautiful legs.

Mona sipped her tea and took her time composing her instructions to Maggie. “Did Lisa tell you she was bringing her boy friend home with her next week?”

Maggie looked surprised. “No she did not.”

“Not surprising,” Mona noted. “She is worried about you and I am sure that is why she did not say anything to you.”

“Worried? About me? But why, Miss Mona?” Maggie was quite perplexed.

“Isn’t it obvious, Maggie dear? She doesn’t want you scaring away her new friend.”

Maggie began to complain but Mona quickly cut her off, “We will have to take a few precautions. You will need to take the week off from your office job. I want you here full time in your maid capacity.” Maggie opened her mouth to speak but Mona quickly swished her finger to and fro to stop her. “Close your pretty red lips and just listen. I have already talked with mother and told her the situation. Mother positively agreed that you should have the week off so that you can tend full time to your domestic duties. Work can wait, this is important to Lisa.

“Also, I want you to spend full time in the maid’s quarters while Lisa’s friend is here. Move whatever you need before he arrives. And I want you in your finest, dress uniforms. Send everything out to the cleaners this week.

“Next, I want you to concentrate on Lisa’s bedroom this week. I want it sparkling. Air out the room during the day and make sure that there are fresh flowers for next week. Put satin sheets on the bed and pull out Lisa’s old stuffed animals and dolls, and place them around the room. Lisa’s friend will be staying there, and I want the room to be especially frilly and feminine for him.

“Then prepare the spare bedroom for Lisa. Give her satin sheets and prepare the room just as soft and frilly as her own room. You never know if the two of them might not sneak off together for a bit of petting and kissing.”

Maggie blushed just a bit but responded appropriately, “Yes ma’am.”

“You will pick them up after lunch next Friday. I want you to tell them that you will handle the luggage, and then put the kids in the car. When you go to the trunk, load only Lisa’s luggage. Leave the boy’s luggage behind. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“When you arrive here, usher the kids into the house and tell them that you will handle their luggage. Then I want you to immediately slip into your maid uniform and prepare tea. There will be 6 of us. Get those chocolate cakes that I particularly like. Any questions?”

“No ma’am.”

“I want you to move your salon appointment from Saturday to Friday. Take this Friday off too. I want you available for driving the kids around on Saturday. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.” Mona seemed to finish with her instructions and so Maggie took the opportunity to ask a question, “Miss Mona, why does Lisa think I’ll scare away her boyfriend?”

“Well isn’t it obvious, silly. He might not like the prospect of being domesticated and feminized like Lisa’s father.”

Maggie was even more confused. “Why not? I don’t understand?”

“Come now Maggie, Sam isn’t volunteering like you did. Lisa is going to have to train him slowly and clandestinely before he fully understands what his new role will be. We don’t want him to turn and run, now do we?” Mona asked as she began giggling. “This is going to be such a grand adventure!” she chirped as she giggled again. Mona looked into Maggie’s eyes and said, “Sometimes I wish you would have put up more of a fight. You were such an easy sissy!”

Maggie looked towards her lap and muttered, “I’m sorry I disappointed you ma’am.” She looked so dejected that Mona had to apologize.

Mona placed her cup and saucer on the desk and stood. She walked over behind Maggie and leaned over the back of the chair and placed her arms around Maggie. She cuddled Maggie’s head between her breasts and made soft cooing sounds. “Maggie, you turned out just beautiful and I love you for it. It’s just that sometimes the chase is as much fun as the catch. Don’t you think?” She gave Maggie a kiss on the head and then a little pat on the hair.

Mona walked back towards her desk and announced, “I have a lot more to do on this list. Please clean up and then you may begin preparing dinner.” Maggie was dismissed.

CHAPTER 3

All week long the telephone calls flew back and fourth between Mona and her daughter. “Did you get my list?”

A reluctant, “Yea.”

“And we need a good picture of the two of you side-by-side. It will help us judge his size. Do you have a picture that you can e-mail me?”

“Of course, mom. But …”

“Do you know his shoe size?”

“No.”

“We’ll start with tea Friday afternoon, and then grandma and grandpa can join us for dinner also. Maggie can make one of her dessert specialties.”

“Mom!” Lisa screamed.

“What, dear?”

“Mom, give me some space. This is my boy friend, my dream. You’re taking all the fun out of this. This list is like a recipe — How to Transform a Boy into the Ideal Wife. Mom, I want to do this myself.”

Mona backpedaled as fast as she could. “Of course, dear. These are only some ideas for you. You have to do all the work. These are only suggestions and tips. When I was in your heels, your grandmother passed along some of her tips to me, of which some I was able to use and some flopped. Now I am passing some of those ideas along to you, but you have to execute everything. Every boy is different and so you have to make all the final decisions. I’m just trying to give you some suggestions. You make all the final decisions, dear.”

That seemed to mollify Lisa. “Ok mom. I’ll study the list tonight and see if there are some ideas that I can use.”

The next day they were back on the phone again. “What time would you like your salon appointment?”

“Is it too late to get in Saturday morning?”

“Not for you sweetie. What do you want for Samantha?”

“Samantha?”

“Well dear, I mean, he needs a feminine name and I just assumed that this would be an obvious choice.”

“Well I did choose Samantha, but you’re assuming so much, mom.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just excited for you. Do you want to go to the salon on Saturday morning?”

Lisa seemed a bit conciliatory towards he mother, “Yes. Make an appointment for both of us. How does a cut and style and a facial sound?”

“Perfect, Lisa. I’ll set it up.”

Later that day, “Lisa, your grandmother and I think Samantha is probably one size larger than you for panties, what do you think?”

“Mom! You can’t go out shopping for undies! I want to make those choices, mom.” Lisa was beginning to whine a little, as well as complain. “This is my boyfriend, not yours and grandmother’s.”

“But of course dear, but when are you going to get the chance to go shopping between now and Friday?”

“But mom, you’re trying to take over everything!”

“No, no dear. I am only your feet here. You go on-line and pick out what styles and colors that you want. I’ll run over to Victoria’s and pick them up for you. Is that acceptable?”

A reluctant, “Yea, I guess so.”

“You get on-line and pick out his entire wardrobe for next week. Just send me a note tonight and Maggie and I’ll go buy them this week.”

“Maggie? Is she going …” Lisa sounded worried.

Mona quickly cut her off, “You don’t have to worry about Maggie. I’ve discussed this with her. She is going to take off work next week and spend all of her time as our maid. She will be at your beck and call full time. She is even moving into the maid quarters for the week.”

“Oh? Really?” Lisa was feeling a bit confused and a little guilty. “But mom, I don’t want to do that to dad. Isn’t that just a little mean?”

“Lisa darling, don’t worry about Maggie. Long, long ago she and I agreed to our lifestyle. She has no problems at all with our arrangement. Relax Lisa, your father likes his situation and wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“No kidding mom? I mean sometimes I wonder if you don’t … take advantage of dad.”

“Lisa, we need to talk about this when you get home. This is going to be critical in your transformation of Samantha. First, let me calm your concerns about your father. Your father had to be one of the easiest transformations of all time. He came into our relationship all macho and stupid, but he quickly decided to embrace his feminine side. At times I couldn’t hold him back. Your father dear, was born to be a submissive and he discovered it very early in our relationship. He is very comfortable with that role and after he discovered that he set the pace more than me.

“But concerning boys in general, if Sam is dead-set against you, you won’t be able to feminize him. He has to want this. The problem is most men don’t know what they want. Their entire sense of worth and their future dreams are manufactured by Hollywood and ESPN. That’s where you come in, you have to help him see where he wants to be, and what he wants to become. You have to guide him to where you want him, and all the while he has to think it his idea.”

“Mom, I really want a pretty and feminine husband. I want to go to the salon with him and get our hair styled together. I want him to have a tiny waist and big boobs and I want everyone to stare at him when we go out on the town. I want him to think, act and look like a gorgeous woman, but most importantly I want him to worship me as his superior female.

“And as much as I want all of that, and as much as I am looking forward to transforming him, I worry that I may not be successful.” And in a quieter voice she added, “And I worry that maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Shush, my little girl. Don’t you worry about any of those things. It’s natural for anyone to have some self-doubt when starting out on a grand adventure. That’s why we need to talk more. Don’t worry dear, with grandmother’s and my help you can’t possibly fail. And as for Samantha, he either wants it or he doesn’t. There is no reason to feel guilty for something he chooses, because in the end, he will have to make his own decisions.”

“Thanks mom.”

Later that same day Mona called Lisa again. “Dear, your room is now wired for sound and visual. So is Harriet’s old room”

“Will he be able to tell?”

“Not a chance. I brought in an expert that we use at work. He’s the best.”

“Will I be able to see too?”

“What do you mean? Of course you will be able to watch,” Mona assured her daughter.

“In the guest room? Can I watch in the guest room?”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. We ran the lines down to my study. I’m not sure that’s a good idea though.”

“Why not?” a slightly disgruntled Lisa asked. “He is my boyfriend mother,” she said in a slightly warning type of voice. A warning like, “I’m about to blow up with all of your interference and disregard for me.”

“Well darling, I’m sure the two of you are going to want to indulge in a little physical activity.”

“I am not having unplanned sex!” Lisa quickly blurted out.

“Oh I know that,” Mona shot back. “I mean the two of you do kiss and pet a little. You must. Everyone does.” Lisa said nothing. “So unless you want Maggie and me watching you, you’re going to have to do that in your guest room.”

“So?”

“So? So he might see your monitors or hear your speakers. I think it is too dangerous.”

“I don’t care. When I send him to bed, I don’t want to have to come all the way down to your study to see what he is wearing. And what if he has a question and comes down to the guest room looking for me and I’m not there? He’ll get suspicious.”

“I’m not sure,” Mona said warily.

“Mom, I insist. Tell your tech to figure out a way I can totally and quickly kill the picture and sound if Sam comes knocking on my door.”

“But you also have to make sure that he doesn’t recognize anything even when it is turned off.”

“Well I’m sure your expert can come up with something.”

“Ok dear, I’ll see what we can do.”

“Thanks mom.”

The next day they were on the phone again. “Mom, did you get my clothing list.”

“I certainly did dear. Your grandmother wants to go shopping with me to pick up everything.”

“What do you think of my choices?” Lisa was still a little unsure of her ability to make the best decisions.

“They’re just fine dear. I think he will particularly enjoy his pajamas and lingerie.”

Lisa sighed. “Was silk the right choice? Are the pajamas frilly enough?”

“They’re perfect dear. Don’t fret your little head about a thing. Just make sure that you distract him when you get in the car Friday. You don’t want him to notice that you left his luggage behind. You know how to do that don’t you dear? How to distract him?” Mona gave her daughter a little giggle when she asked the question.

Lisa giggled without having to respond. Mother and daughter were on the same wavelength. Lisa then turned a bit more serious, “Mom, the other day you said that in the end Sam will have to make his own decisions. What if he ... doesn’t want to? What if he makes the wrong decision?”

“Lisa darling, you don’t let him make the wrong decision. You have to be smarter than him, which really shouldn’t be a problem for you, not with grandmother’s and my help.”

Lisa felt a bit better. “Really?” she asked hopefully.

“But of course. If you plan carefully, every time he needs to make a decision the outcome will be preordained. You work in baby steps to manipulate him where you want him. You don’t ask him to jump into a wedding dress immediately. You put him in silky pajamas and panties first. You smother him in feminine surroundings and keep him away from anything even remotely masculine. You inundate him with the pleasures of soft clothing and fragrances and you keep him in female company and society continuously. He must forget what it is like to be one of the boys.”

“Mom, what about sex?”

“That is your most powerful weapon, Lisa. His blood is boiling with hormones at your age, and they make it much easier to control him. But sex is tricky; too much too soon and he becomes satisfied. If he is satisfied enough he may even decide that he can go somewhere else to get it. We’ll talk about sex again. Your grandmother taught me how to use it, and I must say, she was right about almost everything.”

“Thanks mom. I’m really looking forward to Friday.”

“Me too dear. Me too.”

CHAPTER 4

Lisa and Sam were sitting on the steps outside Lisa’s sorority house. Their luggage was stacked up next to the curb and they were texting each other obnoxious little love notes while they watched for Maggie. They would groan at stupid puns and giggle at some items that would have made their parents blush a bright red.

Lisa had made sure to push Sam’s duffel to the back against some bushes. From the drive they wouldn’t be able to see it sitting there. In short order a large Mercedes sedan drove up the circular drive and parked in front of them. Sam watched as the chauffeur opened the door and began walking towards them. The chauffeur was a tall woman, very thin, almost skinny, and relatively attractive for a forty something. She stood almost 5 foot 8 or 9 inches tall, but in riding boots she looked to be almost 6 feet tall. She had an attractive face and was wearing a bit more make-up than usual. Her auburn hair was pulled back and braided into a thick ponytail.

Lisa jumped off the steps and ran over to greet the chauffeur with a hug. “Hi Maggie. I’d like to introduce you to Sam Springer. Sam this is Maggie.”

Sam reached for her hand and noticed the neatly manicured nails with an elaborate design painted on them. He also inhaled her fragrant and enticing perfume. The perfume had a spicy edge to it that Sam really liked. Maggie surprised Sam with her firm handshake. “Pleased to meet you Sam,” she said in a very professional manner. Maggie walked over to the rear door and held it open for them. “You two jump in and I’ll handle the luggage.”

Lisa grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him into the rear seat of the luxurious automobile. Lisa kept hold of his arm and they leaned against each other and kissed as the trunk lid popped up and hid Maggie from their sight. “This is going to be so much fun, Sam,” Lisa said as she laid her head on Sam’s shoulder and hugged his arm. I can’t wait to get you home and introduce you to everyone.”

Sam was inherently a shy boy, and he wasn’t so excited about meeting Lisa’s family. Sam made a soft groan to show Lisa his apprehension. “Oh don’t worry Sam. None of them bite — at least that I know of,” she grinned. “And not everyone will be there. Father is off working and my sister is away at school. Her spring break is next week.”

“Where does she go to school?” Sam asked.

“It’s a small private school for special girls. You’ve never heard of it, I’m sure.”

Maggie slammed the trunk lid shut and walked up to her car door. She entered the car and turned around to face the kids, “All set Lisa?”

Lisa gave her a big smile and said “Yep. Let’s go home Maggie.”

The ride home took 3 hours and the 2 kids fell asleep for a large portion of it. When they exited the interstate, they both woke up and silently watched the drive through town. Sam was impressed with Lisa’s neighborhood. The houses were huge mansions, partially hidden behind large shrubs and long curving drives. Many even had black iron fencing around them. The closer they got to Lisa’s home, the larger the houses appeared.

Finally, Maggie turned onto a cul-de sac and the biggest house of the neighborhood was at the end. There were no other houses on this street, and huge trees, shrubs and a stone wall bordered the road as they drove up to the 3 story mansion. When Maggie pulled into the driveway, Sam could get a much better appreciation for the property and mansion. Simply put, it was huge. It was elegant and it certainly looked like old-money. There were multiple chimneys sprouting from the roof line, and each chimney was topped off with elaborate chimney pots. The roof line had more angles, peaks and dormers than you could count. And there were several green weather vanes located along the very highest peaks. The roof itself looked 3-dimensional, as if the shingles were slate or maybe even wood.

The house was Tudor style with brown brick going up to the highest peaks. Brown timbers were interspersed in the brick to give the look of timber framing. Or maybe it was timber-framed. Sam couldn’t tell for sure. The house had to have over a dozen bedrooms, Sam thought. The front of the house had at least 20 windows on the second and third floors, and 3 small balconies jutted out for just a few feet in front of double glass doors.

Sam turned to Lisa, and with a big grin on his face he said, “Nice shack.”

Lisa returned his grin, “It’ll do.”

Maggie pulled up in front of a wide walk leading to the front door. Sam moved to open the door but Lisa grabbed his hand. “Wait for Maggie, it is the proper way to exit the car.” Maggie walked around the car and opened the door for the two of them. Lisa and then Sam stepped out and Maggie said, “Please go inside, I’ll handle your luggage.”

Lisa gave Maggie another hug and then turned to Sam and took his hand. Sam was feeling intimidated. The walk up to the front door was made of stone and there wasn’t a single bit of moss or grass growing between the large stone slabs. The front door was almost ten feet tall, arched with a double door that looked solid enough to hold off an army. As they walked up to the door, hand in hand, Sam quietly asked, “Lisa, can I ask a rather impolite question?”

“Ok.”

“Was I supposed to give Maggie a hug, also?”

Lisa started giggling. “No, you are not supposed to hug the help. It’s just that Maggie is rather special so I always give her a hug. You won’t have to hug her or any of the other servants.”

“Thanks, because this is all over my head and I don’t know all the upper society rules. Why didn’t you tell me you had this much money?” he asked.

“Because I didn’t want you to think me pretentious.”

“Well I never would have guessed. And neither would any of the kids at school.”

“Good, because that’s the way I want it,” she said to Sam. “I want people to underestimate me,” she thought to herself. “That’s the way mom taught me.”

Just as they reached the doors, one of them opened. The two of them stepped inside and Sam saw a large black man, dressed in a coat with tails, holding the door for them. “Welcome home Miss Lisa,” he said with a deep booming voice and a large genuine smile.

“Thank you Chas, it is always nice to come home.”

“Your mother is waiting for you in the front sitting room, ma’am.”

Still holding Sam’s hand she led him into a large hall while Chas closed the door and walked off in the other direction. Sam stopped in the middle of the hall and turned around as he took in the obvious display of wealth. The floor was carrera marble and reflected all of the lights around the room. Above the door was a stained glass window portraying a fire breathing dragon. The ceiling went up three floors and a huge black iron and glass chandelier hung down from the peak. The chain links looked huge. Sam couldn’t even guess as to what the chandelier might weigh.

Around the hall were numerous small tables with a statue or vase sitting on it. Several feet above each table a light was hanging from the wall and directed onto the art piece. “You don’t do that for Walmart knick-knacks,” Sam thought. Two sets of stairs made with large marble spindles led off in opposite directions. Three doorways led off the entrance hall. One had doors but the other two opened into long hallways.

Lisa allowed Sam to turn around and gaze at the magnificence before them. Lisa fully understood that this entrance hall was designed to accomplish exactly what was happening with Sam. Visitors were supposed to be intimated and overwhelmed with the money and taste of the Hawthorne Family. It was a tremendous home field advantage.

After several moments, Lisa again took Sam’s hand with hers, and led him down the first hallway. A short distance down the hall, Lisa turned them into a room facing the front of the house. Sam was surprised at how small the room was. Not that it was tiny, but up until now everything had been built on such a grand scale. The room had wainscoting around the inside walls, with a rose pattern wallpaper above it. Sconces hung from the wall between large, oversize paintings of old people, mostly women. Probably ancestors Sam thought.

The front of the room had a large bay window with potted plants sitting on the floor in front of the windows, and a small wooden table sitting in the middle of the bay. And around the room were five high, wing backed chairs, each with a small table beside each chair. A sixth chair was much smaller and had no table. In 3 of the chairs sat elegantly dressed women. Each of the women had her hair in a different type of up style. They were wearing long sleeved dresses; one yellow, one white and one a rose color. The styles were all very similar and made Sam think of 19th century Southern aristocracy. The dresses had high collars which precluded necklaces, but each woman was wearing dangling earrings, and multiple rings on her hand. There was no deficit of expensive looking jewelry.

And most disconcertingly, each woman was staring directly at Sam, as if measuring his very worth; which is exactly what they were doing. And to be even more exact, they were looking at his dimensions; height, weight, chest, waist, hips, wrists, hands, nose, cheek bones and even his lips. They studied his complexion and the color of his hair and eyes. They were looking at his hairline, the curve of his jaw and neck and the set of his shoulders. In their minds, all 3 women were dressing him in bras, corsets and heels. They were imagining what color lipstick would go with which shade of eyeliner to best enhance his complexion and facial features. Two of the women wistfully wondered about his loins and buttocks, while the third was more interested in his lips. But all 3 must have approved of what they saw, because they each gave Lisa a large smile.

Lisa led Sam over to the first chair and introduced him. “Sam, this is my grandmother Miss Grace Hawthorne.” Miss Hawthorne remained seated and offered her hand to Sam.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, young Sam,” she said with a sweet smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you also,” Sam returned.

Lisa took Sam to the next chair, “Sam this is Miss Eunice Hawthorne.” Miss Eunice Hawthorne also remained seated as she surprised Sam with her firm handshake. Her hand was considerably bigger than the very petite hand that Grace had offered him. Sam also noticed that both Eunice and Grace had neatly manicured nails, and both were wearing the same mauve nail polish color.

And finally, Lisa led Sam to the most beautiful of the 3 older women — at least Sam thought so. “Sam, this is my mother Miss Mona Hawthorne.”

Mona remained seated while she shook hands with Sam. “Sam, that is such a pretty name. Please take a seat,” she said. Again, for some strange reason, Sam noticed her fingers. They were manicured just like Maggie’s had been.

Lisa led Sam to the smallest chair, and then seated herself next to her grandmother. Sam’s chair was smaller than the others, so he found himself looking up to the women. Lisa’s mother and grandmother were seated directly across from Sam, so that they could continue studying him. The unwitting fly was now in the spider’s web.

“Welcome to our home,” Mona said. “Make yourself comfortable and do ask for anything you might need. Lisa and Maggie will take good care of you, I’m sure. So tell us a little about yourself, dear. Where are you from?”

And thus began the grilling of Sam. Mona and Grace were very polite in their questions, but they were persistent in finding out everything they could about Sam’s life and history. Sam was being measured. Their psychological probing was subtle but well practiced. Half way through the interrogation, Maggie entered carrying a large silver tray. She set the tray on the small table in the bay window. Maggie was no longer dressed in her chauffeur uniform, but was wearing a frilly maid uniform in black and white.

She began filling tea cups and handing them to the women, after serving Sam first. Maggie then offered sugar on another elegant silver tray, and finally she passed around chocolate wafers. After she was finished, Maggie took the remaining seat next to Mona.

“How nice,” Grace said. “Here we are all together. What a lovely day outside and such a lovely group inside. Maggie, Mona tells me that you have a delicious dinner planned for us, but she wouldn’t say what you are preparing. Is it a secret?”

Maggie grinned and answered cryptically, “If Miss Mona says it is a secret, who am I to spill the beans?”

Grace laughed politely and returned her gaze towards Sam. Sam’s grilling lasted for another 30 minutes, until the women had discovered all they needed to know. “Enough of this,” Mona announced. “I am sure the kids have had a long drive back from school and they would appreciate a little down time. And I am sure Maggie has some work to do in the kitchen.”

Mona stood and motioned Sam and Lisa up. “Lisa will you please show Sam to his room and then maybe Sam would like a tour of the grounds.”

Lisa held her hand out to Sam, “Come along Sam, let’s go see the house.”

As Lisa led Sam from the room, Mona took her seat so the 4 women could talk some more. “Well?” Mona asked the group of women.

“He passes,” Miss Grace began. “I don’t think he could reach 5’10 in 4 inch heels. He’s a bit on the plump side, but that extra weight can easily be removed. I hope it doesn’t thin his face too much, but alas, it usually does. All in all, he could potentially challenge Gisela for beauty.”

“I would have to see a little more of him before I judged him in the same ballpark as Gisela,” Mona added. All 4 girls laughed at Mona’s inside joke.

“I think he passes psychologically,” Miss Eunice said. “Lisa says he did well on his movie and book tests. He had no father to instill silly macho ideals in his psyche. He misses his mother and I think he is ripe for some female guidance and leadership. He is begging for female companionship and I think that will allow him to be easily dominated by a girl. Throw in a little sex and he will roll over like a puppy.”

“I agree,” Maggie added. “I already see several questionable if not yet fully effeminate mannerisms in how he sits and moves. He is no athlete and he seems to be more interested in grace and style than in power. I see a strong beginning of epicene characteristics in his eyes, hairline, and shoulders. He unwittingly sits on one hip like a sissy might. And he makes eye contact. I like that in a boy.”

“Then it’s agreed?” Mona asked. Everyone nodded yes.

CHAPTER 5

Sam was extremely thankful for the end of the tea party. He didn’t think he had ever been so nervous. Nor could he think of a tougher interview in his life. “Did I pass?” he whispered to Lisa.

Lisa gave him a squeeze on his hand and flashed a warm smile. “With flying colors. I should have warned you, but I was afraid that would have made you even more nervous. Mom and grandma still cling to the old ways. They cover their intrusiveness with the politeness of custom and manners, but they do demand their right of approval. It’s not just boyfriends, but everything to do with the family. But in the end they mean well. You’ll see.”

“Whew, I’m glad it’s over,” Sam said.

Lisa giggled a bit, “With grandmother and mom it’s never over. But the worst is behind you. So don’t worry, they loved you, and now let’s forget about it. I’ll show you the house.”

“You mean the mansion, don’t you?”

“Yea, I guess so. And the grounds outside too. Come on,” and she pulled him down the hall, back the way they had entered.

Lisa began the tour on the first floor, finished with the kitchen and walked past the maid’s quarters in the back. “That’s where Maggie lives,” Lisa pointed out. “If there is anything you need, and I mean anything, come see Maggie. She’ll take great care of you.”

Then Lisa pulled Sam out a small back door and into the back gardens. They walked by the heated Olympic size pool, through the pool house and down the hill to the barn. “You’ve never ridden have you?” Sam gave a little shake of the head to signify no. “I love riding,” she said. “We will go riding this week and I’m sure you are going to love it. Come on, I’ll introduce you to my Cinnamon, and then we’ll see who Jennifer is going to give to you. Probably Abigail.”

When they reached the barn, they went straight to Lisa’s horse, Cinnamon. They went in the stall and Lisa introduced the two of them before she slid up on Cinnamon’s bare back. “I love her,” Lisa admitted as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Cinnamon’s neck. “She’s the best horse ever.”

“And Cinnamon loves you to,” a voice from outside the stall said. The voice had an Irish lilt to it. “She’s missed you Lisa. She mopes around when she doesn’t see you on a daily basis.”

Lisa slid off Cinnamon and led Sam out of the stall. “And I mope when I don’t get to ride her,” Lisa said to the red haired girl in cover-alls. “Jennifer, I’d like you to meet Sam. Jennifer takes wonderful care of our 4 legged friends,” Lisa said to Sam. Sam and Jennifer shook hands, and Sam could smell the aroma of animals on Jennifer.

“So who does Sam get to ride?”

Jennifer motioned to the two of them and walked them down a couple of stalls. “Sam, you’ve never ridden before?”

“Afraid not.”

“Abigail will be a great starter for you. She seems to love boys. She doesn’t see too many, so I am sure she will take a great liking to you.”

Lisa smiled. “If that’s the case, she’ll only love you for a short while,” she thought to herself.

Maggie was carrying a tray of sliced carrots and celery when she came to Mona’s study. Mona, Grace and Eunice were sitting behind Mona’s desk chatting idly. “Where are the kids now?” Grace asked Maggie.

“The last update had them leaving the barn and heading this way,” she said as she set down the tray.

“Well it’s about time,” Grace said with a slight growl in her voice. “I’m getting anxious to see how he handles his first hurdle.”

“Patience mother,” Mona said. “Maggie, you better get back to the kitchen. Lisa will be calling shortly.

“Yes ma’am,” and Maggie headed back to the kitchen.

Lisa and Sam finished their tour of the grounds and returned to the house through the kitchen. Maggie was instructing a young girl in a maid’s dress on the best way to fillet a fish. “Hi Maggie,” Lisa yelled as they left the kitchen on their way upstairs. Maggie quickly called the study and informed the women about Lisa’s progress. The women scooted closer to the video monitors.

Lisa led Sam down the hall, pointing out her sister’s room and a couple of the numerous guest rooms. “Here is where I’ll be staying,” she said as she led Sam into the guest room. They did a quick look around and continued down the hall. “You will be staying in my room.”

“I can’t do that,” Sam complained. “Let me take a guest room. This is your home you should be sleeping in your own bed.”

“Not to worry, all of the beds in this house are very comfortable. And besides, you’re a VIP. I want to put the VIP in the best accommodations possible. That means my room. Come on let me show you.”

Lisa’s room was typical of the manor. First off, it was huge. Not only was the bedroom large, but there was an attached bath, a sitting room with a large screen HDTV, and it also had one of the balconies that Sam had noticed earlier. “Wow,” was the first thing he said. He looked at the huge king size bed with a canopy over it. The wood looked old — very old. He was sure that the bed was an antique. The canopy and spread were both a soft, pastel pink — very feminine he thought. The bed was covered with stuffed animals. A veritable zoo he imagined.

Spread around the room was a desk, a vanity with an old fashioned oval mirror above it, and not one, not two but three dressers. Plus a floor to ceiling armoire. And they all had the same wood and style as the bed. The only think that didn’t match was a cedar chest at the foot of her bed.

In her sitting room, along with the large screen HDTV was a piano. “Do you play the piano, too?” he asked. Lisa answered with a humble little murmur.

Sam was totally knocked out by the bath. It was as big as his dorm room. It had a walk-in shower that was so big it didn’t need a door on it. The tub was actually a whirlpool. And the sink was 10 feet long with two bowls set in a marble counter top. Even the floor was made of marble. And behind the counter was a mirror that went all the way to the ceiling and it also was 10 feet long. With the toilet there was also a bidet. And by both the tub and shower were heated towel racks that turned on when the lights came on.

Sam tried to downplay his amazement. “I’m going to have to stay here?” he said in his most dismissive voice. “It’s a little … rough, isn’t it?” Lisa grinned and grabbed him in a hug. They looked into each others eyes and their lips were slowly pulled towards one another. They stood in the middle of the bathroom and kissed passionately. Sam’s hands began to slowly slide down Lisa’s back and reach for her butt. He dug his fingers into her firm ass as he pulled her tighter into himself. The women in the study were able to clearly see him push his crotch tightly against Lisa’s.

“The masher!” Grace exclaimed in mock disgust. Eunice and Mona broke out laughing.

Lisa broke their embrace and prepared to play her part for the audience. “Let me show you where you can put your clothes.” She led Sam back into the bedroom and over to a closet door. She opened the door and said, “You can keep your things in here.” Then she walked over to one of her dressers and pulled open the lower drawer. It was empty. “And you can put your undies and things in here.”

“Where is my stuff?” he asked.

“Right over there,” and she nonchalantly pointed to a spot next to the door where her luggage was sitting.

“I don’t see it,” he said, as he walked over to take a closer look. After a careful check he turned to Lisa, “It’s not here.”

“I’m sure it is. It has to be. Maggie said she put everything in my room.”

“Maybe she accidentally left it in the car,” Sam suggested. “Can we go look?”

“No need,” Lisa answered as she picked up an old-fashioned telephone from her nightstand. She turned the dial twice and waited for an answer. “Hi Maggie. Sam’s bag isn’t here. Did you leave it in the car?” She listened for a moment and then hung up. “She’s going out to the car to check. She’ll be right back.”

Lisa sat down on her bed and pushed a few stuffed animals out of the way. She patted the bed next to her, inviting Sam over for a bit more kissing. As Sam reached the bed, Lisa laid back and let Sam climb on top of her. Sam again pressed his crotch against Lisa as they began kissing. The groping didn’t last long before the phone rang.

Lisa answered the phone and responded with a few grunts before she hung up. “Maggie searched the car and says it isn’t there. And she says the only bags she brought up to the room were mine. She thought maybe you were using one of my duffels.”

“Then where is it?” Sam asked, with just a hint of panic seeping into his voice.

“Let me call back to school and see if we left it behind.” Lisa used another old fashioned telephone on her desk as Sam looked on. “Hi Constance, Lisa here. Can you do me a favor? Check the front steps and see if there is a duffel sitting there. Probably on the right hand side. That’s where we were waiting. Oh, we just got home and we’re looking for Sam’s bag, we can’t find it anywhere. Yea, we’re hoping that we left it there. I don’t know where else it could be.”

Sam listened to Lisa’s side of the conversation as Constance walked outside to look for the bag. Sam started wondering what he would do if the bag wasn’t there. Then an even more alarming thought popped into his head — what if it was there? What would he do here?

Constance didn’t take long to make her way outside. “Oh it is? That’s great Constance. Do me a favor, put it in my room, please? Thanks a million,” and she hung up. “It’s back at school,” Lisa passed along. “Constance is going to put it in my room. So you’re all set,” she announced.

“Not exactly,” Sam rebutted. “What am I going to do for another week?”

Lisa played her part and acted surprised. “Oh yea. Well … uhm …” and she stalled for time.

“Can we run out shopping?” Sam asked.

“Why not?” Lisa answered sprightly. “Let me see when Maggie can take us out.” Lisa went back to her night stand and called Maggie. “Maggie, Sam left his duffel at school, can we go shopping?” She listened for the better part of a minute before she hung up.

“Well?”

“The answer is not tonight. She’s in the middle of dinner and she can’t leave. By the time we’re done with dinner, the stores will be closed. You’ll just have to make do, she said. So let’s see what I have for you to use,” Maggie said cheerily as she started pulling open drawers.

“Don’t go to any trouble for me. I’ll just wear what I have on for tonight,” Sam said.

“I’m sure that you want to clean up before we go to dinner. And mom likes us to dress for guests. In fact she is kind of a stickler for it. So you can’t put on your old clothes. Let’s just look to see what we have.”

Lisa went into one of her drawers and pulled out a new package of Victoria’s Secret blue silk panties and tossed them to Sam. “Those are one size bigger than I normally wear, so they should fit you fine.” Sam caught the package and looked at it in alarm. Lisa turned back to her drawers and pulled out a package of new knee high socks. “Here you go,” and she tossed them to Sam.

Sam wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew he was in a bind. Those women had intimidated him enough earlier that he didn’t want to show up for dinner in dirty clothes. On the other hand, he didn’t want them to know that he was wearing girl’s panties. “That’s ok,” he began. “I don’t need these,” and he tossed them on the bed.

Lisa didn’t act the slightest bit flustered. “Yes you do,” she told him. “Don’t worry, it’s no big deal. If you stretch them out you can keep them.” She turned towards one of her large walk-in closets and muttered, “A nice top for dinner, a nice top for dinner,” she kept muttering as Sam stood outside the closet door and watched Lisa pawing through tons of hanging clothes. His face was white and his knees were shaking, but he didn’t know what to say.

Lisa pulled a long-sleeve, paisley blue top off the closet rack and showed it to Sam. It had a peter pan collar and buttons down the front, but on the opposite side of a man’s shirt. “What do you think?” she asked as she held it front of her.

“Not my first choice,” he grinned.

“Well it’s this or a sweater. I can’t find anything less feminine in here, and a sweater is going to be hot. And you’re not going to wear that T-shirt. Mom will crucify me — and then maybe you.

Sam continued grinning and relented, “Then it will have to do, I guess.”

“Good choice,” and Lisa handed him the blouse. “Now, trousers. “Would you consider wearing a skirt?” Lisa asked in dead earnestness.

“It wouldn’t be my first choice,” Sam answered.

“Well the problem is I don’t have much in the way of trousers. I have jodhpurs, but those are for riding. And I don’t really have any dress suits with slacks. All of mine have skirts. I’ve got jeans, but again, mom will not be happy. And that’s about all I have. Are you sure you won’t wear a skirt,” she asked with a smile.

This was the first tough choice planned by the women. They didn’t really expect him to accept a skirt, but if he did they knew their job was already finished. And even if he didn’t accept the skirt offer, it didn’t concern them all that much. It was simply an early test to see if they could convert him quickly.

“I hate to upset your mother, but I really don’t want to wear a skirt. How much trouble will I be in if I wear these jeans?” He meant his own.

“Mom will probably toss you out for ever,” Lisa said with a small smirk. “Listen, if you’re going to wear jeans, make them as clean and new as possible. You’ll just have to wear a pair of mine.” Lisa looked through her jean collection and found the new pair that Mona and Grace had bought for Sam. They were Liz Claiborne, hip-huggers with no pockets and sized to fit Sam very snugly.

“Is everything you own brand new?” Sam asked as he accepted the jeans.

“Well we can afford it,” Lisa answered unapologetically. “Last, you will not wear sneakers. In all seriousness, mom will blow a gasket over sneakers at the dinner table. I have a pair of shoes that you can wear.” Lisa handed him a pair of black shoes with a brass buckle on the top and 2 inch heels. “These will have to do,” she said as she handed the pair to Sam.

“Ok, that does it I guess. Why don’t you go take a shower and dress. I’ll be back in about an hour. Ok?” Lisa gave Sam a peck on the cheek and left for her guest room and her monitors.

Sam sat down on the bed and looked around the room. He picked up the bag of panties that he had tossed on the bed and began squeezing and playing with them. With a big sigh he ripped the package open and said in a small voice, “I guess I have no choice.”

The women watching the monitor all smiled. The continued watching as Sam stripped down and prepared for a shower. “He’s not exactly well endowed,” Mona said as she looked at his penis. Maggie and Eunice scowled, and Grace quickly reprimanded her, “It’s not the size that counts. And he has nice skin.”

Sam walked into the shower and adjusted the water temperature. The shower was a wrap around maze of plumbing that squirted out water from all sides and from floor to ceiling. Each set of nozzles was adjustable and he could set the spray from harsh to soft. Sam left the nozzles as they were and enjoyed the novel sensation of a surround shower. He found Lisa’s shampoos and soaps, but they were all very flowery. He decided to forgo the perfumed lotions, and used a wash cloth to wipe himself down.

Stepping out of the shower he pulled the towel off the warming rack and wrapped it around him. “Wow! I could get to like this,” he said aloud. The women smiled once more.

Sam finished drying himself then walked out into the bedroom and approached the bed. “Here we go,” Lisa muttered as she watched Sam on her monitor. Sam took out a pair of blue silk panties and held them in his hand. They were silk and especially soft. Sam turned towards the hidden camera as he rubbed the panties against his chest to feel their smoothness. As he did so, Lisa could see his penis begin to grow. A smile began spreading across her face, as she watched Sam slide first one foot and then the other into his new panties. He began pulling the panties up his legs and as he stood all of the women could see he had a full size erection.

“Bingo!” Mona exclaimed. “He’s ours,” she said as she stood and embraced Maggie in a big hug. They kissed and hugged, while Grace and Eunice smiled at one another.

“He’s going to be beautiful,” Grace said with the glint of a tear in her eye. “I wonder how Lisa is taking this?”

Lisa was jumping up and down on her bed and singing, “Pretty boy, sissy boy. Pretty boy, sissy boy. Pretty boy, sissy boy, and he’s all mine.”

Lisa knocked on the door to her bedroom before she opened it a crack and called in, “Can I come in?”

“Yea,” Sam called back as he looked at himself in the full length mirror. “I look like a fag,” he thought to himself. He turned to face Lisa and model his evening outfit.

Lisa was truly happy with how he looked and she expressed it to him. “You look nice, Sam. Everything fits you just great. How are the shoes?” She couldn’t tell him what he really looked like. His tight jeans and paisley blue shirt made him look like a teenage girl from the neck down. Even his facial structure had a slight feminine shape to it. But his hair would need some work.

“They’re ok, but these jeans are really tight,” he said as he slid his fingers into the waist band and tried to stretch it out.

“They’re all we have,” Lisa apologized. “But I think they look just fine,” and she gave him a hug and kiss. As she broke their hug she sniffed and asked, “Did you use any deodorant?”

“I don’t have any,” he reminded her.

“Oh yea.” She ran into the bath and opened one of the cupboards under the sink. She brought over a brand new package and handed it to him. “Here, please use this.”

“Its powder fresh scent,” Sam noticed. “It’s going to make me smell like a girl.”

“No it won’t,” Lisa protested. “It merely covers up odors. And besides, you’re wearing one of my favorite blouses, so I would appreciate you taking care of it. Please?” she asked.

Sam relented, of course. He opened the package, unbuttoned the top three buttons and quickly brushed it on. Lisa re-buttoned his blouse for him and then took a deep breath through her nose and smiled. “Thank you,” she said with a kiss. “Let’s go to dinner.”

Hand in hand Lisa led Sam down the stairs and into another small room adjacent to the dining room. On cue, Maggie followed them into the room with a tray of canapés in her hand. Mona had been talking to Grace, but when she sensed the three of them enter the room she turned to greet them. Her eyes fell on Sam and she just stopped dead in her tracks. She glared at Sam and forced him to stop dead in his tracks.

“Nice shoes,” she said coldly. “Jeans?” she asked in voice dripping with malice.

Maggie took her cue, “It’s my fault madam. I inadvertently left his clothes at school.”

Then Lisa jumped in, “They were all I could find that would fit him.”

“You could have at least gone to your sister’s room and collected a pair of nice dress slacks from one of her business suits.” Mona was not happy and she was showing it. “Lisa come here a second please,” and she waved Lisa to her side.

Mona faced away from Sam while Lisa faced him as they began their discussion. Sam could see that they were having a rather heated discussion, even though they were whispering. Finally, Lisa said loudly, “I will not,” and returned to Sam’s side.

“Fine,” Mona said to her. “I’ll have Maggie handle it,” and she called Maggie over to her.

Maggie politely listened to Mona, and then walked over to Sam. In an embarrassed voice she asked, “Would you please come with me?” She walked Sam out of the room and down the corridor to a bathroom. “Please,” Maggie asked as she held the door for Sam to enter. They both walked in and Maggie closed the door behind them.

“Young Sam, I am really sorry about this,” she began. “I dearly love Mona, but there are times when she is a real witch, and I mean that with a capital B.” Sam was totally confused and just looked at Maggie. “Do you know how to tuck?”

“I have no clue what that means,” a perplexed Sam answered.

“There is no reason you should know,” Maggie commiserated. “In a way, you should take this as a compliment, young Sam.”

“What?”

“Mona believes that you are well endowed.” Sam’s face began turning pink. “Mona is mad more at Lisa than you, but you are wearing the jeans.” Sam gave her another puzzling look while his cheeks turned a darker pink. “You have a bulge in your jeans and Mona would like you to eliminate it.”

“Huh,” and his cheeks now began turning red.

“I apologize for this Sam, but Mona instructed me to tuck you. She wants you to tuck your penis and testicles between your legs so that you don’t bulge in front.” Sam was stupefied. “I know you don’t know how to tuck, so I will show you. Please turn around.”

Sam was too shocked to refuse. His cheeks were starting to burn with embarrassment. He turned and faced the mirror.

“I will do it for you, so that you see how.” Maggie stood behind Sam and reached around to his front and undid his belt, unbuttoned the jeans and pulled down the zipper. She slid the jeans down to his knees and looked in the mirror to see just the tiniest bulge in his panties. Obviously he was embarrassed to the point of extreme shrinkage. “This is not going to hurt, but it is going to feel awkward. Please relax and just stand here,” Maggie said as she tried to calm the young boy. She again reached around Sam’s waist and slipped her hands into his panties. Sam wanted to jump through the ceiling, but he was too shocked and embarrassed to move a muscle. Maggie took his scrotum in her hands and slowly squeezed his testicles up into his body.

Sam was startled and jumped just a little when it happened. “Don’t worry, this doesn’t hurt or damage anything. It is a trick used by male dancers. Now with your testicles slid into their cavity, squat just a bit for me.” Sam did as instructed. “Now I am going to push your penis and scrotum down and between your legs. The farther we can tuck them, the more comfortable it will be for you. Do you understand?”

“Uh huh,” was all that Sam could muster.

Maggie tucked his penis tightly between his legs and then instructed him, “Stand up and squeeze your thighs together.” Sam did so and trapped Maggie’s hand between his thighs. She gently pulled her hand from between his thighs, leaving Sam’s penis tucked tightly between his legs. “Now, pull your panties up tightly without letting up on your thighs. Sam pulled his panties as high and tight as he could.

“Excellent,” Maggie said encouragingly. “Keep your thighs together and pull up your pants and fasten them. Sam did as he was told. “Look in the mirror,” Maggie instructed. “She how smooth your front is?” With the hottest and reddest cheeks imaginable Sam nodded yes.

“There,” Maggie said cheerily. “Now you know how to tuck.”

Sam turned to face her and there was just the twinkle of a tear in each eye. Maggie held him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. She gave him her warmest smile and said, “Sam, I know this is embarrassing. But don’t let Mona defeat you. She is one of the best manipulators in the world! And she likes to use it just to prove who the boss is. Don’t let her defeat you. She’s being mean and she knows it. But if you let her see that she can win, that she can defeat you, she will never respect you. This is her way of testing you. Go back in that room with your head up, be syrupy nice to her and then ignore her. Trust me, it’s the only way to gain her respect and stop her from doing this again. Ok?”

Sam gave a small sniff and shook his head. His cheeks were still burning and bright red, but he stood straight, shook his shoulders and looked at Maggie. He took a deep breath and said, “Thanks Maggie. Let’s go.”

Maggie gave him her best smile and led him back to the group. At first, Sam felt a bit awkward walking back. He wasn’t used to feeling his penis wedged between his legs and it felt cramped and sweaty. It didn’t hurt, and his tight panties and jeans held everything exactly where Maggie had placed them. But he did notice his steps were a bit shorter and his hips wiggled a bit more. Oddly enough, he was used to the sensation by the time they entered the room.

When they reached the entrance, Sam saw Lisa take one step towards him before her grandmother stopped her. Grace placed a hand on Lisa’s shoulder and told her to wait. Grace walked over to Sam and took his arm in hers and said, “Let’s walk.” Grace turned him around and led him down the hall. They said nothing as their heels clicked on the hard marble floor as they walked towards the front entrance. When they reached the empty hall, Grace continued walking and looking straight ahead as she said, “Sam, I liked you from the moment I first saw you.”

They stopped in the middle of the huge foyer and Grace turned to Sam. “You won’t be getting an apology from Mona. She doesn’t do apologies, but I do. She was totally wrong to do what she did. And trust me, I told her so. As I said, I like you and I know Lisa likes you. That’s all you need. If you ever have another problem with Mona, you come see me. Between you and me, we will settle these unfortunate situations with Mona. You understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sam answered respectively.

“When we’re alone, I’d appreciate it if you would call me Miss Grace. Is that a deal?”

“Yes, Miss Grace.”

Grace gave him a big smile. “Come now, let’s go eat. And don’t worry about Mona.”

They heard a bell ringing as they walked back down the hall, their shoe heels once again clacking on the hard floor. “Dinner is served,” Grace said to Sam.

Back in the sitting room, Lisa was waiting for him. Grace handed him off to Lisa and said loudly enough that Sam would hear, “I like him. Hang on to him.”

“I will,” she said. Then she quickly turned to Sam and said, “Holy crap! I like having you around.”

“Why?”

“Because I have never seen such fireworks before. After you left with Maggie, grandmother just tore into mom. I mean it wasn’t even fair. Mom thinks she runs things, but grandma really set her straight. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” She looked at Sam and could see that his cheeks were still red. “Are you ok?”

“Just shook up I guess. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. I feel about two inches tall.”

Lisa gave him a hug. “I can imagine. Mom was a total bitch. But trust me, grandma totally slammed mom. She’s probably feeling about one inch tall. Besides,” and Lisa rubbed Sam’s crotch, “you look really fine now. Foxy! Come on, let’s go eat.”

The play had gone off without a hitch. The Hawthorne family had performed an exquisitely choreographed rendition of good cop, bad cop with Sam. The drama had been tightly scripted and superbly played. Mona would now be used as the stick to prod Sam along, and Grace would provide the carrot to pull him into their scheme. In the coming months Lisa would use both Mona and Grace to manipulate and transform Sam into the totally feminized and obedient husband cum wife that Lisa and her mentors desired.

And that is also how Sam learned to tuck.

The Samantha Project - Chapter 6-10

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Hair Salon / Long Hair / Wigs / Rollers

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Sam makes his first trip to the beauty salon. Miss Grace pulls Sam deeper into their trap as she asks him for a huge favor.

Hair and hair salon, femdom, crossdressing

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

CHAPTER 6

Dinner was uneventful. Sam refused to look at Mona, and she wouldn’t take her eyes off him. Mona was taking her role seriously, indeed. As soon as they were excused Lisa took Sam back to her bedroom. “I can’t wait to take these jeans off,” he told her.

“Why?” Lisa asked back.

“They’re too tight. And I can’t wait to … uhm … untuck.”

“Why?” she asked again. “Is it that uncomfortable?”

“It’s just unnatural,” Sam told her. Lisa smiled at that. She knew that someday, soon she hoped, it would be as natural as putting on a bra and lipstick.

When they reached the bedroom Sam began looking for his jeans, but they were nowhere in sight. “Let me call the maids and see if they cleaned up in here,” Lisa offered. She used the old fashioned telephone on her nightstand and rang Maggie. She talked for only a minute and then hung up. “Mom had the maids come get all your clothes and take them down to be washed. You’ll get them back first thing in the morning. Maybe she is trying to make up to you.”

“So I’m stuck in these jeans?” Sam asked. ‘”Do you have anything a little less confining?”

“Just pajamas. Are you ready to get into your pjs?” Lisa asked with a wicked grin.

“Are you?” he asked with a gleam in his eye.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said as she threw a stuffed tiger at him. “I told you I am saving myself. And with the two of us in nighties I can just about imagine where that will go.”

If he couldn’t change into anything more comfortable, he was at least going to free his penis from its current position. “I’ll be right back,” and he headed towards the bath.

Lisa called him back before he made it to the door. “Are you going to the toilet?” she asked.

“Yeah. I drank too much at dinner.”

“Are you going to … ahh … retuck when you’re done?” she asked him.

Sam was surprised by the question. “No,” was all he could think to say.

“Ok,” Lisa said as she shrugged and turned away from him.

Sam could read her body language and knew that he had given the wrong answer. But damn, he didn’t want to stay tucked any longer. It got sweaty and rather uncomfortable after a while. He had to free his penis. But with the tight jeans he was wearing, it would be obvious to Lisa. He wasn’t sure which way to go, but he didn’t want Lisa sulking. “Do you want me to?” he asked her.

“Well, as much as I hated mother’s attitude, I think you do look better with a smooth front. I mean you look better without the … the … bulge. But it is totally up to you.”

Sam issued a frustrated sigh and walked to the bathroom. A few minutes later he returned with a smooth front. “Yes!” Mona exclaimed as she smiled at Grace.

Grace kept her eyes on the monitor and said, “Good girl Lisa. You’ve got a knack for this. That you do.”

When Sam reached Lisa she rubbed the front of his jeans and said, “Thank you. Do you want to go watch some TV?” That was teenager code for, “Let’s go make out in front of the set.” The two of them kissed and petted for about an hour, while Sam learned first hand about the discomfort of having a raging erection bent over backwards and trapped between his legs. If he could have, he would have squirmed around enough to let his erection slip out from its entrapment. But the panties and jeans he was wearing were too tight to allow that to happen.

After a solid 15 minutes of snogging, lock jaw began to set in and both kids came up for air. “So what is the deal with Maggie? I mean according to every TV show that I have ever watched, the help never sits down with the family,” Sam said.

“Maggie is a very dear friend of my mother’s,” Lisa explained. “Maggie isn’t what she appears. She is CIA,” Lisa said bluntly.

“Really?”

“Yes, from Pittsburgh.”

“Pittsburgh?” Sam asked perplexed.

“Yes, the Culinary Institute of America,” Lisa giggled. “Maggie is a world class chef. She does all of the cooking and serving here because that is what she wants to do. And even that she doesn’t have to slave over. She has anywhere from one to three helpers in the kitchen, depending on what she needs. Maggie is the head chef, so to speak.”

“Really?” Lisa nodded and smiled. “And what about being your chauffeur?”

“Maggie is a car nut. I didn’t take you there, but Maggie has a show garage down by the other garages. She collects sports cars. And she likes to drive. We call her our back-up driver. She only drives me and mom around. Any other time, Chas is the official chauffeur.”

“I don’t get it,” Sam said. “So is she an employee?”

“No silly, she is like family.”

The light bulb went on over Sam’s head. “You mean like your aunt?”

Lisa laughed lightly, “Not exactly. It’s complicated. You’ll have to ask mom.”

Sam made a nasty face and said, “Then I guess it will have to wait.”

Sam fiddled a bit with Lisa’s blouse and gave her a short kiss. He came up for air and sheepishly asked, “How rich are you?”

“That’s not a polite question, Sam.”

Sam quickly apologized, “Sorry.”

“But that’s for others, you’re different,” and she leaned over to Sam for another kiss. “Grandmother once told me that there was nothing we couldn’t buy. And if we couldn’t buy it, we could overthrow it.”

Both of them smiled and Sam said, “Well that’s a bit cryptic.”

“We’re one of the five richest families around.” Lisa clarified.

“In the country?” Sam asked.

“No, in the world,” Lisa said as a matter of fact. “Sam, we’re as rich as they come.”

“Wow,” he sighed.

“Enough gab, now kiss me you fool,” and Lisa lunged on top of Sam for their next round.

About an hour later Lisa announced it was time to turn in for the evening. “We’ve got a fun day tomorrow.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Well, Maggie is driving us downtown in the morning so we can go to the salon. And then there is riding in the afternoon and then some time at the pool. You know, real busy and important stuff,” she said facetiously.

“Do you want me to go to the salon with you?”

“Of course. We both have appointments.”

“I have an appointment? For what?”

“First to get your hair trimmed and cleaned up a little. Don’t worry, I’ll pay. And second, we’re both going to get a facial.”

“I don’t want a facial. Guys don’t get facials.”

“Silly, yes they do. At this economic and social level, guys take care of themselves and their skin. It’s important to look good. Girls and guys!” Lisa said it firmly and with the unmistakable tone that it was not a topic for debate.

All Sam could do was utter a little, “Ok.”

“Ok, then. Let me get some pajamas for you,” Lisa said as she jumped up from their love seat and headed for her dressers.

Sam knew they were going to be girl’s pajamas and they would be in an unopened package. “Don’t worry about it, Lisa. I can sleep in the buff tonight.”

“No you can’t,” she stated as another matter of fact. “You’re not sleeping in my bed all naked. It isn’t acceptable.” She pulled open a drawer and looked at her selection. “Would you like pajamas or a negligee?”

“Not a negligee,” he answered. He couldn’t offer to sleep in a negligee in front of his girl friend. That was just utterly ridiculous.

“Too bad. You might like it. They are much freer than pajamas.” Lisa pulled two unopened packages from the dresser, one was yellow and one was pink. She knew which one he would choose.

“The yellow ones, I guess.”

Lisa handed him the yellow silk pajamas and then went to her armoire and retrieved a light satin bathrobe for him. It was a dusky rose color. She tossed the bathrobe on the bed and then gave him a goodnight hug and kiss. “Don’t worry about an alarm, I’ll have Maggie call us both at 8. Sweet dreams,” and she gave him one last kiss before leaving for her room.

All of the monitors were carefully being watched to see if he would wear the pajamas to bed. He didn’t. However, there were contingency plans for this situation.

As soon as the lights were out, his telephone rang. “Hello.”

“Hi, it’s me,” Lisa said. “Are you all snuggled into bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Is the bed comfy?”

“Sure is.”

“Are you wearing your pajamas?”

Sam stumbled for just a second. “Yep.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m tempted to sneak down for one more goodnight kiss just to see how cute you look.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said and hung up. He turned on the light and jumped out of bed to find his pajamas. He quickly put them on, jumped back in bed and turned out the light. When she saw that he was ready, Lisa tiptoed down to his room and gave a soft knock before she cracked the door and softly walked over to the bed.

“Everything ok?” she asked.

“Wonderful,” Sam answered.

“Good. Goodnight,” and she gave him a kiss and tucked him into bed.

There was another round of congratulations when Lisa left the room. It had truly been a successful day.

CHAPTER 7

Sam was lying in bed waiting for the hands on the clock to reach 8:00. He was on his back, absentmindedly caressing the soft silk of the pajamas that he was wearing. Truth be known, he was encased in soft feminine surroundings and he was enjoying it. The satin sheets were very smooth and soft, and he had slid around effortlessly during the night. He had slept exceptionally well, considering that he had trouble getting Mona’s humiliation out of his mind. It had taken a little longer than normal to fall asleep, but once he was out he never heard a sound until after 7:30. Then he decided to roll around in his luxurious surroundings until Maggie called.

Only Maggie didn’t call. At 2 minutes after 8:00 the phone rang and it was Lisa calling. “Good morning sleepy head. Rise and shine.”

“I’ve been awake for almost half an hour,” Sam said.

“Did you take a shower yet?”

“Not yet.”

“So what have you been doing?”

“Just lying here and snuggling in my girl friend’s bed and looking all over for her. It’s a big bed and you can probably hide an elephant in here, but I can’t find my girl anywhere.”

“Are you calling me an elephant?”

“No,no no. I’m just saying that my girl friend is really good at hide and seek.”

“Sure you are. Anyway, let’s get you up and moving. After you take a shower, there are shaving materials, toothpaste and tooth brush, mouth wash and anything else you might need in the last drawer to the right. When you finish call me at 22 and I’ll come down to help you pick out some clothes for the day.”

“Why can’t I just wear my clothes?”

“A little problem there. I’ll explain when I see you. Put on your bathrobe and call me when you’re ready. 22, remember.” Lisa hung up and turned to her monitor to watch Sam. She had been up for an hour and was already dressed and ready to go. Sam threw off the blankets and crawled out for the day. Lisa was pleased to see that he was still wearing his yellow, silk pajamas. “Good for you,” she said to the monitor.

Thirty minutes later, Lisa knocked on the door, then pushed it open before waiting for an invitation. Sam was sitting on the bed, wearing the satin bathrobe that Lisa had left him the night before. “I was hoping you would have my clothes with you,” he said.

“Good morning to you too,” Lisa said as she gave him a hug and kiss. “You smell nice. About your clothes. There was a machine problem last night. Marie the upstairs maid, took your clothes and washed them. Then she left for the evening and forgot to put them in the dryer. When Janice, the downstairs maid went to wash a load of sheets this morning, she threw them in without looking.”

“She didn’t see my clothes?”

“These are big commercial size washers,” Lisa explained. “Anyway, Janice added bleach to the whites.” Sam’s eyes opened wide and he just stared at Lisa. “Your clothes are ruined I’m afraid. I’ll replace them, I promise.”

“So what am I going to wear?” he asked dejectedly. He almost knew what was coming.

“Not to worry, I have you covered. There are still lots of new panties and socks, and you can wear the same shoes. Then you have a choice; you can wear the same jeans if you want, but it might be better if we get a pair of dress slacks from Harriet’s room?” Lisa posed Sam’s options as a question more than a statement.

“Is your mom here this morning?” Sam asked carefully.

Lisa laughed lightly. She knew exactly what Sam was asking. “Mom will be at breakfast and no she doesn’t approve of jeans when we have company. And no matter how much grandma likes you, you’re still company for the time being.”

“Then I guess the answer is pretty clear. What about a shirt?”

“We’ll pick out something from Harriet’s. Put on your undies, grab your shoes and we’ll go.” Sam found his packages of panties and socks and returned to the bath to put them on. When he came out, Lisa was holding his shoes and she just motioned him out the door.

They walked half way down the hall, and then went into a bedroom on the opposite side of the hall. This bedroom was every bit as big as Lisa’s, and if Sam thought Lisa’s bedroom was feminine, this one made Lisa’s look absolutely butch. Everything was pink, frilly, satin or silk, and it smelled like a garden in spring. Dolls and dollhouses were sitting on just about every flat spot in the room. The walls had pictures of beautiful actresses dressed in formal gowns and looking deliciously elegant.

Sam looked around the room and picked up one of the dolls. “Harriet is your sister?”

“She’s my twin sister.”

Sam dropped the doll and looked at Lisa. “Identical twin?”

“No, we’re fraternal twins.”

“Where is she?” Sam asked.

“Off to school. They go on their break next week.”

“Where is she going?”

“It’s a very expensive, private school in Switzerland for special girls.”

“She’s smarter than you?” Sam asked just to be mischievous.

“No, it’s more of a finishing school to turn her into a beautiful, society girl.”

“Why didn’t you go to one of those exclusive finishing schools?”

“Because I’m already a beautiful, society girl,” she said with a giggle and smile.

“That you are,” Sam agreed.

“Besides, I may still go to one of those schools for post graduate work.” Disappointment was obviously written across Sam’s face. Lisa could easily read it. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. Now, let’s see what we can find for you in this spacious closet.”

The closet was indeed spacious. Sam quickly noticed that it was not only much larger than Lisa’s but it had lots of different things. The first thing he noticed were shelves of styrofoam heads holding wigs. There were wigs of all kinds, colors, lengths and styles. The second thing he noticed was a long row of formal dresses. Some of them were floor length and some were very short. Then there were “regular” dresses, but probably two or three times as many as Lisa had. And finally a row of suits. When Sam picked out one of the suits he noticed that it had both slacks and a skirt.

“I need to choose a pair of slacks from one of her suits? Is that right?”

“Yep. See anything you like?”

Sam looked through the suits and decided that they were all very feminine. The jackets were obviously cut for a woman and many of them looked like the front button was very low, as if to show off a nice set of tits, or at least some cleavage. And most of the colors were light colored or pinkish.

“What about this one?” Lisa was holding a subdued pink suit with a pair of pant legs hanging out from below the jacket. Lisa was teasing and she had a grin for Sam.

“Too blah,” Sam answered. “How about this one,” and he picked up a light gray suit. It was the most conservative color in the collection.

“Nah,” Lisa said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Not bright enough.” Lisa knew it was the only suit that Sam was prepared to accept that day. Maybe in the future she would get him into that pink suit. “Well, if you insist,” she said with a smile, “come on, why don’t you go try them on.”

Sam carried them into the bath and took off his robe. He pulled on the slacks and noticed they were styled in a very feminine manner. There were no pockets and the front had pleats at the belt. There was a belt with the slacks and it was very thin, as were the loops. There was no way he could use his own belt. The legs had a stiff crease down the front, making them look very dressy. And most surprising of all was the soft lining. It almost felt like satin. The slacks looked very dressy on Sam, and they were very comfortable. Obviously, Harriet was bigger than Lisa, and had a different approach to clothes. Judging by the room, Harriet was more into feminine draping than Lisa.

What Sam didn’t know was that this was no longer Harriet’s room and these were no longer Harriet’s clothes. When she returned from school Harriet would be moving into a different room, and all of these clothes would no longer be needed by her. Her figure was going to require a new and better wardrobe. Harriet’s old clothes had been carefully chosen and separated and moved into two rooms. These were to be Sam’s clothes and this was to be Sam’s room when he moved in for the spring. But that was still a ways off.

“Come out here and show me,” Lisa called from the other room.

Sam slipped on his shoes and walked out wearing the slacks and nothing on top. “Oooh, those look great. How do they fit?”

“Good.”

“Ok then. Let’s find a top for you. That requires another closet,” and Lisa led Sam to closet number two.

Closet number two was smaller than the first and it was lined with blouses, sweaters and tops. There was a section with satiny robes and silky negligees. There were racks of shoes lining the wall of the closet, and he even saw bathing suits in one section.

“Those are dressy slacks, we can’t just throw a tee over them,” Lisa explained as she started looking through the blouses. “These are all pretty nice; I think you will need something underneath. We’ll probably need a cami.”

“A cami?” Sam asked with just a bit of trepidation. “What’s a cami?”

“An undershirt. But it’s a little nicer than one of your boy undershirts. Don’t worry, you’ll like it. But let’s find an appropriate top first.” Lisa held up a shear blouse for Sam to examine. “What do you think of this one?” she asked.

“I don’t think I’ll wear that one today.”

No, she thought to herself, but someday soon you will. “Ok, we’ll put that on the maybe list,” Lisa joked. “The easiest thing for you to wear is a white blouse, and thanks to Harriet who color codes everything, these are your choices.”

Lisa held up a very frilly blouse. “Nope,” said Sam. Then she held up a shear blouse. “Nope,” again. Lisa was having fun. She knew Sam wouldn’t accept one of those type blouses. So next she gave him a break and held up a plain linen, long sleeve blouse. “Ok,” Sam agreed.

“You will need a camisole with it,” Lisa said. The two of them went to one of Harriet’s dressers and started looking through drawers until Lisa found a silky camisole with spaghetti straps. She held it up for Sam to inspect.

“That’s a camisole?”

“Yep.”

“And I’m supposed to wear that under this shirt?”

“Blouse.”

“Blouse?”

“That shirt is called a blouse. And yes, it is appropriate for you to wear this camisole under that blouse. On you go,” Lisa instructed.

Sam slipped on first the camisole and then his blouse, tucked it in and did a pirouette for Lisa. “You look nice Sam. Those go together just great. Come on, let’s go get some breakfast.”

When they walked into the small dining room, Mona and Maggie were sipping coffee. “Good morning,” Maggie said. “Sam, how would you like your eggs?”

“Good morning. Sunnyside up, please.”

“You look very nice this morning,” Mona told Sam. “However, may I make one small suggestion?” Lisa and Sam cringed. “Your pant cuffs are almost dragging on the floor. If you picked out some shoes with a heel one inch higher, you might not ruin Harriet’s expensive clothes.”

Lisa and Sam both looked at his cuffs. “You’re right mom. We’ll be right back,” and she grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Once they had reached the stairs to the second floor she said, “It’s a reasonable request and maybe it will make her happy.”

“I doubt it,” Sam said with a frown.

Lisa went through Harriet’s closet and found a pair of black shoes with 3 inch platform heels. “I feel like a giant in these,” Sam said.

“Do you like being taller?”

“I could get used to it, shorty.”

Lisa stretched up and gave him a kiss. “I prefer taller men.”

With the taller heels, breakfast turned out to be nutritious and almost pleasant.

Lisa, Sam and Maggie were out the door and off to the salon at 9:00 sharp. At 9:02 Mona was on her cell phone to the salon. “The kids are out the door and they will be there right on time for their ten o’clock appointment. When they arrive, I want everyone in the salon to compliment Sam on how pleasant he looks.”

Maggie held the door to the Mercedes while Lisa and Sam crawled into the back seat.

“Where are we going?” Sam asked.

“Downtown Washington. We always use the salon in the company building.”

“That seems like a long way to go for your salon. Why don’t you find someplace closer?”

“Because that is where we usually are. The salon is convenient to work, and mom has a deal worked out with them. We just put our bills on a company account and the company pays for it. It’s a little perk for the executive employees.

“Besides, they have one of the best staffs around. The company specs them out for all of our models. We have a couple of freelance photographers that we use for most of our promo work; they’re a block or two away. The photographers send the models to the salon because of their expertise in prepping the girls for the bright lights. Then the girls pop back over to the photo studios, or more often than not they use our studios on the second floor. So the salon staff is totally up to date on all of the latest styles and they are really great.”

“I see,” said Sam. “So, why again am I going with you today?”

“Just to get a little trim and to have a facial with me.”

“Why do I need a facial?”

“I told you, you always need to look your best, and your complexion is one of the most important aspects to beauty.”

“And guys do this?”

“The smart ones with enough money do. Sam, when you want to reach the top levels of the business and social world, you need to do this. And besides, I wanted your company today.”

“And then can I go shopping for some real clothes?”

“Those aren’t real clothes?” Lisa teased. “They only cost about a thousand dollars.”

“You know what I mean. I want some jeans and a guy’s shirt to wear,” he complained.

Lisa relented, “I know. Yeah, there are a couple more shops on the first floor that we can use.”

“Thanks.”

Maggie drove the three of them into Washington D.C. and brought them to the Hawthorne Building. Maggie pulled into a reserved spot in the underground parking deck and let the kids out of the car. “I’ll be in my office. Give me a call when you’re ready,” she said.

Lisa took Sam’s hand and pulled him along. Maggie used her security card to call a private elevator. The three of them rode up 2 flights to the ground level, where Lisa and Sam stepped out. “This way,” Lisa exclaimed as she pulled Sam to the Hawthorne Building Beauty Salon. With more than a bit of trepidation Sam followed Lisa through the frosted glass door.

The first thing that Sam noticed was the smell. The aromas were complex and strong. They smelled a little like ammonia, flowery perfume, astringent with touches of alcohol thrown in, some acetone and acrylics and a bit of something sweet. They weren’t unpleasant, but they weren’t overly inviting either. They weren’t the types of aromas that one would use to pull customers into a store.

On the other hand, Lisa took a deep breath and reveled in the complex and intoxicating fragrances. Lisa loved the smell like a boy who always remembers the smell of his first love’s perfume. This was where Lisa belonged. She dearly wanted to convert Sam into a salon lover also. This was going to be her first step in that direction.

They walked up to the front desk where Lisa was immediately recognized and greeted by the receptionist. “And are you Sam?” she asked the person trying to hide behind Lisa. Without waiting for an answer she followed up her greeting with the first of many compliments for Sam, “I love your outfit. You look really sweet.” Then the girl turned all business, “Lisa, you have your usual stylist. Bridgette will take you in one second. And Sam, Susan will be your stylist.”

Before Sam could think, he heard a voice behind him, “Hello, I’m Susan, and you must be Sam.” Sam turned and had a beautifully manicured hand thrust out at him. “I love your choice in clothes. You look very sharp.” Sam shook the girl’s hand and she immediately inspected Sam’s nails. “Would you like a manicure also today?”

Sam shook his head no, and Lisa spoke up, “Next time Susan. We’re on a tight schedule today.”

Bridgette had joined the group and asked Lisa, “Off to a show or something?”

Lisa and Bridgette hugged and exchanged air kisses. “Nope, even better; riding. I haven’t been on Cinnamon in almost 2 months. I can’t wait to get back to her.”

“Then we better move along,” Bridgette said.

The two stylists led their customers to adjacent sinks. Sam took his seat and Susan flapped a white cape in the air and settled it down over his shoulders. She took a tissue and tied it around his neck, and then pulled the cape tight around his neck and fastened it. “Slide down,” she instructed Sam as she held his head in her hand and guided him to a soft landing on the sink. Sam was almost lying on his back looking at the ceiling as Susan began rinsing his hair. “You have especially thick hair, Sam. It should hold a style a long time without going limp. Do you use anything special on it?”

“Nope,” he confessed.

“I highly recommend a good crá¨me rinse that we handle here. It will allow your hair to be soft and still not blow around in the wind.”

Before Sam could answer Lisa spoke from the adjacent chair, “That’s a good idea Susan. Set a bottle aside for us to take with us.”

“Certainly.” Susan rinsed Sam’s hair, added shampoo and lathered it up, making sure to massage his scalp as she cleaned his hair. She rinsed out the suds and then held a bottle over Sam’s head so he could read the label. “This is the crá¨me rinse that I recommend,” and she shook a dollop in her hand. Again she massaged the rinse into Sam’s hair and scalp. It had a strong outdoorsy smell to it, sort of like spring air after a rain, Sam thought. A bit too perfumey for his tastes, though. But Lisa was buying it so he would take it home with him. Just, he probably would never use it.

Bridgette and Susan finished their clients at about the same time. With a big towel wrapped over his head and Susan holding it in place, they walked over to a pair of styling chairs where the clients sat across from each other. “Isn’t this fun?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah,” Sam answered without an enormous amount of enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry,” Lisa thought to herself. “Someday you will live for this; your weekly trip to the beauty salon.”

Susan used the towel to sop up the excess water from Sam’s head, then began combing it out. Bridgette was doing the same with Lisa, but she was slowly falling behind because Lisa had much more hair. With his wet hair combed straight, Susan used her fingers and a pair of scissors to pull Sam’s hair away from his head and clip just a little from the ends. “I’m not cutting much from your hair. It’s a little too short for you as it is. So, I’m just prepping it for your next visit.” Susan had been given her instructions before Sam had even arrived, so there was no reason to discuss the process. But she did like to give her client a running dialog on their progress.

Lisa received the same treatment, but she had just a bit more hair removed from the top. Her hair was already much longer than Sam’s, and she didn’t need to let it grow out much longer. Bridgette touched up her bangs and then pulled over a roller cart. She quickly began sectioning Lisa’s hair and rolling it up with curlers. Sam watched in fascination as Lisa’s head was quickly filled with the hair curlers.

While Bridgette was rolling Lisa’s hair, Susan finished trimming Sam’s. She used her hair blower and a brush to fluff his hair as she dried it. When she was finished, she sprayed a big dose of a sweet smelling spray over his head. “Since your hair is so short, this will help hold it in place when you go riding,” Susan told him. Lisa watched and gave him a big smile without saying anything.

Bridgette continued rolling Lisa’s hair, while Sam watched. When her hair was totally rolled, Bridgette pushed the cart out of the way as Susan returned with two bowls of green, creamy goo. She handed one of the bowls to Bridgette and set the other on her counter. Susan tilted Sam’s chair back so he was once again looking up towards the ceiling. “You’re going to like this,” Susan said. “It is full of emollients and skin restoring agents. It will pull all of the gunk out of your pores and leave your skin feeling silky smooth.”

As Susan spread the creamy mixture over his face and massaged it in, he could see out of the corner of his eye that Bridgette was doing the same to Lisa. She was laying there with her eyes closed and totally enjoying the sensations. Sam closed his eyes and tried to imagine what Lisa was thinking at that moment.

Lisa was thinking about Sam. She was hoping that he was enjoying the tactile pleasures and aromas of his first salon visit. She was imagining a feminized Sam lying next to Lisa in future visits, with the two of them getting their hair permed and their nails manicured. She was thinking of them both enjoying a full makeover and later squeezing into wedding dresses overflowing with taffeta and silky lace and a veil for each. Lisa’s mind was a thousand miles away and yet right next to her boy friend and future lover. Lisa was actually getting damp as she thought about spending hours of bliss with her feminized and compliant boy-wife. Her very own F/M; effeminate and emasculated.

The two stylists finished spreading the cream, and then stepped away to allow their two clients to enjoy some peace as they soaked in the emollients. Without opening her eyes Lisa whispered, “Sam, are still with us?”

“Where would I go?”

“I thought you might drift off to sleep. This is so relaxing, isn’t it?”

Sam didn’t feel like he was going to drift off to sleep, but he knew that he was supposed to agree with his girl friend. “Yeah, it is,” and he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out; a sigh for Lisa.

They let the facial soak in for about half an hour before the two stylists returned. Susan wiped the cream off Sam’s face and announced, “You have a couple of black heads here. I’ll clean them up for you.” She then used her nails to squeeze and pop out several of the more obvious culprits. Bridgette moved faster than Susan, and she soon had Lisa up and moving over to a hair dryer.

When Susan finished up with Sam she reminded him to pick up his crá¨me rinse at the front desk. “You can wait here for Lisa if you want,” she offered. She handed him a magazine on hair styling and then left him alone. Sam glanced at the magazine and watched Lisa under the dryer. Every once in a while she would smile or wave at him. Eventually, Bridgette brought Lisa back to her chair and began removing Lisa’s curlers.

“Did you miss me?” Lisa asked Sam.

“Not at all. I saw you the entire time. You never would have gotten away from me,” he joked.

Bridgette finished removing Lisa’s curlers and brushed out her style. “What do you think?” Lisa was asking Sam for his approval. Sam couldn’t see much difference other than her hair was a bit more plumped up. Dirty and greasy hair does tend to lie flatter he knew.

“You look great,” he said.

“Maybe next time you can get a set too,” Lisa said with a slight tease to her voice. In her heart there was no tease, she would feminize her petite courtesan.

Lisa walked Sam up to the front desk and signed for their services. She made sure that Sam carried out his crá¨me rinse with him. “Now then, I think you wanted to get some jeans? There is a store right down the way here.”

Lisa took Sam to a fashion shop that carried designer jeans. They found a very expensive pair of jeans for Sam which caused some bit of anxiety. Even though Lisa was paying, Sam thought the jeans cost way too much. They went looking through the t-shirts trying to find a top that he could wear. “How about a Nationals shirt?” Sam asked. “It’s perfect for D.C.”

“No,” Lisa said bluntly.

“Why not?”

“Because we consider the Nationals a northern team. Mom will not approve of a team that she considers to be full of Yankees.”

“Ok,” Sam replied as he returned the shirt to the display. Lisa’s comments had caught him off guard. He was from north of the Mason-Dixon line, and he wondered if those sentiments applied to him also. That might explain some of Mona’s attitude towards him.

Instead, Lisa bought Sam a nice polo shirt. “It’ll be better than a t-shirt, trust me,” she told him. What Sam could not find was men’s underwear. “Don’t worry,” Lisa comforted him. “I still have clean panties and socks back home that you can wear, and no one will be any the wiser.”

Lisa rushed them from the store and back to the main lobby. They went to the private elevator and Lisa used her card to call it down to the lobby. They stepped in and she typed in a password before she hit the top button.

“What’s up here?” Sam asked.

“Maggie. And a place that you can change clothes.”

They stepped off the elevator into another world. They were in a lobby with soft, plush carpeting and indirect lighting hanging from the walls. There were comfortable chairs spread around, tables with desk lamps for working and quiet alcoves off to the side. In the center of the room was a round desk with a working area behind it, ostensibly for the receptionist. And straight ahead was a heavy wooden door with a pad next to it.

Lisa led Sam to the door and slid her card in the pad. Sam heard a click and the door popped open just an inch. He grabbed it and pulled it open for Lisa. Into another hall they walked. The hall was lined with wainscoting and pink rose wallpaper above it. On the walls were oil paintings of famous generals and politicians. Sam only recognized two, General Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis. As they walked down the hall, every so often an alcove opened up. In it was a desk and a couple of plush chairs, and behind the desk was another door with a pad next to it. And in front of each alcove was a gold-embossed plaque with a title and name on it.

There were a few secretaries at work and Lisa said hi to each of them. They all knew Lisa and returned her greeting. Half way down the hall they came to an empty alcove. The plaque said Executive Vice President — M. J. Hawthorne. Lisa stepped behind the empty desk and found a pentagon of 5 buttons. She pushed the 4 o’clock button. “Yes?” came from the speaker next to the button. “It’s us,” she announced, and the door quickly clicked open.

Lisa motioned Sam to follow her through the door. Inside was another office, much more elaborate but definitely designed for an executive secretary. There were a couple more doors, but one of them was open. Lisa and Sam went through the open door and Sam received the shock of his life. Maggie was sitting behind the desk. And not just any desk, but a beautiful mahogany monstrosity the size of a greyhound bus. Behind her were floor to ceiling windows with shear drapes hanging from them.

As he looked around the room Sam couldn’t believe the money. The furniture, chairs, tables, and credenzas were magnificent. There was another door off to the right, and on the walls were magnificent pictures of classic convertibles from around the world. Sam’s jaw dropped as he looked around. His impressed stare wasn’t missed by either Lisa or Maggie.

“Do you like what you see?” Maggie asked.

Sam blushed a little and closed his mouth. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” he stammered.

“Come take a look out the window,” Lisa offered. “The view is pretty impressive.”

Sam walked across the room and he noticed that there were no noises in the room. His shoes made no noise, there was no A/C noise and there was no outside noise. The silence was probably the most impressive point about the entire room. He stood in front of the window and glanced out on Washington D.C. He could make out most of the monuments and hi-lights of the renowned city. Maggie walked up behind and put her arm on his shoulder. “So what do you think?”

“Nice view,” he quipped.

“What about the office?”

“I have never seen anything like it,” he gushed. “Not even in movies.”

Maggie patted him on the shoulder and turned him around. Standing behind the huge desk he saw three pictures framing her work area. One of the pictures was Mona, one was Lisa and the third was a pretty girl with a marked resemblance to Lisa. That just raised a ton of questions. The first question was what was Maggie doing here? Was she an executive VP? The maid, chef and chauffeur was a VP? And a VP of what? And what were Mona and Lisa’s pictures doing on her desk? The questions just tumbled through his mind.

Lisa brought him back to earth, “Did you want to change before we go back?” Lisa had caught his attention and he nodded yes. “The bath is over there.” Lisa pointed to the door on the side of the room.

Sam carried his packages to the door and stepped into the bath. The bath was every bit as ostentatious as the office had been. There was a shower, a bath, a toilet and bidet, and two large closets; probably for towels and toiletries. Sam popped off his shoes, removed Harriet’s clothes, including her camisole, and switched into his new jeans and shirt. He stepped into his shoes and realized how ridiculous the female shoes looked with his male clothing. He should have brought his sneakers.

He finished changing and he noticed another door on the opposite side of the room. He couldn’t help himself. As quietly as he could he opened the door just a crack to look in. It was a bedroom! Wow! It had a large canopied bed, an armoire and a pair of tripods with photography lights on them. He didn’t notice the pictures on the wall, which was too bad. It was a missed opportunity for Sam.

Sam returned to the office where he found Lisa and Maggie chatting. “Are you ready to go riding?” Lisa asked. She took Harriet’s clothing from Sam and carried them as the three of them returned to the car in the sub-basement and Maggie drove them home.

CHAPTER 8

Lisa literally ran into the house when they returned. She pushed Sam up the stairs and into Harriet’s bedroom. “Ok, you’re going to need jodhpurs, and boots and a blouse.” She quickly rummaged through Harriet’s closet to find what she needed. She threw the appropriate clothes on the bed, set the boots on the floor and said she would be back in 10 minutes. She slammed the door on her way out. Sam didn’t have a chance to utter a single word.

Sam got dressed as quickly as he could, and it still wasn’t fast enough. He had only one boot on when Lisa came barging back in. “Come on! Let’s go!”

They almost ran to the stable, where Jennifer already had Abigail saddled and ready to ride. Lisa had called from her room to give Jennifer a heads up. Cinnamon was in her stall, waiting for Lisa to saddle her up. The talk coming from the stall almost sounded as if Lisa were making love to her mare rather than preparing her for a ride.

Moments later Lisa and Cinnamon came charging from the stall and out into the corral. Once there, Sam and Jennifer watched them go through their paces together. After fifteen minutes of various canters they charged out of the corral and out into the jumping field where once again they ran and jumped like wild acrobats. Sam could tell that Lisa was an excellent equestrian. Her enthusiasm alone proved that. Eventually Lisa remembered that she had a guest and the two of them returned to the corral.

“That was pretty impressive,” Sam said.

“We’re just getting warmed up, ain’t that right Cinnamon?” and she patted her horse on her neck. “Well let’s see what you got,” she told Sam.

“I got nothing. Which end goes forward?”

Lisa laughed and Jennifer took over. She introduced Sam to Abigail. Lisa and Cinnamon trotted around and did fancy circles and back steps while she watched Jennifer teach Sam the fundamentals of riding. About an hour later Jennifer released Sam to Lisa. “Do you want me to follow behind?” she asked Lisa.

“No thanks. We won’t do anything difficult.”

“Well absolutely no jumping, Lisa. I mean it,” Jennifer commanded.

Lisa laughed and yelled, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” as she and Sam trotted out of the corral.

Once she had the two of them out of the corral she kicked Cinnamon up to a fast trot and Abigail followed along beside her. Lisa was good, and she didn’t push Cinnamon or Abigail beyond beginning level, much to the appreciation of Sam. The two of them rode and chatted and sang and laughed for the better part of an hour. Watching Lisa ride, Sam was sure that she could live on the back of that horse. But Sam’s bottom wasn’t use to the abuse. When Lisa asked if Sam wanted to head back to the stable, he jumped at the opportunity.

Lisa wanted to put Cinnamon back, and she spent another half hour brushing down the mare. Jennifer handled Abigail and Sam straddled the gate talking with Lisa as she talked baby talk to a horse. Lisa was truly happiest when she was with Cinnamon. That was plainly evident to both Sam and Lisa.

By the time they began their walk back to the house it was well past tea time. “Saturdays are barbeque night when we’re at home. We should probably start getting cleaned up. We need to pick out some appropriate clothing for you tonight.”

“I don’t suppose jeans are appropriate,” Sam said wistfully.

Lisa gave him a hug and her condolences. “Fraid not. We’ll get you something comfortable from Harriet’s room. Do you want to wear a nice summer dress? They’re really comfortable,” she said with a little poke at Sam.

“Let’s save that for Sunday,” he joked.

“Really?”

“Not!”

“Don’t get my hopes up like that,” Lisa pouted. “It’s not nice,” and she poked him again. “Do you want to wear what you wore to the salon? It’s easy.”

Sam was becoming resigned to having to dress for dinner, and even worse was dressing in girl clothes since his dress clothes were back at school. “That would be fine,” he said.

Later in the evening they were once again in Lisa’s room, sitting in front of the television and snogging indecently. During one of their temporary breaks Sam tried to ask about Maggie. But unlike the night before Lisa would say nothing about Maggie. She kept referring Sam to Mona for answers, and of course Sam knew that meant his questions weren’t going to be answered. It was most perplexing.

CHAPTER 9

Sunday morning was sleep in time for the two kids. Mona went to church but Maggie didn’t. “The social contacts are important,” Mona explained later in the day. “Kooks and nuts,” Maggie pronounced them. So Maggie was putzing around the kitchen when the kids wandered in at 9:30. Maggie kicked the help out of the room and the three of them made breakfast and then sat in the kitchen and ate. Maggie was friendly and funny and had a keen understanding of the latest social and electronic trends. Maggie sounded like a competent computer whiz. And she loved cars. She promised to show Sam her collection whenever he was available.

Unfortunately, Sam wasn’t available for Maggie. Lisa had them down to the stable in no time at all. Surprisingly, Jennifer was there to continue Sam’s riding lessons. When Sam expressed his surprise about Jennifer working on a Sunday, Lisa was nonchalant. “I asked her to be here. You needed another lesson.” Period. It was that simple.

They had lunch on the back patio, still wearing their jodhpurs. Lunch was prepared and served by one of Maggie’s assistants. Maggie was no where to be found. After lunch Lisa wanted to go swimming. Sam had no trunks so they improvised. Well improvised as much as everything that week had been planned if not outright rehearsed.

“You can wear one of Harriet’s suits,” Lisa said as they thumbed through her closet.

“Why don’t we go skinny dipping?” Sam asked innocently.

That brought the biggest and longest laugh from Lisa that Sam had ever witnessed. She rolled on the bed and actually fell onto the floor. She stood up and composed her self for a second, and then fell back on the bed laughing. After she settled down she said, “I won’t even begin to tell you how many ways that would never work. Trust me, pick a suit.”

She tried to get him to wear a one piece suit, but he refused. He wanted to wear the bottom half of a larger suit, and Lisa wanted him to wear the top also. Sam was adamant that he would not wear a top because, among other things, he might get tan lines with it. Since that was his biggest objection, Lisa devised a little plan. Sam changed into the bottom half of the suit and Lisa tucked the top half into her pocket.

When Sam returned form the bathroom, his male accoutrements were bulging obscenely in the bikini bottoms. “You’re going to have to tuck,” Lisa told him.

“This suit isn’t tight enough to keep me tucked. I tried and I slide out too easily.”

“You’re too big,” Lisa said facetiously.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Wear a pool robe and if mother comes near us, go hide somewhere and tuck yourself. Seriously, she’ll have kittens if you don’t tuck yourself.”

Lisa changed into her suit — what little there was — and they wandered down to the pool, after collecting a lemonade in the kitchen. Mona was nowhere in sight. At the pool they were pretty much sheltered from prying eyes from the house. Or at least Sam thought so. The CCTVs were rolling and Mona was actually recording in case there was something that she wanted to show Grace later.

The two kids romped in the water and actually swam a few laps. Sam was surprised at what a good swimmer Lisa was. It seemed like Lisa could do anything. They settled into the shallow end and sipped their lemonades and talked about school and movies and even books. They decided that after dinner they would go out to see a movie.

After turning into prunes they moved up to the lounges. Lisa pulled hers into the sun, but Sam kept his in the shade. After another short while Lisa asked Sam for a favor.

“Depends,” he said.

“If you do it, I’ll get one of Maggie’s cars for our date tonight.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know the names of them, but trust me, you have never been in a hotter car no matter what she gives us.”

“Like what?”

“How about a gull wing Mercedes?”

“Not a chance,” he answered.

“I can’t guarantee that, but it will be something just as awesome. I promise.”

“Ok, I’ll agree. What do you want me to do?”

“It’s pretty simple really. I want you to wear the top to that suit for half an hour.”

“Why?”

“Cause I want to see what you look like is all. No big deal.”

“Half an hour. And I don’t have to get in the sun with it.”

“Well for a little. I want to go in the pool too.”

Sam sighed and waved at Lisa. She tossed over the top, and then followed it over to Sam. He put it on, but didn’t know how to tie it in the back. The straps to the cups went behind his neck and tied there. Lisa tied it then stood back to take in the affect. “I like it,” she announced.

“I think it is stupid, and if anyone saw it they would think it is dumb too.”

“I’ll bet not. You’ve worn girl’s clothes for the better part of two days and no one thought you looked dumb,” she said smugly.

”Except you mother,” he answered just as smugly.

“That was a little different. It was only one little thing that she objected to.”

“Little?” Sam exclaimed with as much hurt as he could muster in his voice.

“Bad choice of words. If it was little mom wouldn’t have complained,” she giggled. Sam relented and smiled. “Come on,” Lisa said. “I want to see you in the pool. I want to see what you look like when you’re wet.”

“This isn’t a wet t-shirt contest,” Sam said as he followed her to the pool.

“Yes it is. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Deal!” Sam couldn’t agree quickly enough.

Sam jumped in the pool and swam out a ways. He turned and lifted his bikini top. “There’s mine. Where’s yours?”

Lisa jumped in and waded over to Sam. “If mom ever finds out about this she’ll kill me.”

Sam made a spectacle of looking around and then turned back to Lisa. “I don’t see her. Now it’s your turn, show me yours.”

Lisa started laughing and splashed Sam. “Ok you voyeur, here,” and she pulled up her top to let her boobs fall out of her bikini.

Sam’s eyes almost popped out. Lisa wasn’t over sized on top, but she was well proportioned and her young breasts were firm and pert. The water made her nipples firm up and protrude out like nothing Sam had ever seen. His mouth popped open. Lisa laughed and splashed water in his mouth. “There we’re even,” she covered her breasts.

“I don’t think so,” Sam said. “I think you are just a little bit ahead. Like two or three cup sizes.”

“Jealous?” she asked as she flashed her tits again.

“Maybe,” he answered.

“Show me yours again?” she asked.

Sam imitated Lisa and pretended he was bouncing big tits out of his bikini.

“You have some flair for doing that. How would you like a real pair like mine?”

“I have to admit that you are beautiful. I think I could enjoy a pair like that,” Sam joked.

Lisa laughed and jumped into his arms. “Well maybe we can arrange that someday. How would you like that?” she asked as she kissed him. He never answered the question as he plunged his tongue into her mouth.

Mona hit the copy button and backed the tape up onto a permanent disk. “Grace will want to see that,” she said to herself. “Hell, Lisa might want a copy for her scrap book too.”

Sam was disappointed later, when Lisa had to renege on her promise to Sam. Maggie refused to allow one of her prize autos to sit in a parking lot while they went into the movie. The three of them crammed into a 1972 Mercedes Benz 380 SL. Maggie drove them and picked them up after the movie.

CHAPTER 10

Lisa was awake and rolling around in her bed. She hadn’t slept very well. This was a big day and she was feeling nervous. Today was going to be a huge decision day for Sam. She turned on her monitors and watched Sam sleeping in her bed. He looked like he was having no trouble sleeping. Of course, he didn’t know what was coming.

Her cell phone rang and she picked it up. “Hi Lisa it’s me,” Grace said. “I’m half way to your house.”

“Ok, I’ll wake up sleeping beauty and get him moving. See ya,” and she hung up. She picked up the stylish antique phone on the desk and dialed her room. The phone rang 3 times before Sam managed to roll over to the edge of the bed and pick up. “Morning sleepy head. How did you sleep?”

“Great,” he mumbled incoherently.

“Well up and at ‘em. I’ll come get you in half an hour. Oh, and dress for riding.”

“Ok,” he mumbled again.

Lisa watched him roll around in the bed for another minute before he finally tossed the covers back and got out. Lisa saw that he was still wearing his frilly, yellow pajamas. “I’ll have to get him into a negligee tonight. I’ll tell Marie to collect the pajamas for the dirty wash.”

Lisa got dressed for the day and then went to collect Sam. On the way downstairs Sam asked what was on the day’s schedule. “Same as always,” Lisa said. “First is your riding lesson, then swimming, then riding and then swimming. What else do you want to do?”

“That sounds good to me.”

They walked into the little dining room and found Maggie and Lisa’s grandmother talking over a cup of coffee. Maggie was wearing her usual maid uniform, this one a classic black and white in satin. Grace was wearing a simple sheath dress suited for business. “Good morning kids,” Grace said cheerfully.

Maggie stood and pushed back from the table, “How would you like your eggs?”

“Sunnyside up.”

“Over easy. Grandmother, what are doing here?” Lisa asked.

“What? Can’t I come visit my favorite granddaughter and her friend?” Grace tried to sound light and hurt at the same time. It didn’t work.

“It’s Monday, grandmother. What’s up?” Lisa asked suspiciously.

Grace chuckled and conceded, “I can’t fool you can I? Actually I came to speak with Sam.”

Sam’s ears perked up and his eyes opened wide, “What?”

Grace stood and walked over to Sam. She placed her hand on his shoulder and half asked and half directed him. “Sam would you come talk with me a moment, please?”

Sam’s pulse jumped up as he quietly walked alongside Grace. She led him to Mona’s study and after he entered, she shut the door. “This can’t be good,” he thought. Grace seated herself behind Mona’s desk and Sam sat in front. It looked like another interview to Sam. “Sam, I really like you,” she started.

“I’m getting fired,” he thought.

“I have two favors to ask you. Let me get right to the first. We have a photo shoot scheduled for tomorrow at the office. I got a call last night that one of the boys fell off his motorcycle this weekend and skinned himself pretty badly. So, we are short one model. I was going to call in a temp, but I thought as long as we were getting a temp, why not keep it in the family. Would you be interested in helping us out and doing some modeling tomorrow? It pays $250.”

Sam was totally relieved. He wasn’t getting fired. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind helping out. But I don’t know what Lisa has planned for tomorrow.”

“I do,” Grace said. “She wants to go riding. The shoot is in the afternoon and we need you there no later than 10 o’clock. Maybe you can get up early and go riding.”

“I’ll ask her,” Sam offered.

“Wait, before you do that I have one other favor to ask you. And this one is huge.” Grace leaned back and took a deep breath. “First, I need to explain things a little. This Saturday we are having a dinner party. It will be very fancy and some very important people are going to be here. It will be a nice opportunity for you to meet some interesting people.”

Grace paused for a moment and Sam decided to help, “But …?” he said.

“But it just got complicated,” Grace answered. “Some additional people are coming. They were invited but they originally declined due to some travel considerations. Now they can make the party. Here’s the situation Sam, we are very close to settling an extremely important contract with these people. They and our company are the principals, but there are many different parties involved. Now here comes the complication, their grandson likes Lisa. In fact, likes is too weak of a word. He is infatuated with her.”

The pit of Sam’s stomach dropped like a stone. He was going to get fired. He was going to be told to take a hike and leave Lisa alone. He wasn’t good enough for this family. How could he have been so stupid as to think he had a future with Lisa after what he had seen here? She was just way out of his league.

Grace could read Sam’s face and she immediately new what he was thinking. “Don’t get concerned, Sam. She hates this boy. She likes you and she likes you a lot. And so do I. That’s not what this is about. I’m not asking you to leave.”

Back from the edge of the precipice. The look on his face didn’t change, but he felt a bit of hope growing in his heart.

“Do you understand what I just said,” Grace asked. “That Lisa really likes you?”

“Yeah,” he said a bit too quietly.

“It’s true Sam. But let me finish my story and then I think you will understand what is going on here. As long as these people think their grandson has a chance with Lisa, they’re going to be cooperative on this major project. This isn’t unusual at our family level. We sometimes seal business relationships with personal relationships.”

Sam’s stomach started sinking again. He couldn’t help it. His mind was racing way faster than Grace’s little speech.

“So it would be a little awkward if Lisa were to introduce you to these people. They might back out of this deal, and it is way too important to allow that to happen.”

“So I’m not invited?” Sam asked. It was a snub, but one he could live with. And this business deal did sound important.

“Not at all Sam. Lisa has been looking forward to having you at this dinner, and I want you there also. But we can’t take a chance on the Hendersons getting upset. I’m afraid, no I’m certain, that if Lisa introduces her boyfriend at this dinner, our deal is dead.”

Sam was way ahead of her, “So I’m to be a cousin or something?” Whew! He could live with that. This wasn’t such a big favor after all. He didn’t mind.

“That won’t work, I’m afraid,” Grace said. “The Hendersons and us have been good friends back two generations. They know all of our relatives and we know all of theirs. No, we have to do something else.”

Sam gave her a quizzical look and a shrug of his shoulders. He didn’t have any other ideas.

Grace looked carefully at Sam, and for some reason a shiver ran down his spine. “There is one thing that I think will work,” she said and then paused for effect. “I don’t think there would be any problem if Lisa introduced you as her college roommate.” Grace stopped and looked at Sam.

Sam wasn’t putting 2 plus 2 together very quickly. “But she lives in a sorority, and her roommate is a girl. Wouldn’t they know that?”

“Yes they would.” Grace said no more and waited for Sam to piece the puzzle together. When he figured it out Grace could see it in his facial expression. The shock in his facial expression was almost too much for her. She managed to stifle a laugh, but she couldn’t stop a smile from turning up the corners of her mouth. “Do you understand now?”

Sam gulped. “Yeah, I think so. You want me to dress up as a girl. As Lisa’s female roommate. Right?”

“Exactly. Now I know this is a huge favor to ask, and I know it sounds way too daunting to even try. But we have access to people that can make this possible. They can train you and make you into a thoroughly convincing co-ed. Trust me; I know you can pull it off.”

Sam gulped again and fear began rising in his chest. He said nothing and just looked at Grace.

“I would consider this a huge personal favor Sam. And I’m sure Lisa would appreciate your efforts as well. I know that she has been planning for weeks to take you to this dinner party. She even has a tuxedo picked out already. But Sam, I can’t see any other way of doing this. I know I shouldn’t be putting business ahead of Lisa and you, but this is one time that I just have no choice. I am asking you to do it for me, and even more importantly I am asking you to do it for Lisa. Would you please dress as Lisa’s roommate for the party this weekend? Please?”

After that little speech how could he say no? On the other hand how could he say yes? This was absurd. This was crazy. How could he convince a room full of people that he was a real girl? “I don’t know if I can do it,” he said. “Not that I don’t want to do it, I would, but these people will know. I’m sure of it.”

“And I am sure of just the opposite. Look Sam, you’re not going to put on a dress Saturday afternoon, and waltz into the party and pass as a real girl. I know that. You are going to have to practice. Here is what I was thinking; you and Lisa enjoy your riding and swimming and do whatever you want during the day. But the rest of the week we have a full dress rehearsal every night for dinner. You dress fully as you would Saturday, make-up and everything, so that you can get used to the feel and the movement of your clothes.

Maggie is very good with make-up and she can help you there.

“Mona and Lisa can work together and show you how to walk and stand and sit and eat and talk and all of the little nuances of being a girl. You don’t have to pass as a practiced southern belle. If push comes to shove, we can tell people that you’re from New York. They might not like Yankees here, but as a guest of Lisa’s that will gain you many pardons.

“I admit this won’t be easy, and you will have to put in some serious effort and practice to pull it off, but consider Lisa. She was so looking forward to this party, and I honestly can’t see any other way of getting you there. Please, Sam. Come Saturday I’ll bring in the best makeup and hair artist that we have. We will turn you into such a stunning beauty that people will be afraid to even speak to you. Will you consider it? Will you do it?”

Again, how could he say no? Sam nodded and in a squeaky little voice he said, “Yes. I’ll do it.”

“That away, Sam!” Grace congratulated him. “You will never regret this. I’ll make sure of that. Now, let’s call Lisa and give her the news.” Sam stared ahead as Grace picked up the phone and called the kitchen.

It took only a moment for Lisa to show up. As soon as she saw Sam’s face she knew there was a problem. “What’s wrong?” she asked with all the compassion she could muster.

“Nothing is wrong,” Grace said. “Please take a chair and let me explain.”

Lisa jumped into the nearest chair but did not settle into it. Instead she sat on the edge where she could get a better look at Sam’s face. “What’s going on?” she asked again. Grace didn’t send any clues to Lisa. She wanted Lisa’s emotions and reactions to be as real as possible. They had agreed to this.

“Sam has generously agreed to do some modeling for us. Our contracted model fell off his motorcycle and tore himself up.”

“Great. When?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Grandma,” Lisa began whining.

But before she could go any further Grace interrupted her with, “Lisa!” Grace used just as whiney a voice. “You’re 20 years old and no longer a little girl. That isn’t going to work on me any longer.”

“But we wanted to go riding tomorrow.”

“Get up earlier,” Grace said with no compassion.

Lisa frowned and then turned to Sam, “Is she paying you?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred and fifty dollars.”

She turned back to Grace, “When is the shoot?”

“Two to four tomorrow afternoon.”

“And when does he have to be there?” she asked smugly.

“I told him we need him there no later than 10 o’clock.”

“That’s more than a half day. Two fifty is scale for a half day. You have to pay him for a full day, five hundred.”

Grace and Sam just stared at Lisa. She had her arms folded and a look on her face that said she wasn’t going to change her mind. After her initial surprise Grace laughed. “Ok, you win. Sam, you get five hundred.

“Now the second item we discussed is this Saturday’s dinner party.”

Lisa couldn’t help herself and once again she whined, “Grandmother, that was going to be a surprise.”

Grace gave her a hard stare and continued. “I am sorry but some things have changed. The Hendersons have decided they can make it, and we have an extremely important contract on the line.”

Lisa interrupted, “Is Ding-Dong going to be there?”

With utmost restraint Grace looked her in the eye and said, “No, Robert will not be there.”

“Good! He’s a total whacked out creep.”

Sam snickered and Grace leaned forward across the desk towards Lisa. “Robert is not a whacked out creep,” she said sternly.

“Yes he is grandmother, and you know it.” She returned the comment back as hard as Grace had served it. “He’s mega ugly and stupid to boot.”

Grace eased up just a bit. “He is not stupid, but I will give you the fact that he looks like the union from incestuous goats.”

Sam couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. Both Lisa and Grace leaned back in their chairs and smiled. “When your right your right,” Grace told Lisa.

“But we’ve still got a major problem. They think Robert has a chance at your hand and ...”

Lisa interrupted her, “Not in a million!”

“And we don’t want to destroy that fantasy by you showing up with Sam.”

“You mean I can’t bring Sam? No! That’s unacceptable. You tell the Hendersons to …”

“Lisa shut up!” Grace yelled. The room went dead quiet and Lisa glared at her grandmother. “That is not what I was going to say. You had better start watching your manners in front of me young lady. I will not tolerate childish tirades. Do I make myself clear?” she demanded. Lisa did not answer immediately. “Lisa?”

“Yes, and I am sorry for that outburst.”

“Thank you. Apology accepted. Now please hear me out. We have an extremely important contract on the line with them, and I cannot afford to upset them at such a delicate moment in negotiations. So I have asked Sam for another favor. I asked him if he would go as your roommate.”

“Huh?”

“Your roommate. I have asked him if he would dress as a girl and pretend that he is your roommate at college.”

“But grandmother, that’s not fair to him. He shouldn’t have to do that just because Robert is an ugly creep and his parents are so delusional that they think their creepy little skunk doesn’t stink so bad that he has a chance to date me. I don’t want to ask Sam to do something like that just so I can take him to a party that by all rights he should be on the honored guest list. I mean this just …”

“Lisa! He has said yes.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“He seems to have a much cooler head on his shoulders than someone else does.”

“Really?” she asked Sam a second time.

“Yep.”

“Wow. So what do we do grandmother?”

“Rehearse. Starting tonight he, you both, should begin dressing for dinner. This isn’t going to be easy, and I sure don’t want the Hendersons to see through our subterfuge. You two go riding today and leave the planning to me. Enjoy your day, but tonight plan on dressing formal for dinner. Is that ok?”

The two kids looked at one another with a WTF expression written over their faces, but they both said yes. “Oh grandmother, one other thing,” Lisa said. “I think this makes Sam family, don’t you?” Grace said nothing. “I think his pay tomorrow should be the same as you pay me for a full day; one thousand.”

“You vamp! You get that from your mother no doubt. Ok. Sam, one grand it is,” and she shooed them out of the study.

The Samantha Project - Chapter 11-15

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Illustrated

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. As Sam begins practicing for his favor, and (unwittingly) for his future life as a girl, doubts begin to surface; but Lisa is prepared with a surefire solution.

Femdom, crossdressing, hair and hair salon, corseting, heels, appliances attached, sex, illustrations.

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

CHAPTER 11

Lisa and Sam went riding, had lunch and then went swimming. Lisa received at least half a dozen phone calls from both Mona and Grace concerning their feminization plans. It was going to be a grand and wonderful week they all agreed. Mona handled her assignments and just couldn’t wait to get started. She told Lisa she would be home early.

Sam, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about the coming week. From his comments, one would have thought he was actually dreading his coming transformation. And maybe he was, but Lisa didn’t care. Sam had essentially said yes to the rest of his life. He just didn’t realize it yet.

It was almost 4 o’clock when the two kids came walking up from the pool. They were chatting and neither was paying attention to anything except each other. They were carrying empty glasses, suntan lotion and their beach wraps. They reached the upper patio and found Mona waiting for them. Her eyes went straight to Sam’s crotch and a scowl crossed her face.

Sam quickly set his things on a nearby table and pulled his beach wrap over himself. It wasn’t a heavy fabric and it was semi-shear. Mona looked at his crotch for a few moments and then she looked him in the eye. “If you’re going to wear a suit, it is proper to wear the entire suit and not just the parts that you prefer,” she said as she then returned her gaze to his crotch and the bulge in his suit. If nothing else, Mona believed in being direct. Subtlety certainly wasn’t her forte.

Mona turned her gaze to Lisa and said, “I’ve picked up some things today, and I had Marie take them up to Harriet’s old bedroom. You two go get cleaned up and then give me a call. I’ll meet you in Harriet’s room.” Her voice had unfrozen as she began talking about the coming transformation. “Lisa, give Sam some clean panties and a robe to change into.” She spun on her heels and walked back inside.

Sam looked at Lisa and shuddered, “I’m not so sure about this anymore. Lisa, your mother doesn’t like me, and it’s as plain as day. I am not looking forward to being dressed by her. Don’t I have some say in this?”

“Not really,” she thought gleefully.

“I know mom can be rather harsh at times. In her defense, she is a hard driven executive. But let me talk with her and see if we can’t minimize her direct contact in this. Would that make you feel better?”

“Please,” he pleaded.

Lisa did talk with Mona and she did agree to tone down her enthusiasm. But once again she had managed to reinforce her bad cop image. They were sure that it would be useful in some future situations.

After their showers, Mona met them in Harriet’s room. She smiled and spoke much softer to try and put Sam a little more at ease. “First off, I want to thank you for doing this Sam. I know this is a huge sacrifice and even a bit traumatizing. If we work at this, if we practice hard every night this week, I have no doubt that we can fool the Hendersons. But it won’t be easy. Becoming a pretty college girl is going to be very tedious and hard work for you. So up front I want to say, thank you.”

Sam gave a little nod and said, “You’re welcome.”

“Here is our plan for tonight. Lisa, I set out some things that I bought; some foundation things for Sam to start with. Go through Harriet’s clothes and find a bra that will fit Sam. On the bed there are two sets of breast forms; a small and a big. Pick out whichever size that you want. I also brought home a corset. Use that to get Sam’s waist as tiny as possible. It has garters attached, so use regular suntan stockings. When you are done with that, put on a robe and call Maggie. She will come up and help with Sam’s make-up. Ok?”

Heads nodded so Mona took that as a positive sign. She closed the door behind her as she left. “That was better, wasn’t it?” Lisa asked.

“A little,” Sam admitted. But she still intimidated him.

“Let’s get started.” Lisa began going through Harriet’s dresser. She found a white underwire bra with a nice décolletage of lace. “Try this on.”

Sam slipped off his robe and found himself standing in front of his girlfriend wearing nothing but panties. He couldn’t help what happened next. He tried to twist around and cover up but he couldn’t stop his penis from thinking this was sexual. Lisa glanced at his crotch and noticed the growing bulge in Sam’s panties. It was a great sign, and she smiled gently at Sam. She knew it was going to pop out of the panty waist band at any moment, so she picked up a towel and handed it to Sam and he quickly wrapped it around his waist. To put him at ease she gave him a kiss.

“In a kinky sort of way, I find this kind of exciting, too,” she said. “Who knows, maybe we will end up real roommates.” That helped calm some of Sam’s jitters, if not his erection.

Sam held out his arms at Lisa’s request and she slid the bra straps up his arms. When the bra was snug against his chest, she fastened it behind him. Then she slid the little adjustment on each strap up and down until she thought she had it fitting Sam comfortably and correctly. “How does it feel?”

“I think it will stay in place.”

“Good. Next, do you want big breasts or little breasts?”

“Let me see these things,” he said as he popped the lid off a couple of boxes. “They all look pretty big. Which ones are closest to your size?”

“You want to be as big as me, do ya?” she teased.

“Just as big and just as pretty,” he answered.

“Aww, you do know how to compliment a girl. I would suggest the smaller size for tonight. If you want we can try the larger size tomorrow.”

“That makes sense. So how do we handle these things?”

“With tender loving care, just like any set of tits,” Lisa laughed. Sam’s smile widened. Lisa was relaxing him and bringing him into the right frame of mind. Mona and Maggie were watching their monitor and both swelled with pride for Lisa. She certainly knew how to manipulate her boy.

Lisa slid the breast forms into Sam’s bra cups and gave them an appreciative squeeze. “How does that feel?”

Sam bounced lightly on the balls of his feet and felt the extra weight shake up and down. “Interesting. A little heavier than I would have imagined. And a bit loose. If I bounce too much they feel like they will fall out. They don’t feel real secure to my chest.”

“We can fix that. They can be glued on.”

“Really? With what?”

“Super glue. They won’t come off at all — ever. Guaranteed,” she said with an impish grin.

“They’d better,” he warned. “But if we’re going to pull this off I think we might need the glue.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But if we are going to pull this off, one of the most important factors is that you have to feel totally comfortable. For that reason alone we should use glue.”

“Really now, how long does the glue last?”

“Forever too long for you?”

“Yeah. Come on Lisa, tell me.”

“Up to a full week, I’ve heard. I’ve never worn them so I’m not sure. But you can remove them with solvent whenever you want.”

“Do you have glue?”

“Yes, mom bought some. Do you want to use it tonight?”

“Full dress rehearsals, remember?”

“Wait, you have hair on your chest. It will pull like the dickens when we peel them off. You have to shave your chest first.”

Sam just sighed. “Well, if I have to …” he said tiredly.

“Wait. You’re going to model tomorrow. Male models shave their chest. Just wait until tomorrow and the salon will do it for you.”

Sam hemmed and hawed for a minute then agreed that would be easiest route. Another thought popped into his head, “Will I have to shave my legs?”

“Yes, you should. But you can do that tomorrow also. I’ll have the salon wax your legs.”

“Wax? Do I have to?”

“It’s the best way to go. No matter how close you shave, in a day or two you can feel the stubble. But with waxing, when your hair begins growing out it is soft and not bristly at all. I strongly recommend it over shaving.” Sam quickly agreed. Lisa was beginning to realize that even if Sam didn’t want to be turned into a girl, he had agreed to this deal and he was going to give the effort his complete cooperation. She actually felt proud of him.

Lisa held up a white piece of cloth that looked like a tube. “What’s that?” Sam asked.

“A corset liner. It will protect your skin from irritation and chafing from the corset you will have to wear.”

Sam took it from Lisa and examined it. It almost looked like a girl’s tube top. It was made from a very silky material and felt slippery. There was a strip of spandex on each end and a single seam running down what was ostensibly the back. There was a red thread sewn inside to signify the back seam since it was actually very small.

“Step into it and pull it up to your waist,” Lisa instructed. Sam followed her instructions, being careful to make sure the seam was in his back.

Lisa picked up the corset and wrapped it around Sam. Standing in front of him she fastened the busks. The male “ball” was on the left side and hooked into the female clasp on the right. Sam stood in place as she stepped behind him and reached up under the corset. “I’m making sure this flap is lying flat under the cords. It will keep them from cutting into you. With the flap carefully placed, Lisa started pulling the slack out of the laces. When she had taken up the loose slack she ordered Sam to raise his hands over his head. “It helps narrow your abdomen so we can pull it tighter. On your tippy-toes and stretch hard, reach for the sky cowboy! Now exhale all the way out.” Sam followed her instructions and Lisa pulled the cords as tight as she could. “Hold it,” she said while she tied the cords into a tight knot. She didn’t have to tell him to relax, as he sucked in a giant breath and fell back onto his heels.

“Wow, that’s tight,” he complained.

“Sorry, but that’s the way it has to be. You need a tiny waist to make your hips and breasts look larger. It’s the symmetry and flow of the curves that make girls look so feminine. The hips and boobs seduce the boy,” she uttered in a soft sing-song voice. Lisa surprised herself. She almost began to think of this transformation in terms of endearment and romance for her chosen partner.

“I don’t think I can bend over,” he said while at the same time he attempted to touch his toes. He couldn’t come close, as the tight corset held him upright. “What if I have to tie my shoes?”

“You won’t have any shoe laces. But you may have to bend over for some other reason and we’ll show you how to do that later. Sit on the bed and I’ll help you with your stockings. Do you know how to put on nylons?”

“I’ve seen it done. You roll them up in your hands and then unroll them up your leg. But I can’t reach my toes.”

“I know. I’ll roll them up your leg and then you can fasten the garter. Have you ever done that before?”

“No, but I’ve seen it done. Or at least I’ve seen it undone.”

“Where?”

“Bull Durham. Kevin Costner popped them right off Susan Sarandon’s legs.”

Lisa smiled and just looked at Sam. “Good movie, wasn’t it?”

“Fantastic. I was laughing hysterically before the beginning credits even finished.” Lisa looked at him and couldn’t help but think about what a remarkable boy she had chosen. He was going to be perfect for her.

She rolled the stockings up his leg and he easily fastened them to his garters. “Next?” he asked.

“I guess we do your make-up. Let me call mom.” Lisa saw Sam squirm when Lisa mentioned her mom.

“Lisa, I have a problem with your mom. I have to be honest. I feel terribly uncomfortable standing here in panties with her looking at me. You I don’t mind, but your mom is different.”

“I understand,” and she really did. She started digging through Harriet’s dresser until she found what she wanted. It was a short-short pair of sweat pants. “Put these on, and I’ll call her.”

“Thanks.”

Mona arrived with Maggie, who was carrying a large basket. Mona looked at Sam’s shorts and decided to say nothing. She looked Sam over once more and pronounced him satisfactory. “Good beginning Sam. Before we go to any more clothing, let’s give you a make-over. Maggie is exceptional with makeup. I’ll turn you over to her.” Mona turned to Maggie and said, “Call me when you’re done and we’ll get our debutante into a dress.”

Mona left and Maggie walked Sam over to Harriet’s vanity. Maggie glanced at Lisa and asked, “Would you mind sitting over there, please?” Lisa went over to the bed and jumped on it. She fluffed up the pillows, propped them against the headboard and leaned back to watch the makeover.

Maggie pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Sam. She set her large basket on the vanity and then she looked into Sam’s eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird.”

“Scared?”

“A little.”

“Do you think you can pull this off?”

“Man, I’m not sure.”

“Do you want to?”

There was a long pause with that question. Some other thoughts were rolling around in Sam’s head. Maggie didn’t wait for an answer. “Let me help you. This is the weirdest thing you have ever heard of, let alone done. You like Lisa (I presume), but you’re scared. Your scared because she is pretty, she is smart (I’m a bit prejudiced of course), and you think she likes you. You on the other hand really like her but she’s got so much family money that she might be beyond your reach. You’re not really that keen on doing this, but you like her so much you would do almost anything to gain her acceptance.” She paused for a second to let that sink in. “Am I close?”

Sam would have crumpled forward if it hadn’t been for his tight corset. A tear slowly coursed down his cheek. “You’re more than close,” he said as he tightly closed his eyes. Lisa was amazed. More than amazed, she was starting to have some real feelings about the situation.

“I figured as much,” Maggie said kindly. She touched Sam’s chin with her fingers and raised his head so that he was looking directly at Maggie. In a voice so quiet that Lisa couldn’t hear what she was saying, Maggie talked directly to Sam’s soul. “What you are doing is one of the most unselfish acts of love that I have ever witnessed. Make no mistake that this is a sacrifice as noble as any ever given in free spirit. Sam, listen to what I am going to tell you; you are going to succeed beyond the imagination of any poet, romantic or critic, because there is only one reason you are doing this, and that reason is beyond the contempt of mere mortals. And for that reason, there is no doubt that you will put into this quest more effort and determination that anyone else can comprehend. No matter what happens, you will rise above any adversity that shall cross your path.

“Do you understand what I am telling you? Success is not of question here.”

Sam smiled at Maggie and at that moment wanted to hug and kiss her. Sam gathered his strength, straightened his shoulders and said, “Thank you Maggie, you are absolutely correct.”

“Ok then you beautiful caterpillar, we begin with a heavy foundation that will cover your beard. From now on, you will not shave until right before you dress.” Maggie took out a sponge and a tube of a heavy stage makeup. She began spreading it over Sam’s face. “This is a base that will be necessary to cover the stubble left after shaving. Some day down the road, after you discover how much you enjoy this, you might want to consider electrolysis. But that is a long way off.”

Maggie needed almost a full hour to turn her caterpillar into a butterfly. Maggie refused to let Sam look into the mirror until they were finished. “Sam, before you look in that mirror, I want you to think of something. Before you see what you have become, think of a name that you would like to use. What do you want Lisa to call you when she sees you like this?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. The easiest name that I can come up with is Samantha.”

Maggie patted his hand and said, “Ok then old Sam, take a look at the new Samantha.”

Sam turned around and gazed upon the new Samantha. He stared into the mirror for several seconds, turning his head to and fro as he tried to look at his image from as many angles as he could manage. Still staring into the mirror he quipped, “Maggie, I thought you were filling me full of dreams and fantasies. I appreciated the thought, but my reality mode just wasn’t buying it. But reality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I think we’re actually going to pull this off.” He started giggling like a little girl … or maybe that’s what he really thought he was.

“Good girl” Maggie said as she put most of her makeup back in her basket. She handed Sam the lipstick and told him to keep it with him. “This is lip plumping lipstick,” Maggie explained. “In the evening when you retire, I want you to wear this on your lips,” and she handed Sam another tube. “They aren’t going to give you Angela Jolie lips, but your lips are thin and will need all of the help they can get. Make sure to use both of them,” then Maggie left. Lisa came over and stood behind Sam who was still looking in the mirror. She looked at Sam’s reflection and even she was thrilled at what she saw.

“We’re going to pull this off Lisa,” Sam said.

“I know.”

Mona passed Maggie on the steps, “That was an amazing speech you gave up there.”

“Thank you ma’am. The boy was scared. I thought a little pep talk might boost him up.”

When Mona saw Sam, she became a true believer. Mona knew that Maggie had some talent, but she didn’t fully realize how much potential Sam had. Yes, he was going to need rhinoplasty, and cheekbone implants and a number of other cosmetic enhancements, but his native beauty had been brought out by Maggie. Sam had more potential than Mona had dreamed.

Of course Mona wasn’t the type to gush over a silly makeover. “You look nice Sam. Is it ok if we start calling you Samantha? I think you need to get used to it,” she rationalized. Sam nodded. “Lisa, you and Samantha need to go through Harriet’s closet and find a nice cocktail dress for this evening. You pick out what you want, but let me give you a suggestion and my reasoning.

“I would look for something with straps and a fairly deep neckline. The reason I suggest this, is because even though Sam has very realistic breasts, he doesn’t have much cleavage. I think we should see how low in neckline we can go before the view is obviously fake. And secondly, Sam gets a chance to feel what a lower neckline is like. He may or may not feel comfortable with it.”

“Ok, we’ll take a look,” Lisa said.

Mona reached the door and just before she left she said to Sam, “And don’t forget to tuck. That will be very important to your look.”

Before she could leave Sam spoke up, “Miss Mona, I have two comments. First, I haven’t shaved my chest, so if we go too low tonight I’m going to look fake just because of my hair.”

“That’s a good point Sam, but I think we can take that into consideration when we make our assessment.”

“And the other thing is tucking.” Sam blushed just a little but he continued on, “I don’t think these panties are tight enough by themselves to hold me tucked for a full evening.”

Mona looked at Sam, the cogs obviously turning in her head. “Lisa, go through Harriet’s stuff and find a panty girdle or something similar. That should be tight enough to hold Samantha for a full evening. What do you think?”

“I agree,” Lisa said.

“Is that ok with you Samantha?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Oh, something else. I was going to come back to help, but there is no reason the two of you can’t handle it by yourself. Pick out one of Harriet’s wigs, and add some tasteful jewelry to your outfit. Lisa, see if one of you has a nice watch for Samantha. OK? You kids enjoy, and I’ll see you for cocktails.”

Lisa went searching through Harriet’s dressers until she found a hipster panty girdle. Harriet probably used it to tuck in a fat rear end when she was wearing tight jeans, Sam imagined. He pulled them on and tucked himself between his legs. “These will hold me just fine. Do I look acceptable?”

“You sure do. Let’s get you a pretty dress to go over those sweet curves of yours.”

It took only a few minutes to find that evening’s dress. It wasn’t a difficult choice, because they knew they were only firing for range. They could focus in on better styles in the next couple of nights. Lisa found the proper length slip, and then Sam tried on his dress. It was a back-zip dress featuring a champagne surplice bodice with black spaghetti straps, a seamed empire waist and a black pleated skirt. Lisa picked out a pair of strappy, black 3 inch stiletto heels, and Sam picked out a long blonde wig.

Sam was a bit unsteady on the heels, and he had to be careful when he first started out. He had already been on 3 inch heels that week, but those were platform heels, and these shoes were not as forgiving to a misstep. He didn’t want to twist an ankle right off the bat. Lisa led him back to her room where they found a nice watch for his left wrist, and a matching gold bracelet for his right.

“You need to get your ears pierced,” Lisa told him as she searched through her jewelry box for clip-ons.” The search was to no avail.

Lisa looked at her new Sam and led him over to her full length mirror. “What do you think?”

“I think the front of this dress is too low.”

“Me too, but I don’t think we have to go too much higher.”

“What do you think? How do I look,” Sam asked with more than a slight amount of apprehension.

“I think you look hot!” and she gave him a little peck on the cheek. “Mustn’t mess the make-up,” she explained. “Shall we go downstairs for inspection?”

“I guess,” he said reluctantly.

“Nervous?” He nodded yes. “That’s another reason why we’re doing these rehearsals. You’ll be perfectly relaxed by Saturday.”

When they reached the bottom of the stairs they were met by Maggie and Mona. “Nice,” Mona mumbled as she circled around Sam. “You have nice looking legs. We need to pull your waist in tighter. Your arms are maybe a bit too muscular, but we can tell people that you’re a swimmer. Your make up is great, and you have a beautiful face, Samantha.” Mona continued circling looking Sam up and down. “We need to get your ears pierced. The dress is too low in front, but that was what we wanted to see. You need more cleavage to pull off a dress like this one.” Around she walked and continued making verbal notes,” I don’t think you’re a blond, but that style isn’t bad. I think you look good in long curly hair. I was thinking you were a bang girl, but now I’m not sure. All in all, I like it.”

Mona returned to Maggie and asked her for her opinion. “Very nice,” she complimented Sam. “Samantha, I agree with most of the things that Mona mentioned, but I see one item that just doesn’t seem quite right. I’m not sure if something needs to be done about it, but in this dress you show your shoulders. You have a nice tan started, but there are no white stripes to show where your bikini straps were.”

“A lot of girls tan with their straps pulled down or untied,” Sam explained.

“Not proper Southern girls,” Mona said coldly.

“Well Miss Grace suggested that I could tell everyone that I’m from the north and they would just have to forgive my awful faults,” he said boldly.

Sam’s tone was rather feisty, considering how he normally responded to Mona. Lisa and Maggie both picked up on the tone and they waited for Mona’s response. Mona smiled ever so slightly and said, “I guess you can do that.” It wasn’t what she said, but the tone of her response. Mona had just given Sam some respect.

Sam was certainly surprised by the tone of voice also; pleasantly surprised. But it was all part of the plan. Samantha was going to receive much more respect from Mona than Sam ever received. It was right there on Mona’s list, locked away in her study; “Respect Samantha; nag Sam.”

Maggie took a step forward to claim attention and said, “I have set up a make-shift studio in the main hall. We want to get a nice picture of the new Samantha. This way please.” Maggie took them to the front hall where he had a pair of studio lights on tripods, sitting on either side of the curving staircase. Each light had a soft opaque shade covering it so as to minimize harshness. “Samantha, please take you place in front of the stairs.” Maggie picked up an ultra-expensive large format digital camera and stepped in front of Samantha while she made a few adjustments.

“Close-ups first. Just give me a soft smile with teeth.” Maggie took a few shots, checked them in the viewer, then twisted her lens to a wider angle. “Now we need some posing. Lisa, give us a pose please.”

Lisa placed one foot in front of the other, slipped her hip down, placed her hand on her hip with her elbow pointing back and dropped her other arm with her hand raised parallel to the floor. She shifted her shoulders back and pushed her breasts out just a little.

“Give me one of those,” Maggie instructed Sam. Sam did his best to duplicate the pose, while Maggie fired off a couple of shots. “Very good Samantha. Lisa give us one more pose.”

Lisa placed her feet together, put her arms behind her and looked up to the left at 45 °.

“The cutey pie one, eh? Samantha, see what you can do with that.”

Maggie took her pictures and then Mona ended the photo shoot. She took Sam by the arm and walked him to a large salon on the other side of the entrance hall. “We have a lot to do Samantha dear, and not much time. We can work on your walk later. For tonight I think you should just get used to standing around in heels. It can be very tiring.”

They stopped in the middle of the salon and Mona released Sam’s arm. Mona picked up a remote sitting on a nearby table, and then walked over to take a seat, leaving Sam by himself. “Tonight we will do a couple of things. I have a DVD on how to speak like a woman. I’ll play it and I want you to stay where you are and practice out loud with it.

“In the meantime you need to practice your posture. Posture is very important to your feminine image, and it is very difficult to maintain for long periods of time. In addition, you need to learn to sip champagne and eat hors d’oeurves. Again, neither is as easy as it looks. Lisa, please join Samantha.”

Lisa stepped over by Sam. “See how she is standing? Her shoulders are back and down, and her tummy is pulled in. She is standing with both feet together, although that can be adjusted later. She is keeping her elbows close to her sides.” Sam imitated Lisa’s stance.

“That’s good, Samantha. That is probably the easiest position for standing over a period of time. If you get tired of that, Lisa show her how to slip a hip and take the weight off one leg.” Lisa effortlessly slid her right foot out at a 45 ° angle and dropped her left hip. “Try that Samantha. Can you feel the difference?”

“Yep.”

“Go back to both feet together, and then slip out the other foot and drop your opposite hip.” Sam did as he was instructed and Mona watched approvingly. “Excellent Samantha. Now, it gets a bit awkward holding your hands at your side all of the time. Two things you will not do are cross your arms or rest a hand on a hip. That is for models only. Instead, you can hold your hands together in front of you and down, like Lisa is showing you, or you can clasp them together and hold them higher in front of you. You never hold them any higher than the bottom of your breasts. Please try it Samantha.”

Sam quickly ran through the positions. He received another attaboy from Mona. “One last thing and then you can start your voice lessons. Maggie will be serving you champagne and crackers. Hors d’oeurves are for guests and we rarely accept the servant’s offer. However, there are exceptions to everything, and sometimes you are just thirsty. Samantha, remember at all times that you are wearing lipstick. Lipstick smears and comes off on things. When drinking and nibbling, be dainty. Use a minimum of lip pressure when biting or sipping. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Fine. The DVD is 45 minutes long and that is how long you must stand there. Use the standing positions that Lisa has shown you, and never slump. Maggie will step over every so often and offer you a cracker or drink. Accept her offer and eat and drink very daintily. I’ll control the DVD for you. Are you ready?”

Sam shifted into a feet together pose with his hands by his side. Mona started the DVD and Sam began listening. It wasn’t far into the tape that he had to begin imitating the speaker, urging his vocal cords to work farther back in his throat and yet try to look as normal as possible. It wasn’t easy.

“A, E, I, O, U. Bar, car, far, gar, par, star.” The speaking wasn’t easy and it quickly tired his vocal cords. Maggie entered the room with a tray of saltine crackers and Mona stopped the DVD. Sam shifted his posture as Maggie approached him.

“Nice move, Samantha,” Mona critiqued.

“Would you like an appetizer ma’am?” Maggie asked formally while offering the tray to Sam.

“Dainty,” Mona coached. Sam picked up the cracker and said thank you. “You don’t have to thank the help, but it does show people how courteous you are. But don’t do it at the expense of a conversation with one of the guests. Take a bite of the cracker.”

Sam took a bite and that is when Mona walked over to him. “Show me the cracker please.” Sam held it in his open palm and Mona picked it up by the corners. She pointed to the cracker and politely said, “See the lipstick here?” She flipped it over and showed Sam the lipstick on the other side. “You used too much lip pressure. If you eat correctly, you will leave no lipstick on your food.”

“But I was afraid that the cracker would break and crumble on the floor.”

“Perfectly understandable. In that case, hold your other hand under the cracker, but as low as you feel comfortable, we mustn’t give the impression that we are shoveling it in our mouth. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good, let’s do it again.”

Maggie offered Sam a cracker, Sam accepted and took a bite while holding his other hand low and under the cracker. “Show me the cracker,” Mona instructed. She inspected the cracker and found only a tiny bit of lipstick. “Very good Samantha dear. Now let’s make it a little tougher. Do you have the lipstick that Maggie gave you?”

“Here it is mom,” and Lisa handed it to Mona.

“You might as well learn how to apply it also. Walk over here and stand in front of this mirror while you apply it. Remember, dainty. Everything is slow and dainty. You are a beautiful woman of high social standing. Servants must move fast, but never you.”

Sam pulled the top off the lipstick, rolled it out and carefully applied it to first his top and then bottom lip. Then he rubbed his lips together to smooth out the color.

“No, you don’t smash your lips together, and smear it all over. Trollops do that when they are trying to arouse a man. But we are not a trollop, are we?”

“No ma’am, I don’t think I am.”

“You’re not Samantha. Trust me. You have just placed your lipstick exactly where you need it on your lips. Only if a little glob comes off do you need to rub your lips together. And if you do, keep it limited to just what is necessary. It is better to do it twice for just a second, than once for a couple of seconds. Understand?” Mona was being exceptionally nice as she taught Sam.

Again Sam accepted his lesson in the spirit it was given and thanked Mona.

“Ok, back to the center of the room. Pretend you are standing there listening to the most exciting conversation that you have ever heard. Remember, no matter how boring a man may be, he deserves your full and rapt attention. Now, back to your lessons,” and Mona hit the play button to start up the voice lesson.

And so for one full hour Mona and Maggie worked with Sam, teaching him the finer points of being a beautiful, feminine woman, as well as a gracious guest. By the end of the hour Sam was getting tired. His tight corset was especially troublesome as it was not only tight and bothersome, but it was giving him a backache.

“Dinner is served,” Maggie announced.

Lisa took Sam’s arm and walked by his side on the way to the large dining room. “How are you doing?”

“It’s tougher than it looks. My back hurts and my vocal cords are really strained.”

“How about your feet and calves? Are the high heels bothering you?”

“Not really,” he reported.

“Wow, that’s good. Maybe we can move you up to 4 inch heels tomorrow. How would that be?”

“If that’s what you think I need to wear, then I’ll do it.”

In the dining room Sam found the table set up for a very formal meal. He had never seen so many utensils laid out by each plate, and there were three glasses per plate. Before anyone sat, Mona said, “Keep using your girl voice, Samantha. Can you do that?”

“It’s really tiring out my vocal cords. But I’ll try.”

“I understand,” she said sympathetically. “We will keep your speaking to a minimum. But please try to use your female voice. Ok, Lisa, show us all how to sit.”

The meal was long, slow and filled with instructions from Mona and Lisa. Maggie served the meal much as the maids would do on Saturday, and Sam learned the social niceties of dining with VIP guests.

After the long meal, they moved back to the salon for more standing and voice lessons. This time Sam didn’t have to participate along with the DVD. Mona merely played a second installment and Sam listened along as he practiced sipping sherry and delicately nibbling little dessert crackers.

At 10:00 Mona mercifully concluded the evening’s lesson. Everyone was tired, most of all Sam. Mona wrapped up the evening with a little summary of the most important lessons that Samantha was supposed to take away from the evening. Then she passed out Sam’s next set of instructions.

“Getting used to your role isn’t just what we showed you here tonight. The most important thing is feeling comfortable in that role. If you’re constantly fidgeting or stalling while you think of the correct response to something, people will read you. Everything has to be reflexive and natural to you.

“Being comfortable in your clothes is a very important part of that. We will help make sure that every thing you wear fits you properly, but you have to get used to the tug of bra straps on your shoulder, and the tightness of your corset. It is up to you, but I strongly suggest that you wear your corset and bra to bed. You might find it a little strange, but it helps reinforce that comfort factor. But that is totally up to you, Samantha.

“Finally, tomorrow’s schedule; Maggie will drive you into town. You will leave at 9. Dress anyway you want; you can go as Sam or Samantha. That is totally up to you. Lisa says that you will have to have your chest and legs waxed tomorrow, and then the makeup girls will prepare you for your photo shoot.

“After the shoot, I want you to come back here and dress for another evening rehearsal. Pick out another style dress, something with a little higher décolletage I think. And try and practice your female voice as often as possible tomorrow. That’s important.

“Any questions? Ok girls, off to bed.” Sam and Lisa started to walk out of the salon, but Mona remembered something and quickly called them back. “Samantha, I forgot to say something.” She waited just a moment to make sure she had everyone’s attention. “Samantha, I would just like to say, thank you. This is a big imposition on you and yet you have shown no reluctance or complaining at all. I very much appreciate how open and cooperative you have been to everything we have asked of you. And I know that you will be totally successful Saturday night.

“I really appreciate your positive attitude. I know that you and Lisa are giving up a lot of your private time together and I will find a way to make it up to you. I promise. Goodnight.”

The two kids climbed the steps up to Harriet’s room where Sam collapsed on the bed. He fell over backwards and stared up at the canopy. “I’m beat,” he announced. Lisa sat next to him and took off his shoes.

“How are your feet?” she asked kindly.

“Ok. Surprising well considering the heels and all that standing. But I’ll probably feel it all tomorrow.”

“I hate to prod you, but you probably shouldn’t lay in the dress very long.” She gave him a sympathetic look and offered him a hand. If you want to start undressing I’ll go back to my room and get your pajamas and robe. Then I can come back and show you how to remove your makeup. Ok?”

“Sure,” he said in a quiet and tired voice.

“By the way,” Lisa asked, “what do you think about mom’s idea to sleep in your bra and corset? To get more accustomed to them.”

“I don’t know,” he said with another tired sigh. “I suppose I could sleep with the bra on, but this corset is killing me.”

“I understand. I’ll be right back.” Lisa left and Sam began undressing. Lisa returned a few minutes later and handed a rose colored robe and a blue satin negligee to Sam.

“Where are my pajamas?”

“Marie took them for washing. I didn’t know if you wanted pink pajamas or a blue negligee, so I guessed. Is this ok?”

“Sure,” Sam said. He sounded resigned to many of the things happening to him. He had stripped down to his corset, bra and panty girdle. “Can you help me with this corset? I really don’t want to wear it tonight.”

“Sure,” and Lisa quickly unlaced the corset and removed it from him, and Sam slid off his liner. His skin was a little red. “We need to moisturize your skin and apply a powder tomorrow, to make sure your skin doesn’t chafe.”

“Thanks,” a very tired Sam said.

“What about the bra?” Lisa asked.

“I can wear that tonight. Do I keep the tits?”

Lisa chuckled, “You mean the breast forms? Yes, I would recommend it.”

Sam bounced up and down a few times and squeezed his breasts. “They are fun. I can see why you girls make such a big deal out them.” He had just a little smirk when he said it.

“Us?” Lisa asked indignantly. “It’s not us girls that make a big deal out them, it’s you boys. You’re the ones that ogle and drool over them. It’s not us.”

“Yes it. You wear the tight sweaters and the push up bras to make them look bigger.”

“We do it strictly for you guys. We wouldn’t do any of that stuff if it was up to just us.”

Sam smiled and said, “This morning I would have bought that. But I just spent 5 hours wearing them. I know better.”

“Well, maybe there are some times that we like having them. But there are other times when they just get in the way. Just you wait and see. Try sleeping on your stomach tonight.”

“I will.” He grabbed Lisa and smashed his boobs into hers and pressed his lips into hers. Lisa responded by pushing their hips together and opening her lips to let Sam’s probing tongue slip in.

Lisa broke off the kiss after just a minute and said, “Let’s get your makeup off before you smear it all over me.” She looked in the mirror and saw Sam’s lipstick all over her mouth. “Too late. Come on, we can both get cleaned up.”

Lisa showed Sam how to carefully use makeup remover and how to keep it out of his eyes. She took him through the steps of makeup remover first and then moisturizer second. When he was clean she went out to the bedroom and brought back his negligee and robe. She handed both to him. “Don’t forget to put on your lip plumper,” she reminded him, and then closed the door behind her as she gave him some privacy.

When Sam came out of the bathroom he was wearing his negligee, robe and lip plumper. With the breast forms still on he looked like he had a very big chest. “You look cute,” Lisa said. “Let’s go back to your room and practice our anatomy by Braille.”

CHAPTER 12

“Wake up sleepy head. Time to make some money,” the way too cheerful voice said.

“What time is it?”

“Time to wake up.”

“Blah!”

“Is something wrong?” a concerned voice asked.

“No, I just didn’t sleep all that well.”

“Why not?”

“My boobs kept waking me up every time I tried to roll over.”

Now was not the time for an “I told you so”. “I really am sorry to hear that. But you will get used to them eventually. Anyway, we really do need to get moving.”

“What should I put on today?” Sam was almost dreading the answer.

“Just put on your normal jeans, polo shirt and sneakers. Come on down to the little dining room when you’re ready.”

“Thank god,” Sam thought to himself, as he hung up and headed for the shower.

Sam met Lisa and Maggie in the dining room and had a light breakfast before Maggie loaded them in the limo and took them downtown to the salon. Lisa took Sam to the front desk and introduced him to the pretty receptionist. She was a different girl from last Saturday. The new girl was extremely pretty and exotic looking. She had a lilting voice that sounded half Caribbean and half French. Her dark skin was absolutely blemish free, she had high cheekbones, large lips and a little button of a nose. The little nose really added to her exotic appearance. And on top of all that, her large, dark brown eyes glistened and almost seemed to peer into his soul.

Sam shook her hand and noticed how soft her skin was. At the same time he was surprised at how large and bony her hand was — as if she had no fat at all on her. She was very thin; her waist was as thin as a wasp’s, but on top she was well endowed. She had cleavage falling out of her push-up bra.

“Nice to meet you Sam. I’m Florence and I am here to help you today. You have a very busy schedule, and if there is anything you want or need, please ask for me.” Sam thought Florence was genuinely friendly.

“Gina will handle your waxing, and she is this way. Please follow me.”

Lisa pulled Sam aside, “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Am I going to need help?”

“No. I just don’t want to leave you on your own.”

“I should be ok. But thanks for the offer,” and he gave her a nice smile.

Florence took Sam to a private room with a gurney-like table in the middle. Around the side wall was a counter holding various odds and ends. Soft new era music was playing. Florence went in to a small closet and took out a terry cloth micro-skirt. At least that is what it looked like to Sam. “For modesty,” she said with a beautiful smile. Sam thought her teeth were the whitest he had ever seen. “Take off everything but your undershorts. When you’re ready, knock on the door and Gina will be waiting for you. Have a nice time,” she said pleasantly.

If it wasn’t for Lisa, Sam might have fallen in love. He removed his clothes and left only his panties. “I WISH I could strip down to my undershorts,” he mumbled softly. He pulled the “modesty” towel over his panties and knocked on the door. Once again, Sam was flabbergasted when he saw the waxing girl. Gina was another beautiful, exotic girl. As Sam later found out, she was from Thailand. She was much shorter than Florence, but just as thin and just as well endowed on top. Also like Florence, her skin was blemish free and looked absolutely radiant. “Where do they find these girls and why didn’t we come here on a weekday?” Sam asked himself.

He spent a comfortable two hours with Gina, listening to her hum along with the music. They chatted a little, but small talk wasn’t Sam’s forte, and Gina couldn’t keep it going by herself. She started with his legs and worked her way up to his thighs. She was so beautiful Sam couldn’t help himself. He tried to hide his erection with the little skirt Florence had given him, but he was unsuccessful.

Gina didn’t mind a bit. She playfully rubbed his penis through the terry cloth and said in her exotic voice. “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it is a wonderful compliment.” Wearing a beautiful smile and with no sarcasm or malice in her voice she politely asked, “Would you like me to leave for a few minutes?”

Although that was evidently not her intention, she did embarrass Sam. Sam turned red and mumbled, “No.”

“Would you like me to help?” Gina’s expression indicated that she was being totally helpful and had no other intentions in mind.

“What?” Sam was totally shocked. Never would he have expected such an offer. “No thank you,” he stammered. Gina continued the waxing and Sam eventually recovered his composure. “This is a full service salon, I guess,” he said.

“Not really,” Gina said quietly. “That was only my offer to you. If I offended you I apologize. Please don’t say anything to anyone else.”

“No, of course not,” Sam assured her.

Gina finished Sam’s legs, moved to his chest and finished up with his arm pits. “There, now you are ready for your shoot. Knock them dead, Sam.”

Sam said his goodbyes and walked out to the receptionist’s desk and found Florence. “All done?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer she pointed to a girl standing on the far side of the room, “Julia will handle your makeup. Come on,” and Florence proceeded to lead Sam over to his makeup artist.

By now, Sam shouldn’t have been surprised by Julia’s beauty, but she was so stunning that he just couldn’t help himself. Julia was the tallest of the 3 girls that he had met so far. In her platform heels she was almost 6 foot tall. She had gorgeous red hair that tumbled in a cascade of curls down past her shoulders. She had the most wonderful green eyes that Sam had ever seen. Just like the other girls, her complexion was perfect, her lips plump and her nose just a tiny little button. She was wearing a mini dress that started low, exhibiting some knock out cleavage, and ended high showing off athletic calves and finely shaped thighs.

Julia turned out to be Brazilian and had been living in the states for 18 months. Along with her cosmetology training, she was also a talented musician and dancer. Julia took only 30 minutes to brush some oil absorbing powder on his face, add just a touch of mascara to his lashes and brush out his eyebrows (although Maggie had pretty well handled those the night before).

Julia left Sam in his chair while she called over Olivia, another buxom beauty, this time from Texas. Olivia wet down Sam’s hair and proceeded to brush it into an “unstructured” look. In Sam’s vocabulary that meant at best “wind blown” and more likely “disheveled”. But as Olivia explained, that was the look the photographer had requested.

And speaking of the photographer, he made a cameo appearance to inspect Sam and order some additional modifications. He wanted a manicure for Sam and some additional coloring on his cheeks and neck. The additional coloring was bluish black and it was meant to give Sam more of a 5 o’clock shadow.

It was a bit past one o’clock when Olivia delivered Sam back to the receptionist’s desk. Florence slid him a clip board to sign. There was no price listed. He just made his mark and turned around to find Lisa arriving just as he finished signing.

“Are you all smooth?” she asked.

“Yep. Do we have time for a bite to eat before my next stop?”

Lisa and Sam caught a burger and fries while they waited for Sam’s 2 o’clock appointment. Lisa lead Sam up to the second floor of the Hawthorne building and delivered him to the photographer’s assistant. “We’re shooting colognes today.”

“You mean invisible smells?”

The assistant gave Sam the evil eye, and when she saw the smirk on Sam’s face she too began to smile. “Yeah. We sell it with sex appeal.”

“I never considered myself sexy.”

“Trust me, you look pretty good to me. Besides, and don’t take this personal, with Photoshop we can make a pig look sexy. Let me introduce you to your costar for the day.”

And once again Sam was introduced to a gorgeous woman. Sylvia was from South Africa, Dutch descent with one quarter African blood. Her skin was just the slightest bit darker than the average white girl from European descent, but her eyes were remarkably exotic. In fact, it was her eyes that got her this gig. She was about the same height and weight as Sam, incredibly thin and “busty” where it counted. Unlike the other girls, she had what she called “character” to her nose. It was a bit on the large size, but at the same time it was very feminine; narrow and a little turned up with small nostrils.

For the next two hours Sam had an amazing education on photo shoots. He posed alone, he posed with Sylvia, and he stood to the side while Sylvia posed. But most of the afternoon was dedicated to Sam with various degrees of undress, principally concerning the lack of shirts. The vast majority of the shots were face and torso, and that included sitting, standing and horizontal on a fake bed with Sylvia.

Sylvia was a beauty, there was no doubt about that. But the more time Sam spent with her, the less attractive she became. It wasn’t her beauty, but something underneath her charm. Her laugh was too harsh, and her physical touch less than delicate. She had a muscularity to her that turned Sam off. And maybe there was something to that urban legend about pheromones, but she just didn’t smell right. That was as nebulous a conclusion as Sam had ever come to. Whenever he studied her he found her very beautiful and extremely desirable. But when he was holding her or kissing her, and especially kissing her, that desirability slipped away.

Sam just couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt no chemistry with her. Fortunately his feelings didn’t transfer over to digital pixels, because the photographer was very happy with the pictures he popped out. In fact he was ecstatic.

The shoot wrapped up around 4:30 and Lisa made a call on her cell phone. “Maggie will meet us at the limo,” she said.

“What about my money?” Sam asked playfully.

Lisa opened her purse and pulled out an envelope. “Normally it takes two weeks for a check to arrive in the mail. But I’ve got contacts,” she bragged.

Sam opened the envelope and found 10 one hundred dollar bills. “Wow! Cash?”

“You don’t have to claim it … if you don’t want to.”

When they arrived back at the estate, Lisa immediately took Sam up to Harriet’s room. Lisa had received several calls throughout the day and their instructions for the evening had been discussed on the ride home. Basically, Tuesday night was going to be a carryover of Monday night.

Lisa found a clean bra and corset liner, a new package of suntan thigh high stockings and Harriet’s sweat pant shorts. Sam gathered them up and went into the bathroom to begin getting dressed. Lisa spread glue on the back of the large breast forms and then removed the garters from Sam’s corset. When Sam returned, Lisa helped him into his corset. “Reach for the ceiling, dude,” and she pulled the cords as tight as possible.

By then the glue was dry on the breast forms. She picked up the first breast form, being careful not to touch the glue. Sam had his bra on, and Lisa opened the stretch cup, holding it well away from Sam’s chest while she placed the breast form in the extended cup. Then she carefully pushed the cup and breast form back into their proper position. “Hold that one while the glue dries,” she instructed Sam. While he held the left, Lisa attached the right.

When his boobs were firmly attached, Sam jumped and bent over to get the feel of them. “Even though they’re bigger than last night’s, they feel better; safer,” he said.

“Do you like being bigger?” Lisa asked him. Sam laughed. “Ok, dumb question. I know the answer to that one,” she admitted.

“Boy, I thought it was tough sleeping last night. Tonight is going to be even more difficult.”

“Maybe not,” Lisa suggested. “You might be more used to them and how they move. Plus, you won’t have to wear a bra tonight. I always feel better without a bra,” Lisa pointed out.

Sam looked at Lisa and gave her a smirk. “What?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Wouldn’t know what?”

“How you feel without a bra. You say you feel better without one, but I’ve never felt you without one.” He said with his same little smirk.

“Well you’re not going to find out for a long time smarty pants! Come on, put your robe on and we’ll call Miss Maggie.”

Maggie showed up with her basket of cosmetics, but she also had her camera equipment sitting in the hall, when she knocked on the door. Maggie took Sam over to the vanity to apply his makeup, while Lisa set up the equipment. They had decided that they would shoot Sam in a number of different wigs. The idea was to get an idea of what style and color hair best suited Sam.

Maggie was much faster than Monday night. She didn’t have to give a pep talk, or clean up some eye brows or pick through colors like the previous night. Once again Sam looked very pretty.

With Sam’s makeup finished, Miss Maggie stepped out so Sam could take off his robe and look for a dress. Lisa and Sam began poking through Harriet’s dress collection, examining and discussing a number of dresses until they found a long sleeve fuchsia dress with a front twist. The dress had the appearance of two bands of material coming over each shoulder, covering each breast, and then twisting under the breasts and curving back around the waist to pull tight in the back and give a tight, form fitting waist. The hem extended to just below the knee. The dress had a clean smooth look, with a deep V neck and just the hint of a high collar behind the neck. It was a very beautiful and elegant dress. Both Sam and Lisa quickly agreed to it.

Lisa picked out a half slip for under the silk dress, and helped Sam into black 4 inch heels. He claimed he could handle three inch heels the previous night, so they decided to push his shoe and heel envelope. Sam added his watch and a bit of jewelry and they were ready to try on wigs.

Sam liked the long wigs, especially if they were curly. He couldn’t make up his mind on the best color.

Lisa liked the blond “bimbo” look. She especially liked bangs. The heavier the bangs, the more she liked it. And straighter was better. Sort of. Truth be told, she just loved to see Sam as feminine as possible.

Maggie was more into color. Maggie had a thing for red. The redder the better, even though she could admit to herself that the blonder the red, the more realistic the color looked. But hey, the European style was to go after the bright red-bordering purple color. Realism didn’t matter to them. It didn’t matter to Maggie either. Maybe she had a little fetish for bright reddish purple. So who cared?

Sam soon became convinced there were too many wigs. What in the world was Harriet doing with this many wigs? As it turned out, if someone had told Sam, only a few of the wigs belonged to Harriet. The rest were brought in only a week earlier to give the women more options when they evaluated Sam and his hair. The pictures would be kept for Lisa’s picture album, capturing her feminization of Sam Springer. But first they would be used to help pick the best look for Sam.

Once again, truth be told, and there is much too little truth in this story, the girls already knew that Sam would not wear a wig to the Saturday night dinner party. This party was way too important for such a cheap look. Sam was becoming a Hawthorne, and no expense would be spared for the very best. Without a doubt, Sam would be as gorgeous as any debutant ever was at her coming out party. Only Sam didn’t know that Saturday was his coming out party. But everyone else knew.

The girls let Sam pick his favorite wig for the evening, and he went with a long blonde wig with curls down over his shoulder. While Maggie packed away her studio lights, the other 3 girls walked downstairs to the salon for Samantha’s lessons. “Tonight will be similar to last night,” Mona explained. “Only tonight, I want to work on your walk. So we’ll have you stand for a while, practice your voice lessons, accept a few canapés from your server, and then we will have you walk around the room.

“Now the deal with walking is to be as natural as possible. You don’t want to imitate runway models that swing their hips like a Saturday night trollop. Bring your shoulders back just a little, move your hips forward just a little, keep your elbows pointed in and close to your side, and walk slowly. So let’s try it, walk towards me.”

Sam walked over to Mona trying to do as he had been instructed. Mona sent him back and forth a couple of times without adding any further instruction. “Not bad Samantha. You should add just a little more hip sway, but just a tiny amount. So tiny, that I don’t want you to bother with it tonight. Keep your posture, look ahead as much as possible, chin up and let’s do a few more steps before we see how your voice sounds.”

Mona put Sam through his paces for almost ninety minutes. He practiced eating crackers in a dainty, no lipstick method. He went through the voice DVD, and Mona complimented him a few times on his voice improvement. Sam stood, walked, talked, ate, sipped and walked some more. He became comfortable enough with walking and standing that his 4 inch heels became second nature to him.

Maggie called them to another faux seven course meal, and Sam practiced sitting, eating, chewing and drinking in a most lady-like manner. Mona corrected him when necessary, but was never over-bearing as she could sometimes be.

Sam, for his part, was a good sport and sincerely tried to meet everyone’s expectations. This wasn’t the type of week he had expected to spend with Lisa, but he did like her, and he was going to try his best to please her.

Lisa appreciated that.

After dinner they returned to the salon for another hour of voice, standing and walking practice. Mona wanted Sam to appreciate the length of the evening he would experience on Saturday. She wanted to make sure that he could hold his new found talents through an entire evening without tiring.

They finished at 10:30 and Mona gave Sam another pep talk. “You did great Samantha dear. You’re getting the hang of everything very nicely. Some of your responses tonight were almost second nature. Phenomenal work dear. I want to emphasize what I told you last night. You want to be comfortable in your role and that means your clothing also. If you would please, remain in feminine dress as much as you can, and that includes in bed. If you don’t mind I suggest wearing your bra, corset and panties to bed.” Mona gave him an understanding smile, “But if you don’t want to, we will all understand of course.”

Mona gave Lisa a hug and wished the two of them good evening. Lisa walked Sam up to Harriet’s bedroom, and helped him get undressed and clean off his makeup. “You did really well tonight, Sam. You aren’t going to have any trouble passing as a girl Saturday night.”

“I hope not. I have to admit that I am putting a lot of time into this.” He gave Lisa a forced smile that suggested he wanted to say more. Sam wasn’t happy spending his vacation training to become a girl. Lisa understood this, but she did not want to allow Sam to start complaining. That just couldn’t be allowed to start. It would undercut what they had accomplished so far.

“I know you have,” she said sympathetically. “You have been just wonderful, going along with all of this. I can’t imagine any other person being capable of such a wonderful sacrifice. I really, really appreciate all of this Sam,” and she gave him a tight hug and kiss. “And it is going to be worth it, I promise. We’re going to have a great time Saturday night.”

Lisa was sincere about that part. Saturday night after everyone had left, Sam would receive his thanks. Hopefully, Sam would still be in full girl mode when he and Lisa would give each other their virginity. The plan was to reward Sam for becoming a girl. Positive reinforcement would be most powerful if he clearly associated it with cross-dressing as a girl.

“What are you going to wear to bed tonight?”

“Well, my breast forms are glued on, so I’ll keep them. Do I need to wear a bra?”

“That’s up to you. Your forms will stay attached, but it would be best for you to get more familiar with the straps and elastic on your brassier. I can give you a sleeping bra if you want. What about your panties and corset?”

“I’ll try,” he said, not too excited about the prospect.

“Thank you Sam. Let’s get you back to my room and put you in your negligee and robe.” Lisa’s directions contained the implicit promise of some petting and kissing. However, with Sam in girl’s clothing, Lisa intended on taking the aggressive role in their make out session. Sam wasn’t done with his evening’s lessons. He also needed to start learning to be submissive to Lisa.

CHAPTER 13

For Sam, Wednesday was different on top of strange and covered with weird. Sam wore his bra and breast forms, corset (and panties of course), all day.

His unusual sensations started with his morning shower. With his breast forms firmly secured to his chest but tugging on his skin, he found his shower strange. The forms wiggled continuously whenever he moved, their added weight was incredibly obvious whenever he bent over and they hung down from his chest even while standing straight.

After his shower Sam massaged his body lotion into his torso and across his lower back as far as he could reach. Next, he managed to slip on his corset liner and then his corset. He pulled the corset tight, although not quite as tight as Lisa had been lacing him. But he still felt the same constriction of movement when he tired to bend over and pull his panties up his legs. Then the weird and the trouble began. His pants wouldn’t stay up on his narrow waist. He didn’t have enough notches in his belt to pull his jeans tight, and even if he had, they would have bunched up uncomfortably.

Sam put on his dusky rose, satin robe and called Lisa. Lisa knew all of this, because she had been watching him go through his morning ritual. She was very happy that Sam was wearing his female accoutrements. Lisa found an old pair of her jodhpurs that she had out grown. For his top, they had to go to Harriet’s room to find a t-shirt big enough for Sam’s brassier and C cup breast forms. At least Sam didn’t have to go looking for a new pair of boots.

Jennifer and Abigail gave Sam another riding lesson before he went off riding with Lisa. Sam found a whole new sensation riding on Abigail that morning. The different canters caused different amounts of bounce in his breast forms, and that caused different sensations in his chest. At first it was a bit strange and unnerving to Sam, but eventually he found the sensation pleasant and fun. Sam had found another reason why girls must like their real breasts.

Sam’s pleasurable sensations weren’t lost on Lisa. She knew first hand the bounce effect of riding her horse, and she could see the effect on Sam’s face. When the two of them went riding together, she deliberately brought their horses to just the right canter and speed to provide Sam with the optimum jiggle and titillation.

Their afternoon swim was just as weird for Sam. Lisa got her wish from the other day, and Sam had to wear the top half of his swimming suit. He wore Harriet’s bikini and he filled it out very well. That left him with several strange and ambiguous feelings. He felt effeminate with his large breasts filling out his bikini top and jiggling around as he moved. He felt emasculated for having his penis tucked up between his legs (at least some of the time) and the smooth emasculated appearing crotch it gave him. And he felt just a little built guilty for agreeing to do any of this in the first place. He sold away his masculinity to please Lisa. And beyond all of that, he still felt intimidated by Mona and he was sure that that too was part of the reason that he was wearing — and filling out nicely, thank you — a yellow bikini.

Lisa could read some of this on Sam’s face and hear it in his voice. She was delighted with what she was witnessing. There was a secret thrill in her bosom, seeing these contradictions inside Sam. It meant that she was controlling him and forcing him towards his eventual transformation into her feminized husband. On the other hand, she was concerned about his ambiguous emotions, but only because they might prevent his conversion. Nothing was certain, and what she was trying to accomplish went against a man’s very nature. Several times during the day she would sneak off to call her mother and discuss Sam’s emotions and attitude. They also discussed schedules and other plans for the week as they planned Sam’s first steps down a slippery slope. Together with her mother and grandmother, Lisa knew they could break Sam’s confidence and pride, and take control — if not outright ownership — of his body and mind.

Sam was still worried about getting tan lines from his bikini top. That was something that Lisa would have dearly loved to see on her young epicene boy. But Sam was at a teetering point in his early conversion, and she knew that she just couldn’t push him too fast. She took him into the pool with her only for a little while, and then allowed him to rest in the shade, while she tanned in the sun. For Sam, at least he didn’t have to wear that damn corset while he was swimming.

And so, their day of riding and swimming, of kissing and talking eventually wound down to late afternoon and the arrival home of Mona. Since this wondrous project had started last Friday, Mona had found it difficult to keep her mind on work. Once again she was home early to torment Sam and talk with Lisa. She found the two of them lounging at the pool. She spotted them before they saw her, and she stepped behind a large bush where she could study Sam, or in her mind, Samantha. His body and form were still masculine in appearance, and his bikini and ample breasts appeared incongruous on his form. “Boy and girl,” she thought as she watched him. Some of his movements seemed to hold the slightest appearance of being less than masculine and a bit effeminate. Perhaps their evening lessons were catching on. That was wonderful to contemplate if true. They would redouble their efforts immediately.

Mona announced her attendance and caught the attention of the two kids. “Hi Lisa, hi Samantha. How was your day?” She placed a large book on the table in front of the kids. “Elegant Hair Styles for 2009” it said on the cover. Sam reached for his beach wrap to try and cover the upper half of his bikini — and his associated faux boobs. With the exception of Lisa, Sam really felt uncomfortable wearing his bikini in front of someone else — especially Mona.

“Fine, mother. Aren’t you home early? And what’s with this book?”

“Yes I am. I have some information for you. We have had a small change in our preparations for Saturday. I received a call from grandmother, and she told me that our appointment plans for Saturday morning have fallen through. Rita isn’t available for Samantha’s hair weaving.” She could see the questions forming on Samantha’s face.

“Hair weaving?” Sam asked.

“I was going to tell you tonight,” Lisa began. “Grandmother looked at your pictures from last night, and she thinks that a hair weave would look better on you than a wig. She thinks it would look more personal and real, and we can style it specifically for you. Grandmother suggested a type of hair weaving, where individual strands of hair are fused onto your hair. It looks amazingly realistic, and it is almost impossible to detect.”

“Correct dear.” Mona turned to Sam and continued the explanation. “This isn’t a difficult process, but to look totally realistic it requires an experienced cosmetologist. Rita is the best. Grace was sure that she could get Rita to do your hair on Saturday, but when she called, she found out that Rita had just left for Atlanta.”

“So what are we going to do?” Lisa asked in fake concern once again.

“Our options are limited. The salon has only one other experienced cosmetologist, and she won’t be available on Saturday. But she will be available tomorrow.” Mona looked at Sam and asked, “Samantha, would you be willing to get a hair weave tomorrow?”

“Is it permanent?” he asked.

“Semi-permanent, it can last 4 to 6 months if you take good care of it.”

Sam didn’t look happy. He turned to Lisa and said, “I can’t go back to school with a long hair weave.” He didn’t need to explain why. Both women understood.

“Oh that’s not a problem, Sam,” Lisa began explaining with obvious compassion and understanding in her voice. “It will last 6 months only if you want it that long. We can remove it on Sunday, no problem.”

“And there are no lasting effects or anything visible?”

“None at all.”

“Oh. In that case I guess I can do it,” Sam conceded.

“Great!” Mona jumped in. “Since you have agreed, I have a book for the two of you to go through. Samantha, look through here and pick out something that you like. Something stylish and a little on the elegant side for Saturday. You can have the extensions put in tomorrow, and then on Saturday us girls can go into the salon to get our hair styled and have one of their experts apply our makeup. It will be a great bonding opportunity just for us girls. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful!” Lisa exclaimed.

“Oh joy,” Sam thought sarcastically to himself.

“Ok, then that’s settled,” Mona announced. “I’ll call the salon and confirm your appointment for 9:00. And as long as you’re there, we can add eyelash extensions. They are simply amazing,” Mona gushed.

“Oh swell,” Sam again thought

“Now Samantha, you should go in and get dressed for tonight’s practice. And take the book with you. The two of you can page through it later. There are some delicious styles in there. Now scoot!” she said with more frolic than discipline.

Sam was happy to get away. Lisa took him up to Harriet’s room, and once again they began Sam’s evening transformation into Samantha. Lisa found him fresh lingerie and handed it over to the boy. Everything was black. “If you don’t mind, last night as we were looking through Harriet’s dresses, I spotted an LBD that I would really like you to wear tonight. Is that ok?”

“I guess,” he answered a little reluctantly. “What’s an LBD?”

“It’s one of the most important parts of any girl’s wardrobe — the little black dress.”

“Oh, in that case, sure.”

Sam took his clean panties, panty girdle and little sweat shorts and retired to the bathroom, where he washed up. He used his powder fresh deodorant, and then pulled on his black, French-cut panties which were covered in soft lace. He tucked his penis just the way Maggie had shown him, and he pulled on his black panty girdle to hold himself tightly in the correct position. It wasn’t normal he knew, but he was getting used to it. That should have sent up more red flags than it actually did.

Sam returned to the bedroom and slipped on his strapless, black underwire brassiere with the frothy lace cups. He easily reached behind and clasped the brassiere as if it was a normal routine. Lisa smiled, but said nothing. Instead, she handed Sam a pair of black thigh-high nylons with a back seam. Sam quickly rolled them up his legs, and Lisa helped him straighten the seams. Next, she smeared a thick moisturizer over Sam’s tummy and back, and then allowed him to pull on the corset liner by himself. She wrapped the corset around his torso, clipped the busks together, straightened out the lace flap and then laced him tightly into his least favorite garment. And finally, Lisa helped him pull a black satin slip over his head.

Lisa stepped into the closet for just a second, then carried out a black dress to show Sam. It was a beautiful black lace dress with a portrait style neckline, dainty cap sleeves, and a four tier skirt. The back of the dress was just as gorgeous as the front. The dress fastened up the center back with a long metal zipper. It was fully lined, the bodice had boning on both sides, and it was strapless underneath the lace, cap sleeves. It was a stunning LBD.

“What do you think?” Lisa asked expectantly.

“It looks really nice,” Sam answered.

“I can’t wait to see you in it,” Lisa gushed. “Let’s call Maggie and get your makeup on. I can’t wait to get you into this dress. Think about which wig you want to wear tonight.”

Maggie saw the dress and asked if that was this evening’s choice. Lisa confirmed that it was and Maggie said, “Well in that case let’s go a little more dramatic with the makeup. I’ll give you some darker eyeliner and a brighter red lipstick. We can see if Samantha prefers the dramatic to the demure.” Maggie gave Sam a warm smile as she once again, like the previous evenings, plucked a few more hairs from Sam’s eyebrows. His eyebrows were slowly getting arched and thinned and he hadn’t yet caught on to how feminine Maggie was making his brows.

As soon as Maggie finished, Lisa rushed to slip the exquisite lace dress over Sam’s head. Then she literally pushed him in front of the full-size mirror in the closet as they discussed wigs. Sam picked out an auburn, shoulder length wig that was perfectly straight and had bangs. Lisa loved to see Sam in bangs. Lisa dropped a pair of black 4-inch heels in front of Sam and helped him buckle the tiny straps.

She made Sam turn around several times in front of the mirror so that both of them could observe the beautiful dress. “It fit’s you like a glove,” Lisa said. “I just love that dress and you make it look so beautiful. You look so graceful and elegant.”

Lisa added some jewelry and while she was clipping on some dangle rhinestones she asked, “Sam, would you mind getting you ears pierced tomorrow? Just one pierce. Most of the boys are wearing the style, and if you decide you don’t like it, you can let the holes close up. What do you think?”

“Why not,” he answered. Sam was willing to do almost anything for Lisa. Wasn’t this cross dressing proof of that?

Lisa brought Sam down to her mother, who was waiting in the salon. “Wow! Samantha you look wonderful. You make that dress look so elegant. Harriet never made it look any better than you have.” Mona gave first Lisa a hug and faux kisses, and then Sam. “Good job Samantha.” Mona had to compliment Sam on his feminine mannerisms during their greeting. “Maggie is in the hall with her camera stuff. Go pose for a few pictures then come back here when you’re done.”

Sam and Lisa walked out to the hallway and waited a minute for Maggie to find them. “I’ve always loved that dress,” Lisa told Sam as the two of them hugged. “But in all honesty, I think you make it look better than Harriet did. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do. It is kind of dressy.” Sam did a little spin and watched it flair out from the bottom. He looked at Lisa and smiled, denoting his approval of the dress.

“Harriet has got a couple of adorable LBDs. I’ve always preferred this one, I think it has a fairytale look to it. I always imagined Snow White wearing a dress like this one. So do you think you might be interested in wearing this dress Saturday?”

Sam was rather non-committal. “I guess, I think it would be alright.”

“More than alright. I bet you get hit on if you wear this dress,” Lisa challenged.

Sam blushed a little. “First, I don’t want to get hit on. And second, there is no way that I am going to look good enough or be convincing enough.”

“Wanna bet?”

“It won’t happen.”

“Yes it will,” a voice said behind the two of them.” Maggie had arrived for their pictures. She gave Sam a reassuring smile and said, “It will happen, I am almost positive. And when it does, don’t take it as an insult or negative reflection on your masculinity. Take it as a compliment to your theatrical abilities.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Samantha dear, this is a play. You are rehearsing for a real life event. We are putting you in costume and we are doing everything as professional as possible to make your costume totally realistic. And you are rehearsing your acting — that is to say how you walk and talk and eat and relate to the other actors in this play. Make sense?”

Actually it made a great deal of sense to Sam. And it also came as a relief. It put this feminization of Sam into Samantha in an entirely different light. This wasn’t real life. He wasn’t being feminized. No, this was a play. A one time play and then he was done. And since it was an important play, everyone was going to great lengths to make sure the play was successful. Whew! Sam felt better. “Yes, it does. Thank you Maggie,” Sam said sincerely.

Sam felt better. He was wrong about everything of course, but that was the point of Maggie’s speech. Throw him off the scent so he wouldn’t realize that his gut reaction really was correct.

“Good enough then, let’s get some pictures. And by the way, you are going to get hit on. Believe me, you are pretty, elegant, beautiful and talented. I would hit on you!”

Of course Sam was going to hit on at the Saturday dinner party! Mona had hired two people to come to the party and make discrete propositions to Sam. Nothing was to be left to chance. If Sam didn’t leave Saturday’s party without a strong ego boost concerning his feminine beauty, if he wasn’t strongly confident that he could pass for a girl, it wouldn’t be because the Hawthorne family hadn’t pulled out every stop to make it happen.

Lisa posed Sam, Maggie took Samantha’s picture, and then the three of them moved into the salon for their rehearsal. Mona put Sam through his paces; standing, walking, nibbling, sipping and talking. Sam was also introduced to sitting and crossing his legs in the proper way. Mona emphasized the talking part this evening. In Mona’s opinion, Sam wasn’t going to be able to pass his talking test. But no mind, there were back up plans and they would be used, and they would be successful. If Sam passed in every other way, his voice could be over looked by the other evening participants. Human nature guaranteed that.

The pre-reception rehearsal was extended to over ninety minutes. Mona worked Sam hard. When Sam was dressed as Samantha, the plan called for Mona to treat him nicely. And Mona was nice, but she was much more detailed in her analysis of Sam’s efforts on Wednesday evening. Mona was perfecting Samantha and Lisa was smiling. She was smiling at Sam and at Samantha and at her mother. Especially at her mother.

After dinner, Mona dismissed the two kids. No post-dinner rehearsal tonight. Sam was progressing nicely, and Mona wanted to give the kids time to look through the styling book before going to the salon the next morning. Mona really wanted to help them pick the right style for the party, but Lisa had pushed back against her mother. Lisa felt that Mona was taking control of every thing, and Lisa just had to fight back. Sam was her project and she wanted a say in how he was to be transformed into a beautiful girl. Sam was Lisa’s girl and Lisa’s project and she wanted to regain control.

Instead of heading to Harriet’s room where Samantha could change half-way back into Sam, Lisa led him into the library. The library had a nice big table with excellent lighting and a better than average music system. Lisa called up one of her favorite files to play on the music system, and the two of them sat together to look through the book.

They didn’t confine their attention solely to the book, just the majority of it. There was also some kissing and talking and more compliments for Sam. But mostly they paged through the book and discussed the various styles and how they might work for Sam.

The time was closing in on eleven o’clock when Sam made his final decision. It wasn’t his decision only, Lisa had steered him carefully to an elegant style. But surprisingly, Sam had been rather adamant about his final choice. It was a stunning style found on a Tyra Banks photo. Her hair was parted on the right side, with the part over-lapping rather than straight. Her hair was curled deliciously into big sweeping curves. The shorter side, the right side, had the hair brushed back and away from the face, but still covering the ear. Just enough ear peaked out to display a diamond cluster earring.

The other two thirds were brushed over her crown and fell forward over her forehead and just above the left eye. Then the style was pushed back on the left side into a huge curling mass of beautifully soft hair, falling softly against the neck and allowing just a glimpse of her other diamond cluster earring.

It was a very elegant look, but it didn’t have the “aged” look of an updo or other heavily styled dos. It would look great on an 18 year old college co-ed.

“Just one thing,” Lisa warned. “Don’t tell mom that you found this style on Tyra Banks.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say mom isn’t a Tyra Banks fan,” and Lisa left it at that.

“I am getting my ears pierced tomorrow, right?” Sam asked Lisa.

“That’s the plan. Is that ok?” she asked with just a little concern as to why Sam was bringing this up.

“What kind of earrings do I get?”

“What kind do you want?”

“Really expensive,” Sam said seriously.

Lisa just looked into Sam’s eyes to see if he was being facetious. Eventually Lisa decided that Sam was indeed being serious. Lisa grinned from ear to ear, “They will be as expensive as you want them to be. Guaranteed!”

“It’s getting late and we need to get up a little earlier tomorrow. We should probably get you out of this dress and off to bed.” Lisa gave Sam one last hug and kiss, gathered up their style book and walked him up to Harriet’s room.

On the way up the stairs, Lisa introduced Sam to another part of their plan. “Since you are going to be spending much of tomorrow in a salon, I think it would be best if you went as Samantha and not as Sam. Don’t you agree?”

What was Sam going to say? He was already dressed as a pretty girl with glued on breast forms, and tomorrow he was getting long hair woven into his existing hair. There was really no good reason for him to disagree. “Ok.”

“Then I think we should pick out your wardrobe for tomorrow, tonight. It will save us some time in the morning.”

“Sure. That makes sense.”

Before undressing, Lisa and Sam began looking through Harriet’s closet. Lisa knew exactly what she wanted Sam to wear and she introduced it to Sam first thing. It was the same pink suit that she had first shown to Sam on Monday evening. Sam was tired and he was beginning to lose the strength and will to continue fighting Lisa. Maggie’s speech earlier had given him more than enough cover and rationalization to go with the flow. He just hoped no one from school ever found out about his spring break at his girl friend’s home. Sam and Samantha agreed with the pink suit.

Lisa helped Sam prepare for bed. She returned to her room and turned on her monitor while she called Mona’s study to talk with her mom. Both agreed that they were making nice progress and they were on schedule. “He is a pretty one,” Mona said. “Congratulations on picking out such a gorgeous boy. He is going to make you a great concubine.”

CHAPTER 14

Lisa was up early and watching Sam prepare for his day. She had already called and woken him, and he was in the process of undressing. He was still wearing Lisa’s blue negligee to bed each evening, and so that came off first. The negligee was followed by his brassiere, corset, corset liner and last to come off was his panties. He stood in front of the mirror looking at the red marks left by his brassiere, corset and panties. He shook his shoulders to jiggle his breast forms while he scratched his crotch. “What the fuck am I doing?” he asked himself. Then he ambled off to take his morning shower.

Sam showered, brushed his teeth and shaved as close as possible. He put on clean panties and panty girdle, tucked, and then slipped on a white brassiere. Lisa had left him some perfumed body lotion that he spread over his tummy and back, then he pulled on his corset liner and finally his corset. He laced himself in, but not as tightly as Lisa laced him. He was getting used to wearing the damn thing, but that didn’t mean he liked it. He slipped into his satin robe and pulled it around him. Then he called Lisa.

They shared a good morning kiss and hug, then Lisa walked Sam down to Harriet’s room. Sam removed his robe and Lisa helped him with some suntan thigh-high stockings. “Let me explain a neat trick for you. If you pull your stockings up too high, they fight you all day. The stockings tend to pull on the sticky silicone tops and they irritate your legs no end. So to stop that, you roll your stockings up your leg, but then you flip over the gripping hem part at the top. Now you have nothing holding them up. Stand up and move your legs just a bit. This allows your stockings to find their natural position — not too much stretch to them. Then flip your hems back over and they grip your legs and hold your stockings in their natural position. Now they won’t want to pull down and irritate you. Cool, no?”

Before putting Sam in his dress, Lisa inspected his corset. The protective flap for the laces was out of place, so she re-laced Sam’s corset; only she laced him much tighter than he had.

Sam replaced his robe and they called Maggie. She give Sam just a light bit of foundation and powder, some pink lip liner and lipstick. No eye makeup for this morning.

“Time to dress,” Lisa announced excitedly.

Lisa handed Sam the sleeveless camisole from his suit. It slid effortlessly over his head and shoulders. It was a pleasant pink in color and had panels of satin and lace covering the front. Next he pulled on a 30” trumpet skirt made from silk. It had a side zipper and like all of Harriet’s clothes, it fit his corseted waist like a glove. The hem had insets of re-embroidered metallic lace and reached to the top of his calves. And finally, the coup de grace: the jacket was long sleeved with no buttons or cuffs. It had a double collar; the top in shimmering satin and the lower in the same re-embroidered metallic lace as the skirt inserts. The jacket extended to the top of Sam’s hips and had a single button set low enough to show off the exceptional camisole underneath.

“Boy you look good in that suit,” Lisa complimented Sam.

“I don’t think I look anything at all like a boy,” he responded.

“No you don’t! You look way too scrumptious for something as plain as a boy. Let’s finish getting you dressed.”

Lisa helped Sam put on the wig they had picked out; a relatively short dishwater blonde with tight curls covering the entire wig. Sam had to be impressed with Harriet as a fashion plate. She had everything needed to match the suit. He stepped into a pair of pink 3 inch pumps and Lisa found a small pink clutch purse that matched the dress perfectly.

They practiced their formal hug and air-kisses, and then went to breakfast. Breakfast was quick as Maggie was in a hurry to leave. Maggie reminded Sam, “Freshen your lipstick Samantha dear,” as she handed the styling book to Lisa and took the girls out to the limo.

Sam crossed his legs as he had been taught, while Lisa sat next to him paging through the book one last time. They were both solid on their choice for Sam’s hair, but it gave them something to do as Maggie maneuvered through the heavy morning rush-hour traffic.

Maggie parked them in their usual reserved parking area and let them out of the car. “Have a good time, girls. Knock ‘em dead Samantha.”

They held hands as Lisa led Sam to the elevator and up to the salon. Florence was behind the receptionist’s desk and she was every bit as beautiful as Sam had remembered. “Good morning ladies,” she greeted them. “Coffee, tea or soft drink?” she offered.

They both declined. Sam tried out his girl voice in public for the first time ever. “Well then Samantha, Olivia is waiting for you. Please follow me.” Sam was in public for the first time and he was nervous. Even though he had been to the salon before, and he had met the same girls, that had been as Sam. Now he was Samantha. He practiced his girl walk just the way Mona had taught it to him, as he followed Florence. Lisa followed with the styling book.

Sam thought Florence was very nonchalant about Sam and Samantha. She knew Samantha the girl was really Sam the boy. He thought that should have been strange to Florence. It was strange to Sam! But there was no reaction from Florence, or as far as he could see, Olivia either.

Olivia greeted Sam and sat him in her styling chair. “Ok, I understand we’re going to do a cold fusion today. Is that correct?”

Sam hadn’t heard that wording before and he hesitated to answer, “Yep,” Lisa answered. “Here is what we have picked out,” and she handed the book to Olivia. It was open to the Tyra Banks picture.

“Very nice,” Olivia said. “Really nice. Samantha can I remove your wig and see what we are working with?” She set Sam’s wig on a nearby counter and stepped back. “Yes, I think this style will work very well with your face. When is your party?”

“Saturday evening,” Sam answered in his best girl voice.

“I really like this style for you, but it is a pin curl style. That complicates things just a bit.”

“How so?”

“As I understand your schedule, you are coming in on Saturday afternoon to have your hair done, and get makeovers. Is that correct?”

Lisa answered with a “Yes.”

Returning to Sam, Olivia said, “You are going to have very thick hair when I finish. It won’t dry very fast, and it especially won’t dry fast when it is pinned down to your head in a thick curl. Generally, pin curl sets are put up at night and you sleep on them. In the morning they are dry and you can brush them out.”

“Why can’t we use a drier?” Lisa asked.

“Because of frizzies. The human hair I use has a tendency to frizz. Hot air from a drier will make it worse. This is a style where you definitely don’t want any frizzing.”

“What do you recommend?”

Olivia spoke to Sam, “Come back for the last appointment tomorrow. I’ll set your hair and you can go home and sleep on it. Pin curls aren’t like roller curlers, so they are much easier to sleep on. When you come back on Saturday, someone can brush you out when they do your makeup. That would be my recommendation.”

Sam just looked at Lisa waiting for her advice. He sure didn’t know the schedules or any other appointments. “Give me a second,” and Lisa took out her cell phone and walked away.

“And we may have one other problem, Samantha. I don’t know if I have hair that can match your color. The style you chose brushes the hair away from the face and exposes the scalp and hair roots. That is the worst place to have a color mismatch. It will be obvious to everyone.”

“What do we do then?” Sam asked.

“First, let me bring my swatches over and see if I can match your color. If I can’t then we have two other options. I can call over to the supply house and get an emergency delivery. It will add a bit more cost.”

Sam knew that money was no object. “That is not a concern,” he said. “And if they don’t have the right color?”

Then I can match as close as possible today, and tomorrow before setting your hair I can color the attachments and your hair together. That really is the best way to match up the color.”

“How long will that last?” Sam wondered. This didn’t sound good to him.

“Most colorings last 3 to 4 months, or until your hair grows out.”

Sam made a grimace, “Too long. Are there washable colors?”

“Sure. They don’t look as good as the permanent colors, but it will be ok.”

Lisa returned and said, “We can come back tomorrow afternoon for a set. That should work for us.”

“We might have one more problem,” Sam said. He quickly summarized his conversation with Olivia.

“Well first, let’s find out if you can match his hair with what you have on hand. Then let’s worry about alternatives,” Lisa said.

It only took Olivia 10 minutes to check though her inventory and find out she didn’t have the correct match. “I’ll call the supply store immediately.” Olivia stepped away while she made her phone call and then returned. “Good news,” she announced. “They have what we need, but it will take an hour to get here.”

Lisa was on a tight schedule. “Well let’s pierce his ears and attach his eyelashes while we’re waiting.”

Olivia returned with a cart and all the paraphernalia she would need. It took no time at all to swab Samantha’s earlobes with alcohol, measure and mark the center of his lobe and then pierce it with a starting stud.

That completed, Olivia began attaching artificial lashes to Samantha’s existing lashes. She washed Samantha’s eyelids with a mild cleanser. The artificial lashes were individual, curved and came in 3 different lengths to add realism. It took the full hour to attach the eyelashes but they made an enormous improvement in Samantha’s appearance.

“Only non-waterproof mascara,” Olivia told Samantha. Then she gave him a number of other instructions to follow to provide maximum longevity to the eyelashes. “If you are extra careful, your lashes will last up to 2 months.”

“I sure hope not,” Sam thought to himself.

The difference in Sam’s eyes was remarkable. Even Sam thought so. With a bit of curling and some dark brown mascara they would turn heads on Saturday.

It was almost 10:30 before Olivia was able to start with Sam’s hair extensions. “We need to leave no later than 6:30,” Lisa told Olivia. “Can you be finished by then?”

“Barely, I’ll need help to go that fast, and someone else will need to do his manicure. I’ll need help,” she pleaded.

“Ill get you some help,” Lisa said as she once again took out her cell phone and made a call to her mother. It wasn’t long after that a beautiful girl came over to assist Olivia.

Sam looked at the assistant and couldn’t believe his eyes. “Do they grow them here or something?” he wondered. Jillian was as beautiful as all the other girls he had seen in the salon. She had olive colored skin and dark brown hair. She was probably Italian. Her skin was perfect, her lips were large and plump, and she looked like she too was wearing eyelash extenders. She was fairly tall, maybe 5’9” in her 3 inch heels, her waist was tiny, her hips were large and her cleavage couldn’t be contained by her push-up bra.

Jillian assisted by sorting out the extensions from the bundle they arrived in, inspecting the adhesive and handing them to Olivia as she called for them. Olivia was working along the scalp and hairline of Samantha, picking up a few hair strands at a time, grouping them and straightening and pulling them taut, then lying the extension next to the hair bundle as close to the scalp as she could manage. Then Olivia squeezed the hairs and extension together with a pliers like contraption that fused the keratin-based adhesive to the real hair. Then she moved to the next hairs and repeated the process.

It was a slow and tedious process. Olivia would have to take an occasional break and Jillian would step in for her. Jillian wasn’t nearly as fast as Olivia, but she eliminated any down time.

While they were working away, a manicurist arrived and gave Sam a manicure. Sam’s nails were short but Mona and Lisa had decided not to add acrylic extensions to his nails. Not very many college co-eds had long fingernails, and they might look just a little phony. The manicurist soaked Samantha’s nails, and then cleaned up the cuticles before adding a base followed by a colored polish. Because of Sam’s striking pink suit, the manicurist was told by Lisa to use a pink polish. Saturday, they could remove the pink and apply a more appropriate color for Saturday evening.

The rest of the time Sam rested his eyes or flipped through a woman’s magazine. Cosmopolitan seemed to be popular for some reason, and they had many past issues. Lisa was continuously moving around, talking with Sam, chatting with the cosmetologists or calling her mother and giving her a running update. Olivia and Jillian continued working feverously.

Because of their deadline, the girls worked through lunch. The salon called out for sub sandwiches, and Sam practiced his dainty eating procedure, trying not to get any lipstick on the bread. After eating, Lisa gave him his purse and he took out his lipstick and a compact with a mirror. He relined his lips and puckered them together just enough to smooth out the lipstick. He did it just the way Mona had taught him.

Early in the afternoon he was served a soft drink and in late afternoon he received tea. Both times he practiced leaving just the slightest trace of lipstick on the glass. Once again, Lisa would give him his purse and he would take out his lipstick and freshen his lipstick. Practice, practice and more practice.

About 6:00 Olivia declared success. Jillian cleaned up the debris, and Olivia began styling Sam’s hair. Not all of the extensions were applied perfectly, and so some were slightly longer than others. Olivia had to clean them up, and cut the hair to the proper length and fullness for Saturday’s event. Sam’s hair was now very long and very full. If Olivia had attempted to wash Sam’s hair before cutting, it would have taken more than an hour to dry it. So Olivia spritzed a minimum amount of water on his hair and cut it semi-wet.

For the evening, Sam would have straight hair, parted at his crown and hanging to the shoulders. Olivia tried to dry the damp hair and style it a bit more with her hair brush, curling it under at the ends. But 6:30 came and went and Lisa could wait no longer. Olivia gave Sam a quick lesson in how to push his hair back behind his ears if it got in his face and that was about the extent of Sam’s hair tips.

As Lisa pulled him along to the receptionist’s desk, Olivia reminded him to tie it up before going to bed. “You’re not used to long hair and it will get in your way. The first couple of nights clip it up with a barrette or use a loose braid. Or better yet, wear a scarf.”

About all Sam could do was thank her with a wave as Lisa pulled him out the door.

“Is Maggie going to meet us at the car?” Sam asked.

“No, we’re not going home now. Miss Grace has invited us out to dinner.”

The girls were holding hands and walking down the sidewalk of a busy avenue. Sam was trying to remember his walking lessons and put them into action, but Lisa was pulling him along too fast. “Slow down,” Sam said. “I can’t keep up and walk like a lady. I don’t have your practice!”

Lisa slowed down and apologized. Sam pulled his hand free because he was having other troubles. Gusts of wind were blowing his skirt around and sometimes it felt like it was lifting up his skirt. He didn’t like the feel of that as it made him feel out of control. At the same time he was trying to hold a clutch purse in one hand, which although it sounds simple was another thing he was not used to doing.

“Where are we going? Out in the public? I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” Sam complained. “I’m not wearing much makeup and you can probably see my five o’clock shadow.”

Lisa laughed to herself. Sam did not have much of a beard to begin with, and Maggie had used more than enough cover-up to eliminate any 5 o’clock shadow. And the very reason that she had not told Sam about the evening dinner was to keep him from getting too worried. Once he was out in the public the deed was done and he would have to cope. The girls all felt that Samantha was ready for this push. And a push it was.

And on top of all that, Grace had yet to meet Samantha in person. She had seen plenty of photos and she was very pleased with the progress that Lisa and Mona were making. But she really wanted to see for herself how pretty this young boy was.

It was a four block walk to the restaurant, but it might as well have been four miles for Sam. As he tried to remember how to walk properly, the wind kept blowing his long hair across his face. He kept trying to push it back behind his ears, but he was afraid that he wasn’t doing it with enough feminine flair. And people kept looking at him. Men and women both watched him walk by, but the men looked longer. The women looked him up and down and even met his eyes sometimes. But the men seemed to be looking at his breasts more than anywhere else. Some of them smiled at him and one even winked. As they walked past pedestrians that were standing and waiting for evening rides, he was sure that he could feel their eyes following him along, probably staring at his ass.

Sam felt very uncomfortable. He heard the clicking of his heels on the concrete walk, and it sounded totally different than walking in the house. It sounded much louder and ominous for some strange reason. He didn’t want any attention, and yet it seemed that all heads and all eyes were drawn towards him. He knew that he was dressed nicely — in nice, fashionable clothes — but he truly did not understand how beautiful he was. His long hair and bright pink suit just begged people to look at him. Under different circumstances a woman might have enjoyed the attention and affirmation of her beauty, but Sam was too new to this game. The wind blew up his skirt again and forced him to quickly push it back down. The feeling of the wind under his skirt left him feeling vulnerable. It was a totally foreign feeling and it scared him.

He was forever thankful when they reached the restaurant and stepped out of the public’s eye. Or so he thought. He merely gave up one public appearance for another. Patrons surveyed him very carefully as the maá®tre d’ led the two young girls to a table near the center of the room. This was a test as much as it was practice for Sam, and Grace was going to put some pressure on him. He was going to be the center of attention for the entire restaurant.

When they reached their table, Mona, Grace, Eunice and Maggie were waiting for them. Sam was able to practice his hug and kiss with each woman as she stood and greeted him. Lisa seated him between Grace and herself. Mona sat next to Lisa so that they could exchange numerous whispers throughout dinner. Maggie wasn’t wearing either of her uniforms, as she too was in a nice dress with long sleeves, scoop neckline and a bit of cleavage showing.

Grace took control of the conversation. “Samantha you look ravishing in that suit. It fit’s you so well. You’re figure is amazing. Are you wearing a corset by chance?”

“Yes.”

“It looks amazing on you, dear,” and Grace patted Sam’s hand. “It also looks like your hair has grown since we last met.” Sam smiled a bit. “So how was the experience?”

Before Sam could answer a waiter showed up and asked if they would like cocktails.

Grace took charge, “Wine everyone?” Heads bobbed up and down. “Eunice would you please order the wine? You are our expert oenophile.”

“Any preferences on red or white?” she asked the group. No one had any strong feelings. “Does anyone know what they are ordering yet?” Silence and shrugs. “Ok, bring me one bottle each of a Cabernet Sauvignon and a Chardonnay. Just bring my usual,” Eunice said.

Grace returned her attention to Sam, “So how was your hair experience today?”

Before Sam could answer Mona jumped in and asked gruffly, “Is that how you had it styled?”

Grace gave Mona the evil eye and said slowly enough that everyone understood it as a reprimand, “Please allow the boy to answer one question at a time.” Point made; Grace had re-established herself as Sam’s guardian and Mona had re-established her reputation. “Please Samantha; tell us about your day. Did you enjoy it?”

“It was certainly long enough,” he started. The group of ladies chuckled and gave him their condolences. Sam then went into a rather long description of the process for having hair extensions cold fused to his existing hair. The group gave him their rapt attention and asked many questions. They kept him talking even though wine was brought and served.

“And have you picked out a hair style for Saturday?”

“Yes. Lisa and I really like it.”

“Well tell us about it.”

“I’m not very good at describing it. Lisa can you explain it?”

Lisa begged off and said, “Try your best Samantha. I’m sure you can describe it just fine.”

“Well,” and he paused trying to get his thoughts together. “It’s parted on one side, and that side is brushed back and away from the face.” He used his hands to try and show how the style would flow. “The other side is brushed forward and across my forehead, and then it too is brushed back away from my face as it falls to the side of my neck. The hair is very curly and full. Voluminous is the word the cosmetologist used. I think it will look very nice,” he concluded.

“How interesting,” Grace said. “I must compliment you on your voice. You must have been practicing very hard, because it sounds very promising.”

“Thank you.”

“Has Lisa explained that we are all coming to the salon together on Saturday to get our hair styled?” Grace asked.

“Yes. But I have to do things differently on Saturday.” Sam told the group.

“Really? How is that darling?”

“I’m getting it curled differently. Pin curls I think. Is that correct Lisa?”

“Yes.”

“So how is that different?” Grace asked with great interest. But before she could get her answer, the waiter politely interrupted and asked if they wanted appetizers. Lisa and Sam picked up their menus and looked through the appetizer list.

Sam whispered to Lisa, “There are no prices on my list.”

“That’s because grandmother is buying and you aren’t supposed to take price into consideration. Pick out something you like.”

The only thing Sam recognized was shrimp scampi — whatever scampi meant. So he ordered the small serving. The others already knew what they wanted and placed their orders.

Grace returned her attention to Sam, “So Samantha, how are things going to be different?”

“As I understand it,” Sam began in his practiced female voice, “my new hair is very thick, and pin curls dry very slowly. They lie flat on your head I guess,” and he looked to Lisa for confirmation. She nodded yes. “So because they lie flat on your head they dry very slow compared to those rollers. And I guess you can’t use a hair dryer on them because these extensions tend to frizz when you apply too much heat. So they have to dry naturally.”

“Ok, Samantha, I understand all of that. So how does it affect our Saturday styling? I was so looking forward to having you there with us,” she said with a slight disappointment in her voice.

“I’ll still go with you,” Sam assured her. “But I have to go back to the salon tomorrow afternoon to have my hair set, and then I have to sleep with all of the pin curls in my hair overnight so it will dry thoroughly. On Saturday they will remove my curlers and style my hair, so I will still have to go with you.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Grace said. “I really do want you there with us Samantha.”

For one of the rare times Eunice spoke. “Sleeping on pin curls isn’t hard,” she said. “They’re nothing like roller curlers,” and she looked at Grace with a little smile.

“That’s right,” Maggie added. “You will probably have to wear a scarf over them to keep them in place; you don’t want to pull out one of the pins. But you will hardly notice you have your hair set.” Unspoken was the caveat that after you had slept on rollers as many times as Eunice and Maggie had, you would hardly notice pin curls.

Grace once again patted Sam on the hand, now that she knew Sam would join them on Saturday. She noticed Sam’s nail polish and picked up his hand to look at his nails. “Did you get a manicure today?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. Your nails look very clean. They are a bit short though. Is that how girls wear them these days?”

“I’m not sure,” Sam answered. “You’ll have to ask Lisa.”

“I think I will. Lisa, are Samantha’s nails too short or is that how girls are wearing them?”

“They are a bit short grandma.”

She patted Sam’s hand and said, “Maybe next time you can add some extensions.”

The appetizers arrived and they suspended the conversation just long enough to get served and take a first bite. Sam had never had shrimp scampi before and he really like them.

Grace started up the conversation again. “With that long hair I can’t tell, did you get your ears pierced today?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sam answered. He held back his hair so that everyone could see his temporary studs.

“Please Samantha, don’t call me ma’am. Miss Grace would be better, if you please.” Grace didn’t want to get too informal with Sam. After all, he wasn’t one of them yet. And he certainly needed to know that there would be a pecking order in the family. He would be the lowest. So Grace asked that he use the Miss moniker. “So Sam, you will be ready to wear earrings on Saturday?”

“I guess so.”

“I ask, because I am told that you asked for some special earrings.” Grace looked him in the eye waiting for his response.

Sam blushed a little. “I wasn’t really serious. I was only joking with Lisa.”

Again Grace rubbed his hand and said, “Don’t apologize for what you said. If my sources are correct, it was the best request that you could have made. It tells me that you understand our situation a little better.” Sam smiled just a bit for Grace.

Grace released his hand and returned to her appetizer. “Samantha, I think I have just what you want. I’ll bring them with me Saturday.” The smile on everyone else’s face told Sam that he would be getting some special earrings indeed.

The women finished their appetizers and the dishes were cleared away. The waiter returned and took orders for entrees. After he left, Grace again took up the conversation. “Samantha, I want you to know exactly how much we all appreciate what you are doing and what you are going through. And I especially want to thank you, since I am the one that came up with this plan and asked you to participate. So here is a little something to show my gratitude.”

Grace handed Sam a long narrow box. It was wrapped in shiny paper and had a tiny little bow on it. Sam accepted the gift and expressed his thanks. “Go ahead, open it,” she told him.

Sam removed the ribbon and paper and found a velvet box. He was apprehensive about this box, because it looked like a box that a watch might come in. A very expensive watch he was thinking. He opened the box and he was more than surprised to see what it contained. Mildly shocked might be a better description. Inside the box was an expensive looking necklace.

“Go on, take it out,” Grace instructed. “Maybe it will go with your dress on Saturday.” Sam removed it from the box and held it up. It was a gold herringbone chain with a pendant hanging from it. The pendant had a nice size diamond inlaid in a gold fixture. “I see you’re not wearing a necklace,” Grace continued. “Please let me help you put this on.” Grace took the necklace from Sam. “Turn around and hold up your hair,” she said. She clipped the necklace on him and said, “Turn around, I want to see how it looks on you.”

Sam obliged. The other girls made appreciative comments about how nice it looked on Sam. Sam was still stunned. “She gave me a necklace?” he thought. “What in the world am I going to do with a necklace?” Sam knew he had to say something but all he could come up with us, “Thank you so very much. It is very pretty, but you shouldn’t have.”

Everyone laughed politely. They knew exactly what Sam meant by “you shouldn’t have.” They all thought it was a quick repartee. But it didn’t change anything. Sam was becoming more of a girl in their eyes than he wanted. And there was nothing that he could do to change that impression.

And Grace made his status even clearer when she moved the conversation along. “Samantha, you look so pretty. I know you have put a lot of effort into this week, and I for one believe it has paid dividends.” The other women agreed. “Tell me darling, what kind of bra are you wearing? You look so good on top.”

Gulp. This conversation was getting stranger and stranger. Grace was going to take the rest of the meal and move the conversation into girl talk. And she was going to make sure that Sam was going to be in the middle. They were going to start with clothes and fashion and move into other typically female topics.

Sam stammered for a moment and tried to answer, “I don’t know for sure. It’s white.”

The women laughed. Lisa came to the rescue, “It’s an Olga underwire, back-hook and no padding.”

“No padding?” Grace asked in surprise. “My goodness girl, how big are you?”

Again the other women chuckled and Sam remained stumped. “I don’t know.”

Grace looked over at Lisa who responded, “36C. Samantha is using Amoena breast forms.”

“36C? No wonder you look so good. You’re very big Samantha. Lisa, how big are you?”

“I’m 34C grandma.”

“How about you Mona?”

Mona looked right at Sam and said, “36C. We’re the same size.”

“How nice,” Grace said. “You can trade bras. Maggie, time to tell.”

Maggie also looked at Sam and said, “I’m a little bigger, 38C.”

“Eunice?”

“I’m too old and droopy to get into this conversation. But I’ll tell you what I used to wear, exactly the same as Maggie. And we did trade once in a while,” she giggled.

Mona quickly jumped in, “Mother, you started this, how big are you?”

She laughed and said, “I plead the fifth. I’m with Eunice.”

Sam was shocked once more. He couldn’t believe they were going around the table revealing their bra sizes. He shouldn’t be here during this kind of conversation. He wasn’t one of the girls. This was definitely girl talk, and not meant for mixed company. But Sam just didn’t get the big picture. This wasn’t mixed company; he was going to be treated as one of the girls from now on.

Once more Grace came back to Sam, “Samantha, what size is that suit you are wearing. It looks wonderful on you; with your corset it really brings out your curves.”

“I’m not sure,” he said blushing. The other women noticed his blush and knew they were pushing him further than he wanted to go. He didn’t feel comfortable in this conversation and that is exactly what they wanted. Not that humiliation was their goal, but it was fun teasing the boy. No, they wanted him to feel like he was being treated as one of the girls. They wanted him to think that this cross-dressing was more than just dressing. Sam was becoming a girl in the minds of these other women.

“Samantha is wearing one of Harriet’s old suits. So that would make it a 12,” Lisa offered.

“Well Harriet certainly isn’t a 12 anymore,” Grace said. “The last pictures that I saw of her she looked more like an 8.”

“Yes, that is what she wrote in her last letter,” Mona confirmed.

“What size dress do you wear Lisa?”

“I wear a 10, grandmother.”

“That means Harriet is smaller than you now. I guess that school has done her some good!”

For some reason everyone laughed. Sam didn’t understand the joke.

“Well Samantha, maybe you have something to shoot for now,” Grace said.

“I don’t understand. Shoot for what?”

“A size 8 dress, Samantha dear” and she laughed lightly. “Harriet did it, so maybe you can too.” Then she set her hand on Sam’s and said, “I am only joking dear. It’s just that we are so proud of Harriet. She has come a long way.”

Sam shrugged to signify that he didn’t understand.

Grace leaned close to him and whispered, “Harriet was born with a disadvantage, that’s all. It’s something we don’t like to talk about,” and she cut off further questions about Harriet.

Entrees arrived and everyone began eating. Everyone watched Sam as he ate his lasagna and sipped his wine. They watched so much that he was becoming self-conscious. After several minutes Grace said, “You are doing a very good job eating. Lisa has taught you well.”

Now Sam understood why they were watching him. They were checking his feminine table manners and his eating. “I guess I passed,” he thought.

Grace moved the discussion along to Samantha’s dressing preferences. “Samantha, what kind of stockings are you wearing?”

“Nylons.”

“Oh I know that. I mean do you prefer garters and regular stockings, or do you use pantyhose or self-holding thigh-highs?”

“Oh. I’m wearing thigh-highs.”

“Is that what you prefer?”

“I guess.”

“I’m an old fashioned girl myself. I like the feel of a garter against my leg. How about you Lisa?”

“I prefer garters too. They just seem so much more feminine.”

Grace glanced around the table for the others to respond.

“Old fashioned, I’m afraid.

“Me too.”

“Can’t beat them.”

Grace looked at Sam, “But I think the thigh-highs have more styles available now. It’s hard to find some of those glittery stockings or the elaborate lacing in my old-brand.”

The conversation covered stockings for a few more minutes. “So what else have you been doing this week?” Grace asked Sam.

Finally, a change of topic. “Mostly riding and swimming.”

“I heard that,” Grace acknowledged. “Lisa loves to ride her Cinnamon. What horse have you been riding?”

“Abigail.”

“She is an excellent starter, and very tolerant of an unsure hand. And Jennifer tells me she likes boys.”

“I wouldn’t know about that, but she has been easy to learn on.”

“Lisa also tells me that you have been wearing your bra and breast forms while riding.”

Damn she knew how to humiliate a boy! Right back to intimate and embarrassing girl stuff. “Yeah,” was all that Sam said.

Lisa came to his defense. “Samantha glued on her forms to get more used to them for Saturday. Naturally she has to wear a bra with them, especially while riding.”

“I know,” Grace said. “Otherwise the jiggling might knock you out,” she said to Sam. Everyone started laughing loudly. Sam began blushing even more. Sam laughed just a little to be polite.

“It’s kind of fun isn’t it? Bouncing your breasts and showing them off. Those breast forms probably jiggled all over when you were riding. Trust me, we all understand. It’s just part of the fun of being a girl.” The other women all agreed.

Once again, Grace took Sam’s hand and held it while she spoke. “I understand all of this Samantha. I know what you’ve been wearing and why. And again I want to say that we all appreciate your efforts. Have you been wearing one of Harriet’s bikinis when you go swimming?’

Why did she bring that up? “Yes.”

Plates were removed and orders were placed for dessert. During dessert the women talked about the latest fashion show in town. Mona urged Maggie to pick up one or two of the latest dresses for work. They asked Lisa about school work and talked about fashion with her. Which way were dress hems going on campus? The rest of the meal’s conversation covered girl talk, but left Sam out of the picture. He was happy for that little respite.

At the end of the meal the women took out their lipstick and freshened their lip color. Sam was expected to do the same. He opened the little clutch purse on his lap, and took out his lipstick and the compact mirror. He opened his mirror first, then his lipstick and while holding the mirror in his left hand he daintily applied the lipstick with his right. He softly touched his lips together, inspected their appearance in his mirror, and apparently satisfied with his performance he returned everything to his purse.

“Excellent job, Samantha,” Grace complimented him. “You’re going to be fine on Saturday. Eunice, why don’t you call George and have him bring the limo around. Mona, you might want to call Chas. I guess we’re done here. The little girl’s room is that way, Samantha. Just in case you need to use it before we leave.”

“Thanks, maybe I should.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lisa said.

The girl’s rest room was unoccupied when they arrived. “Hang your coat on the back of the door, and since you are wearing a skirt you can take it off and hang it also. That way there isn’t a chance for an accident.”

Sam entered one stall and Lisa entered the adjacent. “How was your meal?” she asked Sam.

“Ok. The lasagna was fine.”

“I think grandmother really likes you.”

“I guess.”

“Oh, I’m sure. I have never seen her so animated. Usually she says very little at dinner. She normally let’s everyone else do the talking.”

“Really?” Sam wasn’t so happy that she had done all of the talking tonight.

“Yeah. I can’t believe how much she was talking to you. It was just like you were one of the family.”

“I know.” What Sam really meant to say was, “I know that everyone in the family is a girl.” But he left that unstated.

They finished their business and met at the sink. As they washed their hands Lisa looked in the mirror and saw Sam’s necklace. “You know how I know grandma likes you?”

“How?”

“Your necklace. That had to cost at least five thousand dollars.”

“Really?” Sam was amazed. “It cost five grand?”

“At least. She likes you Samantha. No doubt about it.”

Strange thoughts entered Sam’s mind. “What in the world am I going to do with a five thousand dollar necklace? Wear it to gym class? This is so fucked up.”

CHAPTER 15

For Sam, Thursday night was once again spent sleeping in his female under garments. But he did loosen his corset just a hint before going to bed. The corset was extremely difficult for Sam to accept. Yes, he was getting a little more used to wearing it, but it was very constrictive and nothing reminded him of his feminization more than the corset. Not his breast forms, not his brassiere, not his panties and not even his negligee. The others could almost be ignored while sleeping, but not that damn corset.

Lisa in her guest room, and Mona and Maggie in the study watched Sam loosen his corset as he got ready for bed. No one was too concerned. The big point was that he was still wearing it to bed. None of them would have done that, so they were thrilled that their little poppet was still doing it.

Friday morning was another home day. Sam changed into clean panties and bra, and Lisa found him another clean pair of her old, tight-fitting jodhpurs. He slipped on his boots and a clean blouse from Harriet’s room and joined Maggie for an extended breakfast. Maggie was very good at putting Sam at ease, and Sam enjoyed talking with her. Maggie really seemed to understand him. It was almost as if Maggie had gone through the same things as Sam was now experiencing. Little did Sam know.

Sam was getting more comfortable on Abigail, and Jennifer was slowly extending his lessons each day. She was teaching Sam some new things, and Sam and Abigail were doing quite well. While Jennifer gave Sam his lessons, Lisa and Cinnamon went jumping and working on her dressage. When Jennifer was finished, Lisa would take Sam on the trails around their estate.

“I have to take you to the farm sometime. There are lot’s more trails and we can do a lot of running. You’re getting good enough that you could appreciate the farm.”

“Where’s the farm?” Sam asked.

“The one I’m talking about is in North Carolina.”

“How far away is that?”

The chatter continued for the rest of their ride, and Lisa used Sam’s riding as another future tool to help control him. Everything the Hawthorne family did was planned to pull Sam further into their plans and limit his abilities to resist.

After riding, Maggie made them a small (fat-free and nutritious) snack. Again Sam chatted with Maggie about cars, and electronics. Afterwards it was up to Harriet’s room to change. Lisa gave Sam a bright white bikini for the afternoon swim. She also gave Sam a swimming cap to keep his hair dry. Sam used it, but it was unnecessary since he found it safer not to put his head in the water.

The kids swam, and tanned (at least Lisa tanned), and chatted the first half of the afternoon away. At 3:00 it was time to get ready for their drive into town. When they entered Harriet’s closet to look for a dress Lisa said, “Mom made a suggestion concerning your dress today. You don’t have to do it, but she thought it might be good practice.”

“What is it?” Sam asked warily.

“To help you practice for sitting and crossing your legs, she thought a mini-skirt would be good for you. It will ride up above the knee and will make you more self conscious about where the hemline is. She thinks it will help you adjust your sitting position and just be good practice overall. What do you think?”

“As long as it isn’t too short, I don’t want anything to peak out.”

Lisa laughed. “Everything is tucked away very nicely, so nothing will peak out. But I understand your thinking. And that is partly why mom suggested it. It will help you be conscious of what you are doing.”

“Are we going out in public tonight?” he asked.

“No, that wasn’t the plan. We are supposed to come back here for one more night of dressing and practice.”

“Hmmm.”

“Did you want to go out?”

“We haven’t done anything together except for one movie this whole week,” he complained.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I really did expect us to go out more often. I was hoping to go out dancing too. But then grandmother came up with this deal, and I really wanted you to come to the party. You’ll get to hobnob with some powerful people, and see some people show off their money. I just thought it would be very interesting for you.” She paused for a minute.

“And I thought it would give you a chance to see what my family is really like. I was worried that you would think us too snobby and you wouldn’t like me anymore. I really like you Sam, and I was afraid that just seeing the house and pool and limos and stuff would scare you off. I know we have money and I know that it can be intimidating. That’s why I never said anything about it at school.

“So I wanted to get you home and show you how well you could fit in, what with riding and swimming and the evening shows that we never went to. But I figured Saturday would be my big chance to show you how people can have lots of money, but still enjoy the fellowship of friends and have a nice evening together. We’re not all that much different from everyone else.”

Sam sighed. “I like you too Lisa. I have to admit that I was a little scared when I found out how rich you are. I don’t have any money, and I was worried about how your family would treat me.”

“See, that is why I wanted to take you to the dinner party Saturday.”

“I understand,” and Sam gave Lisa a hug and kiss.

“Thanks,” Lisa said. “And even though this isn’t what I had planned, I think grandmother’s idea has forced us even closer together. We have had to spend more time together preparing for Saturday and making you pretty and passable.” With a twinkle in her eye she added, “And you got to see what it is like to have boobs and go bounce them around while riding a horse. Not every boy gets to do that.”

Sam chuckled just a bit. “And wear a corset around the clock,” in mock disgust.

“Sometimes you have to take the bad with the good.”

“Let me tell you, this corset is no picnic.”

“I know. And again I thank you for doing everything you have done. You have been an angel,” and she gave him another kiss.

“So we’re back here tonight for more torture?”

“Rehearsal. I think that sounds better than torture, don’t you.”

“I guess.”

“And besides, your hair is going to be rolled up and in a scarf. It probably wouldn’t look good at dinner or a show.”

“You’re right,” he said resignedly. “So what am I wearing to the salon?”

Lisa held up a black lace mini dress with jersey lining, lace frill down the front and delicate lace trim around the neckline. The lace sleeves were long with patterns in the shear fabric.

“What do you think Sam? Do you like it?”

“It’s pretty enough, and short enough. I will have to pay attention when I sit down.”

“And that’s the purpose of it,” Lisa said enthusiastically. “You want to pay attention so it becomes more natural tomorrow.”

Sam put on his dress and a pair of 4 inch heels. If nothing else, he was learning to walk in high heels this week. That thought triggered additional thoughts; he was also learning to wear brassieres, lipstick, nylon stockings and an entire host of other things that he didn’t want to learn about. This was wrong. This whole thing was just wrong.

After a moment of self-pity Lisa prodded him along. “Let me call Maggie and we can do your makeup.” Sam pushed his hair behind his ears and plopped himself down in the vanity chair. What else was he supposed to learn? He glanced at his pink nails as he pulled down the hem to his skirt. It was short!

Maggie did his normal style makeup for the evening, so it was a little dramatic for daytime. She dropped a few items in Sam’s black purse, and then she gathered up her cosmetics and walked down to the limo with the kids. Maggie was watching Sam walk and she was pleased with what she saw. “Samantha, that dress does great justice to you. It shows off your long legs and the thin waist you have. You’ve got your girl walk down absolutely perfect, and in those heels and that dress you look like a model from behind. Men are going to notice!” Maggie gave a clandestine thumb up to Lisa.

“Just what I needed,” Sam sighed.

Maggie was holding the rear door to the limo open while Sam tried to slide in without his skirt sliding up too far. Lisa whispered to Maggie, “Make us walk to the salon, I want him to show off his legs.”

When they reached Washington Maggie said, “If you don’t mind I’ll drop you off on fourth. We’re into the start of rush hour and I could get stuck on Cedar for a long time. I don’t want you to miss your appointment.”

Lisa quickly agreed, “No problem.”

Maggie found a spot to double park, and she opened the rear door for them. Lisa hopped right out, but Sam slowly slid across the car seat, and carefully placed both feet on the street before he stood. He quickly pushed his skirt down as far as he could — which wasn’t far. They stepped over to the sidewalk and Lisa gave Maggie a little wave.

Lisa touched Sam’s arm and pointed, “This direction.” Maggie had given them a six block walk and Sam had to concentrate the entire distance. Twice Lisa said something to Sam and he missed it. The sidewalks were just as busy as the previous night and Sam was getting even more attention. With his heavy makeup, 4 inch heels and short skirt he looked hot. His training had paid off and he walked and moved like a real girl. He wasn’t strutting or wiggling his hips like a young girl might do to draw more boy attention, but he still received more than enough attention.

There was a slight wind and it easily blew up his legs and gave him that scary sensation he had experienced the night before. But now his skirt was even shorter and his apprehension even higher. It was a nerve wracking experience for the amateur girl. He looked straight ahead, and more often than not down at the sidewalk. He didn’t want to chance a crack in the sidewalk tripping him up. The click-clack of his heels, the wind blowing around his legs and the stares from the men constantly reminded what he was wearing and what he must look like.

Only Sam didn’t fully understand what he looked like. Dressed as he was, and with his long hair blowing around him he looked not only sexy, but young. He looked like one of those sexy young girls that work behind the cosmetics counter in the department stores. Like those girls, he was dressed and made-up to draw attention. The men couldn’t keep their eyes off him, and like Maggie, they appreciated the view from behind, just as much as from the front.

Sam could feel those eyes on him and they sent shivers up his spine and puckered his cute tush. Walking became twice as hard as he concentrated on holding shoulders back, pushing his hips out just a bit and getting those legs to take turns stepping in front of each other. His elbows were turned in, and his arms swung ever so slightly beside him.

For her part Lisa was enjoying the show. She liked turning heads herself, but she was thrilled that Sam was catching as much attention as he was. They had done an excellent job of dressing him today, and this walk just brought in tons more compliments. She was flashing smiles at the men as Sam was concentrating on his walking. “Smile,” she whispered to him, but he never heard her.

They reached a corner and had to stop for a light. She leaned over and again said, “Smile more. Relax, you’re too tense.” He tried to relax, but it was just impossible. He ginned up a bit of a smile as they were off across the street. A man winked at Sam. A couple more said hello. Even the girls were looking at him.

For six long blocks he concentrated on surviving. Finally they reached the Hawthorne Building and stepped inside. He still wasn’t home free. The first floor had a lobby and several shops that were filled with people. But he was close now. He could taste victory. Remembering Lisa’s words he smiled and relaxed just a little. He allowed his arms to swing just a bit more and his hips wiggled a tiny bit more. As they pushed their way through the crowd, Lisa stepped behind Sam to walk in single file. She could sense the change in Sam’s attitude and could see his step relax. Damn! He looked good from the back. His corset had squeezed down his waist, the dress and those high heels made his legs look shapely and long, and his hair flowing behind him truly did make him into one cute girl.

Lisa had picked a winner!

Sam finally reached the salon and stepped into safety. He let out a soft sigh and looked at Lisa. “God that was scary!”

“You did wonderful, Samantha. You have it down perfectly. You are one convincing chick! And pretty to boot!”

“Thanks,” he said, but what he thought was, “Just what a guy wants to hear; you make a hot chick. Fuck!”

Florence greeted them and called over Olivia, who led the two of them to her work area. Sam was seated in front of a sink and Olivia washed and conditioned his hair. Then she spent a long time wrapping towels around Sam’s head and trying to soak up the excess water. She didn’t want to rub his head with the towels, so she kept wrapping dry towels around his hair and tried to sop up the water that way. When Olivia felt that Sam’s hair wasn’t too damp she moved him over to her styling station.

The actual setting of Sam’s hair took less time than the drying. Olivia sectioned about a one inch square of scalp and drew out the hair in to a bundle, then wrapped it around a finger. Half way to the scalp she removed her finger and held the ring tightly while she continued to roll it up against the scalp. At that point the ring of hair was perpendicular to Sam’s scalp. She gave the ring a half twist and laid it down flat, then fastened it with pins. Voila! One ring done.

When she was done, Olivia did a survey to make sure every ring was tightly pinned down, then she tied a silk scarf over Sam’s head. “I suggest sleeping on a silk pillowcase if you have one,” Olivia said. “This scarf will slide smoothly over the silk pillow and there will be less chance of pulling a pin.”

“How about satin pillow cases?” asked Sam.

“Just as good. You’re done Samantha. I don’t know who will brush out your hair tomorrow, but I’m sure you’re going to have a beautiful style. Enjoy the party!”

Lisa signed and called Maggie to make sure she was in the normal parking location. She and Sam walked through the lobby to the reserved elevator and waited in front of it. “Aren’t you going to call it?” Sam asked.

“Nope. Maggie is coming down and she will stop it here.” Sam patted his head and felt the silky smoothness of the scarf as it flowed over his curls. “How does it feel? Can I touch?” Lisa asked.

As Lisa slid her hand over the scarf Sam answered, “Kind of tight and a little damp. It’s a new sensation for me.” Lisa gave him a smile. The elevator chimed, and the doors opened to show Maggie waiting for them.

“How did everything go, Samantha?”

“Fine, no problems.”

“Your first salon wash and set. That’s kind of a special day for a girl,” Maggie said.

“I guess,” Sam answered. But his mind was rebelling with the thought, “I’m not a girl, damn it!”

When they reached the estate, the two kids met Mona in the salon. They exchanged their practice greetings, then Mona stepped back to survey Sam. “You look really good in that dress, Samantha. It really shows off your legs, and I must say you have gorgeous legs. That dress and your scarf remind me of a 40’s pinup girl. They used to wear scarves like that for their cheesecake poses. You’ve got the legs and curves for a nice pinup poster yourself. Maybe you can have Maggie make one for Lisa’s bedroom.”

“Mom! Enough already!”

Sam was getting flustered by all of these girly compliments. He didn’t care how good he looked, he didn’t want to be continuously complimented and reminded of his girl persona. And now Mona wanted a picture of him pretending to be a female pinup in his girlfriend’s bedroom? That was just beyond weird.

“We’ll get some pictures of you in that dress when Maggie gets changed into her maid uniform. In the meantime, please sit.” Sam sat as he had been taught. “Nice, please walk over here.” Sam stood and walked with his feminine stride. “Beautiful. You’re turning into a beautiful woman, Samantha. Everything you do looks wonderful.

“About the only item that really needs work is your voice. You’re doing well, but we will probably have to give you a little help tomorrow. Let’s start the DVD with you standing.”

Before he started his voice training Sam wanted to know what type of help Mona was referring to.

“I talked with our clinic doctor today. She gave me a mouthwash that you can gargle with before the party. It tightens your vocal cords and raises their pitch just a bit. But what it does best is make you slightly hoarse. That will cover your voice just enough to make you passable. Once before dinner and once after you need to use an inhaler she gave me, just to keep the cords tight. The medicine wears off in only a matter of hours.

“Will that be alright with you Samantha? It is approved by a doctor.”

Sam didn’t like the idea of messing around with drugs, and he considered this a drug, but it had been approved by a doctor. “Just as long as it isn’t permanent,” he said.

“Oh no,” Mona reassured him. “If you keep practicing your voice lessons, it won’t take long before you won’t need any assistance. You’re making wonderful progress on your voice as it is.”

Sam didn’t want to get into a discussion with Mona, but after tomorrow night he didn’t plan on ever doing this again. Of course he was wrong; he just didn’t see the writing on the wall yet.

Mona put him through his paces for almost an hour, then quit for Maggie to take some pictures. “Why are we still taking pictures?” Sam asked Lisa. “We’ve decided on hair and everything, haven’t we?”

“Please humor Maggie,” Lisa told him. “She likes photography and she doesn’t get to shoot models very often; especially models as pretty as you.”

“I am not pretty, damn it!” he thought to himself. Sam was getting frustrated with all of this girl talk and all these compliments about being pretty. Yeah, he knew they were trying to pump up his confidence for tomorrow, “But please, just ease back a bit,” he silently wished. “You’re trying to turn me into a real girl.”

But they wouldn’t ease back on Sam. During dinner Mona was more detailed in her inspection of Sam’s eating manners. It was the toughest rehearsal he had gone through. But at the end Mona turned back into her cheerleading mode. “Samantha, how old did you tell us you were?”

“Eighteen.”

Mona looked a bit wistful, “Yes, 18. That was the same age that Lisa had her coming out party. She was a beautiful debutante and we were so proud of her. For some reason I keep thinking that tomorrow should be your coming out party. You would make such a beautiful debutante.” Somehow Mona gave Sam the type of look that demanded a response from him.

The last thing he wanted to say, but he had no choice, “Thank you Miss Mona.”

“What do you think Lisa? Maggie? Wouldn’t she be a beautiful debutante?”

Both women agreed. Sam was getting annoyed, but could say nothing. After the dinner, Mona took Sam back to the salon and he spent one more hour on his feet. “I want you to be walking in those heels tomorrow night like you’ve done it your entire life,” Mona told Sam.

“Yes, Miss Mona.”

The DVD finished playing through for the second time that evening. Mona was finished with his training. “That’s it Samantha. No more training or practice or rehearsal. Tomorrow is the real thing. You don’t have a thing to worry about. You’re going to be fine. You look beautiful, and you have learned all of your lessons better than I could have possibly wished. And best of all, I have watched you these last couple of days, and you look so comfortable and natural as a girl that nobody will be the wiser. Thank you so much for putting forward all of the energy and effort that you have shown. You’re going to be the hit of the party. Now off to bed with the two of you. We have an exciting day ahead of us.”

Lisa followed Sam to Harriet’s room, just because she wanted to ogle Sam’s legs on the way up the stairs. Sam stripped down to his undergarments and then slipped on his robe and followed Lisa back to her bedroom. They spent just a little time snogging and petting before Lisa sent him off to get ready for bed. She went to her guest room to do the same.

As soon as Lisa was in her room she turned on the monitor and watched Sam prepare for bed. He removed his underwire bra and panty girdle and used the toilet. Then he removed his makeup the way Lisa had taught him and he moisturized his face before brushing his teeth. Lisa had left him a sleeping bra, so he slipped it on like an expert, then slid his negligee over his head.

Sam found his lip plumping balm and walked over to the large mirror to finish his nightly routine. He slid it over his lips while he watched himself in the mirror, then slid the cap back on the balm and just looked at his reflection. He stood there for several moments while his emotions from the past week came bubbling to the surface and finally he was able to voice out loud all of his pent up frustrations.

“What the fuck am I doing? I’m standing here putting on lip plumper to make my lips big and pouty! I am getting ready to go to bed in my girl friend’s bedroom, and I’m wearing her satin negligee. And that’s just the start. I have long hair and I am going to go to bed with my hair rolled up and a scarf over the curlers. Tomorrow I get it styled. And wait there’s more! I also have boobs glued to my chest and I’m wearing a bra. Jesus H. Christ, I’m wearing a fuckin’ for real bra. But hey, that’s not all! I’m also wearing a corset that has been cutting me in half all week. Yeah, that’s right, I’m not just wearing it to bed, but I’ve been wearing it for a week.

“Man, what is wrong with me?” he asked dejectedly. “Why didn’t I go to Daytona Beach? I can see it all now. I get back to the dorm and there is my room mate, all tanned with a shit eating grin on his face. “How was Florida?” I ask. “Great, wonderful. You should have been there. Look at my great tan. And the girls were awesome. Gorgeous. I got laid 3 times. So how was your vacation? Did you get laid?”

“Well, not exactly. It was different,” I tell him. “How so?” he asks. “Well I went home with my girlfriend to meet her family. I find out they’re just about the richest people on the planet and I’m not exactly in their socio-economic circle. When I get there I get the third degree and I find out her mother hates me. I don’t know why they even kept me around for a week. I guess they felt sorry for the little poor kid or something.

“Then they’re having this big party, but I can’t go as me. I’m not good enough for them, so they turn me into a girl. I spend the rest of the week dressing and acting and pretending to be a girl. I went to the beauty salon more times than you got laid. I’m standing here right now with pink nails and curlers in my hair, both compliments of my latest trips to the salon.

“I spent the week wearing tits and a bra. I had to wear a corset almost around the clock so that I could get used to it and be a better girl for them at their party. Christ! How fucked up is that? You got laid and I got to be a girl.”

“And when the week is over, she’ll dump me. I mean what girl wants a femmed up boy friend? And of course there’s the money thing. Why did she bring me home in the first place? I’ve got no money or rich friends. I’ve got no social training. I don’t belong in their world.

“I’m toast. Dumped like a bag of rocks. Like a femmed up bag of rocks. But I guess it wasn’t a total waste. I know how to walk and talk and sit and stand just like a real girl. And hey, I got my legs waxed. How cool will that look in the boy’s shower?”

Sam walked over to the bed and dropped on it. “Yea, how totally screwed up can one guy get? And fuck it, I like her. But what can she possibly see in me? I’m nothing more than a play toy, a Barbie doll. Tomorrow she shows me off as her girly sorority sister, and Monday she sends me back to the ghetto as useless trash.” Sam was turning into an emotional wreck.

Lisa was going into shock as she watched the spectacle. She quickly called her mom and cried, “I’m losing him! I’m losing him!”

“Relax dear, we will not lose him. We pushed pretty hard this week and we talked about the potential pitfalls. Remember? We talked about this.”

“Yes mom, but …”

“And we have a contingency plan, right?”

“Yeah, but will it work?”

“Of course it will dear. Trust me. Now you know what you have to do.”

Lisa took a big breath to calm herself down. “Right, I need to give him my thank you present tonight. I have to make sure that he knows that I really love him and I like him for what he has done for me this week.”

“That’s correct. We’ve talked about sex and how to use it. You heard him talking about getting laid. Sex is important to him and it will assuage most of his worries. Do you have condoms?”

“Of course.”

“And remember, he is dressed in girl’s clothes. That makes him the submissive in your relationship. That part starts tonight. Make sure that he is the submissive and you are the aggressor. You have to be on top when you first make love to him. That is very important. Understand?”

“Yes, yes, yes. We’ve been over this a hundred times. But will it save him?”

“Go find out. And good luck.”

“Mom, one more thing. I don’t feel comfortable with you watching. I want you to promise to turn off your monitor for the rest of the night. And tomorrow night too.”

“I promise. Now go save Samantha.”

The lights were out, Sam was snuggled in his satin sheets and satin negligee, wearing his silk scarf over his curled and pinned hair and lying on a satin pillowcase. And he was feeling as depressed as any pre-suicidal boy ever felt. He heard the knock on the door and didn’t really want to answer it. He wanted to wallow in his self pity rather than hear about what a great girl he made. Lisa knocked a second time, then cracked the door just a little.

In a small voice Lisa called out, “Sam? Sam, can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Lisa stepped in and closed the door. She tip-toed over to her bed and found the night light on the nightstand. She dropped a small package on the stand, flipped on the light and sat down on the bed next to Sam. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Ok,” he answered.

“Sam. I have something to say. Please listen and don’t say anything, ok?” Sam said nothing. “Sam, I’ll just come right out and say it; I really, really like you. When I brought you home to meet my parents, I admit that I didn’t know how things were going to go. My mom can be difficult at times, as you well know. And there is a difference in our family finances, to put it kindly. But I thought I liked you and I wanted to take that chance.”

She paused for a big sigh. “I was terrified as to how things might turn out, but it was the best thing I ever did. What you have done this week is beyond the ability of mere mortals. You have shown me so much love and respect that I can’t begin to explain how much you have meant to me. I am so sorry that we didn’t go out to movies and go dancing and spend more time together alone. But I can’t imagine ever coming closer to you than with what we have been through this week.

“You have been an angel, and angels need to be rewarded. I know that I have told you that I am saving myself for someone special. Well, I have found that someone special and I want to spend the night with you. I want to say thank you in the most special and intimate way that I can think of. May I join you in bed for the night?”

Sam was in shock, again. What a weird week this had turned out to be! But Sam still liked and respected Lisa too much to let her do this without one final, sincere question, “Are you sure about this? Because once it’s done it can’t be undone.”

Lisa stood and untied the sash on her robe, and slid it off her shoulders. The satin robe fell to the floor, leaving her in standing in her frilly, pink, baby-doll negligee. Without speaking she lifted the hem of her negligee over her head and pulled it off, letting it drop to the floor also. Standing there in the glow of a single 60 watt light bulb, her skin glistening with anticipation she said, “Sam, I have never wanted anything so much in my life. Yes, I am sure. May I join you?”

Sam lifted the satin sheet off his body and welcomed her. Lisa lay down on top of Sam’s body and began kissing him in the most intimate way they had ever kissed. She was slow and testing as she gradually penetrated his lips with her tongue. At the same time, Lisa was gently pressing her breasts against the fake breasts trapped inside Sam’s brassiere. “Samantha’s brassier,” she thought. “I am making love to Samantha, and she feels so right for me. Her breasts feel so real and so soft pressing back against me.”

No longer tucked and trapped beneath layers of silk and spandex, Sam pushed his penis upwards and against the body of his lovely Lisa. It felt so fine and right and delightful. Lisa was paying attention and didn’t let him dry hump her too long. She didn’t want to take a chance on him reaching orgasm too soon. She rolled over on the side of Sam and reached down to take his penis in her warm hands and began stroking and rubbing his hard erection. “He’s not very big,” she thought. “But she has a wonderful clit.” She smiled to herself as she continued to plunge her tongue into his mouth and at the same time she continued to softly and slowly stroke his penis.

After a few moments Sam began tensing and Lisa knew she had to back off. She released Sam’s penis and told him, “Rest just a moment.” The condom was lying right where she had dropped it on the table. She found the condom, opened it and unrolled it in the dark. “Hold your negligee up, I have something for you to slide into.” Sam did as he was told and tried to push his erection higher in the air so Lisa could find it more easily. She slid the condom on her lover, then threw a leg over Sam and straddled him and his encased penis.

Lisa again lay on top of Sam, pushing her breasts against his, and found his lips with hers. “If his lips are bigger it’s not by much,” she thought as they resumed their French kissing. She refused to let Sam enter her, as she pushed herself against his penis, swishing it back and forth between their bodies. Sam resumed his pushing against her, and she knew she would have to relent and let him enter her.

Lisa sat up and raised herself off Sam by just a little. She reached down and found his penis and guided it into her. Then she lowered herself onto Sam and squeezed his entrapped member using her vaginal muscles. Sam immediately started pushing against her, and Lisa tried to slow him down. “Stop my pretty lover. Don’t move,” she told him. “Just rest for a moment. Feel me squeeze you and let us enjoy this sensation. Remain still and let me have you for my very own.”

She remained in a squatting position over Sam and slowly squeezed her thighs and vaginal muscles against Sam’s penis. Then she would relax and allow him to relax also. Sam would get anxious and try to press deeper into her moist pussy. “Relax dear. Relax and let me do the work. Feel me and enjoy me. Let me take control,” she whispered to him. She leaned forward and touched his breasts. She gently massaged them envisioning the day when Sam’s breast would be real and they would respond to her touch and caress. She couldn’t wait until the day that she could lick and nibble his hard nipples.

Instead of rocking up and down, she began sliding back and forth, letting Sam’s penis slide in and out just the slightest. “Can you feel this?” she asked.

“Oh yes.”

“Don’t move. Remain perfectly still and let me do this for you. Let me slowly bring you to climax my sweetheart. For five long minutes she slid back and forth, then up and down very slowly. She pressed against him so that her very own clitoris received the maximum attention and pleasure that she could milk from her lover. Twice she shuddered and came to a stop as she reached orgasm. She held very still and waited for the shudders to penetrate through her body and finally come to a halt. She could feel her nipples harden and she told Sam, “Feel my breasts and nipples. Touch them, squeeze them and play with them. Arouse me with your soft touch,” she instructed him.

Sam felt her breasts, their soft skin and texture, their desire to swing freely and jiggle when his lover moved her body. And when she achieved her orgasm, he could feel those nipples engorge and harden. Lisa continued to use Sam’s penis to stimulate her clitoris and she soon had Sam soaking wet from her fluids. A third orgasm and then a fourth. She was breathing so hard that she couldn’t go on much longer; she had to bring this to a close. She fell forward and lay on Sam’s body as she picked up her speed. She began squeezing even harder and moving even faster as she slid up and down on Sam’s erection. She slammed her hips against his and her cunt against his pelvis. Harder and harder she pushed until she achieved her fifth and most spectacular orgasm. She let out a scream as she forced her body against Sam’s and felt his pulsing penis ejaculating inside her. She tensed all her muscles as she held Sam inside her with all her might and desire.

And finally her energy and strength left her. She fell onto her lover’s body in a slippery mass of quivering flesh. How grand. How glorious. How magnificent. How lovely. She, Lisa Hawthorne had taken the virginity of a boy, and had held him submissive the entire time. Her body shuddered one more time at the thought of how she had sexually controlled the boy lying under her heaving and sweating body. She had feminized him and put him into female accoutrements, and then she had made love to him. He now belonged to her. That was her hope and desire.

“That was beautiful, Sam darling. Thank you.” She allowed him to pullout of her and she fell onto the bed, exhausted. “That was wonderful,” she sighed. “Thank you so much.”

Sam said nothing as he lay beside her, panting and catching his breath. His corset had never been so confining as at this moment. His breast forms and bra had never pinched so much as right now when all he wanted to do was melt into the soft satin sheets of the bed.

He finally caught his breath and said, “Lisa, that was wonderful. You are amazing. Thank you so much. You were great.”

“You earned it, Sam. You certainly earned it.” In moments they were both breathing regularly as they fell asleep.

The Samantha Project - Chapter 16 - 20

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Illustrated

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Samantha makes a very successful debut(ante) and is tempted by Lisa’s plotting to extend an encore.

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

CHAPTER 16

The following morning they woke with the two of them lying back to back. They slowly regained their bearings and rolled to face one another. “Good morning, beautiful,” Lisa said. “How did you sleep?”

“The best ever. The best night of my life.”

Lisa’s smile beamed. “Me too. You were wonderful.”

“So were you.” Sam scooted over closer to Lisa and kissed her. He placed his hand on her breast and caressed her nipple. He could feel it harden under his touch. She shuddered slightly and smiled at him.

“What are doing?” she asked. “Are you trying to arouse me?”

“Yes I am. Is it working?”

She giggled, “Yes it is, but we can’t.”

“Why not?” and he continued to softly squeeze her breast and touch her nipple.

“Because I don’t have another condom with me.”

“Do you normally carry them with you?”

“Of course. Most girls do.”

“Really?”

“We have to. We’re the ones that get pregnant.”

“Yeah. But …”

Lisa had an idea; a brainstorm actually. “Have you ever gone down on a girl?”

“No.”

“Would you like to?” Lisa knew the answer without asking. She threw the sheet off and spread her legs. “Slide down here sweetie.” She patted the satin sheet between her legs. Sam slid down to the bottom of the bed and faced up at her. She used her own hands to open her vulva and show herself to Sam. “This is what a girl looks like,” she explained. “See up here? That’s the secret spot,” as she pointed to her clitoris. “That’s the most sensitive part of a girl. If you lick and suck there you can send a girl to heaven. But when I say stop you have to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because that spot is so sensitive that if you stimulate it too much I’ll just go crazy. It’s almost painful.”

“I see. Let me see what I can do,” and he buried his nose in her femininity.

“Oh my god,” Lisa thought. “I’ve got him just where I want him. This is what mom told me about; having dad dressed as a girl, his hair in curlers, wearing a negligee and utterly sissy-feminine as he licked her cunt. Now I too am enjoying that beautiful pleasure; just like mom!” She reached down and placed her hands on Sam’s scarf and felt the pinned curls underneath. “Oh wow. Now I just have to teach him how to listen to me. I want total control over my filly, and this is where I can start,” she thought.

Lisa began talking to Sam, directing him to do what she wanted. She had him lick and tickle her clit, then let her rest a moment by moving lower and tonguing her vagina. Then, when she had recovered sufficiently, she told him to move back to her clitoris. “Faster, slower, lower, deeper, higher,” over and over she instructed her feminized boy.

Again her thoughts went back to what her mother had told her for so many years. Her dreams were being fulfilled. The ultimate control of having a man between her legs and doing exactly what she desired; servicing her exactly as she directed him. What a fantasy! And now it was hers.

She directed Sam for several minutes as he brought her to three orgasms. Finally she had to quit, as the pleasure was becoming too intense. Sam returned to his place beside her and rolled onto his back. Now it was his turn. His turn to enjoy the bliss of having his partner between his legs and performing fellatio on him. But Lisa had different ideas. She wasn’t about to go down on Sam. Not yet at least.

“Wait just a minute, I have an idea.” Lisa rolled out of bed and went to the dirty clothes hamper. She removed a pair of Sam’s dirty panties and returned to the bed. Spooning up next to Sam, she laid the silk panties on his throbbing penis and gently pulled it over his penis, tickling and caressing him with the softness of the panties.

Sam responded as she hoped. He allowed her to return his favor, not by going down on him and performing fellatio, but by giving him a hand job with a pair of women’s panties. His own panties! Sam had just loss the battle of wills. In fact, there never would be a real battle. He had given Lisa permission to control their sex lives forevermore.

Lisa continued to stroke Sam and control his penis. When she felt him tensing, she backed off and made him wait for his reward. She squeezed his penis as hard as she could, just to see what it felt like. She bent it down and sideways, for the same reason. She brought him just to the verge of release and then backed off once more. She was exerting her control over her submissive sissy, and he was building a powerful orgasm. Lisa finally allowed him to cum and he ejaculated into her panties. Sam was a virile young boy, and he squeezed an enormous amount of cum into the panties. Lisa smiled as she let him finish his explosion of ecstasy.

“Thank you,” he said when he had calmed down.

“You’re welcome darling.” She used the panties to milk the remainder of the semen from his still erect penis. When she was done she placed the panties on the night stand. “We should get going. It’s going to be a big day. I’d suggest that you take a long hot bath and rest. Use my bath salts, they will moisturize and soften your skin. That will make your corset more comfortable. And don’t get your hair wet. There is a shower cap in the shower, make sure to use it.”

For the first time in several days Sam didn’t mind being told how to feminize his body. Things were so much better in his mind now. His emotions were no longer fighting against the inevitable. Today he was thankful and happy. Maybe not quite giddy; he still didn’t really want to do this. But he felt better about the entire situation. Lisa really did love him. She wasn’t going to dump him after spending a night like that with him. He could handle one more day as a girl. Now things were more acceptable. It was a wonder what one night, one special night, could do for a boy’s ego. And the morning didn’t hurt either.

Sam rolled out of bed to go ready himself for his big debut. “Don’t shave,” Lisa reminded him. “We’ll do that at the salon later today.”

“I know,” he said as he gave her a smile.

“Oh, and clean these, please,” she asked as she handed him the silk girl’s panties that he had worn the day before and soiled just moments earlier.

Lisa skipped down to her room and turned on her monitor, just in time to see Sam remove his corset liner and finish undressing. “I love those boobs sticking out of his chest,” she said to no one. “Someday you will have real boobs my lovely little boy,” she said to Sam.

She watched as Sam started the bath and poured in a generous slug of bath salts. Then he put his panties in the sink and ran warm water over them as he washed his semen out of his panties. He looked through the cabinets in Lisa’s bath until he found some Woolite. He poured it in the sink and let his panties begin soaking. Sam found Lisa’s shower cap and carefully placed it over his pin curls, then slid into a luxurious bath. A smile of contentment filled his face.

“Wonderful,” Lisa said as she quickly stripped off her baby doll and ran to her shower. Lisa too was contented. She had just prevented her boyfriend from having a meltdown and finding his way out of her plan. She had enjoyed wonderful sex — she too had lost her virginity the night before — and best of all was this morning. She couldn’t believe how exciting and satisfying it was to have Sam between her legs while wearing his hair in curlers. It was more exciting than she had ever dreamed. Her mother had tried to tell her how powerful a feeling she would enjoy, controlling her feminized boy while he tongued and licked her to an orgasm. She had dreamed about it but just couldn’t truly imagine the feelings from the ego trip it would send her on. Now she could, and it was just exhilarating beyond words.

And the panty idea! That was a stroke of genius, if she said so herself. It was certainly an ad-libbed move on her part and it had worked phenomenally well. She didn’t have to go down on the boy, and he had accepted the lesser alternative that she had offered him. “I wonder what it would be like to suck off a man?” she asked the shower. “Someday I will have to find out. Just once, for curiosity.”

Sam came walking down to the small dining room wearing Lisa’s old, undersized jodhpurs, Harriet’s boots and blouse, and the beauty salon’s Hermes silk scarf over his pin curls. Under his riding clothes he was of course wearing his silk panties and a short panty girdle, his corset liner and corset, an underwire bra with lace cups and of course his Amoena C cup breast forms. Sitting at the table were Miss Mona and Maggie who unbeknownst to Sam were his future mother and father in-law.

“Good morning Samantha. Let me guess what you’re doing this morning.” Mona said. Sam just shrugged and smiled back at the rhetorical question. Then Mona grinned and said, “Did you have a good night sleep?”

Mona’s question coupled with her grin totally caught Sam by surprise. He was tongue twisted and didn’t know what to say. Fortunately Lisa entered the room and deflected the question. Sam spent his breakfast staring at the silly grins on Mona and Maggie. He wasn’t sure what they knew and he was afraid of saying anything. All Sam wanted to do was eat and run to the stables.

But before he got to the stables, Mona placed a package before him. Sam was surprised and his face showed it. He didn’t know what to say. “Samantha, you have been such a good sport all week, working so hard and looking so beautiful, that I wanted to say thank you. This is just a little something for you.”

Sam opened the package and found a top of the line — a very top of the line — laptop computer. He was shocked. It had to cost over $3000.

“Lisa said your computer was acting up. Is it ok?”

“It’s phenomenal. Thank you very, very much.”

“Well, you have to thank Maggie too. She’s the technical one around here, and she actually picked it out for you.”

Sam turned to Maggie and thanked her.

“Samantha, it was my pleasure. I have loved having you here this week. You make a beautiful and stunning girl and I loved using you as my model.”

“And here are a couple of add-ons, Samantha,” Mona said as she handed Sam two small envelopes. One of the envelopes had the number one printed on it, and the other had the number 2 on the front. Sam looked surprised again, and Mona said, “Open the number one first.”

Sam opened the envelope and just looked at the card inside. “What is it?” Lisa asked.

“A five hundred dollar gift certificate for i-tunes. Thank you very much Miss Mona.” Sam was thrilled to say the least. Then he jumped to the other extreme of emotions. Sam opened the second one, and once again Mona managed to stun Sam with another one of her curve balls.

“Well?” Lisa asked.

“It’s a one thousand dollar gift certificate for Victoria’s Secret,” he said in a most perplexed voice.

“Oh, that’s my favorite!” Lisa squealed.

“I know it is,” Mona explained. “That’s why I doubled the amount Samantha, so you would have some money left over to buy some pretty things for yourself.”

Sam was still stunned. Did she think he really was a girl? He wasn’t brave enough to ask what was really on his mind, so he just said, “Thank you Miss Mona.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Samantha dear.”

“Ok kids, remember we leave here no later than 1:00. And wear a pretty dress, you’re grandmother is going with us,” and Mona excused them from the table.

Lisa helped Sam take the gifts to her room, and then head off to the stables. On the way out Sam asked Lisa a question. “Does your mom think of me as a girl?”

“Why do you ask that?” Lisa wanted to know.

“Because of the Victoria’s Secret gift card. She said I could use it to buy something for myself. They only have girl’s clothes there, right?”

“Oh that. Let me try to explain. First, she thinks she is helping you out by buying gifts for me. She knows that’s my favorite store, and if for some reason, like say my … BIRTHDAY! … if you wanted to buy me something this helps out your pocketbook.”

“But she also said that I could use it to buy something for me.”

“Well, that part is a little complicated. She dotes on her daughter, that’s me. And you have been with her daughter all week, and you have been dressing and practicing to be a pretty girl. I think in her mind she is combining the two of us together. What I like, in her mind, she thinks you should like also. Don’t worry about it, it’s only mother,” and Lisa dismissed Sam’s concerns.

Jennifer met the kids at the barn and helped Sam saddle Abigail. Lisa was on Cinnamon and out the barn door in no time flat. Jennifer took Sam and Abigail to the inside paddock and began Sam’s morning lesson. Sam was getting more comfortable with Abigail and Jennifer was starting to move them into some fancy trotting.

After 30 minutes of riding, they took a short break. “Can I ask a question?” Sam said.

“Sure,” Jennifer responded.

“It doesn’t seem to matter if it is Saturday or Sunday, you always seem to be here for lessons. Do you always work on weekends?”

“Yes and no. Technically I have weekends off. But I work a lot of weekends to build up comp time.”

“What’s comp time?”

“For every two weekend days that I work, I earn 2 vacation days to use when I want. So if Miss Maggie asks me to work, I try and be here.”

“I see,” Sam said. “Do you live nearby?”

“I live here, above the tack room.”

Sam made a face. “You live above the barn?”

Jennifer saw the look on Sam’s face. She grinned and said, “It’s not all that bad. I have a 3 bedroom loft with a kitchen, family room, two baths a big screen theater and a stereo system that scares the horses. And I pay nothing for it.”

“Oh.”

“It’s really pretty nice. You have to remember something Sam, this family has money and they do everything first class. It’s a great deal for me. I get paid well, I have a free place to stay, and Miss Maggie allows me to keep my horse here.”

“You have a horse here? Which one is yours?”

“The palomino, Jesse. I ride him in shows.”

“Really? You go to shows?”

“Sure, it’s my favorite hobby. I have a pick-up and trailer and I use my comp days to travel the eastern states and go to shows. I do some competitive riding and dressage, and once in a while I go to a county fair and enter barrel races. It’s a great life for a horse person.”

“Sounds neat,” Sam admitted. “So, you mention Maggie, not Miss Mona …”

“Yeah, it is a bit confusing. Miss Mona runs the show, no doubts there. But she is more interested in her business and outside activities. Miss Maggie is more domestic and she runs things around here.”

“I see. So when you want a day off or if you have to work, Maggie tells you.”

“Pretty much. She has the grounds wired for wi-fi and she has a web site set up with everyone’s schedule. We can just get on the schedule and let her know what we want to do, and she approves it.”

“Neat. She sounds pretty technically competent.”

“I think she is. And she is much nicer to work with than Miss Mona. In fact, Miss Maggie isn’t very confrontational. When there is an employee problem she doesn’t like to handle it. She turns the dirty work over to Miss Mona. When Miss Mona shows up, you know your ass is in trouble.” They paused for a moment and then Jennifer said, “So, you have caused a big stir this week.”

“Me?”

“Yep, you. It’s all anyone has been talking about. Sam this, Sam that. Did you see what Sam was wearing today? Last night? You are the talk of the estate.”

“Everyone knows that I am dressing as a girl?”

“It’s pretty hard to miss, Samantha,” and she pointed to Sam’s breasts. She even used Sam’s feminine name to make her point.

“Everyone must think I’m a total joke,” Sam said dejectedly.

“Actually, just the opposite. We’re all very impressed. We know why you’re doing it. Very few guys would ever even think of doing what you’re doing. And from what I’ve been told, you’re really pretty when you’re all dressed up.”

Sam was beginning to blush just a bit. “Thanks, Jennifer.”

“And if Lisa ever dumps you, I’ll take you. I would love to see you all dolled up for a party,” she giggled. Now Sam really blushed. Jennifer knew she had him on the ropes and she added, “I love the idea of boys in dresses. I think it is a concept long over due. Don’t you agree?”

“Well, it’s not something that I really thought about before I came here,” he admitted.

“And there is one other thing. We all really like Miss Maggie. She is like a mom to everyone that works here. And we know that she is really happy about you dressing up. In fact, she’s the one that tells us how pretty you are. If Miss Maggie is happy, we’re all happy too.”

“So Maggie really likes me,” Sam thought to himself. I kind of like her too.

Jennifer decided to change the topic. “So Sam, do you have family?”

“No, just foster parents.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But sometimes it makes things easier.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, take my mum for instance. Every month I send her a little money back home in Ireland. She likes my money but wants absolutely nothing to do with me.”

“Why not?”

“That’s for another time. Let’s just say that you won’t have the same problem. It’s pretty tough — and sad.”

“That’s too bad,” Sam said sincerely.

“Yeah. Here comes Lisa, time for you two to go riding. Enjoy your ride pretty Samantha.” Sam remounted Abigail and was about to trot off when Jennifer said, “I meant what I said pretty Samantha. If Lisa dumps you, I’ll take you in a heart beat.” Sam blew her a kiss.

CHAPTER 17

It was one o’clock and Sam and Lisa were milling around on the front porch waiting for Grace and Eunice to arrive. Sam was still wearing his scarf, and other than his plum, lip-plumping lipstick he wore no makeup. He had his earring studs and Grace’s necklace for jewelry, and open-toed 4 inch heels with no stockings for his feet. He was going to get a pedicure and manicure.

Mona had told the kids to wear something nice, so Sam was wearing a conservative black dress. It was made of wool, had a V cross over neck, long sleeves made of lace and a cummerbund waistline. The cummerbund was tight and served to give Sam a very small looking waist. Even without makeup it gave Sam a dressy appearance.

Mona and Maggie joined the two youngsters on the front porch. Along with her purse, Maggie was carrying her big camera. “Eunice just called and they are turning onto our street.” It took only a moment for them to spot the limousine pulling up the drive. The limo came to a stop in front of them, and they all waited for George the chauffeur to open the rear door for the two ladies inside. There were greetings all around, then Maggie herded the girls onto the front steps and stood out front with her camera. She set all the functions on the camera and then handed it off to George while she joined the group. Lisa and Sam were in the front of the group where they could be seen in their entirety. George took several pictures, and then they all climbed back in the limo and sped off towards Washington D.C.

“You look very nice today, Samantha,” Grace said. “I can’t wait to see you in this hairstyle that you picked out. And I see you are wearing the necklace that I gave you. It looks very nice on you.”

“Thank you,” Sam responded.

“Lisa, I’ve got some work for you next weekend,” Eunice said.

“Really? The wedding dresses have arrived?”

“The last one came in yesterday I am told. So we will need to have them fitted and altered next Saturday. Can you make it back?”

“Of course, I love to model for you.” Lisa looked at Sam and a wild idea popped into her head. “Samantha, one of Miss Eunice’s retail chains is going to introduce a line of cheaper wedding dresses, because of the economy and everything you know. They’re coming in from Madagascar of all places! I’m going to model them for a photo shoot, so next weekend we have to get them altered to fit me. Then a couple weekends after that will be the shoot.”

Lisa turned to Eunice and full of excitement she asked, “Can Samantha be a model too? She can model half and I’ll model half. Can we do that?”

Sam almost had a heart attack. Today was the end of his dressing as a girl. What in the hell was Lisa doing trying to extend his ordeal? What was she doing to him?

“It’s ok with me,” Eunice said. “Samantha is about the same size as you, and she is pretty so that’s no problem. It’s up to you Samantha. Do you want to earn some extra money?”

Sam was scrambling for an excuse. “What about my hair? I’m going to have my extensions removed tomorrow, right?”

“That was the plan,” Lisa said. “But you can leave them in. They can stay in for several months you know.”

“But I can’t go back to school with them. It just wouldn’t look right. I’m going to have enough problems with my shaved legs and chest.” Sam wasn’t exactly whining, and he wasn’t exactly begging, but he was making it clear that he didn’t want to continue dressing up as a girl.

“Well it’s your decision, Samantha.”

“I think it would be better if I didn’t do it,” he said.

“Ok,” Lisa said with as much vocal dejection as she could muster. “Do you want to come back with me though? We can go riding after I get done with the alterations,” she offered as incentive.

Mona spoke up, “I won’t be here next weekend.” She was making obvious her disapproval of Sam being there with Lisa when she wasn’t around.

Maggie spoke up, “That’s ok, I’ll be home.”

They had approval, even if Mona didn’t approve. Lisa turned to Sam, “Can you come back with me?”

Sam was excited. Lisa wasn’t going to dump him! She still liked him even though he had spent a week as a measly girl. “Sure. I can handle my homework on the ride. I’d like to do that.”

“Great, it’s a date,” Lisa said.

Sam had won a skirmish. The wedding dress modeling had been offered as a test only. They wanted to see if they could convert him quickly. But Sam was going to put up a fight. That actually made it more fun for the girls. In the end Sam was going to lose. They were going to turn Sam into Samantha. It was just a matter of time. In fact, that very night he was going to get tested like he had never experienced.

“How many people do you have coming this evening?” Grace asked Mona.

Before Mona could answer Maggie said, “Eighteen.”

“Eighteen? Is that right?” Mona asked Maggie.

“It had better be. That’s how many I am cooking for.”

“So who is coming?” Eunice asked.

Mona began rattling off the list. “The Hendersons of course, Senator May, Congressmen Wickers and Planter, and their dates of course. Let’s see, that makes 8. Us 6 make 14. Gloria sans Peter, Jeff Winter, and the chief of staff for Senator Baum and Congresswoman Jenkins. That 18?”

Sam was impressed, “You are having senators and congressmen to your party?”

“Yes dear Samantha,” Mona said in a condescending tone. “We have high ranking politicians over for dinner all the time.”

“Wow, do you have the President over too?”

The limo went perfectly quiet and Sam could hear the rush of the wind blowing by the limo, and the growl of the tires rolling over the rough road surface. All eyes turned towards Mona. Sam knew immediately that he had committed a faux pas; he just wasn’t sure how bad it was going to be. He shrunk against his seat, waiting for Miss Mona to speak.

Mona brought herself up to a stiff posture and looked Sam in the eyes to make sure that he fully understood what she about to say. “No black president will ever set foot on Hawthorne soil as long as I am alive.” Nothing more needed to be said.

Grace gave everybody a few seconds to recover, then said, “Enough of politics, how are you having your hair put up Lisa?”

The group arrived at their destination and George opened the limo door, and escorted the six girls into the salon. Actually, it was their salon, but that’s a story for another time. Sam walked in and was immediately hit with the smells of a beauty parlor. These were the same aromas that had startled him a week earlier. Now they smelled more familiar. Welcoming even. Sam was becoming acclimated to his feminine destiny.

In front of them, lined up at the front counter were 6 of the most talented beauticians to be found in Washington. Sam recognized Bridgette, Susan and Jillian. The other girls were new to him. Greetings were exchanged all around and then Maggie took control. “Samantha, since your hair is already set, you don’t need a wash and set. You’re with Jillian, you can get your makeover first. Greta,” and she pointed at a small, pretty girl, “you’re the manicurist, am I right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Can you take Samantha when she is ready?”

“Absolutely, ma’am,” and Greta jumped to work.

“Bridgette, can you start with Miss Lisa? Susan can you do Miss Eunice?” Maggie began organizing everything. Sam was barely seated before Maggie was taking his picture. “For posterity,” Maggie said. “Or is that posterior?” she joked. Sam giggled. No wonder everyone liked Maggie.

Jillian seated Sam, threw a cape over him and then pulled over a cart. “First things first, Miss Samantha, I am going to give you a razor shave.” Sam said nothing and settled into his chair. Jillian took out a real straight edge and slapped it back on forth on a leather strop attached to the chair. She quickly had the razor as sharp as necessary and set it on the counter behind her. Sam heard a slurping sound behind him as Jillian filled her palm with warm lather. She began to smear it on Sam’s face and shivers went up and down his spine. He was totally enchanted with the feel of warm lather on his skin. It was an exotic feeling that he had never experienced before. Jillian took her razor, turned Sam’s face and began to scrape his few whiskers away. Sam had never been shaved before, he had never had a straight razor used on his skin and yet he knew that he had never had a closer shave in his life. His skin would be as smooth as the proverbial baby’s behind.

Jillian finished his shave and then she wrapped a hot, moist towel over his face. “Relax,” she said. “Greta is going to tell you what to do. Just follow her instructions.”

“Samantha,” a very soft and pretty voice said, “I am going to give you a manicure and a pedicure. Please relax, keep you eyes closed and let me have control.” Sam could hear Greta moving some items around. Then he felt her hands on his feet as she pulled off his heels. Next she lifted his feet and placed them in a tub of warm, vibrating water. Again, he felt a shiver run through his body as he responded to the warm water on his feet.

Sam took Greta’s advice and slid even lower in his chair. He thought back to a week ago when he had received a facial. At that time he had thought that experience was feminine and a bit erotic. But this was light years beyond that day. The sensations, smells and aromas, emotions and feelings were almost overwhelming for a simple boy. He literally thought about the fact that he was a boy and these sensations shouldn’t be allowed for him to enjoy. They were forbidden and beyond the reach of a male, but here he was in their inner sanctum enjoying the bliss reserved for only true females. As much as he should be rebelling and rejecting this frivolous behavior, Sam just couldn’t accept that attitude. Sam was enjoying his Saturday salon appointment with the girls.

Sam rested for an eternity while Greta pampered his cuticles and nails. Jillian returned several times and replaced his cooling facial towel with a warmer, more fragrant version.
As Greta was finishing her task, Jillian removed the towel for the last time. She inspected Sam’s face and pinched out a couple of blackheads. “Now we shall make you beautiful,” and Jillian began. She truly was an artisan. Brushes flew, powder puffs puffed, and sponges sponged. Jillian applied an opaque foundation, then powdered him, added color and blush and contour and blended them together, then brushed more translucent powder as she turned Sam’s skin in to a canvass upon which she was going to create a masterpiece. “Your brows are perfect and your lashes are even better. Obviously these are our lashes, but when I get done only a deity will know for sure,” she hummed as mascara, curlers, liners and brushes swirled around Sam’s eyelashes and they were transformed into creations of Hollywood beauty. Eyelid powders and creams and concoctions of unknown tinctures and pigments were lovingly caressed and willed into patterns of subtle art around Sam’s eyes.

And then the artisan turned her talents upon a pair of ordinary lips. Plumped somewhat by artificial irritants but with only limited effect, Miss Jillian filled them with subtle colors, hues and shades that plumped the center of those lips and sharply defined their outer cupid bow to deliver what could only be defined as angel lips.

Jillian finished her canvas and spun the chair to face a lighted mirror. Sam was in awe of what he saw. He began to seriously think of himself in the female gender “she” when the reflection reached the eye of the beholder. Here was beauty. It could not be denied. His hair was still wrapped under pins and scarves, but Sam was truly starting to slip into a new mindset. Here was beauty. He was beginning to morph into she. It was inevitable and it was wondrous. Sam was becoming Samantha, and she was beautiful.

Sam was brought back to earth as a flash went off behind him and reflected against the mirror. Maggie had an adorable picture of Sam staring at his beautiful face in the salon mirror. Sam couldn’t help but smile. He now knew for a fact that tonight he would be beautiful. He would pass. And he might even get those passes that Maggie had predicted.

Sam relaxed in his chair and watched the other girls being attended to. Curlers were in abundance and hair was either drying under beehive type contraptions or still being rolled onto little cylinders of wire mesh and soft plastic quills. Lips were being lined, nails polished if not actually painted, and blush was being brushed on cheekbones. Sam inhaled deeply and let the saturated aromas fill his senses. Against all his inner barriers protecting his masculinity, Sam enjoyed his predicament, if not his blessing. Sam was at peace with the moment. Sam was satisfied. Samantha was happy.

Bridgette eventually finished with Sam’s girl friend and turned her attention towards Sam. She removed his scarf and then all of the crisscrossed pins holding his soft curls. They cascaded over one another and fell across his face as they spiraled down. Sam felt their touch and their feminine grace as they tickled his face and neck. He was tempted to stop Bridgette, and prevent her from touching a single perfect spiral. The ringlets looked exquisite as they framed his beautifully painted face. Sam wanted to leave them there forever, but Bridgette took control of those rings. She held them, caressed them one by one in her hand as she brushed them out. They lost their spirals, but they blossomed into cascading curves and waves of soft, voluminous brunette beauty. They became the frame to the picture, the softest frame imaginable. They moved with the turn of his head, the breath of a soft wind and the whimsy of a beautiful girl. He was that beautiful girl. Sam could not deny Samantha. Tonight, Samantha was dominant. She would enjoy the adoration and compliments of her fellow players. Samantha was born, but not quite complete.

“You look absolutely stunning, Samantha,” Grace said. Maggie flashed several more pictures into her digital memory. “There is only one thing left,” Grace announced as she produced a small velvet box. She presented the box to Samantha. “You wanted expensive earrings? Here you are my darling.”

With trembling hands Samantha opened the box. Everyone was straining to see what Grace was presenting to Lisa’s future husband. Two pendant earrings as simple as icicles and yet as bright as miniature novas sparkled in their velvet cushion. Double pear shaped diamonds paired at their points and set with platinum represented almost 40 carats of perfection.

“Wow,” Samantha said. “Miss Grace, would you please help me put them on?”

“That would be my honor, Miss Samantha.” Grace removed Samantha’s studs and hung one of the pendants from each lobe.

“They feel heavy,” Sam giggled as he tentatively touched each one. He looked at Miss Grace and asked, “How do they look?”

“Unbelievable. My god, they look unbelievable.”

Samantha looked over at Lisa and mouthed, “How much?”

She silently mouthed back, “Millions.” Samantha’s smile got even bigger. Maggie caught Samantha unaware and blinded her with another photo flash.

The women arrived back at the Hawthorne estate and marched inside the house and down the hall to the salon. One of Maggie’s maids served tea and cookies, while George brought in Grace’s and Eunice’s cocktail dresses. Everyone was in a hurry to begin dressing, so little was said as they quickly sipped their tea and munched their cookies.

Lisa took Samantha up to Harriet’s room where they both stripped down to their under garments. They took turns helping each slide a black slip over their head without musing their hair. Samantha slid expensive back-seamed stockings up her smooth legs and adjusted the sticky top of the thigh-high so they were comfortable. Lisa pulled on lacey black stockings with tons of froufrou and glitter and clipped them to her garters. “Are you ready for your cocktail dress my dear?” Lisa asked.

“Bring it on.”

Lisa helped Samantha pull on a gorgeous Les Nuits d'Elodie black silk charmeuse, early 80s long sleeve cocktail dress. The exquisite little black dress had a deep V neckline, a twisted charmeuse belt and a gathered hem. The hem looked like someone had reached halfway down the skirt, plucked it up and tied it to the belt. The effect was a lifting of the hem to expose the front of the legs to above the knee.

Lisa chose to wear a fabulous black lace gown over taffeta with a drop scoop neckline front and back. The dress had a fitted waist with drop hip taffeta sash and a large black bow that snapped onto the hip. The sleeves were full length with snaps on the wrists. It was an old-fashioned yet elegant dress.

“One last thing,” Lisa said. “Our signature perfume. Put a little drop on each wrist,” and she showed Samantha what she was doing. “And a drop behind each ear. And voila, we’re ready to part like it was 1999.”

The two sorority sisters and roommates were dressed and ready for the dinner party. For both girls it was going to be an unforgettable event. For both it would be a watershed moment in her life, but only one girl would fully understand the ramifications of the moment. The second girl was going to blossom from a chrysalis into a butterfly. She just didn’t know it yet.

CHAPTER 18

Lisa and Sam made their grand entrance down the stairs and into the main hall, where it just so happened that the other women were waiting. “Wow!” The Hawthorne women were enthralled with the success of their latest project. Samantha had turned out beautiful. Her lessons were evident in the graceful way she walked down the steps, and how she stood and held herself. No doubt about it, Lisa had picked a winner.

Mona handed Sam a bottle and an inhaler. “These are the drugs the doctor gave me. Go gargle now and use the inhaler about every two hours.”

Sam went to the first floor powder room and gargled. The medicine had a very strong flavor that seemed to quickly die away as it numbed his throat. He vocalized a few of his speaking lessons and could feel and hear the effect. He was much more convincing, in a hoarse sort of way.

Sam returned to the hall and Lisa laughed at his new voice. “It’s not that funny, is it?” Sam asked full of concern.

Grace reassured him, “Samantha will sound and look totally convincing.” Maggie took her usual pictures and then carried off her equipment while the rest of the women moved to the grand salon.

It was time for Sam to immerse himself in his evening’s role. For one night Sam was now Samantha.

Guests began arriving at 6:30. The Hawthornes waited in the large salon adjacent to the large dining room. Chas received the guests at the front door and escorted them to the salon. Whenever a guest arrived at the salon entrance, the women would make an impromptu greeting line. The first guests were the Hendersons. Mona greeted them first, then passed them along to Maggie, then Grace, then Eunice, and then Lisa and Samantha.

They had just a few short words for each person, including Lisa, then Grace led them away. Gloria Hawthorne arrived next and she turned out to be one of Lisa’s cousins. About 5 years older than Lisa, they had grown up together, going to horse shows and family events. Gloria gave hugs and kisses all along the receiving line, and Samantha had her first chance to use her faux-kiss training.

Lisa led Samantha and Gloria off to another part of the room to talk. They began chatting about old times, and Gloria told Samantha an embarrassing story about Lisa at a horse show. A few minutes later Lydia Dahl and Tom Egan arrived. Lisa and Samantha gave Gloria their regrets and returned to the receiving line. Samantha was standing next to Maggie.

Lydia Dahl introduced herself as the chief of staff for Congresswoman Jenkins, and Tom Egan introduced himself as the chief of staff for Congressman Baum. They delivered the condolences of their respective Representatives; that they themselves were unable to attend. Since Lydia and Tom knew only Grace, she walked them off to the side. She chatted with them while they were served champagne or other alcoholic choices were ordered.

Then Senator Max May strutted into the room with his escort. Samantha’s heart jumped into her throat as she saw Florence on the arm of Senator May. The Florence from the salon. “Oh no,” she whispered to Maggie. “That’s Florence from the salon. She knows who I am. What if she tells someone?”

Maggie tried to calm her down. “Don’t worry, Florence would never tell a soul.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Trust me, I am very sure.”

Florence and the Senator moved along the line. Maggie greeted the Senator then passed him onto Samantha. The Senator seemed to be smitten with Samantha’s lovely visage and he spent several moments complimenting her on her beauty. Samantha graciously accepted the compliments. While the Senator was preoccupied with Samantha, Florence kissed Maggie on the lips. A very friendly kiss at that.

The senator moved along to Lisa and once again he fawned all over the beautiful young girl. Meanwhile, Maggie introduced Samantha to Florence. “Samantha, you look beautiful. I knew you would. And I love your hair, it came out awesome. So, welcome to the club,” Florence said and then hurried off to catch up with the Senator. Samantha was caught off guard by the reference to the club. She would have to ask someone later.

Samantha accompanied Lisa back to Gloria, where they chatted on and off while other guests arrived and were duly greeted. It all went along as planned and Samantha collected some nice compliments. The three of them talked about the other guests for a few minutes. Samantha pointed out, “These politicians all have very young wives. They’re all really pretty.”

Lisa and Gloria started laughing and Gloria almost spilled her drink. “Those aren’t their wives, Samantha. Their wives rarely come to social events. They’re left back home taking care of the kids.”

“Really? Then these girls are …”

“Escorts. Highly paid and extremely beautiful escorts.”

Only one thing came to mind when Samantha heard that. “Do they … I mean are they paid to … sleep with them?”

Both girls smirked and Gloria put her arm around Samantha. “That is never mentioned in polite company, dear. But since you’re new here we can forgive you. And the answer is maybe, maybe not. The opportunity is there, but who knows. Some of our renowned congressmen prefer to swing the other way, if you get my meaning.”

“Ohhhh.”

Gloria changed the subject. “Lisa, have you been skiing this winter?”

“No, unfortunately everything has conspired against me. I would love to get out west just once before spring.”

Gloria’s eyes lit up, an idea had just popped into her head. “Samantha, do you ski?”

“Yeah, I love to ski.”

“Well listen I’ve got a deal for the both of you. I have reservations for heli-skiing next week. My friend Adam backed out at the last minute. Pissed me off royally, but that story is another two or three cocktails off. Why don’t you two fly out and join me? We’ve reserved two double beds and you two could share one. What do you think?”

“We’ve got school,” Lisa said.

“Just for the weekend then. Fly out Friday and return late Sunday. Come on, I’m going to be bored without someone else along,” Gloria pleaded.

“What is heli-skiing?” Samantha asked.

“Just about the best skiing in the world!” Gloria answered. “It’s all powder skiing in the peaks of the Canadian Bugaboos. A helicopter takes you to the top of the mountain and drops you off, you ski to the bottom and the helicopter picks you up and takes you to a fresh spot with virgin powder. You ski your ass off from morning to dark.”

Lisa took over the narration, “Then you fly back to the lodge for a sauna or whirlpool, you have a few cocktails and a gourmet meal, then sit in front of the fireplace before dropping dead in bed. There is so much skiing that you will be dead by the end of the day, guaranteed.”

“Cool,” Samantha cooed.

“Do you want to go?” Gloria asked Samantha.

“It sounds really neat, but like Lisa says, we have school.”

“Screw it for a couple of days. At most you miss one, maybe two days. It won’t kill you. Come on Samantha, if you say yes then Lisa has to go. She can’t let her roommate go without her,” Gloria urged.

“I just don’t think it is possible,” Samantha said.

Lisa jumped in, “Samantha, anything is possible. You should have learned that by now. Gloria, can we get back to you?”

“That a girl Lisa. You have until Friday to make up your mind, because I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“Let me work on Samantha, I’ll convince her,” Lisa told Gloria, and then Lisa led Samantha away.

“We can do it, Samantha,” Lisa whispered.

“How? She’s expecting Samantha not Sam.”

“So? Would you mind dressing as a girl, skiing the best powder in the world and then sleeping in the same bed with me?”

Samantha just grinned. “But school. And flying there and back would take forever.”

“Not in a private jet that picks us up at the airport by school and drops us off there again.”

“A private jet?” Samantha asked in awe. Lisa didn’t need to answer. Her grin and the hand sign for money convinced Samantha. “But I would have to leave my hair long. I can’t do that back at school.”

“Let me talk with Maggie, she’s good at planning. If she comes up with a suitable plan, would you consider it?”

“Of course.”

The two of them met up with Tom Egan, a new comer to these social events. Lisa re-introduced the two of them and chatted for a few minutes and then she spotted Maggie. “Would you two excuse me for just a minute? I see Maggie is free and I have to talk to her.” She gave Samantha a wink and hurried off.

Tom took over the conversation, “You two go to school together, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Same sorority? Roommates?”

“Yeah.”

“Lisa is probably the luckiest person on the face of the Earth.”

“What do you mean?”

“She gets to be your roommate. Samantha, you totally outshine everyone else in this room. I don’t think I have ever met anyone as beautiful as you.”

Samantha blushed and she became aware of how unprepared she was for a pass from a gentlemen. She could see it coming but she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Will you be staying in the Washington area long?”

“No, we go back to school tomorrow.”

“He quickly pulled out a business card and offered it to her. “Can I call or write you? I would love to get to know you better. If you come to Washington I can get tickets to anything,” he pleaded.

Samantha just looked at his card and didn’t know what to do. “I don’t have a card,” she said.

“Please take mine. If you like you can contact me. And if you chose not to contact me, then that is your prerogative. But I hope with all my heart that you will accept my offer to talk some more.”

Lisa walked up and took the card from Tom’s hand. “Tom,” she said in a perky voice, “did I tell you that Samantha is 2 years younger than me? She’s 18.”

Tom’s attitude backed down just a bit. “No, you didn’t mention that Lisa. I was just trying to make friends. You know, offer my services to show her around the area.”

“I know,” Lisa said with an understanding voice. “This is Samantha’s first time in our social circle, and I’m not sure she understands all the rules. Let me hold this, and when we get back to school I’ll ask her if she wants it. I promise.”

“Fair enough,” Tom said. “It was a pleasure meeting you Samantha. I hope to hear from you.”

Tom left and Lisa just stared at Samantha. Then she started grinning. “Oh my gawd, is that what I think it was?” Samantha asked.

“Yep. Your very first proposition. Well almost, we caught it a little early in the program. If I remember correctly, someone predicted this would happen. Any idea who that might have been?”

“Wow, that was weird. What would have happened if I had taken his card?”

“You would have had to go out and have sex with him,” Lisa kept her face straight for only a second and then began laughing. “Listen, I talked with Maggie and she is working on our predicament. Have faith, I think we’re going skiing. Come on, we must entertain our guests. Who knows, maybe you’ll get another hit.” Samantha scowled and Lisa smiled.

Their next encounter was with a family friend, Jeff Winters. “So what have you been up to Lisa?”

“Same old stuff. Riding whenever I get the chance. How about you?”

“I just moved up to New York. I’ve taken a new position with an importer.” He pulled out two cards and handed one to each girl.

“President, very nice.”

“So when was the last time you were in New York?”

“It’s been ages. I just can’t seem to get the time.”

“You mean you don’t want to leave your horse. Do you sleep in the stable too?” The three of them chuckled. “Listen Lisa, in all seriousness, if you want to come up to New York, give me a call first. I have a great loft and I’m gone more often than I am there. Bring Samantha with you and you can go out shopping, see some shows and do the town. I’m in uptown Manhattan so you’re close to everything.”

“Thank you Jeff. What do you think Samantha, would you be interested in going to New York some weekend?”

“School Lisa. Would we fly there?”

“Of course, we could take the jet up. Have you ever seen the Statue of Liberty? Times Square or Central Park? They have horses there,” she joked.

“That would be fun. I would like to do that sometime.”

Lisa turned to Jeff, “I do believe we will take you up on your offer. I’m just not sure when.”

“Call, I’ll put you two up. I would love to take two pretty ladies to my club. They think their New York girls are sophisticated, huh! I’ll show them some beautiful Southern Belles.”

“Jeff you are so flirty. Please continue,” Lisa said. They laughed, talked a bit more and then split up to engage additional guests.

“You’re doing pretty good so far Miss Samantha Springer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, so far you’ve been invited to go heli-skiing, you’ve been invited to New York City and you got hit on. That’s 3 for 3 in my book.”

Samantha’s success was going to continue. The plan had already been hatched, cooked, planned and in some cases even rehearsed. Samantha was going to have the time of her life. She was going to totally enjoy being a girl on this special Saturday evening. If her shoes had been made of glass, her name would have been Cinderella.

In the meantime, Lisa excused herself and slipped out of the room and down the hall to her mother’s study. Lisa closed the door behind her and locked it. Then she turned on the light and slipped behind Mona’s desk. She turned on the TV monitor and the computer. The computer booted up and there was no request for a password. “It’s a good thing mom is computer illiterate,” she said to the empty room.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Lisa opened the door apprehensively and found Chas standing in the hall. “Is everything alright Miss Lisa?”

“Yes, Chas. Thank you for checking.” He nodded and walked off.

Lisa returned to the computer, found the files for the CCD cameras in her room and loaded up the previous evening’s files. Lisa watched the screen and discovered, sure enough, her mother had not turned off the cameras. “I knew it,” Lisa said. The screen was dark but the audio plainly told what was happening. Lisa looked in Mona’s desk drawers and found a DVD disc. She slipped it in the computer and copied last night’s show. Then she deleted the file on the computer.

Next she pulled up the morning tapes. Once again Mona had recorded the extra-curricular activities between Sam and Lisa. Only these weren’t in the dark. Lisa leaned forward and watched the activities. She watched in rapt attention as she forced Sam to go down on her and perform cunnilingus. Fascinated, and excited by the tape, she watched half the encounter. It took much longer than she had remembered and she realized that she was ignoring her guests. She would have to finish it later.

Lisa copied that file and then deleted it from her mother’s computer. She popped out the DVD and shut down everything. She put the DVD in a thin paper cover, then went over to the bookcases, found an old book and slid the DVD between the pages. She could come back and pick it up later. Finally she stepped behind the desk and looked at the connections coming into the camera. She found a six foot cord that she could easily disconnect and remove from the maze of other cords. She put the cord under a cushion on the sofa. “That should shut down tonight’s recording,” she said to no one.

Meanwhile, Samantha was having another interesting conversation. As soon as Lisa walked away, Lydia Dahl came over to Samantha. “Hi, are you Lisa?”

“No. My name is Samantha.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry,” Lydia apologized. “I’m so nervous I can’t even remember names. This is old hat for you, but for me this is my first time here and I’m petrified.”

“That’s ok, Lydia. This is my first time also.”

“Really? You would never know it looking at you. You look so calm and collected.”

“Well, I did practice my … uhm … social skills this week.”

“I should have too. Here, let me properly introduce myself,” and she handed her business card to Samantha. Samantha was immediately wary. She didn’t know if this was typical behavior or if she was about to be hit on again. She laughed that latter thought out of her head; Lydia was a girl!

“I’m really not even supposed to be here, but my boss, Congresswoman Jenkins couldn’t make it. I’m her chief of staff and I’m filling in for her.” Lydia looked around and then continued, “This social stuff is over my head. That’s why I’m not a congresswoman. And this event is totally above me.”

“Why do say that?” Samantha wanted to know.

“Because of the Hawthorne family, and especially Mona Hawthorne. She is THE power in this town. Nothing on the right gets done without her express permission. Her money runs just about everything.”

“Really?”

“Well, you know all of that. But … uhm … I just feel out of place. That’s all.” She paused for a moment and collected her thoughts. “So now that I know you’re not Lisa, then you have to be Lisa’s room mate from college. Am I right this time?”

Lydia looked so pathetic that Samantha had to grin. “Yes, you’re correct.”

“Where do you go to school?” Lydia asked. For the next several minutes they talked about school, majors, career ambitions and other inane subjects. At that point the introductions were done, the trivial chit-chat was finished and both parties were relaxed as much as they would be. It was time for Lydia to carry out her assignment.

“I love your dress. It is beautiful,” she began.

“Thank you,” Samantha answered.

“And Lisa’s dress is just magnificent; such a traditional and elegant style. The two of you make a beautiful couple.”

Without even understanding what Lydia had just implied, Samantha again said, “Thank you.”

Lydia was set. It was time to move forward. “I adore your hair. Who did it?”

“Olivia set it, but Bridgette brushed it out.”

Lydia smile, “I meant what salon did you use?”

“Oh. I’m not sure. I never caught the name of the salon, but it’s on the first floor of the Hawthorne Building.”

“I know the one you mean. I’ll have to start going there. They did an amazing job on you. You almost look a little like Tyra Banks.” Samantha smiled again. “Your earrings are to kill for. Are those yours?”

“Oh no, they’re much too expensive for me. Miss Grace loaned them to me.”

“Amazing, may I look a little closer?

“Sure.”

Lydia stepped closer and reached for the earring. She lifted it just a bit, then took her hand and gently caressed Samantha’s neck. With Samantha’s hair covering her hand no one could see what Lydia had just done, but her touch sent shivers down Samantha’s spine and raised goose pimples on her skin. She left her hand on Samantha’s neck and looked into Samantha’s eyes.

Across the room Mona was watching Samantha. When Samantha’s eyes popped open and she had that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, Mona knew what had just happened.
Mona couldn’t help but smile. Samantha’s imitation of a girl had just been confirmed by the genuine article. She could only guess as to the stirrings in Samantha’s loins.

Lydia left her hand on Samantha’s neck for a moment and then she stroked Samantha’s hair. Continuing to look into Samantha’s eyes Lydia whispered, “You are an amazingly beautiful girl. Would you consider getting together sometime? I would even come to school to meet you.”

Samantha was stunned. Too stunned to speak, she was frozen in place. She couldn’t find the words to answer Lydia.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Lydia asked tentatively.

Samantha finally blinked. Lydia was looking into her eyes with a beguiling and hopeful smile. Her hand had fallen and was touching Samantha’s hand, caressing the back of her hand. “Ahh … I’m not sure.” Samantha began. The words just weren’t coming.

“I’ll pay for everything. Dinner, dancing, movie, whatever you want.”

Just then Lisa walked back into the room. Samantha shook the cobwebs from her head and took a step back from Lydia. “Wow. That’s a wonderful offer Lydia, but I don’t think I can do that.”

“Is it Lisa? Are you committed to her?”

Whew, Lydia had just given her an out. “Yes. I am.” Samantha said.

“That’s ok,” Lydia said. “Maybe the three of us could go out together.”

Samantha’s legs went limp and almost failed her. “Holy shit,” she thought, “I’ve been invited to an all girl ménage a trois.” She couldn’t believe what she had just heard.
Lisa was almost upon them and Samantha had to say something fast, “I don’t think Lisa is that kind of girl.”

“You never know,” Lydia said.

“Know what?” Lisa asked as she entered the conversation.

“Know what people are like in private,” Lydia said. “You must be Lisa,” Lydia said and offered her hand. The two of them shook hands. “Thank your mother for the invitation. It is an honor to be invited to a Hawthorne dinner party. I’m really looking forward to seeing how it plays out.” She turned her attention to Samantha and began backing away, “It was a pleasure talking with you Samantha. I really enjoyed it.”

Lydia turned and stepped away. Lisa looked at Samantha and then back at Lydia. “What was that all about?”

One of the maids walked by with a tray and Samantha took a glass of champagne and sipped it. She looked at the glass and saw just the tiniest bit of lipstick on the rim. She showed it to Lisa and observed, “I must be getting pretty good, look no lipstick.”

“And? You look flushed.”

“I just got propositioned by a girl,” and she started giggling. “I can’t believe it. Wow.” She looked into Lisa’s eyes, “How would you like to do a three-way with another girl?”

Lisa’s eyebrows shot up, “You’re kidding right?” Samantha slowly shook her head no. “Is there anyone here that hasn’t hit on you?” she laughed. “I want to know, what did she say to you?” Samantha thought Lisa seemed extremely interested. She recounted the entire story to Lisa, and Lisa did indeed show great interest in the story. She paid very close attention to the entire story. “God! I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” Lisa reached down and took Samantha’s hand as if she intended to literally hold on to her.

Chas entered the room with a small hand bell which he rang. “Dinner is served.”

Lisa turned to Samantha, “Go spray your throat and then come back here. We’ll enter together.”

Samantha was seated in the best protection she could have had; Maggie to the left and Lisa to the right. It was an elegant and sumptuous meal, and Samantha had been well prepared. Appetizers first, then soup then salad, entrée and desert followed by digestifs. The only item that Samantha had not seen before were the tiny glasses of sherbet that were served between some of the courses to cleanse the palette.

The shrimp had been flown in from Louisiana, the prime rib came from grain-fed Iowa cattle, and the dessert was chocolate covered with chocolate and served on a bed of shaved chocolate. The dessert was one of Maggie’s secret recipes. The digestifs consisted of personal choices, including cognacs, brandy, Williams Pear Schnapps, and Amarula to name a few. Lisa and Samantha tried the schnapps.

Mona led the meal time conversation and controlled the pace. The meal must have gone well because Mona and the Hendersons were having a lively conversation. Grace was chatting with the senator, who began getting a bit loud. Lydia was seated between Tom Egan and Florence. She chatted mostly with Florence, and when Lydia wasn’t ignoring Tom, she couldn’t take her eyes off Samantha. Gloria and Lisa kept talking skiing, and Maggie tried to keep a small discussion with Samantha, while chatting up congressman Wickers on her other side.

Samantha didn’t mind her protected seating and her minimal conversations. She enjoyed watching, listening and learning. Mona was definitely the power at the table, followed close behind by Grace. In fact Grace had that quiet temperament that hid her true authority. The senator and congressmen were arrogant and used to being treated with deference. But it was obvious that they didn’t rule at this table. The Hendersons looked like they might be close to Grace and Mona in family power, but tonight was Hawthorne night on Hawthorne grounds. Everyone knew and respected Eunice and to a lesser extent Maggie. Everyone else was a bystander, like Samantha.

The meal ended and people began leaving the party. The two surrogates were first to leave, but both made it a point to stop by Samantha and say goodnight. The others returned to the salon and found seats in small groups to talk; business was being finalized. The senator huddled up with the Hendersons, Grace and Mona, while Eunice and Maggie were busy with the two congressmen. Conversations were generally low in volume. Lisa and Samantha handled the escorts and other friends. Drinks were still being served and the evening was quietly tapering down.

The senator excused himself from the group and left for the bathroom. When he returned he found Samantha and managed to split her away from the others. They were talking together for a few minutes before the fur started flying. The one and only impromptu event of the evening turned out to be the most entertaining.

Everyone else was involved in their private conversations when a loud slap went ringing across the room. All heads turned to the senator holding his hand to his face and a red faced Samantha stomping away from him.

Mona was launched out of her chair before the others even knew what had happened. She practically ran to Samantha and took her by the arm. She dragged Samantha out the door and disappeared into the hall. “What happened?” she demanded from Samantha.

“He asked for it,” she said in a hushed voice. She knew she was in trouble when Mona didn’t release her arm. Lisa came walking out of the room and Mona pointed a finger at her. She stopped in her tracks and didn’t advance any closer.

“He said I had nice looking lips and they would look good on his zipper. I accused him of being drunk and he just kept going. He said why don’t you and that hot roommate of yours come up to Washington sometime and I’ll show you a good time. I’ve got the stamina of a young buck and I can service both of you. That’s when I slapped him.”

“Are you telling me the truth, Samantha? Are you exaggerating this?” Mona’s tone of voice made it exceptionally clear that she wouldn’t accept even an ounce of exaggeration.

“No ma’am. That’s almost exactly what he said, word for word.”

“Almost exactly?”

“I’m not exaggerating. I was getting embarrassed and scared. I’m not sure I remember exactly each and every word, but I’m telling the truth.”

“Did you flirt with him? Were you teasing him?”

“No! Honestly, I’m telling the truth.”

Mona looked her in the eye for several moments, then rubbed her on the shoulder, “I know you are Samantha. Thank you for being honest.” Mona spun around on her 3 inch heels and pounded back into the salon.

After Mona left, Lisa came to Samantha and gave her a hug. “The bastard. He’ll pay. I promise.”

It didn’t take long for the shit to hit the fan. Lisa and Samantha could hear Mona in the salon and she was tearing into the senator. They both peaked in the door and saw the senator against a wall, Mona in front of him and a finger in his face. “I know exactly what you were doing senator and it will not work. No one in this room, and I mean no one is going to play your game. Not one rumor is going to leak out about you getting slapped by a girl at a cocktail party. And you better pray that no names EVER come out. You screwed up big time here. That was my daughter and her friend you pulled that stunt with. MY DAUGHTER Mr. May.”

Grace saw the two girls peaking in the door. She left her chair and motioned them to come into the room. Grace walked behind Samantha, placed her hands on Samantha’s shoulders and faced her towards Mona and the senator. Grace leaned forward and whispered in Samantha’s ear, “You did good girl.” Samantha didn’t mind being called a girl. Instead she took it as the compliment it was meant to be.

Mona continued her tirade against the senator, “You have never seen wrath like what I’ll bring down on you if you try to leak this. You and you alone will be held accountable if anyone ever talks about this. MY DAUGHTER!”

Samantha leaned over to Lisa and whispered, “Have I been adopted?”

With just the hint of a smirk on her face Lisa answered, “You know we talked about this before.”

Mona was still going, “If you think you can come into my house and pull a stunt like this, if you think you can use us to cover for your rumor problems, you have no idea how much you are going to suffer. I’ll take care of those rumors for yours. I’ll give the press more than rumors of a cocktail story. I’ll make it so obvious that you won’t have to deny anything. ANYTHING! Do you understand my drift Mr. May? Can I make it any plainer for you?”

The senator had received an earful and he knew he had screwed the pooch royally. He began to apologize, “Miss Mona I am truly sorry …” But Mona cut him off with only a look. With a nasty growl and snarl on her face she cocked her head ever so slightly and pointed at Samantha.

The senator understood. He walked over to Samantha, head down and hands folded contritely in front of him. “Miss Samantha I am terribly sorry for what I have done. There is no excuse for my stupid actions. I apologize profusely and ask that you forgive a stupid man.” The senator spent much of his speech looking at the floor, a little bit looking at Samantha and a few terrified seconds looking at Grace.

Samantha was succinct, “No.” Grace gently squeezed her shoulders to show she agreed with her.

“I’ll take my leave then. Again, I am very, very sorry Miss Samantha. Miss Grace, goodnight.” He left without speaking to Maggie or Eunice. Florence came walking behind the senator and looked at Samantha. She had a huge smirk on her face and flicked her eyebrows to signify a number of things. Among those things were, “Boy did he screw the pooch,” and “You go girl.” Florence gave Samantha a wink and left.

Everyone else in the room agreed that it was an appropriate time to leave. As Gloria left she said, “I expect to see you next weekend.”

After everyone was out the door, Maggie called Samantha and Lisa to a group of chairs. “Sit. Well that was certainly interesting,” she said in a bright tone of voice.

Samantha breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. Samantha could return to her alter ego, Sam. She could return to he. What a night!

“Holy shit,” Lisa said in a long drawn out manner.

“Lisa!” Mona scolded her. “Watch your tongue.”

“Holy cow manure,” she said. “I think that was one of the more interesting parties I have seen in a long time. Do you think the senator made a miscalculation here this evening?”

Everyone laughed. Sam asked, “What rumors were you talking about?”

“The senator is a long time confirmed bachelor. And he is a pretty boy. Some people have been suggesting he is gay. So he was hoping that if he got slapped for making improper advances towards a pretty lady, the press would stop spreading the gay rumor.”

“Oh,” I understand.

“Samantha, all I can say is phenomenal. You were superb, glorious, beautiful, and everything else in your girl persona,” Grace stated. “The Hendersons are happy, we sealed our deal and no one is any the wiser. Did you enjoy the evening? Did you enjoy being a girl for one night? Was it what you expected?”

Sam slowly nodded his head up and down. He took a moment to compose his thoughts and slip back into boy mode. He truly had been Samantha the girl this one, eventful evening. “It was truly educational. This is a social level that I would never have achieved, let alone knew existed. I met a Senator, an asshole senator, but a senator none the less. I met congressmen and some real nice people.”

“Were you comfortable as a girl? Did we prepare you well enough?”

“Yes. I felt comfortable and totally prepared. Well, except for one incident.”

“And you handled that brilliantly,” Maggie interrupted.

With a sly smile Sam added, “And there were some other surprises tonight.”

Interestingly, no one asked what those other surprises were.

“Great,” Maggie said. “Now, I have to go see what my kitchen looks like. And I’m going to have another piece of my chocolate death. Is anyone else hungry?” She looked at Lisa and Sam and made it clear that they were supposed to follow her.

The three left the room and Grace immediately asked Mona, “She went for the skiing?”

“Yes. She seemed interested in the New York City trip too, but we never even got around to the Paris offer. Some moron screwed us up there. Mom, what do we do about May?”

“Let’s not make any rash decisions now while we’re still hot about it. Let’s cool down and discuss it calmly at Monday staff meeting. If we put our minds together I’m sure that we can not only make him pay, but we can squeeze some important concessions out of him,” Grace said.

Eunice asked, “Did she get her propositions?”

Mona started laughing. “I was watching her when Lydia made her move. You should have seen Samantha’s eyes; they were as big as saucers.” Everyone laughed. Then they all smiled at one another.

Lisa, Sam and Maggie made their way to the kitchen. Lisa and Sam took a seat around the big cutting block and Maggie dished out her chocolate dessert. They all began eating and Maggie smiled at Sam. She started laughing and said, “Hell of a night. We haven’t had that much fun in ages.” They all continued laughing for a moment.

“Will the senator get away with what he did? Will the rumors get out?” Sam asked.

Maggie laughed again, set her fork on the butcher block and looked at the ceiling. “The rumors will get out, but not the one he wanted. I suspect in a couple of days everyone will know that Mona ripped him apart. The senator is going to lose support and Mona’s reputation is going to grow. As much as I love that woman, she is dangerous.” Maggie looked at Lisa as she finished her comments.

“Now, important stuff; skiing. You two want to go heli-skiing. Is that right?”

“Yep.”

“Ok, here is my take on the situation. Samantha can go skiing, but not Sam.”

“Why not?”

Maggie stared at Lisa and said, “Gloria. Duh?”

Sam asked, “What?”

Maggie explained. “Gloria can’t keep her mouth shut. If Sam shows up, sooner or later she tells someone, her sister probably. Word gets back to her mom, and then 5 minutes later it gets back to Mona. You don’t want to go there Samantha. If you’re not castrated, you’ll at least be cast out. You will never see Lisa again.”

Sam understood.

“You can’t wear a wig skiing. You know that won’t work, so you have to keep your long hair. And Gloria will figure things out if you show up with short hair. She’ll quickly determine you are a boy, so you really have no choice here.”

The girls agreed. “So what do we do?” Lisa asked.

“Sam goes back to school with long hair. You take your lumps, Samantha. You can try and make up some story about being in a play or being prepped for an ad shoot or whatever. But you also have to explain your waxed legs and chest. It’s up to you. Do you want the heat or not? It’s your choice.”

“Ok, what if I don’t want to go that route. Are there any other choices?” Sam asked.

“Yep. You can get the mumps. Our doctor at the clinic will write the proper documents if I ask her. We send them off to school and tell them you are in quarantine and we ask if you can finish the semester on-line. This isn’t without precedent. We did this with Harriet when she had surgery.

“You contact all your buddies at school, tell them you’re out with the mumps for the rest of the semester and you can walk away from them. Lisa can go to your dorm room and pick up your books and anything else you might need. So that part is easily handled. Now then, where do you stay? You have a couple of options there.

“First, you can stay here. Your welcome to stay here, but Mona will want to know why you’re here. I doubt you want to answer those questions.”

“Not a chance,” Sam said.

“Right, I figured so. We could put you up at Jennifer’s. The benefit is you could continue your riding lessons in the afternoon. The downside is the staff. There are no secrets around here. So you have to hope that none of the maids or inside help spill the word to Mona. I put the chances of that happening at fifty-fifty. The other down side is you don’t sit in on any classes at school, which makes things more difficult on your studies. Your call Samantha.

“There is one last idea. You go back to school as a girl.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up at that comment. “I can make arrangements for you to stay off campus in an efficiency apartment. I’m sure there is something close, Lisa?”

“Sure, about 3 blocks from the sorority house is an efficiency motel.”

“We can put you up there. I’ll handle the cost. Now that gives you some options. As a freshman I am sure that most of your classes are large lecture hall groups. You can sit in the back, take notes and get a first hand look at the lectures. It will help your grades I’m sure.”

“But English Comp and Poli Sci are small classes and the professors know who I am.”

“We tell the administration that you are working on-line and your sister is going to sit in on classes for you and take notes. You will be your own sister.”

Sam’s mouth fell open and he just looked at Maggie. Maggie gave him a reassuring smile, “We can do this. As pretty as you are, no one will recognize you, I’m sure of that. But we can do a few more things with your looks to be even surer. The first real problem is getting your sister a school ID. You’ll need that. And you don’t have a Samantha ID to use when you go to get your school ID. That will take a day longer, but I can get that too. So you have stay out of small classes on Monday.

“The other big problem is your beard. Here at home we were able to use enough makeup to cover your beard. But on campus you just can’t go around wearing lots of makeup. College girls don’t usually wear much makeup, so it will be a dead giveaway. And the same goes for skiing; you won’t be able to wear any makeup there. So we have to minimize your beard. We can do that with laser depilation. We would have to start tomorrow. Then you would have to get it again every other day. In between days will require some help, but not as much as you’re using now.”

Maggie looked at Sam with a compassionate expression. “It can be done Samantha. It won’t be easy, and there are a few other details that we need to refine, but you can do it. All costs will be picked up by me. The jet will pick you up next Friday, I’ll have all of Harriet’s skiing clothes on the jet waiting for you. Ski equipment is supplied by the lodge.

“Do you want to sleep on it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said as he blinked profusely.

“Samantha, you make a very pretty and convincing girl. Trust me there. I’ll let you sleep on it, but I have to have a leaning one way or another now. If you say yes, I’ll be making some calls very early tomorrow morning. Do you have a feeling?” Sam thought for a moment then nodded affirmative. “Fine, you can still change your mind if you want.

“Why don’t you two take off and enjoy what’s left of the night.”

Lisa took Sam’s hand and looked in his eyes as she led them out of the kitchen. Lisa smiled at Sam and squeezed his hand. She said nothing until they reached Mona’s study. “We need to say goodbye to Miss Grace and Miss Eunice.”

The women remained seated when the girls entered. “We’re going back to school tomorrow so we came to say goodbye.” Lisa gave Grace and Eunice a big hug and kiss.

Sam addressed Grace first, “It was nice meeting you.” Sam stood back, not knowing what to do. Grace solved the problem by approaching and giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Samantha, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope I didn’t put you out too much this week, but if I had to do it over again, I would. You make a beautiful girl. Come back and visit us … as a girl or a boy.”

Sam should have been a little concerned to be invited back as a girl. A day earlier he would have been upset with the invitation. But much can change in 24 hours. Sam and Eunice said their goodbyes, then Mona stepped out from behind her desk. “I’ll be off to church before you two lazy bones get up tomorrow. And after church I’m going to grandmother’s for some business. So I won’t see you again. Samantha, it was a pleasure meeting you. I echo Miss Grace’s comments. Please come back and visit us. You will always be welcome here.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Lisa and Sam attempted to leave but Grace called them back. “Ahem,” and she held out her hand. It took Sam a moment to understand what Grace was doing.

With a silly grin Sam said, “Oh, I thought you gave them to me for keeps.” Grace chuckled as Sam removed his earrings. As he handed them to Grace he asked, “Just out of curiosity, how much are they worth?”

“It’s been a while since they were assessed, but more than a million per earring.”

“Wow. I bet that’s the last time I’m worth a million bucks.”

“Oh, I doubt that Samantha. I seriously doubt that. You’re worth a million bucks without jewelry. Good luck at school,” and she dismissed the kids.

Lisa took Sam’s hand and led him up to Harriet’s room. Before they removed a single strip of clothing, Lisa was in Sam’s arms and kissing him passionately. They French kissed for several moments before Lisa broke the kiss. Still holding Sam in her arms she laid her head on his chest and said, “I meant to say something this morning, but I forgot. I still intend to hold myself for my future husband. I wanted you to know that last night was something special, but I don’t intend to sleep with you all the time.”

“That’s fine,” Sam said. “I understand.”

“But you don’t understand,” Lisa said. “I have to make an exception tonight.” Sam began smiling. “Something happened tonight and I don’t totally understand it. But when you told me about Lydia wanting you, I got jealous. I can’t explain it, but I looked at you all dressed up and I fell in love with you. But it is Samantha I fell in love with. I’m not bi, but you are so beautiful and somehow I just knew I had to have you.

“So tonight, will you stay as Samantha and make love to me?”

“This is weird beyond weird,” Sam thought. “But I’ll take sex from this beautiful girl anytime she offers.” Sam kissed her passionately.

They arrived at Lisa’s bed, both dressed in frilly pink babydolls. Sam was wearing his breast forms, but he had removed his bra. He had no corset or panties under his babydoll. He had removed his makeup, but at Lisa’s request he had touched up his perfume. Sam’s hair was still styled in his Tyra Bank’s look.

Lisa dropped into the bed and scooted up against the headboard. “She patted the sheets between her spread legs and asked, “Would you give me a special treat? Like this morning?”

“I’d love to,” replied Sam. Lisa was already dripping wet with anticipation when Sam took up his dutiful position between his girlfriend’s long, smooth legs. As he lowered his head Lisa could feel Sam’s long hair brushing against her skin, and the excitement sent shivers through her. She trembled as Sam slipped his tongue into Lisa’s warm, moist slit and ran it up against her clit. Lisa was so hyped that she came at once. Wave after wave of temblors shook through her body as she clenched her thighs around Sam and rode out her intense orgasm.

Sam had come to a halt on Lisa’s order to stop. He knew she was experiencing an overwhelming orgasm, and he waited for her instructions. He breathed in the aromas and pheromones of her quivering vagina, and he became more excited himself. He began rubbing his penis against the soft satin sheets of the bed.

“Stop it,” Lisa commanded. “Save yourself for me. You can wait.”

Sam was startled by Lisa’s voice and he froze his position. He looked up at her eyes and she said, “You are really good at bringing me to fulfillment. Please start again.” He knew that didn’t mean to start rubbing himself again. He pushed his nose into her musky aromas and once again began stimulating Lisa with his tongue and lips.

Lisa could now relax just a bit. Her initial orgasm had been building for hours, and now that she had sated her initial lust, she could spend more time enjoying Sam’s performance.
And she truly enjoyed watching and feeling Sam perform his duties between her legs. His long hair looked beautiful and exotic as it brushed and rubbed against her electric skin. Her senses were heightened and Sam’s hair felt so perfect against her.

And now he was going to keep his hair. They would take him to the salon tomorrow and give him a curly permanent and feminize him even more. He would be beautiful, effeminate and eventually emasculated. He would respond to Lisa’s every wish and perform every duty set before him. The thought of Sam in his pretty satin maid uniform with bright, cherry lips brought Lisa to another thunderous orgasm. Her back arched and her legs wrapped around Sam and almost suffocated him as she squeezed every ounce of electrical energy out of her body. She was in nirvana.

Two orgasms and she had hardly started. The thought of another woman dominating Sam had raised her desire for raw, passionate sex. She ordered Sam to begin a third time. Lydia with Sam was the thought pushing into her mind. Lydia, a beautiful woman in her own right, forcing Sam onto his knees, still dressed in his LBD, and nudging his nose and tongue against Lydia’s smooth cunt. Her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down and against her ordering him to lick and suck and lick and bring her to orgasm. Lydia morphed into Lisa and Sam’s dress morphed into lingerie. A brassier holding huge mounds of flesh, jiggling as his head bounced up and down between her legs. Smooth stockings attached to a garter belt, stiletto heels accentuating his legs, stretched out behind him as she grabbed his head and pulled his tongue deep into her. Like a volcano growing within her, her pelvis rose and another shattering orgasm exploded through her.

Lisa had to wait several minutes to recover her strength and composure. Sam laid his head on her thigh and dutifully waited for his instructions. She stroked and petted his hair, feeling it’s softness beneath her finger tips. She twisted his hair into her very own pin curl, while Sam caressed her leg with his hand.

“My god you are awesome,” she told him. “I can’t stand it anymore. Please come up here where I can pull you into me.” Sam quickly obeyed, literally jumping on Lisa and driving his tongue, saturated with her essence deep inside her mouth. His actions caught her by surprise and she did not like the taste at all. She quickly rolled over on top of him and pulled back, ejecting his tongue from her mouth. Instead she kissed him on the ear, driving her tongue into his ear and giving him goose bumps.

Lisa straddled Sam and sat on his penis, rubbing her crotch against him. It took her almost no time to allow him to slide inside her wet pussy and she quickly began stroking up and down, smashing her pelvis against his. She heard the slapping of his scrotum and testicles as she became more aggressive and increasingly rough. She pumped quicker on his throbbing penis as it slid effortlessly inside of her. She slid her hips lower to force his penis to rub harder against her clitoris. That was the move she wanted and it took no time for her to experience her fourth orgasm of the evening. Sam’s penis erupted into his condom, filling it with his very essence.

Even after she had come, Lisa continued to rock back and fourth on his cock, milking it empty as she let the fever slowly subside from her loins. She leaned back and let her hair fall across her back as she looked towards the stars and rubbed her hands across Sam’s taught abdomen. She could hear the heavy breathing from both of them. Slowly, the two of them regained their breath and they were able to speak.

“Thank you,” she said. “That was fantastic. You are a fantastic lover. My god you are great,” and she slid off him and onto her back, resting and relaxing in the scent and feel of their bodies. She laid a leg across his legs and threw her arm across his chest, just under his faux breasts. With her head resting on his shoulder she soon fell asleep.

CHAPTER 19

The phone was ringing loudly and it was irritating to say the least. Lisa rolled over and picked it up, “Hello?”

“I figured that’s where I’d find you.”

“Daddy?”

“Maggie! Stay in character Lisa! Now, who is coming down to breakfast? Because if it is Sam, you can roll over and go back to sleep. But if it is Samantha, we have a lot to do. And make sure he takes off his breast forms. They’ve been glued on long enough.”

“Ok, I’ll call you back in a few minutes.” She hung up the phone and fell back on the bed.

“What was that about?” Sam asked.

“Maggie wants us to get our butts in gear. But she needs to know something. Sweetie, she needs to know if we’re going skiing.”

Sam fell flat on his back and stared at the bed canopy for a few minutes. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “Part of me wants to go, but part of me isn’t so sure about … you know what.”

“I understand. I know which part I hope wins out, but it’s your decision. Either way, we need to get up. We have to take off your breast forms.”

“Even if I say I want to go skiing.”

“Yep. You’ve had them on long enough and your skin needs to breathe. And we need to clean the glue off them and you.”

Sam sat up in the bed and said, “I’ve finally gotten use to them.”

Lisa rubbed his back and said, “You can wear them again. In fact, I’d love it if you would wear them for me next weekend.”

“This is really weird. I feel like a homo or something.”

“Did last night make you feel like a homo?” Lisa asked. Sam snickered. “It’s a means to an end. That’s all it is.” She didn’t mention whose end.

“Ok,” he said. “Let’s go skiing.”

Lisa pulled him over backwards on the bed and kissed him slowly. “That a girl, Samantha. Welcome to the better half.” They kissed again and then Lisa pushed him up, “We have a busy day ahead of us Samantha. You get undressed and let me call Maggie. She has a lot to arrange.”

Sam and Lisa walked into the breakfast nook. Sam had his hair brushed, and a bit of lipstick. He was wearing his normal lingerie; panties and panty girdle, corset liner and corset and a brassier with no breast forms. Sam was as flat as a pancake. Over his lingerie he wore a pair of Harriet’s jeans and a sleeveless lime green top. For shoes he was wearing Harriet’s sneakers.

“Good morning Samantha,” Maggie chirped. Maggie was wearing her pink maid outfit with the short skirt and petticoat. “You look like a college co-ed going back to school.”

“I hope this works, Maggie,” he pleaded as much as he stated.

“You’re going to be fine, Samantha. I’ve already had the doctor fax off a letter to the school concerning your mumps and your contagious situation. We can tell them you will be quarantined at Jennifer’s address. If she gets anything she can pass it along to you.

“I’ve already reserved two rooms at the efficiency motel for the rest of the semester.”

“Why 2 rooms?”

“Because we care about you Samantha. Even though you make a brilliant girl, you’re still going to be out in the real world where anything can happen. You’ve never done this before and you have no idea what you might encounter. So I am hiring a bodyguard for you.”

“A bodyguard?” he asked incredulously.

“Absolutely. She will stay either across the hall or next door to you. Whenever you go out you are to notify her and tell her where you are going. She will follow inconspicuously half a block behind you. Never, and I mean this Samantha, never go out anywhere without telling her first. When trouble arrives, it’s usually at those times you think you are the safest. Do you understand? Will you promise me, promise Lisa, that you will always go out with your bodyguard? Do you promise to never attempt to lose her? Promise?”

Maggie made it sound very serious. “I promise.”

“Good. You don’t have to give her any consideration other than telling her when and where you go someplace. She is not your buddy and you don’t need to worry about her in any way. She’ll feed herself after she watches you eat at a restaurant. In every way she will take care of herself. You don’t even need to say good morning. She is being paid to look after you. Don’t worry about her. Ok?”

Sam nodded in agreement.

“You should have a thousand dollars from your modeling, right?”

“Yep,” he said.

“Keep it in a safe place. If you need any more money, tell Lisa or call me.” Maggie offered Samantha her business card.

Sam laughed and said, “I’m not sure that I should accept that card.”

“Why not?”

“Because the last time I did that I was propositioned for sex,” he giggled.

“What are you talking about?” Maggie was playing her role of ignorance.

Lisa butted in, “It’s a funny story Maggie, but I’ll tell you later. Remind me.”

Sam accepted the card and saw the name Maggie Hawthorne. Beneath it he saw Maggie’s title — Executive Vice President. “Wow,” he thought to him self. “But I can’t ask you for money. It’s not right.” Sam complained.

“Yes you can,” Maggie said. “We’re asking you to walk away from a situation where you have already paid for everything. Like I said, I’ll handle your room, but you are going to have to pay for food and incidentals. Don’t worry about money, we won’t run out.” Sam smiled, he knew that statement was true.

“Clothes and dressing. You will need to wear a corset to shrink your waist. You don’t have female hips. You’re too thin, and your hips look more like a 12 or 13 year old, than a college age girl. Since you don’t have wide enough hips, you have to have a narrow waist and larger top.” Maggie handed Sam a small stack of papers. “These are some items I printed off this morning. They’re about tightlacing, which is what you call wearing a corset full time. When you get a chance look it up and read about it. You have to take care of your skin.

“I know most college girls are wearing jeans, and that is probably the easiest thing for you to wear. But you have a problem with those hips. The girls are wearing their jeans tight, and in that style they tend to emphasize your hips and butt. I don’t think you want to do that, but since jeans are so easy you need to consider them. But if I were you, I would wear skirts as much as possible.

“But what you can do is go to Victoria’s Secret and look for butt and hip padding. I’ve never seen any that I thought looked realistic, but stuff changes. If you can find good padding, then make sure to wear them with your jeans. And even under a skirt it may not hurt to pad your butt.”

“Ok. That makes sense,” Sam agreed.

“I’ve had Chas take some luggage up to Harriet’s room. You and Lisa go through her clothes and pick out what you need. You’ve got about two hours before we have to leave. If you need anything call Chas.

“We need to leave at 11:00. I’ve already called the salon and left a voice mail telling them we have had a change of plans. Instead of removing your hair extensions, I’ve told them to plan on giving you a perm. Taking care of your hair is going to be difficult for you at first. You just don’t have the experience with long hair. A perm will make things easier for you. You just wash your hair, soak up the excess water, then let it air dry. It will dry in a mass of curls and will look very nice and normal. Does that sound acceptable?”

“Yep,” Sam nodded his head.

“The other problem you have is your beard. As I said last night, laser depilation is the best way to go. So you will get your first session this afternoon. It will remove the hair on your face, but only temporarily. You need to do this many times. So I have given your bodyguard instructions to find a salon at school that can handle you on an every other day schedule.

“Even though the laser gets the exposed hair off your face, you will still be able to see some of your hair follicles. So you will still have to use some beard cover and foundation. And of course you will need to wear a bit of lipstick. I’d use some blush, but definitely stay away from eye makeup. That’s too much for a college girl, and you don’t need it. Your lash extensions give you naturally pretty eyes. So I left some makeup for you in Harriet’s room. But remember, go light. Keep it natural.

“You can’t leave your breast forms glued on all the time. It’s not good for your skin. Tighten your bra straps a little, and wear them loose for the week. I’d suggest the smaller forms, but that’s certainly personal preference,” and she grinned at Sam. “When you go skiing, you will certainly want to glue them on then.

“Before I send you off upstairs, one comment about nutrition. You need to lose a bit of weight, and tightlacing will help you with that. But I suggest that you use vitamins. Knowing college kids, I suspect that eating out all the time your diet will consist of pizza more than a balanced meal. So take vitamins. I have some here you can have if you want.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Sam said.

“Anything else you kids can think of?” Neither kid said anything. “Ok, go pack. I’m going to clean up.” Maggie grabbed a bunch of the breakfast dishes and carried them into the kitchen.

Lisa grabbed the rest and said to Sam, “I’ll be right back.”

Lisa entered the kitchen and dropped off her load. “Maggie, are you giving him hormones?”

“No. Dr. Ratchet won’t prescribe hormones until she has done a complete workup on Sam.”

“So what are you giving him?”

“They’re the lowest prescription level available for anti-androgens. That is all she would give me.”

“What good will they do?”

“They’ll slow down his maturing process. His testosterone level will drop a little, and that will slow down further growth of his secondary sexual characteristics.”

“That’s not good enough,” Lisa complained. “He’ll still be going forward with his masculine development.”

“Hold on. He will be tucking also. The reason that testicles are located outside your body is because they have to remain cooler than body temperature. If he pushes his testicles into his body, and keeps them there all the time, his sperm production will drop along with his testosterone level. Between the pills and his tucking, his maturing process will stagnant.”

“Ok, that sounds better. But how do we keep him tucking all the time? How do I keep Samantha doing that full time?”

“How do you keep me doing what full time?” Sam asked as he stepped into the kitchen.

Maggie didn’t miss a step, “We’re talking about keeping you safe. As we talked about this week, everything you do has to be like second nature to you. You have to be totally comfortable in your skin. We want you to stay in character full time. Wear your bra even at night. Take a sleeping bra with you and use it. Stay in your corset 24/7. Tightlacing isn’t effective if you’re not in your corset at least 22 or 23 hours a day. And tucking. I’m guessing that is the least natural thing for you. I strongly suggest that you tuck at night also. Sleep with panties and panty girdle and get totally used to having you penis tucked safely away between your legs. Can you do that?”

Lisa walked over to Samantha and threw her arms around his neck and looked in his eyes. “Please? For Me? Will you promise to tuck all the time?” It was an overly dramatic performance by Lisa, but it worked.

“I’ll try,” he said.

Sam and Lisa went to Harriet’s room and began packing clothes for the trip back to school. “This is only temporary Samantha, until we can get to the shops and get you your own clothes.”

“But why do I need so many things? I’m only going to be a girl for another week.”

“Whoa, Samantha. Think about that. You can’t claim you’re sick for just one week and then go back like nothing happened. The school will insist on a full physical before they let you back in. There will be all kinds of questionnaires, and you will have to go to their doctor. And you don’t get over the mumps in one week. No sweetie, this isn’t for just one week, it’s for the rest of the semester.”

Sam dropped onto the bed and stared at her. She was right of course. How could he have missed that? What was he thinking? Or not thinking? Wow, this was more permanent than he thought. The rest of the semester. “I guess I wasn’t thinking this through,” he finally said and he continued to stare at her.

“Are you changing your mind?” Lisa was becoming worried. “I hope not.”

Sam remained quiet for another few moments then sighed. “No. I’m not changing my mind. I just didn’t think straight is all. But I’m ok now. If I can do it for one week, why not 8 additional weeks?”

“Or the rest of your life?” Lisa asked herself.

They packed 12 suitcases and Lisa still wasn’t satisfied. “After we get your books, we’ll go shopping tonight.” They finished their packing and called for Chas.

Chas drove Maggie, Lisa and Sam in the big limousine. They could have used a dump truck for all the things Lisa had packed. On the way into Washington D.C. Maggie was on her cell phone several times, handling all kinds of details. Chas dropped the 3 of them off in front of the Hawthorne Building and they immediately headed towards the salon. Bridgette was on duty and waiting for them. Bridgette gave Maggie a kiss and welcomed the others.

“Samantha, I was expecting to remove your hair extensions this morning. This is a most welcome surprise. May I formally welcome you to the better side of life? Live long and be beautiful!” Everyone giggled.

“It’s a surprise for me too.”

Bridgette turned to Maggie, “I want to make sure that I understand correctly. A tight, pin curl permanent with no coloring. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Laser depilation for the face. Moderate, because Samantha will begin maintenance lasering on an every other day. Correct?”

“Yes, again.”

“And the doctor will be here sometime this forenoon to administer collagen. Yes?”

“What?” Sam jumped in.

Maggie answered his concerns, “For your lips. The lip-plumping lipstick wasn’t very effective. Your face needs several things Samantha, the least of which is rhinoplasty and higher cheekbones. We can’t perform surgery here, but we can plump your lips with collagen. It lasts a couple of months and will in perspective narrow the impact of your large nose and weak cheekbones.”

Sam just looked at her in confusion. “Really?”

Maggie smiled and chuckled very slightly, “Really. Trust me, please.”

“Ok,” Sam acquiesced.

Bridgette had her marching orders and she took over. “Samantha, this way for your first perm. It will be your first perm, right?”

“I’ve never had one before,” Sam answered.

“Precious. I think you will like it. Every girl likes her first perm, but you’re a special girl, so we will have to wait until afterwards to get your opinion.” Bridgette took Sam to the washbasin and settled him into his chair, threw a pink plastic cape over him and laid him back onto the basin. She warmed the tap water, sprayed it over his long locks and lathered him up. He noticed a sweet lavender smell to the shampoo. Bridgette lathered his hair and rinsed twice. From somewhere invisible to Sam, Maggie produced her camera and began shooting Sam’s first permanent. Lisa seated herself nearby to watch, and got extremely wet and horny watching her lover feminized another step on his way to her sissified husband. Her hand inadvertently wandered between her thighs and pressed against her hidden glory.

The neat thing about pin curls is how fast a practiced beautician can swirl them into a girl’s head. As thick and luxurious as Sam’s hair was, it didn’t slow down Bridgette in the slightest. She had Sam in curls and ready for his solution in no time at all. But then the doctor made her arrival. Maggie immediately welcomed Dr. Ratchet and brought her over to Sam. Dr. Ratchet was a tall woman, well over 6 foot, yet she was thin and very shapely. She was wearing shapely pants with an oversized cashmere sweater. Maggie introduced the two of them.

Extending her hand the doctor lost no time getting to work. “Samantha, you want larger lips. Plump lips that look sexy and hungry for … who knows what?” and she laughed loudly. As professional as she tried to present her image, her actions were a bit on the vulgar side. “You have good contour and shape, collagen will work very well for you.”
She quickly pulled a small can of ethyl chloride from her black bag and announced, “A little quick freeze for your lips. Anesthetic to numb you,” and she sprayed it on Sam’s lips. While Sam smacked his lips and began drooling, Dr. Ratchet pulled out a large needle and glass vial with a rubber stopper. She filled the needle from the vial and approached Sam menacingly.

At least Sam thought the doctor was bearing a menacing demeanor. Truth be told, her bed-side manner lacked a bit of empathy. But then again, she was trained to be a modern-day doctor in the USA. Empathy wasn’t practiced during her internship. A couple of quick jabs and the matter of Samantha’s swollen lips was over.

“Your lips will swell a bit more than usual in the next two or three days, and then subside. You will look very sexy and pouty. Most desirable for the boys,” and again she laughed too loudly.

Maggie had seen enough and she quickly helped the doctor out of the way and towards the door. Sam’s lips and mouth were numb, he wasn’t sure he could talk or drink, but he was sure that Maggie didn’t really care for Dr. Ratchet. Maggie’s body language was very clear, although Dr. Ratchet seemed oblivious to that language. She must have been more responsive to some other type of language, but Sam had no idea what that might be.

Lisa stayed in her seat, her legs crossed and her right hand between her thighs and imperceptibly sliding in and out of her crotch. Lisa was in heaven.

Bridgette began squeezing solution out of a bottle and over Sam’s curls. “Is it cold?” Bridgette asked. Sam made some noise that indicated that it was indeed cold. “That happens. The cold won’t last long. We need to let this set for 20 or 30 minutes, so let me put you under the dryer and add a little heat. While you’re doing that I’ll set up the laser.”

Bridgette put a baggy over Sam’s head, set a timer, slipped him under a dryer and then left the room. Lisa asked, “Do you want anything? Something to drink?” Sam said no.

Sam sat in his chair totally bewildered and confused. Confused because he wasn’t sure why he was doing this. Oh ok, he knew why he was doing this — he wanted to sleep with Lisa. Damn she was beautiful! And he thought it would be oh so cool to fly on a private jet and go skiing in Canada and fly around in a helicopter. My god, how many boys ever got a chance to do that? But … but he was going to dress like a girl for the rest of the school year. Why in the hell would he do that? He wasn’t queer or anything. He wasn’t a homo. So why in the hell did he agree to this?

Oh yea, sex and money. Those were two good reasons. He was going to live like the rich for a short while. Cool!

Bridgette had hardly finished in the other room when the timer went off. She took Sam to the wash basin and thoroughly rinsed out the perm solution. Then she applied a second solution to “fix” the chemistry. This solution she left on several minutes before again rinsing it out under the water. The next step normally would have been to put Sam under the dryer, but instead Bridgette began his laser treatments.

“Samantha, come this way. We can get a start while your hair is drying, then we can finish later.” Sam followed her into another room and laid down on a comfortable lounge. The working end of the laser was a tube that Bridgette held over a specific area of the face, then a laser pulse destroyed the hair. Next she would move to the adjacent space and fire another pulse. The process left the skin tingling and dry.

Bridgette spent about 45 minutes working on Sam’s face. He didn’t have that much hair, so there wasn’t that much to remove. Other than red blotches, his face looked smooth. He was herded over to the dryer to finish drying his hair under low temperature. With the large amount of hair he had, the drying took another 40 minutes. It was early afternoon when Bridgette unwound the curls and let them cascade down. Sam liked what he saw. “You don’t have to do anything with them if you want,” Bridgette explained. “You have a head full of tight curls and you look great. Wash your hair and let it air dry and this is what you will get. Use a brush as much or as little as you want. For instance, this set can be brushed out to give you the exact same style you had last night. It really is a versatile style. Just take care of the attachments, they can be fragile. Enjoy.”

“Ok girls, let’s get moving,” Maggie announced. She gave Bridgette a hug and a kiss, then pushed the girls towards the door. Maggie led them out to the street where Chas was waiting for them. They piled into the limo and began the three hour ride back to campus. After a few moments Maggie asked Sam, “Do you have your computer with you?”

“Sure,” and he pointed to it.

“Well then, here is something for you,” and Maggie handed him a flash drive. “You might want to see the pictures I took of you,” she told Sam.

Sam smiled and picked up his computer, booted it up and inserted the flash drive. He began downloading the pictures and noticed how big the files were. “I shoot large format,” Maggie explained. “Each picture is over 24 meg. You know in case you see one you want to blow up to poster size.”

Sam smiled and Lisa slid closer as they looked at the pictures together. Sam was a little surprised but pleased by what he saw. Maggie was a very good photographer and most of the pictures were very flattering to Samantha. They pictured Sam/Samantha from the first practice day up through yesterday. Maggie would give him today’s salon visit when she had a chance to download the pictures. Sam thought he looked very convincing and pretty. He even thought that in some pictures he was sexy. It was a narcissistic thought, but he was only being truthful to himself. Samantha was a pretty girl, especially when she was all dolled up in a little black dress with pretty hair and makeup. Sam liked what he saw. They spent most of the trip back to campus looking at pictures.

Upon reaching campus they immediately went to Sam’s dorm. Sam had already called his roommate and explained the situation. Sam remained behind the tinted windows of the limousine while Lisa, Maggie and Chase took Sam’s key and went up to his room. They collected his books and clothing and returned to the limo shortly thereafter. Sam got to enjoy the spectacle of kids trying to peer into the limo and see if anyone was inside.

From the dorms they drove over to the Best Extended Stay Apartments. Maggie confirmed the reservation made by their local guard service. Sam would be across the hall from Jill Gayle on the second floor of the building. Jill introduced herself as they were moving items into Sam’s new residence. Jill was a bit taller than average, and a bit heavier. In every other way she was rather non-descript, which was exactly the look she was striving to achieve. And she was pleasant. Sam thought he would like her.

After Sam’s things were moved in, Lisa returned to her sorority house. “I’ll be back by 6:00 so we can go shopping and eat,” she said on her way out the door. Maggie and Chas said their goodbyes, and Sam found himself in his new room and by himself. It was the first time that he had been alone. He began thinking about what he was doing, and his first butterflies started to flutter through his stomach.

But before he could maneuver himself into full-blown panic attacks, Jill and Lisa arrived. Lisa helped him fluff his hair and Jill drove them to the local Victoria’s Secret. “You need your own lingerie and sleepwear,” Lisa insisted. While Jill strode around the outside of the store, Lisa pulled out dozens of brassieres and intimates for “Samantha” to try on. Sam felt slightly helpless as Lisa and a salesgirl kept him confined to a changing booth as they brought new items to him. Sam would try them on, Lisa would inspect and comment, and then they would make their decision.

Lisa found several padded hip-huggers to help with Sam’s slim hips. They (Lisa actually) quickly came to the conclusion that the added girth looked good with a skirt, but not with jeans or pants. It appeared that Sam would primarily be wearing skirts. So after spending over three hundred dollars at Victoria’s, Lisa took Sam to another store to buy personalized skirts for him to wear. He had a closet full of Harriet’s skirts, but Lisa wanted him to have his very own. Lisa was intent on making sure that Sam had his own collection of female clothes, and he didn’t get into the mindset of thinking he was only borrowing clothes from Lisa’s sister. It may have been a subtle distinction, but it was an important part of Sam’s sojourn to femininity (if not actually emasculation). Ownership and acceptance have much in common.

After lingerie and skirts they stopped at a small restaurant where Lisa ordered a salad and diet soft drink for Sam “Did you read the instructions on tightlacing?” Lisa asked.

“I haven’t had a chance yet,” Sam admitted.

“Please read it when you get back tonight. Maggie says it is very important. And of course, you need to lose some weight. Ten or fifteen pounds wouldn’t be too much. Which reminds me, we need to stop and get you a bathroom scale. It’s very important,” she said seriously.

Other than using Sam’s Victoria’s Secret gift card, everything was paid for by Lisa. It was another subtle beginning, where Lisa would make the decisions and handle payment. Sam needed to become accustomed to Lisa being the boss lady. In his feminized dress, nervousness about being in the public, and generally low confidence concerning all these new situations, Sam was happy to relinquish his individual free choice to Lisa. And Lisa took advantage of the situation to strengthen her position between them. Lisa already felt confident in her superiority and control over Sam, and it pleased her immensely.

Lisa and Sam returned to his apartment and Lisa stayed for only a few moments. She wanted to allow him as much “home time” as possible. She knew he would feel isolated and alone. It wouldn’t be long before he not only craved her companionship, but depended on it. There would be no one else the feminized boy could turn to for help or company. He would be totally dependent on his mistress.

CHAPTER 20

Sam was startled by the alarm. He hadn’t exactly slept well, and he was still tired. Even after a week, he was not comfortable sleeping in his tight and confining clothes; especially his corset. And he didn’t know if he would ever become totally comfortable with tucking his testicles and penis between his legs. That just seemed so unnatural to him. But he remained in character.

He slowly crawled from bed and removed all his clothing. That felt so much better. And per his tightlacing instructions, he quickly did 100 sit ups to keep his abdominal muscles strong and defined. The notes had warned that too much tightlacing without adequate exercise would allow the abs to atrophy and weaken.

Then he used the bathroom to wash up and prepare for his day. He wore a shower cap to protect his freshly permed (and very curly) hair while bathing and moisturizing his skin. After his bath he shaved, which wasn’t really necessary but it made him feel “safer”. Toilet, brushing his teeth, and applying his feminine smelling deodorant almost finished the bathroom drill. The last thing Sam did was gargle with his “voice medicine”. The spray bottle was already in his purse. “His purse!” How bizarre, but that was his new life.

Sam dropped his old clothes into a laundry basket and put on fresh lingerie. He dropped his smaller breast forms inside his lacy pink underwire bra and smoothed them into place, before beginning with his corset. Truth be known, he liked the confining snugness of his bra, and the heft of his breasts, but the corset he could do without. Other than his hair style, nothing said girl to Sam more than his voluptuous bra.

Sam knew he was going to have to look good today, so he pulled his corset a little tighter than normal. He slid some silky panties up his sooth legs and tucked his masculinity away for the next 23 hours. Next came his new hip pads, which slid on just like his old panty girdle. They were very tight in the crotch and helped hold his tucked penis between his legs.

Then he turned to his closet of new clothes and picked out a silky camisole, long sleeved blouse and a broom skirt that extended to his ankles. It had been picked out by Lisa and everything was color coordinated and pleasing to the eye; even Sam’s eye. The finishing touch was a belt with a large silver buckle featuring turquoise gems.

Sam finished his ensemble with a pair of 2 inch heels and inspected himself in the mirror. He fluffed his curls a bit and decided he was pleased with what he saw. He wore just a bit of foundation and blush, no eye make up and a light shade of lipstick that Lisa had picked out for him. His eyelashes were still thick and curly, and they gave his eyes a nice feminine touch. He was wearing his earring studs, but later in the week he would switch to hoops and maybe even dangles. He was looking forward to refining and improving his image. If he was going to be a girl, he wanted to be an especially pretty girl. And he was happy with the morning’s results.

Sam poured himself a glass of orange juice, popped a vitamin and ate one slice of unbuttered wheat toast. He freshened his lipstick, slipped on his new lavender back pack and purse combination and checked for keys. Once he had closed and locked his door, he took a deep breath and settled the butterflies in his stomach.

“This is it, Samantha,” he said quietly. “Remember what you learned. Be demure, be pretty and be sweet.” Lisa had emphasized being sweet to everyone he met. “Give everyone a sweet smile, Samantha dear,” he mouthed. “This is your big day.” Gulp.

Sam knocked on the door across the hall and Jill instantly opened up. “Ready for your new start, Samantha?” Jill had been instructed that she would be guarding Samantha Springer the pretty young co-ed so she used Sam’s feminine name. Sam Springer no longer existed.

“I guess.”

“Don’t worry, you look heavenly. You go first, and I’ll follow,” Jill said as she swept her hand in front of her, inviting Sam to step into his new role.

Down the stairs, across the lobby and out into the beautiful sunshine. It was going to be a very pleasant day. Down two steps from the door and he was on the sidewalk leading out to the real world. He quickly glanced around to see Jill following behind and paying him no attention. Click-clack, click-clack he heard and felt his heels hitting the concrete. He shifted his book bag and could feel the straps pressing against the sides of his breasts. A slight breeze blew from behind and pushed his curls into his face. He tossed his hair back in a very natural maneuver. He hadn’t even practiced the move, but it worked wonderfully, throwing back his curls on either side of his face. The breeze also blew gently against his skirt and pushed the skirt between his lower legs. It didn’t cause any trouble, but it was a new experience for Sam. He decided that he liked it.

One block and he was on the edge of campus. A couple of people walked by on the other side of the street. Another block and he was into the campus proper. A young man was walking towards him. Deep breath and relax. “I’m just another pretty girl going to class. No big deal, just walk calmly and look ahead. Nice smile now.” Sam gave the man a little smile and he returned the gesture, then continued on his way.

“Whew, that was easy. Not even a second glance or second look. Not like walking through Washington D.C. all gussied up. This is going to be easy.” And for the most part it was. The world was different today. Perspectives had changed, paradigms had shifted and people were nicer and friendlier. Almost everyone gave Sam a glance in the eyes and a little smile or nod. When he reached a door someone always opened it for him. Always! His skirt swooshed as he click-clacked his way along the walks. There was a definite bounce in his steps. Even with 2 inch heels, which were so easy they didn’t require a second thought, he had a spring and bounce to his step. When the breeze blew towards him he looked up and let the wind sweep back his curls and he could enjoy their feel against the back of his neck. The breeze blowing through his hair had never felt so exquisite and sexy.

“Sexy.” That’s what he felt. He wasn’t trying to be overtly sexy, just feminine. He loved the swirl of his long skirt as it moved by itself at times. He swished his hips a bit more when he thought boys were watching. He smiled at everyone, and was almost always rewarded with a smile in return. He held his elbows in tight, but he began swinging his arms a little more, putting a bit more meaning into their to and fro pattern. Sam was enjoying the new day.

He was born to be a girl, and he was just beginning to understand that.

Sam reached his first class too soon. The enjoyment of the walk was so new, so fresh and so … titillating ... that he didn’t want to quit yet. But he had reached his first building. Up the steps he went as a boy popped up to open the door for him. “Thank you,” he said in his practiced and hoarse female voice. Sociology was a class of 200 in a large lecture hall. Sam stepped up to the door and someone again held it open for him. He walked around the back of the hall and sat in the last row, the farthest from everyone else. Sliding off his back pack he pulled out his new computer and set it on his desk. He pulled out his purse and a small mirror and checked his hair and make up.

That just seemed weird to Sam, but Lisa had told him to check his hair and makeup every chance he got. It was especially important that he make no slip ups that might give him away, so he had to look as perfect as possible at all times. As he slipped the mirror back into his purse, he saw Jill take a seat about a dozen rows over. She totally ignored him. Sam checked his skirt and made sure everything was in place, hanging properly before he crossed his legs in his most feminine manner. It didn’t matter, no one could see his legs under his long broom skirt, but it just felt right to do it the way he had been taught. The action and attention to detail helped reinforce his current gender. He was enjoying the start of his new life. Sam was now Samantha the beautiful girl.

The professor entered the hall and began his lecture. Through force of habit Sam took a few notes, but his thoughts remained on himself. He kept thinking about how he looked, and how he moved and acted. He could have easily coasted through the lecture in automatic girl mode, without giving a thing a way. But right now, that wasn’t good enough. Sam was enjoying this immensely, and he wanted to maximize his effort and his thrill. For just a moment he remembered how frightened he had been a day earlier. Even this morning he had been apprehensive about even stepping out the door of his apartment. But something happened on his walk to school.

His walk had emboldened him. His confidence had soared and his attitude had turned to shear enjoyment. Sam was enjoying his role as a girl. This was fun. This was exciting, titillating, sexy and most of all, feminine. Everything about this morning said feminine. And that word was becoming the key to his self satisfaction. Sam wanted to be as feminine as possible. He wanted to stand out.

And that was when his preservation for survival returned just a little. “Careful old boy,” he told himself. “Enjoy, but don’t lose your head. You’re not a real girl and you can’t afford to be found out. You’re good, but just remember, you’re still a boy.”

With his head back on straight, Sam’s mind returned to the lecture. At the end of the lecture Sam took his time packing up his things. He had 55 minutes until his next class, and the walk was only ten minutes. When everything was packed up, his cell phone buzzed. He unpacked and checked his text messages. “Call me — Maggie.”

Sam walked outside, through doors that always found a boy to open them for him, and back into the beautiful day. Sam placed his call to Maggie. “Hi sweetheart, how’s your first day going?”

“Good so far.”

“Nervous?”

“I am surprisingly calm. This girl stuff isn’t for me, but I do think I can handle it.” Sam’s tone of voice gave him away. Maggie could tell that he wasn’t just forcing his way through the drudgery and gloom of dressing to pretend he was a girl. No, Maggie could tell he was doing better than that.

“Well good for you. I’m sure the payment will be worth the effort. The snow in Canada is still great. Listen Samantha, I’ve made contact with the school and I can get you an ID without you having to show any ID yourself — other than Sam’s that is. Go to the administration building and find security. At the security office ask for Elizabeth Owens. Give her your Sam ID, and she will get you a new one for Samantha Springer.
I told her that you and Sam are twins, so birth dates and everything else are the same, with one exception.”

“What’s that?”

“Social security number. So I have a new number for you, and you will need to write it down.”

“Just a sec,” Sam said as he looked for paper and pen. “Is this a legitimate number?” Sam didn’t see how it could be, but he wanted to make sure that he understood the situation.

“Absolutely,” Maggie answered.

“But how can that be? Doesn’t it take …?”

Maggie cut him off, “Samantha dear, you have to remember that the Hawthorne family has assets that other people don’t have. Trust me; this is a real number just for you, Samantha Springer.”

Sam was surprised, but he quickly remembered who he was dealing with. And he was just starting to see what enormous amounts of money could buy — things ordinary people could not even dream about. “Thanks for the number. Will I be able to go to my smaller classes then?”

“Not yet. I want to personally talk with those professors and make sure they understand the situation first. Plan on holding off until tomorrow. Ok?”

“No problem. Thanks Maggie,” and Sam clicked off. Sam put everything away and walked on to his next class, algebra.

The walk to algebra was just as exhilarating as Sam’s morning walk. Doors were opened, smiles were returned and everyone around him was very pleasant. Once again he sat in the back of the lecture hall and stayed away from people. Following Lisa’s instructions, he checked his hair, fixed his makeup and actually paid attention to the lecture.

After class, Sam had 30 minutes to mosey over to the student union to meet Lisa and have lunch. But first he had to jump through a much feared hurdle; he had to use the girl’s restroom. “No use putting it off,” he mumbled and off he went looking for the closest location. With a big breath he pushed through a door that had a silhouette drawing of a lady on it. Only one girl was there, and she was busy brushing her hair in the mirror. She gave Sam a casual glance but said nothing.

Sam went into a stall, closed and locked the door. He had no problems with skirts or book bags and easily finished his job with no problems. He moved out to the wash basins and washed his hands as two new girls entered the room. One of them said hi and brushed his arm as she walked by. She looked back at Sam but said nothing more. Sam finished up and headed towards the student union to meet Lisa.

Sam arrived first and stood around the entrance waiting for Lisa. He moseyed around, looking at notices and smiling at the boys who caught his eye. One boy that he smiled at and said hi, walked past him then stopped. He turned around like he was thinking about going back to talk to Sam. Sam saw the move and immediately turned away and walked outside. “Careful old boy,” he told himself. “Calm down on the cute girl routine, at least around the boys.” But then he smiled to himself. The thought of him attracting a guy was a positive ego boost. He liked the thought of that.

Standing outside he was easily spotted by Lisa. “Hey Samantha girl! Watcha doin?” Lisa had a big grin on her face as she walked up and took Sam’s hand. She waved his hand and stood as far back as possible while still holding his hand so she could get a better look at him. “Looking good girl. Very pretty! So how was your day so far?”

“Ok,” he conceded. Sam was playing down his morning emotions.

Lisa wasn’t that good at reading Sam yet, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Lisa led them to the cafeteria and found a table. She dropped off her book bag and told Sam, “Stay here and watch our stuff. I’ll bring you something to eat.” It was a slick way to take control once again. Lisa brought Sam another salad and an apple for later. She helped herself to soup and a sandwich.

“This isn’t much,” Sam whined.

“You’re on a diet, remember?”

“I’m starving!”

“That’s what a diet is all about. I’ll buy you something more substantial at dinner tonight. How’s that?”

“I hope I make it that long.”

“That’s what your apple is for. An afternoon snack. Toss it in your book bag,” Lisa answered with a smile. “So what do you have this afternoon?”

“Nothing much. I can’t go to my afternoon classes until tomorrow, according to Maggie. But I do have to go to security and get my new ID for Samantha Springer.”

“Cool. Then you’ll be official for getting into things. I can’t wait to see your picture. What else, anything?”

“Nope. I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon at the library doing my homework.”

“Which library?”

“Social sciences.”

“Why don’t I meet you there at say five?”

“It’s a date. Then I can go eat some food.”

Sam had no trouble getting his new ID and he finished all of his homework by three. While he was sitting in the periodic area waiting for Lisa to come pick him up, others were finishing their work in his new apartment. Lisa, Mona and Grace would be able to log onto a certain web site and watch Sam when he was in his room. They would be able to track his progress and catch any signs of trouble while they could still easily correct those problems. Sam would not be left alone.

Lisa arrived, “I have to stop by the house and drop off my books. Then we have the evening free. Want to go shopping?”

They arrived at Lisa’s sorority house and the house mother caught Lisa, “A package arrived for Samantha Hawthorne. I wonder if they meant it for you.”

Lisa looked puzzled, “Where is it?”

“In the front room.”

Lisa and Sam went in the front room and found a huge vase of very expensive flowers. Lisa opened the card and read it. With a big smile on her face she handed it to Sam and said, “It’s for you.”

Sam read the card: “Samantha, I am very, very sorry for my actions on Saturday night. Please accept these flowers as a sign of my deepest regrets.” It was signed in hand by Senator May. Sam smiled when he read the note. “The answer is still no, I don’t forgive him.” Lisa gave him a pat on his butt to show she agreed.

Before they went shopping, Lisa had a surprise waiting for him. “Come on up to my room,” and Lisa lead Sam to her third floor bedroom. It was Sam’s first time in her bedroom, and he found it exciting — sexually exciting that is. Her room mate Constance was reading at her desk when they entered. “Hi Constance, I’d like to introduce you to a new friend, Samantha. Samantha, this is Connie.”

Connie was Lisa’s cousin. Her mother was Serena, Miss Grace’s fourth child, Mona was her second. Constance was three years younger than Lisa, and she was at this school for the same reason that Lisa was there; they were looking for pretty epicene boys.

The girls shook hands then Constance rubbed her eyes, stretched and announced, “I’m done for the night. Think I’ll get a shower before I go to dinner.” Constance then began stripping in front of Sam. Sam’s eyes widened as Constance put on a real strip tease show for him. Constance knew who Sam was, she had been told by Lisa, and her stripping act was on special request from Lisa. She wanted to rev up Sam and give him a feel of just being one of the girls. Connie’s act looked like something from Animal House as she slowly stripped to her lingerie, then felt her boobs as she slowly unhooked and dropped her bra. She faced Sam the entire time as she then pulled off her panties and exposed herself in front of him. Sam was staring. Connie threw on a robe, grabbed her bath kit and calmly strode out of the room.

Sam was almost drooling. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, Samantha!” They both laughed. “Shopping and then eating, let’s go you voyeur.”

Tuesday morning Sam had a laser appointment at 7:30. He ran through his new routine then put on a turquoise skirt set. It had a jewel neck, knit top with 3/4 sleeves in a bright turquoise color, and a long crinkle skirt with vertical panels of different blues and purples.

The look was much louder and outgoing than Monday’s outfit. Sam left off his makeup, had a light breakfast then met Jill in the hall. Jill drove him to his appointment and from there to school.

Sam applied a light amount of makeup before he left the salon, so once again he presented the appearance of a slightly above average in looks, college girl. Actually he was more than slightly above average — he was trying harder than the average girl. Sam’s first class was English Composition, and he made a point to introduce himself to the professor right before class. “Sam won’t be allowed back this semester, so if you don’t mind I’ll take notes for him and turn in his homework after he emails it to me.”

The professor was a little more savvy than Sam and she answered, “Have him email his homework directly to me.” That way the new “Samantha” couldn’t correct his mistakes and help him out. No big deal as far as Sam was concerned. He could certainly live with that arrangement. Sam found a seat in the back and remained a wall flower for the rest of the class. His afternoon Poli-Sci class proceeded just as smoothly. Maggie had done a superb job of setting everything up for Samantha.

Sam met Lisa for lunch again, and again she bought him a salad. Then he bounced off to the library between classes and at five he went to Lisa’s sorority house to pick her up. Unfortunately, he didn’t get another strip show, but he did meet some more of the girls, and he joined them for a spaghetti dinner. Those extra carbohydrates were much more satisfying than Lisa’s salads. The other girls were not aware of Samantha’s true gender, and she managed to fit in adequately. Sam was becoming one of the girls.

Wednesday was more of the same. Sam washed his hair in the shower, shook it dry and used the hair blower to take most of the moisture out of his hair. It was still damp when he left the apartment, which was fine. It continued drying during his walk to school, and it came out curlier than ever. Sam was very happy with his curly hair. It bounced, it blew in the wind, it felt silky smooth against his face and neck and it looked way too feminine for a boy, even if he was trying to be a girl. Can you say SEXY? Back in his room when he could drop his defenses, his hair continuously reminded him of his feminine persona. The hair extensions that Olivia had used must have been top quality, because they sure felt and looked real to Sam. Sam and Samantha both adored and loved their hair.

Sam donned the clothes that Lisa had picked out for him the previous evening. Lisa had something about crinkle skirts and knit tops, because once again that is what he wore to school. The knit top was a dusky green with a shirred bodice and ¾ sleeves. The skirt was Godet style, and a brighter blend of warm colors: pinks, reds and roses mixed with a little blue and green. This skirt wasn’t quite as long as the others, so a bit of ankle peaked out. For that reason, Lisa assigned a pair of 3 inch heels for Sam to wear.

After fixing his makeup and grabbing his book bag & purse, Sam once again set off for classes. It was another beautiful morning and he thoroughly enjoyed his walk to class. The sun was warm in his face, the wind was gently blowing and the birds were singing. He smiled at everyone, gave a few “hi’s” to the girls (he didn’t want to encourage the boys), although he did give the boys a bit more wiggle in the hips. Sam was becoming a bit of a tease.

He realized that he was passable as a girl, even a bit on the pretty side with his curly hair, nipped in waist and ample bosom. He felt that his training had given him the outward mannerisms of a girl — again passable if not sexy. And the fact that he was dressing up compared to all of the other girls, made him more attractive to the boys. His clothes were much more feminine than the jeans that many girls wore, and few other girls bothered with lipstick, let alone blush and foundation. So his complexion was nice and his blush and lipstick added a nice glow and color to his face.

Sam knew all of this and it was going to his head just a bit. He still realized that he was out of his element, and he knew that if he was discovered it might be very nasty, but it didn’t stop him. He liked what he was becoming, even if he could never admit it to someone else. And he enjoyed the way he was treated by others. He had quickly discovered that everyone likes a pretty, friendly girl. Pretty and friendly girls don’t get ignored like ordinary, under-sized boys. Pretty girls get smiles returned and doors opened for them. It was all very exciting and fun for him. Sam enjoyed being Samantha.

Wednesday classes went well, a few boys went out of their way to say hi and no problems arose. Lisa bought him a pear to go with his lunch salad, and Sam was forever hungry, but he wasn’t cheating on his diet. Lisa took Sam shopping in the evening, and bought him a few earrings since Thursday he could begin wearing hoops. And for dinner Lisa ordered skinless chicken breast and tomato soup without croutons. Lisa was paying so Sam accepted.

Then she took him bowling. That was a new experience for Sam, trying to bowl in a full length skirt. Many people stopped momentarily to watch Sam approach the lane with his ball, bend and roll it down the lane. He scored a whopping 79 in his first game and only 69 in the second. Down the lanes, Jill rolled a 250, 225 and 213, without taking an eye off the girls. When they reached Sam’s apartment, Lisa picked out his Thursday ensemble, something more interesting, then accepted a kiss at the front door and returned to her sorority and girl friends, while leaving Sam alone for yet another night.

Thursday was another laser day, so Sam was up earlier than usual. After running through his normal routine (sans makeup) he returned to his bedroom to dress. Hanging on a doorknob was the day’s outfit. Sam was joining the sorority girls in their “Splashy Thursday” tradition. The girls dressed up a little nicer on Thursday, before their “Casual Friday” dress. Sam was going to be looking extra nice which also meant extra noticeable. Lisa had assigned him a bright maroon knit top and a pleated, plaid skirt. The skirt was extra wide around the hem because of the full pleats and it only extended to 2 inches above the knee. This was going to be one of the shortest skirts Sam had ever worn.

Sam knew he was going to like the look, but he also knew that today he would have to be extra careful in how he handled himself. This extra-cute outfit would make him look like he was begging for attention from the opposite sex. And the opposite sex no longer meant female!

Sam powdered his lower torso and slid on his corset liner. Then he went through his normal routine of adding the corset, his bra and breast forms, panties (pink and lacy today). Before putting on his padded girdle, he pulled on black pantyhose — his first use of pantyhose ever. He finished with his day’s ensemble and 3 inch black platform shoes. Once again he thought he looked pretty good. And he didn’t even have any makeup!

Sam caught a small breakfast, checked his books and purse then went across the hall to get Jill. Jill drove him to the salon where he received his first compliment of the day (Jill’s didn’t count). At school he caught plenty of attention walking across campus, and he was even whistled at once. The wind was blowing and he enjoyed the affect on his curly hair, but he was scared to death that it would lift the hem of his skirt. In class he again sat in the last row, but today a boy sat down next to him. Sam knew the boy.

Bill had been his lab partner in chemistry last semester. Sam wasn’t sure how this was going to go, but he quickly rehearsed his story in his mind. “Hi,” Bill started. “Is this seat taken?” Sam shook his head no. Bill logged into his laptop and fussed around for a minute and then looked at Sam, “You look very familiar.” He paused to see what Sam would say.

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t know for sure. Have we met before?”

“I’m sure we haven’t.”

Bill returned to his computer and looked at a few items, including Sam’s hands. “You know, you have a scar on your hand just like my old chem. lab partner. In fact, you look a lot like him.”

Bill had figured it out. Time for damage control. “Was your lab partner Sam Springer?”

“Yes.”

“He’s my brother.”

“Really? I didn’t know he had a sister going to school here.”

“I just started … sort of. Sam has the mumps and is in quarantine. So to help him out, the dean is allowing me to audit his classes and take notes for him. I send them to him every night.”

“Really? Is he ok?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

“Where is he?”

“In quarantine, back home.”

“Do you have his cell number? Can I call him?”

“I don’t think I should be giving out his number without his permission. But you can e-mail him. He still has his school address.”

“Cool.” Bill paused for a few more moments then said, “You look just like him you know.”

“That’s because we’re twins.”

“Really! Even down to the scar on your hand? Interesting.” Bill was still very suspicious.

“I don’t know how Sam got his scar, but he gave me this scar when we were little and playing with darts.” The conversation was making Sam nervous.

“By the way, my name is Bill.”

Sam knew he was expected to reciprocate. “My name is Samantha.”

“Really? You’re both named Sam?”

“No,” Sam said sharply. “My name is Samantha.”

“It just seems odd that your mom would name you both so closely.”

“My dad’s name was Samuel. My parents decided that when I was born I would be named either Sam or Samantha. They weren’t expecting twins. So when they got a boy and a girl, they stayed with their original plan,” Sam tried to explain. He was getting in deep. This wasn’t going well.

The professor showed up and the lecture began. They paid attention for the most part, but once or twice Bill tried to restart the conversation. Sam wanted nothing to do with an extended conversation. Half way through the class, Bill pulled out his cell phone and typed in a text message. When he hit send, Sam’s phone rang. Bill looked at Sam and smiled. “I just sent a get well message to Sam. I forgot that I had his number.”

With the ringing phone in his purse, Sam knew he was busted. All types of nasty words flew through his mind. He tried to recover and pulled out his phone, “It’s from Sam. I think he is forwarding me his calls. He does that sometimes when he is sleeping.” Bill said nothing but continued to smile like a Cheshire cat.

Bill said nothing for the rest of the lecture while Sam continued to perspire. Sam wanted nothing more than to get out of there immediately, but he had to wait until the professor released them. As soon as the professor finished, Sam flew like an eagle trying to get his computer packed and rush to an exit. But before he could leave, Bill asked, “Would you be interested in getting together to study?”

Sam’s frenzy came to an abrupt halt. He just looked at Bill for a moment, and then remembered his “purpose” for being in class. “I’m not studying, I just take notes and send them to my brother.”

Bill had a different smile on his face now. It was a pleasant rather than a gloating look. “I know, but I’m studying, and I could use some help. If you don’t mind that is.”

Sam was stumped. He wasn’t sure what to say. He tried a different approach, “I stay off-campus, so it would be difficult to meet.”

Bill was fast with his response. “Then we could meet off-campus maybe?” He paused just a second and added, “I’d like to see you.” And he gave Sam an impassioned plea with his eyes.

Holy shit! He knew who Sam was and he wanted to see him? “WTF?” came to mind. Sam had to get out of there, “I’ll think about it.” He almost ran out of the lecture hall.

Jill had watched the episode and didn’t know what was transpiring. She caught up with Sam outside and slowed him down. Sam explained, “He was my lab partner last semester and he pretty much figured out who I am. I hope he doesn’t tell anyone. I was stuck, I couldn’t get away from him.”

“Next time something like that happens, tug on your earlobe and I’ll come help you.”

Sam’s perky attitude dimmed for the rest of the morning. He wanted to draw even less attention to himself. He told Lisa what happened when they met for lunch. He didn’t mention the request for a date. “OMG, I was actually asked out on a date! By a boy!” he thought. Weird, weird, weird!

Lisa didn’t seem too concerned about the episode. “Well, you’ll probably find out what he figured out next week in class. That is the next time you will see him, right?”

“I guess,” Sam answered with a worried voice.

Lisa dismissed his concern. For her it was no big deal. Her plan called for Sam to drop out of school next fall. This might actually help him accept that fate. Either way, it didn’t really worry her. “I’ll pick you up at your apartment at 6:30,” Lisa said. “We can get something to eat, and then go out with the girls.”

“Go out?”

“Thursday night some of my sorority sisters go out for a movie or whatever. It’ll be fun.”
She handed Sam an orange and skipped off to her next class. Sam just watched her walk away. He didn’t know what else to do, so he walked over to the library to do a bit of homework before his afternoon class. But he didn’t get much accomplished at the library. His mind was on something else. Someone else.

After class Sam returned to his apartment and relaxed. Lisa was sitting in her room watching Sam on her computer. She was looking for any tell-tale signs of trouble. She tried to play down Sam’s encounter with his old lab partner, but she had to know if it was going to affect him. She might have to offer Sam some bedroom therapy like what she had given him back home. But Sam seemed to be handling everything without getting too depressed. She was proud of her future concubine and hand maiden.

She and her roommate changed into tiny skirts and tight tops for the night. They were going to do a little trolling with Sam to give him some experience. Sam was caught by surprise when he saw how they were dressed. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“Pizza and chicken,” Lisa answered.

“Then dancing,” Constance added.

They both smiled as they watched Sam’s reaction. “Dancing?”

“It works off the day’s stress,” Constance explained. “Let’s get going, I’m starving.”

They walked over to the closest pizza parlor and wolfed down a large pizza with a side order of wings. Sam was still being starved by Lisa, so he was thankful for a real meal.

“Samantha, do you dance?” Constance asked. “They always have a band at the student union on Thursday nights.”

“Not really,” he answered timidly.

“Well we can teach you. It’s really easy. And the boys are totally fun to watch. They’re klutzes, but then you know boys …”

“Maybe they’re klutzes, but there are a few from Omega that you seem to hang around with a lot,” Lisa teased.

Constance turned to Sam, “Hunks they are! Not too bright, but they have money to spend. I can always pick up a date for Saturday night. Maybe you can get lucky too, Samantha.”

Sam turned pale. He wanted nothing to do with this plan, but he was stuck. Lisa was going and he would have to also. But why was Lisa going? She had a boyfriend. He was going to have to call her on this. “Lisa, don’t you have a boyfriend?”

She grinned at him. “Sure do. And a sweetie at that, too. I’m not looking for a date, just something to do before the big weekend.”

“Weekend? Something going on? What?” Constance asked.

“Skiing,” Lisa said with a big grin.

“No shit! Where?”

“Canada.”

“Lucky stiff! I wish I was going skiing. How ‘bout you Samantha?”

“I’m going skiing, too” he said.

“The two of you? Same place?” They nodded. “Must be nice to be rich,” Constance complained.

Lisa reached under the table and squeezed Sam’s hand. “It is,” she confessed.

“I’m getting depressed. Let’s go look for boys to kick around,” Constance grumped.

When they arrived at the student union they found a crowded table with girls from the sorority. Sorority sisters by rule had to sit together, but they even allowed Sam to join them. Sam already knew most of the girls and they welcomed him like one of their sisters. It wasn’t long before the band started playing and groups of girls would jump on the dance floor together.

Lisa pulled Sam out to the floor on the second song. He wasn’t a good dancer to begin with, and as a girl dancer he was even worse. He felt very self conscious and wanted to quit, but Lisa wouldn’t let him. “It’s the perfect place to learn and practice,” she yelled over the loud music. “It’s college, so no one cares.” Sam didn’t agree, but what was he to do? Lisa tried to help him with his rhythm and movement, and over the course of the night he did improve.

One thing Lisa didn’t do was force him to dance with the boys. When a group of girls went out on the floor, she would insist on Sam joining them. Other than the fact that he couldn’t dance as well as the other girls, he fit in adequately. He was dressed nicely in his short plaid skirt, and with his curly hair and more than adequate boobs, he was accepted by the others. Sam passed. Easily!

And as the evening wore on, he relaxed a little. Lisa protected him when the boys came looking for dance partners, and he certainly appreciated that. But eventually Lisa intended on letting him dance with the “opposite” sex. Maybe next time, maybe the time after that, but Sam would be allowed to enjoy the thrill of a boy hugging and groping him while they gyrated around in public. She smiled at the thought of Sam being held by a boy during a slow dance. But for this evening, Lisa allowed him to play the wallflower.

The party was going strong at 11:00, but Lisa knew they had a full day ahead of them tomorrow. She and Sam left the student union, and once outside they held hands on their walk back to his apartment. Not too many people were out, so they felt safe holding hands. Back in his apartment she told Sam what to pack for their trip. Then she laid out a denim skirt and pink blouse for his Friday “dress-down” clothes. She even pulled out a pair of pink and white sneakers for him to wear. After a lingering kiss she said goodnight.

The Samantha Project - Chapter 21 - 25

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Sam falls further into Lisa’s clutches and suffers the repercussions. New experiences and friends enhance his enjoyment and reduce his resistance to crossdressing.

Femdom, crossdressing, corseting, appliances attached, sex, illustrations.

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

CHAPTER 21

Sam finished his last morning class and rushed back to his apartment. He left on his denim skirt and added a powder blue cardigan sweater over his blouse. He didn’t need the warmth of the cardigan yet, but Lisa said the jet was relatively cool. He stuffed his toiletry bag into his carry-on, along with clean lingerie and his other clothes. There wasn’t much for him to pack, since Maggie was loading his skiing clothes on the jet. Harriet was a ski hound and she had all the clothing that Sam would ever need.

All that left was for Sam to plop into a chair and wait for Lisa. Jill would take the weekend off, so it would be Lisa, Sam and Gloria in the Canadian mountains. Sam was indeed excited about going skiing. The description of heli-skiing sounded awesome.

By 1:00 they were on the jet and taxiing down the runway. The pilot began his take off and they were in the sky in no time at all. The twin jets had enough power to almost stand the plane on its tail and take off vertical. There was no doubt that this jet was owned by one of the richest families in the world. The interior had oak trim, leather chairs that reclined into a comfortable sleeper, a bath with a shower and a kitchen with a refrigerator and microwave. The television had a blue-ray DVD, the sound system was crisp and powerful, and the sound proofing was amazing. When they decided to nap, the jets barely made a whisper. Sam leaned his heated chair back, wrapped an afghan over himself and closed his eyes. He could get used to this he thought, and with a smile on his face he fell asleep.

With an hour left on the flight, the pilot called back and woke the two of them. It was time to get Sam ready for skiing. Sam stripped down to his corset and panties, while Lisa applied glue to the back of his breast forms. When the glue was set, she pressed them against Sam’s skin and held them in place while Sam put on his brassiere. Then they opened one of the suitcases that Maggie had left onboard for them. It was full of warm clothes that used to belong to Harriet, but would now become Samantha’s. Lisa handed Sam a cap sleeve camisole and then a warm, wool turtleneck sweater. He put on some warm cotton socks and a pair of corduroy pants. Sam looked like a typical female skier.

Just for fun, Lisa brushed out Sam’s hair into a full-bodied style, reminiscent of his Tyra Banks hairdo. Sam applied his own makeup, not too much, added some diamond studs —for that understated look of elegance - and he was ready for his adventure. He pulled on some warm boots and dropped a warm coat on an empty seat. He settled into his seat and felt his glued-on breast forms tugging on his skin, as their weight settled into the cups of his underwire bra. It felt good to have attached boobs once again.

Lisa put on similar clothes and they fastened in for their landing. The jet taxied for just a short distance and came to a stop by a small terminal. It was more of a shed than a terminal, but it was all that was needed. Parked nearby was a helicopter with red and white blades and a skier painted on the side. Sam and Lisa went in the terminal while the co-pilot brought down their bags and stowed them on the helicopter. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was low on the western horizon. The sky was clear and the air was crisp; perfect skiing weather.

A middle-aged man approached Lisa and Sam and introduced himself as their pilot. They would be leaving as soon as their bags were stowed away. He led them out to the helicopter, helping Lisa into the back and Sam next to him in the front. He took the pilot’s right hand seat. The engine was fired up, and they were in the air in no time, gliding over an open field towards some snow covered mountains. As they approached the mountains, the pilot took the helicopter half way up the side and skirted along a cliff as they came around the western edge in time to see the sun go down in a glorious burst of crimson color. There was still enough light to see a logging road below them, as the pilot skimmed over a small valley and followed the road to their lodge.

It was Sam’s first time in a helicopter and the adrenaline was flowing. The pilot could have given them a straight-line, smooth and boring ride, but instead he made it a little exciting, as he skirted along cliffs and rocks and flew over the tops of trees. He banked around the mountains and made the flight through the valley an exhilarating experience. More than once he glanced over to Sam and gave him a smile as he banked the helicopter through its maneuvers. Sam couldn’t help himself as he returned the smile. He was enjoying the ride.

It took a minuscule 15 minutes to reach their lodge. The snow was whipped into a cyclone and flew across the pad as the helicopter settled down. They were a short walk from a lodge bathed in the crimson sunset and a few halogen spotlights. It was a harsh, yet subtly colored setting. The lodge was 3 stories tall and had a huge stone fireplace on one end. It was belching out smoke and the air was filled with the intoxicating smell of burning wood. A young man met them and introduced himself as Peter. He led the girls into the lodge and took them to their room. Another man carried in their luggage and dropped it off.

Peter gave them a tour of their luxurious room, and asked if they needed a few minutes to settle in. They agreed and he said he would be back in ten to take them to the observation room. Peter was leaving as Gloria entered the room and welcomed her friends. “Lisa, Samantha it’s great to see you. How was your flight?”

They exchanged pleasantries and stowed a few clothing items and toiletries, then Gloria dragged them off on a tour of the lodge. They visited the ski room, and Peter fitted them for skis and boots. Then Gloria showed them the exercise room, the pool, hot tub, masseuse, dining room and up to the bar. She ordered a drink for each of them. “This trip isn’t for sissies,” she exclaimed as she handed over their chocolate martinis. Sam smiled at the sissy comment as he enjoyed his first martini ever. There was a roaring fire going in the fireplace and they took a seat and watched the rest of the guests arrive at the bar. The skiing had finished about an hour earlier, and the skiers had finished their showers and post skiing routines and were arriving for happy hour.

Sam soon found out that all of the other guests were men. And they weren’t your ordinary college guys. These were all high-powered, rich business men with youth, vitality, good-looks and way too much energy. Most of them were European, with two from Chile and a couple of Canadians. There were no American men in the group. The Italians were too loud, the Germans drank too much, the Chileans were too macho and the Brits were too … stiff. The two Canadians were gay but they were the most affable. After every guy in the lodge had made his introduction to the girls, Sam and Lisa drifted towards the Canadians. Gloria was interested in one of the Italians, although for the life of him, Sam couldn’t see why. He was the most boisterous and biggest braggart of all.

The two Canadian men were from Montreal and were bankers. They were a couple, but they seemed to enjoy Lisa’s and Sam’s company. Sam felt safer around these two men than the others, and Lisa must have sensed that, because she also gave her attention to Rene and Ben. The four of them drank — as much as Sam drank which was very little — and ate together. Rene and Ben gave them a run down on the routine and bragged about the day’s skiing. They were finishing their week at the lodge and would be leaving on Sunday, along with Sam and Lisa. After comparing abilities, it was evident that the two men were far beyond the girl’s ability, but they volunteered to ski with them a few times in the morning to help them get acclimated.

The skiers would be split into groups by ability, and the better skiers were taken to impossibly difficult slopes. The lower level groups were taken to different locations, but by no means was this your typical ski resort skiing. Helicopters dropped the groups off on the top of the mountain, two guides took the group down the mountain to the waiting helicopter. Then they were flown to the next site of pristine powder and spectacular views. The skiing was fast and furious and only the most physically fit could keep up the routine for the full day. While some groups flew back for lunch, others skipped food and tried to set records for vertical feet and time on the slopes. There was no shortage of slopes since most of the skiing was above the tree line.

Sam and Lisa were still on Eastern time, so they didn’t last too late into the evening. Most of the male skiers were tired out and they retired about the same time, but there were a few gung-ho, hard-driving drunks who didn’t make it back to their rooms until after midnight. Sam and Lisa walked back to their room and had it all to themselves, as Gloria was still drinking with her new Italian friend. That gave them enough time to get prepared for bed and enjoy a few intimate moments. Sam wore an ankle length purple negligee that was deep cut and barely covered the top of his breast forms. He wore his corset and tucked his penis between his legs and pulled on a short girdle.

Lisa took advantage of his lust as she pushed Sam under the plush duvet and between her legs, where he enjoyed the musky aroma of Lisa’s nether region. Lisa kept him between her legs until they heard Gloria’s key in the door lock, then Sam quickly slid up next to Lisa before Gloria caught them. Mission accomplished for Lisa; she received two blissful orgasms and she didn’t have to do anything for Sam. He was left frustrated and horny with blue balls. His balls ached from lack of physical release, as did his trapped penis. And that of course was how Lisa wanted him — off balance and under her control.

The next morning was early by local time, but Sam and Lisa had a 3 hour advantage over everyone. Lisa pushed Sam out of bed and sent him to the bathroom first. It was still dark so there was no chance of Gloria seeing anything she shouldn’t. Sam ran through his morning routine, luxuriating in a warm tub full of emollients and skin softeners. He was enjoying the bath a little too much and Lisa had to use the toilet. She knocked on the door and then entered without waiting for a reply.

“Sorry, but I have to take a pee,” she apologized. When she was finished Sam was still in the tub. “Better get going before Gloria gets up,” she warned.

Sam exited the tub and used a plush towel to dry off. Before doing anything else he strode over to the toilet. “Are you going to pee, Samantha?” Lisa asked.

That question caught Sam off guard, but he regained his composure and asked, “Why?”

“Can I hold you?” she asked with a devilish grin.

“What?” he asked.

“I want to see what it is like to pee with a penis. Can I stand behind you and hold you while you go?”

Sam laughed, “Ok, I guess so.” Sam spread his feet and stood in front of the toilet, while Lisa tucked in behind him. She looked over his shoulder then reached around with her hand and grasped his flaccid penis. Only it wasn’t staying flaccid. Once she grabbed him he started hardening. “Point it down, so I can go. I’m starting to get a hard on.”

That was the wrong thing to say to Lisa. She grabbed him even tighter and held on until his penis grew to its full size. “Can you pee like this?” Lisa laughed.

“Hardly.”

“Then let’s see what else we can do.” Lisa remembered the last time she had given Sam a hand job, so she ran over to the pile of Sam’s clothes on the floor and picked up his panties. She returned to her position behind Sam, and reaching around him wrapped the panties around his penis. “How does that feel, Samantha girl?” she asked as she began stroking him.

“That’s nice,” he said as he leaned back against Lisa and enjoyed his newest predicament.

Lisa began slowly and used her right hand to stroke Sam’s organ, while she wrapped her left hand around his waist. She laid her head against the soft curly hair cascading down his back and closed her eyes while she caressed and fondled his pulsating penis. She imagined their positions reversed as she began feeling twinges of pleasure between her legs. She absentmindedly rubbed her thighs together in rhythm with her hand. Her pelvis began keeping time to her hand and it wasn’t long before her left hand released Sam’s waist and her fingers slid into her wet pussy.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked facetiously.

“Shhh,” she hissed as she continued her stroking and rocking. In a few minutes she brought herself to orgasm and she tightly gripped her quivering pussy as her body convulsed in pure sexual pleasure. She momentarily stopped her ministrations to Sam, while she enjoyed her moment of bliss.

Sam gave her that moment then asked, “Hey, you’re not finished here, are you?”

Lisa wrapped her left hand around Sam’s waist and smeared her pungent juices over Sam’s stomach. “Oh no my darling Samantha, just a momentary side track.” Then she renewed her fondling and squeezing of Sam’s pee-pee until he erupted into the panties. Sam stiffened and stood up on his toes as he ejaculated into his very own silk panties, then slowly began to relax as his convulsions began to subside. Lisa continued to slide his panties up and down his shaft, soaking the panties and his entire organ.

Lisa’s left hand still had her pussy juices on it, and her right hand had semen that leaked out around the panties. She stepped away from Sam and let him turn towards her. “Wow! That was great,” he said as he leaned forward for a kiss.

“My pleasure, Samantha darling. But you still owe me the opportunity to help you go pee.”

“Absolutely,” he agreed.

“You better wash those out or they’ll get stiff as a board in your dirty clothes bag,” she warned him.

They both washed their hands and finished their morning ablution. When he was finished, Sam opened his luggage and took out fresh lingerie and a sturdy spandex, full-length girdle. Lisa had told him that he wouldn’t be able to ski with his regular corset, so they had brought a very tight, elastic girdle. The girdle would never be able to replace a real corset for long-term waist cinching and molding, but for the next two days it would suffice. It was still heavily boned and very stiff, but it would allow enough flex for Sam to pick himself up when he wiped out skiing down a mountain. Sam pulled on his corset liner, and then his girdle. He quickly decided that he preferred the girdle over the corset. Too bad he didn’t get to make the decision on what he would wear. That was left to Lisa.

Sam finished dressing; putting on Gore-Tex undies, slacks with stirrups for his feet, and a wool turtleneck sweater. For makeup he used a bit of waterproof foundation to help his complexion, and a light lipstick to accentuate his puffy lips.

The two girls turned the bathroom over to Gloria, and they went off to breakfast, where they met up with Rene and Ben. Rene had taken a liking to Lisa and Ben seemed to prefer Sam, so that is how they sat at the table. Lisa allowed Sam to have a big breakfast and he wolfed down everything in sight. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but he just couldn’t help himself. When it came to food, Sam needed Lisa’s discipline.

But it was going to be a very active day for Sam, and those calories would be burned off in no time. Since they would be the only people skiing on the low difficulty slopes — at least until the guides had a chance to judge their skill level — they didn’t have to wait for anyone else to join them. True to their word, Rene and Ben went with them for the first half of the morning. The four of them went together to the snow room, where they dressed for the day. Sam wore a pair of silver bib overalls and a pretty pink coat with white piping and a fur lined hood. Lisa helped Sam pull a head band back over his head to hold his hair out of his face and keep his ears warm. He snapped on his boots and was ready for a day of fantastic skiing.

The guides had already taken everyone’s skis out to the helicopter and they were waiting for their skiers. With the sun barely up, the helicopter lifted off amid a cloud of snow, and climbed into a dark blue morning sky. A short five minutes later they were landing on top of a ridge. The four skiers climbed out and huddled next to the helicopter, while the guides took out their skis. While still huddled together on the snow, the helicopter lifted off and then the guides allowed them to stand up. Sam looked around and saw beautiful mountains covered in glistening snow, a slightly pink eastern horizon and deep blue skies above. The air was clean, crisp and cold. The first breath he took chilled him and he involuntarily shivered.

Ben saw him shiver and rubbed his back. “Don’t worry Samantha, you’ll be flying down this mountain in just a minute and the thrill alone will warm you up.” The 6 of them stepped into their skis and buckled up, adjusted their goggles and one by one followed the lead guide over the ridge and down the mountain. Lisa screamed as she went over the edge, not realizing how steep the slope actually was. Sam was a bit more prepared, but he too was surprised at the slope. The powder was loose and fluffy and it flew into the air as they screamed over the surface and banked around a large rock. They flew down the slope faster than Sam had ever gone on skis. Even the deep powder couldn’t slow them down as Sam almost hung on for dear life.

Back and forth across the face of the mountain the guide led them. The air was cold and it stung his face. He was thankful for the goggles and noticed they didn’t steam up in the slightest. His hood was off and he could feel his hair whipping through the air as he continued on what was almost a vertical drop. His eyes were fixed on Lisa ahead of him and he didn’t even think of moving off on his own. He kept his eyes locked on her backside and followed her where ever she went. If Lisa had gone over a cliff, Sam would have been right behind her.

Not only was it fast, but it was long. Sam’s skiing experience had been around the eastern part of the United States, and he had never seen anything like these mountains. Half way down his legs were beginning to tire and he wondered if he could make it all the way. But the guide gave him no time to think about it, as he continued headlong down the mountain.

Finally they reached the bottom, or at least a flat area, where the guide brought them to a stop. Lisa pulled up next to the guide and promptly fell on her butt in exhaustion. She sat there breathing heavily as she watched Sam fall forward, his hands in the snow and gulping in air. Ben and Rene cruised to a stop and began laughing at the girls. “That’s just a beginner slope. Awful short wasn’t it?” they kidded the girls. But they weren’t kidding. It was a short run and it wasn’t even close to as steep as the advanced slopes.

They had barely stopped and they could already hear the chopping of the helicopter as it was coming in to pick them up. The guides helped everyone with their skis, then they all huddled together as the helicopter landed next to them. The 4 guests climbed into the helicopter as the guides quickly loaded their skis.

Ben slid in next to Sam and the faux girl asked, “Don’t we get to rest?”

Ben laughed again and answered, “You’re resting now. You have about 5 minutes until we land again.”

“Is that really an easy run?” Sam asked.

“Trust me, that was the easiest run I’ve been on all week. Don’t worry, we’ll step up to the better ones later.”

“Oh my!”

They flew up to the top of the next run and repeated the process. When they reached the bottom of the run, Lisa and Sam were again sucking air while the men all relaxed and waited for the helicopter. When the helicopter was in sight, the skiers huddled together on the ground as the chopper landed beside them. When they climbed in they found Gloria waiting for them.

“How’s the skiing?” she asked.

“A little too easy,” Rene offered. “We’re going to head over to one of the other groups for the rest of the morning.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, “It’s just fine for us normal folk,” she said. The men laughed as the helicopter took off. At the top of the next run, just the guides and the girls exited the helicopter. The men flew off to more demanding skiing.

And so it proceeded for the rest of the morning. As noon approached, the guides asked the women if they wanted to return to the lodge for lunch, or if they wanted to keep skiing. The girls almost begged to return to the lodge. The guides smiled and gave the pilot his next destination.

After lunch they returned to the slopes. The girls were refreshed from their lunch, but it took a few runs before they were back in form. The skiing was a constant task as the only rest they received was while waiting for the helicopter to pick them up. And the wait for the helicopter was never more than 3 or 4 minutes. Legs and thighs burned with exhaustion as the 3 of them were pushed to their limit by the guides. What the girls didn’t realize was that each slope was just a little more demanding than the last. Slowly the guides were pushing the girls past their comfort level and into new territory. Not until the end of the day, when the girls realized how much more difficult the slopes had become, did they really appreciate their guides. The two guides had pushed the girls to levels they wouldn’t have dreamed possible at the start of the day. They were pleasantly pleased with their success.

But they were worn to a frazzle. While the men were skiing to dusk, the girls quit about an hour early. The helicopter picked them up and returned them to the lodge well ahead of the men folk. Gloria immediately headed to the hot tub, leaving the room to Lisa and Sam. Sam was grateful for the privacy. He undressed and headed for the shower, with Lisa right behind him.

As they stepped into the hot shower Lisa said, “I want to practice holding you while you pee.”

Sam just looked at her, not quite believing what she said. “Pee?”

“Yeah, boys pee in the shower don’t they?”

“No,” Sam protested.

“Yes you do,” Lisa laughed. “Turn around and let me hold you,” she said. With their backs to the shower water, Lisa reached around to the front of Sam and grasped his flaccid penis. Sam was physically exhausted from the day’s activities and wasn’t rejuvenated by the warm water yet. Hence he remained flaccid. Lisa shook his penis as if shaking the reins of a horse, “Pee!” she commanded.

It took a second for Sam’s muscles to relax and allow the flow of urine to begin. Lisa could feel the flow on the under side of his penis and she began aiming his penis. First she aimed at the floor of the shower, then she aimed higher on the wall. “Whee,” she exclaimed as she aimed him straight up and allowed his urine flow to look like a water fountain.

Sam couldn’t help but smile at her foolishness. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” as she sprayed his flow over his foot. It only took a few moments for Sam to run dry. She shook his penis and with a laugh demanded, “More! You can’t quit so soon, I’m having fun.”

“Sorry, but that’s all there is,” he apologized.

“Damn.” She shook his penis to drain out the last few drops. “I want to write my name in the snow,” she told him.

Sam laughed again as he turned around and hugged her, pressing his fake boobs against her real ones. Lisa gave him a kiss and then pushed him away to arm’s length. She looked at his faux boobs and took them in her hands, “I wish these were real, Samantha.”

“You do?” Sam asked a little startled. “Why do you think I should have real boobs?”

Lisa could tell Sam was a little concerned. He undoubtedly was worried that Lisa thought he might not be masculine enough. And that was fine, because sooner or later Sam would have to realize the true situation that he was being conditioned and trained towards. “Yes, I do think you would look great with real breasts,” she said softly. “You make a beautiful Samantha. You have a wonderful feminine quality to you when you are dressed as a girl, and I find that extremely erotic and desirable. I just love the idea of you being so pretty, and when I remove your dress and panties and I find that delicious little something else between your legs … god that is sexy!”

“Are you saying that I’m little?”

“No, you know what I mean, that special something that a real girl doesn’t have. Only pretty boys have what you have,” she said with a smile.

“I’m a pretty boy?” For Sam that had negative connotations, but somehow he knew he was just teasing with Lisa. Or at least he thought she was joking.

Lisa on the other hand wasn’t teasing. She meant it when she replied, “Yes, you’re a very pretty boy and that’s why I like you so much.”

“You just want me for my body,” Sam said.

“Of course Samantha dear, but I want the whole package as well. I want the pretty boy and the pretty girl both wrapped together in one pretty package. There is something about you being dressed as a girl that just drives me crazy. You are so sexy that I just want you all of the time.” She stepped back half a step and added, “But we can’t go crazy like a couple of minks. I really want to save myself for marriage. But …” and she gave him a sly smile.

Lisa looked down and could see Sam’s penis starting to stand up. “No,” she said as she gently slapped his growing penis. You did that this morning. How often do you have to do it?”

“Twice a day?”

“Gloria will be back any minute, and she can’t find us in the shower together. And she especially can’t find that lovely something special hanging between your legs. We have to get going here.” she told him as she grabbed the shampoo and began lathering Sam’s hair.

But the chance of Gloria coming back too early was exactly zero. She had her instructions to enjoy the masseuse, use the hot tub and even go to the cocktail lounge before returning to their room. Gloria was waiting on Lisa’s call before returning.

Lisa turned off the shower water, and the two of them dried off with the luxurious towels supplied by the lodge. Lisa demonstrated the proper way to wrap a towel around her wet hair, and a second towel around the top of her chest. “A girl must show some modesty,” she quipped, “even if her boobs are silicone.”

They quickly went through their post-shower routine and began dressing. Lisa pulled the strings taught on Sam’s corset, then handed him his bra, and a silky camisole. “This isn’t the place to be wearing a dress, so you should put on the beige slacks that we brought.” The slacks had a hidden front zipper, no pockets and fit tightly around his tummy and hips. The legs flared into a boot cut, and left plenty of room for his lined boots.

Sam added a shimmery, seashell blouse to his outfit, before he returned to the vanity to put on his makeup and pink lipstick. Lisa unwrapped his towel from his head and he shook his hair loose. “That will curl a little less than normal in this dry air,” Lisa mused. “Tell you what, dry it some more with the hair dryer then why don’t you brush it out like you had it for the party last week. I thought you looked especially pretty with your hair done that way.”

“Really?”

“Samantha, I’m just starting to appreciate all the different looks and moods and clothes you can wear. With your hair brushed out you look more elegant and mature. At least I think so. I wouldn’t mind seeing you with a different look every day of the week.” She gave him a nice smile. “How do you like your hair, Samantha?”

Sam had to think for a moment, “I guess I like the curls. It seems that they are more casual and carefree. I don’t have to worry as much about how my hair looks when it is in curls.”

“You should always be concerned about how you look, Samantha. The world judges you by your appearance. And you want to be convincing at all times. It’s safer that way.” Plus unsaid was Lisa’s desire to show off her sexy acquisition. She wanted a trophy catch to show to her friends and family.

“But also, I don’t think I can brush it out properly by myself.”

“I’ll show you,” Lisa volunteered.

When they had finished dressing, Lisa gave a surreptitious call to Gloria, then she walked her pretty girlfriend off to the lounge. With their shower, hair drying and makeup time, the girls weren’t that far ahead of the men. They were only half way through their chardonnay when Rene and Ben arrived. The men and women paired off, just for looks, with Ben giving most of his attention to Sam. The four of them chatted and sipped their drinks until dinner. They found a table for 6, and Gloria and her Italian friend joined them.

The dinner was large and Sam enjoyed being able to eat until he was full. He knew full well that Lisa would put him back on salads at college, but tonight he would enjoy his fill. As soon as dinner was over, Gloria and her friend left for some privacy. The four were left at the table with a bottle of shiraz.

As they were chatting about the day’s skiing and the men were bragging about their home town of Montreal, Ben finished the bottle of wine and absent-mindedly laid it on the table. Lisa reached for the bottle and spun it. It spun around once and came to a stop pointing at Sam. She smiled and said to the men, “Have you ever played spin the bottle?” And that was how Sam came to have his first kiss with a man.

Sam’s stomach jumped into his throat as soon as Lisa mentioned the game. He looked at her, pleading with his eyes for her to announce that it was only a joke. But Lisa avoided Sam’s eyes. What was he going to do? He was not gay, like Ben and Rene, and he had no wish to kiss a man. His stomach rolled over at the very thought of touching or kissing another man. For god’s sake he was a man! Yeah he might be wearing girl’s clothes but that was only a dodge to allow him to go skiing and stay in the same room as his girl friend. All this talk by Lisa about him being pretty, and her wanting him to dress like a girl was bedroom talk. It was foreplay and teasing. She didn’t mean it. She couldn’t mean it. He was a man, damn it!

He cleared his throat and tried to get Lisa’s attention again, but she ignored him and spun the bottle. It ended up pointing at Rene. Lisa half stood up and leaned across the table and gave Rene a short kiss. She quickly sat down and slid the bottle to Sam. Looking him in the eye with a queer smile on her face, she told him, “Your turn, Samantha.” She emphasized his female name, “Samantha.”

Shit! “I’m not that kind of girl,” Sam said.

The others laughed and Lisa said in a sweet voice, “We know,” and she pushed the bottle closer to Sam.

Shit, shit, shit! “Really,” he tried to emphasize.

Ben reached for the bottle and pulled it over to him. He spun it and it slowly … slowly … came to a stop. Sam gulped as the bottle pointed at him. Ben stood to lean towards Sam. Sam just sat in his chair, looking at the bottle. Lisa punched him lightly in the arm, “Don’t be rude,” she half whispered.

Gulp. Sam stood and leaned a millimeter closer to Ben. Ben closed the gulf between them and gave Sam a soft buss on the lips. Sam returned to his seating position. “Like it?” Lisa asked. Sam decided that it didn’t hurt. Ben’s lips were warm and kind of soft, although no where near Lisa’s luscious soft lips. But it didn’t hurt. Sam refused to answer Lisa’s taunt.

Rene spun the bottle next and it pointed at Ben. The two of them enjoyed an intimate kiss that made it clear to the girls that these two men were indeed gay. Lisa smiled and took the bottle once more. She spun the bottle and nudged it just the slightest to make sure that it stopped at Sam. “Samantha sweetie,” she said as she mimicked the men’s kiss with her girlfriend.

“Ooh la la,” Ben laughed.

Lisa again pushed the bottle to Sam. “Your turn Samantha.”

Reluctantly … very reluctantly … Sam spun the wine bottle. He spun it so hard that it almost slipped off the table, before it came to a stop just as it reached the table’s edge. It was pointing at Ben. “My lucky day,” Ben said as he quickly stood, pursed his lips, closed his eyes and leaned forward.

“What a crappy game,” Sam thought. He leaned into Ben for his kiss. As their lips touched, Ben raised his hand and gently touched Sam’s cheek, and softly ran his tongue across Sam’s lips. When Ben’s tongue touched Sam’s lips he glared at Ben, but didn’t pull away. Ben’s eyes were closed and so he didn’t respond to Sam’s glare. The kiss was only a bit longer than their first kiss, but it felt much longer to Sam. And … and … it felt sexual. “Oh shit,” was the only thought that entered his mind.

Ben ended their kiss and opened his eyes. He looked into Sam’s eyes and said, “Thank you.” He said it so softly and sincerely, that Sam’s stomach turned all mushy. Ben sat and continued looking at Sam. For some strange and stupid reason, Sam’s pulse skipped a beat .

Rene watched for only a moment, then slapped Ben on the arm. “You two timing hussy!” Everyone laughed and Ben’s spell over Sam was broken. That was the end of the game. Rene ordered another bottle and they sipped their way through it for the rest of the night as they chatted and laughed. By the end of the night they were all good friends and the men had invited the girls to come visit them in Montreal. Lisa threatened the boys that she might take them up on their offer. But their offer was sincere and true.

“We might take you up on that,” Lisa said as they ended the evening and headed back to their rooms. Gloria was still out with her new friend, so the girls were able to complete their evening routines without rushing to hide their relationship from Gloria. Once they were in bed, Lisa pushed Sam between her legs and urged him to please her with oral sex. It didn’t take much urging for Sam to take his position and do his duty, while Lisa continuously gave him instructions on how to best pleasure her.

When Lisa was sexually sated, Sam slid up next to her and summoned his courage. “Lisa, would you please consider going down on me?” he asked shyly.

Lisa didn’t want to make a habit of performing fellatio on her girly-boy, but she was curious. She did want to see what it would be like to take a penis in her mouth and suck on it; maybe ‘lick it and flick it’ like her sorority sisters had often joked about. For a moment she considered honoring Sam’s request, but then she decided to take a different approach.

“I’d like to do that Samantha, but I’ve ... kind of gotta … phobia about pubic hair. Just the thought of it really turns me off. I almost want to gag. You know what I mean?”

“Not really,” he answered. “I go down on you.”

“So?” she thought to herself. “That’s going to be one of your life-long jobs mon petite la femme”. But instead of vocalizing the facts of Sam’s future life, she said, “I know. And I’m sorry about that. Would you consider shaving yourself? If you shave and keep yourself nude, I know that I could do it. My phobia wouldn’t be there, and I’m sure that I could please you.” This was not a preplanned maneuver and Lisa was proud of herself for ad-libbing this brainstorm.

Sam was quiet for moment, thinking to himself. If that was what it was going to take to get a blow job, why not? “I can do that,” and he tossed back the duvet, intending to go shave.

Lisa stopped him, “Not tonight. We don’t have time. You don’t know when Gloria will return. Shave tomorrow morning, ok?”

Tomorrow morning meant no relief tonight. Sam was not happy, but he knew Lisa was right. He gave a long, sorrowful sigh. Lisa heard the sigh and almost smiled, but she had to throw him a crumb or two. “I’ll call the pilots in the morning and have them prep the jet for our flight back. I’ll make it up to you then, I promise.” She gave Sam a kiss and rolled over to face away from him. “Goodnight Samantha.”

CHAPTER 22

The next morning the two college kids got up before Gloria and began their morning rituals. Lisa allowed Sam to have first access to the bathroom. She waited until she heard the tub faucets stop running and knew Sam was soaking his soft skin and enjoying the warm, emollient filled water.

Lisa entered the bathroom and found Sam lying in the tub with his perky faux boobs peaking above the water. He was wearing his floral shower cap to protect his pretty curls. “Have you shaved your pubic hair yet?”

Sam was a little shy about discussing his shaving. It seemed as if Lisa wasn’t giving him any room for his own privacy, which of course was true. Lisa intended to run Sam’s life in every little aspect. And that especially meant his body and sexual identity. “I can’t shave in the tub. It’s too hard to stay lathered up without the bath water washing it away.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Lisa said. “I’ll wait.”

“What?”

“I want to watch. I’ve never seen anyone shave their penis before.”

“I’m not actually shaving my penis.”

“You know what I mean,” and she turned to the sink to wash her face while waiting for Sam. By the time she was finished, Sam was climbing out of the tub. He toweled himself off, wrapped the towel around his torso as he had been shown, then pulled off his shower cap and shook his curls free. At the sink he brushed his teeth and put on his fragrant anti-perspirant. Then it was time to shave.

He shaved his face first, although there was really no need. Then, with Lisa gleefully watching, he dropped his bath towel and filled his hand with shaving gel. He applied the gel to his scrotum and pubic hair around his crotch, and then reluctantly picked up his razor. With a sigh he took a stroke across the top of his hair patch. He left a long clean swath behind the razor. Lisa smiled as Sam rinsed his razor in the sink and stroked off another swath of pubic hair.

Sam was nervous but Lisa was enjoying the show. The clean, pink skin left behind reminded her of a girl’s smooth skin. Sam quickly finished off the abdominal area and turned his attention to his scrotum. He hesitated a moment and Lisa quickly asked him, “Aren’t you going to shave your sack too?”

“Do you want me too?”

“Of course, all of it. Please?”

He swallowed and while holding his sack taut to remove the wrinkles in his skin, he carefully pulled the razor across his testicles. Lisa’s smile grew even larger. How smooth and sexy he was looking! This was a very delicate area, and Sam couldn’t push down with the razor, so he missed several hairs on the first stroke. He tried to shave his entire sack, but when he finished there were many stray hairs remaining.

He looked at Lisa, hoping that would be adequate but Lisa scowled and asked, “You’re not going to stop there, are you? There are lots of icky stray hairs still left.”

Sam lathered up again and did a better, although not perfect job. Again he looked at Lisa for approval. “You left a few,” she began, “But Gloria is going to come looking for us in a minute. Rinse off and I’ll help you with your body lotion. When Sam was ready, Lisa massaged body lotion over his torso and down his front. She smoothed it onto his freshly shaved areas and oh so carefully she rubbed it into his sack. Of course his penis began to respond. Lisa smiled and looked at his half flaccid penis against his bare pink skin.

“You look almost edible,” she said, then flicked the head of his penis with her finger nail. “Down you beast, not yet! Later!”

Sam was able to have another bountiful breakfast. Lisa urged him to have several glasses of orange juice and milk. “I’m going to have to go to the bathroom before we leave,” he said on the way down to the snow room.

“No!” Lisa commanded. “I want to write my name in the snow today, so you have to have a full bladder,” she giggled. “Take another coke with you,” she ordered.

“Are you kidding?”

“No. I want you ready to burst, and then we’ll slip behind a rock on the slope and I get to … you know,” she laughed.

Sam shook his head and smiled. He had a strange girl friend, kinky even. Lisa might have appeared to be a little kinky, but what she was really after was full and complete control of her sexy epicene. She wanted to control how he dressed, what he thought, how he acted, where he went, what he did and, most importantly, she needed control of his sex life. His entire sexual identity was to be under her purview and approval. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, Samantha the girl was to be under Lisa’s control. Contributing to that plan, Lisa wanted total control of his body. Controlling his penis even in non-sexual situations was part of the Hawthorne plan. Sissy Sam was already tucking his penis between his legs on a 24/7 basis. Now if Lisa controlled when he took his penis out and urinated, what was there left for Sam’s own control and identity?

Lisa wasn’t kinky, she was conniving.

Gloria wasn’t ready to join them for their first run, so the two “girls” followed their two guides and lifted off in the first helicopter. On the flight to the first run, Lisa pushed Sam to finish his coke. As they landed Lisa asked, “Full yet?”

“I’m bloated,” he answered. “And my bladder is ready to explode.”

“Just a little longer. I want to make sure that I have a full load my little fountain pen!”

Sam skied down the slope while trying to cross his legs at the same time. His bladder was ready to burst. “Lisa, I can’t wait much longer!”

“The top of the next slope, I promise.”

It didn’t take long for the helicopter to retrieve the four skiers and hustle them off to the next slope. “Sorry,” Lisa apologized to the guides. “We should have went before we left. Must have had too much juice this morning. We’ll be right back,” and she took Sam’s hand and pulled him after her.

They didn’t have to walk far to get behind an outcropping and achieve their necessary privacy. “Ok, you can pull down your pants,” she said with a huge grin. She watched Sam painstakingly unbutton his outwear and work his way down to the buff. He finally pulled down his panties to expose himself. Lisa had to throw a little humiliation Sam’s way, “You’re awfully small, Tiny Sam,” and she began laughing. The lack of his bush made him appear even smaller than normal.

“It’s cold and everything shrinks in the cold.” He explained. “I’m bursting, let’s go.”

Sam turned around and Lisa snuggled up behind him. She took off her mittens and said, “I don’t think I could find that little thing with my mittens on,” and she laughed once more. She took hold of his cold-shrunken penis and shook it once. “Ok, go.” It took microseconds for Sam to release his muscles and begin a heavy stream. Lisa aimed him on the snow and steam began rising as she formed the first letter of her name. “This is cool,” she said. She formed the bottom half of an i and then squeezed Sam’s penis tightly and stopped the flow.

“What are you doing?” he squealed.

“Building pressure to dot the i,” she answered calmly.

“You’ve got tons of pressure, please let go,”

Lisa was pleased with herself as she released Sam’s pinched penis, dotted the i and continued writing her name. She quickly finished Lisa but only finished three letters in her last name before Sam ran out. “That’s it? That’s not enough. More!” she humorously demanded.

“Sorry, that’s all there is,” and he took over and shook the last few drops out.

“You’ll have to drink more next time.”

“I’d die if I drank more.”

“Then you’ll just have to toughen up.” They both laughed and returned to their skiing.

Gloria joined them on the next run and they skied until 11:00. “We have to return to the lodge and get ready to fly out,” Lisa told the guides. Gloria flew back to the lodge with them, and exchanged kisses before jumping back in the helicopter and going off to meet her Italian friend.

At the lodge, Sam and Lisa packed all of their clothing. By noon they were on another helicopter and flying back to the local airport. At the airport, their private pilots moved everything from the helicopter to the jet and then brought the kids onboard. Sam followed Lisa up the steps and stopped in his tracks when he reached the cabin. All but two of the seats had disappeared and a full size bed was sitting in the cabin.

“What’s this?” he asked in amazement.

“I called this morning and had the pilots switch it over for the ride back. We can catch up on our sleep on the way back.” She gave Sam a sexy smile and he immediately understood.

“What about the pilots?” he asked.

“They will not leave the cockpit without my permission, even if they have to use a chamber pot! Strap in so we can get going.”

Ten minutes later Lisa unbuckled and pulled out their suitcases. “Let’s go to bed,” she said. “Why don’t you strip down, take off your girdle and everything else, and see if you can find that sexy purple negligee. But if you would please, leave on your brassiere.”

“Why?”

“Just cuzz.”

Sam liked what he heard. He was more than happy to get out of his confining clothes and into a silky negligee, and his bra didn’t bother him in the least. In fact, he kind of liked the tight snugness of his bra, as opposed to the confining and irritating constriction of his corset (or girdle). He quickly finished pulling his negligee over his head and turned to his girl friend. His intentions were perfectly clear as his erection pushed out his flimsy sleepwear and left a sharp protrusion in his figure. There was a little wet spot where the tip of his penis pushed out his silky sleepwear.

“Sexy,” Lisa said as she wrapped her hand around the bulge and pulled him towards the bed. She handed him a tube of bright red lipstick. “Please put this on. I love seeing your pouty lips in red.”

Sam took the lipstick and a small compact mirror and put on his lipstick, just the way he had been taught; daintily and femininely. “Why do you want me to wear lipstick?” he asked. “Won’t it get smeared around and make a mess?” He was afraid he knew the answer, but he was hoping she would tell him something else. But she told him just what he didn’t want to hear.

“Because I love you when you look so pretty and feminine. Come.” They slid under the satin sheets and Lisa immediately took the initiative. She rolled on top of Sam and pushed her breasts against Sam’s brassiere and fake boobs as she began French kissing her girly-boy, sex kitten. After a few minutes she stopped and pushed herself up on her elbows and looked into Sam’s eyes. She brushed his hair away from his face and then caressed his curls as she continued to smile at him.

“What?” he asked.

Lisa continued to smile at Sam’s lovely visage. “You are so beautiful. Your curly hair, your thick eyelashes and those gorgeous red lips. God, you are sexy! Did you have a nice weekend?”

Sam returned Lisa’s smile, “Yeah. The skiing was awesome.”

With a little humor to her voice she asked, “Did you enjoy your first kiss with a boy?”

“No.”

Lisa’s smile grew even bigger. “So you say now,” she teased him. In a more serious tone she asked, “Do you enjoy being a girl? Is it ok with you?”

Sam thought for a moment. “It does bother me a little. It just doesn’t seem totally right.”

Lisa acted hurt. Her facial expression changed and her voice changed in tenor, “Really? I thought you were enjoying my company.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what I heard. When we get back are you going to quit on me?”

“No, no!” Sam objected. “I’m still going to dress as a girl. I have to because I still have the mumps, remember?”

Lisa acted even more hurt. “Is that the only reason you’re doing this? Don’t you enjoy being with me?”

Sam was getting confused. He was in lust, he had an aching erection and he was hoping for the first blow job of his life. His hormones were running wild, and Lisa was playing word games with him. What did he have to say to please her and get that blow job he was literally aching for? “Of course I enjoy being with you.”

“But you said you don’t like pretending to be a girl. You don’t like dressing like me?”

“Of course I do. It’s just … it’s just … different. That’s it. I’m not used to this. I am a guy after all.”

“I know,” Lisa said as she pressed her hips against his. “But you also make a beautiful girl,” and she twisted one of his curls in her finger. “And that’s what I like the most about you Sam … Samantha. I love going out in public with my pretty and cute girl friend. I like people to see me with you. You look so good that by association I look good. And ..” she paused. This was important that this next line came across just right. “And I am so turned on by you in girl mode. God! I get so wet just looking at you. I love looking at your eyes, your lips, your breasts, and that tight narrow waist. You are so fucking sexy!” She knew that naughty word would have a profound impression on him. “Kissing those lips and running my hands through your hair just sends shivers through me. I’m hetero Samantha, just like you.” (She also knew that word would be an important factor in his thinking, so she emphasized the word hetero.) “But I want Samantha in the worst way. Can’t you see that? Can’t you share that with me?”

“Oh shit! This is indeed getting complicated,” Sam thought. “I just want a blow job!” He knew he had to calm Lisa down and show her that he too thought the same way as she did. If he didn’t get on the same wave length as her, he was going to get nothing in the way of sex. Lisa wanted a sexy girly-boy, and if he wanted to stay with Lisa, to keep her, he was going to have to be what she wanted. Or at least pretend that he wanted to be feminine and sexy. “Why are girls so fucking complicated?” he asked himself.

“Of course I can,” he conceded. “It’s different, but I like this. I like being pretty and … and sexy … for you.”

“Do you really?” Lisa asked as she pressed her pussy against Sam’s penis. She was sending an intimate message to Sam, “See, isn’t that easy? Say and do what I want and you get sex,” her message said.

“Yes, yes. I have to admit that even though I wasn’t expecting it, I did like being out in public last week. I did like wearing a dress and lipstick and looking pretty. Once or twice I did kind of try to walk sexy and invite the boy’s looks. It’s kind of empowering.” “I get the message,” Sam was thinking. “I tell you what you want to hear and I get a blow job. I’m not totally stupid!”

Lisa took the offering and acted more excited. “It is, isn’t? It’s a rush when you can get a boy all turned on and drooling over you, isn’t it? There is nothing more exciting than being so sexy and feminine that people stop and stare at you. Don’t you agree?”

“Oh yeah. I did like it, I have to admit.”

“Me too,” and Lisa giggled and pressed herself against Sam. “Samantha, you are so sexy and feminine I could just squeeze you to death. And I mean that in more than just a sexual tone. You have this sophistication about you that just transcends your real sex, and your raw sex appeal. You’re an Audrey Hepburn as opposed to a Marilyn Monroe. You command respect and power and awe.” Lisa let that settle in for just a moment and then added, “And of course raw sexuality. I can’t exactly explain it, but you have it. You have me in your power,” and she giggled just the slightest as she petted his hair and gave him a quick kiss. “When I see you in that bright lipstick and your sexy, lacy bra, I just … I … I just want your body in the worst way.”

Damage done! She had made her point and had forced Sam — Samantha — to agree that he liked being a girl. Now it was time to reward her lovely boy. After plunging her tongue into Sam’s mouth, she lifted his diaphanous negligee, slowly slid down his body and reached his pulsating cock. It was interesting to Lisa that she now thought of that organ not as Sam’s penis but as his cock. She was going to suck him, and although smaller than she would have desired, he was still bigger than a girl’s clitoris. And it looked so cute without any pubic hair around it. It almost looked girlish; pink, soft and smooth with no harsh boyish hair around it. It was a pretty sight. But even though she wanted Sam feminized and emasculated, right now she was interested in this hard cock.

She stroked him once and forced a drop of pre-cum to leak out onto the tip of his cock. She carefully licked it and spread it around her mouth. Hmmmmm. Not much flavor, but a lovely texture. It spread across the roof of her mouth and felt interesting. She slowly stroked his cock once more and then licked his tip again. Sam flinched. Lisa grinned. She flicked her tongue over his tip again, and again received the same response. Interesting. “Is it that easy to control a cock and his boy?” she asked herself.

She sucked his cock into her mouth and slid her lips down his shaft. Sam tensed and tried to push his cock deeper into her mouth. As disgusting as Lisa expected this act to be, it didn’t bother her. She kind of liked it. She could manipulate her playtoy (or was that playboy?) so easily that she was surprised … and pleased. She slid her lips up and down his cock a few times and liked the feeling. She slid down as far as she could go and tried to open her throat and allow him in as far as possible. He didn’t go very far down her throat and she was a little disappointed. She had wanted to see if she could “deep throat” him, but he was too small. “He deserves to be a shemale with such a little cock,” Lisa thought to herself. “My little shemale!”

Lisa sucked her feminized boy and enjoyed her newest acquisition until she could tell that he was getting a little too close to orgasm. She wasn’t about to let him cum in her mouth. That just wasn’t acceptable. She was the domme, and he was the sub. She and she alone would determine how the poor little femme would be allowed to relieve himself. But on the other hand, Lisa was a little intrigued by the textures and flavors she had just experienced. Someday maybe, someday she would actually taste his cum, just once, to see what it was really like. She was a curious girl after all.

Lisa released Sam’s penis and picked up a condom. Smiling the entire time, she unwrapped the condom and slid it down his slippery cock. Sam lay on his back and forced a smile as Lisa rolled the condom down his aching cock. He wanted to cum in the worst way, but he also knew that you didn’t cum in a girl’s mouth unless she gave you permission. It was just good etiquette, and he had not been given permission. Damn it! But he was still going to get laid. He enjoyed the sensation of Lisa mounting him and then pushing his cock into her ultra-wet pussy. Lisa was as excited as he was, and that meant something.

Lisa took control and straddled Sam as she pressed her clit against his sheathed penis. She looked into Sam’s eyes and said, “You are so beautiful, my precious and sexy girlfriend. Promise me that you will be my soft and feminine lover forever?”

“Christ, I have to make promises just to get laid? Girls are so damned demanding,” he thought. “Of course my dear Lisa. I would love to be your lover.”

Lisa stopped dead in her tracks. She backed off Sam’s cock just a little and looked into his eyes again. “Not just my lover. I want you as my beautiful and feminine girl friend. Please?”

“Holy shit, doesn’t she ever quit?” “Yes of course,” he verbalized.

“Oh thank you Samantha. I really want your feminine seduction. It makes me complete. God you make me so fucking horny!” Once more she threw that four letter word at Sam, emphasizing how much she wanted him to be her girl. Her GIRL! Sam was to be Lisa’s Samantha for ever and ever!

Lisa slammed her pussy against Samantha’s crotch as she literally milked the semen out Sam’s cock. Over and over she slammed herself against her lover until he could no longer stand the pain/pleasure and he came in great gushing spasms. Lisa flattened herself against Samantha’s breasts as she dug her nails into his shoulders and screamed in pleasure. Her passion stunned Sam and he did his best to meet that passion as he repeatedly thrust his loins against Lisa’s pelvis. Lisa shifted all of her wait to her pelvis as she tried to milk all the pleasure she could from her lover. And at the same time she was trying to pin him under her weight, to help reinforce her power over him. She wanted Sam to understand that she controlled him, and not vice-versa.

Finally, mission accomplished, Lisa collapsed on top of her boy. Whew! What a marathon session. Emotional to say the least, but she had reinforced her will over the boy. He was beginning to accept her domination and her wishes. Yes, Lisa knew that Sam wasn’t totally sincere in some of the things that he had agreed to, but she also knew that total submission would take time. The more often he was forced to say he liked being feminized the sooner he would actually begin to believe it. He was beginning to understand; he ... would … become ... Lisa’s … submissive … and … obedient … courtesan. Samantha would belong to Lisa. And some day, her courtesan would wear a wedding ring and wedding dress and become her pretty and sexy concubine. Samantha would be a legally married concubine, but a concubine none-the-less. Hot damn!

Lisa licked Sam’s lips and enjoyed the taste of his bright red lipstick. “Next weekend I have to go home and get fitted for wedding dresses. Will you come back with me? I’d like you to model the dresses with me. You’ll get paid,” she said enthusiastically.

“What about you mother? She doesn’t know I’m pretending to be a girl so we could go skiing.”

“I hope you’re not just pretending, my little poppet. I hope you’re serious about becoming my mad and impetuous lover-boy. But as far as mom is concerned, don’t worry about her. I’ll have Maggie come up with an explanation for her. You don’t need to worry your pretty curls about any of that.”

“I always worry about your mother,” Sam said warily.

Lisa ignored his protest. “So what do you say? We’ll return Friday afternoon, go riding, get our hair done Saturday morning and then get fitted for wedding dresses. We have to go back the following weekend for the actual photo shoot. Is that ok?”

“Sure,” Sam answered. What else was he going to say or do? What was he going to do back in his apartment all alone on a weekend? In for an ounce, in for a pound. He was going to be doing whatever Lisa wanted, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Or want to do about it. He was caught in a lacy spider web and a female spider was wrapping him up tighter and tighter. He could live with that. He might even enjoy it. She was rich after all.

Lisa was sure Samantha would love his future life. He should have been born into this role, but since he wasn’t, that was now going to be corrected. Sweet, naive Samantha. Gorgeous, sexy and feminine Samantha. What a golden life he was going to live. Cinderella with a little something extra. That would be Sam’s new life.

And they both drifted off to sweet, dream-filled sleep.

When they landed back at school, Sam pulled out his cell phone and checked for messages. He had over twenty legitimate messages, and almost half were from Bill. School was about to get interesting.

CHAPTER 23

Lisa had Sam in a colorful panel skirt for his return to school. Jill took him to his laser appointment first thing on Monday morning, then delivered him to school for his first class. He was still a little sore and tired from his marathon skiing weekend, but he wouldn’t have missed it for a pair of million dollar earrings. He was back in his rigid corset and a tight fitting hip hugger girdle with his penis and testicles squeezed tightly and securely between his thighs. His hips were padded to make his figure more curvaceous, and his 3 inch heels made a firm and solid clunk as he walked along the concrete sidewalks. On top he was staying with his smaller B set of breast forms, but his boobs still bounced nicely as he walked up the steps to his first class of the week.

All in all, he felt comfortable and happy in his role as a new girl. He sat in the aisle seat of the last row. Jill sat three seats over and they filled the two in-between seats with their back packs. Bill would have a difficult time addressing Sam. But Bill was resourceful. He sat in the seat directly in front of Sam, and turned around to greet her.

“Good morning Samantha. Have a nice weekend?”

Sam was only able to say, “Yeah,” before Jill interrupted and asked Sam about some notes. She kept Sam busy digging through his back pack until the professor started his lecture. But Bill was not without resources. Only a few minutes into the lecture Sam felt his phone vibrate. He had a feeling he knew who it was from. He opened it up and read; “Can we talk after class?”

“About what?”

“Studying together?”

“I’m not taking this course only auditing.”

“But I’m taking this course Can u help me please?”

“We’ll talk.”

What he was going to say, he wasn’t sure. He had to be careful with Bill, since Bill no doubt had everything figured out. This could be tricky. As soon as the professor finished Bill turned around and asked, “Can we meet outside?” Sam nodded and then motioned to Jill to hold back.

Bill was waiting outside by the time Sam had packed up everything. “Hi Samantha. Have a nice weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“You must have been out of town because your phone was out of service.”

“I had it turned off.”

“I was hoping you might text back.”

“What do you want Bill?” Sam was getting just a bit nervous with the chit chat. Was Bill going to try and blackmail him?

“I was wondering if we might study together. Say after school in the library?”

“Why?” Sam asked harshly.

Bill kicked a little pebble off the sidewalk. “Because I think you’re pretty.” His cheeks started turning red and he wouldn’t look Sam in the eye. “I’d just like to talk with you, that’s all.” He finally looked up at Sam.

Bill’s lower lip was quivering and Sam could see that he was being sincere. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he felt that he still had to be careful. This was getting strange. “Uhmm, I’m not sure that I understand. I’m not sure that you understand.”

“Yes I do,” he quickly said. “And I would like to … just sit and talk … a little, maybe.”

Sam just looked at Bill, and Bill looked back. Neither said a word. Thoughts were running through Sam’s mind at a frantic pace. “This can’t be,” he thought. “There has to be another explanation. No way.” Bill continued looking at Sam. Sam wasn’t sure what to do, but the easiest thing was to capitulate, regroup, think this through and then figure out what to do later. In other words, he needed to buy time.

“Where do you want to meet?”

“One of the libraries. Anyone, it doesn’t matter.”

“When?”

“Whenever you’re free. I’ll make sure that I’m free then too.”

“Social Sciences at 2:00.”

“Great. That’s great. And by the way, I like your skirt, it’s really colorful!” Bill would have stood there babbling on and on if Sam hadn’t started walking away. Bill was obviously a little befuddled, whereas Sam was in shock.

Jill came walking up and asked if he was ok. “Yeah, no problem,” and he began walking to his next class. But his mind was racing a hundred miles per hour. “WTF?” he was thinking. “Was that what it really appeared to be? Is he asking me for a date? Because he isn’t interested in studying, that’s obvious. But he knows I’m a guy! At least I think he knows. He should have figured it out by now. So why does he want to see me? I’m not gay. He knows that. We were lab partners all semester. We talked about girls for Christ sake. He’s gotta know!

“Or maybe he doesn’t know. I don’t exactly look and dress the same. I never would have guessed that he was gay. Then again, maybe he never would have guessed that I’m gay, and look how I’m dressing now. Fucking eh! I’m not gay!”

The rest of the morning was a blur. He made it to lunch, and other than walking away with an apple and pear, he had no idea what he and Lisa had talked about. All he knew for sure was that hadn’t talked about Bill. Sam was way too embarrassed to talk about Bill. He was afraid that Bill was interested in him … in Samantha the girl. Sam was not GAY!

Sam couldn’t remember if they had set a location in the library, so he began wandering around, hoping he wouldn’t see Bill, but Bill saw him. “Hi Samantha. Gosh, I was scared to death you wouldn’t show, but look at you! Wow!”

“Bill, let’s go somewhere quiet.” Jill followed far behind as they headed off to the third floor and a deserted corner table. Sam threw his back pack on a chair and took out his purse. He was about to take out his compact and mirror and check his face and hair, but Bill was staring at him. Sam returned the mirror to his purse and turned his attention to Bill.

“So. What’s up?” Bill asked.

“I think you asked me here,” Sam retorted.

Bill giggled self consciously, “Yeah. I guess I did.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. His tongue was tied in one big knot.”

“And …?” Sam tried to urge him along.

“And … and I don’t know what to say.”

Sam was growing a little nervous and a little scared. He wasn’t sure what Bill was after. But if he was after blackmail or extortion — Sam had no idea what the difference between the two was — Sam was more than a little concerned. “Come on Bill, be honest with me, what do you want? Because you seem to have me at a disadvantage, and … and I don’t like feeling like this,” he confessed.

Bill acted surprised, even a bit shocked. It took a moment for Sam’s accusation to sink in. “Oh no Samantha, you’ve got it all wrong. Please, I just wanted to see you … to talk with you … and … because I think you’re pretty. You’re so attractive that I just can’t take my eyes off you.” Bill suddenly shut up, folded his hands and stared at the table. Neither of them said anything for several moments. Sam wasn’t exactly shocked, he had fantasized that this might be the case, but he was still startled to hear the truth.

“Bill,” and Sam stopped. He thought for a few moments and then admitted, “This is awkward.”

“I’m sorry,” Bill apologized. “That wasn’t my intention and I’m really sorry. Yeah, this is awkward isn’t it?” They both giggled lightly. “So … so I guess I should go first. God, this is tough. I don’t know how to talk to you.”

Sam reached across the table and touched Bill’s hand and gave him an encouraging look.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “This is awkward, so maybe I should start at the beginning. The day that I first saw you — you Samantha. I have to admit that I was stunned. I hadn’t seen you in any classes before and you caught me by surprise. I mean the first thing I thought is there goes one gorgeous chick. I mean it! And the second thought that went through my mind is she is way out of my league. But I couldn’t help myself and I just stared at you the entire lecture.

“And then, the more I looked at you the more I kept coming up with déjá vu. By the end of the class I was convinced that I had seen you somewhere before but I couldn’t figure out where. I left the lecture thinking that you must have been in a movie or video or something. It wasn’t until I got back to the dorm that night that it finally came to me. You looked just like Sam Springer.

“I mean when that thought hit me it was like a bolt of lightening. Sam never said he had a sister or anything, but I knew you two were one of a kind. So I gave Sam a call to ask him if he had a sister, but his phone was turned off and I just got his answering service. And he never returned my call. So I dropped the thought until our next class and I saw you again.

“Again, I spent the entire class staring at you. I’m sorry to sound so creepy, that isn’t what I’m like. You know,” and that’s where Bill stopped dead in his tracks. He looked into Sam’s eyes to see if he had committed a grand faux pas. But Sam said nothing. With just a little breath of relief Bill continued, “I mean, Sam knew that. Not you Samantha.”

Sam hadn’t picked up the reason for the pause, but now he understood. Bill really did have it figured out. Sam chose to say nothing and tried to look noncommittal.

“Sam and I talked a lot during our chemistry class. I liked Sam. He was a nice guy. But … but … shit! Excuse me a minute,” and Bill jumped out of his chair and tore off towards the bathroom.

“Christ! This is the weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Sam thought. “What the hell am I going to do? Tell Lisa? Man, is that the right move? She’ll think I’m a faggot, or worse yet, a faggot magnet. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Jill gave him a look of concern and motioned if he wanted her to come over. Sam waved her off. “Think, dumb shit. Remain cool and wait him out. Find out what this is all about. There must be some motive here, some end game. Wait him out.” Sam crossed his legs and began tapping his foot nervously.

Bill returned and sat down opposite Sam. There were the remnants of tears glistening in his eyes, and they were all red. Bill sighed and apologized, “I’m sorry. I had to … to toss some cookies.”

Sam just looked at him. “What the fuck is wrong with this guy?” Sam had to move forward. He was no good at these blackmail games, “Bill, let’s be honest. You’ve figured me out and now you have me at a disadvantage. What do you want? Because if its money I can get some but it’s going …”

“NO! NO! NO!” Bill said way too loudly. Jill stood up and began walking over to the boys. Sam lowered his hand below the table and waved her away.

“Ok, so what is it?” Sam demanded.

Without hesitation Bill blurted out, “I think I like you. I mean, I find you really pretty and attractive and that’s all. I just want to talk with you and … be with you … and maybe … maybe get to know you like … like … friends. No, I mean like boy and girl friend. That’s all. I don’t mean anything else. Please?”

“Bill,” Sam said with a sigh. “Bill come on, this isn’t real is it? You know what the real situation is. You figured it out, I confess. I was your lab partner last semester.”

“No you weren’t!” Bill said adamantly and again just a little too loud. He lowered his voice and continued, “You were not my lab partner, Samantha. Sam was. Not you!”

Sam leaned back in his chair with an exasperated look. Bill saw that he was about to lose Sam and he picked up immediately. “I liked Sam, as a guy. We got along great together. We talked about school and sports and girls. Girls! But here you are as one of them. I wasn’t being dishonest when I talked girls with Sam. I wasn’t being a hypocrite or anything. I like girls. I really like girls. Just … I like them a little a different than some guys. I adore girls. I watch the girls and I study them. I know their mannerisms and how they walk and how they talk. I know their fashions and their clothes and the way they move and throw their hair over their shoulder. I study their clothes to see if they have a panty line or bra straps showing. I wonder how they set and roll their hair and how they put on their makeup.”

Bill paused for a moment and just looked at Sam. “And then … I fantasize about how I would feel if I had tits and I wore a bra. I wish that I had long curly hair, and could wear lipstick and nail polish and walk around in high heels and wiggle my hips and live the life of a gorgeous and popular girl. A GIRL! I dream at night about how it would feel to be so damn sexy that I was actually popular and girls, yes girls, would ask me out and take me to movies and feel up my leg and caress my hair and kiss me.”

Bill stopped and waited for Sam to say something, but Sam was too stunned to talk. So Bill continued, “I’m hetero, just like when we talked back in chem. lab. But I’m also a little bit different. I fantasize about being the girl and being with the girl. I would love to be able to dress and look like a phenomenally beautiful girl. I would kill to live like a beautiful girl and go to the hair dressers and get a makeover and have boys stare at me as I ignore them and strut around with other beautiful girls. Samantha, I am a girl wannabe. A stupid transvestite.”

Bill stopped and wiped his eyes. They were redder than ever. He sniffed and looked at the table as he began again. “And then I saw you in class again and finally figured out who you really were. God was I jealous! You pulled it off. You said to hell with everyone else, you moved out and turned yourself into a female goddess. I would give both my balls and first offspring to be able to do what you did. I am such a frustrated chicken shit, and you are such a gorgeous butterfly.”

Again he paused to wipe his eyes and nose. “Samantha, all I want to do is be near you. I want some of your guts and beauty to somehow fall onto poor little me. I want some of your bravery and inspiration. I want to be your friend.”

Wow. Sam was stunned to say the least. Bill was a transvestite? Holy shit! He never would have guessed. But now, Bill was pouring out his guts to Sam, or was that Samantha? Sam didn’t know what to say or how to inspire Bill so his first comment was so pedestrian, “I have a girlfriend.”

“Then can I be your boyfriend?” The two of them just looked at each other, then they broke out laughing. They started giggling so loud that they had to try and cover their guffaws before the librarians busted them. Sam laughed so hard that he started coughing. The dam had burst. They both now understood each other. As Sam continued coughing Bill said, “Come on let’s go get something to drink. I’m buying.”

Bill and Samantha had a lot to talk about … and it was all about girl stuff!

CHAPTER 24

While Sam and Bill were in the library talking, Lisa was in her room on her cell phone with her mother. “How was your little vacation, honey?”

“Great mom, the snow was great and the skiing was excellent.”

“And what about your companion? Did he have an enjoyable time?”

“Of course. He kissed his first man!”

“Really? That’s rather advanced stuff.”

“It just happened by luck. There were two gay men there and we had a bottle of wine with them. When the bottle was empty we played spin the bottle. It wasn’t much of a kiss, but he did kiss a man twice.”

“And what else did you do with him?”

“Well Friday and Saturday night both times I put him between my legs.”

“You had him perform cunnilingus on you?”

“Yeah. He’s getting pretty good, too.”

“You did talk him through it both times, didn’t you? You know you have to make it perfectly clear at all times what you want him to do. And of course he has to get used to taking directions.”

“Yes mother, I know. He is getting pretty good.”

“What else did you do with him?”

“Well, I gave him a hand job Saturday morning. We were in the bathroom and I was going to hold him while he peed, but of course he got hard. So I used a pair of his panties to make him cum, then I made him clean the panties.”

“Good girl. That is a very important requirement. He must learn that there are responsibilities and repercussions for even token sex. Did he respond properly?”

“Of course. I know how to train my boys,” she giggled.

“Was that all? Was there anything else?”

“Since he got hard on me when he was peeing, I made up my mind to write my name in the snow.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t! That’s fantastic! Tell me all about it.”

“I just made sure that he drank lots of liquids for breakfast on Sunday morning, and I gave him an extra coke to take with him. He wanted to pee before we left, but I didn’t let him. Then I forced him down one run before I finally gave in. We walked behind some rocks and I had him drop his outer clothes and then his panties.”

Mona began laughing. “It was cold out right?”

“He was tiny! I had to laugh at him, I couldn’t help it. It was a Seinfeld moment. But then he let me hold him and start writing. When I got to the dotting the I part, I squeezed him off and made him wait to build up more pressure.”

“Oh my,” Mona laughed again. “I bet that pissed him off,” and they both laughed at her pun. “So how far did you get?”

“I made it through the letter w. I was a little disappointed, but it was my first time. Next time I’ll write faster.”

“Well, practice does make perfect. So what else? Did you do anything else with him?”

“Let’s see, we took a shower together in the evening, but we didn’t do anything. And on the plane ride back I joined the mile high club.”

“Lisa! Damn it! That’s too fast this early in his training. How many times does that make for the two of you?”

“For intercourse you mean?”

“Of course that’s what I mean. You know the rules. The first several months you should average only once per month, just to keep him from getting so frustrated that he wanders away and quits on you. And you should never take him more than twice a month. That’s 3 times in two weeks for you!”

“I know, I know. But you know the first time was an emergency. He was starting to loose it, and you admitted that we pushed him pretty hard that first week. And then of course I had to reward him after the party. That was totally agreed between you and grandmother.”

“Of course, I know that. But you didn’t have to take him again so soon. He wasn’t showing signs of breaking was he?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Then why?” Mona demanded.

“Because I wanted to,” Lisa shot back. “He’s my boy and I’ll train him the way I want to!”

Mona calmed down. “Ok, you’re right. But you know the rules were developed over many successful boys. Of course you can make exceptions, and of course you know you’re boy best, but please consider the consequences. You don’t want him too satisfied.”

“I know, I know.”

“Well then, I guess I should welcome you to the mile high club. Congratulations”

Lisa giggled, “Thanks mom. There is one other thing I did,” she said sheepishly.

Mona was just a little concerned and you could hear it in her voice, “What?”

“He wanted me to go down on him.”

“You didn’t! A blow job? No, no, no! That’s way too soon!”

“Wait, hold on just a second. It wasn’t a full blow job, and I used it to get a little consideration from him.”

“Like what?”

“I made him shave all of his pubic hair, even his balls. And I watched him as he did it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and I even made him shave his balls a second time, ‘cause the first time wasn’t good enough.”

“Well …” Mona was contemplating the ramifications of what she did. “But then you performed fellatio?”

“Not all the way. On the plane I did go down on him for a while, but I didn’t let him cum. I moved up on him and took him in intercourse.”

“You followed all of the rules for having intercourse didn’t you? You took the lead, you put him on the bottom, you controlled the speed and …”

“Yes mother, I took full control of the situation and I followed all of your rules. I used him for my pleasure, not the other way around.”

Mona thought for a moment and said, “You’re bringing him home next week for dress fitting, right?”

“Yes.”

“And the week after you both have to come back for the photo shoot right?’

“Yep.”

“Then you’ll be here both weekends. So, you have a great set up here to deny him any sex. You mustn’t give him anything the next two weekends. It’s imperative that he doesn’t think he’s getting sex whenever he feels like it. It’s whenever you feel like.”

“Mom, I know, I know, I know. And he doesn’t get it when he wants it. Twice this weekend he gave me oral sex and I gave him nothing. I put him to sleep with raging blue balls. I gave him nothing during our shower Saturday night. So it’s not like he gets whatever he wants. I control the situation and I deprive him often enough when he is totally set on self satisfaction. I do.”

Lisa’s voice became dreamy and far away as she continued, “But mom, you should have seen him. He is so beautiful. I made him keep his breast forms glued on and he had to wear a really lacy bra. And then he was wearing this gorgeous Victoria’s Secret full-length, purple, satin negligee. It’s to die for. And I made him put on bright red lustrous lipstick before we climbed into bed.

“Oh, you should have seen him mom. He has those gorgeous curls and they just fluffed up all around his head and filled his pillow like a halo. And his eyes are so deep and beautiful, and those lashes are so long and thick. And with his collagen injection, his lips are so full and plump and he has the world’s cutest cupid’s bow. Your loins just ache looking at this vision mom. No one can resist taking him. You would too if you had been there.”

“Hmmmm, maybe that’s something I should consider. Maybe I should bed this boy of yours just to see what he’s like.”

“Mom, that’s disgusting.”

“Well turn about is fair play, I’ll let you have Maggie.” She said it with just a hint of a giggle.

“Oh gross! Mom that is just so wrong! It’s incest! He is my father”

“Ok, ok, maybe that wouldn’t be the right trade. But Lisa, you need to remember that you are a Hawthorne woman. You can have anything you want and no one can stop you. The world is our oyster and that includes Maggie. Maggie is no longer your father. She donated sperm, but she presented no fatherly presence for your entire life. Just like Samantha will belong to you for whatever use you choose, so does Maggie belong to me. And if I want to give her to you for your pleasure, then so be it. Maggie will do what she is told and you can have her anytime you want.”

“But mom … my dad!”

“Lisa, I didn’t say you should do it, but I am telling you that if we wanted to do it, we could and we would. This is the Hawthorne matriarchy and we are the masters of our home. You are the domme in your relationship with Samantha and he is your sub. If you want to give him to me, he has no say in the matter. And the same goes for Maggie. Understand?”

“Of course mom. That’s why I love being a Hawthorne. But Maggie? Dad?”

“Ok knock it off! Perhaps it was the wrong example. Instead, how would you like your cousin’s concubine, Gisela?”

“Now he I would consider!” Both women laughed uproariously.

CHAPTER 25

Sam had returned from classes and finished his packing. Jill had already been dismissed for the weekend and Sam was waiting for Lisa and Maggie to arrive. He was wearing
a modest Pendleton cream and maroon plaid skirt which was double pleated in the front and the back. The skirt was a long 34” and hung to Sam’s ankles, just allowing his 2 inch heels to peak out underneath. On top he was wearing his large breast forms, but they weren’t glued on. Lisa thought they might want some latitude in breast size for some of the different dresses he would be having fitted. He finished his ensemble with a simple green knit sweater.

Shortly after noon, Lisa knocked on his apartment door and received a polite kiss when he answered. “Hi Lisa, hi Maggie. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you also Samantha. You look very nice.”

“Thank you. And Maggie, thanks for all of the help the last two weeks. You’ve made everything so much easier for me.”

“Samantha you are most welcome, and you are becoming a very pretty girl. But as a matter of etiquette, we mustn’t allow informality to become too common. Please address me as Miss Maggie.”

Sam was momentarily stunned. Lisa and Maggie each picked up a bag and began moving towards the door. Sam shook off the cobwebs and grabbed a bag full of his dirty clothes. “Lisa, are you sure that it is ok for me to be taking dirty laundry back to your house? I mean that seems kind of … tacky.”

“Not at all Samantha, that’s what domestic help is for.”

Sam locked the door behind him and they went out front to the limousine. Sam and Lisa climbed in the back and Maggie closed the door behind them. While Maggie was walking around and taking her place up front, Sam asked, “Lisa did I screw up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Calling Maggie by “Maggie” rather than “Miss Maggie”.”

“Don’t worry about it. She knows that you aren’t totally up to speed on etiquette. Maggie really likes you, and she won’t that think twice about it. She was just helping you.”

“I have to admit, I’m lost with your family, Lisa. You don’t call her Miss Maggie.” he complained

Lisa smiled and said to herself, “Of course I don’t call her Miss Maggie. I’m a true Hawthorne girl. She has to call me Miss Lisa. Even my father has to call me Miss and not the other way around,” and she smiled to herself.

“Samantha, let me help. Call every girl in the Hawthorne family Miss. Even if it’s not necessary, it never hurts to be polite. But … never call the help by Miss, unless you don’t know her name. If you know her name, use it without the Miss.”

Sam sighed. “This stuff is just way over my head.”

“No it’s not. You just haven’t been exposed to it since you were a little girl, like me. Don’t worry. Everyone really likes you, and they will help you and they won’t hold it against you.” Lisa said.

“At least not yet,” Lisa thought to herself.

When Maggie brought the car to a stop in front of the Hawthorne mansion, the kids waited for Maggie to open their door. Lisa jumped out and gave Maggie a hug. “Thanks Maggie.”

Sam was still a little bit nervous and he added, “Thank you Miss Maggie.”

“You are most welcome, Samantha. You two run along and I’ll deliver your bags.” Maggie looked at Lisa and said, “I know you are anxious to go riding.”

Lisa grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him along. “Yeah, I can’t wait,” and they ran up to the front door. Chas opened the door as they ran through and with a quick “Hi Chas” the kids ran up the stairs. “You’ll be using Harriet’s room,” and she led Sam into the room. Pointing to the bed she said, “Look there, Marie has already laid out your jodhpurs. Get changed and I’ll be right back for you,” and she ran off to her room.

When they reached the stable, Jennifer was standing out front with Abigail. She was already saddled and ready to ride. “That was fast,” Sam said.

“Maggie called when she turned off the interstate. Welcome home Samantha. You look very nice today.”

“Home?”

“Consider this your home away from home. Everyone has been looking forward to your return. Up you go now. Lisa and Cinnamon will be tearing out of the barn any minute now,” she said with a huge smile.

Mona had returned home early. She was excited to see Lisa and Samantha, so Chas had driven into D.C. and picked her up as soon as the kids had arrived. Mona also wanted to prepare herself for the day’s theatrics. Two acts had been planned.

Maggie was wearing her maid’s uniform when she the met the girls coming in the back door. “Miss Mona is waiting in her study. She would like to see you.” Sam assumed the “you” was Lisa. Wrong assumption.

“Lisa! How nice to have you home, dear,” and Mona hugged her daughter. “Hello Samantha,” she said with a cool tone, and she gave Sam her usual fake kisses. Mona turned her back to the girls and walked off to her desk. Over her shoulder she said, “Please come in, I would like to talk to you.”

Lisa allowed Sam to step in front of her as they walked into the center of the room. Lisa knew what was coming, but kept a straight face. Mona sat down in her plush leather executive chair, and that gave Sam the urge to find a chair also. “Please remain standing Samantha, you smell like a horse. Not that that is bad,” she smiled. “But I don’t want my chairs smelling like a stable.”

Sam felt uncomfortable. He didn’t like Miss Mona. He was afraid of her. They had been in the same room for barely a minute and already Mona had Sam back on his heels and feeling defensive.

Mona leaned back in her chair and appeared to be very relaxed. “I see that you decided to come back and help Lisa model our new line of wedding dresses. It never hurts to have a little extra cash, does it?”

“No it doesn’t, Miss Mona.”

“I know Eunice is happy to have you back, and so am I. You are looking very nice, and you are carrying yourself beautifully. You have made some nice progress with your female persona. I am very happy that you decided to remain en femme for the end of your college year. I hope you are also happy with your decision.”

“Yes I am, Miss Mona.”

“That’s good. You got a perm. I love curly hair, and I must say that your curly style looks wonderful on you. You were born to wear curls, Samantha.”

“Thank you Miss Mona.”

“You are very welcome, Samantha. And Maggie tells me that you had a collagen injection. The doctor did a beautiful job. You lips look very sexy and feminine, Samantha. I can see why Lisa can’t resist them.”

“Thank you, Miss Mona.”

“I am very happy for you, Samantha. I know that you are going to enjoy being a girl. Since you weren’t born as a girl, it is very important to continuously work at improving your image and demeanor. And it is obvious that you haven’t wasted the last two weeks. You’re improvement is subtle, but important.”

“Thank you very much, Miss Mona.” Sam realized that she was forcing him to agree to things that he wasn’t comfortable with. He was not a GIRL! But he wasn’t going to argue that … or any other point with this witch.

“Again, you are welcome Samantha. Now, what have you two been up to? What did you do last weekend, Samantha?”

“Nothing much. Just hung out.”

“Really? I heard that you and Lisa went skiing. Am I incorrect in that thought?”

“Holy shit!” Sam thought. “She knows! I thought Lisa said that Maggie had handled this?” What Sam did not realize is that Maggie had indeed handled it. Sam just didn’t understand the true nature of his situation — or predicament.

As much as he was initially tempted, Sam knew better than to lie to Mona. “Yes you are correct.”

“I thought so. Samantha, you used the corporate jet to fly to Canada. I know what goes on in my own company. And you shared a room with Gloria?”

It wasn’t a real question. It was a rhetorical statement and Sam knew it. “Yes ma’am.” Sam’s throat was getting dry and butterflies were rising in his stomach.

“There were two beds in the room?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you and Lisa shared one of them?”

Gulp. This was getting dangerous indeed. Sam’s self defense mechanisms were kicking in. He was long past nervous. Now he was moving into panic territory. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and Mona could see them. He was getting slightly light headed. Mona smiled menacingly.

“Mom …” Lisa tried to complain. It was her job to come to Sam’s defense. Mona’s eyes never left Sam’s as she quickly pointed a finger at Lisa. Lisa stopped immediately. “Please don’t interrupt us, daughter,” she said coldly. Without taking her eyes off Sam she repeated her question, “Did the two of you sleep together?”

“Oh fuck! Shoot me now before I vomit all over this million dollar rug,” he thought. With a dry swallow he nodded his head just a bit as he looked down at that million dollar rug.

“Yes ma’am we did.”

Mona shifted to a very menacing position in her chair and the look in her eyes could have frozen a polar bear in his tracks. “If you get my daughter pregnant ...”

“Mom!” Lisa screeched.

This time Mona turned her eyes to Lisa. Her look alone stopped Lisa. With a cold but perfectly controlled voice she said, “You are not trailer trash. You are a Hawthorne.”

“Are you saying ...?” Lisa began to demand something from Mona.

Mona easily cut her off with a short wave of her hand. She knew exactly what kind of accusation Lisa was throwing at her. With even measure, but no change in her voice or posture she answered, “No, I am not calling Samantha trailer trash. I want to be perfectly clear with both of you,” and she turned her attention back to Sam. “I like Samantha. I like Samantha very much and I am very pleased that you have found her, Lisa daughter.” Mona kept her eyes fixed on Sam. “But if you get my daughter pregnant, I will bring terror down upon you of biblical proportions. Do you believe me?”

Hell yes he believed her. “Yes ma’am I believe you.”

Mona relaxed and leaned back in her chair. A little smile spread on her face. “Good. Now that we have that out of the way,” she said in a much lighter tone, “I am very pleased to welcome you back to our home, Samantha. I hope you have an enjoyable stay.”

“Thank you Miss Mona.”

Mona stood in a message of dismissal. “Perhaps you two should change for cocktails and dinner.”

Sam was frozen in place. Lisa walked up behind him and touched his shoulder. “Come along,” she whispered. Sam was still so frightened he meekly said, “Thank you Miss Mona,” and turned to follow Lisa out of the room.

As they walked out the door, Maggie closed it behind them. Mona clapped her hands together and broke out in a big grin. “So? How did I do?” she asked Maggie.

Maggie chuckled. “Miss Mona that was definitely one of your better performances. You certainly lived up to your reputation.”

“And what reputation is that?” she asked laughing.

“Your reputation of being a witch.”

They both continued laughing and Mona said, “I’m sure you meant that with the letter B.”

“Yes ma’am, I did. I was trying to be polite”

Lisa helped Sam up to his bedroom. He collapsed on the bed and rolled on his stomach and covered his face. “I wish boys were allowed to cry.”

Lisa answered, “Girls are. Go ahead, you deserve a good cry.”

Half an hour later Maggie knocked on the bedroom door. “Lisa? Are you in there?”

Lisa opened the door and looked at Maggie. “Samantha isn’t doing well.”

“May I come in?”

Lisa opened the door wider and allowed Maggie to enter. Samantha was still lying on the bed where he had originally collapsed. Maggie sat on the bed next to Sam. Sam didn’t move. “Samantha? The last time you were here I think I told you something.”

A muffled, “What?”

“As much as I love that woman, she is a bitch.”

“No shit.”

“I’ll ignore your vulgarity this once. Samantha, let me explain what you heard and what you didn’t hear.”

“What?”

“Miss Mona, like any good mother, asked you not to get her daughter pregnant.”

“Oh yeah, I got that part.”

“What she did not say was stop seeing my daughter. In fact, she didn’t even say stop sleeping in the same bed as my daughter. All she said, and rather emphatically, was don’t get my daughter pregnant.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”

Sam rolled over to face Maggie. “What?”

“She said that she likes you. And if you know her like I do, she said that she likes you a lot. In her less than tactful way, all she really wants you to understand is this; be careful.”

Sam rolled over a little farther and looked at Maggie.

“Samantha, what you need to understand is that Miss Mona is a control freak. She is one of the most powerful people in the world. She has told off senators, prime ministers and she even got in a yelling argument with a United States President once.”

“Obama?”

“No, one of her own. The point is Miss Mona Hawthorne is known throughout the world of money and politics as one of the most powerful people in the world. But she is not known as one of the most tactful.”

“No kidding.” Samantha said again.

“No kidding. Miss Mona likes and respects you. If she didn’t, she would have castrated you, then fed you to the hogs. You would be dead meat already. Don’t you understand?” Maggie was finally getting Sam to pay some attention.

“I’m not really sure. Maggie, I’m sorry Miss Maggie, I don’t try to be wrong. I don’t try to be thick and stupid, but I’m lost here. I don’t belong here. I don’t even know how to address people correctly.” Sam wiped his eyes and sat up. A big sigh and he tried to put his thoughts together. “I’m a fish out of water. I’m a stupid boy dressing up and pretending to be a stupid girl! I’m a stupid low-class boy that doesn’t have a clue as to how to act in your culture. I’m trying to do what Lisa wants, but I feel like a complete and total idiot. How stupid can a guy be, when he tries to dress up like a girl for crying out loud?”

Sam paused to catch his breath. “I just want to make Lisa happy. I want to be with Lisa because I really like her. I’m doing the stupidest things imaginable because I’m trying to buy her acceptance. I’m trying to buy her approval.”

Maggie toned down her volume and emotional level. “Samantha, please listen to me. Lisa likes you, trust me. She understands your inner thoughts and emotions better than you do. Your week with us, when you tried to be a girl — for Lisa — you amazed everyone in this family. We all understood how much you liked Lisa. No one else in the world would have done what you did. Your sacrifice simply amazed us.

“And now you think you spent the last 2 weeks in your female role because you wanted to go skiing. But that isn’t the true reason, is it? You did it because you wanted to be with Lisa, and you saw this as a way to do that. Right?”

“Maybe,” Sam said as he was thinking through what Maggie was saying.

“Don’t under estimate our understanding of you. We know how well you are trying to fit in, and we love seeing what you are doing. Trust me, we love seeing you in female persona, because we understand why you are doing it. And we understand how hard you are trying. Miss Mona and Miss Grace and Miss Eunice see you for what you are doing. And we love you for that.

“And what may really surprise you, is we like you in dresses and curls. We love it, Samantha. And we are willing to put our considerable resources into helping you achieve your utmost potential. If that is what you want. And if that is not what you want, then that is fine also.” Not! “But understand this, we accept you as you are — right now.

“Even if you can’t admit it to yourself, we see you as the best life-mate that Lisa could ever hope to find. We … know … this … Samantha. And Miss Mona sees this also. And it is so important to her — your and Lisa’s success and happiness — that she has heavy-handedly tried to keep you from making a mistake. Like I said, Miss Mona has no tact, but she has your best welfare in mind.

“Samantha, do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Samantha fell backwards on the bed, totally exasperated. “Miss Maggie … what am I supposed to do? I am totally lost here and I need some serious help. I confess.”

“Don’t get Lisa pregnant.” Maggie was trying to lighten the mood.

Sam folded his hands and twisted them together. “I still feel lost.”

In spite of that answer, Maggie still felt like she was making a bit of progress. “Everyone at some time in their life feels lost. That is when you listen to your friends. And if you find yourself agreeing with them, then lean on them. They can help you through even the most difficult of times.

“I will not apologize any more for Miss Mona. Miss Mona is Miss Mona. But remember this Samantha, nobody here wants you to curl up and quit. We all want you here and that includes no one more than Lisa. Am I correct?”

That last question was aimed at Lisa. “With all my heart, Samantha. I want you by my side.”

“Cocktails are in twenty minutes, you better get moving,” Maggie said as she stood. As Maggie passed Lisa she whispered, “Make sure he wears his hose.” Maggie was calling off the second pre-planned lesson. She realized that Sam was in no condition for Miss Mona to tear into him again.

The Samantha Project - Chapter 26 - 30

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

Fiction

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Sam is further seduced by money, power and his love of elegant dressing as he goes from modeling wedding dresses to political power brokering.

Femdom, crossdressing, hair and hair salon, corseting, heels, appliances attached, sex, illustrations.

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson
CHAPTER 26

Samantha arrived for cocktails in a dark ensemble. He thought it fit his mood. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and a black and gray wool skirt. The skirt barely reached his knees and showed off his black hose and 3 inch pumps.

Sam’s fashion statement was not lost on Mona, who had been updated by Maggie. “That is a sharp outfit Samantha. But allow me to make a recommendation. Silver jewelry can make a black outfit absolutely stunning. Maggie, bring down my heirloom set of silver and turquoise.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Maggie’s kitchen maid served wine while Maggie went upstairs to the vault. When she returned she showed Sam a velvet box. She opened the box and held it while presenting the contents to Sam.

“These are very nice,” Sam said.

Mona actually laughed. “You have a very discerning eye, Samantha. Lisa, please help Samantha put them on.”

The collection included silver drop earrings, a silver pendant necklace with a turquoise stone, and two wide bracelets, also with inlaid turquoise. Sam’s dark fashion statement was now stunning. When the jewelry was all in place, Mona instructed Lisa to take Sam out to the entrance foyer, where a full length mirror was available.

When they returned, Mona asked, “What do you think?”

“They add an understated elegance without a pretentious glare that subtracts from the simple black and gray hues of a clean line that should and does focus the eye on a swirling skirt that opens up and emphasizes a stunning pair of legs. Those legs are one of my finest attributes.”

Mona was stunned and she slowly grinned as she looked at Sam. “My dear Samantha, you continue to surprise and please me with your exceptional depth and understanding of high couture and fashion.”

“Lisa told me what to say,” he said with his own grin.

“But you repeated it perfectly and convincingly. That is the first and most important lesson in becoming a lady of culture and refinement. Cheers to you,” and she offered a toast to Sam.

While Mona could be a cold hearted, straight to the throat bitch, she also knew how to woo people. Her people skills were remarkable, although she tended to rely on intimidation more than persuasion, simply because she usually had the clout to do so. But tonight she needed to pull Sam back into the fold. Mona turned on her charm.

She scooted into a comfortable position in her wing back chair, and crossed her legs. Looking at Sam she asked, “So Samantha, you have spent two weeks at school as a girl. How has it gone, what have you done with yourself?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders and kind of grunted. “It’s hard to describe Miss Mona.”

“Well then, start from the beginning. How does a typical day go?” That was an easier question for Sam. As he began to describe his day, his chest loosened a little and he began to relax a tiny amount. As he moved further into his account, Mona would interrupt with questions to pull out additional details. And most of those details concerned Sam’s emotions and frame of mind.

“What did you feel when you first stepped outside? Did you consider yourself passable? Did you consider yourself pretty? And when that boy opened the door for you, how did that make you feel? When you were walking down the street did you feel comfortable? How nervous were you?” And on it went. Mona chuckled appropriately at some of his anecdotes and clucked with concern at some of his tougher moments. Her face showed as much animation as he had seen at the party when she was wowing the powerful of Washington D.C. And now she was finally turning that charm on him.

The conversation filled the cocktail hour and moved into the dining room. “And what about the boys? Have any become bold enough to address you?”

“I’ve been trying to be careful about drawing too much attention.”

“But you have already told us that you enjoy, how did you say it, oh yes “to test your tease quotient”. You do enjoy being beautiful, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m still not too sure around boys. One day at the student union, I noticed one boy reverse his direction and turn back to me. I was afraid that he was going to talk to me, so I ran away. I walked outside as fast as I could.” His captivated audience chuckled politely.

“Have any caught you?”

Sam thought that was an odd question, and he didn’t know how to answer it. He decided that that he wouldn’t tell them about Bill. What they had discussed at the library — several times — was too personal to Bill and Sam for this discussion. “Not really. I’ve had a couple stop me long enough to ask a question, but nothing personal. Thankfully!”

Mona dropped that line of questioning and moved onto school, lessons and majors. At one point Sam mentioned that he was interested in poli-sci. “That reminds me,” Mona said. “Sorry to change the topic for just a second, but I heard that Senator May sent you some flowers. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Were they nice?”

“I thought so, but I don’t know much about flowers.”

“And did they come with an apology?”

“Yes.”

“How many times did he send you flowers?”

“Once.”

“Once?” Miss Mona’s tone betrayed her interest. “That’s all?”

Sam didn’t know if the change in tone was aimed at him or not, but he went with the flow, “Yes. Just once.”

“The man just doesn’t get it, does he? What kind of pathetic effort was that? Well that seals his fate. We were going to give him another chance.”

“Ma’am. Did I do something wrong?”

“Heavens no, Samantha,” and Mona’s cheerful tone returned. “Senator May did something wrong, that’s all.”

“What?”

“He didn’t put forth enough effort to apologize to you, Samantha. Because he thought you were only — “only” — Lisa’s roommate he thought he could blow you off with a minimum effort to atone for his sins.” She reached over and took Sam’s hand, “He has no idea how important you are. He made a huge mistake. And now he is about to find out how much it will cost him.”

Maggie gave Sam a sly grin. Sam shook his head to signify that he didn’t understand. Maggie made a hand motion that Sam didn’t understand. His eyes showed that he was still confused and that was when Miss Mona spoke, “Let’s just say that his reputation will be soiled to such an extent that he won’t even bother to run for re-election.” Mona gave Sam a very sinister smile.

The light finally hit him, “You’re going to out him.”

Mona thought for a moment — a moment of reflection — and said to Sam, “Samantha, don’t think of it in those terms. It sounds too negative and homophobic. We have no problem with homosexuality; at least not in our private lives. It makes a great divisive issue to stir up the troops on Election Day, but in this family we have no problem with private issues and decisions concerning sexual stereotypes. None.

“Merely consider this a matter of family respect. The Senator showed a lack of respect for our family. I will use whatever issue hurts him most to help him understand the error of his ways. Far and away his greatest fear is being found to be homosexual. He has chosen the weapon of his downfall, I will merely wield it.” Her smile towards Sam was almost frightening. It was abundantly obvious that Mona could be a vindictive and wicked woman.

“Ok, enough of unpleasant business. Samantha, you’re interested in poli-sci?” Mona returned the conversation back to Sam.

“Yes Miss Mona.” Sam had been scared back into full and proper respect for Miss Mona.

As they finished their meal, Mona probed Sam as to why he was interested in poli-sci. She wanted to know what drove him and what he thought he could do with a degree in the subject. Sam was a Yankee, and he didn’t have the slightest clues as to what might drive the most powerful woman in Washington. But if Sam could be feminized he could also be converted. And if that didn’t work, he could be brainwashed. And Mona really did like Sam. He was going to be a wonderful toy for Lisa.

“Do you know what the Hawthorne Family does for a living, Samantha?”

“Not really.”

“Well, we sell wedding dresses for one thing. We do a lot in the retail market; everything from women’s apparel to consumables to natural resources. And we collect objects of great worth and beauty.” For some reason she stopped and smiled at Maggie. “We even get involved a little in national security. We touch on education and penal institutions. We do a little bit of everything, Samantha. And we do it all very well.

“And we also get involved in politics. We support several lobbying groups and try to support those who believe in the same patriotic principals that we believe. We believe in the Constitution, we believe in the Bill of Rights and we believe in the same principals as our founding fathers.”

Mona leaned towards Samantha to emphasize her next point, “And we believe in freedom. We believe very strongly in individual freedoms, Samantha. I am sure that you have already figured out which end of the political spectrum I support. You’re a smart girl Samantha. So which end is it?”

All of a sudden a shiver ran down Sam’s spine. She was smiling nicely at him, but this was the most dangerous question in the world. He might be outed next. Sam knew the answer, but he wasn’t sure he should answer. This could literally kill his future if he wasn’t careful. He couldn’t pick a side, that was just playing with dynamite.

Sam gulped and tried to play it safe, “I always considered political choices to be a personal choice.”

Mona looked him in the eye and began smiling. “You have potential my pretty little politician. Are you afraid of guessing wrong?”

“No ma’am, I’m afraid of guessing correctly.”

And that was when Miss Mona Hawthorne decided that she was truly going to love her future son in law. She laughed loudly and heartily and honestly. Mona reached over and picked up Sam’s hand and brought it up to her lips. She kissed him on his palm and patted it gently.

“Samantha, you are a gem. Maggie, call in your girl, and have her bring dessert to the parlor. Come Samantha, lets you and me go talk.” The four of them moved into the next room.

After their glasses were filled with the finest sherry available and fancy bowls of raspberries and cream had been consumed, Mona returned her attention to Sam. Sam, for his part, thought he had finally broken a barrier with Mona. He thought he might finally make it to her affable side. But that had been accomplished the first time they had met. No, this was much more fun for Lisa and Mona. Samantha was about to walk into a much bigger spider web.

“Samantha, let us talk politics — of a sort. You don’t want to categorize me and my political views. Very smart of you. You see me as a Republican, or at least leaning that direction. Yes?”

Sam nodded.

“Not even a verbal answer? Very good. That is definitely my first inclination. But I do believe in certain other things. Do you know who the second biggest contributor to the ACLU is? They are anonymous in that they use 4 or 5 fronts and no one knows for sure who really controls them. But I can give you a hint.”

“You?”

“You are very perceptive, Samantha. Is that an organization that you would support?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“See, there is something that you and I agree on. And trust me, they are as political as any other group out there. But there are some other things that I am sure you and I disagree on. Would you agree on that?”

“Ma’am, I must admit that I am reluctant to answer questions concerning politics. There are many things about etiquette and the upper class that I don’t fully comprehend. And I apologize if my non-answer is … is incorrect. But please forgive me.”

Mona gave Sam a serious stare. “Ok Samantha, I respect your position. And I understand where you are coming from. And I will push you no further. Merely let me say, I know that someday you and I will agree on more than we disagree on.

“But let’s get to the interesting stuff. You are interested in politics and I am not only interested in politics, but I am involved in politics. I am politics. I have contacts at numerous organizations throughout the city. I can give you more experience in one summer than you could get in 4 years of college. Might that sound worth considering?”

“Yes ma’am. Maybe …”

“I’ll take you around and introduce you to a few people in town. You can sit in on a few meetings and discussions, we’ll go to dinner or a charity event and watch and listen. No real responsibility, but I’ll put you in a very visible position. I’ll let you see who is coming and who is going. I’ll give you the opportunity to see arrogance and hubris of the most extreme variety. Maybe sit in on a few meetings concerning charities of your choice. And after that we can decide what kind of hat you wear next. By the end of the summer, I promise you we will have you right where we want you.”

Lisa made a weird stifled noise and dropped her wine glass. Fortunately it was empty. But Lisa had the biggest smile on her face that she could possibly have managed. She looked like she had swallowed the proverbial canary and was now about to burst out laughing. Mona understood perfectly. “Lisa dear, do you have something to add?”

“No mother, you’ve said it all,” and she burst out laughing. Sam didn’t understand, but he wasn’t about to break the mood. He and Miss Mona were going to be friends. He thought.

By the end of summer he would indeed be right where Mona and Lisa wanted him. Samantha would be in petticoats, Mary Janes and hair ribbons, and relearning his adolescent years. Samantha’s hat would be closer to a bonnet than anything Sam had in mind.

Needless to say, Sam and Lisa had no conjugal visits that evening in the Hawthorne mansion.

CHAPTER 27

“Wake up sleepy head. We have a big day ahead of us. And don’t forget to pack everything, we’re staying at grandmothers’ tonight.”

“I remember.”

“And bring both your dresses.”

“I will.”

“And don’t forget to douche.”

“What?”

Lisa laughed. She was watching Sam on the monitor in her room. He was still in bed, half covered with his quilt and laying on his back as he spoke into the phone. She saw his eyes open just a little bit wider as he reacted to her instructions. “Marie left an enema bottle on your vanity. Did you see it?”

Sam straightened out the pink baby doll that he was wearing. He also tugged at his corset which had ridden up just a little during the night. “No. What is it?”

“It’s there just look for it, and make sure you use it. Read the directions.”

“An enema? What the heck for?”

“Its part of being a high paid, high fashion model. I’ll explain later. Just make sure you use it. I’ll come get you in 40 minutes. And don’t forget your sit ups.”

Sam dropped the old fashioned phone on its cradle and rolled out of bed.

At the kitchen table, Maggie placed a glass of orange juice next to Sam’s bottle of vitamins. He quickly gulped down half the juice and then looked at Maggie. He was expecting to be asked how he wanted his eggs cooked.

“No solids this morning, Samantha,” Lisa said. “Part of being a model. You want to be as slim as possible for your fitting today, so no food, just liquids. And that is also why you had to have an enema this morning.”

“Really? Models do this?”

“The good ones do, and you’re going to be a good one.”

Maggie stood, “Chas has your things in the limo, time to go.”

Sam felt comfortable walking into the beauty salon. He took a deep breath and inhaled the fragrant aromas of the salon. He still thought it was a strong, and slightly odd blend of odors, but he was becoming very fond of the salon’s numerous fragrances. He confidently walked over to the front desk where the beautiful Florence was waiting for him.

“Welcome back Samantha. It is good to see you again,” and she gave Sam a very large smile.

“Thank you Florence and it is good to see you again. Have you been well?”

“Oh yes, and thank you for asking. How is school?” The small talk continued for a few minutes, until two more girls arrived. Susan and Bridgette joined the trio of girls.

“Shall we?” Susan asked Sam. Sam took his purse off his shoulder and handed it Florence, “Would you please?”

“Certainly,” and Florence placed it behind the counter.

“We have a busy morning planned, Samantha. Would you like to use the ladies room before we begin?”

“I’d better, I had a weird morning.”

“Are you alright,” she asked in a concerned voice.

“I had to do an enema this morning,” he whispered.

“Oh, that’s SOP. Hurry along, I’ll be waiting for you.” As Sam began walking off, Susan called after him, “Coke?”

“Please.”

Sam took his seat, but Susan didn’t throw a cape over him. “Can I see your nails please?” Sam held out his hands. Susan took his hands and carefully looked at his nails. “I’m going to be your stylist and make-up artist for your shoot. Today I need to get an idea of what we can do next week. Your nails need a little touch up today, but that is all I am going to do. Next week I’ll give you extensions.

“The photographer wants your hair styled in an updo. Now that’s going to mean a little work for us. She wants to see some ideas today. Your hair is too curly for the styles we want to do, so we will have to straighten your hair.”

“You’re going to remove my curls? But I have a perm. I thought they were … well permanent.”

“It won’t affect your perm. I’ll set you on large rollers and when they unwind, they will leave you without tight curls. Your hair will be a little wavy though. But not to worry, the next time you wash your hair, your perm will take over and your curls will pop right back out.”

“That’s good. I kinda like the curls. And my hair is so easy to take care of as it is, even I can do it.”

“Not a problem, nothing will change for you. But your hair is too thick to set and dry before your fitting today. And we can’t put you under the hood, because you will frizz your hair. So I’ll set your hair, and you will have to wear your rollers during the fitting. By the time the fitting is done, you hair should be pretty much dry. At that point I can even help it along a bit if I need to.

“So, when you’re done with the seamstress, we will come back here and I’ll style your hair. The photographer will be here and we might play around a little to see what all we can do. When were done, you can leave your hair up for the evening if you want. I understand you have a dinner party tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess. Let me ask Lisa how I should leave my hair.”

“I already have,” Susan said. With a cute smile she said, “You’re going to have a very elegant style this evening.”

“I wish people would tell me what’s going on,” Sam said only half joking.

“Next week, things will be a little different. Can I see your legs?” Sam pulled up the hem of his skirt, and Susan ran her hand up and down his leg. “Next week will be three plus weeks since you had your legs waxed. Friday afternoon I will wax your legs and add extensions to your nails. Then I will set your hair. Unfortunately, you will have to spend the evening in curlers. You’ve slept in curlers before right?”

“Pin curls.”

“These will be a little different. A bit more bulky and a little more uncomfortable, but I’m sure you will be fine. So how does all of that sound? Shall we get started?”

“Let’s do it,”

Susan offered Samantha her hand, and helped him out of the chair. She took Sam to the washing station and wrapped Sam in a white cape, before helping him lay his head in the sink. Before washing his hair, Susan carefully inspected his extensions. “These look very good Samantha. Are you using a comb or a brush.?”

“Neither. Well almost never. I usually wash, wrap and then let my hair air dry. Only once have I styled it, and then I held each curl and brushed it out.”

“You’re doing good. Keep it up.” Susan then proceeded to wash and rinse his hair. When she was finished, she wrapped his hair in a large fluffy towel and helped him over to the styling chair. When she had him seated she started brushing out his hair and began a little conversation.

“I’m using very open rollers to dry your hair as fast as possible today. These don’t hold up very well if you sleep in them, they tend to slide off. Next Friday I will use wire/bristle rollers. They will hold better over night.”

“Ok.”

“You’re looking very pretty Samantha. I still remember the first time you came in here. Wow, no one would recognize you now!”

“Not exactly. One person recognized me,” he thought to himself. But for the most part Susan was right.

“Thanks,” he said. “It has been an … interesting couple of weeks,” he laughed softly.

“I didn’t get to see you at your party, but Florence said you were striking. She said you were the center of the party.”

“That’s not true. I do admit that I looked pretty, at least the prettiest this boy has ever looked.” and the two of them chuckled politely. “But the most beautiful girl at that party was Florence. No way can some boy, no matter how much professional help he gets, ever look as beautiful as her. She was simply stunning.”

Susan laughed out loud and had to stop wrapping curlers in Sam’s hair. “Well, she has been at this a little longer than you. Don’t worry, you’ll catch her. No doubt about that.”

Sam was confused as to Susan’s raucous laugh, but decided that he wouldn’t ask. “Did Florence tell you about our little excitement?”

“The senator you mean? Yes she did. He’s an ass. I should know. We all should know. Almost all of us have been with him.”

Sam was totally caught off guard, and that explains why he blurted out something so stupid. “You’re an escort too?” As soon as the question left his lips he knew he had committed a terrible indiscretion. He quickly apologized before Susan stomped off leaving him there. But Susan didn’t seem that concerned. She stepped back and looked at Sam. “I’m sorry,” he quickly said again. His face was turning red and he was feeling very bad.

“I keep forgetting how new you are here, Samantha. There is no need to apologize, we all know the situation and soon, you will too.” Sam was puzzled but said nothing as Susan returned to her work. A few moments later, in a very wistful, almost sad voice Susan said, “I really envy you Samantha.”

“Me? Why would such a pretty girl as you envy a boy that dresses up like a girl?”

Susan laughed softly in a very knowing manner. “Because Samantha, you have a Hawthorne, and the best one at that.”

“Lisa?”

Susan stopped adding rollers to Sam’s hair and looked at him. “Without a doubt Lisa is the most eligible girl in the family. And with her, you are set for life. You know how rich they are don’t you?”

“I’ve got a rough idea.”

“Anything you want you can have. You can buy a country if you want.” Susan returned to her task and added softly, “Every girl here would kill to be in your heels, darling.”

“What?” he thought. That was just too weird of a comment to even try and ask for clarification. Sam was left wondering if every girl in the salon was a lesbian. And then Sam came to his senses. Susan was talking metaphorically. The girls in the salon would love to have a sugar daddy, like Sam had. How stupid of him!

But he still hadn’t put two and two together.

Susan finished Sam’s hair and then took a close look at his lashes. “You have 3 or 4 lashes missing, It will only take a minute to replace them, then I’ll do your nails. How you doing? Need anything to drink?”

It took about twenty minutes for Susan to gather all her tools and lashes and pick out the correct length ones to use on Sam’s eyes. After the lashes were replaced, she rolled over her manicure cart and she removed Sam’s nail polish. “Any preferences on color?”

“Not really. Nothing green or blue,” Sam joked.

“What color are you wearing tonight?”

“Red.”

“Bright red? Dark red? Maroon or pink?”

“I’d say a darkish red. Certainly not maroon.”

“Ok then, I have just the color for you, my pretty girl.” The two of them shared a smile. For some reason, Sam didn’t mind being called either pretty or a girl when he was in this salon; which seemed appropriate to him.

Susan finished his nails and told him to relax. “Normally I would do your makeup, but we want to minimize your makeup for the fitting.”

“Why is that?”

“Because we’re just fitting and we don’t want to inadvertently smear some makeup on the dresses.”

“Oh. I never thought about that. It makes perfect sense.”

After allowing proper time for his nails to dry, they were ready for his fitting. Susan accompanied Sam, and Bridgette joined Lisa in their stroll up to the second floor studios. Eunice met the four of them and introduced everyone to the seamstresses, Alyne and Claudia, and the photographer Mary.

Once again Sam was impressed with the beauty of the three new girls. Alyne had a dark complexion and what appeared to be a mixture of Caucasian and black facial features. She was very slim, had wonderful curves around her hips — her waist was tiny — and like all of the other girls, almost perfect complexion. How did all of these girl’s do that, he wondered.

Claudia was Caribbean, with light skin and oriental looking eyes which made her look very exotic. She was one of the shortest girls Sam had met; no more than 5 foot two and less than one hundred pounds. But in spite of her small stature, her tits were oversized for her build. She had the most engaging smile and she talked non-stop. She was a bundle of energy.

Mary was the photographer, and she was probably the most averaging looking girl that Sam had met. Her height, weight, curves and legs were average compared to the other girls. But her face was anything but average. She had an exceptionally beautiful face. Her face was round with full cheeks and lips. Her deep blue eyes could look right through a person, and her light brows and hair seemed to make those eyes even more penetrating.

Mary said little and had few opinions except when a camera was in her hands. Then she knew exactly what she wanted. Mary contributed few comments as Alyne and Claudia worked. Mostly she watched and wrote little notes in a tiny spiral notebook. She was planning make up, hair and accessories for each dress.

The first dress that Sam tried featured a square neckline with one inch shoulder straps. It was of course sleeveless and had a high bodice. Sam had to remove his bra for the dress and they tried placing his breast forms in the dress’s cups, but that didn’t look right. Alyne was going to have Sam put his bra back on — it wouldn’t matter for the fitting — but Mary had another idea.

“Remove the breast forms and leave her flat chested.” Mary walked around Sam and inspected the silhouette and 45 ° angles for her camera shots. “I like it,” she announced. “Fit her without any shape on top. It will leave her with an androgynous shape and I think that will provide us with an exciting avant-garde aura for this dress. Pull her waist in very tight. I want the contrast of form between waist and bust to be accented. Yes, this will be really exciting.”

Susan unzipped Sam’s dress and prepared to tighten his corset. “I can’t tighten this anymore. It’s already pulled as tight as it will go,” she reported.

“Mark the dress for 2 inches, then order her a new corset for next week. Can you do that in time?”

“No problem,” Eunice said. “I’ll make sure it gets here.”

“Order two,” Lisa chimed in.

“And make sure it is a full length corset, covering the top of the hips. I want a gradual curve into the top of the hips.”

“In that case, get 4,” Lisa said. “Two full length and 2 for the waist only. And some new liners also.”

“How many?”

“Get a dozen,” Lisa decided.

After finishing with the first dress, Mary picked another high neckline dress. She had already decided to use Lisa’s more natural cleavage for the lower neckline designs, and Sam would handle the higher neckline dresses. She gave Sam a dress with a Bateau neckline which had a wide and high neckline that almost ran to the shoulder. The dress was sleeveless with 2 inch wide shoulder straps that were very plain with no frou-frou. The feature of the dress was a gold woven sash around the waist. “Pull the waist really tight,” she told Alyne. “This dress is too much of a sheath and it needs some help with the shape.”

“How big do you want her on top?”

Mary thought for a moment and looked at some of the other dresses. “Let’s give this collection a little theme. No size on top, keep her flat. This will be the androgynous collection.”

That was when Eunice spoke up, “Are you sure we want to make this collection androgynous? I don’t see that fitting the market we are penetrating here.”

“We definitely don’t use that word in our advertising,” Mary agreed. “Look at your market. These are not rich girls, and as such we view them — right or not — as not well endowed. But even more important, we are living in austere times. So we keep at least some of these dresses austere in appearance. You need a little spread in your market approach. You should have the small austere end, and then gradually move up to the big, loud, well endowed end. I think it works on several levels. Of course the price tracks the approach.”

Eunice wasn’t sure she agreed, but she gave Mary her approval. “We will see,” Eunice told her (or warned her).

Mary looked through her collection and decided to go one more step with the androgynous theme. She chose a scoop neckline dress for Sam’s third fitting. It had wide shoulder straps with a little bit of glam on them. The bodice had a bit of ruching and was bordered with a thin glam stitching around the waist.

“No boobs,” she told Alyne. However, we might want to consider just a little bit of a glue on push up to get some cleavage. We don’t want to look anorexic. Susan, can you do that?”

“Absolutely. The back is high enough, we can even do a belt with pushers. The dress isn’t tight, so it won’t show. And if that isn’t enough, we can do some contouring with blush. I’ll paint some cleavage on her,” she said with a giggle.

“We’re going to need some neck jewelry also. Without big boobs and cleavage, all of that skin looks to blank. What have we got, dear?”

Susan and Mary went through several items before they decided on a necklace with pink pearls. “You’ve got the earrings also?”

And so the fitting went. On the other end of the marketing range, Mary was using Lisa to promote the low cut, big cleavage, glamorous and costly dresses. The flagship of the collection was a lacy, low cut dress just dripping with lace. The huge skirt required multiple petticoats and was trimmed along the hem with fancy lace. To be honest, this dress didn’t belong in such a “pedestrian” collection of dresses. But it gave the stores window dressing and even advertising panache. Mary and Bridgette would push up Lisa to the absolute extent that her skin (and boobs) could stretch.

It was a fantastic and glamorous dress. Lisa liked it so much that she memorized it for future work. Samantha would look beautiful in it at her wedding.

Mary had a couple other nice dresses for Lisa. Mary picked out her “flamenco” dress for Lisa. It was strapless and sleeveless. The bosom had a bit of lace and frou-frou, but the feature of this dress was below the waist. The dress had a magnanimous helping of ruffles formed from the front to the rear and over a short train. It was a sexy and fun dress.

This was a dress that begged for a small waist, and Lisa was going to get a taste of the corseting that she was forcing on her boyfriend. Mary intended to squeeze Lisa down by 3 or 4 inches. Easier said than done. In fact, that was moving into the torture zone.

So the two models spent over three hours trying on a variety of dresses with a variety of looks and potential marketing niches. Mary and Eunice rejected as many dresses as they chose. All of the participants agreed, it was going to be an exciting collection.

Sam enjoyed the session. It was long and at times boring as Susan pinned and marked dresses while forcing Sam to stand in awkward positions for interminable amounts of time. But he enjoyed the dresses, especially the ones he considered the sexiest. That usually meant form fitting with big boobs and a tiny waist.

But what Sam also enjoyed was the cross talk and discussions about the dresses, where they might sell, who might buy them and all of the marketing strategy. There was more to selling dresses than he had ever imagined. It was a fun and educational session.

When Mary was finally satisfied, all of the girls returned to the salon. Both Sam and Lisa had their hair in rollers, and now it was time to decide how to style their hair for the photo shoot.

After a quick bathroom and refreshment break, both girls were in the styling chair and under the attention of their stylists, with Mary looking on. They both received a makeover before Mary was ready to style their hair. Make up was important to get a feeling of color, contours and shadows. Sam knew Susan and Bridgette were talented, but even while still in curlers, he thought they made both Lisa and him look especially pretty. Sam had developed an appreciation, if not actually a love for makeup. And it had only taken him a couple of weeks. Of course, he was more interested in how sexy Lisa looked as opposed to how he looked. He found Lisa to be an extremely sexy and desirable girl. Which of course explained why he liked her so much.

After their makeovers were complete, the stylists began removing curlers. Soft, curled hair fell down Sam’s neck and cheeks. The curls weren’t as tight as what he had been wearing, so these seemed softer and wispier. He enjoyed the feel of his curls softly brushing against his skin. The feel was electric and sent shivers up and down his arms and gave him goose bumps.

“How strange,” he thought. “I should be use to this by now,” but the truth was he was still enjoying and growing into his pleasurable new situation. “I’m not a girl!” he reminded himself. “But I do look pretty!” It was a difficult contradiction for him. But in time, he would not only accept his situation, but relish it. And deep down inside, for better or for worse, Sam was already accepting that.

Susan picked up his curls and wove and pinned them into intricate patterns. She eventually had a back swept front with large barrel curls pinned up in the rear. It wasn’t exactly what Mary was looking for, and next week would require a different style, but Mary did come to one decision. Nothing would work with Sam’s current hair color. “It won’t work,” she announced. “Samantha, your hair just doesn’t have enough depth. Nothing is going to work with your color. We will just have to change it. A redder and lighter color is going to be necessary; something in auburn. Susan, please get some auburn color swatches and let’s decide what color we need.”

Susan and Mary flipped through swatches for 15 minutes before they agreed on a color. Susan showed the color to Sam and asked, “Samantha, how would you like to have auburn colored hair?”

It was a very rich color and Sam thought it was pretty. “I can live with that. Will it be permanent?”

Before Susan could answer, Mary said, “Yes. We have to use permanent color to get the deep saturation that we need. Is that acceptable to you, because …”

“Yep,” Sam quickly said. He didn’t want to raise any problems and take a chance of loosing his gig. The money was important to him, but as much as he would never mention it, he wanted to dress up in wedding dresses and model them for the camera.

“Then were done for today. See you girls next week.”

Mary left and Sam studied his current hairstyle in the mirror. In Sam’s mind it was formal, pretty and feminine. He liked it. Well he would have liked it if he was a girl. But he wasn’t. “I guess your decision on a dress for tonight has been made for you,” Lisa said, interrupting his thoughts.

After their fitting, Sam and Lisa were going to Grace and Eunice’s mansion for a red dress dinner party, and then spend the evening there. The next day they would go riding on the “big farm”. Back home, when they were packing for this trip, neither was sure how she (or he) would look after this fitting session. They both knew there was the chance that they would have a makeover and new hair style, but it was difficult to guess in advance what the photographer would do during that fitting. So both had brought two red dresses; one informal and one more dressy.

“Yeah, I guess so. You too.”

“Think you will be alright without your bra?”

“Sure, we have plenty of glue.”

“And if you wear that dress you won’t be wearing your corset.”

“I’m looking forward to that part.”

“Then let’s get going. Miss Eunice, we’ll follow you to the limo.”

They picked up their purses and followed Eunice out to the elevator and down to the parking garage where Eunice’s chauffeur, George was now waiting. Maggie had transferred all of their clothing into Eunice’s limo when she had dropped off the girls, so they were set for their trip to the Big Farm.

They settled in the back and George began the drive out to the old homestead. “Could everyone make it tonight?” Lisa asked Eunice.

“Amazingly, for once everyone will be there.”

“How many are coming then?”

“It will be Aunt Michelle’s full family, including little Tamara. You two and us makes an even dozen.”

“Neat.”

Sam was in shock. He wasn’t expecting anyone else. In fact, he was positive that Lisa had promised him that it would just be the four of them. “Others will be there?” he asked.

“Yes. Miss Grace decided it would be nice to invite Michelle and her entire family too,” Eunice answered.

“Not just the four of us?”

“Nope, 12 of us. Is there a problem?” Eunice asked.

Sam was still too stunned to think straight. He leaned over to Lisa and whispered, “I can’t do this. You said no one else was coming.”

Lisa spoke loud enough for Eunice to hear, “Miss Grace thought it would be a great opportunity for me to begin introducing you to the family.”

“The family? But I can’t! Not tonight!”

“Why not?”

“Look at me,” he said in a continued whisper. “I’m dressed as a girl. They can’t meet me like this”

“Why not?”

“Because … because I’m not a girl. I’m a boy! They’ll think I’m gay or some kind of a weirdo.”

“No they won’t. Think for a second, if you were gay you wouldn’t be dating me, and I certainly wouldn’t be dating you. They know better than that.”

“Then they’ll just assume I’m a tranny or transsexual or something. I’ll look ridiculous to them. They’ll laugh at me. What are they going to think of me? I’m a sissy?”

“Sweetie, don’t worry. They already know all about you. I’m sure Gloria already gave them all of the stories from the dinner party and the ski trip.”

“The ski trip? They know I dressed as a girl to go skiing?”

“I’m sure they do. If mom knows, that means Gloria spilled the beans. And they won’t think you dressed up as a girl just to go skiing. They’ll think the same thing as mom.”

“That I faked being a girl so I could go to bed with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh that’s just great. I’m a tranny and a cad. I’ll be lucky if the guys don’t take me out back and beat the ever loving crap out of me.” Sam was beginning to blubber just a little.

“Samantha, relax. Take a deep breath and listen. It’s ok. Everyone knows about you and me and they want to meet the guy … the BOY … that I’m dating. They have heard some wonderful things about you. They know how much you sacrificed to go to that party with me. They already know what a special and wonderful fellow you are.

“As far as us spending the night together, we are an enlightened family. Mom just wants us to be careful, that’s all. And don’t worry about the guys taking you out back and beating you up, everyone there will be wearing a red dress, just like you.”

“There aren’t any men coming?”

“Everyone will be wearing a red dress, just like you,” she repeated. Of course there would be men there. Sam still didn’t understand the situation in the Hawthorne family and matriarchy. Clues would be put right in front of him, like Maggie and Eunice, and he would continue to miss them. Sam continued to think in the same old paradigms about boys and girls, men and women, husbands and wives. The idea that things could be different from what he knew had never crawled into his brain. But he would get there, sooner or later.

Sam thought a few more minutes. “And everyone in your family wants to see me dressed as a girl? Isn’t that odd?”

“Not at all, Samantha. They’ve all heard what a beautiful girl you make. They want to see for themselves. All the girls are curious to see what a pretty girl you can be. Trust me, they really want to see the beautiful Samantha. And they are not going to be disappointed. With your new hairstyle and makeover, and with that awesome dress of yours, they will be amazed at how pretty you can be. Amazed!

“Now relax and stop worrying. I can’t wait to get there and show off my trophy boyfriend to my family. They are going to love you, Samantha. Love you!”

Sam still wasn’t convinced, and it showed on his face. It looked like he was going to pout … or maybe worse, vomit.

“Samantha, perhaps I can help explain a bit further,” Eunice offered. “These red dress affaires are a tradition in our family. There is only one very strict rule, you must wear a red dress with appropriate accessories. Miss Grace has only once made an exception. One of her granddaughters was 8 months pregnant at one of these parties, so Miss Grace magnanimously allowed her to wear a two piece dress with heels less than 2 inches in height.

“Because of the red dress rule, there will be no husbands or boy friends there, with one notable exception of course,” and she motioned towards Sam. “So the girls are allowed to invite a partner to join them. Their partners can be referred to by several titles; hand maiden, concubine or if the girl is unmarried, courtesan.

“And as far as you wearing a red dress for the others to see, you have already achieved legendary status in the family. Grandmothers will be telling their granddaughters the Samantha story for generations to come. It is almost a fable on par with Cinderella.”

“What?”

In a narrative tone of voice, Eunice began, “The beautiful boy Sam, in order to prove his love and devotion to his betrothed Lisa, agrees to spend weeks training to be a girl and save the family from economic ruin. That’s the romantic part. He does this at the behest of the family matriarch Miss Grace, who must beg for this immense favor — and that’s the compelling part. Sam agrees to become Samantha so that the family can preserve a crucial and important contract that will insure the family’s economic survival. Samantha dedicates herself to this endeavor, working day and night to transform herself into a beautiful debutante. At the dinner party the neophyte girl successfully demonstrates her total and complete transformation into a Hawthorne girl, by slapping away the crude advances of a sinister senator, thus preserving the dignity and integrity of the family name. And she saves us from economic ruin.

“It is such a compelling story, that some poetic license has already begun creeping into the story. You’re a heroine, Samantha,” Eunice said with a big grin. “And the girls all want to meet our heroine. So, you can see that it is necessary that you be that beautiful and charming Samantha tonight.”

“Oh,” was all that Sam could utter.

“I’m a legend?” he thought to himself. “The entire family knows about me dressing as a girl and that’s why they now want to meet me? This can’t possibly get any more bizarre. This is like something out of the Twilight Zone.”

Once they arrived, they were shown to their separate boudoirs for changing, even before Miss Grace greeted them. She wanted to wait until they were dressed. Lisa went to Sam’s room and helped him correctly place and glue on his larger breast forms, before she finished dressing in her room. She returned to Sam’s room to help him finish, but all that was left to apply was his perfume. Sam was already wearing his evening gown.

“Holy cow!” Lisa uttered. “What a dress! With your hair and make up, you look … you just LOOK, girl! Wow!”

“Do you like it?” Sam asked innocently.

Lisa gave him a careful hug. “Remember that trophy boy I wanted to show off? You make him look like a tramp,” and she gave him a lipless kiss on his cheek, being careful not to leave any lipstick.

Sam was wearing a truly stunning dress. The feature of the dress was a low back with butterfly draping and a low sash hanging to the back of his knees. The top was ruched with a high neckline and straps that wrapped over the shoulder before flowing into loose draping down either side of the bare back. The dress had a built in cummerbund with a strong internal strap that could be pulled tight in the back, below the open back. The waist could be pulled in tight for a flattering figure with this belt, and it was hidden by the flowing sash.

Lisa stepped behind Sam and tightened his cummerbund belt. “See, I told you you would need those 4 inch heels. Look how you’re dragging on the ground without them.”

“Can’t have that,” Sam said. “You paid way too much money for me to ruin this dress.”

“I would have paid ten times as much to see you wear this dress to a party. So how do you feel in it? Are you nervous without a brassiere?”

“Not really. The top of this dress holds you tighter than I remember at the fitting. And can I tell you a secret?” he whispered. Lisa nodded her head and leaned in close to Sam, “I like not wearing my corset.”

Lisa smiled and stroked her courtesan up and down on his bare arm. “Don’t get too used to it. You know you have to wear that corset full time. And by the way, I was surprised to hear Susan say you needed a tighter one. That’s great. It means you’ve lost a few inches. Have you lost any weight?”

“Yup.”

“How much?”

Sam looked aghast. “There are some things that a girl must not share … with anyone,” he said with mock seriousness.

“You amaze me, Samantha. Come, let’s go present you to Miss Grace. I think she will be most pleased.”

Hand in hand, Lisa and Sam walked downstairs, looking for Miss Grace. They found her in the sitting parlor. “Lisa, welcome,” Miss Grace said enthusiastically as she exchanged air kisses with Lisa. “You will be happy to hear that Jennifer has already arrived with your horses. You are all set for riding tomorrow.” Lisa gave her grandmother a big smile.

Then Miss Grace turned her attention to Sam. “Samantha, you look absolutely stunning. Even more beautiful than I remembered. That dress is magnificent. And I love your hair. The girls did a wonderful job with it.” Miss Grace and Sam then exchanged their air kisses. “I know how you like expensive jewelry, so I have something here for you to wear this evening.” She picked up a large velvet box from the nearest table. “I’m not sure if the necklace will work with that dress. I think your neckline is too high, but let’s take a look.”

Sam opened the box and found bright red, sparkling jewels. “Rubies?” he asked. Miss Grace nodded. “May I ask a question?”

“Certainly.”

With a smirk on his face he asked, “Is all of your jewelry so expensive?”

With a perfectly straight face, Miss Grace answered, “Jewelry is a girl’s best friend. It can turn even the drabbest outfit into one fit for a princess. And as long as you are going to wear jewelry, it might as well be expensive jewelry. Don’t you agree? Please put on your earrings first.”

They were drop earrings with small rubies and gold settings. Sam gladly slipped them on. “Let’s try this next, please turn around Samantha,” and Miss Grace clasped a gaudy gold and ruby encrusted necklace around him. She took one look at Sam and announced, “Nope. As soon as I saw this divine dress I knew the necklace wouldn’t work. But do try the bracelets.” Lisa helped Sam snap them on his wrist. They were a little tight, but they would be acceptable.

“There you go Samantha. Now you are complete. Lisa, would you take Samantha on a tour of the house and grounds? Please return no sooner than 7:10. I would like to formally present you to the family. And have George take a picture of the two of you. I want a picture of Samantha for my scrapbook. Now shoo.”

When they were out of earshot, Sam asked, “A formal presentation?”

“You know, like at mom’s dinner party. George will announce us when we enter the room. I should explain a few things for you, so you are prepared. Miss Grace has invited Aunt Michelle and her entire family. Aunt Michelle is mom’s older sister. She has 3 daughters, Janice, Lydia and Gloria. You’ve met Gloria.

“When George introduces us, he will introduce you as my courtesan. If you were to look up the word in a modern day dictionary it wouldn’t have a very nice definition. We use the word in its old context. In the old days, when families of stature and substance had a dinner party, the women were required to have an escort. If the woman was unmarried, her escort was referred to as a courtesan. If married, her escort was a concubine. And older, married women had a hand maiden accompany them.”

None of this was exactly true, but it did sound plausible to Sam. And it was time for Sam to be introduced to the proper nomenclature used throughout the Hawthorne matriarchy.

“Since neither you nor I are married, you will be introduced as my courtesan. And since there are no husbands at this party, the other women will have escorts that go by similar titles. Miss Grace’s escort will be her hand maiden Eunice, (and vice versa).” There was no vice versa, but Sam was not yet ready for too much information. “Aunt Michelle’s escort will be her hand maiden. Usually she brings Donna with her.

“If Gloria brings someone, it will be her courtesan. Gloria is Michelle’s youngest daughter. Her oldest daughter is Janice and she is married, so her escort, who I am told is Gisela, will be her concubine. And the same for the middle girl, Lydia. Her concubine tonight is Tricia.

“Got it?”

“I caught Michelle, Gloria, Miss Grace and Miss Eunice. The rest I missed.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll figure them out before the evening is over I’m sure.”

“I’m your courtesan, right? You said if I looked up courtesan in a dictionary it would have a bad meaning. Like what?”

“The word has been bastardized over the years until now it means prostitute. But you’re no prostitute.”

“That’s for sure. And if I was I would be called a gigolo.”

By shear happenstance they had reached a full length mirror in one of the upstairs halls. Lisa pulled Sam in front of the mirror and said, “Look at that beautiful girl. No way could that girl ever be a gigolo. Samantha dear, if I were to pay you, you would be a very high priced prostitute.”

Sam took the bait, “How high priced?”

“Oh wow. That’s a tough call. I don’t know the going rates and all, since I’ve never hired a high priced prostitute before. But if I had to fork over some money to you, I would have to pay at least … fifty dollars.”

“Fifty dollars?” Sam said with mock incense. “That’s an insult!”

“Fifty dollars a second.”

Oh. Well let’s see, that would come to …”

Lisa quickly did the math, “18,000 dollars an hour. And I would hire you for a full night my little courtesan.”

Sam gave her a big smile and said, “It still seems a little low, but I might work for such a small pittance, as long as it was you.” They reached for each other’s hand, and continued their tour in physical contact.

Sure enough, when they entered the room, George announced, “Presenting Lisa Hawthorne and her courtesan Samantha Springer.”

And then the other introductions and greetings began. Gloria was alone, explaining she had just returned from skiing and didn’t have time to invite anyone. Miss Grace introduced Sam to Lisa’s Aunt Michelle and her hand maiden Donna. Sam could see the similarity between Miss Michelle and Miss Mona, but Miss Michelle was much friendlier. Miss Michelle introduced her second daughter Lydia and Lydia’s concubine Tricia. Lydia was very pleasant, but a rather plain girl. She was dressed very nicely and her makeup and hair were nice enough, but compared to everyone else, she didn’t impress Sam all that much. Lydia’s escort Tricia was much prettier than Lydia, but she said very little.

Sam might have had second thoughts concerning his harsh assessment of Miss Lydia if he had been presented with the whole truth. Miss Lydia was not only Miss Michelle’s second daughter, but she was also Miss Michelle’s first post-operative transsexual son. Like Harriet, Lydia had been born with an unfortunate, but correctable, disadvantage. The day she had first left the hospital for her home, she had begun her life-long transition into a Hawthorne girl. A transition much more complete and thorough than Sam’s would be. Sam would keep his outside plumbing.

One couple was not yet present. Shortly after Lisa and Sam arrived, George announced, “Presenting Janice Hawthorne and her concubine Gisela.” As the couple entered the room Sam’s mouth dropped open. Before him was the most beautiful woman Sam had ever seen in person. Janice looked very nice in her red halter dress and long flowing hair, but on her arm was a goddess. Sam would not have any trouble remembering her name; Gisela.

Her curvaceous body exuded movie star quality, charm and femininity as she eloquently strolled in with Janice. She looked like she belonged on a Hollywood red carpet. Her low cut dress and push up bra exposed large and beautiful globes of flesh with magnificent cleavage. She was at least a C cup girl. From her breasts down her body curved into the tiniest waist he had ever seen, and then out into full hips which swayed seductively as she walked towards Sam.

Her short dress exposed beautiful legs, encased in shiny satin stockings and ending in 3 inch open toed heels. She placed one foot in front of the other like a runway model, as she walked. Sam had never in person seen a girl with such a sexy and seductive walk.

Her bare arms wore gold bracelets that clinked as she swung her arms in stride with her swaying hips. Her fingertips literally sparkled with a red polish infused with glitter. And on each hand she wore one giant diamond ring.

But what truly made Gisela the most beautiful woman in the world was her face. She had the largest, greenest eyes that Sam could have possibly imagined. Those eyes and her large pouty red lips were offset by the whitest, most perfect complexion imaginable. If Sam had seen her picture in a magazine he would have been convinced she had been photoshopped. Her nose was small and perfectly contoured, she had high cheek bones and her brows were arched, but not too narrow.

Gisela’s hair was long and blond and was pulled back and woven into French braids along each side of her head, then brought together in back to form a double twist. With her hair pulled away from her face, her thin, long neck was exposed, offsetting her perfectly proportioned, goddess-like figure. A beautiful diamond pendant earring hung from each lobe, as if a sparkling flake of snow had been placed there by Mother Nature.

Lisa nudged Sam to close his mouth. Miss Janice stepped up to Sam and exchanged air kisses, then welcomed him to the family. Sam thanked her. Then it was Gisela’s turn. As they hugged Sam took a deep breathe and inhaled Gisela’s exotic fragrance. If angels had a fragrance, this must be it. Sam was at a loss for words after they hugged and exchanged kisses. But Gisela was not, and when her beautiful lips parted to speak, Sam was amazed with her perfectly shaped and brilliant white teeth. Nothing about this girl was too small or insignificant for Sam to notice, and that include her voice. And her voice was … not perfect. She had a beautiful sing-song lilt as she spoke, and the tenor of her voice was exactly what Sam would have expected. But she had a guttural or husky tenor to her voice that didn’t sound quite perfect. She sounded just a little like Samantha … on a good day. On Gisela it sounded sexy. But on Sam it sounded fake.

“We have all heard so much about Miss Lisa’s boy friend, and now it is a real pleasure to finally meet you, Samantha. You make a beautiful courtesan for Miss Lisa. I love your dress. And I am going to guess that those earrings belong to Miss Grace.”

“Yes they do.”

“I thought so. You make them look better than I have ever seen them.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome to our family. I hope we can talk some more later,” and she followed Janice off to greet her mother-in-law.

“Oh my God, I hope so too,” Sam thought to himself. Sam had been smitten by the most beautiful woman to ever grace the Hawthorne family. Gisela had that affect on boys … and girls.

The cocktails were served and all conversation centered on Lisa. With Sam on her arm, she recounted the now famous dinner party where the beautiful Samantha had debuted. Sam received so many compliments, that his male persona easily faded away beneath his now comfortable and graceful, feminine exterior.

While everyone looked at Sam, he looked at Gisela. Whenever he accidentally caught her eye, she would smile at him, and he would melt beneath her slightest gaze. Sam just could not believe how beautiful this woman … no goddess … truly was. Miss Grace even noticed Sam’s infatuation with Gisela, but she forgave Samantha his trespasses. Gisela invoked that response in everyone. Everyone!

Dinner was delicious and the conversation was interesting and stimulating, and even a bit titillating at times. It was after all, a gathering of adults.

At the conclusion of dinner, everyone adjourned to the sitting parlor for continued conversation and camaraderie. Sam eventually achieved his evening goal, a one-on-one conversation with Gisela. It would give him an opportunity to ogle her, while pretending conversation. Even though Sam had loosened up a little around Gisela, he still could do nothing more than pretend to be conversant with her. He could blubber, but talking was more difficult.

And Gisela knew this. She had had this affect on way too many boys to pretend she didn’t understand how potent an affect she had on them. And she enjoyed playing with them. Sam asked her what she did and she replied, “Whatever Miss Janice tells me to do.”

Sam was stupefied. “I mean what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a kept concubine,” she said with no trace of humor or sarcasm in her voice.

“Uhm …”

“I’m a stay at home nanny. I take care of Miss Janice’s two beautiful children,” she offered with a smile, as if she were done teasing Sam.

Across the room another conversation was starting. Lisa walked up to Grace, wrapped her arms around one of Grace’s arms and snuggled up tight to her. She laid her head on Grace’s shoulder and said, “Grandmother, can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly, my dear.”

The two stood snuggled next to each other and looked at Samantha and Gisela talking to each other. They watched for several moments before Lisa asked, “Isn’t he beautiful?”

Miss Grace was looking at the two boys and she assumed Lisa was talking about her boy. “Yes he is, Lisa. You know, he has something about him that I find very remarkable. His movements are so fluid and feminine. He’s almost sinuous. The boy acts like he was born to wear a dress like that. I think even you would agree that Gisela is the most beautiful boy ever sent to grace our family. But Gisela is about 23 or 24 I think. And how is old is Samantha?”

“Eighteen.”

“Eighteen. He is so young and he has a lot of growing to do. But I see potential on par with Gisela. And that is saying a lot.”

“I think he will be even prettier,” Lisa said proudly.

“You might be right, Lisa dear. He still has a lot of training ahead of him. And of course he’ll need some cosmetic surgery. Real breasts and wider hips will make that dress literally come alive.

“But even with surgery I doubt he will equal Gisela in one very important category. How is your boy hung?”

Lisa turned red. “Grandmother!” she squealed in a scandalous voice.

“My dear granddaughter, you know it is true. Gisela is the best hung boy to ever grace this family. And that includes Maggie’s entire harem.”

“How do you know, grandmother?” Lisa teased.

“From her wedding shower. Don’t forget, during her initiation into our family I tie on her ceremonial bow. Trust me, I know. I have been there; up close and personal,” she said with a grin.

“Don’t you find it interesting that the two most beautiful boys in our family were delivered to us not by Maggie or Eunice, but found independently by Janice and you? Obviously you two have quite an eye for pretty boys. Finding such potential takes a keen eye indeed sweet girl.

“Now Lisa , I don’t think the question you wanted to ask me is “Ain’t he the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen?” I think you had a more serious question in mind. Am I correct?”

“Of course grandmother.” Lisa gave Miss Grace’s arm a tighter hug and she began, “Mother is worried about how I am handling Samantha. She thinks that I am having too much sex with him. She says that if I overdo it, he might become satisfied with the amount he has had, and that will allow him to break away from me. Mom thinks I need to parcel out sex very slowly to keep him hungry and frustrated so that he holds on hoping to get more.”

Lisa paused, having set her premise, and Miss Grace totally understood. “True Lisa. It is one of those things that we have learned over the years. But remember, every boy is slightly different. No single rule is inviolable or all encompassing. You must know your individual boy.”

“Exactly, and I think I know Samantha. I understand mother’s point and I respect her experience and authority. But I think I already have him. Or at least I am very close.” Lisa paused and looked at Samantha. She caught his eye and he smiled at her. “But he is so beautiful in that dress with that hair that I really, really want to take him tonight. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you asking me for permission to take your boy to bed tonight and have sex with him? Against your mother’s best advice?”

Lisa slumped just a bit. “Yes I guess I am. I am asking for your advice.”

Miss Grace patted Lisa on the hand. “My dear girl, the good Lord put this boy here before you at this time and in this place for a reason. He has a plan for the two of you, and that is why you have been presented with this wonderful opportunity. That is why this boy’s future has been delivered into your hands. And in your hands the important decisions are placed. Not your mother’s. You must decide. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Lisa said quietly. She had been hoping for something a little different from her grandmother.

Miss Grace squeezed Lisa’s arm and said, “But if it were up to me, I would tell all of my girls to never pass up an opportunity to enjoy their gifts. You may lose him tomorrow for some totally unanticipated and unforeseeable reason. I personally would take him to my bosom and enjoy his youthful beauty and stamina. I would ride him hard and put him up wet!”

“Grandmother!” Lisa giggled.

“And if I were twenty years younger I would do the same with Gisela. She is without a doubt that most beautiful boy I have ever laid my eyes upon.”

“Why don’t you? If you mentioned that you desire Gisela, Janice would readily offer him to you. She can’t refuse you grandmother. You know that.”

“Yes, I know. But you need to realize that just because you can do something doesn’t mean that you should. Gisela belongs to Janice and even though I am entitled to her concubine, I don’t think it appropriate to take her. I am sure that she hasn’t been with anyone but Janice. And besides, I have my distractions from Maggie’s stable.”

“No, that’s not true about Gisela. Mother took Gisela with her to Miami last fall.”

“Your mother took Gisela?” Grace was truly surprised. “Has she taken anyone else?”

“I am pretty sure that she has also taken Gail and Tricia traveling with her.” Gail was the concubine of her cousin Karin, daughter of Aunt Serena.

“Even Tricia?” Miss Grace was now very surprised. Tricia was the wife and female concubine of Lydia, Michelle’s male daughter. Taking and using the pretty male concubines of her nieces was one thing, but taking a female was just not done. “She takes too much. You can thank your mother when your aunts Michelle and Serena ask for Samantha.”

Lisa released Miss Grace’s arm and stepped back. “Do you think they will?”

“My children have always been competitive. They will ask, and you must comply. I wouldn’t be surprised if your Aunt Joyce jumps into this also.”

“Even Aunt Serena? Miss Grace, Samantha is not ready to be taken by Aunt Serena,” she complained. Lisa had reason to be concerned. Aunt Serena was Miss Grace’s second daughter, and also her first post operative transsexual son. In some families, Serena would have been called uncle.

“Serena will wait until an appropriate time, I will make sure of that. But when she asks, you cannot turn her down. Those are the family rules. Your mother took Serena’s daughter-in-law, and Serena will reciprocate.” Miss Grace slowly shook her head, “Damn Mona!”

“Oh Miss Grace,” Lisa whined.

“Maybe if I also take Gisela I could stop this. But I doubt it. No, that would be shear folly. That would set off a free-for all. I’ll try to put a stop to this Lisa. For you and especially for Samantha, I will try.”

But Miss Grace wasn’t sure how she was going to accomplish it.

At the end of the evening Lisa and Samantha walked hand in hand up the stairs. They reached Sam’s room and walked right past it. “Where are you taking me?” he asked suspiciously. They reached Lisa’s room and she turned backwards and took both of Sam’s hands, then began walking backwards into her room, pulling Sam along. “Lisa?”

She pulled Sam into the center of the room where she stopped. She stepped up to Sam and placed her arms around his neck and pulled him forward for a careful kiss. “You are the most stunningly beautiful creature I have ever seen, Samantha. I spent all night staring at you, and I just got hornier and hornier, wetter and wetter. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life.”

Sam pushed back just a little, “I want you too, Lisa. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. But your mother; if she finds out, not only are we over, but I’m probably dead. And we’re in your grandmother’s house to boot. Miss Mona will find out. She finds out everything,” he complained.

“Don’t worry. We have permission. I talked with grandmother, and she will make sure that mom never finds out.”

“You talked about this with Miss Grace?” he asked scandalously.

“I promised that we would only have oral sex. I can’t wait to have you between my legs dear sweet Samantha. And in return, I will give you that … full … blow job that you have wanted.” She flashed a sexy and naughty smile at Sam.

“You are one awesome girl, Lisa.”

“Yes I am. And so are you.” Lisa again wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck and gave him a kiss with a little more pressure.” She released him and said, “I don’t want to mess your lipstick too much … yet.” She stepped behind him and began loosening the cummerbund strap on his dress.

“Well, if we ever come back for another red dress party I know which dress to wear. Everyone loved this dress. I received tons of compliments.” Sam kicked off his heels as Lisa was unfastening his dress.

“Did you enjoy the compliments?”

“Yeah, I did. Who doesn’t like to be complimented, no matter what kind of clothes you’re wearing?”

“Of course, but if we do this again, you can’t wear this dress.”

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t wear the same dress twice to the same event.”

“Why not?”

“Because it just isn’t done. It is fashion suicide.”

“But isn’t it wasteful?”

“You might want to wear it to some other event, where the same people aren’t in attendance, but not here. You might consider it to be a little wasteful, but remember we can afford to buy you a new dress anytime we want.

“And it’s not without precedent, Samantha. Certainly you realize that a girl never wears her wedding dress twice.”

“I guess. This girl stuff is way too complicated for an ordinary boy. I can’t wait until school is over.”

“Until school is over? Why?”

“Because then I won’t have to pretend I’m a girl anymore and I can go back to dressing normal.”

Lisa stroked Sam’s back and enjoyed his soft skin. To herself she said, “But this is the new normal, sweetheart. From now on this is how you are going to dress, for the rest of your effeminate and emasculated life.”

Lisa turned him around and said, “Bring me two hangars.” Sam handed the hangers to Lisa. “Now, please remove your dress and let’s hang it up.”

“What should I do about my hair?”

“Leave it up my beautiful boy. I can’t wait to have that sexy hair peaking over my loins as you go down and caress my clitoris with that talented tongue of yours.”

Sam removed his dress and Lisa placed it on one of the hangers. She handed the dress and extra hanger to Sam, and seductively removed her dress. “This is how you remove a dress; slowly and affectionately. Remember, you love the dress and the dress loves you.” She placed her dress on the extra hanger then gave Sam both dresses. “Please hang those up, my pretty courtesan.”

Lisa removed Sam’s panties, stockings and all of his silky lingerie. His penis was waving in the air, throbbing and pulsating with every heartbeat. Lisa dropped Samantha’s brassier over his penis and left it hanging there. While Sam quietly watched Lisa, Lisa watched the brassier gently bounce with the pulsing of Sam’s penis. She smiled at the incongruity of the scene. She appreciated seeing the dichotomy of a female’s most feminine undergarment and its placement upon the most masculine anatomy of a male. And both belonged to the same person; her girly boy and courtesan. Lisa removed the brassier and dropped it on the floor, then stroked his penis and asked, “Samantha, what did you think of Gisela?”

“I don’t know,” he said noncommittally. “She seems to be a nice girl.”

Lisa knew that Sam was infatuated with her. Heck, everyone was infatuated with Gisela. “Do you think she is pretty?” Lisa was teasing him. There was no way that Sam could safely answer this question.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Do you think she is well endowed?” Lisa asked as she gazed at Sam’s penis and stroked it once more. It was a trick question and Lisa was proud of herself. When Sam answered, there would be no way that he could know she was referring to Gisela’s cock.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Would you like to be that well endowed?” she asked with an enigmatic smile.

“I’m not a girl,” Sam protested.

“But if you were a girl, would you like to be like her?” Lisa flicked his penis one more time, and smiled cleverly.

Sam was getting the idea. Lisa was going to tease him with embarrassing questions while plying his cock with little tweaks. “If I were a girl I would want to be just like you.”

“Oh how sweet of you,” she said as she stroked his cock again. She cupped Sam’s testicles and looked in his eyes. “If you were a girl, I would want you to be just like Gisela, and as well endowed.” She squeezed his testicles and he almost yelled out. He flinched severely and Lisa let go. Acting as naively as possible she asked, “Did I hurt you?”

“Almost.”

“I am sorry Samantha. Please put on a negligee while I strip down. I can’t wait any longer to put you between my thighs.”

“If we’re going to get naked, why do you want me to put on a negligee?” he asked.

“It’s part of the seduction and part of the fun. Negligees are sexy and they add not only to the tactile pleasure, but the visual pleasure as well. It’s fun to slowly pull a silky negligee over a pair of hypersensitive nipples, or even an ultra-sensitive cock head. It heightens the pleasure and the fun. Sex shouldn’t be slam, bam, thank you ma’am. Great sex is slow and seductive. It has rules and procedures. It requires a slow finger, a flick of the tongue, soft moist kisses and a breath of warm air. It should begin languorously and only at the climax should it become a frenzy of unbearable pleasure. Orgasms are powerful frenzies, but they are only a small part of the drama. The slow, seductive foreplay is what makes sex truly passionate.

“When performed properly, sex is art. And I want to teach you to become a maestro.”

“I am beginning to understand,” Sam said. “And that is why you wanted me to wear lipstick when we were on the plane, and why tonight you want me to leave my hair style intact. It’s the visual aspect of our passion.”

Lisa smiled warmly, “Yes, now you are starting to see. I watched a beautiful, sinuous and concupiscent girl all night and I became aroused to an unbearable state; my panties are soaked and my loins ache with anticipation. I don’t want to turn off the lights and lose that beautiful girl. I want to indulge myself in that beauty, in those feminine lips and eyes and curves and breasts and hair. I want to breathe in the scent of your perfume and musk and pheromones. I want you to flaunt your beauty, and allow me to caress and hold and saturate my senses in your very essence. You do understand, don’t you?”

“I think so.”

“And that is why I love you Samantha dear. The masculine gender is too harsh, too fast and too brutal to understand the joy of pure passion. But you bring a soft feminine grace to our love that allows our passion to transcend the normal boundaries of sexual stereotypes and artificial limits. We can truly revel in one another’s arms without regard to male and female, but rather with respect to one another.

“Follow me,” and she led him to the bed. “Place that beauty of yours between my legs and slowly bring me to nirvana, my exquisite princess, and I shall reciprocate with fellatio that only a satiated lover can provide.”

Sam smiled and said, “What can I say?”

“You can say what you should always say; yes Miss Lisa.” Sam giggled, but Lisa meant every word she said. She crawled on the king size bed and pushed several pillows up to the walnut headboard. She snuggled into the pillows in a half sitting position so that she could easily see her lover between her thighs. “Slide into your position Samantha, and wait a moment.” Sam took his place and looked at Lisa. “Place your hands under my buttocks. Now lift my sacrament to your lips. Give me your softest kiss and the softest touch of your tongue. Squeeze me just a bit and breathe in my fragrances. Take a deep breath and hold it in. Savor it. Close your eyes and breathe. Tell me what you smell.”

“You.”

“Be more specific.”

“I don’t know the words to describe it. Moist. Warm. Sexy.”

“There you go my epicene beauty. Sexy. What else?”

Sam took another deep breath. “I’m not sure. Lust. But that’s my emotion.”

“No, you are correct. Lust belongs to me also. And you can smell it can’t you? You can’t put a name on the actual fragrance, the actual odor, but it smells like lust, doesn’t it?”

Sam was beginning to understand. “Sex, lust, desire, thirst. It makes me feel thirsty.”

“Then drink, but drink slowly. Pretend it is dew on a delicate fern and you must lick the dew carefully. Lick carefully dear boy.” Sam licked Lisa and she reached for his cheek. She slowly caressed the soft skin on his face and showed Sam how to be soft and slow. “Be gentle. Stop and sniff. Smell the dew. Do you still desire it?”

“With all my lust.”

“Then continue … slowly … higher now … slowly taste and savor my desire for you, but gently. Do not smear your lipstick, not yet. Just a bit of pressure, just a tiny lick of my epicenter now. Now my emotions and passion are being drawn to your tongue … your soft lips. Kiss me lover. Kiss me like a girl ... soft lips and don’t smear your lipstick. Yes, like a girl. Make love to my clit now. More tongue … slowly! … don’t be in a hurry, don’t let me be in a hurry. You must control my speed also.

“Now you may smear that love potion that you have on your ruby red lips my dear girl. Push in a little more … lean a bit heavier with your tongue … longer licks and heavier.” Lisa reached for both of his cheeks and caressed them towards her clit, urging him to move in tighter. She started raising and lowering her pelvis in rhythm with Sam’s licking. “Tighter … just a bit more … stop! … hold that position for just a moment … let me slow down … I feel wet, lick my juices. Slurp my juices. Push your lips between mine … color my lips red with your lipstick. Let me become one with you … let us share your symbol of femininity. Yes … good … now lick and again … flick … whooo … yes, once more … ooohhh … now with all your might … lick, suck, tongue, push and caress. Bring me to you Samantha, pull me to you. Lift, pull, tongue … aaaiiihhhh.”

Lisa’s hips and pelvis involuntarily heaved and slammed her vagina and pussy and clit into Sam’s mouth and tongue. Juices squirted from her vagina and coated Sam’s mouth and chin as she heaved into a god-almighty orgasm. She started to scream but quickly caught herself. She pushed and shoved and squeezed her shivering flesh against Sam’s face while waves of shear pain and delight washed over her and through her.

And finally it was over. She fell to earth, against a sheet that was wet with her lust and thirst. And Sam smiled at her. Lisa laughed. “What?” her lover asked.

“You look so silly … so used. Your lipstick is smeared all over your face. You look … you look … beautiful. My god you did wonderful. Now please, allow me a moment to rest. Lay your head on my tummy and caress me. You squeezed fingerprints into my ass. Let me recover for a quiet moment,” and she closed her eyes. Her hands found Sam’s curls and she caressed them.

“You feel so good lying here. With my eyes closed I can see your curls and your beautiful poise and posture … standing before me. You there … standing before me and my family tonight. Your red dress was so beautiful. It made you elegant and you made it sexy. When you turned away I stared at your bare back … so did everyone else. They were thinking, “Where did she find such a vision of beauty and grace?” and I was thinking, “How can I be so lucky?”

Lisa opened her eyes and looked at Sam. She pulled out one of Sam’s hair pins and unrolled his curl. “One down my thirsty courtesan.” She slid up so she was in more of a sitting position, and so she could easily watch Sam as he moved back between her thighs. “Now we can really slow down and enjoy our thirst. Take a deep breath and smell me. What do you smell now?” and she caressed his cheek.

Twice more, each time longer than the previous, Sam with his curls piled on top of his head, slowly and softly brought bliss to his mistress. And Miss Lisa was duly appreciative. After resting for the third time she announced, “And now dear Samantha, I shall endeavor to take control of your masculinity and bring you to my destination.”

They traded places and Sam blissfully fell against the stacked pillows. He was exhausted from the marathon service that he had provided to Lisa, but he was also bursting with anticipation of his realizing his own nirvana. His jaw ached and his cheeks felt raw from their constant brushing against Lisa’s prickly pubic hair. Satisfying a beautiful girl was hard work indeed.

But now Sam would reap his reward. Lisa moved down on Sam and rolled his negligee up his torso and left it pushed up against his silicone bust. Then she slid down to his hips and gently took his testicles in her hand. She squeezed gently and caressed his scrotum, feeling it tighten beneath her touch. She caressed the skin around his crotch and penis, the area where his pubic hair used to exist. “Samantha, your skin is prickly. You haven’t been keeping yourself shaved smoothly.” For a moment she thought of calling everything to an end. It would reinforce her control over Sam and leave him frustrated. It would be good for discipline. But she realized that she wanted to do this. “You will have to do a better job if you ever want me to do this again.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t think we would be …”

“Don’t think. Anticipate. Anticipate the unanticipated. Please be ready for me.”

“Of course.” Of course if it meant sex, he would be ready. He would stay ready.

Lisa wrapped her hand around Sam’s throbbing penis and stroked him once. She knew that stroking with her hand would bring the boy to climax must faster than using just her mouth, lips and tongue. It could save a girl from lockjaw. But she realized that right now Sam didn’t need much stimulation. He was probably ready to blow with her first blow. She giggled to herself. Lisa slowly sucked the tip of his penis. She wanted his precum, and she spread it across the roof of her mouth. It didn’t have much taste, but she enjoyed its texture.

Then she licked his cock like an ice cream cone. Sam liked that, she could tell. She could also tell that he was loaded and ready to fire. She wasn’t ready yet, so she backed off for a moment and placed a kiss on his stomach. She caressed his balls for a short time, letting him relax from her single lick. Mt. St. Helens was ready to explode.

Lisa raised herself a little higher and lowered her mouth over his entire penis, trying to deep-throat him. But she knew that was a useless gesture, as he could barely reach her tonsils. She closed her lips tightly over his cock and began to stroke him up and down. She was prepared for his orgasm and ejaculate. Lisa wanted to taste it, to feel its texture and see if she could swallow it. She had heard so many stories from so many girls she wasn’t sure what to expect. Even her mother couldn’t adequately describe and prepare her for this moment.

She pressed her tongue against the side of his penis as she used her lips and mouth to stroke his epicenter. She could feel a tensing in his loins as the inevitable spasm prepared to burst out. “I’m going to cum,” Sam warned her. He had carried out his responsibilities to his benefactor, and nothing more was warranted. All he could do was hope that she would take him all the way. And that was Lisa’s intention. It might never happen again, it would depend solely on how Lisa enjoyed this moment in time, so enjoy it while you can, was his mantra.

Lisa held the base of Sam’s penis and slid her mouth up to the top to make room for his juices. She was as ready as she could be. Let him cum! And cum he did. In spite of his small endowment, Sam was able to produce a gusher of new flavors and strangely textured juices for Lisa. His first spasm was stronger than she anticipated and it spurted deep into her throat. She almost gagged, not from the volume but from the surprise. She tried to swallow but only half went down. And before she could swallow again, another load burst forth and filled her mouth. She bulged her cheeks to try and hold it all, while at the same time trying to swallow again. And then a third gusher issued forth from Sam’s miniature volcano.

This time she could no longer contain the growing volume of semen and she had to open her mouth. The semen flowed over her lips and down her chin, reaching Sam’s penis and smearing over his groin area. Another huge spasm and another gush of viscous fluid went flowing out her mouth and over his cock and scrotum and onto the bed sheets. She knew she couldn’t keep up, so she swallowed what remained in her mouth as she expelled Sam’s cock and drew away to let the next spurt fly onto Sam’s stomach.

Two more smaller spurts and Sam was done. Heaving and breathing heavily he collapsed into his pillows, unable to move or say anything. Lisa stroked Sam’s cock and watched additional semen flow slowly out of his tiny hole. Lisa was trying to collect her thoughts. She was trying to determine just exactly what had happened, and she was trying to decide if she liked any of it. She now knew why no one had been able to adequately prepare her for what to expect. The experience was indescribable. She licked her lips and thought about the tastes and textures and feelings she had just … enjoyed? … endured? She couldn’t decide; everything was just too new and raw.

She took a finger and wiped a stream of semen off Sam’s stomach and licked it off her finger while she looked at Sam. Sam began laughing at her. “What?” she asked.

“I don’t know who looks more used, you or me?” And he laughed again.

Lisa could only guess as to what she looked like, and she giggled also. She took 2 fingers and wiped Sam’s ejaculate from her chin. And that is when inspiration struck Lisa. She still hadn’t decided if she liked performing fellatio on Sam, but she would do it again. And she knew what else she would do. She slid up to Sam’s face and held her fingers under Sam’s nose.

“What do you smell?” she asked.

“I don’t know. It’s odd. Warm? Sticky?”

“Taste it. Lick it off my fingers,” and she placed her fingers in his open mouth. “Suck them. Taste them, and now tell me what you taste.”

Sam was surprised by Lisa’s maneuver. He never expected to taste his own semen, but he did what she asked. It was kind of kinky, but then Lisa was a kinky girl … and that was kind of fun. Sam licked her fingers and tasted his cum. He moved it around his mouth and thought.

“Well? What do you taste?” Not only was Lisa trying to tease and control Sam, but she was actually hoping he would help put words to the taste and smell, because she couldn’t.

“Man, I don’t know. New? Unique? Strange?”

“Not good enough,” she said. She reached down and wiped some more semen off his stomach and fed it to him. “Try harder,” she said lightly but firmly. She really wanted to know.

“Odd? It is different from anything I have ever tasted or smelled. Maybe salty? Bacon!”

“Don’t be a smart ass, little girl. Come on keep trying. I want to know.”

“I really can’t put it in words. The texture is easier. It’s smooth and silky. It coats the mouth smoothly, but smell … maybe a bit medicinal? Metallic? I give up.”

Lisa reached down to Sam’s stomach and smeared his semen all over his stomach. “Now it won’t drip. You have to take your negligee off by yourself, my hands are all gooey.”
Sam pulled his negligee over his head and tossed it on the bed. “Now come along, we need to clean you up.”

“And you too,” he giggled. Lisa loved his little giggle because it sounded so unmanly, and by contrast, so feminine.

They walked into the bathroom and stood side by side as they looked in the mirror. They both began giggling. “You look like a little girl who got hold of her mommy’s lipstick,” Lisa giggled.

Sam laughed. “Well you don’t look much better. Not only is your lipstick smeared, but it looks like you’ve been eating Vaseline.” They both laughed uproariously.

Their laughter died down and Lisa wrapped her arms around Sam. “I guess we don’t have to worry about smearing our lipstick,” and she kissed him with a world-class liplock.

“God you’re sexy,” Sam said. “I don’t think you have ever looked more beautiful or more sexy.”

A tear came to Lisa’s eye. “Samantha, I love you.” And she kissed him passionately again. Finally, after several moments she said, “Please go start the shower, but don’t get in. Wait for me.” Sam turned on the shower and adjusted the pressure and temperature. Lisa came over with a large jar of makeup remover, “Hold this,” and she handed the open jar to Sam. She scooped out a big glob and said, “Close your eyes,” then she smeared it all over his face and worked it into all of his pores, loosening his makeup and turning it into a soupy mess.

She took the jar from him and said, “You have to work by Braille.” Sam knew what to do, and he returned the favor. Lisa placed the jar on the floor and stepped into the shower with Sam, where they finished cleaning their faces.

Back in bed, they were both wearing silky negligees and had fluffy towels wrapped around their wet hair. Lisa rolled on top of Sam and stared into his eyes. “If I hadn’t made that promise to Miss Grace, I would fuck your brains out right now, Samantha darling.”

Sam didn’t particularly like having Lisa always call him by his female name. But he was getting used to it, and more importantly, he was getting sex! “I wish you didn’t make that promise either,” he smirked.

“So my little pretty, how did you like your blow job? Was that not the best blow job you have ever had?”

It was the only blow job he had ever received. Lisa knew that too. “God that was beautiful Lisa. I have to admit that I was a little surprised that you … you know … swallowed. I was sure that you would back off when I said I was cumming.”

Lisa gave him a little pout and asked, “Was I bad?”

Sam hugged her tightly and said, “Yeah, you were really bad.”

CHAPTER 28

The next morning Lisa and Sam went riding. Lisa wore her usual jodhpurs, but she had something new for Sam. She gave Sam a riding skirt to wear. They looked pretty much like a normal skirt, but they were actually flared out pants. When standing, they gave the appearance of a skirt, but they allowed him to straddle a horse and ride comfortably. It was something new and Sam didn’t mind. He wore his normal blouse and boots.

Jennifer had arrived the previous day. She drove her pickup and pulled the horse trailer behind her. She brought Cinnamon, Abigail and her own palomino, Jesse. By the time Lisa and Sam reached the barn, Jennifer had the horses saddled and ready to go. Lisa took Sam for a tour of the farm, while Jesse and Jennifer practiced barrel racing.

They finished riding at noon and had a light salad before Maggie arrived to drive them back to school. Miss Grace gave Sam a big hug and kiss, then handed him a memory stick. “These are pictures of you in that heavenly dress. I hope you like them. Have a nice week,” and she sent the kids off with Maggie.

Lisa and Sam were cuddled in the back seat as Maggie began their drive. “Mary called yesterday, Samantha. She says you need to get micro-abrasion for your face. She said she
wants a cleaner and smoother look. I told Jill to set you up for after school tomorrow. Ok?”

“I guess. Is it a big deal?”

“No,” Lisa said. “It will take about an hour and your face will feel just a little raw and dry. Make sure to use the lotion she gives you. Otherwise, no big deal.”

“And don’t forget your laser appointment tomorrow morning. Mary wants you to work on your chest this week. She would like it as clean as a baby’s bottom.”

“Ok.”

Monday afternoon, Sam was sitting in the library looking at his red dress pictures with Bill. Sam was telling Bill about his weekend. “This morning I went to my laser appointment. She said I didn’t have much to do on my face, but she spent almost an hour on my chest.”

“Is that how long it takes to laser your chest smooth?”

“I have two more appointments this week. So I suppose she will do more clean up work then. And then tonight I have a micro-abrasion appointment. She essentially sand papers the top layer of skin. It will leave my skin smoother with less noticeable blemishes. Or so I am told.”

“God, you are the luckiest guy on the face of this earth,” Bill said.

“I’m not so sure about that. But I do have to admit, this has been the most interesting month of my entire life. I don’t see how it can get much weirder. But if this is what I have to do to get laid, well …” and he smiled lasciviously.

“I understand how you got where you are Samantha, and I really envy you. I wish I could be you, for even a day. Even a single day would be magnificent. But you get to do this all of the time, full time. How do you like being a full time girl?”

That question really hit home. “How do I feel?” Sam thought. “And what do I tell him? The truth, I guess. We’ve been honest so far. But can I be honest to myself?”

“That’s really two questions, Bill,” Sam began. “First off I don’t consider myself a girl. I’m not a girl. I’m just a guy that is dressing up like a girl so I can spend more time with a real girl. So if you are asking if I like to be a full-time girl, I don’t. I don’t want to be a girl.

“But on the other hand, when all this started I decided that I would give Lisa my best effort. Since then, I’ve been forced into the real world and if you don’t pass there, you can get beat up or worse. So it is even more important that I try to be as good as possible. And as I try to remain alive,” and he chuckled softly, “I find that I want to look good and be passable. Not only to survive, but to … to look pretty and maybe even … maybe even enjoy it?

“I’m not sure that’s the right sentiment … enjoying this, but its odd Bill. When I’m dressed as a girl I want to do more than just pass, and stay alive. I want to be pretty. I want to attract attention from the boys, even though I’m scared to death of one approaching me. And when I feel that I’m pretty, then I enjoy this. I do enjoy being dressed like a girl, but not necessarily being a girl.

“Do you understand what I’m saying? What I mean?”

“Yeah, I think so. You don’t want to be a girl, and you don’t consider yourself to be a girl; not like those guys that say they were born a girl in a guy’s body.”

“Exactly.”

“But you like dressing up and being pretty and attractive. Right?”

“Sort of. When I have to dress as a girl, I try to be attractive and pretty.”

“I really envy you Samantha Springer. I wish I could dress up and look like you.”

Friday morning Sam went to his laser appointment, and then Jill drove him to class.
He wore a really cute sweater and skirt outfit. Lisa and he had found it while shopping

earlier in the week. It had a black form-fitting knit sweater with a V neckline. But there was a layer of shear black lace under the V, and at the bottom of the V was a black bow. The skirt was a black and white, wool plaid with a fringe at the waist and the hem. And to accessorize he wore black thigh high stockings and black knee-high boots with 2 and ½ inch heels. With his corset pulled to its maximum tightness, and his hip padding, he had some nice curves. On top he wore his large breast forms with a lacy black brassiere, but the forms weren’t glued. He would be going “small” during his weekend modeling gig.

Maggie picked up the “girls” a little early and rushed them straight back to D.C. There was no dawdling allowed, because Sam had an appointment with the company doctor. Before he could work as an intern for the summer, he had to have a physical. Sam was nervous about dressing as a girl to go see a doctor, but Lisa and Maggie had calmed his concerns. It was the same doctor that had given him his collagen injections for his lips. Maggie assured Sam that this doctor knew the true score. And in fact she did. She knew even more than Sam.

Sam was treated as any other girl when he reached the doctor’s office, except there was no waiting for the doctor. Sam was considered a Hawthorne, and he received preferential treatment. He was immediately sent to an examination room where his nurse took the usual temperature, pulse, blood pressure measurements, and drew some blood. When completed with the preliminaries, the nurse handed Sam a gown to change into and then left the room. The doctor arrived almost immediately and asked Sam a series of questions about his medical history, then checked his heart, reflexes and the other usual items. Then things turned towards the bizarre.

“I’d like to give you a gynecological exam today, Samantha. Would you please sit on the couch.” It wasn’t a request.

Sam had never seen a gynecological exam table before, but he knew immediately what it was. “Are you sure, doctor?”

“Yes, Samantha. I want to examine your scrotum and penis.” Sam took his seat and the doctor pulled out some stirrups from the side of the couch, “Please place your legs in these.” With a ton of apprehension Sam complied. “This won’t hurt, I just want to look around and take a few measurements. She felt his scrotum and his testicles and almost sent Sam through the roof more than once. The doctor was not gentle with his balls.

Then she took out calipers and rings and measured everything. Everything! She even stroked Sam to give him an erection, then slid a series of different size rings over his penis, to measure its diameter. She also measured his length twice; once with an erection and once without.

“I need to check your prostate and then I need a sample of your semen.” She placed a bottle on his stomach and then maneuvered the tip of his penis into the end. “Please hold your penis in the bottle please. Don’t let it slip out. I need to catch as much semen as possible,” she said clinically. Sam was watching the activity and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had never had a physical like this before.

The doctor put on a latex glove and then squirted a little KY jelly on the fingers. “I will be sliding my fingers up inside you. As I push, please bear down as if you were taking a bowel movement. Now.” Sam pushed and she quickly slid her finger inside of him. “I’m feeling your prostate and making sure it is healthy.” She felt around for a minute then announced, “Everything feels good. Now relax while I milk your prostate. It will feel odd, maybe a bit unusual, but there will be no pain.”

Sam wondered what she meant by that terminology, milk your prostate? The doctor slid her finger in and out and Sam could feel a little bit inside his rear, but she was right, there was no pain or anything. But he wasn’t looking forward to having to masturbate for her. At least he thought he would do the act, he hoped she wasn’t going to do it for him. As he looked at the ceiling and thought about what was coming next, an odd feeling arose inside him. It almost felt like … like he was going to … ejaculate. Semen started leaking from his penis and flowing into the bottle.

“Hold that bottle and try to catch all of it, please.”

“My god!” he thought. “I’m coming. How?” And to make the situation even odder, he kept cumming. The doctor kept milking him and he kept flowing into the bottle. He didn’t feel any pleasure, there was no orgasm, and the ejaculate didn’t even spurt out. It just kept flowing. He almost filled the bottle before she stopped.

“That should do it,” she announced and withdrew her finger from his ass. She threw her glove in the waste bin then asked for the bottle. She handed him a Kleenex and said. “You can clean up. As soon as you are dressed you can leave. It was nice seeing you Samantha.” They shook hands and the doctor disappeared out the door with her bottle of Sam’s semen.

And that was the end of another perfectly bizarre encounter in the life of Samantha. He should have been used to it by now, but how could you get used to things like that?

His physical had been in the doctor’s office located in the Hawthorne Building, so he rode the elevator down to the first floor and walked to the salon. “Hello Samantha, welcome. Susan will be right with you,” Florence said. Sam handed his purse to Florence and she placed it behind the counter.

Lisa was in a styling chair and she waved at Sam, “Samantha! Over here.” Sam walked over to Lisa and said hi. “How did the physical go?”

“Ok.” Weird he thought, but said nothing. “I guess everything is ok.”

“Great. Time to start getting pretty.”

Susan snuck up behind him and patted him on the rear, “Hi Samantha.” Sam jumped when she patted him. Susan laughed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you all right?”

“Sure, you just startled me.”

“Something to drink?” Sam shook his head. “Ok, let’s start with your legs. The waxing room is this way,” and she took Sam’s hand and pulled him along. They reached the room and Susan handed him a terry cloth robe. Sam removed his shoes, skirt and stockings, then his hip padding. He tossed the robe aside, since he was still wearing everything on top.

Sam was leaning against the table when Susan returned. She pointed at Sam’s panties and said, “Lisa said that I was to give you a full Brazilian. You might as well remove your panties before we start.”

Sam was stunned. “What? What’s a Brazilian?”

“A Brazilian wax is where I remove all of your pubic hair, except for a small strip above your crotch, or in your case above your penis. A full Brazilian removes everything; nothing is left.”

“But … I can’t go naked … in front of you.”

“Yes you can. I have no problem at all with full frontal nudity. But if you feel bashful, throw the robe over your crotch.” Susan gave him a sweet smile. “Really Samantha, don’t think twice about me. I won’t be embarrassed or shocked.”

“But I might!”

Susan rubbed his arm and said, “Let’s get started, Samantha. Jump up on the table and let me turn you into a smoothie.”

Once again Sam was forced to shake his head and marvel at his weird life. “Did Lisa tell you why I needed a full Brazilian?”

This time Susan turned just a bit red and with a huge smirk she said, “Something about you being prickly and scratching her nose.”

Sam turned crimson.

It took Susan the better part of an hour to finish waxing Sam, and rubbing lotion into his legs. “Greta is next. She is going to give you nail extensions and a pedicure. Do you need to go potty first? Something to drink? No? Then you belong to Greta. Don’t put on your hose. I’ll come get you in a second.”

Greta used up over an hour. When she was finished, Samantha had long, blunt finger nails, ending in the white tip of a French nail. Sam had never worn extensions before and he found them fascinating. They felt odd whenever he tapped his nail on something. They looked pretty, but he soon found out they were difficult to work. The nail interfered in his finger’s ability to do anything that took fine, finger-tip manipulation. Even grabbing a zipper had to be done differently than normal. And buttons? Forget about it!

Then back to Susan. “You are going to love this Samantha. Your new color is going to be really vibrant and it will make you all the more beautiful. Walk this way,” and she swished her hips in an exaggerated motion as she led Sam to her styling station. Sam followed her lead.

Sam took his place in the chair and relaxed as Susan wrapped a towel around his neck, then applied his cape, and then put another towel over the cape. “We have to be very careful that this dye doesn’t get on your clothes or skin.” She took out a jar of wax and opened it up. “We’ve also got to be careful that we don’t die your skin auburn. So this wax will protect your skin.” Susan took a glob of the wax and began applying it to Sam’s skin next to his hairline. She went over his forehead, down around his ears in front and behind and along the nape of his neck. Then she put a little dab on the top of each ear. Finally, Susan used her comb to section Sam’s hair into 4 sections and clipped them in place. Sam was now ready for his coloring.

She turned to her work counter and mixed up her color in a plastic bowl and swished it around until it was the right consistency. “This is going to feel a little icky Samantha, but just relax and think about how gorgeous you’re hair is going to look.” Susan used a brush to begin applying the coloring to Sam’s hair. She concentrated on the mid section of the hair, leaving the roots and ends for later. After swabbing and painting all four sections, Susan started over, getting down closer to the scalp. And when she finished around the scalp, she used her gloved hands to swish Sam’s hair around and get the color on the hair ends.

“Ok, the book says twenty minutes for this brand of color, so how about I get you something to read or drink?”

“No, I’m ok,” Sam said. He just wanted to sit and look around the salon, smell the scents and watch the other girls going about their work. He wasn’t a girl. He kept telling himself that, but it was interesting to sit here and observe and … enjoy? … this special environment. This environment that belonged to women was something he didn’t anticipate seeing again. After his modeling gig, and after school was finished, it was back to the drab world of boys and barbers. Well, maybe he would be more inclined to see a stylist now that he had been in a real woman’s salon. He enjoyed getting his hair washed and massaged whenever his hair was cut, and that was better than a plain old barber shop.

He might miss some of this, but he would be glad to quit wearing a corset and tucking his balls and cock up between his legs. God, that got old fast! He was more used to it now, but he would be happy the day he could stop. And getting dressed in the morning was such a time consuming pain. Removing his corset, then sit ups, soaking in the tub, wrapping and toweling his hair, brushing his teeth, applying moisturizer over his torso and legs, sliding on his liner, and then back into that rigid corset. Maybe one hour of relief and then right back in it. And then he had to tuck his privates, pull on panties and a hot, confining padded hipster, dress up all girly and on top of all that, spend time applying his makeup and a fragrance. Ok, the fragrance didn’t take long, but the rest was a pain. And that didn’t even include having to finish drying his hair with the blower.

“All that just so I could spend a day and a half skiing,” he thought. “But to be honest, I am getting paid to sit here. Money is nice. But all I’ve been spending money on is girl’s clothes. What good is money if that is all you use it for?”

And while Sam sat and watched and observed and sniffed and listened, he wasn’t unhappy. No, this wasn’t killing him or driving him mad. He was getting closer to Lisa, getting some sex, and living an interesting time of his life. Lisa was introducing him to things he would never have encountered without her. Not just the feminine side of his life, but meeting rich people and senators and riding horses and driving around in limousines. He really liked Lisa and he wanted to keep her as his girl friend; maybe even consider more than just being friends. But that was still a ways off.

Life was good. It was strange, but good. ”I can be Samantha a little longer. Wearing million dollar jewelry is kind of neat,” and he smiled to himself. “What a weird existence. What a kinky girl friend. What great sex! Yeah, I can do this a little longer.”

The feminization of Sam continued inexorably onward. Night and day, school and salon, inch by inch and pound by pound, Sam was becoming Samantha. He was becoming comfortable with his situation. He was rationalizing parts of it, expecting to quit and change back to his old habits knowing full well that Lisa had given him no expectations of that. If anything, Lisa was telling him how much she liked her pretty and effeminate boyfriend. She wanted Samantha as much as, if not more than, Sam. He was being emasculated right before his own eyes and he continued to look the other way. Sam was becoming the epicene Samantha Springer, and soon she would become the beautiful and obedient concubine Samantha Hawthorne.

Life could be worse.

“Time is up. Let’s rinse that goo out of your hair Samantha.” Susan tossed the top towel off to her counter and took Samantha to the sink. It took a few minutes to rinse everything out of his hair, and then it was right back to the styling chair. She blotted Sam’s hair and got the excess water out then pulled over her roller cart. “This won’t take much time at all, Samantha. We’re using big rollers and I won’t have to put too many in your hair.”

Susan was right, of course. In barely over ten minutes Sam’s hair was rolled and had a hair net and a silk Hermes scarf over his head. “Whew! I bet that was a long day for you, huh?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Sam said “So I guess I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Yep. Now tomorrow will be a long day. I’ve worked with Mary before, and she is finicky. She worries about the tiniest details. We’ll be lucky to be done by midnight.”

Sam gave an appreciative groan. “There you are,” Lisa said. “All done? Did you make her pretty, Susan?” Lisa handed Sam a pink shopping bag with handles.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Your new corsets. I suggest you switch tonight when you get ready for bed. I’m sure it is going to fit differently, and it will help to get a little acclimated before tomorrow.”

Florence handed the girls their purses, and Lisa immediately pulled out her cell phone. “Hi Maggie. We’re all done. Where should we meet you? Ok, bye.”

“Come on Samantha, let’s go home and rest,” she said as she offered her arm to Sam. Sam took her arm, as if he were the girl on a man’s arm. Lisa had easily reversed their roles. As they walked out to the elevator Lisa said, “Look at us, two girls with their hair up in rollers. It looks like were going to a slumber party.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“Don’t get too excited. My period started today.”

“That’s too bad,” Sam said sincerely. Of course he was thinking of his own desires when he said it.

When they reached the limousine, Maggie was waiting for them. She opened the rear door and Lisa slid in, followed by Sam. Sam was startled to find Miss Mona waiting for them. “Hi girls. Don’t you two look cute. I always like seeing pretty girls with their hair in curlers.”

“Hi mom.”

“Hello Miss Mona.”

“Hello Samantha. That’s a very pretty outfit you are wearing. I swear you get prettier every time I see. So, I have some exciting news for you,” she said to Samantha.

“Me? What?”

“If you remember, last week we were talking politics and I invited you to intern with us this summer.” Sam nodded. “Well, you get to start sooner than this summer. We have a charity event to attend tomorrow night.”

“We do?”

“Yes we do. It is one of the á¼ber events of the year. A charity for some silly cause, but it will be well attended by the movers and shakers from Washington. The top lobbyists and more than a few congressmen will be there. It will be a wonderful opportunity for you to meet some people and see how things get done in this town. Might you be interested, Samantha?” Miss Mona didn’t bother to mention that the reason all the movers and shakers would be at the party, was because Mona Hawthorne had announced her attendance.

Sam was conflicted. Hell yes he wanted to go, but he knew damn well the invitation was being extended to Samantha, not Sam. “Uhm … I will go dressed as …”

Mona thought Sam might be asking about Sam the boy versus Samantha the girl being invited, and she put that thought to no uncertain death immediately. “My beautiful new intern,” Mona quickly finished for him. “I have taken the liberty of going through Harriet’s closet and I have found the perfect dress. It is a yellow formal, and you will make it beautiful.”

“Well, will anyone else be going? You and me and … Lisa?”

“Samantha needs her security blanket. And she is scared to death of me,” Mona thought to herself. “The four of us will attend,” she said. “You and Lisa, Maggie and me. But I want you on my arm for most of the evening. That way you can get a first hand look at the underbelly of Washington. Won’t that be interesting?”

“Yes ma’am, it will,” he said as he swallowed hard.

The phone was ringing, and even though Sam thought he knew where it was, he couldn’t find it. He was trapped in his ankle length negligee and he couldn’t get loose. Lisa was watching on her monitor and even though she couldn’t see through the duvet, she thought she knew what was going on. She let the phone ring until Sam finally got loose.

“Good morning sweetie. Are you ready for a long hard day?”

“Not really. Are we really going to a charity event tonight?”

“Yes, why?”

“I don’t know …”

“Don’t worry, mom will be alright. She’ll be in her element, and you will be amazed how nice and gracious she will be. And trust me, you’ll will probably learn stuff that will shock you. You’re hair will probably straighten.”

“Yeah, I tried to convince myself of that all night. But it didn’t work. Lisa, you’re mother and I are like oil and water. And one of us is combustible.”

“Mom is different with work, and this is work. I’ll hang close by. If you need saving, cross your fingers and I’ll see it. I’ll come rescue you. You can do it. I know you can. Don’t forget you have to douche.”

“I know.”

“And don’t forget, no makeup.”

“I know.”

“And don’t forget you have to wear your new corset.”

“I know.”

“Well if you know all of this stuff, why do I have to remind you?”

“I don’t know.” They both giggled.

“Don’t worry about tonight, please. Everything will work out just fine. I know it will.”

“Not,” he answered back and hung up. Sam slipped out of bed and felt his curlers. They felt like they were still attached properly. Those curlers were the other reason he hadn’t slept well. They pressed into his scalp and held his head way off his pillow. And his hair felt wet most of the night, and it got his pillow wet. He never did get comfortable. He looked in the mirror to make sure the curlers were still properly aligned and sighed. He picked up his new corset and looked it over. It looked much more expensive and sophisticated. It was longer and flared at the bottom where it presumably spread over the top of his hips. The material was smoother and looked much more finished than his current corset. And it looked much smaller in the waist. “Not looking forward to this,” he said out loud.

Mona was watching and she smiled. “Yes you will, Samantha my pet. Tonight I will give you a real show. You have nothing to fear. I like you. In public I will protect you like a she-tiger.”

Mona dressed and made it to breakfast just so she could send off her girls. “Maggie has your yellow dress for tonight, Samantha. I’ll bring the expensive jewelry. See you both tonight, kiss, kiss.”

The girls slid into the back of Maggie’s limo and snuggled together. “How are you feeling?” Lisa asked.

“I’m starving,” Sam answered. “A salad last night, no solid food this morning and on top of that I had an enema. My stomach is growling like a lion.”

“Sorry sweetheart, but it’s just part of the fun when you’re a glamour model.”

“It’s not very glamorous if you ask me.”

“You might think differently when you get paid.”

“Maybe.” He thought about it a minute and asked, “So what does a big name model make for a day?”

“I’m not really sure, but more than you and me. A lot more than a grand a day.”

“Maybe we should ask for more?” Sam was grinning, his first smile of the day.

“I guess we can ask,” Lisa agreed. “But don’t be too greedy,” she warned.

“I’m not being greedy,” Sam objected. “Everyone keeps telling me how pretty you and I are, so I just want honest and fair compensation. Let them put their money where their mouth is.”

Lisa smiled. “You are a vamp, Samantha,” and she gave him a big kiss.

As usual they were greeted warmly at the salon. Susan and Bridgette were under strict orders not to waste time. They hustled their charges off to their respective styling chair and removed curlers. Both stylists knew exactly what to do. Mary had given them clear orders on what she wanted. Sam sipped a diet coke while Susan manipulated hair, curls, pins and clips. It took about 30 minutes for her to have Sam’s hair pinned up in the proper style. He looked very stylish, and matrimonial — if that is a word.

Then it was time for makeup. Mary had brought in help. The six foot tall Brazilian Julia was hired to help. Susan was the main stylist and makeup artist, but Julia observed, recommended and even did a tiny little bit of hands on. Susan was getting some additional training and tips from the salon’s expert while she handled Sam’s makeover. Julia fluidly moved back and forth between Lisa and Sam, making sure everything was perfect, absolutely, 100% perfect.

Makeup took them up against the 9:30 deadline, and Mary was ready to start kicking butts. “Come on girls, we have real work to do here today. This isn’t a lolly-gag in the park. Powder, line, fill … whatever, get moving! We have to get to wardrobe today!”

Sam snickered at Mary. She was one of those “type As”, and it amused Sam. Sam knew she couldn’t come down too hard on him — he was a Hawthorne, so he could objectively watch her go berserk, and smile about it at the same time. Sam had figured out one or two things. And one of the most important was being a Hawthorne certainly put him at the top of the food chain. He couldn’t decide if he was a great white or killer shark. Maybe a tyrannosaurus. No! Wait, that was Miss Mona. Sam actually laughed out loud and no one had the slightest clue as to what had gotten into him.

Mary pushed him and Lisa up a flight of stairs and into the hands of Alyne and the petite Claudia. “No bra,” she instructed Alyne. “And tighten that corset, she looks like a bloated whale.” That comment pissed off Sam, for a moment. Then he turned back on his objective glasses and even smiled. He truly could stand above this flurry and enjoy it. Until Alyne started tightening his corset.

“Come here,” she said to Sam. She took him over to a doorway. “Get on your tip toes and grab that door frame up there.” Even on tip-toes Sam could barely reach the top of the door frame. “Hang on,” she said, and with his abdomen pulled tight and taught, she struck. Alyne demonstrated strength Sam never anticipated and she gave a yank on his corset strings that almost knocked the wind out of him. She pulled so hard that he lost his grip and she closed the new corset all the way to its minimum size.

“Fuck,” he blurted out.

“What did you just say?” Alyne demanded sternly. Then everyone in the room burst out laughing. “Little tight? Alyne asked.

“If I die, I’m suing,” Sam wheezed.

“If you die, then we’ll know your corset is tight enough.” Everyone laughed again.

“Funny, funny,” Mary said, and she wasn’t laughing at all. “First dress! Come on girls, you’re getting paid for this, do something!”

Sam couldn’t move or bend over in his corset. In fact, he could barely breathe. Alyne and Susan had to dress him. He was barely able to stand upright by himself. After they had his dress on him, they pushed him over backwards onto a little ottoman and slid on his stockings and shoes. Then the two of them pulled him up and stood him in front of the lights.

“Ok, Samantha, get over the corset incident. Give me some hip and smile for crying out loud!” And the photo shoot was engaged. Mary shouted instructions, demanded new positions and just when Sam thought he had it right, she walked away and started shooting Lisa. For the next two hours Mary was shouting orders, ignoring questions and pleas, demanding obedience and flashing cameras like weapons. And like weapons she did use her cameras. She even pushed Susan out of the way using one of her cameras.

“Break! Twenty minutes for potty and liquids, then I want you your asses back here immediately. Don’t cross me girls or I’ll drag you back here by your pretty hair! Claudia, why is her nose shining?” Mary was a whirlwind.

Mary was true to her word, twenty minutes later she grabbed Lisa by a hanging tendril of a curl and pulled her back into the studio. “How long does it take you to pee?” she demanded.

Eunice was watching the entire show, and even though she had reservations about Mary’s people skills, even she was laughing at times. Eunice was getting her money’s worth from Mary.

Sam went through his initial dresses without a bra or boobs. He felt naked wearing a dress without his breasts. It just didn’t seem right, but that was what Mary wanted. He was happy when they finished his fourth and moved onto his fifth dress. The fourth had a cowl neckline which camouflaged his boyish chest. But then Mary switched him over to a strapless dress that needed boobs. As strange as it seemed to Sam (and maybe the casual reader) he felt better with his boobs. Mary had Alyne insert first his smaller set, and then tried his larger pair.

A couple of weeks ago, if Sam had had an opinion between the two sets, he might have preferred the smaller set — especially in public. But now, he wanted the big boobs. Sam had finally figured out what most girls had known since they first started entering puberty; more bust was better. Sam was especially happy with his next dress, a halter style that begged for a large bust line. And it was a very pretty dress that Sam really liked. That is, if he were to actually like dresses, if he had to pick out one he liked … for someone else maybe … he liked this one. But then came the next, his one and only pink dress. It required smaller breasts, but it felt and looked even prettier. He wore a petticoat underneath, and that was … kind of … well maybe … fun. Oh hell, it felt really feminine and Sam liked it. Not that he was a girl or anything, but it made him feel especially pretty. Something about certain dresses just captivated his imagination and the feel and the spirit and attitude just felt correct. He wasn’t a girl, but he was starting to understand some things. He knew what looked good and what didn’t. Sam was learning.

Noon came and went. No sandwiches arrived, not even a cookie. Sam was starving. “Drink ice water, it’ll fill you up,” Mary told him. “We’re here to model dresses, not waddle in the trough.” Mary had a way with words. Eunice chuckled and Sam starved. As his waistline withered he knew they would have pulled his corset tighter if it wasn’t already pulled to its tightest. Sam knew for a fact … a FACT … that his waist hadn’t been this tiny since he was ten years old.

They moved onto more dresses and as the afternoon progressed Mary gave him nicer and nicer dresses. More lace and embroidery. More style and longer trains and more voluptuous bust lines. They just got better and better, and more fun, and … dare he say? … sexier. Sam was starving, and his waist felt like he was being cut in half, but he was having the time of his life. Sam wasn’t a girl, but he enjoyed pretending to be one in pretty wedding dresses.

Finally, as the clock was creeping up on five, Sam modeled his last dress. It had lots of lace around the bodice, a low cut to show off his wonderful bust (Mary got a little creative with her camera angles) shear, lacy sleeves and a veil. It was Sam’s one and only veil and he liked it. It was a new, higher level of couture for him. It took all of two minutes for him to decide he liked it.

Plus, he was finally allowed to sit for a pose. Man, his back ached! And he was going out to a charity event tonight? They better have some good chairs!

At five ten Eunice called quits. Mary would probably have gone another ten hours, but Lisa and Samantha had more important things to attend to now. Miss Eunice shut down the party and delivered Lisa and Sam’s evening gowns to them. Sam immediately decided that he liked his, but he liked Lisa’s better. Maybe because it was Lisa wearing the dress.

Sam had a gorgeous yellow, halter-style dress with silver crocheting around the bosom and waist. It was perfect camouflage for his corset … which by the way he managed to loosen just a little before Alyne helped him into his evening dress. The dress had an open back and didn’t allow the use of a bra. Sam was used to that, and his smaller breast forms were glued to his chest.

Lisa had an awesome red strapless dress. It had a large silver embroidered strap that went around the neck and held up the front of her dress. In the back it served the same purpose. It was nipped in at the waist and showed off Lisa’s feminine curves from bust to waist to hips. Lisa was a woman of exquisite beauty and Sam recognized that.

Susan and Bridgette revamped their makeup, converting them from the chapel to evening cocktail hour. The two girls were glamorous and beautiful. But Sam was wiped out. It was going to be a long evening for him — one that he would remember for a very long time.

Chas picked them up in front of the Hawthorne Building. Miss Mona and Miss Maggie were waiting for them. “Hungry?”

“And tired,” Sam said.

“Buck up girl, it’s going to be a long night then. We’ll get a light meal at Russo’s then go to the party. It starts at 7:30, so we will make a fashionably late arrival, and probably stay until ten or eleven.”

Russo’s was one of Miss Mona’s favorite restaurants, and she always received impeccable service. The four girls were only slightly over dressed for Russo’s, but that was acceptable. Sam and Lisa were both happy to sit and relax for a while. Cocktails consisted of soft drinks, which was just fine with everyone. Salads were ordered along with a couple of pass around appetizers. There would be plenty of hors d’oerves at the party.

While waiting for their salads, Maggie slid an envelope over to each girl. “From Miss Eunice. She says thank you for your efforts today.” Both girls reached for their purses but Maggie interrupted them. “Perhaps you should count that before you put it away.”

Sam discreetly opened the envelope and counted it on his lap. “$5000 in cash?” he asked incredulously.

Maggie gave him a nice smile and said, “Lisa talked with Miss Eunice today. She said that you were unhappy with your current compensation package.”

“I was only joking with Lisa. I didn’t mean it,” and he looked at his loot as if it would burn a hole in his lap.

“Well, Miss Eunice and Mary discussed the situation after today’s shoot, and they agreed that you were indeed pretty enough to qualify as a, how did she put it, “better than average” model.”

“Well thank you very much, and please tell Miss Eunice and Mary thank you also. I don’t know what I’m going to do with this much cash.”

“Spend it on yourself,” Mona said. “You deserve it.”

“But, just the logistics of handling this much cash is daunting. I’ve never had this much money in my entire life,” he said with just a little awe in his voice. “I can’t just leave it lying around my apartment.”

“Don’t you have a savings or checking account?” Mona asked.

“I have a tiny savings account, but the bank will probably think I’m selling drugs if I put this money in there. Plus, I don’t know how I … as a girl, can go deposit this money. I am sure they are going to want to know who is putting five thousand dollars into an account.”

Mona looked at Maggie and merely said, “Maggie?”

“Handled,” she said in reply. “I’ll have a bank account opened in your name on Monday. I’ll use one of our banks. Plus, we need to get you some additional identification. I’ll get you a Virginia driver’s license. Samantha, take out some spending money and give the rest to me. I’ll take care of everything.”

Sam began counting out some cash for himself, then handed the envelope over to Maggie. As he was placing his cash into his purse he asked, “Won’t I have to take a driver’s test next week?”

Maggie smiled that all-knowing smile of hers and said, “No. You know how to drive. We won’t bother you with such trivialities. Please give me your current license and I’ll handle everything.”

Sam handed over his license without thinking. He just gave away one of Sam’s few identification cards. First his school ID and now his driver’s license. Sam was disappearing and Samantha was taking over.

Mona spoke up, “There you go Samantha, Maggie will get you all set up. She can also handle any credit or debit cards if you want that. And if you don’t want to spend the money, I am sure Maggie can help with a good investment portfolio.”

“Thank you Miss Mona, this is all so very nice of you. And you too Miss Maggie. I feel like I am always imposing on you and asking for favors.”

“Hush Samantha,” Mona said. “We are very happy to help you anyway we can. Don’t ever hesitate to ask for anything, no matter how big or how small. Isn’t that right Maggie?”

“Absolutely. There is one other thing I would like to pass along. Mary was very happy with your work, and she thinks you have some wonderful upside potential for modeling. But she wanted to pass along a recommendation.”

“Ok.”

“Today’s shoot was primarily full size body profiles. In the future, for closer work she suggests that you consider some cosmetic surgery for your face.”

Sam didn’t like the sound of that. All he could think of was nose jobs and more feminization. No, he was sure he didn’t want to go there. “Like what?” he asked suspiciously. “A nose job or something?”

Maggie immediately heard the concern in Sam’s voice, and she adjusted her answer. “Actually, she did mention that, but she understands your situation. What she strongly suggested was complexion work. She mentioned that your micro-dermabrasion helped, but only a little. You might want to consider a facial peel.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a chemical peel that takes off the outer layers of your skin. The skin grows back smoother with lighter blemishes and freckles. It gives you a much nicer, cleaner complexion that is much more amenable to close-up photography. Plus, she thinks it will help reduce your pore size. That is very important for closer photo work.”

That didn’t sound so bad to Sam. Nicer skin wasn’t bad, and it wouldn’t make him irreversibly feminine looking. It was not like a nose job. “What does it require? Is it painful?”

“I’ll be honest, it isn’t painless, but isn’t real bad either. She didn’t recommend a deep peel, which can be a bit nastier. She recommended a “medium” peel using TCA. It leaves your face raw and red for several days. Sometimes at higher concentrations a crust will form on the skin, and that has to be cleaned off a few days later. It really depends on the girl.”

“How bad looking does it leave you? How long?”

“You would need to rest for about a week and a half. It depends on the person and the doctor.”

“Well …” and Sam was obviously having some doubts.

Lisa jumped in, “I was thinking about it myself.”

Maggie took up Lisa’s tactic. “Mary said that it would be good for you also, Lisa.” Maggie turned back to Sam and tried to put the topic away for the evening. The seed had been planted, and they could work it some more later. “It’s something to think about Samantha. We would of course take care of all expenses and we can find the best doctor for you. Just keep it in the back of your mind.”

“Ok.”

Salads were served and the next topic was introduced. This was going to be an interesting evening for Sam. The Hawthorns were going to begin reeling him further into their schemes for him. “Mother,” Lisa began, “after our ski trip I don’t think Samantha or I want another … misunderstanding. I received a call from Jeff. At our dinner party he invited Samantha and me up to New York. We would stay at his apartment.”

Mona put down her salad fork, placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands in front of her chin. She actually smiled and said, “Please go on, dear.” Sam was glancing between Lisa and Mona with a look of horror on his face. He didn’t know where Lisa was going with this, but Miss Mona scared the hell out of him.

“He has a four bedroom place. I promise you that Samantha and I would have separate bedrooms. He wants to show us around town, and he can get tickets to any show we want to see. He’ll escort us around town, and he wants to take us to a couple of very special restaurants. I think he wants to use as bragging material.” Lisa looked expectantly at her mother.

“Bragging material?”

“He wants to show some friends how pretty his girl friends are.”

Mona shifted her position and stared at Lisa, “I don’t think Samantha is interested in dating some guys.”

“Holy shit!” went through Sam’s mind. “Is that what she is planning?”

“Nor am I!” Lisa shot back. “I have my boyfriend and I am very satisfied with him. And that isn’t what this is about. He wants a couple of beautiful girls on his arm when we go out to eat and go to the shows. He is trying to establish himself in his new social circles and things aren’t moving as fast as he would like.” Lisa nodded towards Sam and smiled, “We’re the cavalry. That’s all. We just make all the Yankee girls jealous.”

Mona thought for a moment. “You will have separate bedrooms?”

“Of course.”

“Are you going to stay in your own rooms?” It was a challenge with a bit of attitude thrown in by Mona.

Lisa threw the attitude right back, and with a quiet but firm tone she said, “I will not make that promise.” Final, and no room for discussion.

Mona’s glare turned from Lisa to Sam. Sam slid down in his chair. This was all new to him and he had no time to prepare any comments for Miss Mona. He was going to get roasted, he just knew it. “I think we have had this conversation once already, have we not?”

Sam gulped. “Yes we did Miss Mona,” he answered as bravely as he could.

Mona looked at him for a few more seconds, then the corners of her mouth started turning upwards. “Then I don’t think we need to have it again.”

“Thank god,” Sam thought.

“Samantha, just do one thing for me.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Make sure those Yankee girls turn green with envy!”

“Yeah ma’am.” Few people have ever felt the thrill of relief that washed over Sam.

Maggie turned to Lisa, “When are you going?”

“Can we fly up this coming Friday afternoon?”

“I’ll make the arrangements. Which airport will you fly into?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask Jeff.”

“And when will you return?”

“Sunday evening or Monday morning.”

“I have the number two reserved for Monday morning,” Mona said.

“And Miss Michelle almost always has the number one on Monday. But she flies into LaGuardia. I don’t see why the jet couldn’t take you girls back to school Monday morning, then return for Miss Michelle at her usual time in the evening,” Maggie added.

Sam couldn’t help himself, “You have two jets?”

“Actually we have three, but the third is hangared in Hong Kong.”

Salads were done and they were finishing up some scampi. It was time to take Sam to the next topic. Sam was being given a full blitz this evening. First he was tempted with money, next with travel and now with power. They were giving Sam multiple reasons to become a Hawthorne. Mona spoke to Sam, “Samantha, let’s discuss tonight. Your job tonight is watch, listen and learn. I want you to say almost nothing. In fact, don’t even talk when you are introduced to other guests. Smile and say nothing. If they ask you a direct question, I will answer. If I want you to speak, I will tell you.

“Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to hold you back, rather I am trying to establish an image for you. I want everyone to think you are watching and measuring them. I want to use this evening to give you an image of intimidation. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“This is going to be a little tricky. Interns usually don’t garner respect from these power brokers. We’ll see if we can’t change that.”

“Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“When we leave here, use your vocal spray once. When we get there, use it once more. I want your voice very hoarse for tonight. I might use that if I need to. When we get there, I want you on my arm at all times. If you need to go pee, we go together. We are going to be inseparable. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Maggie and Lisa are on their own, they can wander as they please. You and I will take the center stage. Can you handle the lights?”

“I hope so. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there with you the entire time. Trust me, I can handle anything.”

“Yes ma’am.” Of course Sam trusted her for that. He had seen her in action ... too many times already in their short acquaintance.

“Accept no food, no drinks or even a handshake unless I accept it first. Don’t speak unless I introduce you, otherwise you look through people. When you shake hands, give them a very loose and soft hand. Give them three or four fingers if you can maneuver it. Make them feel as if they don’t deserve a firm hand. People are going to approach you hoping to get to me. Turn your nose up and look away. I mean that, be rude, because they are being rude by not coming to me first. Ok?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a little smile.

“Why are you smiling?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry Miss Mona. I’ve never been given permission to be snotty. I might like it.” He paused for a moment then said, “I’m sorry. That’s very pretentious of me.”

Mona studied him for a second and nodded her approval. “No, that’s not pretentious. That is exactly what I want you to do. In fact, if just one opportunity arises for you to royally snub someone, take it. We can use it later. Remember, I want to establish an atmosphere around you. I want people on Monday asking, “Who the hell is Mona’s new intern? She’s got Mona’s ear. She’s got the power.”.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ok then, any questions? If there are any questions later, you ask me. Don’t assume anything tonight.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Maggie, let’s settle up. Call Chas please.”

“Oh ma’am, I do have one question? How do I address you?”

“Miss Mona. Nothing else.”

“Yes ma’am.” Wow, Sam was actually looking forward to this. With Miss Mona protecting him he was going to be sitting pretty. Sam’s exhaustion was forgotten. His energy level was up and he was thinking this might be fun.

Chas opened the door to the limo and Miss Mona stepped out first. She offered her hand to Sam to help him out of the car. Mona held his hand and she realized it wasn’t as soft as a real girl’s. She would have to have Lisa set Sam up for hand waxes and softening. “Stay one step behind, Samantha.” Mona and Sam walked into the hall with Lisa and Maggie far behind. The two groups of girls were now separated for the rest of the evening.

Mona surveyed the hall and picked out her spot. “This way,” she said as she took Sam across the hall to a spot away from food and doors. People wanting to meet Miss Mona would have to walk across the room where she and Sam could see them coming.

“Remember Samantha, the first group of people to come to us are the most desperate. They will be the little fish so we toss them back. Practice your indifference on them. It won’t be for fifteen or twenty minutes before the true power brokers come to see us. Watch them and listen. It’s not what they say sometimes, but how they say it, how they stand when they say it and of course what they don’t say. Nobody would dare lie to me, at least they better not, but they might try to mislead by omission. Think of that when listening to them.

“Ok my beautiful intern, are you ready?”

“Yes.” Sam was excited.

“Oh, keep your purse in your right hand. It gives you another reason to ignore handshakes when you want to. Got it?”

Sam smiled. Miss Mona’s tricks truly amazed him.

Miss Mona nodded towards a well dressed woman coming towards them. Mona turned her back to the woman and addressed Sam, “This woman runs this show. She is a rich socialite that thinks she has the ear of a few senators. She’s an insignificant snob in this town.”

“Miss Hawthorne, welcome to our event. I appreciate your unselfish support,” and she offered her hand to Mona.

Mona Hawthorne merely looked at the woman with no recognition. She said nothing and showed no emotion.

“I’m sorry, I’m Sylvia Hampton, the president of the charity.”

“Yes.” Mona offered her hand and they shook. She said no more.

The woman didn’t seem to get the message. “Having you here is a wonderful coup for us. So many people follow your lead on these things.”

“I think most people can think for themselves.”

“Well, of course they can. But people always look to the leaders in our community.” Mona remained impassive. “Will you be making a donation for the children?”

Mona smiled, “Of course I will. I would never impose upon your hospitality without making some token of reciprocation.” It was said as if to insinuate an insult had been received. “I’ll have my intern take care of it on Monday.”

Mona turned to Sam and said, “Please handle that for me.”

“Yes Miss Mona.”

Mona said no more and Sylvia became nervous standing in front of her. “Well, thank you for coming. Please enjoy yourself.”

As Mrs. Hampton left Mona turned to Sam, “Samantha, I think she is thrilled to have us here.” Sam couldn’t help but smile. “See the couple walking towards Maggie and Lisa? He’s in a tux and she has the too short black dress?”

“Yes ma’am. I see them.”

“We will see them shortly. They are going to Maggie to see if they can pick up a tidbit to use when they come talk to us. They probably want to know who you are. She runs a consumer protection group that is under the delusion that like them I believe in recalling some unsafe baby cribs.”

“But is that so bad, Miss Mona?” Sam asked with honest curiosity.

“These people believe without regard to repercussions and side effects. Take her husband for example. He lobbies for the auto industry. He wants my help in turning back CAFá‰ limits. It will save American jobs, and he is correct; temporarily. Every time he convinces Congress to delay those limits, the Japanese get another step up on the Americans. And in addition, another billion dollars goes to some Middle East Sultan who supports terrorists.

“Half the people here believe in what they do. And they don’t worry about the big picture.”

“What about the other half?”

Mona smiled at Sam, “They’re either lobbyists or elected officials. They believe what you and I pay them to believe.”

“Wow!” Sam thought. “Miss Mona tells it like it is.”

“This next guy is a mercenary. I’ve used him before.”

The man walking over was very rugged and good looking. He was tall, thin like a runner and had beautiful blue eyes. “Miss Mona, I am surprised to see you here. But it is always a treat to see you. You look lovely as always.”

Mona offered her hand and said, “Matt, you are always the rogue. Are you here to stir up trouble?”

“No ma’am, I don’t do that. I am merely here to renew old friendships.”

“Sorry Matt. I have nothing for you.”

“This economy is killing me.”

“Maybe you should tone down your lifestyle.”

Matt laughed. “Not a chance. So if business is concluded, who may I ask is this vision behind you?”

“You may ask.” Mona stood her ground. Matt stood his ground with a big smile. He was every bit Mona’s equal — for a moment. “She is my newest intern. I have the utmost faith in her abilities and loyalty. You may tell others.”

Matt kept his smile and said, “Your wish is my command. It was nice meeting you, Miss Intern,” he said to Sam as he walked away.

Mona turned to Sam and he asked, “Mercenary?”

“Self employed and works for whoever pays him. He has no loyalty.”

“What does he do?”

“Everything and anything. He is not someone you want to deal with Samantha. Leave him to me.”

The two of tem turned back to the ball. Mona pointed out one or two people, and predicted they would stop by later. “Look at this,” Mona said with an incredulous voice. Entering the hall was Senator May and Florence. He didn’t take ten steps into the hall when a young man walked up to the senator. The Senator quickly glanced around the hall, then pulled Florence out the door behind him. Mona laughed and said, “I think he just found out there are some unexpected guests here this evening.”

“You?”

“And you as well. Congratulations Samantha. You have intimidated a United States Senator.”

Sam chuckled, “I think it was more you than me.”

Mona agreed.

Sam looked around for Lisa. He found her just as a familiar woman walked up and gave Maggie a big hug. It took Sam a moment to identify the woman, she was Jillian from the salon. “That’s interesting,” he thought. “Two girls from the salon …” and a thought popped into his head.

And then another girl, this time it was Olivia. “Hmmm, that’s really interesting,” he said out loud.

“What’s that?”

“There are, or were 3 girls from the salon. Florence was with senator May, and now two others are talking with Miss Maggie and Lisa.” Sam paused before he asked his next question. He wasn’t sure if he should ask, but he really was curious. “At your dinner party Gloria said that Florence was an escort.”

Mona suspected what was coming and she was thinking as fast as she could. “Gloria often says insensitive things.”

“Do the other two, I think they are Jillian and Olivia, do they also … date … ?”

Mona interrupted, “The salon hires the most talented and beautiful girls they can find. These girls also have their own private lives. Now back to business. The warm up is over; we will now start meeting some interesting people.”

“Yes Miss Mona.” The subject was changed.

Sam met his first congressman of the night, and most interesting was his date: another salon beautician. The girl was the Thai girl, Gina. “Are all the girls here from the salon?” he asked himself. As the two approached Miss Mona, Gina gave no indication that she knew either Mona or Sam.

Pleasantries were exchanged, and this time Mona introduced Sam. “Congressman, this is my intern Samantha Springer.” The congressman extended his hand and Sam gave him his loosest grip possible.

“This is my friend Gina,” the congressman said. Gina extended her hand, they shook, exchanged smiles, and neither said a word nor acknowledged their prior acquaintance. Gina took a step back from the group and allowed the congressman and Miss Mona to speak quietly. She acted like she expected Sam to step away also, but Sam stayed rooted to his spot.

Sam understood very little of what they said. They talked about Glass and Steagall. Mona was asking for some changes in a bill and the congressman was clarifying details. It sounded like high finance. They talked for several minutes while other guests milled around their perimeter. Others wanted to talk with Mona. When the congressman left, Mona turned her back and the others held back. They knew she was giving instructions to her intern, and they didn’t want to interrupt.

“So?”

“I have no idea what you were talking about. It has something to do with banks and international and the monetary … what?”

“It’s an old law that we killed several years back, and now thanks to some idiot derivative fund managers, it might come back. Its main purpose is to separate commercial from investment banks. We don’t want that.”

“Miss Maggie mentioned “our” bank at dinner tonight. So that means you are involved in banking and this affects your business.”

“Correct, but the Hawthorne family isn’t just involved in banking, we’re as intimate as you can get.”

“Is it a large part of your business? Along with clothing and stuff?”

“Others are waiting, so I’ll make this quick. Over 90% of our net worth is tied up in banking. Miss Grace and Michelle, Lisa’s aunt, are absolute wizards in the international banking arena. The other areas we are involved in are mere hobbies. Miss Eunice, along with her sailing, loves women’s couture. She runs our women’s retailing business because she likes it.

“Maggie has her antique cars but she also likes electronics. She runs around the world looking for new toys. She runs an electronics wholesaling organization. Serena gets involved in gems and precious metals. And on it goes. If you were to join our family, and if you liked helicopters, you could start a helicopter business.

“But banking runs the family. When Michelle needs something she tells me and I work it through our political contacts. Ok? Others are waiting.”

“Amazing,” Sam said as Mona turned back to her audience.

The pecking order in front of Mona had been settled. A senior senator wanted to talk with her. Something brief he said. Mona made a point of introducing the senator to Samantha, and not the other way around. The topic was health care and the insurance companies. As far as Sam could determine, the bill was “neutered” and the insurance industry was going to make obscene amounts of money.

The senator left and Mona immediately turned to Sam, “Did you notice his hands?”

“No.”

“His right hand gets very animated when he thinks he has taken control. When he puts it in his pocket he knows he is in a weak position. The man couldn’t bluff if his life depended on it.”

“That was about health care, right?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Why are you against it?”

Mona was sure she knew where Sam was coming from; help the poor and unfortunate and all that. “It’s a grand idea, but it will cost the government tons of money. And guess where that money will come from? No matter what form it takes, it has to come from people who have it to begin with. We will get hammered — guaranteed. And for what? If people want health care they can get it. They can do it through work, medicare, social security, they have all kinds of options. And if nothing else, they have the emergency rooms as a last resort. Understand?”

Sam turned away and mumbled something. “Samantha, what did you say?”

Sam turned around and said, “Emergency rooms. That’s where my mother died.”

For once Mona was speechless. She looked around at the people waiting to talk with her. She returned her attention to Sam, and took him by the arm. They walked away from the group of people. They stopped in a quieter spot and Mona said, “Samantha, what happened?”

“I don’t really know, I was only eleven. All I know is she was really sick, but we didn’t have a doctor. She finally got so bad, that we walked to the emergency room. We waited an hour and she fell asleep. I didn’t know any better, so I sat there reading. They finally called her name, but I couldn’t wake her up. The rest is really fuzzy.”

“What happened next?”

“There were lots of tiny rooms and doctors and even the police. They wanted to take me away. I thought they were going to take me to jail — hey I was only eleven. So I snuck out and went home.”

“Your dad took care of you then?”

“I never knew my dad. Mom and I lived alone on the second floor of this little house. The family downstairs was really nice to us. I was the same age as one of their kids and we played together all the time. They hid me from the police. Then a year or so later I was able to stay there. They became my foster parents.”

“Didn’t you have any other relatives?”

“I don’t think so.” Sam related the entire story with little emotion. It had been a long time ago.

Mona looked around and found Maggie and Lisa. “Come on, we’re going home.” She again took Sam’s arm and led him to Lisa. “Court is over. I’m tired. Let’s go home.” As they walked out Mona pulled Maggie aside, “I want a complete run down on Samantha’s family and history, ASAP.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you at home.”

CHAPTER 29

Sunday morning Lisa and Sam went riding. Once again, Sam was given a riding skirt to wear. That went along with his white blouse under which he wore his brassiere and small breast forms. He had washed his hair, so it was down and once again full of tight curls. They did a bit of jumping and Lisa showed Sam a complicated maneuver called a pesag to try with Abigail. Then they went riding on one of the bridal paths. Side by side they walked along, talking like two lovers.

“Lisa, can I ask you something?”

“Of course Samantha.”

“Why do you always want me to be Samantha?”

“Huh?”

“Why do I have to wear a riding skirt — a skirt that girls wear? Why can’t I wear jeans?”

“Because Harriet doesn’t have any jeans.”

“You do. I could wear yours.”

“Do you remember what happened the last time you wore my jeans?”

“I’ve lost some weight. They would fit me much better now. And I know how to tuck. But more important, your mother never sees us riding.” Lisa didn’t answer right away, so Sam pushed further. “Everyone in your family wants me to be a girl. Why? What would you father think if he met me dressed as a girl?”

“He has seen you. He has seen your pictures. He doesn’t have any problem with you being dressed up so nicely.”

“Then it is unanimous. Everyone in your family wants to turn me into a girl. Why?”

“That’s not true Sam.”

“That’s the first time that you have called me Sam in days. Every conversation I have with Miss Mona or Miss Maggie is about cross dressing. Micro-dermabrasion, facial peels, hair styles, makeup and yesterday your mother picked out a dress for me to wear to her charity party. You take me to parties to meet the rest of your family, and you insist that I dress up fancy as a girl. I don’t get it. What’s going on Lisa?”

Lisa’s mind was flying a mile a minute. She wanted to put the whole situation on hold while she called her mother. She had to turn this conversation towards something else, somehow. Think! Think!

“I have really enjoyed the last four weeks with you Sam. It’s been the best time in my entire life. Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“That’s not the question. The question is why turn me into a girl?”

“Then you have not enjoyed our time together?”

“Of course I have. I never said that I didn’t. But I don’t understand what is happening here. No one turns a boy into a girl unless there is some ulterior motive. What is it Lisa?”

“Sam! There is no ulterior motive. I … like you. I like both Sam and Samantha. When Miss Grace asked you to dress as a girl for the dinner party, I was really pissed at her. And I was afraid that she was going to chase you away. But then you said yes. At first I was surprised, but then I was proud. And that’s when I knew that you liked me as much as I liked you.

“And you were really pretty Sam. You put so much effort into your project, that … you caught us by surprise. We never expected you to try so hard and be so successful. We naturally came to the conclusion that you enjoyed being Samantha.”

“I did that for you. I did that for us. I had no interest in dressing and acting like a girl. I didn’t want to become a girl. But here I am. Why?”

“Well, one reason is I … Maggie too … got the impression at the party, and afterwards when we were talking in the kitchen, that you liked it. You agreed to continue to keep dressing like a girl for the rest of the semester.”

“But the only reason I did that was so we could go skiing together. And at the time, I was thinking it was for only a week.”

“And sleep together, don’t forget that.”

“Lisa, please don’t think I did any of this as a scam to get in your panties. Please don’t think that. I respect you way too much for that. I love being with you and sex with you is phenomenal. And don’t get me wrong, I would never turn you down. But no, I would never scheme or lie to get you into bed. I respect you too much, and … you intimidate me too much for that.”

“I intimidate you?”

“Yes, I have to admit that you and your family and your money and especially your mother, you intimidate me. I don’t belong here with you people. I’m a speck on the social register of life, while you people own it.”

Lisa brought them to a halt and they faced each other. “I don’t want to intimidate you. And I hope you aren’t doing any of this because you are intimidated by me. Remember when we first started dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Did I ever tell you that I was rich?”

“No, you were just a normal college girl. Well except for how pretty you are. You are way above normal there.”

“That’s sweet Sam, but you don’t have to try and suck up. I want you to know what I … I and my family think of you. But first, remember when you came home with me? You had no idea that I lived like this, did you? And I told you it was because I didn’t want to intimidate you. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“I brought you home because I really liked you, and I thought you liked me too.”

“But I did, I do.”

“I know that now. But at the time I was worried. And I was especially worried when Miss Grace asked you to dress up as my roommate. But when I saw you, when I saw how hard you tried … well those two things came together in my mind. I thought you made a beautiful girl and I thought … really, I thought you enjoyed it.

“And then we had sex. I was a virgin and girls just dream about their first time. And our first time was fantastic Sam. It was more than I had hoped for. You don’t know how apprehensive I was. But then the next night, something was different. I watched you all evening and I saw how nice you looked and how well you did everything, and what you did with the senator just … well it blew me away.

“I became convinced that you were having the time of your life. So did mom and Miss Grace. I talked with them during the party and we just marveled at you. Even Maggie was overwhelmed. And then the weirdest part happened, although I no longer think it was weird at all. My eyes were opened by you that night.

“Like any girl, my entire life I have had these preconceived ideas about me and boys and someday a husband. And from birth everyone is inculcated with society’s and their family’s attitudes towards the sexes. But that night everything changed. As the night went along you became more and more beautiful in my mind. By the tine the party was over, I wanted you in the most primal and sexual way you can possibly imagine.

“But it was Samantha that I wanted. It wasn’t anything against Sam the man, but I wanted Samantha, that gorgeous and feminine vision in the dress. Sam, I know that you think some of the things we have done are just a bit kinky, but trust me, I am not that way. I don’t want to be with a girl. I don’t want the plumbing that a girl has, I want a man. But I wanted you in that dress. In the strongest way that you can imagine I wanted you.

“And the second time in my life that I had intercourse was way beyond my first experience. I felt that I had grown up and matured. That night, I think I fell in love with Samantha.

“So, I guess that I have pushed you towards Samantha and away from Sam. And so has my family, but please don’t blame them. Blame me. My mind was really going weird after that weekend, and with you still in Samantha mode, I just sort of lost my bearings. I confessed to mom how I felt.

“She totally understood. It was amazing. And Miss Grace and Maggie. And Miss Eunice, they all totally accepted how I felt. And even better, they accepted you. We were all convinced that you too were happy as Samantha, and so we pulled out all the stops for you, and me.”

Sam looked at Lisa for several moments. “So you have been pushing me. You want me to be a girl.”

“No! I do not want you to be a girl. But … I want you to pretend to be a girl. I want you as the beautiful Samantha on the outside, but I want Sam in the boudoir.”

“You said that you liked me as … feminine and soft when we made love. You said that you wanted me to have breasts. Doesn’t that mean you really want a girl in bed?”

“No, no, no! To be a bit crude, I want your penis in me when we make love. But I have changed my attitude towards the sexes in the last weeks. I always thought I wanted a strong, take command, macho man to mount me. But I have found something far, far better than that. I have discovered the soft touch of a man. I have found you … you and Samantha. I will never go back to what I thought I wanted. And I think …” Lisa let the thought drop.

“But the comment about breasts. Isn’t that a girl? Don’t you want me turned into a girl?”

“No Sam. I want all the beauty and sexuality of Samantha, but with your penis. Oh Sam!” Lisa began crying. “I can’t explain this very well. All I know is that I love both Sam and Samantha. I want both of you. I’m so confused.” And she continued crying.

Sam nudged Abigail along until they were side by side with Lisa and Cinnamon. He reached over and took Lisa’s hand. “So that is why you want me to become a girl?”

“I want you to look like a girl. And I really, really thought that you wanted it too. You always went along with what I suggested; clothes and makeup and hair. You seemed so happy with me.”

Sam sighed, “I am happy with you Lisa. I have never liked anyone as much as I like you.” Lisa wiped away her tears and Sam took a deep breath. “I have enjoyed being a girl. It is kind of fun at times. And at other times it scares me. It makes me really question who and what I am. I’m not sure that I should be doing this. But when I am with you, I don’t care as much, I don’t worry as much. I accept it.

“And you pushing … helping me along just confused me more. I couldn’t understand what you wanted with me as a girl. I couldn’t understand what you were doing to me or why. And your family was pushing also. It seemed like a conspiracy against me.

“But I think I understand now.”

“I hope so,” Lisa said quietly.

“So what do we do now?”

“Let’s ride forward. Can we just continue to enjoy each other?”

“As Sam or Samantha?”

“Both?”

Sam said nothing. He nudged Abigail around so he was heading the same direction as Lisa. He looked into her eyes and asked, “Is that what you want?”

“With all my heart.”

“And your family is ok with this?” he asked, still finding it incredulous.

“They want you and me to be happy.”

“Then I guess it is as both. For a while,” he added.

“Forever,” Lisa said to herself.

Bill couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sam was spilling his guts and Bill sat there, his mouth open, soaking it all in. “Fantastic.” “Phenomenal.” “My god!” “You lucky son of a bitch.” And a few “Holy shits” thrown in for good measure. Sam held nothing back. He told Bill about the modeling, the charity ball and then his discussion on the bridle path.

“I would do anything to be in your shoes, Sam. Just give me one day. Please?”

“Sorry, I’m not about to trade. As weird as this thing is, I kind of like it. It sure as hell has been educational.”

“And this morning you went to the beauty parlor again? What was the hand wax like?”

Sam smiled, “Gooey. First she took this pumice stone and abraded away the calluses on my hands, see?”

Bill took his hand and felt it. “It is soft. It doesn’t feel like a guy’s hand, that’s for sure.”

“I guess. I have to use this pumice stone myself, once per day. But anyway, then she filled these plastic gloves with a bunch of emollients and softeners and I don’t know what all. I put those on, then I slid them into these large pads that looked like big oven mitts. They were heated and after a while my hands actually got pretty warm. But it was really gooey and squishy.

“So I had to sit there for about an hour while she did her laser work. When she was done with that, she took off the gloves and wiped the goo off my hands, than massaged them for another ten or fifteen minute. That actually felt very nice. And that was it.”

Bill looked at Sam for a minute then asked, “You live in an apartment all by yourself. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Sam, would it be possible for me to come by sometime and you could show me how to put on makeup? I’ll give you money to buy the makeup and you could keep it there. Please?”

Sam didn’t know how to answer. “I don’t know. Really. Lisa stops by a couple of times a week, and we go out shopping and dining other nights. And this Friday, well you know; New York!”

“I could come over whenever you say. Morning noon or night. I’ll skip every class I have. Just once? Please? I can’t do it myself. I have no other place I can go. I’d pay you.”

“No you wouldn’t, that wouldn’t be necessary. But I just don’t know. I’m not sure what would happen if Lisa found out.”

“I won’t tell,” he said with a big smile.

“Let me think about it, ok?”

“Thank you Sam! Thank you!”

“Lisa, it’s your mom.”

“I know mom. Your name comes up on my cell before I even answer the phone.”

“I’ll never understand this new electronic stuff,” she said.

“I know mom, especially since you let your executive secretary do everything for you.”

“That’s her job. I have more important things to do. But that’s not why I called. I got Dr. Ratchet’s report.”

Lisa’s attention jumped up another notch. Finally, she would be able to get going on Sam’s hormone treatment. “And? Will she prescribe the hormones now?”

“She had some good news and some bad news.”

“What do you mean; bad news? Can I start Sam on hormones or not?”

“Yes dear, you can. That is the good news. The doctor has a complete workup on Sam, and she is ready to begin his hormone therapy … if we want.”

“Ok, so what is the bad news?”

“Sam’s semen sample has a low sperm count.”

“What does that mean? How does that impact us?”

“It means that Dr. Ratchet thinks his sperm count is borderline for getting you pregnant.”

“I don’t understand mother. I can’t use his sperm to get pregnant someday? Is it that low? How low is low? Mother!”

“The doctor thinks his sperm count is borderline; it may or may not be enough to get you pregnant. I talked with her about the full situation and I told her everything; I mentioned the anti-androgens and the 24 hour a day tucking.

“The good news is that after hearing everything, she thinks our moves are responsible for his current low count. If we back off what we are doing, his count should come back up in 3 to 6 weeks.”

“But mom, that is like going backwards. If we take away the anti-androgens and the tucking, his testosterone level will go back up and his secondary sexual characteristics will begin growing again. We just got his facial hair depilated. I don’t want to go back and start over. His HRT won’t work as well when we do start it. Mom, this won’t work!” Lisa was whining.

Mona understood her daughter’s concern. “I know sweetheart, but let’s look at this logically and with a cool head. You do want to have children someday right?”

“Yeah, but …”

“Yes. And I want grandchildren. We both agree. And you do want Sam to be the father, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“And I do also. He is a pretty boy and I would love to have him father children with you. So here is the situation, your chances of getting pregnant by Sam are only fifty-fifty. Additional milkings are not going to change the situation. If anything, his sperm count is going to continue to drop.”

“So what do I do?”

“I agree with the doctor on this one. We drop back and try to get his sperm count up. We monitor him on a two or three week cycle, and as soon as we can collect good sperm, we start him on his hormones and full feminization schedule.”

“But that is going backwards!”

Lisa was starting to get hysterical and Mona had to calm her down. “Lisa, listen to me. It is temporary and won’t take much time at all. The doctor thinks we can have him back to a high enough level in only 3 to 6 weeks. By then he might be ready to go to Mistress Ann, and we can start full transformation therapy. It won’t take that long, and the consequences of waiting will be minimal. The doctor agrees.”

Lisa sighed. “Everything was going so well, and now this comes along.”

“Lisa sweetheart, don’t be discouraged. Nothing ever goes perfect. If you can’t handle a little set back like this, you’re never going to become President. Stuff happens dear. Right?”

Lisa took a deep breath. “You are right mother. Yes, I do want Sam’s children. They will have the best chance of having the right genes for giving me pretty daughters.”

“And giving me pretty granddaughters. I pray you have daughters dear, but if you do have sons, Sam’s genes have the best chance of giving you petite boys with suitable bone structure and size.”

Lisa was rational again. “Ok mom, my little hissy fit is over. What should we do?”

“Stop his anti-androgens. Put him on real vitamins for the next several weeks. Tell him that the doctor thinks he has an iron deficiency and by changing to a new vitamin his energy level will pick up. Everyone wants more energy.”

“Which vitamin do I get for him?”

“It doesn’t matter, they all claim they will cure iron deficiency. And then he needs to stop tucking full time.”

“He has to tuck. Even with a dress or skirt his penis will bulge enough to be noticeable.”

“I know, and I asked the doctor if it would be necessary to stop all tucking. She said that would be best. But eliminating his nightly tucking might be enough. The monitoring will tell us that.”

“But I hate to quit any tucking at all. It gives him the impression that he can pick and choose which rules he wants to follow. I’m afraid if we relax tucking rules, he might want to reduce his tightlacing regimen.”

“I understand perfectly. Your grandmother and I have discussed all of this. We think you have to present this in a different way. Here is our idea, and tell me what you think. You know the boy the best. Switch him from negligees and babydolls to something with tap pants or French knickers for the evening. Give him something that he would consider at least as feminine, and maybe more so. Go for more lace and silk and frilly additives. With tap pants there is no way he can tuck, without adding a panty girdle or something. So what if you give him the chance to be more feminine and not have to tuck at night?”

Lisa thought for several moments. “It depends on how I manipulate him and the situation.”

“You can do it, dear.”

“Of course I can. I own mon petite le garcon.”

CHAPTER 30

Lisa reached up to the higher shelf and took down a random bottle. She quickly scanned the label until she found what she was looking for. “See here, restores blood iron deficiencies.” This is what you want to use for the next couple of weeks. It will be interesting to see if it really helps your energy level or not.”

“And that is all she said? Just a little iron deficiency?”

“Yep. But you need to go back in a couple of weeks for another quick exam, just to make sure everything is back to normal.”

“Well I guess that is ok.”

“Of course it is. Now, let’s go do some real shopping. Let’s see if we can find anything interesting for New York.”

“What are we going to do there?”

“Dinner and shows for sure. Jeff is still checking on what shows he can get and when. Definitely some shopping. I’d like to check out a salon that Aunt Michelle loves. And whatever else catches our fancy.”

Lisa hustled Sam towards Victoria’s Secret and their sleepwear. “Why do we always end up here?” Sam asked facetiously.

“Because it is my … our favorite store.”

“Why?” Sam asked seriously.

“Why?” Lisa stopped them just inside the front door. “Breathe in the scents and aroma. Smell the fragrances. They are a wonderful concoction. Listen; the soft background music but more importantly, the talking in the background. Soft voices with no harsh yelling or squealing or macho posturing. Now, just look at the store as a whole. Don’t look at a single item but take in the entire panorama of colors. Soft colors from white and beige all the way to vibrant pinks and reds. And then look at this, this single item,” Lisa said as she picked up the hem of a camisole. “Feel the softness, the drape of the material and the sheer coolness it imparts to the hand.

“And then there are the individual clothing items. Everything for underneath; lingerie from panties and stockings to every kind of brassier you can imagine. Then the next layer; silky and satiny camisoles and slips and even shaping foundations. And finally, the sleepwear, including the super sexy negligees, baby dolls and sheer robes. Everything to make one happy and content from the inside to the outside.”

“And sexy, right?”

“But of course, my silly friend.”

“And so why am I here?”

“Because you have such a wonderful talent, a discerning eye and discriminating taste. Together, you and I find such wonderful items for the two of us.”

“Sexy things, right? For us?”

“Yes!”

“Soft and feminine, right? For both of us, right?”

Lisa could see where this was going. Sam had such a hang up with his feminization. “Just accept it and be happy for the rest of your life,” she said to herself. “I’ll take care of you and give you anything you want in return. What could be better than to be a kept concubine, belonging to a beautiful and rich woman? A life of leisure and sybaritic pleasures awaits your acceptance and transformation. I’ll even take you to the White House with me. You can be my First Lady.”

“Samantha.” Lisa pleaded softly.

“There is only one thing wrong here. I’m not a girl.” Sam wasn’t protesting as much as he was pointing out an obvious fact. Maybe inside Sam’s stubborn mind, he was accepting things just a little. But he couldn’t accept his fate without mounting at least a token battle. If for no one else than himself, he had to try and fully, completely and totally rationalize his fate. Somehow, if he succumbed to this feminization without mounting an adequate battle, he might never be able to forgive himself. He would be letting down the males of his species; the males that were supposed to dominate and control the weaker half. Not the other way around.

“But you are a girl. In a way you are. On the outside you are a very beautiful girl. To me you are. And on the inside, you are a beautiful boy; sexy and desirable in the most primal and passionate and emotional sense possible. Yes, you are both to me.

“And I have explained this to you before. Your external beauty is only half of who you are, but it is a most wonderful and desirable half. The visualization of your beauty makes me that much more desirous for your inner self, and sexuality.”

“Sometimes I feel that I don’t have the ability to express myself adequately,” Sam complained. “You say things with such conviction that it sounds like you have been practicing these speeches for years, while I can’t even convince myself. Lisa, it just seems wrong somehow. My gut tells me that I shouldn’t be wearing dresses and lipstick and brassieres. I’m a male, not a female.”

Lisa took Sam’s hand and they walked out of the store. They slowly strode down the promenade of the mall while both were thinking over their situation. They walked past several fountains and kiosks in silence. Finally, Lisa broke the silence, “Sam, do you mind wearing a dress and looking pretty? I mean, put aside the fact that you are a boy and boys aren’t supposed to wear dresses. Does it really bother you? Do you hate it? Does it hurt you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Because I don’t think you do hate it. I’ve now seen you in a dress many times. You are so beautiful that everyone that sees you loves you. No one thinks of you as a boy. They see this pretty image that you project and they like you. They open doors for you and they talk with you and smile at you. Boys and girls both hit on you.

“Ever since you were a little boy, society has put ideas in your head, and society has said this is how it has to be. No exceptions, just total, blind obedience. But that doesn’t make it right. And it doesn’t define you, not who you really are. If you can break away from the dogma that has saturated your existence since you were a toddler, then you can look at this with an open and free mind.

“Everyone around you accepts who you are, Sam … and Samantha. So you don’t have to concern yourself with anyone but yourself. What do YOU feel? Is it so wrong to be doing what you are doing? To dress in a way that makes you happy, is that wrong? Does that make you less of a man? Because I don’t think so.

“I am in … I think I am in love with you. But I am in love with both Sam and Samantha. I love you inside and outside. I love to be with the pretty Samantha, but I make love to the pretty Sam. I make love to the male, the man called Sam. I can live with that. Can you?”

“I just don’t know, Lisa.”

“What is the problem, Sam? Be honest with me, and with you. What exactly is it that bothers you? Because it sounds to me like you are more worried about some nebulous idea about how it is supposed to be, rather than how it really is. Life isn’t black and white, and neither are the sexes. If people were truly open and honest, I think a lot of people would agree with us.”

Sam stopped and thought about Bill. Bill would kill to be in Sam’s shoes … Samantha’s heels. Lisa was right, of course. Sam was more worried about what others thought, than what he thought. He was losing the argument, and he wasn’t sure that was so bad. But … but … damn it! He wasn’t a girl. He wasn’t a female. He was down to his last argument.

“But the bottom line is I’m not a girl! I am not female.”

“No one has said you are female. When I have you between my legs you are not female. That is when I am female and you are male. But the rest of the time, the best of times, you and I are both girls. Yes, Samantha, we are girls. And let’s be honest, we are good at it! No more bullshit Samantha, you make a beautiful girl and I make a beautiful girl! And I don’t think you could be so damn beautiful if you didn’t have the correct frame of mind — if you weren’t really trying mentally and emotionally to be as beautiful as possible. Because it would show, and I don’t see it showing.”

Lisa could feel that she was winning. In fact, this might be the last time she would have to have this discussion with this amount of passion. Mona had told her daughter many, many times that the conversion of her boy would have its up and downs. There would be many discussions like this. Not until the final day for both of them would there be a finality to this discussion. Even Maggie still had her occasional doubts. But there would be a turning point. Sam was close to that point. Could this be the day?

“We’re good at this and because we’re so good, we will always produce envy and jealousy in others. But that is their problem, not ours. With your beauty, grace and even femininity no one has the right to tell you that you don’t deserve this life, or that you shouldn’t be allowed to have this life. This life style belongs to you Samantha and you deserve it. Me, my family and our money can make sure that no one, and I mean no one can take it away from you. And I swear, I’ll make sure that no one ever hurts you. Ever! That is my solemn promise to you. Both of you; Sam and Samantha.”

Sam realized that the discussion was over. And he hadn’t lost. Samantha had won, and that wasn’t so bad. He smiled and reached for Lisa. They hugged like intimate lovers right there in front of god and world.

“Come on,” Lisa took his hand and pulled him after her. They returned to their favorite store and Lisa led them towards the sleepwear. She found a sleep set that consisted primarily of a cami and tap pants. It was silky and beige. “What do you think of this?” she asked.

Sam felt the fabric and drape and answered, “It’s nice. Who is it for?”

“Would you wear it? I mean for sleeping?”

“That depends on who is sleeping with me.”

“Sex, sex, sex. Is that all you think about?”

“Not me,” he said. “I don’t think that way, but Sam does. That is all that is ever on his mind,” Samantha said with mock disgust for Sam.

Lisa gave him a sweet smile. “Do you still tuck at night?”

“Yeah. It is getting really old.”

“Well you couldn’t very well tuck with this on. But on the other hand, I don’t know that you need to keep tucking at night all the time. I mean, the whole idea was to help you get acclimated to tucking while you were wearing girl’s clothes. I think you’ve mastered that.”

“You mean I can quit tucking at night? That would be great.”

“And you could wear something like this. If you want to that is. I know you think I’ve been pushing you too much lately. I don’t want you to think I’m being too pushy. It’s just an idea. You can continue with what you’ve been doing if you think that is better; less pushy.”

“Yes, you have been pushing me around,” he said with a grin. “But I am glad that you have. I would love to wear it. Not only does it look wonderfully sexy and feel great, but I can stop tucking. I would wear a gunny sack if I could stop tucking.”

“But only at night, though.”

“I know. What else do they have here?”

The girl’s turned their talents and attention to power shopping in their favorite store.

The Samantha Project - Chapter 31-35

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Sam fights to maintain his masculinity as he falls further under the spell of his feminine lifestyle. Mistakes are made and a price is paid.

Femdom, crossdressing, hair and hair salon, corseting, heels, appliances attached, sex, illustrations.

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson
CHAPTER 31

The desk phone buzzed into the middle of Maggie’s conversation. She was on the phone with a Rio de Janeiro photographer. It was one of Maggie’s better picture takers. The man not only supplied some great pictures for her web site, but this photographer had also discovered one of Maggie’s most beautiful boys; Julia.

“Can I get back to you please? I think I have an emergency brewing.” Maggie’s executive secretary knew that she was on a call, and she also knew not to interrupt without a very good reason. Maggie picked up the handset and asked, “What’s the problem, Suzy?”

“Miss Mona wants to see you immediately.”

“Thanks, Suzy.”

Maggie left her office through her executive secretary’s office and out into her reception area. From there she walked down the hall past a few other reception alcoves and offices until she reached the number three office. Office number one belonged to Miss Grace and number two belonged to Michelle Hawthorne. Miss Grace was the matriarch and creator of the modern Hawthorne empire. Michelle Hawthorne was one of those once in a century geniuses. Michelle was a wizard — or witch — when it came to international financial services. She had been the guiding force that took Miss Grace’s family business from comfortable to one of the powers on the face of the planet.

And it was Miss Mona’s job to give Miss Michelle the room to do what she wanted. Mona Hawthorne had her tentacles entwined throughout the entire federal power structure in Washington D. C. Miss Mona was either respected or hated by everyone that knew her. She did favors and earned chits that made her and the family almost immune from the government and its laws. Some of her favors were dark ops that were nasty and of highly questionable legality. Hawthorne jets had flown rendition flights for the CIA under the previous administration. And State Department officials had traveled internationally for clandestine negotiations held aboard Hawthorne jets. On top of that, Miss Mona provided cash and cocktail parties for too many elected officials to even count.

And she had a reputation that would have haunted a lesser woman, but Mona wore that reputation with pride.

Mona’s executive secretary buzzed Maggie into the office. “Yes, Miss Mona?”

“Look at this,” and she waved Maggie over beside her. Mona was behind her desk watching something on her computer monitor. “What the hell is going on here? This is Samantha’s apartment!”

Maggie looked at the screen for a few moments and saw Samantha and someone else in her bedroom. The someone else was a boy, sitting in front of a vanity and mirror and he was attempting to apply mascara to his eyelashes. Samantha was standing behind the other boy and giving verbal instructions.

“What’s going on?” Maggie asked.

“That’s what I want to know. I flipped this on not expecting him to be home yet, and I found this.”

“How long have you been watching this?”

“Not much more than ten minutes.”

“What else has been going on?”

“This is about it. It appears as if Samantha is telling the boy in the chair how to apply makeup.”

“I don’t understand. Samantha brought a boy to his apartment? Who is this kid? And why is he helping the boy apply makeup?”

“I don’t know!” Mona almost yelled. “Is he gay? Has he been gaming us?”

“No … I don’t think that is possible. That doesn’t make any sense at all. How long has this been going on?”

“How the hell would I know? Isn’t that your job?”

“Yes ma’am. It is my job. Let me check the logs and see if this has happened before. I’ll also call the body guard and see what she knows.”

“Isn’t she supposed to keep you up to date on shit like this?”

“Yes ma’am. Obviously she hasn’t been doing her job.”

“Well I’m calling Lisa. I want to find out what she knows.”

“No!” Maggie almost yelled before she caught herself. “Let me do my checking first. Lisa might not know anything, and I don’t think we want to cause her any alarm. Don’t you agree, ma’am?”

Mona thought for a moment while she watched Samantha demonstrate how to apply mascara. “You’re right. Find out what you can and get back to me immediately. This isn’t good, Maggie. I don’t want some reporter digging around twenty years from now and finding this guy. There is no telling what he might say. I want it handled.”

“Yes, Miss Mona,” and Maggie stomped out of the office.

Back in her own office, Maggie called Jill. “Do you know that there is a boy in Samantha’s apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Who is he?”

“All I know is his first name, Bill. He was Samantha’s laboratory partner in chemistry last semester.”

“Do you know what they are doing?”

“Not really.”

“What do you know?” Maggie’s voice was rising.

Jill explained how Bill had figured out who Samantha really was. She told Maggie about their discussions after class and then later in the library. Then she told her about their shopping trip. “The two of them met in the library yesterday, then they left and went shopping together.”

“Where? For what?”

“They went off campus to a drug store and bought cosmetics. From there, they split up and Samantha went back to her apartment. She took the cosmetics with her.”

“Jill, do you know what is going on?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve only picked up bits and pieces of their discussions in the library. But if I had to guess, I think Bill is a transvestite. I think he likes Samantha, and is jealous of her … uhm, her dressing situation. And now, I think Samantha might be helping Bill.”

Maggie thought about everything for a few moments. Then her temper started rising again. “You were supposed to keep an eye on Samantha and let me know everything that was going on. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I thought everyone knew. The first time that Bill started guessing about Samantha, Samantha told Lisa. After every morning discussion between the two, Samantha had lunch with Lisa. I thought Samantha was telling Lisa what was going on.”

“Lisa knows about this?”

“I guess … I thought so,” Jill said with less than much certitude.

Maggie was stopped dead in her tracks. That really brought up some questions. If Lisa knew why was she allowing it to happen? Maggie had to think this over. “Thanks Jill. Keep me informed of all contact between these two,” and Maggie clicked off.

Maggie walked around her office three times before she made up her mind. She punched Lisa’s speed number and waited for Lisa to pick up. “Hey, how ya doing?”

“Fine. I’m killing a little time before I go pick up Samantha for dinner.”

“Did you get him switched off his anti-androgens?”

“Yep. After we bought some new vitamins, I removed his other pills from his kitchen. I took them back with me.”

“Good thinking. No chance of him making any mistakes that way. Did you find some new panties for sleeping?”

“Yeah, no problem. We went to our favorite store and found some nice tap pants and frilly knickers for him. I think he liked them,” she giggled.

“That’s great Lisa.” Ok, now it was time to start prying. “So how is Samantha doing? Everything ok?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Is he still isolated by himself? Is that working out ok?”

“I think so. We had a long talk at the mall on Monday. You know, the part where he has pretty much accepted his feminization, but he needs continuous reassurance that what he is doing is ok. But I think he is happy now. Mom says he will need occasional encouragement. But that’s ok. I understand the situation.”

That didn’t sound like Lisa knew about someone else. Maggie had to keep prying. “So Samantha is doing ok on his own? What does he do during the day, while you’re at class?”

“He seems to be doing fine. He goes to his classes in the morning, I meet him for lunch and then in the afternoon he either has classes or studies in the library. Lately he has also had some salon appointments: some mornings and some afternoons. But he seems to be getting around just fine.”

Maggie had to go for broke, “By himself?”

“No, Jill follows him and makes sure he is ok.”

A new tact, “How is Jill working out? Is she reporting any problems?”

“No, everything is going just swell.” It was getting close to time for her to go get Samantha for dinner. Lisa wanted to be respectful to her father so she said, “I need to be leaving to go pick him up, is there anything you want me to pass along?”

Last chance, Maggie had to go for broke, “A couple of weeks ago, didn’t Samantha say something about a boy that maybe recognized him?” Maggie held her breath.

Lisa seemed to be thinking for a second. “I guess I vaguely remember him saying something about that, but I guess nothing happened. Should I ask him?”

“No, no, no.” Maggie hoped she didn’t sound to urgent … or interested. “You guys go eat. I love you dear.”

“Me too, bye.”

Maggie stood up and began circling her office again. She was trying to decide what she actually knew, what she thought she knew and what options she might have. But one thing she knew for sure, she didn’t want Lisa to know anything was amiss. She quickly called Mona.

“Well have you found out anything?” Miss Mona demanded.

“I’m still digging into this. But I am pretty sure that Lisa knows nothing about it. Please don’t say anything to Lisa … at least not yet.”

“Well what do you know?”

“Speculation; Jill thinks he is Samantha’s chemistry lab partner from last semester. His name is Bill, no last name yet, and Jill thinks he has figured out who Samantha really is.”

“Shit! What are we going to do about it?”

“Wait, there might be more. Jill thinks he may be a cross dresser and he might be really envious of Samantha. They have been spending their afternoons in the library talking together.” Maggie came to a halt.

“What?” Mona demanded.

“Oh shit! If that is the case, then that might mean Samantha and him are talking. I mean talking about what Samantha is doing and who she is meeting. Everything.”

“That does it, I’m calling Matt.”

Miss Mona was going over the deep end. Calling in that maverick was a real mistake. It would just snowball future problems if someone started digging into Lisa’s past.

“No. Miss Mona please don’t bring him into this. At least not yet. Give me another day or so. There might be some more subtle way to handle this.”

Maggie could almost hear the gears grinding away in Mona’s head. Finally she relented. “Get to the bottom of this Maggie!” and she hung up.

Maggie knew immediately what she had to do next. She called Jill. “I want a bug on Samantha’s backpack first thing tomorrow. Understood?”

“No problem. I have easy access during his salon appointment tomorrow morning.”

“I want a live feed also.”

“You’ve got it.”

On Wednesday afternoon Samantha arrived at the library and Bill was already there. “Hi Samantha. How was your salon appointment today?”

“Ok. We’re still working on my chest. I guess most of my beard is ok, because she didn’t do any laser work on my face.”

“Did you do your hands again?”

“No, I’m just supposed to continue using the lotion she gave me; lots of moisturizer.”

“Did you guys go shopping last night?”

“No. we went out to eat and then Lisa said she had a test today. So we called it an early night.”

“Yeah. So, I really want to thank you for buying those cosmetics for me. And I really, really want to thank you for showing me how to apply them. I am just amazed at how good you are. Man, you really know this stuff.”

“Well, I have been applying my own makeup for a couple of weeks now. It really isn’t that hard. The hard part, at least in my opinion, is picking out the right colors and combinations in the first place. The application part just takes a little practice.”

“Yeah, practice. Can we go back to your apartment and practice again this afternoon?”

“Sure. I have a two o’clock class, then I’ll meet you there at three. Is that ok?”

“Man that would be wonderful. Thanks again, Samantha. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, recognizing you in the first place. God, I am so jealous of you. I wish I had a girl friend like Lisa. I would love to dress for her and … well perform for her en femme. But you agreeing to help me is absolutely great.” Bill paused and prepared to change the subject. He had a big favor to request.

“So, you two are going to New York on Friday, right? Are you looking forward to it?”

“Who wouldn’t? We’re flying out on our personal jet! Wow. Then we’re going to dinner and a show. On Saturday we’re going shopping and some new salon that her aunt has found. Then more dinner and another show. It should be fun.”

“Yeah, I bet it will be. And I’ll be stuck back here at Boring U. Samantha, can I ask for another huge favor?”

“What?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“You’re leaving on Friday? Returning on Monday? Well … would it be ok if I stayed at your apartment over the weekend? I could practice my makeup. And maybe I could buy a negligee and sleep there. Maybe?”

Sam was silent for almost a minute. “I guess we could do that.”

Bill jumped in his seat and in too loud of a voice said, “Oh wow. Thanks, thanks.”

“Shhh, calm down. There are some rules.”

“Anything.”

“You are out of there first thing Monday morning.”

“Goes without saying.”

“And you can’t wear any of my clothes. You’re too big and you will stretch them out.”

“Of course.”

“And you can have no one else there.”

“Absolutely not.”

Maggie turned off the feed. It was still being recorded, and she would study it in more detail later. But for now she had heard enough. She began another walking circuit of her spacious office and spoke aloud to only the pictures on her desk, “Samantha, have you no discretion? You tell no one outside the family what you are doing. No one! Damn it! If I told Miss Mona about you two, your friend Bill would be very unhappy. You are damn lucky I’m in position to handle this. Instead of Matt, your buddy is going to get one of Ann’s apprentices. Bill, you are going to get your wish.”

CHAPTER 32

The taxi pulled to a stop at the corporate hangar. While Lisa paid their bill, the co-pilot pulled over a cart for their luggage. Like the celebrities they were, Lisa and Samantha strutted out to the jet and walked up the steps while others prepped the plane. At the top of the landing the pilot greeted them and handed Lisa an envelope.

“What’s that?” Sam asked.

Lisa gave him a big smile. “You’ll see. Wait until we’re in the air.” The girls took their seats, each smoothing her skirt under her while taking her seat. It took 15 minutes to load the plane, taxi out to the runway and wait their turn. When the tower gave the pilot his permission for take-off, he pushed forward the thrusters and the jet shot into the air. It took a few minutes for air traffic control to clear them for 30,000 feet, then the pilot gave the clear sign. Lisa picked up the envelope and opened it just enough for her to peak inside. She rooted around for a second then pulled out a credit card sized piece of plastic. She held it close to her bosom and looked at it, then glanced at Sam. It looked like she was playing poker and holding her cards close to the vest.

“Ok, are you going to tell me what it is?”

“It’s your new driver’s license. It looks pretty good.”

Sam held out his hand and asked, “May I see it?”

“Of course sweetie,” and she handed it over.

He studied the license for a few moments, then began reading it. “Samantha Springer, West Hill, Virginia. That’s my new social security number. The picture doesn’t do me justice.”

“That goes without saying,” Lisa agreed.

“Height is about right, but the weight is way off. I’m at least 15 pounds lower.”

“That’s good. I think Maggie made an educated guess.”

“All in all, not bad. Wait, wait a minute. I think I’ve aged a few years.”

“You’re 21 now. Congrats.”

“I can go bar hopping now, pick up some chicks and get it on,” he said with a little extra body language thrown in.

“You’ll only be picking up one chick and I’m her, Miss Samantha Springer.” Lisa used her stern and determined voice.

“Ok, I don’t want to get in trouble. Please tell Maggie thank you. So what else do you have in there?”

Lisa pulled out another credit card sized piece of plastic. “Oh look, Maggie got you your own credit card. You won’t be allowed to use it when I’m with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I buy. Always. I’ll buy you anything you want, just ask.” That was the verbal response. The unsaid reason was, “Because I will take care of you. I am the master and you are the submissive. I own you and I will take care of my possessions.” Lisa handed over the card.

“For Samantha Springer. But it is a corporate card isn’t it?”

“Yes. You are going to be a Hawthorne employee, so you get a company credit card. So if you are off by yourself and you need to buy something, use this. Save your own money.”

“So what is my credit limit?” Sam asked half joking.

“You, my little pumpkin, don’t have a limit,” she said with a cute grin.

“Sweet!” Sam picked up his purse and set it his on his skirted lap. He took out his wallet and inserted the cards into appropriate locations and returned his wallet to his purse then decided to take out his lipstick and compact. Using the mirror in his compact, Sam touched up his lipstick, then put everything away.

Lisa watched Sam perform his girly ritual, and she smiled. “He looks so feminine and natural when he does that,” she thought. “What a beautiful find! And what fun! Boy, girl, courtesan, bride and then concubine. He was born for this life, and I am so lucky the good Lord has allowed me the privilege to guide him through his transformation into a stunning butterfly.”

“Anything else in there? This is getting fun. It’s like Christmas.”

“I have one more thing for you, but first I have to ask you something.”

“No.”

“Just wait a minute. You might agree for once.”

Sam laughed. “I always agree, whether I do or not.”

“As it should be,” Lisa agreed. “But I have a question. In 3 weeks we will finish finals, and then I will graduate.”

“From college?” Sam asked in surprise.

“Yes silly filly. What else would I graduate from?”

“But you’re only a junior,” Sam explained.

“Not exactly. True, this is my third year. But I had a tutor growing up and I went to a pretty impressive prep school. I came to college with lots of credits already. Plus, I spent a lot of summers collecting more credits. I am going to graduate.”

“Congratulations,” Sam said with little enthusiasm. He had been expecting to have another year at school with his girl friend. But as usual, Sam was wrong once again. Unbeknownst to Sam, he was never going to be allowed to spend another year at college, let alone with his pretty girl friend.

“Thank you,” Lisa replied. She could hear the disappointment in Sam’s voice, and she knew why. But she also knew a few other things as well. Sam would be going to school, sort of. He would have his own, full-time private tutor. She smiled in anticipation.

“For my graduation present, mom is going to let me go backpacking in Europe.”

This was going from bad to worse for Sam. “Backpacking?”

“Well, there is a chance that I might leave my luxury apartment with one of those purses that looks like a backpack,” she joked. “But mom said I could take someone with me. So I want to ask my two best friends to go with me.”

Sam’s heart fell and his stomach turned over. “She wants to take 2 people with her? Not one? Not me?” he thought to himself. Shucks was a mild term for what was going through his mind.

“Oh?” was all he could mutter.

“Yes,” she said enthusiastically. “I want to take Samantha and Sam. What do you think? Are you available?”

If it is possible for hearts and stomachs to do reverse maneuvers, his did. A big smile started spreading on his pretty face and he couldn’t control that smile. It gave him away immediately. “Me?”

“Of course, my silly bi-polar squeeze. You. We would spend 3 weeks there. Most of the time would be in Paris; the company has a comfortable apartment near the Eiffel Tower. But I also want to make a few day trips, and I want to take you to Switzerland for a couple of days. I’d like to introduce you to my sister. After all, you’ve been wearing her clothes for over a month now. So?”

Sam’s smile couldn’t get any bigger. “Absolutely! I would love to go to Paris with you.”

They leaned into each other and Lisa kissed Sam’s freshly colored lips. Lisa looked into her envelope and pulled out a black booklet. “Then you are going to need a passport.” She opened it and looked at the picture for a minute. “Maggie picked a very pretty picture of you. See?” and she handed the passport over to Sam.

“A pretty picture? Did she …” and Sam looked at the passport. He was a little stunned. “It’s for Samantha.”

“Yep.” She said proudly.

“But how? They need birth certificates and ... this even has my signature. Samantha’s signature. How did Maggie do this?”

“Well she has lots of pictures of you. And she borrowed your signature from the salon receipt book. She is very resourceful.”

“But how did she fake my birth certificate?”

“That’s just a minor problem for her. Remember who you are dealing with. And don’t forget, mom has a few contacts too. But you’re missing the biggest surprise.”

“And what’s that?”

“The color. Most passports are blue. Yours is black.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means you don’t have to go through a line with the unwashed masses. It means no one can look at your luggage, and you have diplomatic immunity. You have a diplomatic passport Samantha.”

“Really?” It was all Sam could think of to say.

“Yep. You are now part of the privileged class.”

“Do you have one too?”

“Yep. Let me tell you, it makes going through airports a lot easier. The unwashed masses can be x-rayed, questioned, sniffed, and felt up by dirty megalomaniacs with a badge. We walk right by that trash.”

“Sweet.”

“Sweet indeed. Please give it back. I’ll put it back in the envelope and send it back to Maggie with the plane. She can put it in a safe place until we leave.” Sam reluctantly handed it over. Lisa slid it in the envelope and sealed it.

“Now, this weekend. Have you ever been to a Broadway play?”

Sam shook his head and grunted.

“I didn’t think so, so I picked two big production plays. Tonight we are going to see The Lion King. The music is decent but the way they portray the animals is remarkable. And tomorrow night we are going to the Phantom of the Opera. The singing there is truly impressive. I think you will like them both.

“Tonight we have dinner at a fancy, three-star restaurant. Maggie recommended it because the head chef is an old friend of hers from the CIA.”

“CIA? Oh wait, I remember. Chef school.”

“Culinary Institute of America. So we go eat, then we go to a show and then we go clubbing.”

“Are there any other guys going with us?” Sam was immediately suspicious.

“As I understand it, there will be two guys and two girls, but they aren’t together, they’re not couples. These are people Jeff works with and he wants to make an impression with them.”

“So we have dates?”

“No we don’t … not exactly. It’s like this …” but Sam interrupted.

“Lisa, I don’t fully understand why you and your family want to transform me into a girl. But I’ve been a pretty good sport about it. Haven’t I? I mean I’ve had, and still have some serious reservations about what I am doing and how I am dressing and acting and living, but I’ve gone along with it, right?” Lisa nodded and Sam continued, “But Lisa, I am heterosexual. I don’t like guys and I have no desire to be with guys. I don’t want to flirt with guys and pick them up. I don’t know how I can make this any plainer. I don’t want to go on a date with anyone but you. And if you insist on it, then I quit. I don’t care how rich you are, how much I like you or anything else. I don’t care how many diplomatic passports you can get. I am not queer! Period!”

“That’s not the way it’s going to be, Samantha.”

“I hope not, because I will not play spin the bottle with a guy, I will not dance with a guy, I won’t even make small talk with a guy if he thinks it’s a date or something. And no way am I going to kiss a guy, touch a guy or even smell one. I mean it!”

“Ok. I understand and it won’t happen.”

“If it does I’ll do … something. I swear I’ll make a scene that will bring the police. I’ll strip in public or something. I mean it Lisa.”

Lisa had to calm him down, “Ok, ok. I fully understand how you feel. I don’t blame you and I promise it will not happen, I promise.”

“I don’t even want to be left alone with a guy if he thinks I am available or anything.”

In her most soothing voice Lisa tried to calm her boy. “I understand totally. Nothing will happen, I promise. And let me explain something else. We will have a limo and chauffeur. A local guy, but he works for us, not Jeff. And he is also our body guard. He will follow us into the show and clubs and restaurant.”

“A body guard?”

“Yes, Samantha. We are valuable property and thus we are targets for all kinds of weird people. But don’t let that bother you, because we have protection. You have protection at school, we will have protection in Paris and we will especially have protection in New York City.”

Sam should have known this, but like the Hawthorne matriarchy facts that had already been placed in front of him, his lack of experience didn’t allow him to connect the dots. He was now a target. He was in the big leagues and he was still learning the rules.

“Do you have protection?” he asked Lisa

“Yes, but it isn’t always a body guard. I have GPS tracking devices in purses or shoes or belts, and I have other options. But we also have our privacy. This isn’t like the government snooping on us. This is for our protection and is never used unless necessary. Never.

“But the reason I told you this, is because you have the same protection. If someone, some guy starts bothering you too much, place your left hand palm down on your right shoulder.”

“Why?” he asked as he involuntarily went through the motion.

“It is our universal sign that you want help. The body guard will come to you immediately. He is at your disposal and he will protect you. Tell him what you want or need and he will take care of you. Understand? Ok? No one will bother you if you don’t want them around you. Alright?”

Sam looked straight ahead and fell back into his heated, leather seat. He had to digest what he had just heard. There was a down side to all of this money and glitz and glam. Never in his life would he have guessed that he might be in such a position. He had been enjoying the money and power of the Hawthornes, but he had been a bit player; someone on the periphery enjoying the power surrounding those at the center. But now he had just moved into the center. The bulls-eye. The maelstrom. It was a humbling thought.

With all the fun he just realized that there would also be consequences.

“Are you alright?” Lisa asked as she placed a hand on his shoulder. She could feel the bra strap beneath his blouse and she slid it around with her fingers. She squeezed his shoulder and rubbed it a little. He had fallen off the grid for several moments and she wasn’t sure why. “What’s wrong?”

Sam looked at Lisa and tried to verbalize his emotions. “Life just got more real,” he said.

“I’ve been playing a game, and I just found out that it is a real game.”

“You mean about bodyguards and such?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have worried you about that. It’s not as big a deal as you might think. But I wanted to try and comfort you about being with guys and stuff. Ok, there are some realities, but it doesn’t change anything between us.

“I am still in love with you, and I want to show you the grandest time in the world. I want to buy you things and take you places and show you off to people and brag about you and I promise I will protect you. But let’s not let it interfere with our lives.

“And that is something you have to learn. I’ve had my entire life to get used to this. I have never once had any problem or had to use my body guard. And I don’t see why you will have to use one either. It’s our security blanket, but don’t let it smother you. Live, love and enjoy. Don’t ever worry. Ok?” She gave Sam a heart felt smile. It was visible in her eyes, and Sam could see it.

Sam nodded and gave Lisa a smile.

“Good, that’s behind us. We are going to have a wonderful weekend in the Big Apple and then on Monday you go home. On Tuesday, Maggie has you set up for your first facial peel.”

“Facial peel? On Tuesday? But school.”

“You’re commuting by internet, remember? No problem. Let’s talk about it later.” Lisa herself wasn’t sure why Mona had insisted on setting it up so soon. But so be it.

Jeff picked up the girls at the corporate hangar at LaGuardia. He and the chauffeur loaded their valets into the car. Sam was especially interested in seeing what the chauffeur looked like. He wasn’t disappointed. The man was wearing a loose fitting uniform, but Sam could immediately tell that he had no neck and he was built like a wrestler — a real Olympic class wrestler. Chas and George were big men, but this guy looked down right dangerous.

Jeff had the chauffeur take a round about way back to his apartment so that he could give the girls a tour of upper Manhattan. He was very excited to have Lisa in town and he wanted to impress her by showing Sam a nice time. Jeff Winter was a very good family friend and was one of the very few people outside the family that was allowed to know the true situation concerning the Hawthorne matriarchy. And he would help in any way he could. He would even marry Lisa one day.

After their tour, Jeff took the girls back to his apartment. It was on the top floor of an expensive apartment in an expensive part of Manhattan. There were doormen and security cameras everywhere. It wasn’t something Sam would have noticed before, but he now had his eyes opened and he was beginning to see things he had never noticed before. They didn’t unload the car in an open area, but below ground in a parking area with limited access. Cameras watched the area and a rent-a-cop was sitting in a vehicle nearby.

Jeff took the girls up to his apartment and gave them the grand tour. Sam was impressed. It was nothing like Lisa’s home, but it was fancier than anything he had ever seen — at least in person. The apartment occupied one half of the entire floor, and not only did it have 4 bedrooms, but also four baths, and a grand room that contained the kitchen, eating nook, formal dining and living room.

The apartment was furnished in early bachelor-hood, but that is not to insinuate that it was cheap; just Spartan. The walls were bare of pictures and there were no plants or flowers in the apartment. But the dining room table was solid hickory and the living room furniture was totally oversized and covered with phenomenally soft leather. And like a typical bachelor pad, the entertainment center could have blown your shoes off.

By the time they had arrived and unpacked, it was pushing 4:00. “Time to get ready for dinner,” Jeff announced. “We have an early dinner at 6:00 and the show is at 8:00. Make yourself pretty girls,” he joked.

But it was no joke to Lisa. She intended to not only look extravagant, but she wanted the ultimate arm candy; Samantha dressed to wow and impress. She wanted Samantha dressed like a diva; only without the attitude. “Samantha, time for your bath. If you would please, use your perfumed bath gels. And no more than twenty minutes. I’ll help you with your makeup tonight.”

“Will you wash my back?” he asked with a silly grin.

Lisa grabbed his chin and gave him a little waggle. “If you are a really, really good girl — we’ll see later.”

“I’d rather be a bad girl,” he shot back.

Lisa gave him a naughty girl wiggle of her finger (every child in the world has seen the maneuver from her mother) and said, “Be careful what you wish for, you may get spanked! Now go get cleaned up and get perfumed up nice and sweet for me. I want a fragrant girl on my arm tonight. And I will help you with your corset. No cheating my little hourglass.”

Sam wasn’t in the tub for a second past fifteen minutes when Lisa, wrapped in her silk robe, walked across the apartment and pounded on Sam’s bathroom door. “Don’t dawdle! Your makeup is going to take some time.”

Sam stuck his tongue out and made a face towards the closed door. He urged his warm and relaxed body out of the bubble filled tub and wrapped himself in warm towels fresh off the towel warmer. He tossed his shower cap aside and shook his curls free. Looking in the mirror he gave himself an air kiss. “For a stupid boy you make a pretty girl. Stupid boy!” But then he gave himself a grin and a wink, “But we can handle it for a couple more weeks. Fucking eh; Paris! Holy shit! And a diplomatic passport! Welcome to the big time sister. Sister!” and he began laughing.

Sam then decided to do one of the most futile things imaginable; he shaved his face. A face with no whiskers left; a baby smooth and baby soft face. A face that was going to get even softer, clearer and more womanly-tender starting next week. Sam still didn’t realize that he was almost Samantha already, so he lathered up his face and pretended to shave. Thank god he didn’t knick himself. Lisa would have given him that spanking.

Sam smeared lotion over his entire body, using a special lotion for his hands and face, but for his arms, torso and legs he used the old tried-and-true lotion that he had been using for weeks. He walked out to his room and tossed his towels aside, then posed in front of his full length mirror. Sam was starting to look like a Samantha, and even he could see it. He had already lost over fifteen pounds, and it showed on his tummy and torso. Looking straight on, he could see a bit of a curve inwards around his waist and then back out around his hips.

“I guess I am getting a few curves,” he said aloud. “As much as that corset sucks, it does contour my beautiful and sexy body,” he said with a grin. Then he caught himself and added, “Stupid boy! Go dress like a girl!”

Sam opened up the boxes containing his large breast forms and set them on his dresser. He took his liquid adhesive and brushed it over the forms. Looking in the mirror, he then brushed the same adhesive over his chest. Applying it to the forms and his chest would make the forms stick extra tight. Being careful not to touch his sticky chest, Sam pulled on his corset liner and carefully lined up the single seam in the middle of his back.

Next came the rest of his lingerie. He pulled on bikini, silk panties, squeezed his testicles up into their body cavity, and tucked his flaccid penis between his legs. Holding his thighs tightly together to keep everything in place, he stepped into his padded girdle, pulled it up his smooth and hairless legs and pushed everything into a comfortable position. As strange as it may seem, with everything in their proper position Sam was comfortable. It had taken a couple of weeks to get to this point, but he was now comfortable with his tucked, constricted and glued-on figure.

Sam plopped onto his bed and rolled his first stocking into a donut. Being careful to keep the seam in the back, he rolled it up his smoothly waxed leg and situated the silicone grips around his upper leg. Actually, this was one of the odder and slightly uncomfortable feminine garments that he wore. But after a few minutes, the tightness of the silicone grips became part of his state of attire, and he didn’t notice anything.

Sam was at a holding point. Lisa wanted to tighten his white, full-length corset, so he couldn’t go any further. He sat down in front of the vanity and took out his hair brush. Lisa wanted Samantha to look sophisticated tonight, so she had told him to brush out his curls. So one by one, Sam picked out a curl, held it close to the root and attachment and brushed it out. He still wasn’t very good at doing this with his back curls, but he was getting better with those curls on top and on the side. He did his best to get his hair as wavy and flowing as possible. He would have to rely on Lisa to help with the back. No way would he ever look like Tyra, but he would look pretty.

Sam leaned back in his chair and announced, “I’m ready,” just at the same time that Lisa knocked on the door.

“It’s me, can I come in?”

“Yo Adrienne,” he yelled back.

Lisa came in and immediately said, “Go gargle, before we forget.” She had heard his voice and knew he needed that extra help that can only come out of a pharmaceutical device.

“Hi sweetie. You look edible.” Sam was happy to see his main — his only — squeeze all dressed up and especially cute.

“Do what I tell you tonight, and I might give you a bit of a nibble. Now go!”

Sam returned and Lisa said, “Let’s get your breast forms first.”

“Oh goody, tits.”

Lisa came to a screeching halt and glared at Sam. “These are not tits. If you want respect, then respect yourself. You’re not a slut or white trash, Samantha. Like it or not, you are now considered a Hawthorne. It’s a high level of attainment but you have the talent to achieve it. Don’t let us down, Samantha.” Lisa never — almost never — gave lectures. So this one caught Sam off guard.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re excited about going out and so am I, but we have to keep our wits about us. We’re going out to have fun, but we can’t ignore proper decorum. Remember, you are a very rich and classy lady. Now, let’s put on your … boobs,” and she gave Sam a little smile.

Sam stood in front of Lisa and she carefully placed the breast forms on his chest. She placed them just a few millimeters higher than they belonged, knowing that their weight would pull them down. “Hold them there, while I get your bra. Is it this one?” she asked as she picked up a red, lacy underwire. She helped Sam into his bra and she snapped it behind his back. Stepping back she surveyed their work and gave him a nod of approval.

“Corset. Hook it up girl.” Sam wrapped the corset around his waist and hooked the busks in the front. “Hands up,” Lisa instructed and she began working the laces in the back. She pulled, and worked them until she was ready for one last pull. “Exhale and up on your toes.” Sam reached for the sky and Lisa pulled as hard as she could, closing the corset all the way to its tightest. “Hold it, hold it,” and she tied it off. “Ok, show me what you’ve got.”

Sam turned around and gave Lisa one of the poses that she had taught him a couple of weeks back.

“Nice. Sexy. So petite,” she said like a little chant. “Where is that dress of yours.” Sam walked to the bed and picked it up. He held it in front of him and Lisa gave him her approval. “Let’s put it on.”

Sam had seemingly come to the decision that his best color was red. So he had brought a red dress with black polka dots, a big bow around the waist and extra ruffles around the cap sleeves and asymmetrical hem. The hemline ended high enough to give everyone an ample view of Sam’s thin and shapely legs.

Lisa couldn’t help but smile, and Sam noticed of course. “You like Lady?”

“Oh yes.”

Sam did a spin and showed off the merchandise. “Only ten dollar lady. All yours. Everything. Plenty sexy. Little something extra, just for you,” and he started laughing. “Sorry, no respect.”

Lisa gave him a hug and a kiss. “Humor is ok my precious little femme-fatale. I could tell there was no disrespect there. Funny. Now funny girl, heels and makeup.”

Lisa buckled up some over-sized black platforms for her paramour, since he couldn’t bend over that far in his corset. Then she sat him down for his makeover. “Something dark, something smoky, something red and something over the top. It’s the Big Apple girlfriend. We couldn’t be too dramatic no matter how hard we tried. So let’s try.”

Lisa picked up a bottle of foundation and spread a little on a cosmetic sponge. She began blending the foundation onto Sam’s face, giving him a very uniform complexion with no blemishes. His face looked shiny, so she used an over-sized brush to apply neutral powder over his full face. The amount of makeup was more than Sam’s skin required, and way more than Lisa would have used in daylight, but this was night time in New York City. Next she picked up a compact of blush that was redder than decency should have allowed. She made large red circles on Sam’s cheeks. It wasn’t clown level, but it was again overdone for normal circumstances. She used a slightly rosier color to blend in the edges, making Sam look a bit more respectable. Those rosy cheeks would be a wonderful compliment to Sam’s polka-dot dress.

Then Lisa turned her attention to Sam’s brows. She used a dark brown pencil to color in the brows, making them look a bit larger than they should have been. It fit with evening’s look.

“Before we go any further, curl your lashes,” and she picked up the curler and handed it to Sam. “But be careful, don’t pull any lashes loose. Four squeezes per lash.” When Sam was finished she took the curler and laid it on the counter. “Ok, now I don’t have to worry about you smearing anything. Lid foundation, where is it?” Sam spotted it and handed it to Lisa. “Samantha, are you watching what I’m doing?” she asked him.

“Absolutely. I’m mesmerized, but let’s be honest, I can’t do this. Not yet at least.”

“But soon girl, soon.” Lisa began spreading various shades of smoky gray shadow over Sam’s eye lids. She brushed the shadow a little wider than Sam’s eyes, giving his eyes a deep set appearance. Then she used a thin brush and a dark black to line his creases. Lisa stepped back and looked at his two eyes. “Ok, I can live with that. Can you?”

Sam looked in the mirror and saw his dark eyes. “Cool,” he said.

Lisa picked up a Kohl pencil and began lining the top and bottom lid. “Oh you are going to be dark and mysterious tonight my little heart breaker. The boys will go home crying.”

“That’s fine, because they’re not going home with me.”

“If you say so,” she teased. She took another small brush and smeared his liner to give it a softer look. Then to add to his already dramatic look, Lisa took a jet black liner with the tiniest brush possible and lined the inside of Sam’s lashes. She again stepped back and looked at her handiwork. “Damn I’m good sister.”

“Are we sisters now?” Sam asked with a giddy feeling.

“Of course, don’t you remember the party? Mom said you were her daughter. That makes us sisters.” They both laughed thinking back to that night so long ago. “Ok, last step here, mascara. You know how to do that. One coat now, and then another when we’re done with your lips.”

Lisa handed him a tube that she had brought with her. It was dark brown with flecks of gold glitter. Sam brushed on his first swipe and then stopped, looking into the mirror. “Is there something wrong with this?”

“Not at all, it has gold flecks for that little something extra. It’s New York glitz.”

“Weird, but ok.” Sam brushed on the mascara over both lashes, upper and lower, making his lashes thick and sparkling. With his attached lashes, his eyes were now beyond New York City Glam. They were bold, curled, thick, flashy … phenomenal. These were the proverbial eyes that pulled a guy — or girl — into them and the victim was never heard from again. Sam — Samantha — was there!

Sam finished and Lisa said, “One more coat when we finish your lips. Pucker just a little, I want to give you a deep cupid’s bow.” She used a lip liner to outline the outside edge of his lips, trying to make them a bit larger than normal. She used a redder than red lipstick to go with Sam’s rich red dress. Using a pot of lip gloss, Lisa used a brush to fill in Sam’s lips. The lip gloss would last longer and have a wetter, glossier look. She used two different colors, a slightly lighter color in the fat center of each lip, making them look even more pouty than normal. With his collagen enhanced lips, and Lisa’s makeup technique, Sam’s lips looked larger than life.

“You can apply your second coat of mascara and I’ll brush out the back of your hair. You know, you did a nice job in front.”

“Thanks,” Sam answered as he added more glitter to his lashes. Lisa brushed out his individual curls, then wove them together and gave him that older, more glamorous look that he had at his first party as Samantha.

Both girls looked at Sam’s reflection in the mirror. “Looking good girl,” Lisa complimented Sam. “Jewelry.”

Sam picked up a pair of solid red disks and inserted them in his pierced ear lobes. “Polka-dots for the ears,” he muttered. Then he added a black watch with a wide plastic strap. It had that tacky, but chic appearance.

Sam stood and twirled for Lisa. Without saying a word he asked for her opinion. “Awesome,” was the word. “We really did it right, Samantha. You look perfect for a night on the town in the Big Apple. Show me your nails.” Sam flashed his French nails for Lisa. “They need work. But that’s tomorrow’s story. Tonight we party. Perfume and throat spray and we are ready, ahead of schedule.”

But not much ahead of schedule, Jeff yelled from outside the bedroom, “Lisa we have to get going.” Lisa opened the door and stepped out wearing her LBD, with her hair tied up in back. “Cool,” he drawled. “Sexy woman!”

Lisa stepped in front of the bedroom door and announced, “Jeff Winter may I present Samantha, my dearest friend.” They both looked at the bedroom door and … nothing. “And now …”

Sam stepped out and held up his clutch purse. “Sorry, I was filling my purse,” he apologized. “Girl things, ya know.”

“Holy shit!” Jeff said under his breath. A big smile spread across his face as his eyes first scanned Sam from heels to eyes, then began undressing him.

Lisa slapped him on the arm. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, she belongs to me.”

Being a very good family friend, Jeff knew the score. “Can I buy her?” he joked.

“Not a chance in hell,” she answered.

Sam tapped his heel, placed a hand on his hip, posed with some attitude and said, “I am standing here you know!”

“Yes you are,” Jeff said. “And we should be moving. Do you girls have everything you need? We have to get going.”

They arrived at the restaurant two minutes late for their reservation. The other 4 people were already there and Jeff quickly made the introductions. They reached the maá®tre d’ and announced their identity. With a turned up nose the man said, “You’re late. Let me see if we still have a table for you,” and he walked away.

“Kind of snotty, isn’t he?” Sam said.

“This is New York, better get used to,” Jeff’s friend Michael said. He too sounded just a bit condescending.

The maá®tre d’ returned to Jeff and said, “We might have something in a few minutes.”

Jeff slipped him a twenty dollar bill and said, “We have a show to catch tonight.”

“Well you should have said something,” the man said snidely. “Right this way.”

The group was seated and began another wait. Some water boys showed up to fill their water glasses, but their waiter was no where to be found. Michael explained the situation to the two girls from out of town. “New York has its own rhythm. The better restaurants have waiters that sometimes work at their own pace. It is to be expected. That is why I recommended a 5:00 reservation.” He aimed his snide comment towards Jeff.

A few minutes later they finally got their waiter to show up. “Cocktails?” Jeff ordered two bottles of wine for the table. Then the waiter looked at Lisa and Sam and said, “May I see your ID please?” The girls handed over their driver licenses. “Out of town? Are these real? I’ll be back,” and he walked off with their licenses.

“I hope he doesn’t reject your out of state licenses,” Michael said. But his tone of voice indicated that it wouldn’t have bothered him in the least.

Lisa had had enough. She opened her purse and took out a card and pen. On the back of the card she wrote, “Chef Adams” and then put her purse away. “Taking notes?” Michael asked in his sarcastic voice.

Lisa ignored him and waved over a water boy. Using a heavy Southern drawl Lisa said, “Please be a honey and deliver this to the chef, please.” The water boy walked off and Lisa gave Sam a little covert wink. Michael snickered and said something under his breath to one of the other girls.

They waited less than two minutes before utter pandemonium broke loose. The chef came charging out of the kitchen followed by his two assistants. In a large voice he exclaimed, “Lisa! Miss Lisa Hawthorne! Welcome, welcome! My lord how you have grown. I haven’t seen you since you were ten years old. How is Maggie?”

Everyone at the table stared with their mouths open. Lisa stood and gave the chef a hug. “Maggie is just fine and she sends her warmest regards.”

“Why isn’t she here? Is she so important that she can’t come see an old friend from school?”

“I’ll tell her she needs to get here ASAP.”

“You do that. Does she still make that unholy chocolate concoction of caloric death?”

“Absolutely.”

The chef turned to his two assistants and said, “We went to the CIA together. Maggie Hawthorne makes the best chocolate soufflé on this planet.” Turning back to Lisa who had returned to her seat the chef asked, “Now Miss Lisa, what can I do for you?”

“Well, we have a show at 8:00 and we are running a little behind schedule.”

“Say no more. Do you like lamb?” The chef addressed the full table, “Lamb? Because I have chops that will melt in your mouth.” Everyone nodded their agreement. “I’ll have you out of here in no time. What else can I do for you Miss Lisa?”

“Well, I hate to tattle, but can we have another waiter? The current one seems to be missing in action, and he has our driver’s licenses.”

“What?” he yelled. He pointed to one of his assistants and said, “Get them now.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, it is a little trifle of very minor consequence. But I do believe that it should be brought to your attention. For the simple fact that we were two minutes late, my dear friend Jeff here had to buy this table for 20 dollars. Now you know the money is meaningless, but …”

“Miss Lisa, I apologize ten times over. I am ashamed. I am dishonored in the presence of Maggie Hawthorne’s daughter. The meal shall be on the house, and I will send you a proper waiter. I promise.” The chef stomped off and staff began charging around the place. First the waiter returned and apologized for holding the two licenses. Then the maá®tre d’ returned and in a barely audible voice apologized and handed Jeff a twenty dollar bill. Then two other waiters showed up with a wine much more expensive than the one Jeff had ordered.

Jeff looked at Lisa and grinned from ear to ear. They toasted each other with their wine and then Lisa turned to Michael and stared him in the eyes. With a heavy Southern drawl she said, “Just because we’re in a big city doesn’t mean people can’t show a little courtesy. Don’t you think?” She slammed him so hard that he didn’t say another word for the rest of the meal.

When things had calmed down a bit Sam leaned over and in a whisper said to Lisa, “Maggie’s daughter?”

Lisa had winced when Chef Adams had said that, but she had come up with a plausible response. “You’re Mona’s daughter,” and she gave Sam a smile and shrug of her shoulders. She was shrugging off the comment as just one of those things said in the heat of the moment. Sam accepted the explanation and dropped it from his mind.

They were indeed out of the restaurant in plenty of time to reach The Lion King. Sam was duly impressed with the production and the group managed to reunite in the lobby after the show. “Shall we go to a club? The Epitome?” Jeff asked.

The group all agreed, except Sam. He pulled Lisa off to the side and in a hushed tone asked, “Do we have to? I’d rather not.”

“Fine, you may return to the apartment,” Lisa said in a voice as cold as ice. “I’ll have the limo take you back.” She left a shocked Sam standing alone, as she walked over to Jeff and gave him the news.

“No problem,” he said loud enough for Sam to hear. To the full group he announced, “Miss Samantha will not be joining us for the remainder of the evening. The limo will return her to my apartment. The rest of us can catch a taxi. Shall we?” and he began ushering everyone outside.

Sam realized that he had just screwed the pooch. He tried to catch Lisa but she was already half way out the door. In a matter of a few moments Sam was left standing in the lobby with only the chauffeur. Not knowing what had transpired the man simply said, “This way miss.”

The group found a large SUV taxi. Sam and Lisa were in the front and the other four were in the back. “Is there a problem?” Jeff asked.

“Not really. He is getting a little defiant. He is a hopeless homophobe and he is afraid some guy will hit on him.”

“Well that will almost surely happen. He makes a very beautiful looking girl. So what will you do?”

“I’ll have to discipline him tomorrow, and hit him with a little guilt also. It’s no big deal. It’s part of the training. I knew it would show up sooner or later. I’m just sorry it showed up tonight,” she apologized.

“Not a problem,” Jeff answered. “You girls have this training thing all figured out don’t you?”

Lisa gave him a knowing smile.

The next morning Sam was sitting in the living room, curled up on an oversized chair. He was wearing his negligee and a long silk robe. Sam had been up and flipping through television channels for almost two hours. He was waiting to apologize to Lisa. About ten o’clock Lisa came out of her room. She was dressed and had her makeup on. As she walked across the room towards the kitchen and some orange juice, Sam said, “Good morning, Lisa.”

Lisa ignored him. She walked into the kitchen and helped herself to some juice. Then she returned to the living area and sat down in a chair facing Sam. “Please turn that drivel off,” she said in a cold voice. Sam clicked off the TV. Lisa sipped her juice and stared at Sam.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Sam tried to apologize but Lisa just stared at him, making him feel even more uncomfortable. “I just didn’t want to take a chance on …”

“Please be quiet,” she interrupted. She continued to glare at Sam for several minutes. Minutes! Sam was squirming in his chair. “I have never been so disappointed in my life,” she said with a tear in her eye and a slightly choked up voice. “I brought my best friend to New York City and she deserted me. I wanted to go out on the town with my best friend. My best friend! And she left me.

“And I know why she did it. It was stupid and selfish. Because she is a homophobe I had to spend the evening by myself.” She drained her juice and then stomped back to the kitchen to refill her glass. Sam watched her without saying a word. She took her time returning from the kitchen, then once again sat down and stared at Sam.

“You could have come back with me,” Sam said. “We could have …”

“What?” she loudly interrupted him. “Come back and screwed around? Just you and me? What about our host? Jeff is being a gracious host, opening his home to us and showing us around his town.” And then in her most sarcastic voice she asked, “Don’t you think that at least one of us should have played the gracious guest?”

Sam slumped in his chair. Lisa couldn’t have been more right, and she couldn’t have made her point any more bluntly. Sam felt ashamed. He was only starting to understand that he couldn’t just play the spoiled rich chick. There were real responsibilities in a real world. But just in case he didn’t understand that, Lisa told him.

“What you did last night was just plain rude. Jeff owes you nothing! He was trying to be an honorable friend and you slapped him in the face. You couldn’t even come up with a reasonable excuse. You wanted to come back and screw.

“And you’re a homophobe. I have gone to great expense and time and effort to help you look like a beautiful girl. You’re hot and sexy and I love being seen in public with you. Do you expect the rest of the world to miss that? Grow up! Learn to deal with it. Ask for a little help. I’ll show you how to turn a guy away. You don’t have to go fuck a guy on the dance floor! Is that what you think was going to happen?” Lisa was hot, but she was also calm, and she knew her vulgarity would have a strong impact on Sam. The combination of her voice and vocabulary punched the wind out of Sam.

“Go get dressed. You’re sitting in someone else’s house half dressed. I have things I want to do today.”

Sam stood and pulled his robe tightly around him. He thought for a few seconds and said in his most contrite voice possible, “I am sincerely sorry for my performance last night. I will apologize to Jeff as soon as I can. But most importantly I am sorry that I disappointed my best friend last night. I humbly ask that you forgive me and … help me become a better person … and a better girl.”

With out looking at him Lisa said, “I accept the apology and I will help you. But you better mean it.”

“With all my soul, I mean it.” He hesitated as if he wanted to say something else, then walked away to his room. Lisa didn’t gloat or smile. She had meant much of what she had said. But she had also realized something else; she didn’t enjoy disciplining her best friend.

By eleven they were in a taxi heading to Miss Michelle’s salon. “Appointment for two, the name is Lisa,” she told the receptionist.

The girl pulled up the proper computer screen and read, “Lisa, wash and set, facial and manicure. Samantha, facial, makeover and pedicure.”

“Slight change,” Lisa said. ‘Samantha will not have a facial and instead will have a pedicure and manicure. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes ma’am. It will take just a minute for the stylists to get ready. Please help yourself to coffee and Danish.”

They took a seat and Lisa turned to a very quiet Sam. “Samantha, since you are getting a peel on Tuesday, it might be best to skip your facial today. For your manicure, have her fill in your extensions, but drop the French nails. Have her round your tips and go with something red and glittery; something for an evening in New York City. If that is acceptable with you,” she added with a bit of sarcasm.

Sam picked up the sarcasm. “Yes ma’am,” he answered. “Lisa, can I ask a question?”

Lisa merely looked at him. “What kind of makeover do you want me to get; day or evening?”

“Will you be joining us tonight?”

“Lisa, I am really, really sorry about my stupidity last night. If you will have me I want with all my heart to join you tonight.” Sam was sincere and Lisa could hear it in his voice.

She refused to smile, but she lightened her tone, “Get the evening makeup. Let’s see if she can do better than we did last night.”

Sam smiled just a little and answered, “Not a chance.” Lisa gave him just the tiniest smile.

After their salon session, Lisa’s hair was up in an elegant updo and Sam had exquisite makeup and nails. Plus, he had a cute red ribbon in his hair. It pulled the hair off his forehead and gave him just a slightly more formal look. “A light lunch and then we have a two o’clock appointment.”

Sam didn’t even ask where. He knew he was still in the doghouse. Lisa took him to a vegetarian restaurant and bought him a salad. There was little talk at the table to begin with. Sam still felt bad and wanted to make amends. “Lisa, will you help me with something?”

“What?”

“How would a beautiful and refined lady such as yourself fend off an unwanted advance from a guy?”

She finished her chewing, swallowed and looked at Sam. “First off, he had better be a gentleman, and not some guy.”

“Of course.”

“Some guy deserves little in the way of manners, but he is probably your most dangerous situation. Some guy might be a little drunk and even belligerent. He might be showing off for a friend. You have to be careful with some guy. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“First off, if you see him coming, turn away. If there is someone with you, talk with her. If not, walk towards the ladies room, and don’t waste any time dawdling. If he catches you, act surprised. Say, “I’m sorry, I thought you were my boy friend. I thought he was returning with our drinks.” Most likely that won’t work. He has probably been watching you and hasn’t seen another guy around.

“Tactic two, you are meeting someone else. Or you are about to leave to meet your boyfriend some place else. Wave to someone across the room and announce, “There he is. That big guy that plays professional football.” That is a little over the top and usually not very effective. But the idea is to make him realize that you are not alone and you are not available.

“At the first chance you get, walk away. At this point you don’t even have to make an excuse. Turn and walk. Almost never will he follow you. Even for most drunks, they get the point at this time. But walk with purpose and do not run. Wild animals chase prey that runs.

“Don’t get sarcastic or insulting with the guy. Sometimes that works, but if it doesn’t it only serves to piss him off. And some of them, especially the inebriated ones, can be ornery and physical. The last thing you want to do is have to call over your body guard. When that happens you might as well leave also, because the entire place has now marked you as someone to avoid.

“And when you get better, you can do all of that with a look. You look him in the eye, survey his clothes and the way he stands, then you step back and say, “No thank you.” When you get really good, you don’t even have to speak. You simply look him over, then walk away. But be careful here, you have to be very confident that you can pull this tactic off.

“It usually helps to smile when you talk with some guy. But make it a smile that marks you as superior. A small smile with no teeth. Always respond slowly as if you have taken his measure. Never yell or get abusive. If you need to do that, call your body guard. And be aware of your body language. This is a key point. Never get defensive. Never cross your arms, lower your eyes or look down, or hold your hands in front of you. Don’t grip your purse like you are trying to protect it. Always look at him and make him understand that you are more than his equal. We can practice this, because it is very important. If it comes to a stare down, you have to win.

“And finally, if it is not some guy, but a gentleman, compliment him but say that you are not interested. A gentleman will walk away. If he doesn’t walk away, then he is not a gentleman and you go back to the other tactics.”

Sam listened and took it all in. He truly needed to know these things. “Thank you. There is much more to this than I ever dreamed.”

Lisa accepted his apology once more. “Samantha, I will teach you these things. I want you to be safe, that is my absolute first requirement. But then I want you to be confident. Confident in your surroundings, your dress and with your sex. In public you are a girl after all. And you are a very beautiful girl. Everyone is going to notice you, and that includes the boys; the good, the bad and the ugly. Beauty can intimidate, and that really is your first line of defense. Only the better looking and better heeled boys are going to make a move on you — usually; 90 percent of the time. It’s the other ten percent that you need to be prepared to handle. And trust me, you have the ability to do that. You’ve already handled a United Stated Senator.

“You are always so afraid of some guying coming on to you. If you learn how to do this, you accept the compliment that he is paying you, then you simply dismiss him. It doesn’t have to be a drama. Understand?”

“I am trying.”

“Good. We need to get moving. Our next stop is at the jewelry store.”

It was a smaller size store, but it had all the look of a very high-end shop. When they arrived, Lisa immediately walked up to the front counter and handed the man her card. “I believe that we have an appointment with Louis,” she said.

The shopkeeper looked at the card and replied, “Yes ma’am you do. Please let me take you to him.” The man moved out at a fast pace and while he walked behind the long counter, Lisa and Sam followed on the customer side. He took them through a door into a small room in the back. The room had a single table in the center with two Tiffany lamps sitting on either end and an oval mirror in the center. Around the table were two comfortable upholstered chairs. A man was waiting for them.

“I am Louis,” and he offered his hand to the girls. Lisa reached him first and introduced herself and then Samantha. “It is an honor to have you here Miss Lisa. May I offer you tea or a soft drink?”

The two girls respectively declined. With the girls seated and Louis standing on the other side of the table he said, “Shall we get down to business then? I understand that you are looking for diamond earrings.”

“Yes,” Lisa began, “And I am also looking for one other item, but first the earrings. I want something in the 5 to 10 carat range for each earring, and I am thinking of something in a cluster, but I am also open to a drop style. I am also thinking of a main or central diamond surrounded with others, but I am not looking for chips. I want something substantial that has lasting appeal. This is to be an heirloom. Nothing avant-garde.”

“Yes ma’am. And do you have a price range?”

“I will go to 6 figures, but not over $250,000. We will take the earrings with us, but I will have them independently appraised. I want quality diamonds and I will return if they don’t meet the appraisal.”

“Yes ma’am, I understand. Is there anything else before we begin?”

“No.”

“Then excuse me while I bring in the first group.” Louis left by a side door.

“How much are you spending?” Samantha asked in awe.

“As little as possible.”

“But you said a quarter of a million dollars! My god!”

“You are worth it, aren’t you?” she asked with a perfectly straight face and not even a hint of a smile or grin.

Sam blinked several times before he dared speak. “They’re for me?”

“Of course. I know you like expensive jewelry, and you have no earrings for this evening.” Then she broke into a small smile. “I intend to show off my best girlfriend tonight. I want her looking breath taking.”

Samantha fell back into her chair and exhaled. “Wow.”

Louis returned with several velvet cases. He pushed the mirror slightly off center towards Lisa and pulled the lamps closer to her. “Do you wish for a jeweler’s loupe?” he asked Lisa.

“That won’t be necessary. I am no expert on gem quality. I will have them appraised for that.” Lisa slid the mirror closer to Samantha and added, “The earrings are for my friend.”

“Yes ma’am.” Like a good salesman, he turned his attention to Samantha. Opening the box he lifted out the first earring and showed it to Sam. “This is a 5 carat arrangement with a 3 carat diamond in the center. The setting is platinum and each diamond is rated at VS or better for clarity and F or better for color.”

“What is VS?” Sam asked.

“A diamond is rated for internal flaws. The highest is F for flawless. That would be a very expensive diamond; investment quality in fact. The VS rating is a few steps lower. It is still a very high quality and expensive diamond.”

And what does F mean for color?”

“It is one of the three highest ratings for color. It means the diamond has essentially no color.”

“And no color is better?”

“It may depend on the buyer’s preference. But in this case, clearer is better ma’am.”

“Do you like the earring, Samantha? You can either try it on or look for something else.”

“Let me try it and see.” Sam didn’t know if he liked it or not, but he wanted to put it on just to see himself with such an expensive earring. He slipped on both earrings and looked at himself in the mirror.

“What does my lady think?” the salesman asked.

“I’m not sure,” Sam answered. “How much does it cost?”

Lisa spoke immediately, “Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll handle that. You’re job is to pick out the pair that you like the most. Louis, let’s look at the next pair.”

They inspected at least 25 pair before they made even their first decision. They decided that Sam would look best with a cluster rather than a drop earring. And they thought it would be less likely to get tangled in hair. Louis gathered several of the cases, left a few, and left to collect more earrings.

“Are you leaning towards any?” Lisa asked.

“I don’t know anything about earrings, let alone diamonds,” Sam sighed. “This stuff is way over my head.”

“It may be the first time you have looked at diamonds, but I will not let you use that excuse to evade making a decision. You are in the big leagues now, and you won’t always be an expert on the topic du jour. You must start making some decisions concerning your appearance. In the future I want you taking more responsibility for your hair and makeup and clothing. You will need to establish your own style and aura.

“Don’t be afraid, you can’t go wrong here. You won’t be cheated on quality.”

“Ok. But you might not like what I pick out,” he warned.

“Yes I will.”

Sam took a deep breath and said, “I like the larger, round ones, with the big central diamond. They seem simpler in design and more classic. The curvy designs seem too … flashy … or modern. Modern isn’t the right word, but it conveys less sophistication and fewer years of acceptance. Am I making sense?”

“I know exactly what you are saying; simple and classic without excessive design flair interfering with the diamond’s simple beauty. It makes perfect sense and shows a keen understanding of what you are looking for. So what’s the problem?”

Sam giggled, “I like the big ones. I expect they are the most expensive.”

“Not necessarily, but don’t worry about it. We can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Louis returned with two more cases and opened them for Sam. They spent another half hour looking through the new earrings, and comparing them with the favorites from the previous groups. It took close to two hours for Sam to make his final decision.

“Are you sure?” Lisa asked.

“Yes.”

“Sir what is the cost, please?”

“Well this pair is a little more than we had previously discussed. It is marked at $400,000.”

Sam gave a small gasp, but Lisa said nothing. She looked at Louis with eyes of cold, hard blue steel. She waited several moments before she spoke, and her tone was as ice cold as Sam had heard that morning. “Is this how you do business, sir? I laid out my terms at the beginning of our meeting. I specifically told you nothing over $250,000, did I not?”

“Yes ma’am, but then we began looking at additional features …”

Lisa quietly cut him off. “I do not care about additional features. I bargained with you in good faith. I gave you my price and I did not think that I had to continuously discuss the topic with you. I was clear in my instructions, and I thought you had the ability and honor to remember also.

“But now I am handed the oldest sales trick in the book. Is that what you want me telling people? You came highly recommended by a very dear friend. Do you want me to tell her that you betrayed her trust in your dealings with me? If you insist on using these tactics with me, she will feel the ignominy every bit as much as you should. I can assure you, you will never get another referral from her or me … or our family.” Lisa finished and stared him in the eye.

“Ma’am, perhaps we could look at this pair here?” And he held up another pair that had almost made the final cut.

Lisa slowly stood and never took her eyes off Louis. “My friend picked out this pair here. I will not insult her by asking her to accept a lesser choice. And I am insulted that you would even suggest something so crass to me. Mr. Louis, you disgrace yourself and your establishment.”

Lisa motioned at Sam and said, “Samantha, we have overstayed our welcome.”

Louis was getting more than a bit nervous. Lisa and Samantha were out of the inspection room and marching through the front shop area when Louis called to Lisa. “Ma’am, who may I ask referred you to us?”

Lisa came to a stop. Slowly she turned around and looked at Mr. Louis. “My grandmother, Miss Grace Hawthorne.”

Louis’ heart stopped and his hand flew to his pocket. He pulled out Lisa’s card to look at it and put two and two together. “$225,000 ma’am. I apologize for taking so much of your time. May I have it wrapped for you?”

Sam started to smile until he saw Lisa’s face. She was still had her game face on. “I will have it appraised,” she warned.

“I appraise Miss Grace’s jewelry,” he complained.

“I guess this isn’t Miss Grace’s purchase, is it?”

“When you came in, you said you had two items that you wanted to purchase. What is the second item, please?”

Lisa looked at her watch and grimaced. “We’re out of time.”

Louis was behind the counter running around putting together the paperwork for Lisa’s purchase. “The paperwork will take a few minutes, can I show you something quickly?”

Lisa reconsidered. “An engagement ring, simple and no more than $25,000.”

Sam almost twisted a neck muscle as he swung around to look at Lisa. She gave him a quick negative nod and mouthed, “No. Later.”

Louis pushed the paperwork to his clerk and almost ran to the back counter. He pulled out two cases and quickly brought them up to the front counter and opened them. “These are two carats or more, and all over $25,000. I will sell anyone of them for $25,000. Please take a look at them ma’am. I am sure you will see something you like.”

Lisa took Sam’s arm and led him over to the counter. “Samantha, I’m looking for a decoy for you. Do you see anything that you like?”

For some strange reason Sam’s heart dropped. Why he should suddenly be so disappointed confused him. He was the man and Lisa was the girl. He should buy her an engagement ring, not the other way around. And he quickly understood Lisa’s purpose. So why should that have disappointed Sam? Or Samantha? It made no sense, but yet … there it was.

“What size ring do you wear ma’am?”

“I don’t know.”

“Here, let me check,” and Louis pulled out a group of rings and took Sam’s hand. He started sliding on and off different rings until he found the correct size. He dropped to his knees and went through his counter to find another case of rings. “This case, and these over here will fit you or can be easily adjusted. Please try this one, it is 14 karat gold with a 250 point diamond. It is top quality.”

“250 point?” Sam asked.

“That’s 2 and ½ karat, with excellent clarity and an exceptional cut. It will appraise at over $40,000. I guarantee that.”

The clerk brought over Lisa’s paperwork. It was almost 4:30. “We have a 6 o’clock dinner reservation Samantha. Do you see anything you like? You have to make a decision now.”

“This one,” he said as he slid a ring onto his finger to make sure that it fit. “Yes, this one will work.” He sounded surprised, pleased and disappointed all at the same time. Sam was conflicted and he still didn’t understand why.

“I’m sorry but we re out of time. Can you adjust this check and change it to $250,000?”

“Yes ma’am immediately.”

“Can someone get a taxi for us?”

“Absolutely,” and Louis pushed the clerk outside while he took over the paperwork. “Ma’am I am extremely sorry for our earlier misunderstanding and I hope you will come back and see us again.”

Lisa said nothing to Louis. She signed the last blank and asked, “Samantha, do you have your gifts? Then we must go now. Good day Mr. Louis.”

Sam followed Lisa outside where the clerk was holding a taxi door open and chasing away other people. “Thank you,” Lisa said as she slid in the taxi and gave the driver Jeff’s address.

It took only ten minutes to get to Jeff’s, but Sam was firing questions at Lisa non-stop.

First he thanked her profusely. “I know you like expensive jewelry,” she said as she answered his first thank you. “And I wish we had more time for picking out an engagement ring. It should help you keep the guys away. Flash it at them when they come up to you.”

“You really surprised me. At first I thought …” Sam closed his mouth.

Lisa was now the surprised half of the duo. She gave him a nice smile and asked, “What? What were you thinking?”

Sam turned red and shook his head no. “Nothing,” he said.

Lisa leaned over and gave Sam a gentle kiss. She didn’t want to mess his makeup. “If I were to give you …” and she came to an awkward stop.

The two sat in silence for only a moment and Sam changed the subject. “What happened back there? Was he trying to cheat you on the earrings?”

“I don’t know if he was trying to cheat me. I’ll know better when we appraise your earrings. But he definitely thought he was dealing with some naive Southern girls and he was going to try and take advantage of us. He thought we were going to be a push over. Ha!” she clucked.

“So I don’t understand why he caved so fast. He had your card, he knew who you were, didn’t he?”

“No he didn’t,” Lisa explained. She opened her purse and took out one of her cards. She handed it to Sam and said, “He didn’t know who I was. A girl never puts her last name on a personal card. And when I made my appointment, I gave them my bank and banker’s name, but I never identified myself.”

Sam looked at the card. In the middle it said, “Miss Lisa H.” In the bottom right corner it said “West Hill, Virginia” and in the other corner a telephone number. “I don’t recognize your phone number,” he said.

“That’s the direct line to mom’s executive secretary. I kind of use her for some things.”

“So he had no idea.” Sam observed. “And he didn’t know who your grandmother was, did he?”

“No he did not. And that is the way that I wanted it. I was hoping to make the purchase by myself. But he thought he had some dumb, rich hicks in his office. He really thought he could roll over us. I didn’t want to bring up grandmother’s name, but it served him right.”

“So I have some new jewelry. Wow! Thank you. Lisa, how can you spend so much money? Do you have to get permission?”

“Yes and no. Yes I have to alert Aunt Michelle when I want to spend that much money, but nobody in the family is ever turned down for anything. We don’t even keep track of who spends the most.”

“My gosh, I could buy two houses for what you spent, and I bet it didn’t even cause you to blink.”

“But not the kind of house that you deserve.”

“You don’t know how I grew up, Lisa. I would go wild if I could buy a house for half that amount.”

Lisa looked at Sam and started to wonder how he had grown up. She had been briefed on Mona’s conversation with Sam, and Maggie had found a few other items, but Sam’s history pretty much was a mystery to her. “You deserve more,” she said.

“Why? Because I wear a dress and look like a pretty girl?”

“No! Because I really like you. You are a really nice and decent person, and nice and decent people deserve a break now and then. Good things can happen to good people. Don’t think you don’t deserve good things, Samantha. You do.”

They reached the apartment and Lisa said, “Let’s hurry. We have less than an hour to get dressed.”

They barely made the deadline. Sam’s makeover at the salon saved the day, even though Lisa had to make some touch ups. Sam switched to his red lipstick and it went great with his second red dress, which featured a halter style with a neckline that wasn’t cut too low. It tucked in at the waist and flared out to an asymmetrical hemline that hung from below one knee to above the other knee. Around the hem were extra ruffles for more flow and flair.

Sam wore suntan stockings and three inch, open-toed heels that had a simple strap behind the heel. He enjoyed putting on his new earrings, but he hesitated when putting on his new ring; his fake engagement ring. Why it should have bothered him he could not fathom. But there was disappointment and sadness when he slipped it on his ring finger.

It looked beautiful, and it was big enough and expensive enough to be noticeable enough to any boy that might approach him. It would serve him well. But it still bothered Sam. “What did you expect?” he asked his reflection in the mirror. “Did you really think she was … proposing? Stupid boy! Boys propose, even poor ones; not their girlfriend.”

He aggressively pushed his chair back from the vanity and stood. “God! You really are becoming a girl, aren’t you? You femme!” he spat at the mirror.

Sam picked up his purse and left his bedroom to join the other two in the living room. “Sweet!” Jeff complimented him as he entered their room. “You must really like red. But then again, I can see why.” With surprise in his voice and a big smile on his face Jeff exclaimed, “Samantha, you got some new jewelry today!”

Sam returned the smile and swung his head so that Jeff could see both earrings. “Yes, I did. Lisa was feeling especially generous today, and she bought me these diamond earrings. Do you like them?”

“They look lovely, but I was looking at your hand, and especially your ring finger. Did you two …?”

Sam turned red and let Lisa answer the question. “It’s a decoy for Samantha, to help keep rogue guys away from her in public.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. But … you two do seem to be made for one another. Maybe next time,” he chirped. “But now we have to get our tails in gear. Fortunately, the restaurant isn’t far, and it is straight across the street from the theater. Let’s go girls,” and he ushered them out the door and down to the waiting limo.

At the restaurant they met up with two couples from Jeff’s company. This night, their guests really were couples. Introductions were made and Jeff led them to the maá®tre d’.

The evening’s dinner progressed more smoothly than the previous evening, and even with their tight schedule, they made it to their seats for the Phantom of the Opera.

“Samantha, what did you think of the play?” someone asked.

“It’s only the second play, real play that I’ve ever seen. I really liked the way they portrayed the animals last night. That was pretty clever. But I still like the set and production tonight. And the singing was awesome. I always thought that I would gag on opera, but those actors could really sing. I liked it. The music was good.”

Lisa wrapped her arm through Sam’s and pulled him close to her. Both of the other women gave them an odd look, but neither said a word. All through the meal Lisa and Sam’s body language had been more than friendly, considering that they were both “girls”. But neither Lisa nor Sam cared. Only one thing bothered Sam, and he couldn’t understand why. Or actually, and worse, he could. It was the ring. A $25,000 engagement ring that meant … nothing! Damn it! It meant nothing! More money than he and his mom had in their entire life. And Lisa had spent that much money on Sam and it meant … nothing!

What was he supposed to think? How was he supposed to feel? He wasn’t a trollop. He wasn’t a prostitute. And he certainly didn’t feel like a money-grubbing mistress. Lisa wasn’t even married, so she didn’t need a mistress. Or a boy version of a mistress … a boy dressed and acting like a girl that is. What the hell was he? A sissy? A transvestite? A screwed up, mentally disturbed, effeminate wimp? This just wasn’t right! And that ring. This ring. This … weird, strange, screwed up boy-girl was in love.

Lisa’s conditioning and training were working. She would have loved to be in his mind this night, but she didn’t even realize how much she had screwed up her feminized boy with her ring purchase. Lisa thought she was helping her shy homophobe feel safer, and instead she had destabilized his emotions. In the long run these things would definitely work to her advantage. But tonight, her boy was struggling with his emotions. He wasn’t sure why, and she was in the dark.

Lisa shook Sam’s arm. “Samantha, are you still with us?” Sam had zoned out for a few minutes. “So what do you think?”

“Uhm … I wasn’t listening. I was looking at the bright lights. You know; New York City and the Big Apple.”

“It’s a great city. Amazing isn’t it?” one of the girls tried to brag. Sam didn’t care one iota about the Big Apple. There was only one important thing on his mind, and she was holding onto his arm and his entire self-worth.

“Jeff it’s your call,” Lisa said and she shook Sam back into this universe.

“The Village it is,” and he waved over the chauffeur. “We can all fit in the limo, this way folks.” Sam went with Lisa only because she was pulling him along.

They fell behind the others and Lisa shook her boy back to consciousness. “Are you alright?”

“Oh yeah. I guess the fresh air and the wine just slowed me down for a minute. I’m ok. Where are we going?”

“Clubbing. Is that ok with you?”

“Yeah of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Last night?”

“Lisa, I am sorry about last night. I learned my lesson. I grew up. It will never happen again.” She pulled him into the limo and they set off for their first club.

The evening was successful for Jeff and his friends. Lisa and Sam duly impressed everyone, and the evening passed without incident; at lease as far as Sam was concerned. A few men approached them during the evening and Lisa handled them quickly. Sam didn’t have to deal with anyone but himself. And as much as he tried to stay in the moment, Sam was not himself. The ring on his finger was a constant reminder of his situation and status with Lisa.

He remembered the red dress party at Miss Grace’s when Lisa had explained that he was a courtesan to Lisa. The dictionary defined courtesan as a prostitute consorting with a rich man or nobleman. The description fit well. Lisa was a rich noblewoman, and Sam provided her with sex. Did courtesans ever get married?

But as the evening moved along he tried to put his self-pity out of his mind and he was hoping, even anticipating, their return to Jeff’s. Sam was hoping to apologize properly to Lisa. Even if he was just a feminized male courtesan, he was going to do his best to please his noble woman — his princess.

They didn’t return to Jeff’s until past one o’clock. As they walked into the building, Lisa and Sam dawdled behind Jeff. “Samantha, get ready for bed, then come to my room. Keep that pretty ribbon in your hair, if you would please,” Lisa instructed Sam.

“Do you want me in makeup? Should I wear a bra?”

“No, not tonight. You can take off your corset too. Clean up first, then come see me. But don’t take too long, I might fall asleep.”

Sam didn’t intend on taking too much time. First things first, he removed his earrings and ring and carefully placed them in their velvet boxes. He stripped down and left his clothes lying on the bed. It felt good to get out of his corset and for some reason his heels had bothered him during the evening. Maybe they were a bit tight. He removed his makeup and washed and moisturized his face the way he had been taught. Sam quickly moved back into his room and found a beige cami top and tap pants to wear. As he pulled the top over his head he could feel his glued-on breast forms bouncing around. As much as he continuously reminded himself that he wasn’t a girl, he enjoyed the feel and bounce of his breasts. They made him feel especially feminine, and he found that feeling just fine. Sam was horny and the anticipation of sex with Lisa had made the world right again.

Just for good measure, he spritzed himself with “their” perfume, before he left for his assignation. He cracked his bedroom door and peaked out to make sure Jeff wasn’t watching. He hurriedly skipped across the room, his breasts and erect penis bouncing inside their silky smooth lingerie and making him even more excited. He knocked lightly on Lisa’s door and waited for her acknowledgement.

“Come in Samantha.” Sam quickly ducked in the door and closed it behind him. The only light in the room was the night lamp by Lisa’s bed. She was already lying in bed and waiting for her filly; her effeminate boy. She was wearing a short, see-through babydoll with no panties. The pillows were propped up at the headboard and she was sitting with her legs spread. She patted the satin sheet between her wide open legs, but said nothing. She didn’t have to speak, Sam knew what to do.

Sam slid between her legs and pushed his manicured hands under her wonderfully soft buttocks. He took a deep breath and enjoyed her fragrance, then looked up to his lover with a big smile on his face. “How may I please you, Lisa?”

“Samantha, I would like you to perform cunnilingus on me. I am especially wet and horny tonight, and I want you to perform your magic on me. Show me how gentle and loving, how feminine and soft, and how slow and deliberate you can be as you satisfy these sexual cravings I have. Please make me happy, Samantha.”

“Your wish is my command,” Sam said.

“As it should be my perfumed lover. Yes, I smelled your perfume when you entered my boudoir. It was a very thoughtful touch, Samantha. Now, start with a kiss of exquisite softness and with just the slightest touch of your tongue. Tickle my clitoris and tease me.”

Sam squeezed and lifted Lisa’s buttocks, then softly kissed and licked the labia and then the clitoris of the beautiful woman lying before him. He listened to Lisa’s instructions and performed at her desired pace. He enjoyed the taste and fragrance of her juices and he responded to the pheromones they contained. Sam’s penis was engorged and it ached to be inside Lisa; satisfying both Lisa and Sam. But Sam knew better than to placate that aching by rubbing himself against the smooth satin sheets. He could wait for his turn.

Instead, Sam concentrated on the task in hand. He would lick and suck and flick and tickle with this mouth and lips and tongue, then pause to allow his lover to fully enjoy the exquisitely sensitive stimulation that Sam was providing. Lisa was approaching rapture and Sam was concentrating with every ounce of his attention on bringing Lisa to that point. Sam had to be perfect tonight. Lisa had to explode with the ecstasy of a thousand orgasms and then beg for more. Tonight Sam had to prove his worth and value to his lady and princess. He must prove that he was more than a courtesan. Sam had to show Lisa that he was worth a real engagement ring. He had to!

Lisa heaved off the bed and half lifted Sam at the same time. Her hips thrust towards the heavens in passionate spasms of lustful force and desire and … and finally satisfaction. She bit her lip to stop herself from screaming in ecstasy and waking the denizens of the city … and her host. She held her breath during her spasms, then panted in fatigue at the enormous energy she had expended in driving out her lust and primal emotions. Heavy with sweat and still shivering with the after effects of her orgasm, Lisa fell into her bed with the complete satisfaction of a well sexed woman.

Sam had performed admirably. He deserved a trophy and ribbon. With her eyes still screwed tightly shut, Lisa reached down to pat her lover on his head; to stroke his soft and curly hair, and to tease and pull on the bright red ribbon in his hair. There was his ribbon. No trophy, but a ribbon was there. Lisa opened her eyes and smiled at her benefactor. Sam returned her smile as Lisa untied Sam’s ribbon and pulled it out of his hair. Sam watched as she snaked it up her body and over her dew dripped breast.

She held the ribbon in her hand for several moments before she spoke. “Samantha, you were wonderful. You have no idea what you did to me tonight. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

Sam smiled and said, “It was my pleasure.” Now it was his turn. His aching and straining penis would soon be treated to the tactile administrations of a beautiful and gentle woman. Lisa would thank him for his labor of love. Would she go down on him and provide a blow job? Or would she pull him into her and ride him like a wild stallion? Sam was aching with anticipation.

Lisa spoke, “I am very tired and sleepy from all that effort. You may return to your room now, Samantha.”

Sam jerked up and with eyes and mouth wide open and he stared at Lisa. “What? Why? Did I do something wrong?” And then with a horrible and pathetic voice he asked, “Are you breaking up with me? Lisa?” He was almost in a panic, and he sounded absolutely pathetic.

“No! I am not breaking up with you Samantha. I love you. But yes, you did do something wrong.”

“What, I’m sorry. Let me try again.”

It took Lisa a moment to understand where Sam was coming from. He thought he had done something wrong in bed. He was afraid that he hadn’t properly pleased Lisa, and was being punished for his mistake. “It wasn’t something you did wrong tonight. You were wonderful and you make a phenomenal lover. It’s what you did last night. I am still upset with what you did last night. There are consequences for what you did last night. I’m sorry Samantha, but no sex. Not tonight for sure.”

Sam slumped and looked like he had been kicked in the solar plexus. “But … but … I went down on you. I gave you everything you wanted.” He slumped even further and Lisa remained silent. “It’s not fair,” he whined.

“Dumping me last night and leaving me alone wasn’t fair either,” she shot back. “And why should I suffer for your transgressions? I did nothing wrong, so why shouldn’t I receive some sexual attention and ministrations?”

“But Lisa, I told you I was sorry; very, very sorry. I learned my lesson. Really.”

“Well now there will be no doubt about it. And let me get this straight, you gave me oral sex because you expected me to reciprocate? That’s the only reason?”

“No! Of course not! I did it to please you. I … really, truly like … love you Lisa. I did it to please you. I do everything to please you. I dress like a girl to please you. Who else in the world would even think of doing such a thing?” Sam came to a stop and remained silent.

“I’m sorry Samantha, my mind is made up. This hurts me just as much as it does you. After your wonderful warm-up performance, you have no idea how badly I want to mount you and take you inside me. I am dieing to have sex with you. But I can’t and I won’t. I know you are anxious also. But I’m sorry. Last night has consequences for both of us. You can go back to your room and masturbate.”

“What? No! That’s not right! That’s not fair to you … as my … as my girlfriend and lover. I can’t do that! That’s wasting … myself.”

“Come on Samantha. We both know that 99.9% of all guys masturbate. Are you telling me that you are in that 0.1% group?” she asked sarcastically.

Quietly, “No. But I don’t want to do that. I’d rather not go back to my room and leave … leave both of us like this.” He was pleading.

Both of them were silent for a moment, then Lisa had another one of her brainstorms.

“This will be fantastic,” she thought to herself. “What an opportunity to exert even more control over Sam and his penis!”

“Ok, you don’t have to go back to your room. You can stay here and masturbate.”

“Huh?” Sam couldn’t believe what he had heard. This was utterly ridiculous.

“You can stay here for the night, and maybe tomorrow morning we can see if you are still on probation or not. But!” And she emphasized the but very strongly. “You have to masturbate in front of me.”

“But why? That’s … that’s just wrong; just weird.”

“I’ve never seen a boy masturbate before. I want to see what it looks like. I want to know how you do it. And I might learn something.”

“Learn something? Girls don’t masturbate … at least not like boys.”

“Not for me silly filly, for you. I might learn what pleases you. Who knows how to please you better than yourself? I want to watch what you do, and maybe I can use that for you some other time.” Lisa steeled her voice and said, “That’s the deal. You can stay here if and only if you let me watch you masturbate. And you have to be serious about it. I want to see how boys really masturbate and what they do.

“If you do that, then you can spend the evening — but there will be no sex! Tomorrow morning, we will see. No more negotiating. Those are my terms. Stay and demonstrate how a guy, how you masturbate, or go back to your room.”

“But Lisa … come on, this isn’t the way it should be between a boy and a girl.”

“Final chance. Yes or no. Are you leaving or staying? One chance, Samantha.” Lisa sat up straighter in her bed and crossed her arms to signify her determination.

All Sam could do was give her a single nod.

“Fine,” she said with enthusiasm. “How and where do you usually do it? Standing, sitting or lying in bed?”

“Well, it’s not like I do this often …”

Lisa broke in, “I know; you are in the 0.1%. Fine. Let’s forget that and move along, shall we?”

“Lying down in bed.”

“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.” She crawled across the bed and reached for his cami and pulled it over his head. “What about your panties? Do you want them on?”

“No.”

“Good,” and she grabbed his tap pants and pulled them off him. Sam was now naked except for his breast forms. “Do you need anything? Do you use creams or lubricants of any kind?”

“No.”

“No? But wouldn’t that be better? Smoother?”

“It’s not like I am practiced at this sort of thing,” he said snidely.

“Of course not, I understand.” Lisa slid over to one side of the bed and patted the sheets next to her. “Come here. Lie here. Do you want the pillows fluffed up? Do you sit up a little or do you lie flat, facing the ceiling?”

“I guess I just lie there.”

“Super. Take your position. Do you want your panties? Do you want to cum into your panties or do you spurt over your stomach? Or do you want a Kleenex?”

“I guess I need a Kleenex to wrap around myself.”

“Ok, I understand that, but can we skip that part? I mean it will get in the way and I won’t be able to see as much as possible.”

“That’s fine. It’s your call.”

“No it’s not. I just want to see and learn as much as possible.”

“Fine.”

Sam lay down on the bed in position and … his penis was flaccid. It wasn’t just flaccid, it was tiny. It was shrunk like that time out in below zero weather on a mountain top in Canada. He was miniscule. Lisa smiled and reached over to give him a little stroke. “Ok, go ahead,” she urged him.

Sam was as self conscious as a guy can possibly be. He looked at Lisa, intending to make one last plea for sanity, but she was grinning and staring at his penis. “Let’s go Samantha. I’m tired and I want to go to sleep.”

“Fuck!” he thought to himself. “She is the weirdest, most kinky girl in the world.” Sam closed his eyes and took hold of himself. He slowly began stroking himself, trying to get a rise. But it took several moments before he started to respond. This wasn’t exactly the most stimulating atmosphere a guy could hope for.

As soon as he had himself erect, a bit of pre-cum came to the tip of his cock. “Just a minute,” Lisa said. She reached forward and with the tip of her finger wiped the pre-cum off his penis and tasted it. She moved it around with her tongue and coated the roof of her mouth. She liked it. “Is this called pre-cum?” she asked.

“I really don’t know,” Sam answered honestly. “I guess so, it makes sense.”

“Ok, continue.”

Gritting his teeth and wondering what in the world he saw in this girl, he continued. Without a doubt this was the most humiliating moment in his life. This was worse than the time Miss Mona forced him to tuck his penis. And worse than the berating he had received about sleeping with her daughter. This was just, plain stupid. It was emasculating. It irked him to no end. But what would have irked him even more was if he knew what Lisa was thinking.

Lisa was thinking on exactly the same wavelength as Sam. “This has to be the most humiliating thing I have ever seen. It’s fantastic. He is such a wimp! He is such a sissy. He is such an effeminate girly boy. I love it! I own him! He is mine!” Lisa was ecstatic and rather proud of her quick thinking. “Look at him bang his little pee pee! What man would ever do that in front of his girl? Only a wuss!”

Lisa wanted to humiliate him more, so she started asking him questions in a clinical manner. “Do you ever hold your testicles? Do you squeeze them? How tight do you squeeze your penis? Do you always use the same hand? What are you thinking about? Do you fantasize about something? Girls? Dresses or lingerie? Me? Something else?”

Sam refused to dignify her questions with an answer. He continued onward until he finally ejaculated over his bare stomach. Lisa loved it. How exciting and incongruous. Sam’s tightlacing was starting to work and his waist almost looked curvy and feminine. And he was still wearing his breast forms, and of course his hair was curly and feminine. It was so cute to see him spurt over himself. She was getting wet again, but unfortunately she couldn’t and wouldn’t do anything about it. She had set the rules.

“That was very nice, Samantha,” she said seriously. “It comes shooting out with a lot of force, doesn’t it?” Lisa leaned forward and wiped her finger through some semen lying on Sam’s stomach. She brought it to her nose and sniffed it, then licked it off her finger. She still couldn’t put the odor or taste into words. So she picked up another glob with her fingers and held it under Sam’s nose.

“What does it smell like to you?”

Sam didn’t want to play and he said nothing.

“Open up,” Lisa said.

“What?”

“Come on, open up,” she said. “I want you to taste it and tell me what it tastes like.”

“I don’t know,” he answered in frustration.

“Do it or go back to your room. Come on Samantha, cooperate for a change.”

Sam opened his mouth and Lisa slid her finger in his mouth. He licked the semen off her finger and rolled it around his mouth. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

Lisa decided to quit teasing him. She grabbed a Kleenex and wiped off his stomach. “Go finish cleaning up and come back to bed.” She threw the Kleenex on the floor and rolled over to her side of the bed.

Sam did as he was told, taking his lingerie with him. Lisa had to force herself from reaching between her legs and masturbating like her epicene boy. “That was wonderful,” she thought. “It is amazing what you can force a boy to do with the power of sex. He is going to make the most precious wife ever. I can’t wait to make him even more feminine and then watch him do that again. He will do anything I tell him to do. I just love that boy!”

When Sam returned from the bathroom, he was wearing his cami and tap pants. He climbed into his side of the bed turned out the light and faced away from Lisa. Lisa crawled across the bed, gently pulled him onto his back and kissed him. “Good night Samantha.”

They both returned to their private world on their own side of the bed and began to relax. After a few minutes and some tossing around Sam said, “Lisa, I have something to say.”

“What?”

“I am really sorry about last night. I won’t do it again. But I didn’t have a good day either.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure I can tell you. And even if I could, I wouldn’t have earlier tonight. But now … because ... now I will.” Sam paused and Lisa said nothing, allowing Sam to collect his thoughts. “I don’t know how to verbalize this. So please try to look through my words and listen to my thoughts.

“Today when you said you wanted to buy me a ring … Lisa, my heart jumped into my throat. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean … I mean that I was thinking that maybe you were … (swallow) … proposing.” Sam stopped and neither girl said a word.

“Lisa, there is no reason I should have thought that; it was stupid and presumptuous. I know. But that is what I thought. And it was a wonderful thought. I don’t know why ... it makes no sense I know, but that is the way it was.

“And then when you said it was a decoy …” Lisa heard a sniff. “It felt like my heart had been cut out and stomped on. I don’t know what is happening, Lisa. I feel totally out of control here. I don’t even know what gender I am for Christ sake. But for one moment I was the happiest guy in the world. And the next … and I know I shouldn’t think this way, but I can’t help it, but I blamed you. I blamed you for … something, something I can’t define in words. The closest I can come up with is spurn. You spurned me.

“It doesn’t make sense and I apologize. But a couple of times tonight you had to shake me and bring me back to earth. That is where I was.”

Lisa rolled over and spooned against the back of Sam. She hugged him for a few minutes.

“And you know the other weird thing?” Sam asked quietly. “This shows you how little logic I had, and how … stupid I was thinking. You had just spent a quarter of a million dollars on me, and I didn’t think $25,000 was enough for a ring. Isn’t that stupid? Both of those amounts are literally beyond my comprehension. My mom never had more than fifty dollars in her purse her entire life. We had to skip breakfast because we couldn’t afford cereal. And yet, I thought $25,000 wasn’t enough for an engagement ring.”

Lisa hugged him tighter. Sam continued to sniff. “And what finishes off this totally bizarre and weird tale from the twilight zone is me. I’m a guy. Why in the hell should I care about a ring? Shit! If I was half a man I would ask you to marry me.” They were quiet for another minute and then Sam added, “But if I took the initiative, you would have to settle for a $25 ring.” He chuckled for just a fleeting moment, then began sobbing. He tried extra hard to stop and hide his sobbing, but Lisa heard and felt him. Loud and clear.

Lisa finally answered Sam, but in a very quiet whisper. “Samantha, I was totally insensitive today. I was too busy trying to prove my mettle against that store owner. It was so stupid because I knew I didn’t have to do it. And then the way I handled the ring was … just dumb beyond belief. But I want you to know something. I agree with you, $25,000 isn’t enough.

“We’ve known each other for only half a year or so. But we have been really close for these last 5 weeks or so. And I have learned so much about you, so many wonderful things that I believe that I am falling in love with you. But it is still a little bit too early. My family needs more time to accept us. Trust me, they will, but you know how conservative they are. They will want us to make sure about each other.

“And we should. We should both be absolutely positive before we make that ultimate commitment. But Samantha, I know we will. And when we are ready, you are not allowed to propose to me. You tell me when the time is ready, and I promise you that I will make a quarter million dollars sound like lunch money. Ok?”

Lisa could feel Sam sobbing and shaking. She didn’t need more of an answer.

CHAPTER 33

Maggie was standing outside the door to Sam’s college apartment. With her cell phone in one hand and the other prepared to knock on the door. She pressed the send button on her phone. With her ear against the door she could hear the tell-tale chiming of a cell phone ringing on the other side. She lifted her hand …

Bill was having the time of his life. He had slept in Samantha’s bed last night, wearing a silky purple negligee that hung down to his ankles. It had wrapped around him during the night, forcing him to wake just enough to straighten it out then allow him to fall back to sleep. It had been a wonderful experience.

In the morning he took a long luxurious bath using Samantha’s scented bath beads. The water had turned into a wonderful spray of bubbles and sweet lavender fragrances. He luxuriated in the tub, re-warming the water several times. When he was on the border of turning into a prune, he stepped out and dried himself. He wanted desperately to shave his legs, but he knew that would cause him too many problems in gym class and the dorm showers. So he settled for an extra close shave of his face.

Bill went through the cupboards until he found some of Samantha’s body lotion and he applied it to his body, giving himself a nice fragrance. After slipping into a silky robe, he settled down in front of the vanity and tried to remember Samantha’s instructions on how to apply his makeup. It wasn’t a very good effort, but he was still new at it. With more practice Bill was confident that he could do better. The problem would be finding those opportunities. But little did he know his problems were about to be solved … and multiplied.

Bill had to go through a couple of drawers to find lingerie to wear. He had a note pad and he made notes as to which drawers different items came from. On Sunday he had to try and put the apartment back together as close as possible to how it had been. He put on a pink underwire brassiere and stuffed it with stockings from the drawer one down. He kept out two stockings, and pulled them up his hairy legs. It covered some of his hair, which was all he could expect from them. In additional drawers Bill found panties, a girdle for tucking and one of Samantha’s older - and larger- corsets. Bill had no idea what the corset liner was for, so he skipped that part of his dressing.

In the closet Bill found a pink dress with long sleeves but a short skirt; perfect to cover up hairy and muscular arms, but yet show off his shapely legs. Even though they were hairy, Bill thought he had shapely legs. Samantha had a beautiful collection of shoes, but they were all too small for Bill. After trying on several different heels, he tried a pair of calf high boots. They actually fit, and they had a nice tall heel for him to walk in and feel sexy. The boots didn’t actually go with his outfit, but beggars can’t be choosers. He took the boots and was happy to have anything.

He put on a wig that he managed to buy for himself, and he was set for a wonderfully sexy day. His nails were red from the previous evening, and he enjoyed looking at his nails while he had a small breakfast. After breakfast he practiced walking around the apartment, swishing his hips and practicing his walk in high heels. He sat down in front of the television and made sure to smooth his little dress under him. Bill crossed his legs in his best female imitation, and flipped through the channels on the television.

While flipping through the channels he heard his cell phone playing a tune in the kitchen. Doing his best runway strut he walked to the kitchen and found his phone. He looked at the text message and a shiver ran down his spine. It said, “Don’t try and hide. Answer the door.” Just as he read it a second time, there was a knock at the front door.

Panic set in. He wanted to hide in the bedroom and pretend he wasn’t there. But it might be the maid, and she would come in any way. And what about this text message? Someone knew he was there. And they must know he was crossdressing, or why else would they have said don’t go hide? There was a second knock at the door and a female voice called out, “Bill, please open the door.”

Busted! Big time busted. Bill tried to run scenarios through his mind, but he was thinking at the speed of mud. Slow moving and thick mud at that. “Shit!” he said to himself. “I’m dead meat.” His heart was pounding a hundred beats per second and his throat tasted bile. But he just couldn’t see a way out of his predicament. He had no choice. Bill slid off the door chain and turned the dead bolt. Then with a huge breath and exhale, he opened the door and stepped back.

Maggie slipped her cell phone back in her purse, and looked at Bill. “Pathetic,” she thought to herself. “Hello Bill,” she said in a casual voice. She didn’t wait for an invitation, and as she walked in she closed the door behind her. Bill said nothing; he just stared at Maggie as she took a quick look around the apartment. Maggie walked over to the main chair in front of the television and found the remote. She sat down, turned off the television and then called over Bill.

“Bill, would you please sit over here?” and she pointed to a chair near hers. Bill did not strut over to his chair. He walked like a robot on the way to the junk heap. He took his seat and faced his executioner. Maggie took some time to pull her thoughts together. And during that time Bill was getting sicker. He spent the time looking at the carpet and wondering if he could keep his breakfast down.

“Bill, it looks like you enjoy crossdressing.” It was a rhetorical comment and needed no response from Bill. “And it looks like you need some more practice. Much more practice.” Bill still said nothing. “I can make that possible for you. I can grant your greatest wish. I can give you a summer of not only crossdressing, but training in all the aspects of becoming a passable girl.”

Maggie let that sink in for a moment, while Bill continued to stare first at Maggie and then at the carpet. “Bill, would you be interested in that?”

Bill grunted and shook his head.

“You are allowed to speak. Do you think you might be interested?”

“Maybe.”

“Good, here is how it would work. You would be working for minimum wage at a charity group in downtown Washington D.C. Don’t worry you will be in a safe part of town. You would have a place to stay and you would receive full boarding and room. No utilities to pay. No costs at all to you. In addition, you would have a trainer; a woman who is experienced in helping boys live out their grandest fantasies. She would show you how to dress, apply makeup, style your hair, walk, talk everything.

“It is actually a very expensive service, and I will pick up all the costs. In addition, as I said, you will be asked to do a little community charity work, and you will receive money for school tuition next fall. Does this sound of interest to you?”

“Yes.”

“Now, nothing in this world is free. You know that right?”

“Yes.”

“Here is what I want from you; I want you to immediately cut off all contact that you have with Samantha. It must be total, it must be final and there must never be an exception. Never. You do not exchange texts or email. You do not answer any calls or texts from her. You clean up, leave here and never look back. Samantha must think you fell off the edge of the world. No matter how much she wants to contact you, you do not communicate with her in any way, shape or form. Nothing.

“Can you do this?”

“I can try.”

“No, you must not try. You must succeed. It is imperative for her that you do so. I have to have your word on this Bill; absolutely, concretely and never a flicker of doubt in your mind. It has to be this way. I will ask again; in exchange for me paying for the best summer of your life, will you promise me that you will never again contact or communicate with Samantha? And I want you to know, Samantha’s communications will be monitored for any such contact. Can you do that for me, Bill?”

Bill took a big breath and said, “Yes, I can do that.”

Maggie gave him a big smile. “Excellent Bill. Here is how things will work. You will finish school on what day?”

“Thursday of finals week.”

“Between now and then a woman named April will contact you. She will make all arrangements for you, including transportation. Just follow her instructions and you won’t have a worry in the world. It’s that easy. She will take total care of you Bill. By the end of the summer you will be looking like a debutante.

“Any questions?”

“Just one. Why? Why are you doing this?”

“I am doing this for Samantha. That is all you need to know. Anything else?”

“I guess not.”

“Fine. April will call you tomorrow most likely. Now, before you change clothes, clean up and leave I have one more thing I would like you to do. Please tell me everything that you and Samantha have discussed for the last two weeks. Leave out nothing, no matter how small or unimportant you might think it is.”

When Bill was finished narrating his story, Maggie sent him off to clean up. On his way out Maggie said, “Remember, her name is April. You will have nothing to worry about this summer. Everything is being handled for you. Have a wonderful time, Bill.”

Bill left and Maggie fell back into her chair. “Samantha, Samantha, Samantha, you talk too much. Lisa is going to have to teach you the benefits of discretion. Lucky Bill is going to get much more than he bargained for, and you placed in him in this position. I hope he likes living as a girl for the rest of his life.” She took out her cell and placed a call. “April it is Maggie. Ok, here is the deal. I want you to take him the full course; all the way. Take all the time you need and give him the full training for becoming a domestic. He will spend the rest of his life as a maid. If he has the aptitude for working around a stove, you might think of making me some kitchen help out of him. I’ll check up on a quarterly basis, and of course I’ll handle all expenses for as long as it takes. You may call him Wilma. And dear, I want you to convince him this is voluntary; even though it is not. You may take whatever steps you deem necessary to move him into his new vocation. Thanks a million April. You have my number if he doesn’t show. Thanks again. Bye.”

Maggie sighed and stood up to survey the apartment. As she walked around she placed another call, “Chas I am ready. You can come clean the place out.”

CHAPTER 34

Lisa and Sam woke together in their shared bed. Lisa gave Sam a good morning kiss. “Go back to your room and clean up. Take your bath, moisturize and put on a really sexy robe. Something shear and daring. And take your ribbon with you. If you would please, tie your hair back in a ponytail. I’ll get cleaned up also. You have about 30 minutes before I come calling on my best filly. Now get!”

Sam got. He returned to his room and took a nice soaking bath. Not only was the bath relaxing, but it was the first time in weeks that he had gone more than 30 minutes without his corset. It had felt wonderful to sleep without it last night. And now — if all went well — he was going to have a tryst without it. True bliss!

Sam spent only ten minutes in the tub before following up on the rest of his instructions. He moisturized his face and body as usual, brushed and flossed, put on his deodorant and pulled out a filmy babydoll to wear. He had to sit at his vanity to carefully brush and pull back his hair, so he could use the ribbon to tie it back into a ponytail. When he finished, he whipped his ponytail back and forth a few times before a thought struck him. “Ponytail? Filly?” Was Lisa connecting the two? She could be clever at times.

As long as Sam was sitting at his vanity, and he had a few minutes left, he decided to do something else for his noble princess. He took out his lip liner and carefully outlined his lips, taking care to create a deep cupids bow. Then he used pot gloss and a small brush to color his lips. The red lipstick and red ribbon peaking out from behind his head complimented one another. With a spritz of perfume he was ready to perform for his sexy princess. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to perform solo like last night. That thought was too recent and humiliating for him, and he tried to put it out of his mind.

He quickly stood to get the thought out of his head, and posed in front of his mirror. His breast forms gave a nice protrusion to his babydoll and made him look well endowed — and sexy. And he liked his hair pulled back in a ponytail. He would have to use that style more often. And below his short negligee his penis was erect and visible. He looked ready for Lisa.

Lisa knocked on the door and stepped in without waiting for a reply. She pushed the door closed, then leaned back against it in a provocative pose. She was wearing a tiny yellow pushup bra and a g-string. She too had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and — surprise, surprise —she was wearing dark red lipstick. She smiled and asked, “How do I look, Samantha?”

“Sweet,” he drawled. “And you wore lipstick too. I guess we think alike.”

“Two beautiful girls on the same wavelength, we are. So if that’s the case, what am I thinking? What does your telepathy tell you?”

“You are thinking that I look too sexy to be left standing here, and you want to jump my bones.”

“And your boner!” They both giggled as they came together and pressed their lips against each other. Gently they kissed, not yet ready to mess and smear their lipstick. Lisa opened her hand and showed Sam the little package in her palm. “Let’s put this to good use, shall we?”

“We shall!”

Lisa lifted Sam’s babydoll over his head and tossed it on a chair. Then she unfastened her bra and her g-string. “Samantha, go lie on the bed and give me your sexiest “screw-me” pose.”

Sam threw the duvet back, piled the pillows at the head of the bed, then posed in a reclining position, with one leg up and his penis pointing straight at Lisa. He pursed his lips and said in a husky voice, “Why don’t you come up and visit me sometime?”

“Mae West. And I think I will visit you right now.” Sam rolled on his back and Lisa straddled her lady-boy. She unrolled the condom over Sam’s cock and stroked it a couple of times. “Samantha,” she cooed, “you have the most precious clitoris in the whole world. Wherever did you get it?”

“It’s hand made.” The two of them laughed at Sam’s pun.

“Then let me handle it,” and Lisa gripped his penis and held it in place while she sat down on it, sliding it up and into her moist vagina. She remained in a sitting position and squeezed her muscles, feeling the gentle pulse of his cock inside her. She used her fingernails to gently scratch Sam’s stomach, while she looked into his eyes. Then ever so slowly she began rocking her hips and sliding up and down on Sam’s penis. Just a little at first, hardly noticeable. But slowly she gained speed and more depth. As she continued she carefully monitored the effeminate boy lying beneath her. At the first sign of impending ejaculation she stopped. She allowed the concupiscent boy to relax and regroup. She counted one silently to herself.

It was Lisa’s intention to bring him almost to the verge no less than 5 times, before allowing him permission to fulfill his craving. She was sure it would intensify his pleasure, and it would prolong her ability to please herself as well. “Samantha needs to learn how to do this,” she thought to herself. ”Self control is critical in successfully becoming my inamorata. He has served well as my inamorato, but now it is time to morph into my feminine inamorata.”

And so once again, after ample time for relaxation, Lisa began rocking oh so slightly and slowly. Carefully she proceeded, feeling and watching for the first tell-tail sign of ejaculation. “Two,” she told herself as she brought herself to a halt. “I’m not going to make it to five,” she admitted. “I want it too much. I want to drive him two feet deep into this mattress. Next time out we can go for five.”

Lisa lowered herself onto Sam’s body. She remained motionless as she gently kissed Sam’s lipstick covered lips. “One, two three, four and five. Five kisses will have to do it this time,” she thought, as she began pushing her pelvis into Sam’s body. Stomach against stomach, breasts against boobs, she raised herself on her elbows to allow her to shift more weight against Sam’s hips. She wanted to drive him down and against the bed so hard that he would cry for mercy. She clamped her eyes shut, gritted her teeth and threw her head back to face the heavens. “Push! Squeeze! Drive! Pin him down like a little boy; like a sissy being dominated by his older sister. Dominate him! Over power my prissy little fille de joie. Take power over his body and use it! Use it for me! Satisfy me! Harder! Faster! Stronger! Lunge …” Lisa screamed in ecstasy. She screamed so loud that Sam would have jumped if hadn’t been pinned to his bed. And after her short, but highly gratifying scream, she fell onto her boy, panting and sweating.

Cheek to cheek they rested and allowed their bodies to recover; to lower pulse rates and resume breathing at normal rates. To allow their bodies to cool down and their muscles to relax. Post coitus had never felt so grand for either of them. They were getting good at this pastime. And they hadn’t even smeared their lipstick.

“This is better than riding horses,” Lisa thought to herself. “But then again, I am riding my filly, so it’s almost the same thing.” Sam wondered why Lisa began giggling to herself.

“Too much pleasure,” she said. “I can’t control myself.”

A pair of pretty, ponytailed girls spent the day sightseeing and shopping. New York was a unique city and there was plenty to do. They had brunch at a local hotel and an early dinner at a quiet deli in uptown Manhattan. They caught an early chick flick and were back to Jeff’s by ten o’clock. It had been Sam’s best day in New York City. It started right, he made no mistakes during the day, they had laughed and hugged and kissed and shopped and held hands and kissed some more. Sam wore his engagement ring and began to actually enjoy it. At times he pretended that it actually was his engagement ring and he proudly displayed it for anyone looking his way.

And that night, entwined in Lisa’s arms, wearing his long negligee and snuggled under the duvet on Lisa’s bed he dreamed of wearing a wedding dress. Sam was almost Samantha. In his own mind and in the bliss of his dreams, the transformation was almost complete. It wouldn’t take much longer. Soon, during those ugly, rational moments of complete consciousness — some call it day - Sam would calmly and completely accept his fate, and Sam would disappear. And that day Samantha would be truly born. But Sam still had more psychological crises to endure. Life wasn’t that easy.

Monday morning they finished their packing and called for the limo. Lisa gave Jeff a kiss on the lips and a long, intimate hug. “I owe you one Lisa.”

“And I shall collect. And when I do, I intend to repay you.”

“It was nice having you here Samantha. You are welcome in my home whenever you are in New York. Please come back.”

Lisa and Samantha rode to LaGuardia to catch their jet back home. They were already at the airport when the jet arrived with Lisa’s Aunt Michelle. They flew the jet to North Carolina and school, where Lisa departed. Then Sam flew to Dulles in Washington D. C. where Maggie met him.

“Welcome home Samantha,” Maggie said as she gave Sam a surprisingly tight hug. “Just bring your purse and lap top, Chas will collect your other things later.” Maggie led Sam to the parking lot and explained, “We don’t have room in the car for much more than you and me.”

It soon become obvious to Sam why there was no room. Maggie led him up to an antique 1966, candy-red corvette convertible. Maggie had the roof down. “Awesome.”

“Can you drive a stick?” Maggie asked.

Sam was pleasantly surprised, but dejected at the same time. It seemed like Maggie might let him drive this beauty, but Sam had never driven a stick. “I wish I could Miss Maggie. But the answer is no.”

“Well, you can’t drive home, but we will work on that this week. I’ll teach you.”

“That would be wonderful.”

Maggie drove back to the mansion, making small talk and playing tour guide. They reached the main drive to the mansion and Maggie pulled over, pulled the parking brake and stepped out of the car. “No time like the present Samantha. Let’s give you that first lesson. It’s nice and flat here, so this is a good place to start your lessons.”

Sam jumped behind the steering wheel, adjusted the seat and mirrors, and then Maggie gave him a description of how a manual worked. “Ok, let the clutch out slowly and step on the gas.” Sam brought the car to an abrupt and jerky stop with his first attempt. “No problem,” Maggie said. “It happens to everyone. Let’s try again.”

Maggie was a wonderful and patient tutor, as the two of them spent over an hour driving around the estate. Later, Maggie directed Sam out onto the drive and finally through the neighborhood. When they were finished Maggie directed Sam over to the garage area. She said, “I’ll park it in the garage. Wednesday, if you feel up to it, we’ll spend some time on the hill behind the stable. Hill starts are tricky and require lots of practice.”

“Awesome, Miss Maggie. Thank you.”

“My pleasure Samantha.” On their walk back to the mansion Maggie said, “Would you like to help me prepare dinner?”

“Sure. I have nothing else to do.”

“You will need a maid uniform then.” Maggie called over the downstairs maid, “Janice, Samantha needs a uniform and I can’t loan her one of mine; I’m a little too big for her. Would you be a dear and run home and get one of yours for her? I’ll add enough money to your check this week to buy a new one.”

“Certainly, Miss Maggie. It would be my pleasure.”

As Janice left via the back kitchen door Sam asked, “How far away does she live? How much time do I have to freshen up?”

“Janice and her family own one of the family houses. It’s only a ten minute round trip via golf cart.”

“Where? I don’t understand.”

Maggie had something new to explain to Sam. “There are 5 houses on the back side of the estate. They are on the street that goes around the property. Those houses are reserved for servants. They can own them and build equity, but they are only allowed to sell them to other family employees. It’s all in the contract. We have golf cart paths through the back of the estate right up to the back door of those houses. So the girls commute with golf carts. She will be back in no time. If you need to freshen up, go ahead. Use Harriet’s bedroom and I’ll have Janice bring up the uniform as soon as she gets here. Ok?”

“Thanks, Miss Maggie. See you in a few.”

Sam needed to use the toilet and freshen his makeup, and he wanted to fluff his hair back into some semblance of a style. By the time he had finished there was a knock on the door. Janice was there with a dress wrapped up in plastic. “Miss Samantha, here is a uniform for you. There is a choker inside that you have to wear. Also, you need to wear black stockings and black 2 inch heels. I don’t know if Miss Maggie will require you to put up your hair, but we have to have our hair tied behind or put up. Would you like some help?”

“Thank you Janice, but I should be ok. If I need help I’ll call.”

“Yes ma’am,” and Janice left.

Sam hung the dress on a hook by the big mirror and stripped off the plastic. “So now I’m a maid,” Sam said aloud. “Why is this family so weird? And why are they trying so hard to turn me into a full time girl? I feel like a Barbie doll.”

Sam took off his dress and stripped down to his lingerie. He went through Harriet’s dresser to find a new package of black stockings. Sam put on the maid dress, which was a short sleeve, black dress with a short, full skirt. He pulled a petticoat up and under the shirt, and it filled out the skirt. Over the top he put on a white apron with a white sash around the waist. It was a simple uniform, but made it perfectly clear that the wearer was a maid.

A short search through Harriet’s shoe collection found the proper shoes. He clipped the choker around his neck and left his hair tied back in a pony tail. His ponytail was tied with the red ribbon from New York.

“How do I look?” Sam asked Maggie as she did a quick spin around.

“Very nice,” Maggie said. Maggie was wearing her maid uniform also, although hers was not as short as Sam’s. “I thought I would make Weiner Schnitzel for dinner tonight. Have you ever cooked Weiner Schnitzel, Samantha?”

“Nope. I’ve never cooked much more than cold cereal or soup.”

“Well it’s about time you learned how to find your way around a kitchen. I don’t mean to brag, but I did graduate from a culinary school.”

“I know,” Sam said, “Lisa told me. You went to the CIA.”

Maggie smiled and said, “That’s right. So Samantha, I feel qualified to give you a proper introduction to cooking. And there is one thing you need to know up front; I love cooking and especially baking. So if I get a little over excited, please bear with me.”

“Of course, Miss Maggie.”

Maggie gave Sam a nice smile. “The first thing we are going to do is make a small salad for us. I’m a little hungry. How about you?”

As they worked together, Maggie was bubbly and happy. She loved cooking and she loved having Sam with her. Sam could tell that Maggie was enjoying his company. After they finished their salad Sam decided to take a chance.

“Miss Maggie, can I ask a personal question?”

“Maybe, let’s hear it.”

“Well, it’s kind of awkward, so please forgive me, but I can’t help but wonder about your relationship with everyone. You work like a maid at times, and at other times you are an executive in the company. Miss Mona said you run the electronics business, and you have an extensive antique car collection, but I don’t know if you are an aunt or just a friend or how you fit in.”

“That is a complicated question Samantha. And eventually it will be explained to you, but not by me. I am not allowed to tell you that. Suffice it to say that Miss Mona is like a wife to me, and Lisa is like a daughter.” Maggie smiled, making it clear that the topic was finished.

It was a non answer for Sam, but it didn’t seem to matter. Somehow, Maggie was close to Mona and Lisa, and if she wasn’t family, she seemed to have full family rights. “Chef Adams in New York called Lisa your daughter.”

“I was like her mother when she was young. I changed her diapers, kissed her boo boos, read her bedtime stories and comforted her when she had nightmares. So he wasn’t far from wrong.”

Maggie must be some sort of nanny, Sam decided. Maggie began Sam’s first cooking lesson and they had a nice time. Maggie was so friendly that Sam had to continually remind himself to address her as Miss Maggie. Sam slipped once, and Maggie quickly, but kindly corrected him. “It’s a family rule Samantha, and it relates to respect for older generations. Anyone from an older generation must be addressed properly and often formally. And being from outside the family, you will have to address all family members, including your same generation, by Miss. The hierarchy within the family is formal and rigid.

“As long as we’re on this topic, let me explain a little further. The help around the house is always addressed by their first name. And they in turn must address you as Miss. The hierarchy continues as you can see.

“There are several other etiquette rules that you will have to learn and follow Samantha. The Hawthorne family is different than other families. We have distinct rules and attitudes that are different than you have grown up with, and you will have to learn and follow these rules. Most of them hearken back to the days of Miss Grace when she was still forming her family. They are not right or wrong; just different. It will take some time for you to learn them, but we will help you.”

More clues and tips for Samantha. Maggie’s non-explanation of her relationship should have given Sam another clue. Her explanation of etiquette should have started Sam thinking about those relationships. But once again, Sam’s upbringing and paradigms blocked him from thinking outside the box. His patriarchal view of the universe didn’t allow him to even consider the possibility or fallout of living in a matriarchal family. And he especially never considered a matriarchal family that dominated and subjected their males to feminine rituals and lifestyles. And so Sam blindly stumbled forward, not anticipating or comprehending Lisa’s and her family’s intentions for him — or soon to be her.

That evening he learned more about life around the Hawthorne mansion. Up until now, most of what he had seen focused around entertaining a guest — him. But beginning that evening, he saw more of the normal patterns and schedules. Chas delivered Miss Mona home at 5:00. She and Maggie typically left work between 4:00 and 4:30 to beat some of the rush hour traffic. From 5:00 to 7:00 was dinner hour. Maggie usually had one of her girls either do the cooking, or at least start the cooking. Mona retired to her study and caught up on house business. There was no cocktail hour when they were alone.

By 7:00 the dinner would be over, the clean up would be turned over to the maids and Mona would return to her study until about 9:00. Maggie handled other household items, and set schedules for the domestic help. Maggie would sometimes retire to her antique cars or evaluate new electronic equipment. By ten, the house was dark. And the next day started with a 6:00 AM alarm.

That evening Miss Mona discussed Sam’s schedule for Tuesday. It would be a busy day for him. He would go to work with Miss Mona and Miss Maggie, leaving the house at 7:15. They would arrive by 8:30, and Sam was going to shadow Miss Mona for the morning. After lunch he would go to the salon for a couple of items, including something brand new; hair hi-lighting. And after the salon would be his facial peel. Then Sam would travel home with his future in-laws.

After dinner, when Mona and Maggie headed off for their normal routine, Sam went to the study and looked into his homework. He tried to call Bill and see how his weekend had gone but there was no answer. Sam texted him with the same lack of luck. Bill must have been out and about.

Sam retired to Harriet’s room around 10:00. He carefully hung up his new maid uniform and stripped down to his basics: breast forms and brassier, and corset. He no longer had to leave on his panties and girdle to hold his tucked penis and testicles. Sam enjoyed that bit of reprieve. He cleaned up, removed his makeup and moisturized his skin and took care of his toilet. He wore frilly blue knickers and a babydoll to bed.

CHAPTER 35

Sam had ordered a 6:00 alarm, and it arrived earlier than he wanted. He rubbed his eyes and sluggishly rolled out of bed. He stripped down to his birthday suit then took his position on the floor. As usual, he ripped off one hundred sit ups. He had been doing this for 5 weeks, and the process was getting easier. And even though he couldn’t see it in the mirror, he felt like his abs were getting tighter. He hoped that they would soon be showing up visibly as well.

Sam drew himself a hot bath full of fragrant bubbles, and soaked for fifteen minutes, allowing his skin, and especially the area trapped under his corset, to soak up the emollients and soften for the day. The Hawthorne baths all had towel warmers and he loved wrapping a warm towel around his body upon exiting from the tub. He didn’t wash his hair, so that would speed up his routine for the day.

After finishing the bath routine, he went into the dresser drawers set aside for his clothes, and found a clean bra, panties, and the rest of his lingerie. Wrapping his bra around his chest and situating his breast forms in their cups always exhilarated him. This practice of impersonating a girl wasn’t his cup of tea, but if it had an upside it was the tug and weight, and the jiggle and wiggle of his breasts. They made him feel like a real girl more than anything else he did. And if he was supposed to impersonate one, he might as well feel like one.

On the other hand his lipstick and makeup made him look like a girl. His boobs were important, and the bigger the better, but after dressing like a girl for 5 weeks, some of his ideas about feminine beauty had changed slightly. The girls in the salon were gorgeous beyond description, and the single most consistent contributor to their beauty was their skin; and especially their complexion. Sam would never have skin like theirs — or so he thought. How could he, he was a guy. But his foundation and makeup gave him his best chance to approach their beautiful skin.

Number three on his list of criteria for ultimate feminine beauty was his hair. And he did love his hair. The stunning saturation of his auburn coloring and the wonderful curls from his permanent framed his face and gave him a nice and proper girl face. Without his hair framing his face he felt his facial shape was too round. And as much as he was starting to like wearing his hair back in a ponytail, the shape of his face was the only drawback for him.

As these random thoughts ran through his mind, he had to stop and remind himself of reality. “You are not a girl, Sam! Don’t let them turn you into one. A couple more weeks … well wait there is Paris and Europe. But after Europe you are back to being a handsome stud once more. You are starting to think too much like a girl. You’ve been spending too much time in salons and thinking that you have to look and dress and talk and act like a perfect lady. Stick it out just a little longer kid. Hold on, don’t let them brainwash you beyond hope.”

But after only 5 weeks, his pep talk was losing some of its pizzazz. Lisa was winning. Sam wouldn’t, couldn’t admit it. Even deep inside he would never admit it, but he was losing the war. The age old war between the sexes was being turned around on Sam. It was now the war to blur the sexes, and incrementally it was becoming the war to feminize Sam.

And Sam was becoming feminized. The way he walked and talked and held his head and smiled were becoming ingrained in his mannerisms. Without the clothing and makeup, Sam would have looked and acted effeminate in all of those mannerisms. Even sitting and standing showed his effeminate traits. Anyone seeing Sam dressed as boy would have thought him to be an effeminate boy and probably a sissy too. There would be no going back. Lisa was winning.

And maybe Sam was also.

Sam finished slipping into his lingerie, pulled on his stockings and then tightened his corset. He wore a black dress with beautiful and colorful beaded designs crocheted below the waist. The dress was a crinkle georgette overdress with empire waist, cap sleeves and a hem ending at the ankles. It was pretty but not too dressy or formal. With black three inch heels he was ready for his day as Miss Mona’s intern.

“Samantha, that is a beautiful dress,” Maggie told him.

“Very pretty,” Mona added. “You have very nice taste in your wardrobe. You will make a wonderful intern. Now, same rules as last time; you talk to no one, and no one talks to you without my approval. Understand?”

“Perfectly,” Sam said as he wolfed down his eggs.

When they reached the office, the three of them rode the private elevator to the executive floor. Mona made it a point to introduce Sam to everyone they met, and especially her receptionist Kristin and executive secretary Sophie. Both girls impressed Sam with their beauty, and especially their skin and complexion. They were both very buxom and thin, and they had long, curly hair that cascaded over their shoulders. Sophie was the most remarkable as far as Sam was concerned. She was in her forties, at least, and yet she was still beautiful. Her skin was almost flawless, her long curly hair made her look younger than her years, and she had the most glorious green eyes, with long thick lashes and dark mascara. She was thin but had phenomenal curves and could she walk! Man she could work it! “Where do they get these women?” Sam asked himself for the hundredth time.

Mona had planned for this day for the better part of a week. Sophie had moved her schedule around to give Miss Mona as many appointments as possible on Tuesday morning. Mona wanted to bring in some important people and introduce them to Sam. She wanted to impress Sam with the type of people he would meet if he were to become a full time intern to Mona. She wanted to whet Sam’s appetite for power.

The morning went smoothly, with Sam listening and learning. Before each meeting Mona gave Sam instructions on what to look and listen for, and afterwards she reviewed the high points and again talked about the personalities of their guests. It was an eye opening opportunity for Sam and he certainly enjoyed the morning.

At lunch Mona took Sam to the cafeteria and continued his introductions. The company had only one cafeteria and everyone ate together. But the top girls had their own “usual” table, and others left them alone unless invited. Miss Grace, Miss Maggie, and two aunts joined the group. Miss Grace made the introductions, “Samantha, I would like you to meet Miss Joyce. She is my third daughter and she handles many of our HR items; insurance, company policies, payroll and all those government things.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Joyce, “Samantha said as they shook hands.

“And this is my baby,” Miss Grace said with all humor intended. “Miss Serena is my fourth child and I must say our prettiest.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Samantha. I have heard so much about you and I must say, your beauty meets all expectations. You are a beautiful young lady Samantha. Lisa has done exceptionally well for herself.”

“Thank you,” Sam said. “I guess,” he thought. “Why must everyone insist that I am a pretty girl? Maybe because I’m wearing a dress,” he answered himself with a modicum of disgust.

“Miss Serena is our lawyer, so we must be careful what we say,” she said with a little chuckle.

“I’ll be careful,” Samantha replied.

After lunch Miss Maggie walked Sam down to the salon. “Do you know how to get to the doctor’s office from here?” she asked.

“Fourth floor?”

“Yes, that is correct. Here is your card for entry to the building. In some cases you will need to type in a password. In those cases, type in “sexygirl”. I thought that might be appropriate for you. Your doctor appointment is at 3:30. I’ll pick you up there. Have the receptionist call me when you are ready to leave. Good luck.”

“No,” Sam said to himself, “Sexygirl is not appropriate. I am really getting tired of all this female, girly stuff.” Then he stalked off to his salon appointment. Sam walked in and took a deep breath. Every time he came here, he enjoyed the weird concoction of smells and odors. The fragrance was so unique to salons that the moment he took his first sniff, there could be no doubt as to where he was. And even though he wasn’t a girl, he usually enjoyed his visits. The pampering was grand, but the salon girls were even better. They were so beautiful that he always enjoined clandestinely staring at them; although he wasn’t too clandestine. The “girls” knew him all too well.

“Welcome back, Samantha,” Florence said enthusiastically. “We’re all ready for you. Would you like something to drink?”

“No thank you,” Sam answered as he handed his purse to Florence. “So what is our schedule today?”

“First you will have your nail extensions removed. Greta will handle that for you. Then she will give you a paraffin hand wax. From there Susan will handle the rest. She will remove your lashes and then highlight your hair. I understand you have a 3:30 appointment with the doctor for a facial peal. We will have you done in plenty of time. Enjoy!”

While they waited for Greta to arrive, Sam tried to make small talk. “I saw you two Saturdays ago.”

“Really? Where?”

“At that charity gala. You were with the Senator, but you didn’t stay long.”

“Oh that! Boy that was strange. We walked in, one of his aids said something and we left immediately. The Senator never told me why we left so fast. But I found out later. Miss Mona was there.”

“I guess the two of them don’t get along together very well.” Florence laughed and nodded. With a chuckle between them, Sam’s naiveté returned and he almost stumbled into his next faux pas. “So I guess you are still seeing the Senator?” Sam meant that Florence was seeing him as his escort. But fortunately Florence saw things differently.

“Yes, I think he might be getting serious.”

“What? Serious about you … doing what?” Sam almost stepped into it once, but this time he fell in face first.

Florence figured out where Sam was coming from, and even though she knew Sam was new to this picture, she was still miffed. “Dating! He does like me you know! We go on dates together, and not just to social affairs.”

Oops! Sam realized that he had literally stepped in it. “Please excuse me. My stupidity just blurted out something without engaging my brain. I am very sorry for … not thinking.”

Greta showed up to save the day. She took Sam back into the salon and away from Florence. Greta was bubbly and full of energy, plus she had no idea what Sam had just said. She and Sam talked as she removed his acrylic nail extensions. Sam had to soak his nails in a smelly solvent and then Greta used a wooden pick to lift the nails and take them off. After drying the nails, she polished the nails and finished cleaning off the glue.

Then she prepared his hands for a waxing. First she polished his hands with a pumice stone to remove his calluses and make his hands smoother. Then she had him dip his hands in warm paraffin wax. From there she pulled plastic gloves over his hand, and finally slid those gloves into large, warm mitts.

During this time they talked. Sam wanted more information about the girls and their escort work. But he wasn’t sure how to bring it up and discuss it. He was sure that it was a very sensitive subject. So he was surprised when Greta took over the subject and gave him an ear full.

Sam started with his observations at the charity ball. Not only did he see Florence, but he had seen a couple other girls; Jillian and Olivia. “It seems kind of odd that all three girls were at the same event,” Sam said. He was trying to figure out how to move on to the interesting questions, but Greta took over.

“Not really, they were all escorting I’m sure.”

“Escorts? But how … what kind of work is that?” Sam tried to act naive, but it didn’t work.

“You know what kind of work that is, Samantha. The girls here aren’t as lucky as you. None of us have been able to land a Hawthorne. So we have to work for a living.” That should have been a huge dig at Sam, but it really wasn’t. Greta’s tone of voice made it clear that she was merely laying down the facts of life. Sam said nothing and listened.

“Don’t get me wrong, we don’t have it bad, Samantha. We all have a job that we like, we have free boarding, free medical and at least one free meal a day — lunch in the cafeteria. And we get paid decently; at least by middle class standards.

“But in these economic times, things aren’t all roses. We make extra money as we can. Several of us model for Miss Eunice, some model for Miss Maggie, and when we can we do escort work. Escort work pays very good, and it is interesting. We get to meet some interesting and powerful men. And if we’re lucky, it might blossom into something more substantial. It is one way to meet men, although most of them tend to be married. We do what we can,” she concluded.

“Can we back up a little, and please forgive me for my ignorance, but you get free boarding and medical?”

“Well we work for the Corporation.”

“What corporation?”

“Hawthorne Corp. We are all employees of Hawthorne Corp. Some of us work here in the salon, some work as sales girls in the other shops, and a fewer of the luckier, and smarter girls, work as receptionists and secretaries. But we all get a free apartment, and we have full access to the company doctor. We get year end bonuses just like everyone else. And the best part is we are allowed to moonlight however we want. Like I said, most of the girls model.”

Sam had to think about that for a minute. “The salon is part of Hawthorne Corp.?”

“Yep. Just about everything here in the building is owned by the Family.”

“And all of you get free housing too?”

“Not all. I would say that about half of the employees here at the salon are Miss Maggie recruits.”

“Miss Maggie recruits?”

And that is the point when Greta realized that she had said too much. All the girls had been warned about being too free with information around Samantha. But he seemed like one of them. Everyone knew Sam was a guy being transformed by the Family into a pre-op. Maggie never denied it, so they knew it to be true. So they felt like Samantha was one of them. But he wasn’t. He was as good as a Hawthorne already, and he needed to be treated with kid’s gloves. Greta remembered just in time.

Greta had to think fast. She couldn’t tell Sam the truth; that Maggie traveled around the world and recruited the prettiest boys in the world, brought them back to Washington D. C. and set them up financially and took care of them. She wasn’t allowed to tell Sam that these boys were allowed to follow their destination as far as they wanted. They could stay as beautiful pre-op transsexuals, or go all the way to having the full operation. They were allowed to model for the top she-male web sites in the world, and they could even travel to Hollywood and make movies.

The “girls” were nurtured and pampered and kept for the Family. They were employed throughout the Hawthorne business and used primarily for their beauty and sex. Every Hawthorne from Miss Grace on down occasionally partook of one of the pretty boys, and at the end of the month the girls received a nice bonus for their hour or two of pleasuring a Hawthorne woman. The girls were also made available to the power brokers of Washington D.C. The girls handled their after-hours business personally; no one from the Family could ever be accused of aiding or promoting an escort service. But the Family made sure the “right” men in power found the type of girl they were interested in. It was a favor that required reciprocation by these powerful men and the Family — and primarily Miss Mona — were the beneficiaries. And the girls were allowed to follow their assignations wherever they pleased, even if it meant a long term relationship away from the Family.

Maggie traveled all over the world, and had hundreds of contacts who spotted the loveliest young boys with the most potential. As these boys grew into their teens and began their hormone therapy, Maggie made the prettiest of them a deal they couldn’t refuse. They immigrated to the United States with the help of Miss Mona’s State Department contacts. They were given free two bedroom apartments in one of two apartment buildings that the Corporation owned for this special purpose. Both buildings were within walking distance of the Hawthorne Building. The girls could live alone or take a roommate. The girls were given day jobs that fit with their talents and provided them with the spending money they needed. Their only requirement was a bi-weekly blood test at the company doctor’s office to make sure they stayed clean of drugs and STS.

It was the sweetest deal in the world for a pretty boy from a poor third world country who wanted to transition from boy to girl. And it was a sweet deal for the Family. Some rich families collected art or antiques. The Hawthornes collected pretty boys; for themselves and their political allies. The family referred to the girls as Maggie’s Harem. She was responsible for finding them, nurturing them and keeping them under control. Of course Maggie had help. She had an older transsexual at each apartment to act as house mother, handle quarrels, watch for negative behavior patterns and schedule building maintenance and cleaning.

Half the girls working at the salon were Maggie’s and whether he realized it or not, Sam had already identified most of them. The prettiest girls were Maggie’s boys. They had been helped with cosmetic surgery to enhance their native beauty, and the result was usually astounding. A full regimen had been developed over the years, and most of the boys were put through the course to make them even more beautiful. Sam was next.

Greta was not allowed to share this information. She had to back track. “Miss Maggie believes in equal opportunity hiring. She hires girls from poor families and gives them a shot at making a nice living by working here.”

“Really?” Sam was surprised.

“Yep,” Greta said as she continued to cover her mistake. “Like I said, about half the girls here came from dirt poor families.” That part was actually true. “Miss Maggie and the company help us out. Miss Samantha, we aren’t ashamed of what we are or what we do. But please don’t say anything to Miss Maggie. Miss Maggie is such a wonderful person that she doesn’t want the attention or credit for what she does. So please? Please don’t say anything to Miss Maggie.”

“Of course,” Sam agreed.

A bullet dodged for Greta. “Watch your mouth next time girl!” she silently reprimanded herself.

After Greta, Sam was given to Susan. Once again, Sam walked away from critical information and didn’t put two and two together. Greta’s story sounded good, but Sam should have seen it for what it was; too good to be true. Sam was looking at his future in these “girls” and he couldn’t see it. At least he was going to be vastly richer than the salon “girls”. Sam was the luckiest of the lucky; he had a Hawthorne. At lease that much he recognized.

Greta finished her services and handed Sam over to Susan, who walked Sam back to her work area. Susan removed Sam’s lashes and highlighted his hair. And during their time together they talked. “Miss Samantha, are you getting a face peel today? First one?” Susan asked.

“Yep,” Sam answered in his normal loquacious (not!) manner.

“The girls here all swear by them. Wait until you’re done with the entire series. The difference will be amazing.”

“The whole series? There is more than just one?”

“Of course. Didn’t anyone tell you? Well the doctor will explain it all to you. But in a nutshell, you will get a series of 6 peels, one every two months or so. Most women mess up by waiting until they’re too old for their first peel, and then they usually get one too strong.

“But Dr. Ratchet seems to have it all worked out pretty good. You start young and get a low strength peel. Most women get a TCA at 35%, but the doctor starts us at 20%. Then each time she steps up the strength just a little. You go through a series of 6 sessions. Then you go back about every year or two for a refresher. The results are, like I said, amazing.”

“Have all the girls here gotten these facial peels? Is that why everyone here has such beautiful skin and complexions?”

“Yep. Like I said, we all swear by them. Of course the Retin A and hormones help.”

“What hormones?”

“The estrogen and progesterone.”

“Well I won’t be using those, I’m not a real girl. But what is Retin A?”

And that is the point when Susan realized that she had screwed up and talked too much. “Familiarity breeds contemp.” Having Sam as a customer so often, and knowing that he was being feminized like the rest of the girls, Susan lost track of who she was dealing with. Like Greta, she forgot to keep her mouth shut, and now she had to back track.

“Retin A is a prescription drug that the doctor uses in a special moisturizer for you. It tightens the skin and prevents little lines from starting. It keeps the skin much more youthful appearing. Just use it twice a day, and it helps keep old age away. It’s an important part of your skin regimen.”

Sam listened carefully, but he was thinking about those hormones. For once he was getting suspicious. “Do you take estrogen?” Sam asked.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Susan repeated to herself. “No, but some of the girls do. They think extra doses help their skin even more.”

“Does it? What does it supposedly do?”

“Shit, shit shit!” again. “Supposedly the estrogen softens the skin and keeps it clear of zits and blemishes.” Susan had to get out of this conversation! “But I doubt it really helps. Most girls are already producing enough estrogen and any extra that they take is just wasted.” Quick, think of something else to add! “It’s mostly the girls with big modeling ambitions that use it. You know models; they’ll do just about anything if they think it gives them a leg up in their career. You know?”

“Yes, like enemas.”

“Exactly!” Susan hoped that she had just walked out of a near disaster. She concentrated on Sam’s highlighting, hoping she could ignore more questions. Susan was using 3 tints to highlight Sam’s hair; two lighter tints and a light red. The light red would blend in and be almost invisible, but it would add the color robustness that would make Sam’s hair really stand out. Susan had Sam’s top hair pinned out of the way and she was slicing and weaving with her rat-tail comb, picking up strands of hair and laying them on tinfoil, brushing on the tint, then folding the tinfoil closed to protect those hairs. She was alternating colors and weaving patterns, leaving bulk hair every so often so that it wouldn’t get tinted at all. The overall affect with Sam’s long, curly hair was going to lookgorgeous.

After allowing the proper time for the tints to do their coloring work, Susan removed the foils and washed out Sam’s hair. The long wet hair looked a bit odd with the highlighting, but Susan could tell that she had done a nice job. She had about an hour left until Sam’s doctor appointment, so she dried his hair to show him how it would look.

To minimize the frizzies, Susan used no less than 6 towels to try and pick up the water from Sam’s hair with out using any heat. She then combed out the hair and again wrapped a towel over Sam’s head and tried to pick up additional moisture. Finally, Susan used her blow dryer on a cool temperature with a diffuser. She used her hand to fluff Sam’s hair and dry it, while at the same time allowing his curls to reform themselves. Too much heat has a way of flattening curls.

And voilá , Sam was finished.

“Miss Samantha, how do you like your new hair color?”

Sam was impressed; not only with the color and highlights, but with Susan’s ability to style it and bring out the curls so nicely. If only Sam could do as well at home. “That’s wonderful Susan. Thank you so very much; not only for the coloring, but the conversation. I learned a lot.”

“I hope you didn’t learn too much,” Susan muttered to herself.

Sam collected his purse and signed for his session. Florence said little as Sam left.

Sam clip-clopped across the lobby and over to the elevator where he slid in his security card and waited for the elevator to arrive. “Sexygirl! They continuously push it on me. They never stop,” Sam complained. He stepped into the elevator and pushed the proper button, then viewed his image in the mirror. “She did a nice job. My hair looks really cute,” he said as he watched his red lips mouthing the words. He quickly pulled his lipstick out of his purse and freshened his lip color before the elevator arrived at the doctor’s level.

Sam stepped into the doctor’s office and the receptionist called him over. “Samantha? The doctor is ready to see you.”

Sam smiled and thought, “The joys of being a Hawthorne; no waiting for doctors. They’re waiting for me.” This was another part of his frilly and lacy predicament that Sam really liked. “Hello doctor,” Sam said as he was led into her office.

“Samantha, it is nice to see you again. Please take a seat over here and we can get started.”

Sam sat in a dentist-like chair with lights mounted on the side and a reclining back. “Let’s talk about your procedure today. I don’t know what you have been told, but trust me, most of it is wrong. That is why we talk first and operate second.”

The doctor thought she was funny, but Sam found her loud and a little abrasive. “She must be a good doctor judging from the beautiful girls in the salon, but her bedside manners are really … lacking.” Sam thought she reminded him of one of those really bright geeks who knew everything but couldn’t get along with anyone. Yeah, that’s how he pictured her.

“You facial peel is a chemically induced exfoliation of your outer skin. By exfoliating your skin, we allow new skin to grow faster. And as it just so happens, the new skin tends to have younger and nicer qualities. It doesn’t tend to carry through pigment induced blemishes, it tends to be softer, and it tends to be clearer — more transparent. At least that is what some people think.

“Now, like most things in life, the slow and steady approach works better than the fast and harsh approach. Most women wait too late in their lives for their first peel. Then they use too harsh a peel and finally they don’t follow up with what they have accomplished. The end result is a quick, low quality peel.

“Over the years we have developed a much better approach. It takes longer, requires more attention and follow up, but the results have been quite remarkable.”

“I think I have seen your work, doctor. The girls working in the salon have some of the nicest complexions I have ever seen.”

“There you go Samantha, proof that our approach works. And thank you for the compliment. So how do we do it? First, other women use a 35% solution of trichloroacetic acid — we call it TCA. We will not use that strong a solution on you. Towards the end of your procedures we will re-evaluate, but I have used that concentration only two or three times. We will use only 20% solution today. In 8 weeks you will come back. I will assess your progress and decide what strength to use next. But I never jump by more than 5% from one application to the next.

“You will come back a total of 5 times. You get 6 applications, starting with 20% TCA and working up to no more than 35% TCA. At that point I think you will see a huge improvement in your skin tone and clarity. You already have good skin Samantha; no freckles, a slight blemish here and a mole here, which won’t be affected by the peels. Now the mole we can take off separately and if you’re interested we can talk about that next time.

“But after your 6 appointments, I will then want you back once a year. At that point we are merely maintaining your skin, but if necessary we can discuss other, more advanced items if you want. Ok so far?”

“Yep.”

“In between appointments, I will give you a special moisturizer to use. Use it twice a day, once in the morning after cleansing your face, and once in the evening after you remove your makeup when you go to bed.”

“What’s in the moisturizer?” Sam asked. He was expecting to hear about Retin A.

“A couple of items Samantha, but the most active is Retin A. You may have heard about it for severe acne cases. We have only 5% in your moisturizer. It reduces lines, and keeps the skin blemish free. And it really does work on acne, so you should see fewer of those pesky pimples that tend to pop up on everyone at the wrong time.”

“I know how that goes,” Sam agreed. “Is there anything else I need to use?”

“Just the usual; stay out of the sun as much as you can. The sun’s ultraviolet rays are extremely harmful to your skin. Never go outside without suntan lotion. Don’t spend excessive time in a chlorinated pool, or hot tub. If you do, use lots of moisturizer before and after. Keep your skin clean. Stay away from excessive fatty foods. Pretty much the usual. And the first several days, use only minimum makeup. None would be best.”

“What about estrogen?”

“Estrogen? What about it?”

“Is it in your moisturizer cream that I use?”

“No. Why do you ask? Are you interested in using it?”

“I’m just interested. What does estrogen do for you? Anything?”

“Estrogen is good for the skin. It softens the skin and gives it extra elasticity and better clarity. But adding it to your skin regimen only helps if you aren’t using estrogen to begin with. For example, it would help a boy’s skin, but would probably have very little impact on a woman’s skin; at least for a woman that has reached puberty. And below puberty, most girls and boys don’t need help with their skin. Why do you ask? Do you want to begin using estrogen?” The doctor gave Sam a knowing smile that creeped him out.

“No, not at all. I just wanted to know if it is in anything you are going to give me.”

“Not yet,” the doctor thought to herself. “Samantha, if you are interested in using female hormones I would be happy to talk with you about it.” The doctor was wondering if Samantha had made the big leap by herself. “It’s a big jump, but if you are ready, emotionally, mentally and physically, the benefits can be exciting.”

“Oh no. I just wanted to … to make sure is all.”

“Fine. But if you ever change your mind, please ask. I have no qualms about giving you the facts concerning hormone therapy.” The doctor stopped and cleared her mind. “Now then, back to your facial peel. First I will clean your skin, then I will apply the TCA. It will stay on only 15 minutes. I will wash it off, apply some moisturizer and you will be free to go.

“It will tingle when I put it on, but the tingling will be mild and disappear after only a short while. Later tonight, your face will start turning red and feel dry and stiff. You may gently apply the moisturizer I give you. When you wash your face be gentle and use a soft washcloth for the next several days. Stay out of the sun, that is very important. Wear a hat and use suntan lotion if you leave the house.

“In very rare cases the redness will get worse and cause pain and cracking. If that happens, call me. But mostly, you are going to see flaking and sloughing of old skin cells as your skin exfoliates and regenerates.

“And finally, let me say that I have done this specific routine on over fifty girls and have had no ill effects. The final results have been almost amazing, but don’t expect to see those wonderful results after the first session. Most girls don’t see a big difference until after 4 or 5 sessions. Then the advantage of our approach really shines through. So, do you have any questions?”

“No.”

“One last chance, do you want to talk about estrogen?”

An emphatic, “No.” Samantha was sorry he had brought up the topic. “Does she think I want to become a girl?” he asked himself. “Is everyone intent on turning me into a girl?” The answer to that question was an emphatic yes! And the most interesting point was Sam’s attitude. Although he was adamant about not using estrogen and feminizing his body, that is exactly what his facial peels were intended to accomplish. Yet Sam accepted the facial peels with no reservations at all; as if all boys liked modeling wedding dresses and did peels all the time. Yes, Sam was slowly becoming acclimatized to his new life.

“Then let’s get started.” The doctor said as she positioned Sam on the reclining chair.

The doctor was true to her word, everything went as she said, and barely more than a half hour later Sam was looking through her purse for Maggie’s card. “Hi Miss Maggie, I’m all done.”

“Wonderful Samantha. Did you make your next appointment?”

“Yes I did.”

“Good! Miss Mona wants to stay a few more minutes. I’ll come get you and we can wait in the cafeteria.”

The two had a nice talk over a cup of coffee. “Your hair is just gorgeous, Samantha,” Maggie gushed. “Who did your highlighting? I love it? Is that a bit of red in there?”

Maggie was very impressed with Sam and the progress he was making. “He is going to be a beautiful, beautiful boy,” she thought to herself. “His hair really is pretty. And he already is down to 26 inches on his corset, a wonderful size. Anything much lower is a Jessica Rabbit caricature. It helped that he was thin to begin with, but Lisa has a few more pounds off him already. His beard is gone, his skin will soon be soft and flawless. Yes, his feminization is going along just wonderfully. Samantha will make a beautiful bride and concubine. Lisa should be very proud of her accomplishments.”

And it wasn’t just Maggie who complimented Sam on his hair. Miss Mona gave him rave reviews, Chas complimented him as he entered the limo, and even Jennifer praised him when he went riding the next day. In fact all of the servants complimented Sam. All of the constant reminders and praises and compliments were meant to continuously reinforce his opinion of his feminine beauty and feminization process. His entire environment was built around convincing him that not only did he make a convincing girl, but that he liked being a girl. Sam was being given compliments, money and a taste of power to help convince him to become a Hawthorne girl and concubine.

And the process was working.

After sipping their coffee, Maggie asked if Sam would help her in the kitchen and Sam agreed. He would have to wear his maid uniform, but that was no big deal to Sam. But it was a big deal to Lisa and Mona and Maggie. Like the rest of Sam’s feminization, it started with the acclimatization process. He would be introduced to his maid uniform innocently enough. He would be asked to wear it more and more often and eventually it would become a requirement.

One of Sam’s future responsibilities to Lisa would be to handle the household staff and some of the chores. Along with housekeeping duties, he would need to act as a handmaiden to Lisa, helping her dress and style her hair and apply her makeup. Sometimes it would be for formal occasions and other times just to help out Lisa. But Maid Samantha would need to be wearing a uniform when she carried out her duties.

“Do you golf?” Maggie asked Sam.

“I’ve tried, but I’m not very good at it.”

“Maybe tomorrow afternoon we can go hit some balls. And tomorrow morning, would you like to go riding?”

“Sure.”

“I’d like to join you if I may. I haven’t been out riding in … in way too long.”

“Sure, that would be nice.”

“And in the afternoon we should practice driving a standard. We can practice hill stops and starts.”

“I’d like that,” Sam said.

“Excellent. We will have a wonderful day together.” Sam’s future father in law wanted to bond with his future son in law. Maggie would be Sam’s future relief valve when the inevitable bumps in the road arrived.

That evening Sam tried to text Bill, and when that failed he tried to call him. He still didn’t get through. “Strange,” he thought. He could try again tomorrow.

Sam was allowed to sleep in on Wednesday morning. He woke up with a red face and stiff, itchy skin. He ran through his normal routine, and while in the tub he used a washcloth to softly scrub away some of the dead skin. He applied his prescription moisturizer but didn’t put on any makeup. Only lipstick was allowed on the first day. If Sam was allowed only one cosmetic, lipstick was the best and most important in his mind’s eye.

Miss Maggie was in the library working when Sam came downstairs for breakfast. He was dressed for riding, with his riding skirt and a soft, cream-colored blouse. Maggie finished her work, then took Sam into the kitchen. “I’m going to show you how to cook your own eggs, Samantha. It’s not hard.”

After breakfast Maggie handed Sam a spray bottle of suntan lotion. “This will be easier to apply than one of those thick creams. Make sure to cover your entire face.” Sam retired to the powder room to apply the lotion and use the toilet. Upon returning, Maggie led her to another room at the back of the house. It was full of outdoor clothing. Everything from work boots and gloves and garden clothes up to nice and fashionable rain and winter coats were there. The selection stopped short of expensive furs, but the selection was extensive. And it included hats. Lots of hats.

“You need a wide brimmed hat, Samantha. A riding hat won’t do. Let’s find you something with a strap to keep it from falling off. These wide brims have a way of catching the wind.”

Maggie picked out several hats and had Sam model them. Sam was happy with all of them, but Maggie made it clear that they had to pick out a stylish hat that would go with his riding clothes. In the end, they settled for utility as opposed to style, but it was still a nice hat.

Maggie took Sam’s hand and they walked hand in hand out to the stable. Sam felt a bit awkward having his hand held, but he couldn’t say no to Miss Maggie. Maggie did it to see how soft his hand was. She wanted to know if his salon treatments were working.

Sam would have flipped if he had known that he was really holding hands with a guy. He had to get over his “male problem”.

Maggie brought up one other topic on the way to the stable. “Samantha, did you use your gargle and spray this morning?”

“Sure, I always do.”

“Might I suggest that you not use them for the rest of your stay here?”

“Sure, I guess so. Why do you ask?”

“Just to give you more practice without any artificial aids. Sometimes people begin to rely on their crutches too much, and they don’t progress. I think you are close to the point where you might be able to stop using the spray, but you need to practice for several days first, I think.”

“Ok.” It was one less thing for Sam to mess around with.

Jennifer was happy to see Sam, and she greeted him enthusiastically, complimenting him profusely on his corseted waist. “You’re looking curvy,” she told him. Jennifer did not prep any of the horses in advance. Toady she wanted to show Sam how to saddle his own horse. Sam saddled up Abigail, and Maggie saddled up Ginger. Maggie was comfortable on a horse, but she was no equestrian like Lisa.

Sam and Maggie trotted around the stable corral, and Jennifer gave them a few tips and tasks. Jennifer just had to give a lesson, even though neither girl was interested. When Jennifer set them free, Maggie headed out in a different route than usual. Lisa always took Sam on the bridle paths around the property. Maggie led them along the roads and gave Sam a tour of the property, the buildings and they even rode past the servant’s homes.

Maggie’s tour was filled with history and anecdotes from her time there. It was an interesting tour and Maggie was full of funny stories. All of the servants went out of their way to greet Sam and Maggie. Everyone had heard about Sam, but many had not yet met him, so they were all very interested in seeing if the stories were true. The secret consensus was Samantha was as pretty as they had heard.

Maggie took Sam by the garages where her antique cars were kept, and through the windows she pointed out some of her favorites. They rode through the gardens where by all rights Maggie should not have gone. But Maggie was given deferential treatment; she was the boss lady after all. The flowers were blooming, the vegetables were popping up and tiny apples were forming on the trees. It was a warm day, fragrant and pleasant. Both girls enjoyed their leisurely ride.

After their ride, they changed into their maid uniforms. Maggie wanted to show Sam how to pan fry catfish for lunch. She deep fried some string potatoes and added her secret tarragon and sea salt seasoning on the fries. The two of them sat in the shade by the pool and ate their fish and drank their tea. Maggie talked about cars and computers and big screen televisions. Maggie carried the conversation and Sam politely listened along. It was all very fascinating and Sam learned a lot.

After lunch, Maggie wanted to take Sam out to their country club and hit a few balls at the driving range. So they exchanged their maid uniforms for short skirts and blouses. It seemed like all Sam was doing was changing clothes … and spraying suntan lotion on his face. He could feel his skin and even if it wasn’t painful, it was uncomfortable.

Sam found a floral skirt and a violet golf shirt for their outing. Maggie again held hands with Sam as they walked down to the garages. Maggie picked out another Corvette, this time a deep blue 1972 vintage. It was not a convertible, which is what Maggie wanted. Because of Sam’s tender face, she didn’t want the wind blowing in his face, or whipping Sam’s hair around and striking his face. Maggie drove the car out of the garage, while Sam opened and closed the garage doors for her. Once Maggie had the car outside, she gave the driver’s seat to Sam. “Follow this road here, Samantha. It will take us to a small hill where you can practice stops and starts.”

Maggie was exceptionally patient and calm as Sam repeatedly popped the clutch and jerked the car to sudden stops. “Not a problem, Samantha. Just try it again. It’s the only way to learn.” They would work on the hill until Sam became frustrated, then Maggie would have him drive around the property. Then they came back to the hill and tried again.

Sam was getting better, but he was not yet ready for the open road. “I’ll drive to the country club,” Maggie said as they switched seats. “There are several hill stops on the way there.”

The country club was what Sam had expected ... rich. There was a gate in front of the property, and you could only drive a short ways before coming to the gatehouse. The gentleman pleasantly welcomed Maggie, signed her in and then lifted the gate. The clubhouse was a huge stone castle but Sam didn’t get the opportunity to see the inside.

“We can tour the club some other time,” she told Sam. “We’ll wait until your face isn’t so red.” Maggie drove over to the driving range and parked the car. “The driving range is covered, so you don’t need a hat,” Maggie told Sam. There was a small office and pro-club there, and they entered the building.

“Miss Hawthorne, welcome,” a friendly small man said. “Is this lovely young lady one of your daughters?” he asked.

“No Mikey, not yet,” and she smiled at Sam. “This charming young lady is Samantha. She is a family friend.” Mikey and Sam nodded towards one another. “We want to hit a few balls today. Can you have my clubs brought over? And I need a set for my guest.”

“Right away, Miss Hawthorne.”

Maggie led Sam out the back door onto a covered patio. They found a table and sat down to wait for their clubs. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Sure.”

Maggie pressed a small door bell like button on the table. Mikey appeared quickly and took their orders. A few minutes later he delivered two iced teas. The girls made small talk while they waited for their clubs. “Do you go golfing often?” Sam asked.

“Not really. Maybe half a dozen times a year. I’m not a golf fanatic. The only reason we belong to this club is so Miss Mona can do some entertaining in a private venue. They have a pool which I have never used … in fact I don’t think any of us have ever been in it. Their restaurant is pretentious and the food is mediocre.”

“Spoken like a true chef,” Sam said.

“You’re correct there. Most of the members are nouveaux rich and they’re either obnoxious, arrogant or sycophants. The favorite past time of people who believe they are rich, is to measure their wealth against others. Miss Michelle hides our family wealth extremely well. No one outside the family has ever come close in guessing our true worth. The Forbes 500 estimates are a joke. But the people here know we have the most money. So they either test you with their hubris, or they suck up to you shamefully. The club would be a lot better with different members.

“The golf course is first rate. The caddies are all smart mouthed brats. They have no manners at all. But you have to use a caddy — club rules. You have to spend a certain amount each month on golf and food and we never reach our quota.”

“What happens then?”

“You pay the difference. It’s not the money that bothers me, it’s the fact that I am paying for something that I don’t get or use. The corporation owns the membership, but it is in Miss Mona’s name. So the money isn’t a big deal, but I wasn’t brought up to throw money away.”

“Can I ask how you were brought up? Did you come from a rich family? Are you from the Washington area?”

Maggie gave Sam a pleasant smile, “Not today Samantha. I’m sorry. Some day I’ll give you the complete and sordid details. But it will have to wait.”

“Maggie sure does keep her secrets,” Sam thought. “No one wants to talk about her. I wonder why?”

The golf pro showed up with two sets of clubs. He delivered Maggie’s then asked, “Would either of you like lessons today?”

“Sure,” Maggie answered. “Samantha here is new to golf, and perhaps you could watch her and offer a few tips. But please don’t overwhelm her with all kinds of details. She is just starting, let her have some fun too.”

“Not a problem,” he answered. He turned to Sam and said, “My name is Larry. I’ll stand back here and watch if you don’t mind. Then maybe we can try a few things.”

Sam hit a bucket of balls with his driver, then another bucket using some irons. The pro helped too much and Maggie had to remind him twice to back off. But Sam did pick up some nice tips and he had an enjoyable time.

Maggie drove them back to the estate, and suggested that Sam rest or study for a couple of hours. At 4:00 Maggie was going to start dinner and she invited Sam to help her. “Don’t forget your uniform,” Maggie reminded him.

The girls cooked and sipped wine and talked the afternoon away. Maggie mentioned that Miss Eunice was a sailing fanatic and she had boats all over the world, including BVI and Tahiti. “I would love to go sailing,” Sam suggested with a bit of hope.

“I am sure that can be arranged sometime,” Maggie answered.

“Damn! I like these people,” Sam joked to himself.

They ran through their new routine once Miss Mona returned from work. After eating and chatting, all three girls returned to their studies or libraries and finished their homework. Sam talked on the phone to Lisa for the longest time before going to bed. The last thing he did before turning in was call Bill. Bill still was not returning his calls. “Is he pissed because I didn’t come back to school?” Sam asked himself. He sent a text apologizing for being MIA, but he never received an answer. After a few days Sam quit trying.

Thursday and Friday were more of the same. Maggie went out of her way to bond with Sam. Unlike Sam’s time with Lisa, Maggie and he spent their time on “non-girl” things. Or at least that is how Sam viewed their time together. Sam and Lisa went shopping and tried on clothes and went to movies and on Thursday nights went to the union with the sorority girls and maybe danced together. Maggie and Sam drove expensive antique cars, hit golf balls and talked computers and electronics. Maggie picked his brain on electronic trends such as music downloading (big), tweeting (weak - only old people did it), texting (everyone did it), 3-D movies (would it sell in TVs?) and even sexting (cool but be careful!).

About the only things in common between Maggie and Lisa were horseback riding and eating salads. Maggie pushed salads on Sam as adamantly as Lisa. Sam was getting neither accustomed nor satisfied with salads. Hamburgers, pizza and wings would have been a welcome relief. But alas, they didn’t seem to be on Maggie’s menu. The feminizers were still trying to take weight and bulk off Sam. The Hawthornes liked their boys thin and well endowed above and below. The upper endowment part would come later. The lower endowment was dependent on statistics and luck; otherwise known as genes.

Maggie also had a habit of holding Sam’s hand when they walked together. Sam found it odd at first, but eventually he accepted it. He decided that it was just one of those touchy-feely things that girls, and especially older generation girls, liked to do. Maggie led him around as if he were her daughter; which of course was Maggie’s intention. It was another ruse to control Sam and remind him that someone else would lead him and make decisions for him. Sam was being trained to be submissive to other girls’ commands.

Sam spent time texting Lisa during the day, and talking on the phone at night. At night is when he really missed her. Maggie was a nice companion during the day, and Miss Mona was being even nicer than normal, but he did miss his girlfriend. So he was disappointed when Lisa said that she would not be returning for the weekend. “I have finals coming up and I want to ace everything.”

“But you’re graduating, and you already have a job,” he whined. “You don’t have to ace everything.”

“You do if you are going to graduate school.”

“Are you really going to grad school?”

“Of course. It’s been part of my plans since I was a little girl.”

“Where are you going?”

Lisa could hear the pain in Sam’s voice. She decided that telling him over the phone would be too brutal for him. Harvard was too far away for Sam to think about. So she mislead him into thinking some place close by home.

But Sam still wasn’t happy. “But why do you need to go to grad school at all?”

“Because when I get older I plan on becoming President. An advanced degree will help me with the Northeast demographic. And you can be the First Lady,” she quipped.

Sam didn’t find any of that very funny. But on the other hand, Lisa was being honest with Sam. Mona had planned for many years to put her daughter in the White House. And Lisa wanted it too. Sam had just been told the truth about his future. If all went well, he would be the “default” First Lady. Lisa would be long divorced from her public marriage to her ex-husband Jeff Winter, and she would take her two or three children and move into the White House for hopefully eight profitable years. Of course her two or three children would belong to the fruits of Sam’s loins. Lisa’s marriage to Jeff Winter would be a decoy and nothing more.

And of course, she would need her right-hand girl with her. Her executive secretary, hand maiden, lover and concubine, the exquisitely beautiful and talented Samantha Springer would join her. And when she had enough energy left over after a day of dealing with world problems, Lisa would secretly invite Samantha to her bed, where Samantha would pleasure his mistress the way he had been taught.

Of course like many things placed before Sam, he missed their truth and importance. He was just worried about missing Lisa and their sexual liaisons. School was going to be pitiful and boring without his girlfriend there with him. But Sam wouldn’t be bored and he wouldn’t be back at the school he imagined. Sam would be in training. Poor naive Sam still had no inkling of where his life or Lisa was taking him.

Sam was a pawn in a brutal and yet loving passion play. He was effeminate to begin with (if he wasn’t he never would have been identified and chosen by Lisa) and now his destiny called for him to be feminized and subjugated. He would be turned into an obedient, beautiful and epicene submissive, but in return his life would be blessed and wonderful. He would be beautiful, and beauty opened so many doors and commanded so much authority, that his life would be more powerful than anything he could have accomplished on his own. And if his awesome beauty didn’t bring him what he wanted or desired, his family power and money would. All he had to do was spend the rest of his life respectively saying “Yes” to Lisa and her family members.

Sam had an upcoming weekend without his main - his only - squeeze. But Mona and Maggie would keep him occupied. Friday was drinking and party night in the political world of Washington D.C. Saturday night was dating — and sex - night. Mona had invited some Representatives to blow off some steam and watch a Washington Wizards playoff game in the Hawthorne loge. Normally they would have gone out with some of their male lobbyist friends, but no one with any ambition ever turned down Miss Mona Hawthorne.

Miss Mona knew what the boys needed, and along with the obvious was money. Mona funded so many money raising events that no one could turn down an invite from Miss Mona. She wanted to take the boys out for some dining and drinking and she wanted Samantha along. There were many reasons and much subterfuge to Miss Mona’s multi-level intentions. But first and foremost was her desire to impress Sam. She wanted Sam to meet the power brokers of the free world. Secondly, she wanted Sam to see how easily they were controlled by Mona. By the end of the night, his respect for our elected officials would slip a nickel or two. And his desire to be “one of the boys” would be diminished also.

But his pride and satisfaction in being a Hawthorne would be enhanced. It was preordained. It was easy. It was fun and desirable. Any silly filly could see it as plainly as the polish on her pretty manicured nails.

Sam went riding with Maggie in the morning, then driving and then they cooked up — salads. After lunch Sam picked up his clothes and makeup and loaded a Gull Wing Mercedes. Sam was almost ready to drive the awesome antique, but they were heading into D.C. so Maggie drove her favorite little beauty into the city. Maggie carried Sam’s clothes up to her office, while Sam headed off to his salon appointment.

The salon was becoming one of Sam’s favorite refuges in the whole-wide world. Sam opened the door and immediately took a deep breath. Ugly, weird, unusual, ammoniacal odors that should have irritated and chased away patrons, but conditioning — acclimatization — had convinced not only women and girls, but effeminate boys that this was the most seductive and wonderful place in the world. Sam had been seduced, and now he was being feminized. Shhhh — Sam loves his current situation — don’t tell anyone.

With apprehension he approached the front desk and Florence. “Miss Samantha, how wonderful to have you back. How was your facial peel? Are you recovering ok?” Florence had completely forgotten — or forgiven — their last encounter. Sam was greatly relieved.

Sam decided that he had to reciprocate and show Florence his appreciation — and understanding. “Hi Florence. My you look exceptionally beautiful today — just like always. I love your dress. Sexy girl!”

“Thank you Miss Samantha.” Apology accepted. Let’s be friends again. “I have a date tonight.”

“Good for you, “Sam answered. He knew who the “date” was. And he understood that Florence was happy. Even if he was a rude and arrogant son of a bitch, Florence liked him, and that was fine. It was acceptable. Different strokes for different folks and all that. “Do you have anything interesting scheduled for tonight?” That was code for, “Are we going to the same place tonight?”

“Dinner and a play. Romance tonight!” and she flashed a huge smile.

Sam couldn’t help but smile also. “Go for it! Enjoy!”

“I intend to,” she answered.

Greta came and collected Sam. “Miss Samantha, it is so nice to see you again. I’m going to give you a beautiful manicure, and you’re going to tell me everything you have been up to since your last visit. Is it a deal?”

“Of course,” Sam laughed. He was becoming a regular and everyone was friends. It was kind of fun. And so he decided to be honest and tell her everything he had been up to. And Greta was intrigued with Sam’s stories even though he needed to work on his delivery — Sam was not a natural story teller. What Sam didn’t realize was that Greta was as interested in Maggie’s activities as in Samantha’s life. Maggie was the most important person in the life of so many pretty boys, and Greta was one of those boys. Their gracious lives were courtesy of an angel named Maggie. They owed Maggie so much, and she was so kind to them that they naturally wanted to hear about her. Greta loved Sam’s narration and she repeated it several times after Sam had left.

After his manicure, he was given to the tall and shapely Julia. Sam enjoyed her Brazilian accent and husky voice. Julia was going to do Sam’s makeup. Since his skin was still a little raw because of his peel, Julia was using special cosmetics with a bit more oil than usual. Sam and Julia had a fun talk, although Sam missed many of her comments because of her heavy accent.

Julia used a light colored, but slightly oily foundation to build upon. “Miss Samantha what are you doing tonight?” she asked.

“Dinner at a restaurant and then we’re going to the Wizard’s game.”

“Are you going to the company loge?”

“Yeah.” Sam was surprised that she knew about it.

“I’m a big basketball fan. I have been to the company loge. Cool! You will enjoy. So that means mostly fluorescent lights. That helps. It makes a difference on these high oil cosmetics. Don’t worry I will make you beautiful Miss Samantha. You are my favorite client, I make you top shelf.”

Sam laughed and let Julia do her “top shelf” thing. When she had finished Sam’s makeup, she fluffed up Sam’s curls and sprayed them with a light but shiny oil. It gave Sam’s hair a beautiful (almost wet) sheen.

Sam thanked all of the girls, signed their invoices and left. Up the elevator to the executive floor and the receptionist she went. “Hi Miss Samantha, go right in,” she said. She buzzed Sam through the door. Sam didn’t have to use his security card and his secret password; sexygirl.

He walked down the wainscoted hall to an alcove for Executive Vice President Maggie Hawthorne. A beautiful girl met him and said, “Hello Miss Samantha.” It seemed like everyone knew who he was. It was kind of an ego boost. And the girl looked like one of Maggie’s girls. She had that perfect complexion that seemed to be an earmark of Maggie girls. She also buzzed Sam through the security door and into the office of Maggie’s executive secretary.

He received another, “Welcome Miss Samantha. Please wait a moment while I buzz Miss Maggie”

“Wonderful, send her in,” Maggie’s voice said. The secretary smiled and buzzed Samantha into the next office.

Maggie was standing and gave Sam a huge smile. “Hi Samantha. If you go through the bathroom there is a bedroom on the other side. You can dress there.”

“Thank you,” and Sam walked into the other room. He had peaked into this room the last time he had been here. But now he had a chance to look around. There was a large canopied bed that occupied much of the room. There was a dresser and armoire and on one side of the bed were two photography lights mounted on tripods. He noticed that there were hooks on the walls and pictures were missing. There was even a slight outline of where the paint had faded around the missing pictures. “That’s on purpose,” Sam said aloud. “Maggie has to be hiding something from me.”

Sam walked over to the windows and pushed aside the sheers so he would have an unobstructed view of Washington. It was a great view of the capital in the distance. “Money, money, money,” he murmured. “Everything they do is first class and so friggin’ cool. So what are they hiding? Are they CIA? Or SPECTRE? James Bond maybe? Or more likely Pussy Galore.” He grinned at his cleverness and turned back to the big canopy bed occupying the room. His dress and bags were lying on the bed.

Sam’s dress was a simple black sheath with a single shoulder strap featuring a cutout. The dress was formfitting, and accented his thin waist and ample bosom. The straight-line skirt ended at his knees and hid his lack of hips. It was simple but elegant, a bit too fancy for the sports arena, but perfect for the new intern to wear to the upscale restaurant beforehand. It established Sam as fashionable, attractive yet sensible, and understated yet cultured. He added suntan hose, clipped them into the garters on his corset and stepped into open-toed heels to finish his simple ensemble; chic but classy. Sam had decided to add his new earrings and engagement ring to add just a bit more pizzazz.

Maggie was impressed. “What a doll,” she thought. “I swear he is becoming more attractive every day. There is nothing like a little black dress to emphasize the figure with class and fashion. I adore that figure of his; half way between teen and woman; youthful and exuberant with that hidden promise of experience that comes with maturity. And look at that walk! What a girl! He makes an absolute femme fatale with that little extra something between the legs.

“Samantha Hawthorne is going to be an epicene beauty of classic curves, grace and eroticism. I know I would desire him.”

But she also saw something else. Maggie no longer believed Sam’s reticent indifference to his transformation into a beautiful girl. Sam’s strutting walk and hip sway obviously proved that he enjoyed his new appearance and persona enough to jiggle and wiggle his teenage concupiscence to try and titillate his admirers.

“Wonderful,” she said out loud. “Samantha you are the prettiest thing on two legs. I would say you were sexy and vivacious, if I said those kind of things that is,” Maggie laughed. “You look very elegant. I like you dressed for elegant. How do you like your appearance and dress?”

“It’s ok; for a girl’s dress that is.”

Maggie could see through his transparent act, but she played along. “It’s better than ok. And you make it better than great. Don’t sell yourself short Miss Samantha. You look beautiful in that dress.

“Before I send you off to Miss Mona, may I take your picture? You are truly a vision of beauty.” She picked up her large format camera from her desk.

“Sure.”

Maggie led Sam back into her bedroom and had him sit on the edge of the bed. She flipped on the large lights and then posed Sam for a couple of pictures. Sam crossed his legs, and placed his hands on the bed and reclined backwards just a bit. Whether Sam knew it or not, Maggie was soliciting a come-hither look from Sam. “He makes a pretty vixen,” Maggie thought as she took a couple of pictures.

“Well, I hope you have an interesting and educational evening. Miss Mona and Miss Michelle are waiting for you. Let me send you to them.”

Maggie showed Sam the door and pointed in the right direction. “Office number 3.”

Maggie quickly moved back into her office and called his wife and mistress. “Miss Mona, Samantha is on her way. You might want to take a look at her attitude. I think she is starting to strut her stuff just a little too much. She seems to be moving into those sexy teenage years.”

As Sam walked down the hall, he passed a couple of alcoves — reception areas for other offices. “Hello Miss Samantha,” rang out from every alcove. Sam was duly impressed with every pretty receptionist. Sam reached office number 3 and the receptionist Kristin was waiting for him. She too was a beautiful, thin girl, with a raspy voice. “Welcome Miss Samantha. Please go right in.”

Sam was starting to note a pattern to the girls he saw. They were all very beautiful, that much was obvious. But they had many similar characteristics. They all seemed to be a little taller than normal (not much but a bit) they were thin (thinner than most girls) and curvy and they were all big breasted. Almost every girl had long hair. Some girls wore it curly, and some wore it straight with bangs; but they all wore it past the shoulders. And on top of that they all seemed to have what Sam was now calling “salon-skin” It was that beautifully clear skin and complexion that he had first noticed on the salon girls.

“Everyone must be using the doctor’s facial peel regimen,” Sam thought. He was correct.

Miss Mona’s executive secretary Sophie also enthusiastically welcomed Sam. Like the first time they had met, Sam was impressed with Sophie’s mature beauty. For a forty-something she still had the presence and beauty of a movie star. Her appearance was an exception to Sam’s previous observation, but mostly because of Sophie’s age. Her look was more mature. Like the first time they had met, Sam noticed her eyes. They just pulled you in and said, “I am sexy as hell!” Sam loved her eyes!

Sophie buzzed Sam into Miss Mona’s office. Sam entered and found Miss Mona and Miss Michelle sitting in comfortable wing back chairs sipping tea. Both women remained seated as Sam walked over. Miss Mona held her hand up and Sam took it and squeezed it gently. Miss Michelle did the same, then motioned Sam into another chair. Sam smoothed his skirt and sat. He crossed his legs with his best feminine mannerisms. Mona and Michelle glanced at one another.

“My you look nice today, Samantha,” Miss Mona said.

“Thank you,” Sam replied.

“Are those your new earrings?”

“Yes.”

“And your “decoy” ring?”

“Yes,” Sam said as he flashed it for the two women.

“Very nice, Samantha. Let me outline our plans for the evening.” Miss Mona explained a few things and Miss Michelle added some additional thoughts. They wanted Sam to probe their guests on a couple of points. They would be going to the restaurant first, then the six of them would walk to the game. At the loge would be hostesses for the Congressional Representatives to chat with.

After a brief outline, Miss Michelle and Miss Mona spent at least twenty minutes giving Sam an in depth briefing on his assignment. They had a new congressman on their guest list and they needed to find some more information about him. Both women felt that Sam had the best chance of getting the information they wanted. So they prepped Sam as best they could.

After prepping Sam for his assignment, Mona changed the subject. “How you present yourself will be very important Samantha, and not just tonight, but in business in general. Even though we are socially the equal of these men, we will not act like them. Men like to pretend they control our relationship. Society has raised men to believe they are superior to women. They think they dominate and women submit. That is not true for Hawthorne women.” Miss Mona’s tone and posture made it very apparent to Sam that this was extremely important.

“Hawthorne women do not submit to any man. But neither do we act like them. They can be loud, crass, arrogant and domineering. Samantha, it is very important that you understand that we do not act like that. Hawthorne women are calm, cultured, reserved and demure. That doesn’t mean we let men push us around. But it does mean that we can act and look superior.

“Samantha, how are you sitting?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where are your legs?”

“Crossed?”

“And where is the hem of your dress?”

Sam looked and saw his dress hem a few inches above his knee. He was starting to sense where Mona was going. Sam said nothing. He looked at Michelle’s legs and then Mona’s.

“How are Miss Michelle and I sitting?”

“Miss Michelle has her legs crossed and you have yours side by side.”

“And where are our hemlines?”

“Below your knees.”

“As yours should be. We are not out on a date and trying to seduce our boy friends, or in your case, girl friend. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” and the chastised Sam uncrossed his legs and pulled his hem down a little.

“Samantha, when you walked in here you were strutting like a model on a runway … or something else I will not dignify. I appreciate the fact that you are becoming more comfortable in your female role, and I want to compliment you on your beauty and confidence. You’re doing beautifully. But you will have to tone it down. We are not trying to interest any of these men tonight. Hawthorne women do not have to stoop to seduction to get what we want.

“Do we understand one another?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Now that we have an understanding I want to add one more thing.”

Sam winced. “Yes ma’am?”

“Samantha, I am totally amazed, awed and proud of you. I want to make that perfectly clear. All of us have gone through a period in our life when we first realized that we were pretty damn cute … and sexy. It is human nature that we enjoy the wonders and joys of our femininity, and that we wish to … display these gifts. Don’t hold back, Samantha. Enjoy your life. I merely request that you realize that there is a time and place for everything. Tonight: demure. In two weeks: Paris. You and Lisa will know what to do there.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam was obviously relieved.

“Paris?” Miss Michelle asked.

“Lisa’s graduation gift.”

Miss Michelle gave Sam a big grin. “Samantha dear, you are going to LOVE Paris.” She looked to Mona and said in a most wistful voice, “Paris, young and in love. I only wish …”

“Don’t we all,” Mona said softly. Both women smiled at Sam. He felt much better.

“One final reminder Samantha, did you bring your gargle and spray?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I know Miss Maggie thinks you should wean yourself off the gargle, and I agree with the concept, but not tonight. Tomorrow, you can drop it again.”

“I agree,” Sam said and excused himself to use the bathroom. He closed the door behind him then quickly tip-toed across the bathroom to the opposite door. He peaked in the door and saw a room much like Maggie’s. There was a bed and armoires, but also pictures on the wall. Sam took a quick look. The pictures were family members; Lisa, a girl that had to be Harriet, and the shock of all shocks. Straight across the room was a large picture of two women, both in a wedding dress, embracing each other and kissing. One of the women was Miss Mona and the other was … “Oh my God!”

That evening, after dressing for bed, Sam called his lover. Sam wanted to talk with Lisa about his interesting and exciting day. But Sam knew there was one item that he could not discuss. He understood so much (he thought) and as much as he wanted to discuss his new found information, he knew that he could not bring it up. He now understood the secret behind Maggie.

At least he thought he did.

“… and I was given my first assignment,” Sam announced proudly.

“What?” Lisa asked as she sat on her bed and filed her nails.

“After we left the restaurant, we broke into three couples. I walked with Congressman Spencer over to the arena.”

“Did you hold hands?” Lisa asked with a teasing overture to her voice.

“No! But I did wrap my arm through his. Your mother and aunt did with their escorts, so I felt that I had to. But then I was supposed to get some personal information from him. He is kind of new to your mother and she wanted to know more about him. So we talked about movies. I was supposed to find out his favorite types of movies, and his favorite actors and actresses. From his answers, Miss Mona can kind of deduce some things about his personal preferences.”

Lisa smiled. “Really? Like what did you find out?”

“Yeah, it was kind of interesting. Your mom gave me lots of tips on how to probe him, plus she gave me the names of some specific movies to ask about. Some of them were before my time, so I really didn’t know much about them.

“His favorite movie was something called “Nine and a Half Weeks.” I’ve never heard of it have you?”

Lisa giggled and played dumb, “No what is it about?”

“I don’t know ‘cause we didn’t get into details. But he likes thrillers. He especially likes Hitchcock. And his favorite actress — I think she was in one of the early Batmans, I’m not sure, but it was Kim Basinger.”

“She’s a babe, Samantha. Trust me,” and she giggled some more. Kim Basinger was the star of 9 ½ Weeks.

“And Sharon Stone also,” Sam added.

“Makes sense,” Lisa thought to herself, and smiled. “What about actors?”

“He named lots of guys. He didn’t seem to have any single favorite.”

“Did you ask him about other movie types?” Lisa knew the routine. “Did he like your favorite?”

“No. He never saw Rocky Horror.”

“Of course not,” Lisa thought. “He’s not into guys wearing women’s clothes, prancing and dancing and singing. Plus the husband was way too wimpy.”

“So did you tell all of this to mom? What did she deduce?” Lisa sniggered.

“Yeah, I told Miss Mona. She smiled but didn’t say much. So I’m not sure what she deduced.”

Sam continued for another half hour before they hung up. Lisa clicked off and fell over on her bed laughing uproariously. “What a wonderfully silly filly, Samantha. Don’t you ever put two and two together? The Congressman is into bondage, with a little S&M thrown in for good measure! He’s into strong sexual people who can handle the kinky side of life. Just the opposite of you my little sissy.

“And of course I know about this personality probing! I ran it on you our first three dates. That’s why you’re here! You’re a sissy that is begging to be dominated by a strong woman that will feminize you. You loved the Graduate. And why? Because a strong mature woman dominated a naíve boy and taught him how to sexually satisfy her. That’s where you learned how to put on your stockings. And what do you think I learned from your fixation with Rocky Horror Picture Show? My little vixen, you like girl’s lingerie.

“And you preferred the prissy Julia Roberts and Pretty Girl over the strong Sigourney Weaver in Alien. In fact you hate thrillers. You like romance and chick flicks. The only movies we go to are where the girl gets her guy! It’s clear that you want to be the girl!

“Samantha, I really wonder about you sometimes.” Samantha laughed like crazy.

Sam retired to Harriet’s bed and turned off the lights. He laid in bed thinking about his day. “Wow! How could I have missed all those signals that Maggie sent? “Mona is like a wife to me and Lisa is like a daughter.” Well of course; you are Miss Mona’s “wife” and you did raise Lisa. You are the “wife” in your relationship; you dress like a maid, do the cooking, run the house and raise the children. It is so perfectly obvious and logical. How could I have missed it all this time?”

Sam was learning, but he still didn’t have things figured out as thoroughly as he thought. Although Sam’s snooping wasn’t anticipated by Lisa or Mona, in the end it wasn’t a problem. Sam was right about one thing, Mona was the “husband” and Maggie was the “wife”. And he accepted Maggie’s domination as normal for this type of relationship. From there, it wouldn’t be as big a jump for him to eventually discover that Lisa would be the dominant personality in their relationship, and he would be the submissive “wife”. Sam would become Samantha, the submissive and feminized wife and concubine belonging to Lisa. Because of a little snooping, Sam’s indoctrination actually continued on a slightly accelerated pace. Lucky Sam!

The Samantha Project - Chapter 36 - 40

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Sam is sent to live with Miss Maggie and Miss Mona where he attempts to rebel and maintain his masculinity, only to fall further into his feminine role.

Femdom, crossdressing, hair and hair salon, corseting, heels, appliances attached, sex, illustrations.

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

CHAPTER 36

Sam slept in on Saturday morning. After rising and running through his normal routine he took out his lap top and set it on Harriet’s desk. He logged into his school account and spent the next two hours working on homework. The homework wasn’t difficult. Sam was extremely intelligent and his forced solitude the last few weeks had provided him with plenty of time to stay ahead on his work.

After finishing his homework he decided one last time to reach Bill. It was a futile effort and Sam discontinued his attempts at contacting him. He sent off an explicitly sexy e-mail to Lisa and then logged off. Sam put on his riding clothes and went down to the kitchen to make some eggs for himself.

Maggie found him in the kitchen. “Going riding?”

“Yeah, I thought it might be something to do this morning.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, please come along.”

“Let me change out of my maid uniform and I’ll be right back.” Sam made his eggs and toast and sat down to enjoy his labors. He finished eating and returned the dirty dishes to the kitchen where he left them for the downstairs maid.

After dressing, Maggie found Sam and took him down to the stable. Maggie held Sam’s hand on their walk. Sam didn’t mind as much as he used to, now that he was holding the hand of Lisa’s “mother”. “Samantha, I asked Miss Mona if she would like to join us. She said she would like to go riding, but she had too much work this morning. She suggested the three of us drive down to the Big Farm tomorrow and go riding together. Would that be acceptable with you?”

As much as Sam still cringed when he had to confront Miss Mona, riding would be fine with him. “Good,” Maggie said. “I’ll have Jennifer trailer the horses over tonight or tomorrow morning.”

After riding, Maggie gave Sam another driving lesson. Sam seemed to have the feel of the standard, so they drove around the neighborhood for an hour. Maggie had picked out a convertible, so Sam had his wide-brimmed hat tied tightly under his chin. Maggie seemed to enjoy sitting in the passenger seat and letting the wind blow through her hair. Maggie always acted happy to be around Sam. Sam liked that too.

Upon returning to the estate, Maggie and Sam changed into their maid uniforms and made a light lunch for themselves and Miss Mona. Miss Mona was pleasant, but brusque. She essentially ate and ran. “How about hitting some balls?” Maggie asked.

“Sure, can I drive?”

“Why not? I’ll meet you out front.”

Sam changed into a short skirt and a pink blouse for the afternoon. He walked out front and found Maggie caressing her 1972 Mercedes Benz 380 SL. “Do you want me to leave you two alone?” Sam laughed.

“What do you think Samantha? Do you like her?”

“She’s beautiful.”

Maggie opened the driver’s door and helped Sam behind the wheel. “Please be kind to her, Samantha,” she told him.

They went to the driving range and hit a couple buckets of balls. Maggie showed Sam the long way back to the estate, and they drove around the countryside, chatting about cooking and cars and even boating. Once again Sam hinted that he would like to go sailing some time.

“I’m working on that Samantha. Miss Eunice has a boat on the Chesapeake. It isn’t a sailing boat, it’s a motor yacht. Lisa will be back next weekend, so I asked Miss Eunice if she would take you two out.”

“And …?”

“It’s all set.”

“Sweet.”

“I think we need to head home,” Maggie said. “Would you mind helping me with dinner?”

“Sure.”

“We’re going to the ballet tonight, so we’ll need to eat early. I’ll be starting as soon as we get back.”

Because of their need to leave early, dinner preparation was quick. Dinner was at 5:00 so the girls could get ready for their evening. “We have to leave no later than 6:15,” Miss Mona told Sam. “Do you have something picked out for the ballet?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good, if you need help with anything call me,” Maggie offered.

“Thank you I will,” and he headed to his room. Sam had already picked out another little black dress of Harriet’s. It was sleeveless, fitted at the waist and the top of the bodice had a halter strap that looped around the neck and clasped in back. The dress was cut low under the arms to show more skin on the shoulder area, without dropping the neckline. Where the halter met the top of the dress, a cute and classy bow was placed. The hemline ended at the knees.

Sam thought it looked classy and elegant, and Sam was into classy and elegant. Because of the low cut under the arms, Sam couldn’t wear a brassiere, but that was fine with him. The dress had built in cups for his breast forms, and the halter top held everything snugly. He attached garters to his corset and wore nude stockings for the evening. For shoes he wore open toed 4 inch heels. Sam loved high high-heels. He had no trouble walking in them, they gave him more height which for a short boy was always nice, and they were sexy.

Now don’t misread Sam’s intentions. Sam was no girl — as he continuously told himself. But as long as he was playing the cards that had been dealt to him, he intended to perform to his highest abilities and standards, and that meant looking as convincing as possible. And for Sam, convincing was a synonym for attractive and sexy. He was playing a Hawthorne girl after all.

It was a role Sam loved playing. He didn’t want to be hit on by the boys — heavens no! But he wanted them to stare and drool. He wanted to tease them and leave their lust unrequited. It wasn’t a bright move, but Sam was new to his sexy female role. He had no idea how sexy he was, and how strong of an effect he had on the boys. He would eventually learn how to tone things down as Miss Mona had instructed him the night before. But for now, to Sam that meant keeping his hemline below the knees and reigning in his strut. It honestly never occurred to him that an elegant dress showing lots of skin, curly hair and bright red lipstick had to be controlled as well. And adding on his expensive jewelry gave him more sex appeal than he realized.

If he had been confronted by his conscience, Sam would never have been able to explain why he did what he did, and why he liked what he liked. Sam continuously reminded himself that he was a boy — a man — but then at every turn he did whatever he could to look feminine and pretty. More than pretty, he tried to look beautiful and elegant. Ok, he could rationalize his actions by the necessity of looking “real”. But Sam didn’t just want to look “real”. He wanted to look “really good”.

What he could not rationalize, and what he never tried to rationalize, was the pleasure he obtained by dressing and primping and posing and playing the pretty girl. Sam loved his breast forms and his underwire brassier. Sam already knew more about brassieres than 99% of the male population. And he loved his stockings; especially stockings that required garters. Damn! They were sexy! And heels? And makeup? Oh how Sam loved his eye makeup and mascara and liner. But nothing compared with his lip gloss. Not only did it look feminine and sexy beyond belief, but it tasted wonderful. Lipstick was second only to orgasms in Sam’s mind.

And girl’s clothing … oh my! And let’s stop pretending to be modest. Sam made the right clothes look SEXY. He could make them move and sway and perform! No boys allowed, but Sam really was sexy. And in spite of all that sexy innuendo and enjoyment, Sam’s mind just couldn’t make the connection between his enjoyment and his affect on those horny, hormone high-jacked boys. He truly was naive in a sexual and societal context.

But without a doubt, he was content in his female role. But don’t tell anyone. NO ONE!

Miss Mona and Miss Maggie understood the situation and merely smiled when they saw how he was dressed. They weren’t meeting clients, so Miss Mona didn’t mind as much as she should have. Instead, she decided to reinforce his confidence.

“You look beautiful, Samantha,” Mona told him. “Don’t go crazy tonight, but you can show a little more of your stuff if you want. But be careful, without a brassiere your breasts are going to bounce and move around a little more than normal. Don’t go crazy with your jiggle,” Mona laughed.

“I second Miss Mona’s thoughts,” Maggie added. “You are becoming a real beauty, and that dress is stunning. Tonight you’ve got us to drive the boys away, but please be careful. I don’t think you realize how sexy you are. I mean that, Samantha. You are beautiful and sexy. That’s quite an accomplishment and I congratulate you.

“I know you miss Miss Lisa, but it’s probably a good thing she isn’t with us tonight,” Maggie finished with a grin.

“Why is that?”

“Because I would have to give you another lecture,” Mona said in a mock serious voice. They all laughed. Sam still hadn’t caught on that Samantha was treated better by Miss Mona than Sam was. It was sinking in on a subconscious level, but it would be a while before “Sam” caught on to his disadvantage.

“Come on, you never know how the traffic will be, and I’d like to get a picture of us before we go,” Maggie said. They moved into the reception foyer where Maggie had her camera set up on a tripod. She flipped on some lights, took pictures of the three of them together, and then just Sam. “I think Lisa would like to see how pretty you look tonight, Samantha.”

When they stepped outside Sam saw their ride and stopped in his tracks. “Holy crap!”

Maggie laughed and Mona warned him, “Watch your mouth young lady.”

“I’m sorry, but it is fantastic,” he said as he walked around the car. Maggie had picked out one of her favorite cars for the evening. Chas was holding open the rear door of a cherry red 1963 BMW V8 2600L sedan. It was in mint condition and looked stunning. “We’re going to ride in that?”

“Sure thing,” Maggie said. “You and Miss Mona will ride in the back. I’ll ride up front.”

“Sweet!”

The ballet was ok, although not nearly as good as the New York shows that he had seen. But it was another step in Sam’s feminine development. Mona certainly wasn’t going to take Sam to a rodeo. The ballet was culture and the boys wore tights; just the things she wanted to reinforce with her future son-in-law. Plus, she was able to show Sam some more family money. They owned a box close to the front, and although it could easily have seated ten, only the three of them were there. And the situation wasn’t lost on Sam. “Money, money, money,” he recited to himself over and over.

When they returned home, Miss Mona suggested that Sam remove his breast forms for a couple of days. “You have to let your skin breath occasionally,” she smiled. Sam retired to his room and ran through his evening routine. He slipped a black negligee over his head then turned down his bed. He climbed in and called his squeeze at school.

Mona sat behind the big walnut desk in her study. She was running through a few work items, but she had the monitor on and she was watching Sam in his room. She was listening to his side of the conversation and smiling. The two kids were in love, and she enjoyed seeing young love. After finishing his call, Mona was expecting him to go to sleep. Instead he got up and pulled his negligee over his head. He had a large erection. “Is he going to masturbate?” Mona asked aloud and in a disgusted voice.

She watched as Sam went to the dresser, opened his lingerie drawer and picked up some panties. “He is!” she said. Mona was becoming pissed and angry. She was thinking about ways she could innocently intrude and stop him. Sam set the panties aside and looked around a little longer until he found what he was looking for. He held up a sleeping bra, and tossed everything back in. “What is he doing?” Sam put on the brassiere and then walked over to the counter top where he kept his breast forms. He slid his small “B” forms into the bra, and pushed them around to get them situated. Then he slid his negligee over his head, situated it and stood in front of the mirror.

He did a little posing in front of the mirror before he verbalized, “Sweet.” After a couple additional moments of posing he walked over to bed, crawled in and turned off the nightlight on his bedside table.

“Whoa,” Mona muttered. “He is there, he is ours! He is now committed to becoming a transformed, effeminate, girly boy. Whee, we did it. He won’t hesitate for a second when we offer him hormones. He was born to have tits. We knew it all along, and now he knows it too. He’ll jump at the offer. Lisa has her concubine. All we have to do now is send him to finishing school.”

Mona picked up her phone and called Lisa.

On Sunday the three girls drove down to the Big Farm for a day of horseback riding. Chas drove them down in the limousine, which disappointed Sam. He wanted to drive down in one of Maggie’s hot sports cars, but since there were 3 of them, that wouldn’t work. They stopped in for a brief visit with Miss Grace and Miss Eunice, then changed clothes and walked to the stables. Miss Mona held Sam’s hand on their walk.

Holding hands was to be standard fare for Sam. The family wanted him to become accustomed to a woman taking his hand and leading him where ever they went. He needed to understand that someone else would lead him, make decisions for him and generally take care of him. And that someone would always be a Hawthorne woman.

Jennifer saddled their horses and off they went on the miles of bridle paths around the farm. The farm’s bridle paths connected through a locked gate with bridle paths on adjoining state property, so they had plenty of places to ride. An hour into the ride they came upon a small picnic area next to a waterfall. Sitting in the parking lot was a large black limousine with the trunk open. George was carrying picnic baskets to a table while Miss Grace and Miss Eunice enjoyed the falls.

The five of them had a leisurely lunch of fried chicken and potato salad, washed down with sun tea. After lunch Miss Mona led them on a two hour ride through the park and back to the farm. Jennifer took care of their horses, while the girls retired to the big house for tea and cookies. An hour later Chas was driving them back to their estate, where Maggie cooked brats on a grill and they ate corn on the cob.

After dinner, Mona gave Sam his schedule for Monday. They had the entire week scheduled for Sam, but there was no need to tell him that. In fact, there was no need to tell him anything in advance. It was better to inform Sam of one item at a time, one day at a time, and nothing too far in advance, so that he became comfortable with the concept of someone else arranging his life at what seemed to be their own discretion. Sam was generally not allowed to make any decisions of his own.

Monday morning Sam rode into work with Miss Mona. He had an early salon appointment to have his hands pampered and a few finishing touches on his chest with the laser. He would have salon appointments every other day for the rest of the week. Helping Sam become more accustomed to the salon was part of their intentions. But also, he did need maintenance work on his hands to remove all of his calluses and to keep his hands soft and smooth. He also received a pedicure and manicure one day, and a body massage another.

Thursday evening after dinner, Sam was given his Friday schedule. It was going to be a special day for Sam. Lisa was coming home that afternoon, and they wanted to make Sam feel especially pretty for her return. Sam was going to receive a wash and set, hand wax and get some fresh polish applied to his nails. In addition he was going to make some money.

“Miss Eunice would like to do a photo shoot of you at the salon tomorrow. This is for her stock pictures of girls in beauty salons.”

“What are stock pictures?”

“They’re pictures taken without a specific purpose in mind. They are taken and held for those times when a quick generic picture is needed for an advertisement. Miss Eunice wants to have some fresh salon pictures and we all thought that you would make a great model. Plus, you will get paid.”

“Ok, I can do that,” he said.

“Sweet! Money!” he thought privately.

“We will get you all prettied up for Lisa’s return! Won’t that be nice?” Miss Mona said with enthusiasm. Sam had been kept at home, away from his future mistress and waiting for her return. This was what was expected of a devoted concubine and house wife. Roles were being reversed here, and Sam needed to be introduced to his new life. Sam was now an effeminate male being feminized and transformed into a submissive concubine to serve a wife that would control and care for the womanly Samantha for the rest of her life. It was that simple, really.

“Any questions?” Mona asked.

“Nope.”

“One last thing Samantha, before you enjoy your salon shoot, you have a doctor’s appointment first thing tomorrow.”

Sam rode into work with Miss Mona and Miss Maggie. He was wearing a dark blue, long sleeve, knit top with a V-neck and detailed with sequins, beads and embroidery. His skirt was also dark blue, hung to his ankles and was covered with paillettes and detailed embroidery.

Sam’s first stop was at the doctor’s office on the fourth floor. The receptionist had Sam write his name on their log, then a nurse immediately took him to an examination room. On the way he had his weight and height checked. When they reached the room the nurse handed him a paper gown and told him to take his clothes off and change. Sam didn’t like the look of this; it was the same room where he had his examination three weeks earlier. And it had the same gynecological exam table. Nope, he didn’t like the looks of it at all.

Sam changed clothes and sat on the edge of the table flipping through a teen fashion magazine while waiting for the doctor. He didn’t have to wait long, “Hello, Samantha,” the doctor chirped as she came in. “How are you today?”

“Ok.”

The doctor sat down in a little chair and opened Sam’s file. She read a few items and said, “Ok, you’re back because you’re iron was a little low. Have you been taking the vitamins that I recommended?”

“I’ve been taking vitamins, but I’m not sure if they are the ones that you recommended.”

“Which ones are you taking?” Sam told her. “Yes, those will do nicely. So let’s see if there is any improvement. Please put your feet in the stirrups and lie back.”

Nope, Sam didn’t like the looks of this at all. “For low blood iron?”

“This is the most important place that it manifests itself Samantha. And being sexually active I suspect that this is an important part of your life, is it not?”

“Sure, but …”

“Just relax then, this won’t take long.” She slipped on a latex glove and applied KY jelly to the fingers. “Have you noticed any change in your penis?”

Sam was turning red. “No.”

“Any differences in your orgasms? Has the strength of your ejaculation or the length of your erections changed at all?”

“No.”

“Ok, I’m going to collect a sample of your semen. Please hold this bottle over your penis, and collect the semen if you would please.” The doctor handed Sam a specimen bottle and Sam grew even redder. The doctor instructed Sam to, “Bear down please,” and she slipped her fingers inside his anus. “Prostate still feels good. Hold the bottle properly, I’m going to begin milking you now.”

In only a matter of seconds Sam started flowing into the bottle. Once again he was amazed at how much the doctor milked from him.

“All in all, things look good Samantha.” She stripped off her glove and threw it in the trash, then handed Sam some Kleenex to clean himself. She took the bottle from Sam and screwed the cap on. “I’ll let you know how things are doing in a day or so. See you next time Samantha,” and she fled out the door.

“Fuckin’ eh!” Sam muttered. “Just friggin’ weird.”

Sam’s attitude improved immensely when he opened the door to the salon and took a deep breath. “I love this smell,” he thought to himself.

“Hi Samantha,” Florence called out. “They’re all waiting for you.”

“Samantha, come, come,” Mary called out. Sam had forgotten what a demanding personality she had, but he hadn’t forgotten her green eyes and pretty face. He smiled for her when she laid those beautiful eyes on his. Tripods, and lights and cameras were set up around the wash sink and Susan’s styling chair. And surprisingly, Maggie was in attendance and holding her camera.

“Hi Miss Maggie, I wasn’t expecting you,” Sam said innocently.

“I wanted to try my hand at taking a few pictures behind a professional. I hope to learn a few tricks by copying Mary.”

“Makes sense,” Sam said. “So what do I do?”

“You stand over here for some before pictures,” Mary said. The before pictures took almost fifteen minutes as Mary had several poses in mind. Then Sam was directed over to the shampoo sink, where he was seated and had a cape tossed over him. Susan set the water temperature then sprayed Sam’s hair. Snap, snap, click, click. Mary was working different angles and Maggie was trying to stay out of the way, but at the same time follow behind Mary. They bumped more than once during the afternoon, but unlike the last session Sam attended, Mary didn’t attempt to push Maggie out of the way.

Susan washed and rinsed Sam’s hair three times before Mary was satisfied. Then over to Susan’s styling station they went. Snap, snap, click, click. Susan combed out Sam’s hair and inspected the extensions and their attachments. “Everything still looks very good Samantha. You’re doing an excellent job of caring for your hair.”

“Thank you, that’s good to hear.”

Before Sam had arrived, Maggie had a meeting with the salon girls and gave them their instructions concerning Sam. Sam was going to see his heartthrob tonight for the first time in two weeks. The girls were supposed to talk to him as if he was a wife, and her husband was returning after a two week absence. Sam was getting made up extra special to surprise and seduce his “husband”.

“I understand Lisa is coming home tonight,” Susan said to make small talk. Snap, snap, click, click went the cameras, and roll, roll, roll went Susan as she rolled Sam’s hair on curlers. “Are you excited to have her coming home?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered calmly.

“I know I would be excited to see my boyfriend after two weeks. Do you have anything special to wear for her?”

“No.” Sam hadn’t given it much thought.

“You don’t? Really? I know I would if I were in your heels.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well you should. You don’t want her to take you for granted. Or worse yet, you don’t want her to think you take her for granted.”

“True,” Sam mused. He should wear something nice for her tonight.

“Do you have anything special planned?”

“No.”

“You don’t? Samantha, really you should be thinking about these things. I would have had my plans made a week ago!”

“Like what?” Sam asked in earnest.

“Oh Samantha there are all kinds of things you could do. A romantic candle light dinner would be easy.”

“Hmmm. It might. But I don’t know anyplace to go, or how to get there.” Snap, snap, roll, roll, click, click, roll, roll.

“I might be able to help there,” Maggie offered as she snapped a shot using her new ring strobe.

“Really, would you please?”

Mary broke in. “Ok the set is all done. Before we shoot her makeover, I want just a few as is under the dryer.”

“We can’t,” Susan interrupted. “Her extensions will frizz.”

“I didn’t say you had to turn it on,” Mary said sarcastically. That was the Mary that Sam remembered.

“What can I do tonight?” Sam asked again.

“Cross your legs,” Mary said.

“There is a very nice bistro in the local village.”

“Some one give her a magazine. Hold it right side up,” Mary snarled.

“Is it … nice?”

“It’s cozy … and dark.”

“Susan, let her up, we’re done. Julia, makeup time.” Mary wanted different beauticians in the shots, just to make the pictures more flexible and varied. Julia took Sam by the hand and led him over to another styling station.

“Can I drive one of your cars, tonight?”

“No. Sorry, but I can’t afford to leave it parked in a public area.”

“Do you have something to wear tonight?” Julia asked as she started the conversation over. She also began spreading foundation on Sam’s face.

“I don’t know.” Snap snap, brush, brush.

“I’m going to make you up really special, Samantha. You should wear something special.”

Sam sat and thought. Julia added a bit more foundation using a cosmetic sponge. Mary closed in tighter for another picture. Snap, snap, wipe, wipe.

“Make it elegant,” Susan said from her chair where she watching the activities. “I’m going to put her hair up in a sexy updo.”

“Do you have a favorite dress?” Julia asked. Now she was looking for her big brushes and some translucent powder.

“I do, I guess.”

“What’s it like?”

“It’s a long red dress with a low back and butterfly ruffles around the opening. It is a sleek dress.”

“Red? Not a problem,” Julia said. Snap, snap as Julia used the big brush on Sam’s cheek.

“Wait, I know,” Maggie said as she set down her camera and pulled her cell phone from a hidden pocket.

“What?” Sam asked, but Maggie already had her back to Sam and was talking as she walked to a quieter location.

“Do you know what Lisa is going to wear?” Susan asked.

“No idea.”

“You should pick something out for her,” Julia said.

“Move over this way,” Mary said.

“Excellent idea,” Susan said. “That would be really romantic. You pick out everything for her, lay them out and dress her up sexy.”

“Something easy to get off later,” Jillian squealed. Jillian was serving as assistant to Julia.
Whistles and catcalls came from around the room.

“Jillian, change places with Julia. I want a few pictures of you with Samantha.”

“What would you set out for her?” Julia asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ve got it,” Maggie said as she came back to the group.

“What?”

“Miss Samantha, look at me and smile.” Snap, snap, brush, brush.

“I’ve had a brainstorm.” She paused for dramatic effect.

“Come on Miss Maggie. Don’t hold back.” Susan pleaded.

“Is everyone here getting involved in my business?” Sam asked with a bit of humor.

“Of course,” Florence said. She was standing on the outside of the group watching the operation. “We’re your very own salon and that makes us family. Come on Miss Maggie, talk.”

“Julia, please step back in.”

“I talked with Miss Eunice and we’ve got a perfect set up for you. You’re going to go boating with her on Saturday.”

“Nice.”

“She has a condo at the yacht club and you can use it tonight.”

“Tell me more, please. This sounds neat.”

“It’s in a gated community and it has a garage.” Maggie picked up her camera and began adjusting some of the settings.

“That’s great! So can I … may I please borrow one of your cars Miss Maggie?” Maggie either ignored the question or just didn’t hear it as she followed Mary’s lead on a picture.

“Maggie please?”

“Of course, Samantha dear. We’ll get you something really hot!”

“Cool.”

“Freeze!” Snap, snap, click, click, brush, brush.

“Mary, how do you get that glare out your picture?”

“Miss Maggie, how do I get there?”

“Miss Samantha, turn your cheek please.” Snap, snap, click, click, color, color.

“We’ll Google directions at home.”

“You’re going boating, Miss Samantha?”

“You will have to pack for it.”

“You should pack for Miss Lisa too.”

“What are you going to pick out for Miss Lisa tonight?”

“Which car can I drive?”

“Pick out something elegant for her.”

“Don’t forget to pack a swim suit for her; for both of you.”

“Miss Samantha, don’t blink.” Snap, snap.

“Where can we eat tonight? Is there a restaurant there?”

“You better not drive a convertible. You will ruin my hair style,” Susan said.

“Don’t blink!”

“Jillian move in closer, I want both you and Julia. One on each side. Jillian brush on her mascara.”

“You have to pack a negligee for Miss Lisa.” There were a few snickers.

“Maybe she won’t need anything to wear to bed.” The salon broke up into raucous laughter.

“Ahem. Please remember who you are talking about ladies.”

“Sorry Miss Maggie.”

“But it was funny.”

“Miss Samantha, did you think it was funny?”

No answer. Everyone looked at Sam and he was quietly smiling.

“Someone has visions in her mind.”

They all broke up laughing again, even Miss Maggie.

“Dinner,” Maggie announced. “Do you like seafood?”

“Love it,” Susan said laughing again.

“Look up and don’t blink,” Julia said. Snap, snap, click, click, brush, brush.

“Miss Eunice says there is a wonderful seafood restaurant on the bay just two miles away.”

“What do we do with the car?”

“No more speaking. Pucker for me and give me a big cupid’s bow,” Mary said. Click, click, snap, snap, line, line.

“Stop! Freeze! Just hold the lip liner there. Pretend you are lining her lips, but do not move.”

“May I?”

“Sure Miss Maggie, but I would recommend you move here and stop down two steps. A bit under exposed on this is much more subtle than those in your face lipstick shots.”

“Thank you Mary.”

“OK, keep lining … but slowly! I want some more pictures of this.”

“Looking cute Miss Samantha.”

“Jillian, please step back, I want closer,” Mary said. “Ok, Julia, fill them in, but slowly. Only one half then stop. Here Miss Maggie, this is a good shot.” Snap, snap. “Ok, finish the lips.” Click, Click, snap, snap, brush, brush.

“Can I talk now?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Everyone started laughing again.

“Miss Maggie, what do I do with the car?”

“You go to the condo first. Leave the car in the garage and take a taxi to the restaurant. When you drive in, tell the guard house to make the call for the taxi.”

“Are you going to dress at home or when you get there?”

“Dress at home.”

“Yeah, you want to greet Miss Lisa all dolled up and ready for her.”

“Yes, you want her climbing into your lap on the drive over to the bay.”

“No you don’t,” Maggie warned.

The girls laughed.

“I’m not joking. One scratch and you will never drive again!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Lighten up Miss Maggie.”

A serious voice warned, “Don’t joke with Miss Maggie about her cars. Seriously.”

“Sorry. I got caught up in the fun.”

“Not to worry.”

“All done Mary. What do you think?”

“Just a few more, then Samantha can look.” Snap, snap, click, click.

“What do you think, Miss Samantha?”

“Wow! I like.”

“Miss Lisa will like also.” The place erupted again.

“Manicure time. Greta you’re on.”

“Come this way please.”

“Wait, I want to check her curlers first. Ok, you can go now.”

“Miss Samantha I’ll leave your cosmetics at Florence’s desk.”

“Ok.”

“Miss Samantha, you have to do something romantic when you get back from dinner.”

“A porno movie.” More laughter.

“I don’t think so,” Samantha said.

“Cooler heads will prevail,” Miss Maggie said. “Good answer, Samantha. In fact, that was your only answer,” she said with a grin.

“Candles. You need to do something with candles.”

“Fragrance.”

“Music. Romantic music.”

“Soft music that you can dance to.”

“Accordion music you can polka to.”

“What about the restaurant, Miss Maggie? Is it romantic?”

“Miss Eunice said she would take care of it.” Click, click, snap, snap, soak, soak.

“I want you to use that sparkly polish I picked out.”

“Which one, you picked out three.”

“What color is your dress going to be, Miss Samantha?”

“Fire engine red.”

“There’s your answer, Greta.” Click, click, snap, snap.

Just then a young girl walked up to the group. “Hi Sally.”

“Hi,” and Sally gave a little wave to everyone. “Miss Maggie, these are for you.” She handed a stack of small cards to Maggie.

“Thanks Sally. And tell Miss Eunice thanks also.”

Sally left. Maggie held up the cards to show Sam. “These are for you. Don’t let me forget to give them to you later.”

“What are they?”

“Miss Eunice’s personal cards. She has signed three of them for you.”

“Wow!”

“Oh my God!”

“What are they for?” the naive Sam asked.

“Money.”

“They’re better than money. They’re power.”

“Get out of jail free cards.” Everyone laughed again.

“When you need something tonight, just hand over one of these cards. No matter how difficult someone is being with you, these will get you anything you want.”

“I was right; they’re get out of jail free cards.”

“Can I have one?”

“Don’t you wish.”

“Yes, I do wish.”

“We all do, now Greta please hold her hand a little higher.” Click, click, snap, snap.

“Miss Maggie, which car do you think we can use?”

“Samantha, you can have anything in running order.”

“The Gull Wing?”

“Gulp.”

“You said anything,” someone said.

“And I told you don’t joke about Miss Maggie’s cars.”

“You’re right. I said anything. Samantha, be very, very gentle with her. Please?”

“I promise. I’ll set the cruise for under the speed limit.”

Maggie laughed. “It doesn’t have a cruise control.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“So what are you going to pick out for Miss Lisa?”

“I really don’t know. I’ll have to go through her closet and look.”

“Don’t forget shoes. You have to pick out shoes too.”

“What about tomorrow. What do you wear on a boat?”

“Miss Maggie, what does she pack for sailing?”

“For yachting Susan. It’s a motor boat.”

“How big is it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Guess. Please?”

“It’s probably around 100 foot.”

“Wow!”

“Diesel?”

“Twins for sure.”

“Does it have bedrooms on it?”

“Miss Samantha!” in a scandalous voice. Everyone understood the meaning and started laughing.

“I’ve heard that the motion of the boat makes the motion of the bed …”

“That’s enough,” Maggie said calmly. “Fun is fun girls; don’t take this into the gutter. A little decorum please.” Click, Click, Snap, snap.

“Does the condo have a hot tub?”

“I’m not sure.”

“That would be romantic. Especially with candles.”

“You are really hung up on those candles, girl. Did you grow up in the dark?”

“I like it,” Samantha said.

“Thhhhpt!”

“Don’t forget to pick out a swimsuit for Miss Lisa. I suggest a two piece.”

“Why bother with a swim suit?” More laughter.

“Girls …” a warning voice said.

“Because it’s more fun when you have something to take off.”

“Especially in candle light.”

“Oh please!”

“And slowly. You have to take it off her slowly.”

“Is this Seduction 101?”

“She’s right. The slower the better.”

“Fine, but after the hot tub, fragrant oils. Miss Samantha, have you ever used massage oils and lotions?”

“No.”

“Greta, please slide to your right and bend closer to her hand.” Click, click, snap, snap.

“She’s right. Do it right and they are especially erotic.”

“And what is right?”

“Slow and non-sensitive areas for starters. Then slowly move onto the breasts, then the nipples, then …”

“Girls, this isn’t a how to session. Let Miss Samantha learn some of this stuff by trial and error. That can be fun too.”

“You’ve totally forgotten about leather.” Everyone started laughing.

“I mean it girls.” Maggie’s tone made it final. Click, click.

“Miss Maggie, what else do I need to plan or do tonight? What about cash? Can we go to the bank when we leave here?”

“You won’t need any money. Let Lisa pay for everything.”

“Isn’t that being cheap?”

“Yes, but that is the way Lisa wants it. She insists.”

“What about money for tips and stuff?”

“Seriously Samantha, let Lisa handle the money.”

“Nice deal,” a voice said.

“Miss Maggie, I feel kind of … funny letting Lisa pay for everything. I have money. I’d like to treat her.”

“That’s a nice sentiment Samantha. But it’s better if she handles it. Don’t worry about it. Miss Lisa wants it this way, and I agree.”

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Samantha. The prettiest girl always gets treated.”

That wasn’t what Sam wanted to hear. He was NOT the prettiest girl and he had to say something. “I’m a boy pretending to be a girl. Lisa is the prettiest girl! I’m just a stupid boy!” He didn’t exactly scream it, but the affect was just the same.

The place went silent. Mary stopped taking pictures and everyone looked at Maggie. “Don’t some of us have something else to do right now?” Most of the girls walked away.
Maggie sat down next to Samantha and put her arm around him.

“They mean well, Samantha. They get giddy and stupid in a large group. Bu they all like you and respect you. In fact, I think they respect you more than you do yourself. We’ve discussed this before Samantha. We all know your situation and why you are here. You have nothing to apologize for, and you have nothing to feel ashamed about.

“You only need to keep two things in focus. One of them is you and the other is Lisa. That is all that matters. Lisa loves you. That is all you need to know and all you need to worry about. And she is in love with you … you Samantha, as you are. Not as you think you should be or how someone else thinks you should be.”

Maggie leaned back and sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could be younger and still know what I know now. Samantha, you have no idea how it would change your thoughts and views of the world. It would calm your worst fears and truly set you free. As you get older, you can look back at your fears and you realize how unimportant most of them were. Most of them disappear on their own, or never materialize in the first place. Believe me, in hindsight life was never as dangerous as you thought.

“If you could sit here in my shoes you would realize one very important thing Samantha. If you are happy, if you have the blessings of those who love you, nothing else matters. You are in a wonderful position Samantha; you have love and you have nothing … NOTHING … to regret or be ashamed of. There is no one that matters, unless you say so. You are your own destiny. The rest of the world is irrelevant.

“And finally, let me say something bold, crass and crude. You are with the Hawthorne family now. You bow to no one. We are immune to the petty thoughts of the rest of the world. I apologize for my hubris, but it’s true. I repeat: the rest of the world is irrelevant.”

Maggie gave him a tight hug and then slid away. “How are we doing Greta?”

“She can go with Susan, but I will need to come over for another coat of polish, and then the overcoat.”

“No problem,” Susan said. “Samantha, if you would please come with me.”

Maggie held behind and waited for Samantha to be out of hearing range. “Greta, tell everyone they did nothing wrong. Samantha is still getting used to the idea that he’s going to be girl for the rest of his life. He hasn’t totally accepted his situation yet, and he has his occasional doubts. It’s normal. But you girls shouldn’t worry about it. We had fun and no one did or said anything to set him off. He’ll get over it.”

“Thank you Miss Maggie.”

Susan began drying Sam’s hair with her hand held blower on low temperature. Mary was taking pictures like nothing had happened, and Maggie began shooting pictures also. No one said anything except for Mary’s instructions on posing for the camera.

Greta delivered Maggie’s message then slid a chair up in front of Sam. She set a pillow with a board on it, on Sam’s lap. “Hands please. It will only take a second to apply your second coat.”

Mary and Maggie shot pictures, but Susan waited until Greta finished. “I think your nails will match the color on the gull wing,” Maggie said.

Susan looked at Maggie and asked, “Does the front seat sit high or low?”

“Average I guess. Why?”

“If I pile Samantha’s hair too high, it won’t hit the ceiling and get all mussed, will it?”

Maggie looked at Sam and grinned, “Do you mind leaving the phone book at home?”

Sam smiled and answered, “No problem.” The mood was broken. It would take a few more minutes, but he was going to be alright.

“I’d be more worried about Lisa,” Maggie said. “She’s going to have trouble keeping her hands off Samantha.”

“Just tell her to leave the hair alone. I’m working hard here and I don’t want her to muss it too early in the evening.”

“No promises,” Samantha said. Snap, Snap, click, click.

Greta finished with the polish and said, “Fifteen minutes and then the over coat. Do you still want to do the hand wax?”

“Do we have time?”

“It will take 45 minutes at least. I have to polish the calluses off your hands and then the warm soak is 30 minutes on top of that.”

Maggie did the math. “As much as I think you should do it, it would be best not to push our time. Something might come up at home and cause a delay; like picking our Lisa’s dress and packing for the weekend.”

“I agree,” Samantha added.

‘That’s settled. Now please remove the pillow so we can shoot the styling,” Mary said. Snap, click, snap, click, unroll, unroll, pin, pin.

“I’ve got a really awesome style planned for you Miss Samantha. You’re going to have barrel curls piled on top with a phenomenal flip in front. With your highlighted hair this style should look cute beyond description.”

Just do it, Susan,” Mary said. Snap, click, click, unroll, pin, pin, snap, snap.”

“Do you mind if I use diamond studded hair sticks?”

“You’ve got diamonds here?”

“I have access to all kinds of neat things … for the right client.”

“Will it go with my dress?”

“Diamonds go everything; no exceptions,” Susan bragged.

“I agree with Samantha,” Maggie chirped in. Snap, snap. “Let’s look at the diamonds first. Do you have anything better suited to a hot red dress?”

“Absolutely.” Click, snap, pin, pin. “Ok, let’s slip in the diamond sticks.

Susan swung Sam around to face the big mirror, then held the small mirror behind her. Sam looked at the back of her style in the mirror. “What do you think?”

“I like it. But what about something red? Can we see what that would look like?”

“Not yet, Mary,” broke in. “I want you as is first. I want some after pictures as you are.”

“I haven’t given her her overcoat,” Greta said.

Mary gave Greta a nasty look and asked, “Will it make any difference in her appearance?” Mary didn’t even wait for an answer. She offered Sam her hand and pulled him out of the chair. “We’ll come back and get the other hair sticks.”

Snap, click, click, snap, snap, “Turn,” snap, snap, “More attitude,” click, click, “Other hip, leg forward,” Snap, click, click, “Perfect,” click, click, snap, “More pout, head down just a tad,” snap, snap. Ten minutes later Mary returned Sam to Susan and Greta. Greta applied Sam’s last coat of clear hardener to his nails, and Susan swapped out the diamond sticks for two incredible 6 inch hairsticks made from elegant hand carved wood and finished in a bright berry color. The ends had two deep red Siam crystals on each hair stick and finished with 24 karat gold.

Sam took one look in the mirror and said, “These are perfect. I’ll take them.”
Click, snap.

“Then you’re finished, sweetie. Your nails are still tacky, so don’t touch anything.”

“Back over here,” Mary instructed. “I agree these are going to look even better.” Snap, Snap, click, click, finished.

“Thank you Samantha, you were great. I’ll send the pictures to Miss Maggie in a couple of days. Enjoy your weekend,” and she gave Sam a sweet smile and wink.

Sam shook his head to test his new style. “Susan, how long will this hold?”

“As fragile as it looks, it’s pinned very tight. It won’t hold up to a gale force wind, but I think it will hold up to a yacht ride. But …” and she gave Sam awry smile.

“What?”

“I don’t think it will last one evening. Not this evening at least. But that’s just my guess,” she said with a chuckle.

Sam had recovered from his earlier tantrum. He laughed also. He picked up his purse and cosmetics. He looked in the bag and found his lip liner, lip gloss, blush, foundation, mascara, eye liner, eye shadows; everything that Julia had used for his makeover. Sam said his goodbyes and followed Miss Maggie out into the lobby. She handed Sam a thick envelope. “One half day’s work.”

“But I have no where to spend it,” Sam whined. “You won’t let me.”

“That’s because we want you to save your money for yourself. When you’re with Lisa, let her spend her money. She has of tons of it.”

“So what do I do with it?”

“The bank is over here. Keep a couple hundred and put the rest in your savings.” Maggie took Sam’s hand and walked him to the bank where she introduced him to the manager. The manager deposited Sam’s money and gave him an updated receipt.

Hand in hand, Maggie led him down the lobby to another store. “You can spend some of your money here,” she told Sam.

“On what?”

“Condoms. A girl going on a big date should never leave home without them. Buy a big supply.”

Sam returned with a bag containing several boxes of condoms. “Put some in your purse as soon as we get to the car. Don’t forget!” Maggie again took Sam’s hand and headed to the parking elevator. “Samantha, let’s get you home and ready for your evening. I think you are going to have a wonderful time. In fact, I’m positive you will.”

Maggie drove them home in one of the company limousines. Sam sat in the back and plotted with Miss Maggie while she drove. It was still early afternoon and the traffic hadn’t reached rush hour proportions, so they made it home in normal time. “I’ll help you as soon as I print off driving directions,” Maggie said. Maggie headed to the office and Sam walked upstairs.

Fifteen minutes later Maggie found Samantha in Lisa’s bedroom. “I left the directions by the front door. How’s it coming up here?”

“Ok. I picked out this dress. Do you think it will be ok with Lisa?”

“Absolutely, my compliments on picking out a winner; a sexy winner. Lisa has great curves and this will really show them off. Did you pick out a push-up brassiere?”

The two of them went through several scenarios for Lisa and her clothes. They laid out lingerie, negligees, swim wear, and sun dresses, and finally toiletries and cosmetics. When they felt they had just the perfect earrings, bracelets and necklaces, the right fragrance and the necessary clothes for boating, they began packing. When they felt confident they had everything packed properly, Maggie took the bags downstairs and Sam went to get himself ready.

He stripped down to his panties and stockings and called for Maggie. Maggie helped Sam properly place his adhesive covered breast forms on his chest. Before placing them Maggie asked, “May I feel your chest? I want to see if you need additional laser depilation.”

Sam thought nothing of the request and agreed. Maggie smiled and caressed his chest as she “checked” for hair. “Glorious, what a sexy la femme,” Maggie thought to herself.

“Ok,” she said. “I don’t think you will need much more than occasional clean-ups. She helped Sam with his breast forms then asked, “Can I help you with anything else?”

“No thank you, Miss Maggie. I can get everything else by myself.”

“Call when you’re packed, I’ll help you carry things down to the car.” Maggie went downstairs to wait for Sam.

Sam dressed and packed all of his items for the weekend. He and Maggie packed the car then parked it in back where Lisa would not see it. Maggie placed a call to see where Chas and Lisa were.

“Twenty minutes,” Maggie relayed. “Are you sure you have everything ready?”

“I hope so.”

“How about posing for me while we wait for Lisa?”

“Sure.”

Maggie played with her camera, trying some extreme close-ups and other “artistic” poses. “I received your wedding dress pictures yesterday. I’ll transfer them to a memory stick and I’ll give them to you when you get back. And of course I’ll give you a copy of everything from today. I’m sure you will want copies for your personal scrapbook. After a few more shots Maggie received another call. “Places,” she told Sam. Sam stepped into the middle of the foyer, placed his hands behind his back and waited in his most sexy, pouty pose. “Damn!” Maggie thought. “If he didn’t belong to Lisa I would take him in a heartbeat … or less.”

Chas pulled the limo up to the front circle and parked. Lisa waited patiently while Chas walked around to open her door. He offered his hand to Lisa to help her step out. Chas closed the door then led the way up the front walk. He climbed the steps to the front door and opened it for Lisa. He stepped back to allow her to enter first.

Lisa stepped into the house and came to an abrupt halt. She saw Sam standing in the middle of the foyer and she gasped. “Oh my,” she slowly drawled. “Oh my,” she repeated as she slowly walked towards him. Sam tilted his head down and looked up at her with wide open, puppy dog eyes. Sam drooped his shoulders as much as possible and twisted his body lightly to the side in his best “Aw shucks, ma’am,” pose.

“Welcome home Lisa,” he said in his sexiest voice.

“Oh, my. What do we have here?” She walked up to Sam and then around him, inspecting him front to back and back to front. Standing behind him she ran a fingernail down his back and watched his skin shiver into goose pimples. “Cute.” She looked at his hands and saw that he had a fresh manicure. “Samantha you got a manicure. They’re just the prettiest nails.” She sniffed the air and said, “Our favorite perfume. Oh my.” She stopped in front of Sam and looked at him with a huge smile. A bigger smile broke out on Sam’s face. With a big sigh she repeated, “Oh my.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I think that says it all, don’t you?”

“Well don’t I get a kiss?”

“Not yet. I want to look at you some more. Oh my,” and she sighed again. She leaned into Sam’s shoulder and sniffed again. Then she blew in his ear and said barely above a whisper, “You are the most heavenly vision I have ever seen. I want you now.”

Sam held his position but dropped his hands by his side. “We can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?” she asked as she leaned back, took him by the chin and lifted his head so they could look in each other’s eyes. She leaned towards him, closed her eyes and gently placed a kiss on his lips. A soft and tender kiss that wouldn’t smear his lipstick, but would send her message to him.

He closed his eyes as she leaned into him. He accepted her kiss and kept his eyes closed. Still whispering he said, “Because you have to get dressed. I laid out everything for you on your bed.”

Lisa stepped back and reached for his hand. “My God you are beautiful. Why should I get dressed instead of you taking your clothes off?”

“Because I spent all day getting beautiful for you. Before I get undressed for you, I have a surprise for you.”

“What?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

“It’s huge.”

“Is it between your legs?”

Sam began giggling and losing his composure. “To be honest, it feels like it is going to break. But no, it is not between my legs.”

“Ok, what do I have to do?”

“Go to your bedroom, change into the clothes that I have laid out for you, then come back down here. I will be waiting for you.”

“Do you have plans?”

“Yes.”

She had teased him long enough. She gave Sam a very soft kiss on the lips and said, “Tonight I shall be yours.” Lisa walked up the stairs and out of sight. Meanwhile, Maggie was bringing the car around front. Maggie came inside and found Sam stilling standing in the same place she had left him.

“Is everything ok? Where is Lisa?”

“Getting dressed.”

“Well, are you all ready?”

“Yes, no wait. Where are the driving directions?”

“Right here,” Maggie said. She picked them off a table and then stepped close to Sam; very close. Maggie leaned against Sam’s side and arm and smelled his perfume. Miss Maggie was getting horny. She showed Sam the papers and the two of them discussed the directions.

When they were satisfied that Sam wouldn’t get lost, Maggie gave him a hug and exchanged air kisses. “Have a wonderful time, Samantha. And be careful with my car!”

“Yes ma’am. And thank you Miss Maggie. You have been wonderful to me. I really appreciate it … and you.”

“Ready or not here I come,” Lisa yelled down from upstairs. Sam and Maggie turned to watch Lisa glide down the stairs. Sam knew only two colors when it came to elegant; red and black. He was wearing red and he had Lisa dressed in black. She had a black dress, black stockings, black shoes and a black clutch purse. She walked over to Sam and walked up tight against him. She pressed her breasts against his and her hips against his. Sam held his position and Lisa touched noses with him.

“Where’s my surprise?” she asked in a whisper.

Maggie was watching from across the foyer and she almost came in her panties.

“Outside.”

“Is it a pony?”

“About 400, and they come with a red carriage.”

Lisa placed a light kiss on his lips and said, “Miss Samantha, I am yours. Please lead the way.” Lisa placed her arm through Sam’s and broke one of her rules. She allowed Sam to play the boy. She would correct that later, but right now they were having fun. Sam walked them to the door and held it open for her. Lisa stepped out and said, “Holy shit! Maggie’s favorite.”

“Uh, uh, uh,” Sam scolded her. “Ladies of refinement must watch their language.” But Sam obviously appreciated her comment.

“How did you get Maggie to give you the car?”

“I promised to be extra careful. No distractions while driving,” he warned her.

“I can’t promise that,” she teased.

“You have to,” he said as he took her to the car and opened her door. Lisa slipped into the car and Sam strolled around to the driver’s side. He looked towards the house and Maggie was standing on the front steps. She blew him a kiss.

“Do you know how to drive a standard?”

“I’ve been practicing for two weeks.” Sam started the car, let out the clutch and smoothly eased the antique down the drive and out onto the main road.

“So where are we going, Samantha?”

Sam explained his weekend plans for the two of them.

Lisa gave him her stamp of approval. “You and Maggie must have bonded this week.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because no one has ever driven this car except for Maggie. No one.”

For some strange reason Sam was surprised at the attention he drew on the drive to the bay. Half the cars they encountered waved or stared. On the interstate, cars would parallel them for miles as they stared at the car and the two beauties in it. The guys in one car tried to hand their telephone to Sam while driving 65 mph. Sam slowed way down so they would pass and leave him alone. The last thing he needed was to have some horny teenage boys sideswipe his 1955 300SL gull wing antique.

It took two hours to drive to the bay and reach the condos. Sam stopped at the gate house and announced himself. The guard refused to let him in. Sam tried for 5 minutes before he got frustrated enough to remember the cards in his purse. He rifled through his purse and found the cards. He handed one to the guard and the situation reversed so fast that Sam couldn’t believe his eyes. The guard was practically crawling on his belly apologizing. He opened the gate for Sam.

“Call me a taxi please.”

“Yes ma’am, immediately.”

“And I want my card returned.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Sam drove through the gate and found the correct condo. “I’m pissed,” he announced.

“Why?”

“Why did I have to get out that card? For crying out loud, two hot babes in a 1955 Mercedes gull wing pulls up and he questions our credentials? Come on, he was screwing with us.”

Lisa laughed. “Maybe, but if he was he was really stupid. Guys try strange things with girls, especially two “hot babes”. But you’re right, the money in front of his face indicates that he is really conceited or just plain stupid. Forget about it. Is this the place?”

“You’ve never been here?”

“Nope.”

Sam parked in front of the garage. “Wait a minute,” he said as he got out to open the garage door. But Lisa wanted to stretch her legs, so she lifted her door and stepped out.
Sam drove the car in the garage and opened the interior door to the condo.

Lisa caught up with Sam and took his hand as they walked inside. Sam should have known better by now, but he was surprised by the opulence of the condo. It had a huge “fireworks” chandelier in the front foyer, a giant projection TV with audio power only Maggie could have assembled in the leisure room, leather furniture so soft it felt like velvet and a bedroom that … would be enjoyed later. They brought their luggage inside and barely had time to raid the refrigerator before a taxi was honking out front.

They exited via the front door and Lisa walked down to the taxi and waited for Sam to catch up. Sam reached the taxi and began reaching for the rear door. Lisa quickly grabbed his arm and stopped him. “The man will either treat us right or I’ll call a limo.”

“Taxi drivers won’t get out and open the door for you,” Sam explained.

“Want to bet? Samantha, we’re hot property. Let’s see if he has any class at all.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then we walk back inside, I’ll call a limo and we can wait on the balcony while sipping that delicious red wine I spotted in Miss Eunice’s wine rack.”

They had been standing there a bit over one minute. “How long do we wait?” Sam asked with a smile. He actually liked this power play.

“Thirty seconds. Then we walk.” With ten seconds to go the driver opened his door and stepped out. He had a nasty attitude as he walked back.

He opened the door and sarcastically said, “Princess.”

Sam didn’t know what to say, but Lisa did. She looked inside, sniffed the air and said, “It smells like a sewer.” Turning to the driver she said, “Go wash your carriage, sir.” She grabbed Sam’s arm and turned them away and walked back to the condo.

Sam let them back inside and turned to Lisa, “Wasn’t that kind of rude?”

“He was rude. Besides, I’m feeling sassy, sexy and silly tonight. I’d rather spend the time with you, Samantha.”

“But Miss Eunice has something nice set up for us tonight. We shouldn’t just refuse to go.” Sam had learned his lesson in New York City.

“You’re right,” Lisa said. “Sorry. I’m feeling stupid also. One minute,” and she walked over to the phone. She looked around until she saw the guardhouse telephone number. She dialed the number and said, “This is Miss Hawthorne in 50. Please order a limo for us. We need it ASAP.”

She returned to Sam and wrapped her arms around him, gave him a little kiss then laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I was being rude and stupid. I guess I’m giddy about seeing you again. I missed you Samantha. I couldn’t get you out of mind this week. I would be studying, really getting into the subject and then a blank. Everything went blank and all I could think about was you.

“I was so excited about getting home and seeing you that I must have psyched myself too much. Because when I saw you, I just … I just went blank again. I walked in and … my god.” Lisa stepped back from Sam and looked in his eyes, “You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Yes I said girl. But I know what you have under that dress and … and … and Samantha I just can’t explain what I felt. Or what I feel now. I don’t want to go out to eat. I want to explore the body and soul of the most beautiful person on this planet.”

She stepped back and said, “But that would be too selfish. Miss Eunice went out of her way to help us, so we must show our appreciation and accept her gift. Why don’t you open that cabernet and we can sit on the balcony, enjoy the view and sip the wine until the limo arrives. Is that ok?”

“We can do that,” Sam said as he began looking for a cork screw. He opened the wine and poured half a glass for each of them. Hand in hand they walked out on the balcony and looked over the harbor. “Do you know which boat is Miss Eunice’s?”

“No idea. There are too many.”

“Have you ever been on this boat?”

“Call it a ship. Miss Eunice doesn’t like the term boat — too small. It’s been a long time, but yes I was out on it once before. A long time ago.”

They leaned against the railing and faced one another. Lisa caressed Sam’s arm and looked into his eyes. She smiled and caressed his arm for several minutes. “So what did you do today?”

Sam told her about his day, except for one thing. He couldn’t bring himself to discuss his milking by the doctor. That was just too weird and embarrassing. “And what did you do today?”

“Dreamed mostly. I finished a term paper and submitted it this morning, then mostly I waited for Chas.” She touched Sam’s chin and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “And I thought about you. I’ve missed you, Samantha.”

“I missed you too.”

“I’m sorry for messing up your evening.”

“Nothing is messed up. We’re a bit behind schedule is all. And I enjoy being here, sipping wine and talking with you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me Lisa. And you are the most beautiful girl in the world. I love you.”

She blew him a kiss. “I can’t wait to kiss you the way I want to.”

“I got mad today when Maggie said I couldn’t spend my money on you. She insisted that I let you buy everything. I asked her what good my money was if I couldn’t spend it on the girl I loved. She said there was something that I could buy.”

“What?”

“Rubbers. I bought rubbers today,” he said with a giggle. “I’ve made thousands of dollars as a girl model and all I can buy is prophylactics.”

“And we will use them. How many did you get?”

“Several dozen.”

“It will be close, but we should be ok.”

They set their glasses on the balcony railing and hugged. “Two weeks to Paris, my love.”

“I know. I’m looking forward to it.”

“We have a lot of shopping to do before we go. And there is only one place to shop … New York City. We have to go back to New York and get some summer dresses, and cocktail dresses, some new shoes and for Paris we have to have big, big hats. We have a lot of power shopping to do, Samantha.”

“How about another show while we’re in New York?”

“Absolutely.” They hugged a bit longer then released each other. Lisa picked up her glass and took a sip. She looked over the harbor and wistfully said, “Paris. I can’t wait to stand in front of the Eiffel Tower with you, hold your hand and kiss you. Paris is the most romantic city in the world.

“I was there when I was 14. I went with mom. She had some business there and I caught up a couple days after she went. I walked around that city and watched the lovers and looked at the sites and I promised myself that someday I would go back with my lover. I’ve dreamed about Paris for too many years. I’ve probably romanticized it beyond recognition. But I don’t think so, and I don’t’ care.

“I always thought that going back to that city with my lover would be the epitome of romance and love. But I was wrong … and right, but in the wrong way. I’ve always dreamed of going to Paris. But now all I dream about is going with you.”

Sam was quiet for several moments. “You sure now how to flatter a girl,” Sam said with a giggle. He didn’t know why he called himself a girl, but it just felt like it was the right thing to say at that moment. Maybe because he was wearing an elegant red dress filled out with sexy breasts and a curvaceous waist and hips. Maybe his elegant hair style or professional makeup had something to do with it. But for whatever reason, Sam decided to become Samantha for their evening of lust and seduction.

Both wanted to seduce the other. They were both beautiful “women” and they both wanted to please their lover. Love was in the air. They lost themselves in each other’s eyes, and they might have stayed there for the evening, but the doorbell broke their concentration. “Limo is here,” Lisa said. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Only until we return, I hope.”

The restaurant was only ten minutes away. It was located on the waterfront overlooking another harbor. They were seated on a second story veranda around a table for four. No one else was seated on the veranda; they had it to themselves. There was a hurricane lantern sitting in the middle of the table. It was still light outside, but the lantern’s candle was burning brightly. The table was set with linens, the silverware looked like actual silver, and the glassware was crystal. The waiter was most gracious and he led them through a leisurely and delicious meal.

The two inamoratas talked about Paris, and New York, and shopping, and finals week, and horseback riding, and Samantha’s earrings, and his decoy ring, and Paris, and Samantha’s dress, and Lisa’s dress, and hot antique cars, and a specific red Mercedes 330SL gull wing car, and boating on the Chesapeake Bay, and Paris some more, and Switzerland, and Lisa’s sister, and New York shows, and on and on and on. Conversation came so easy for the two girls.

Lisa watched and studied and lusted for her courtesan. She marveled at how easy his attitude and movements were. Miss Grace had been right; Samantha was sinuous and graceful in his movements. The feminization of Sam was still incomplete, but Lisa could see exciting potential in her project.

And best of all, her effeminate boy was happy. He was accepting his feminization, his transformation, and his metamorphous into a beautiful and feminine courtesan, named Samantha. And later, Lisa would make him her sexy and submissive concubine. Lisa couldn’t wait.

At the end of the meal the waiter returned and said, “I have been instructed to ask for a card.” Sam immediately knew what he wanted and searched through his purse to find one of Miss Eunice’s cards. He handed the card to the waiter, who flipped it over to see the signature and thanked the two girls, “Have a great evening.”

Lisa answered, “We intend to. Thank you.”

The sun had set and dusk was descending over the bay. The west horizon was turning a dark purple as the two lovers held hands and walked to their limo. Upon returning to the condo Lisa asked, “Do you want to walk through the harbor and look for Miss Eunice’s ship?”

“Not really.”

“Me neither. It’s been a long day and I am really tired. I think I’ll retire for the evening,” she teased.

Sam reached for Lisa’s arm and turned her towards him. He held her by the shoulders and stepped closer. Sam looked in Lisa’s eyes and leaned in for a gentle kiss. They kept their eyes open as they kissed. “It’s time to retire Samantha.”

Lisa led them into the guest bedroom. She turned on a few lights and Sam closed the curtains. “If I know you, you want me to remain in my makeup.”

“Please. You are so lovely I hate to have you change a single thing.”

Sam stepped behind Lisa and pulled down the zipper on her dress. He helped her step out of the dress and then he hung it up for her. Sam unclasped her bra and removed it, exposing her perky breasts. He lavished a soft kiss on each nipple, pressing just hard enough to leave a little lip color on each. After removing all of Lisa’s clothing Sam opened her valise and removed her pink babydoll. He helped Lisa slip into her sexy sleepwear.

Then it was Samantha’s turn. Lisa loosened the cummerbund on Sam’s dress and unhooked the clasps. “I know why you love this dress, Samantha.”

“Why?”

“You don’t have to wear your corset when you wear this dress.”

“That’s part of it, but I do love this dress. It’s sexy, don’t you think?”

“When you are wearing it.” Lisa continued undressing her paramour and stripped him naked. Then she helped Samantha into a diaphanous gown of silk and lace. “Bring me your lipstick sweetie.”

Sam found his lip gloss and handed it with a lip brush to Lisa. “Pucker up my little cupid. I want to freshen those pouty lips. I am so glad you had those collagen injections. How about you?”

“Absolutely.”

Lisa colored his lips, then said, “Please lift your gown.” Sam lifted his gown and Lisa gripped his pulsating penis. She used her brush to color the tip of Sam’s penis the same glossy color. She flitted the brush back and forth and watched Sam’s penis involuntarily twitch and jump and bounce under the brush’s soft strokes. Lisa colored in the entire tip of Sam’s penis. “There, everything matches. Now you are perfect, don’t you think?” she giggled.

“For sure.”

“Please hold you gown up and lie on the bed. I have something I’ve been wanting to do all evening.”

“Hot damn,” Sam thought to himself. He did as he was told, lying on his back with his gown pulled up just under his faux breasts. Lisa joined him lying in the opposite direction. She held his penis by the base and began licking Sam’s penis like a lollipop. Lick, lick, lick. Lisa looked at Sam and held her tongue out. “Do I have lipstick on my tongue?” she asked and held it out for inspection a second time.

“You’re acting silly,” Sam said.

“But you’re the silly filly,” Lisa countered. “Come on, does my tongue have lipstick on it?” and again she stuck it out.

“Yes it does,” Sam answered.

“Is it cute?”

“Adorable.”

She licked his penis a few more times, until she had smeared the lipstick all over his penis. Then she slid down his shaft and took him into her mouth. Using her hand to stroke him while she slid her mouth up and down she quickly had him on the verge of erupting. “I’m going to cum,” Sam warned. Lisa slid up his shaft and prepared for him to erupt into her mouth.

Sam was in seventh heaven with Lisa still on his cock as he ejaculated in her mouth. Lisa took only two eruptions then pulled off and allowed him to spurt over his own stomach. As he ejaculated Lisa continued to stroke him with her hand, helping him finish his job. Then she quickly moved up with her mouth full of semen and hovered over Sam’s mouth.

“Ofen,” she tried to say.

“What?”

“Offen ur mouf.” Sam opened and Lisa dribbled his semen into his mouth. She used her tongue to push the semen out of her mouth into Sam’s, then she tongued her cheeks and tasted his cum. “Do you like it?”

He swallowed and said, “Can’t say that I’m crazy about it.”

“What does it taste like?”

He rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tongued his cheeks. “Sticky, and viscous. It has more smell and aroma than taste.”

“I agree,” Lisa said. “It is unique, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“But not all together horrible, is it?”

“I don’t think I care for it,” he reiterated.

“From now on I insist on sharing. If I go down on you, you get to swallow too.” She thought a few more minutes and said, “Saline? Does it have a rather penetrating saline taste?”

“I don’t know,” Sam answered. Then he licked his lips. “Ahhh,” he thought to himself. “My lipstick tastes wonderful, and it helps cover the taste of the semen. Ok, now I know what to do next time.”

Lisa softly kissed Sam’s lips and used her tongue to pry his lips open. Still touching their lips together softly, Lisa pushed her tongue into Sam’s mouth and swished it around. “I like the taste of you. There must be some pheromones in your semen because I find this weird tasting stuff sexy. Sam I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“If I lick the semen off your stomach, will you lick my cunt?”

Sam laughed. “You have a way with words. Please, clean me up and I will pleasure you to ecstasy.”

Lisa moved to his stomach and saw much less semen than the last time they had done this. She slurped up a string of semen and after swallowing she said, “There doesn’t seem to be as much semen as the last time I fellated you.”

Sam was quiet while Lisa licked up another section of his stomach. “Have you been doing something naughty?” she asked. She was insinuating that Sam had been masturbating.

“Never, Lisa. Everything I have I save for you. But …”

“But what?”

“This is weird Lisa. I had to go to the doctor this morning and she milked me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, milking is when she pushes her finger up my …”

“I know what milking is Samantha. Is everything ok?”

“I guess so. She says my prostate is fine. She says it’s the best way to check for low iron. It sounds pretty weak to me.”

“No, I’ve read that, Samantha. I wonder if some of your taste is due to iron?” Slurp. Slurp. “Your tummy is finished.” She grabbed his penis and stroked the half flaccid penis, forcing additional semen out the tip. She licked it off the tip of Sam’s penis. “Finished.”

Lisa slid up to Sam’s mouth and gave him a gentle kiss. “Make me scream, my silly filly.”

Sam slid between Lisa’s legs and looked up for his instructions from Lisa. Lisa looked at Sam and marveled at how his hair was rolled and pampered into such beautiful barrel curls, pinned into an exquisite structure and then finished with those beautiful red hair sticks. She reached for Sam and caressed his cheek. “Let me look at you for just a minute. I am amazed at how beautiful you are. Not everyone can be put into an elegant updo, made up with heavy makeup and pull it all together into such a sexy package. It takes talent, Samantha. It takes an inner beauty to turn outer beauty into that something special. Marilyn Monroe obviously had it. So did Katherine Hepburn and Mae West and I loved —still do — Sophia Loren. Even the Mona Lisa has it. Samantha whatever that something special is, you have it. My god you have it.

“Please treat me gently. Kiss me and inhale my fragrance. Tell me what you smell. Tell me what you feel. Please.”

Sam was never so pleased to perform his duty. He very gently kissed Lisa and licked her vagina, barely penetrating between her labia. He took a deep breath, then licked her once more. With his nose a millimeter above Lisa’s most intimate spot he spoke, “What ever your smell is, I want it. I desperately want it. Going so slowly drives me crazy.”

“I know my little filly. It drives me crazy too. And that is why I love it so much. And why I love you so much. I love you because you are so slow. As I told you once before, males are too harsh and abrupt, and they have no patience. Hence, they have no ability to understand and truly please a woman. But you are so special, Samantha. You are so soft and gentle and patient and feminine that you can truly understand and please your girl. I have never had sex with another girl, but I can imagine that this is what it must be like. Women understand women, and you certainly understand me.

“You make an adorable woman when you’re between my legs and a beautiful man when I mount you. You are truly the best of two worlds; the dichotomy that exceeds and transcends all boundaries. I love you so much. Please continue my epicene enigma.”

Sam had no idea what an epicene enigma was, and he didn’t care; he was getting sex from a beautiful girl. But Sam wasn’t sure he wanted to be considered a woman performing cunnilingus on another girl. That was just too weird. But then again, this was his kinky girlfriend. Did she really consider him to be a lesbian? Maybe she did want to have that 3-way that Lydia Dahl had once offered. “That might be fun … and kinky,” he thought.

Sam kissed his girlfriend and then penetrated her labia with his tongue; just a bit deeper than the previous time. Little by little, kiss by kiss and lick by lick he increased his penetration, his pressure, his stimulation of Lisa’s clitoris. Little by little, kiss and pause, lick and pause, a breath of warm air, a little suck on her clit, a deep breath of her intoxicating and earthy aroma and a slow build up to an earth shattering crescendo.

Lisa arched her back, heaved her hips off the bed and lifted Sam with her. Her hands clutched the bed sheets, her head rolled back and she … screamed! She screamed like the Banshee swooping through a night sky filled with lightening bolts. Sam jerked and shot a glance at Lisa as she was convulsing in ecstasy. At first he was scared, then concerned, but all of that quickly passed when he realized the true situation. Samantha smiled.

Lisa returned to earth, her body glistening with tiny beads of sweat. When she had regained her faculties Sam asked, “Did we do good?”

Lisa petted her benefactor’s hair and cheek. She twirled Sam’s red hair stick and fondled the big curl in the front of his style. She was deliberately slowing down the conversation while demonstrating her fondness for Sam. “Yes my sweet Samantha, you done good. Please let me rest for a moment. That was so intense.”

Lisa rested a few moments, looked at Sam and smiled. “You’re getting very good at this. Do you know how I know?”

“Because you screamed like I was killing you?”

“No, my silly filly,” she giggled. “Because you hardly smeared your lipstick at all; just a smidgen. Obviously you have learned how to be gentle and yet extremely effective.”

Sam laid his head on Lisa’s tummy and tickled her pubic hairs by ever so gently touching and petting them. His hand rested on her pelvis and then a finger tantalizingly slowly slid through her pubic hair and touched her labium.

“Oooooh,” Lisa moaned.

Sam had never fingered his lover. He had always supplied her stimulation orally or with his cock. He pushed her labium open and slid his finger inside and into the moist nether regions below. He blew gently across her hair and labium, giving Lisa a small rush of stimulation.

“I like,” she whispered. “Go ahead, slide your finger in and then gently pull it up and over my clit. Up only, don’t reverse direction. That’s nice,” as she shuddered slightly. “Do it again Samantha. Enter me with your finger and swish it around gently to get it soaked in my juices, then slide it up and out over my clit.

“Niiiice,” she cooed. “You’re getting the idea. This time slide your finger in and out slowly. Yes, do it again. Wonderful, continue for a few more strokes. Now up over my clit and get ready to stop. There, hold your finger right there. Oh yes. Rub gently … gently! That is my g-spot and it is oh so tender. Use just the tip of your finger nail and touch me there. Careful … don’t scratch. Just touch. Back to your finger, stroke me very, very slowly and gently.

“Oh Samantha, you are so good. Please use your tongue now. Kiss me and lick me right where it counts. You know the spot. Do it with your softest feminine touch. Just once more bring me to ecstasy and then I shall return the favor. I want to make love to my girl one more time.”

Sam continued a routine with which he was becoming accustomed and proficient. He was confident in his abilities and most importantly, he truly enjoyed his task. The aroma, the feel, the anticipation and the satisfaction were wonderful rewards for his performance. But most of all, his success with Lisa was the ultimate reward. Her scream was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard; after his heart rate returned to normal. It signified the most important thing in his life; he had satisfied his beautiful, kinky and rich girlfriend.

Lisa’s hips bucked and her back arched again. Her hands reached for the sky then wrapped themselves around her as she tried to hold herself together as she figuratively fell apart. She shuddered, she shook, she bit her lip and then when caught in the final throes of an enormous orgasm Lisa let out another blood curdling scream. As her ass went arching towards nirvana Sam dug his well manicured and bright red nails into her supple ass. He squeezed harder than he intended as he too became caught in the moment. Lisa screamed a second time as pure pain pierced her skin.

Sam quickly realized what he had done and immediately released his grip. “Lisa I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized. “Really, really sorry. I lost my head.”

Sam continued for several moments while Lisa held her breath and squeezed her bun muscles, trying to assess the damage. Then she giggled. Sam looked at her and she looked him in the eyes. She giggled some more and then she began laughing. She slid her hands down under her tush to feel the damage, while Sam stared in disbelief and stopped his effusive apologies. Lisa’s laugh gradually died down to a giggle as she retrieved her hand and examined it for blood.

She put a finger in her mouth and slowly and seductively withdrew it for Sam. “No blood. Holy shit Samantha, what got into you?” She was still giggling.

“I’m sorry Lisa. I lost it … I just … I don’t know. You screamed and I just felt that … like I had to help somehow. It was almost like I was a part of you and I wanted to scream … or squeeze something hard.”

“I loved it, sweetie. It totally caught me off guard. But Shit! That was totally interesting!”

Sam giggled just a bit and said, “It’s a good thing I didn’t decide to bite something down there.”

The two of them laughed uproariously. “I’ll second that,” Lisa roared. After laughing for minutes, Lisa rolled over on her stomach and exposed her butt for Sam. “Samantha? How bad does it look? Will I recover?”

Sam rubbed his hand over the nail prints that he had embedded in Lisa’s flesh. He sighed and answered, “It looks kind of … ugly. I got you good. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry girl, I loved it. It surprised the hell out of me but I loved it. There is something to say for spontaneity, but next time …” and she laughed again.

Sam didn’t know what to say so he tried to rub and caress her injuries. He was very gentle and very soothing. “Don’t stop,” Lisa said. “I like that. Can you kiss my booboos?”

Sam grinned, she did indeed like it. “It would be my honor,” and he leaned into his assignment. “God this is sexy,” he thought to himself. “What a beautiful and sexy ass.” The urge to squeeze her firm flesh gripped his thoughts. So throwing caution to the wind he gently squeezed her ass as he simultaneously kissed her injuries. Lisa said nothing so he squeezed a little harder.

Lisa wiggled her ass and pushed it up at him. “Do you have designs on my ass?”

Sam began laughing. Lisa didn’t realize the pun she had made until Sam replied, “I think I’ve already got my design in you.” Lisa laughed until she hiccupped.

When she had recovered she asked in earnest, “Do I need any antiseptic?”

“No. I made some indecent indents and you’re going to have some horrible black and blue spots, but I didn’t draw blood.”

“Good, then I want something. On your back my little filly. I want that prick of yours pointing the way to heaven,” she ordered.

“Yeah ma’am,” and Sam obeyed. Lisa crawled across the bed and over to the night table, She picked up a condom that they had left there. She sat down and crossed her legs, placed the foil between her mouth and with extreme over-acting, she ripped it open with her teeth. Sam laughed.

“You realize that when we make love you have to do whatever I tell you to do. Those are the rules, right?”

“Yep.”

“No yep. You respond with a proper “yes ma’am”.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sam snickered.

“Up the flag pole,” Lisa squealed as she rolled the condom over Sam’s stiff prick. “Now turn 90 degrees.”

“Huh?”

“No!” she said it sharply but then smiled as if she were ready to giggle. “Yes ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy! Lie across the bed with your head and shoulders off the side.”

“Ahhh, I guess you know what you are doing. Yes ma’am.”

“Of course I know what I’m doing. While you and Maggie were driving all over the country, I was looking up sex positions.”

“Really?”

“By now you should know something Samantha.” In a deep and very serious voice she said, “I never joke about sex.”

Sam began laughing and she slapped his thigh. “Move. Get into position.” Sam followed his directions. Lisa threw a leg over Sam and straddled him in a kneeling position. She was sitting with her legs under her and facing Sam’s head. She rose up and squatted down over his cock and took it into her. She squeezed her thighs and wiggled her pelvis. “Like?”

“Like.”

“No! You say “Yes ma’am”!”

“Yes ma’am, me like.”

“Slide forward just a bit more and lean over the side of the bed. Backwards.”

“Can I do that?” he asked seriously.

“Yes ma’am,” Lisa answered for him. Sam leaned back and he could feel the strain in his abdominal muscles. But even more importantly he could feel himself inside Lisa. He felt wonderful. Lisa rubbed his stomach and said, “Holy cow, Samantha. You’ve got some awesome abs here. You have a six pack here.”

Sam smiled at the compliment. “Yes ma’am.”

Lisa playfully slapped those abs and said, “Arrogant little filly.” She rubbed his stomach muscles and then began rocking up and down on Sam’s cock. Up and down, forward and backwards, and squeeze. She squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. As Lisa stroked Sam’s cock, Sam melted and rolled back further over the edge of the bed, the blood rushing to his head was giving him a weird feeling. Sam felt giddy and silly and … oh wow. Sam erupted aggressively into Lisa, bucking as much as he could in his impossible position.

Lisa kept him pinned to the bed as she leaned backward and made sure that Sam was stimulating her clit to the ultimate … exquisite … tensing … “Aiiiiiiiiigggggghhhhh.”
She threw her head back, leaned back to put even more pressure on her clit by rubbing against Sam’s cock, and she humped her brains out. On the other end of that connection Sam was having the best orgasm of his life. His head was swirling and feeling dizzy and he had never … never! … cum so hard or so tenaciously in his life. The pleasure was driving him crazy and he wanted to stop it, it was literally hurting him. The pleasure in the tip of his cock was so intense it actually felt painful.

But Lisa was having none of that. She was in control and she humped and humped against Sam’s ultra-sensitive member and she drove him crazy to the point he finally began begging for her to stop. “Please, please, stop for a minute, please hold,” he said as he reached for her hips.

But Lisa was out of control and she was not about to stop until she was sated. It took only a few more squeezes and humps and bumps and thrusts, but Sam was almost in agony. The pleasure centers in his cock were overloaded and he couldn’t believe how intense the sensations were. With his head already dizzy, he felt like he might pass out. “Please Lisa I can’t take it anymore. PLEASE?”

Lisa had reached the end of her orgasm, luckily for Sam. She had reached her end and she tipped forward, taking all of that pressure and intense stimulation off Sam’s cock. Sam felt a relief, and a calming tsunami wash over him. What a rush, what an intense sensation, what a ride! “Oh god,” he whispered softly.

“Lisa was breathing hard but she had to ask, “You like?”

“Yes ma’am. I have never experienced anything like that in my entire life.”

With a smirk Lisa replied, “I guess the Internet is useful after all. I think I found us a good position.”

“Yes ma’am. And no shit!”

Lisa and Sam laughed. Lisa grabbed Sam’s hands and helped pull him back up on the bed.
They embraced with Lisa still holding Sam inside her. They kissed and deliberately smeared their lipstick over each other’s faces, then laughed at their mischief. After several additional minutes, Lisa dismounted Sam and hand in hand she led him to the powder room.

The two inamoratas cleaned off their makeup and moisturized their faces. Lisa massaged moisturizer into Sam’s torso and helped him with his liner and corset, lacing it tightly to its minimum girth. Then she set Sam in front of a vanity and took down his hair. She removed his pretty hair sticks, and plucked out the dozens of pins holding his soft barrel curls. She even brushed out his hair, being careful to not pull on his extensions.

Even without makeup Sam looked feminine and pretty in his negligee. He had nice curves, pretty hair and his demeanor (both physically and psychologically) were effeminate if not actually feminine. He was developing nicely. Lisa was very happy for both herself, and her girly courtesan. Yes, life was good for the boy and girls; Lisa, Sam and Samantha.

CHAPTER 37

Lisa and Sam rolled around in their cozy bed until after 9 o’clock. Sam crawled out first, stripped off his girly raiment and quickly ripped off his daily allotment of 100 sit ups. Then he left for the bathroom to handle his morning routine. Lisa walked over to the balcony and looked outside.

“A beautiful sunny day,” she announced to the empty room. “I guess this is the perfect day to get engaged,” she said with a frown. Lisa was not happy. She was going to lie to her best friend.

The two of them dressed and had a light breakfast. Lisa wore the clothes that Sam had brought for her. Her cotton dress was a simple white dress with a nice flair around the hem, a straight neckline, and straps instead of sleeves. She added the pearls that Sam had packed and she was ready for her day. They sat on the balcony and looked over the harbor as they nibbled their bagels. Lisa looked at Sam’s hand and noticed that he was wearing his decoy ring. “Can I look at your ring, Samantha?”

“Sure,” and he handed it to Lisa.

Lisa slipped it on her ring finger and admired the ring. “Can I be engaged today?” she asked.

Sam shrugged his shoulders and said, “Yeah. I don’t think I will need it.”

“Cool,” she answered with another frown.

A little after ten o’clock, hand in hand they walked down to the docks. “We want slip 151,” Sam said as he looked at the “you are here” map. As they walked towards the slip, Sam spotted the ship long before they got there. He couldn’t have missed it if he tried. It was the biggest ship in the harbor — it was gorgeous. As they walked closer Sam could see people walking all over the ship. A bit closer and he could see that they were all wearing dresses. “It looks like Miss Eunice has invited some other people,” Sam volunteered.

Lisa said nothing. She knew how many people were going to be there. Almost the entire Hawthorne family was going to be there. And so was Jeff Winter. When they reached the gangplank a young woman with a child holding each hand greeted them. “Hi Lisa! Welcome aboard.”

Lisa returned the salutation and introduced Sam, “Rebecca this is Samantha. Rebecca is … nanny for my cousin Pamela.” Lisa almost said wife instead of nanny.

Rebecca released the children and gave Sam a hug with air kisses, which of course surprised him. He didn’t expect such a greeting from a “nanny”. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Samantha. I have heard so much about you, and I must say you are as beautiful as advertised. These two beautiful girls here are Cheryl and Christeen.” Both girls instinctively dove behind their mother and grabbed her skirt for protection.

Rebecca was actually Pamela’s female concubine and the “girls” — one born female and the other born male — were actually Rebecca’s children. But this day of all days, the masquerade had to be perpetuated. Sam was going to be meeting the complete Hawthorne family and he was still not going to meet any “men”. How strange for Sam, and how strange that he would continue to miss the importance of such a salient fact. Maybe Sam was subconsciously overlooking something … deliberately?

Lisa took Sam’s hand and led him towards the salon at the stern of the ship. On the way they met numerous people and made numerous introductions. Sam was especially pleased to see Gisela. She looked like an angel in her periwinkle dress, and beige sandals. She also had two jeune filles in tow, both dressed nicely in pink, frilly dresses. “Samantha, it is so nice to see you again,” Gisela said in her husky voice. They exchanged air kisses and hugs. “Let me introduce the girls; Bettina and Patricia I would like to present Samantha. Samantha is Lisa’s very best friend.” The two boys dressed in their Sunday finery complete with petticoats and Mary Jane shoes curtsied and said “Hello, Miss Samantha.” How cute. Even Sam smiled.

Sam was most surprised to meet Constance, Lisa’s roommate. “I didn’t know you two were related,” Sam said.

“Yeah, we’re cousins. Constance’s mother is my aunt Serena.”

In the rear salon they met up with their hostesses. Miss Grace and Miss Eunice gave Sam their greetings, and then Mona and Maggie joined the group. Mona called over her three sisters and reintroduced everyone to Sam. They had all met at work, but Mona realized that names did not always stick in one’s mind. Michelle, Joyce and Serena greeted Lisa and welcomed Sam.

And not least, Jeff greeted Sam. “Samantha, what a pleasure to see you again. Have you been well?”

“Great. And thank you again for your hospitality in New York. I really appreciated everything.”

“Well, you are more than welcome Samantha. Please come back soon.”

“I think we will be coming back soon. Lisa wants to go shopping before we go to Paris. Right?” he asked Lisa.

“Right. I’ll be visiting you often,” she said with a wink … and another frown.

“Now that everyone is here, let’s cast off.” Miss Eunice announced. “Samantha, would you like to join me on the bridge?”

“Sure!”

Miss Eunice took Sam’s hand and laid his hand on her wrist. “We can go up to the bridge and watch the operation.” Miss Eunice took Sam to the bridge and he watched her coordinate their departure. Her crew was all female — no surprise there. She had a girl at the bow throw off the ropes and Miss Eunice used the stern ropes and the reverse thrust to pull the bow away from the dock. Another girl threw off the stern ropes, and Miss Eunice pushed the propellers into forward and pulled away from the dock.

She piloted the ship into the main channel and followed the buoys out into deeper water. Samantha was impressed with Miss Eunice’s skill. “Practice and a superb crew,” she told Samantha. Miss Eunice turned the bridge over to her beautiful first mate and took a seat in a directors chair behind the wheel. Samantha sat next to her as she began pointing out details of the ship and some landmarks as they passed out of the small bay and into the Chesapeake.

About fifteen minutes into the ride, another beautiful girl came by with a tray of glasses and drinks. In fact, every female crew member that Sam met was another beautiful girl with that “salon” skin. The crew girls reminded him of the salon girls. Everyone was thin, buxom, had perfect skin, large collagen enhanced lips, perky little noses, and long curly hair. “Where do they find these girls?” Sam wondered.

“Care for anything?” Miss Eunice asked.

“Sure,” and Sam took a diet coke off the tray. A little while later some warm Maryland crab cakes were delivered. “Wow, these are good,” Sam complimented his hostess.

“Would you like to see the ship?” Miss Eunice asked.

“Yes please,” Sam answered. Miss Eunice again took Sam’s hand and they left the bridge for a long and detailed tour of the ship. Miss Eunice’s job was to keep Sam busy for an hour or more while the rest of the family gathered in the rear salon.

Jeff was on one knee in front of Lisa and offering Sam’s ring to Lisa. “Lisa, would you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“Of course,” she squealed as she clasped the ring in both hands and bounced on the balls of her feet. Jeff stood and Lisa literally jumped into his arms and gave him a kiss. Maggie’s camera clicked in auto shutter mode, while Janice video taped the ceremony on her new high definition camera.

With the cameras running, Jeff and Lisa received the entire family, hugging, kissing and crying. After the reception, everyone was seated around a huge teak table and champagne was served. The crowd toasted the newly engaged couple, called for additional kisses and watched and applauded as the children delivered small gifts and tokens. Jeff magically produced a red rose out of thin air and presented it to Lisa. They kissed again and were toasted again. It was a sweet and sentimental ceremony; and it was over in just a bit over one hour. And every little bit was photographed.

The group broke up and began filtering out of the salon and wandering around the ship. Mothers, wives, nannies and concubines kept a close eye on the children. Most of the little girls were put into large orange life vests before they were allowed out of the salon. Lisa gave her fiancée one last intimate kiss for the cameras, then excused herself and went to a stateroom. She locked the door before collapsing on the bed and crying her eyes out.

Thirty minutes later, Lisa washed her face, applied a bit of lipstick and returned to the salon, wearing her bravest face. Samantha was chatting with Miss Grace and Miss Eunice. “Hi, Lisa. Are you feeling better? Miss Grace said you had a bit of sea sickness.”

Lisa gave her lover a weak smile and said, “I’m much better now, thank you.”

“Would you like something to drink? They have champagne,” Sam asked cheerily..

Tears welled up in Lisa’s eyes and she merely shook her head no. She turned away and walked out to get some fresh air. Sam stood to join her but Miss Grace grabbed Sam’s hand. “Give her a few moments, Samantha. She is looking green around the gills and I think she would like to be alone. Just in case … .”

“Just in case she has to vomit,” Sam thought. Sam nodded his understanding. But like so many other things that Sam thought he understood, he was wrong. It was in case she started crying again.

Sam spent much of the ride sitting on the bridge watching the scenery. The bridge was enclosed and up high, so it was comfortable. Little snacks came by about every half hour. In the early afternoon the first mate turned the ship towards shore. She followed buoys through a channel and into a calm bay with a small harbor and a nice looking restaurant built over the water.

The ship was tied to the outer most dock, the gangplank was lowered, and guests began leaving the ship. Lisa walked up to the pilot house to retrieve Sam. “Where are we going?” Sam asked.

“The restaurant. We’re going to have lunch,” Lisa answered. Then for no reason at all she grabbed Sam and hugged him tightly. Sam reflexively returned the hug. Before she released him Lisa whispered, “I love you Samantha. No matter what else happens I really, truly love you.” Then she took his hand and pulled him along.

Upon reaching the restaurant, they were ushered into a large banquet room. Long tables were lined up in a large square with the corners left open for waiters to squeeze through. Lisa found Jeff and sat down next to him. Sam sat on Lisa’s left side and next to him was Miss Grace. Straight across from Lisa were Maggie and Janice, both continuously taking pictures of Lisa. Lisa would lean into Sam and give him a hug or kiss or toast together.

Sam thought that he and Lisa were the center of attention. But Lisa spent just as much time toasting with Jeff, making sure to show off the engagement ring on her left hand. Sam never discovered that Lisa and Jeff were not only the center of attention, but they were celebrating their engagement. With all the merriment and chatter around the table, no one ever said the words engagement or fiancé. The group had been well briefed and they were very disciplined. The Hawthorne family knew what they were doing at all times.

After a sumptuous seafood meal, the clan moved back to the ship and pushed off once more. They cruised around for the better part of the afternoon, had tea precisely at 4 o’clock, and returned back to their home slip after 5 o’clock. Sam, Lisa and Jeff stood at the bottom of the gangplank and exchanged hugs and air kisses with everyone. Even some of the children went through the line. During the entire time, Maggie stood on the stern of the ship and took pictures of the three. Sam would be cropped out later.

Twenty years in the future when Lisa would run for the Presidency of the United States of America, these pictures would be useful if anyone wanted to question her past. By the time of the campaign, Lisa would have 3 or 4 children and she would be divorced from her husband Jeff Winters. She would be seen everywhere with her executive secretary by her side. Stupid political tricks by the competition might want to insinuate something about Lisa and Samantha. These digital pictures would be well preserved along with their metadata which would prove their dates. The day after Lisa and Sam would leave for Paris, the engagement would be announced in the papers, providing public documentation of the engagement.

During campaigns all sorts of dirt, innuendo, rumors and lies would be thrown out. Miss Mona had laid out numerous scenarios, plans, contingency plans, and back-ups to back-ups in anticipation of Lisa’s political career. The Hawthorne matriarchy secret would be well concealed, but anything could happen in the heat of the battle. For example, an old college chum named Bill might surface with damaging information. If anything unplanned did surface, Mona would have legitimate and dated documents to deflect the accusations.

But as much as Miss Mona planned for the future, including these photos, these photos would never be needed. One person in particular would see to it that they were never needed. Lisa’s campaign manager would be too clever for everyone … including the opposition.

Lisa held Sam’s hand and led him back to the condo where they packed up their luggage and loaded the car. “Can’t we stay one more night?” Sam pleaded. Unspoken was the reason; sex. But Lisa was not in the mood. She had just endured a horrible day.

Even Jeff had seen through her, and he had offered his condolences. Jeff knew the full situation. This had been planned for a couple of years. His engagement to Lisa opened doors of immeasurable potential for him in the professional world. In addition it gave him cover for his true sexual persuasion. And even better, there was one document sitting in Miss Mona’s safe that guaranteed Jeff would receive 5 million dollars for each year of marriage. His responsibilities for attending birthdays, holidays and one vacation a year were also clearly laid out in the document. Jeff happily agreed to everything. In five or six years they would be legally divorced, Lisa would have her cover for children and Jeff would be comfortable for the rest of his life. Jeff would make sure that nothing went wrong from his side of the agreement. He was a true family friend.

Lisa said very little on the drive home. She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep most of the way. Every once in a while she wiped away her tears. At home they ate a late snack and went to bed early; to study she said. But in the middle of the night she slipped into Sam’s room and crawled into his bed, cuddled against his back and hugged him until the sun rose.

Lisa wasn’t much more animated on Sunday. They went riding in the morning and then Lisa left early for her return to school. She would be returning back to Sam on Friday afternoon. She lied to Sam and told him she would finish her last exam on Friday morning. She was actually scheduled to finish on Wednesday, when she would fly to New York City and spend Wednesday and Thursday evening with Jeff. They would announce their engagement to all of Jeff’s friends and family, before she would return to her effeminate and oh so pretty inamorato on Friday. The one she truly loved. She would spend the weekend at home with Sam before taking him back to New York City for shopping the following week. They would dine with Jeff in the evenings and Lisa would pretend to be in love with Jeff — when Sam wasn’t looking.

Sam also had his final exams scheduled for the coming week. “When are they?” Miss Mona asked on Sunday night. Sam ran down the schedules for his 5 finals that week. “Monday morning is going to be full,” Miss Mona said. “After your finals on Monday, I’ll have Chas run you into town so you can visit the salon. I have you scheduled for a full body wax, including your arms, and you will need to get a Brazilian wax. You can also have a paraffin wax on your hands to keep them soft, and the girls can check your face and chest for any necessary laser treatments. How does that sound, Samantha?”

“Why do I need to do all that? Isn’t that an awful lot? I mean, at times it seems as if I live at the salon.”

Miss Mona laughed and asked, “What’s wrong with that Samantha? The salon should be a girl’s favorite refuge.” Then she got serious, “Miss Eunice would like you to do a photo shoot on Thursday. Is that ok with you?”

Sam’s eyes lit up; money! “Sure. What does she want me to model?”

“Swimsuits.”

“Swimsuits? Can I do that? I mean won’t it be obvious that I’m a … you know … I have a …”

“You have a what?” Miss Mona asked innocently.

With a gulp and red face Sam said, “You know, penis.”

Miss Mona laughed. “Don’t worry, Samantha, these are professionals. They will know exactly how to position you and shoot you to minimize that little problem.” She used the word little on purpose. “Most of your suits are going to be swim dresses. They have little skirts that cover your predicament. Plus they have another trick or two up their sleeve. It will work out fine.

“So we have to get you nice and pretty for your shoot. That’s the reason for your waxing on Monday. And that is also the reason that you will have your arms waxed as well. Wednesday afternoon you will have to go back for a wash and set. They want your hair hanging straight for the swimsuits, so you will need to spend the night in curlers to take out your curly perm. And of course you can have another paraffin wax for your hands when you’re at the salon on Wednesday also. It is very important to have soft hands, Samantha.

“Will that work with your exam schedule?”

“Yes, Miss Mona.”

“Good. On Thursday you can ride in with me and get an early start on your day. I trust the usual financial agreement will be acceptable to you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And on Friday you can return to the salon and get made up for Lisa’s return in the afternoon. I know Lisa loves to have you all pretty and feminine for her arrival.”

“Feminine?” he blurted out. Sam couldn’t help himself. He was a boy. Why did they have to insist on him dressing and acting and pretending he was a girl? And if he had to constantly dress up and pretend to be a girl, at least he didn’t have to be feminine. Hell no! Damn it! This was going too far.

Miss Mona stared Sam in the eye and in her menacing tone of voice asked, “Yes Samantha, feminine. Or effeminate if you prefer, but feminine has a much nicer connotation, don’t you agree? Lisa loves to see you all made up and wearing your prettiest dresses. We all do. Don’t you?” It was a clear challenge to Sam’s autonomy, psychological independence and his masculinity. And she used that tone of voice that made Sam wish he had never challenged her. He was going to regret it; he just knew it.

But now it was a matter of saving face. He had brought it up so he had to finish it. He wasn’t feminine! In a conciliatory tone Sam began, “Miss Mona I dress this way because it pleases Lisa, not because I want to be feminine.” Bad start, he thought. He hadn’t really expressed his situation accurately. He was dressing this way because they had tricked him into it. It started with a small favor and then just kept building until it was expected of him on a daily basis. And then it grew into more salons and beauty treatments and lasers and … shit!

It didn’t matter, he was going to lose anyway.

“Samantha, who dressed you this morning?”

“I did but …”

“You did? And who picked out your clothes?”

“Well technically I did, but …”

“And why did you pick out that specific dress that you are wearing now?”

Sam was losing fast. But he didn’t have the power of will to switch the way the conversation was going. He felt trapped and ended up answering her question. “That was so I would look nice.”

“Don’t you want to look nice for Lisa anymore? I know she tries to look nice for you. Aren’t you interested in making her happy? Don’t you like her?”

Shit! He should have just shut up and accepted his loss on this. But now he was sucked in and he had to answer. He couldn’t just say “never mind” to Miss Mona. No, that wouldn’t work. “Of course I want to make her happy.”

“Then you do like Lisa?”

“Of course I do.”

“The two of you have been playing dress up for two months now. You voluntarily went to school dressed as a girl. You voluntarily went skiing as a girl. You modeled wedding dresses and you went clubbing in New York City as a girl. Last week you did a salon shoot as a girl. You got a makeover and wet set, then spent the weekend with my daughter. I would bet that you even wore a negligee when you were in bed with my daughter. Did you?”

“Did I what?” He was stalling.

“Did you sleep with my daughter while wearing a negligee?”

“Oh shit,” he thought. “This was definitely a mistake.” Sam said nothing in response to Miss Mona.

Miss Mona looked at Sam and continued, “Samantha, I … we, we all thought that you were enjoying your time here with us. We thought you liked Lisa and enjoyed looking pretty and sexy. In fact didn’t I have to ask you tone down that sexy strut of yours before we went out with clients?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Maggie has tons of pictures of you posing and looking sexy. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy wearing Miss Grace’s million dollar earrings. I could see it in your face Samantha.”

Sam nodded as he looked at the floor. Miss Mona knew she had defeated him. It was now time to save him.

Mona’s tone of voice changed 180 degrees. She became very soft and conciliatory with Sam. “Samantha, is something wrong then? We all love you as Samantha. And I’m sure that I don’t have to tell you how much Lisa likes you. Samantha, please don’t take this the wrong way, but before you came along Lisa promised me … she promised me that she would save herself for marriage. I know the two of you have had sex together, and you know what Samantha?”

She paused and Sam was about ready to wet his panties. He looked in her eyes and saw something he rarely saw in Miss Mona; empathy.

“Samantha, I don’t mind that Lisa has broken her vow to me. In fact, I’m glad she did, because I have never seen her happier. What you two do between the sheets is your business. Lisa is a big girl now and so are you. But I beg you to be careful.”

Mona paused and allowed Sam an opportunity to promise her he would be careful, and by way of apology accept her compliment that he was a “big girl”. Damn she could manipulate people!

“So is something else wrong, Samantha dear? I’m worried for you dear. Ever since that first dinner party I have marveled at how well you have adjusted and grown into those clothes. And I have watched you closely for two months since then. I know and understand what you are doing and how you are transforming into a beautiful girl. And I can only imagine what doubts go through your mind. And I suspect that the middle of the night brings the biggest doubts and fears.

“It’s something that every adult in the world knows about. When you are with friends that support you things always go better than when you are alone. It’s when you’re alone that those nagging doubts creep in. The time that Lisa is away is probably very difficult for you Samantha. But I want to tell you Samantha, in no uncertain terms, we all love you … you Samantha. Please don’t think anyone here judges you because you are wearing dresses and lipstick. We are all thrilled that you made this decision.”

“I made this decision?” he thought to himself. “I’m not the one that made this decision, you did!” But he said nothing.

“We talk about your transformation all the time and we marvel at how well you do. We are all very proud of you and happy for you, Samantha. And we are all rooting for you to continue and become even more feminine and pretty and successful. We know that Lisa wants this and we of course want our Lisa to be happy. But we all love you and we want you to be happy also. The entire family is pulling for you … Samantha.

“Samantha is that what is bothering you? Are you concerned about what other people think? Or are you worried that you can’t do this?”

Boy, she had turned him around. Damn it, he was a boy and he was not a girl and he was not … not supposed to be feminine. But they … loved him? They were rooting for him to
be even more girly? Feminine? Successful? Sam didn’t know what in the world to say.

He paused and Mona stepped back in. “Let’s take this one step at a time, Samantha. Do you still want to go to the salon tomorrow?”

“Yes,” he answered meekly.

“Good, honey. I’m sure you just had one of those doubting moments. By Friday you will be aching to get all dolled up for the return of your Lisa. And trust me; she will love to see you looking as feminine as you can possibly look. Trust me dear, you can do this. You should never doubt yourself again.”

“You lose Sam … Samantha,” he thought. Miss Mona was thinking exactly the same thing as she gave him a satisfied smile.

“Don’t forget to remove your breast forms tonight, Samantha,” Mona said as Sam slumped off to bed.

CHAPTER 38

Monday morning he went on line and took two final exams. Because he was on line, the professor had made the test a little more difficult and presented it as an open book test. Sam never opened his text books. With all of the study time he had been given lately, he had more than covered every topic in his reviews and studies. Sam had no trouble ace-ing the tests.

At noon he went down to the kitchen in his maid uniform and made a chicken salad for lunch. Poor Sam was becoming resigned to eating salads all the time. Not that he particularly cared for salads. He could tolerate them, but he ached for real food. Bacon and fries and a greasy burger would have been a godsend. But for some reason god never sent that burger to Sam. Sam checked his weight on a daily basis. He was proud of what he had accomplished, but he really wondered if dropping fifteen pounds on his frame was a good idea. He was getting as thin as those girls at the salon. He’d probably dropped a dress size or two. Harriet’s dresses, and even his, felt a little big. And damn it! He knew the dresses were getting too big for him! Why in hell should a boy even be able to tell such a weird thing?

Sam finished his lunch and then changed into his salon clothes. He didn’t feel like wearing a pretty, frilly dress, so he opted for a short skirt and a sleeveless top with a deep neckline. And he didn’t feel like pretty pink and feminine niceties, so he picked out black. But in spite of his sour mood, he did add big gold, hoop earrings. He liked the feel of them dangling against his skin. He didn’t do it because he thought they were feminine or something. He just liked the weight and feel — period.

At one o’clock Chas helped the epicene boy into the back of the limo and set off for town. For one hour he rode in the back of that car thinking about his situation. Ok, forget about his appearance for a moment. Sam was surrounded with money, power and privilege. He had a legitimate, real chauffeur driving him in a real Rolls Royce Phantom Silver limousine into the nation’s capital. The windows were tinted, there was a refrigerator filled with water and wine, a full power stereo system was hooked up to an HD television with a blu-ray DVD player and tivo. The chauffeur was wearing an honest to goodness uniform.

He was being driven into Washington D.C. to a twenty story building that the family owned. On the first floor was a salon that catered shamelessly to him. Sam was not a girl — hell no! But they catered to him as if he was the most beautiful and most important girl in the world. And … and let’s be honest, Sam enjoyed it. He enjoyed the smells and aromas and the girls and the chit chat and the pampering and attention and their slavish devotion to his every whim and wish. The salon was full of beautiful girls that were compelled to turn Sam into the adorable and beautiful Samantha; a girl with the looks, charm, and sex appeal of a countess. Or a courtesan! Sam laughed to himself. This was a lifestyle that he could enjoy and thrive within.

But he wasn’t a girl. Hell no! Heaven forbid if he considered himself a girl. But … in the inner recesses of Sam’s psyche, he was losing that battle. Samantha and her soft fragrances and silky clothes and curly hair and that delicious lipstick and of course her wonderful, jiggling, bouncing breast forms was winning the battle for Sam’s identity and future. In the dark of the night when he was scared to death of what he was becoming he eventually, always, ended up being seduced by the feminine delights with which he was becoming accustomed. He hugged his breasts, caressed his silky nightgown and twirled one of his curly locks, and the nightmares and doubts steadily receded in his mind. Samantha was winning … and Sam had never been happier in his life.

And the more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that a boy could dress as a girl but still be a boy. The clothes were just external affectations. Looking and acting feminine had no bearing on his ability to service and please a beautiful girl like Lisa. And he did that with some femininity — soft and slow — but also mostly with his masculine attributes. Yeah, that was ok with Sam … and Samantha.

Chas parked in front of the building and quickly came around to open Sam’s door. Chas offered his hand to Sam and he gladly took it. Two months ago there was no way a man would have to help him out of a car. But now everything was different. Chas wasn’t exactly helping Sam out of the car. Chas was showing great deference and respect to Sam. Sam liked the respect that was shown to him. He liked his new social status and if it came with a dress … well he would make that dress look pretty.

Sam thanked Chas and then strutted into the building and the salon. Yes, Sam strutted. He had been told to tune down the volume on his sexy self image, but Miss Mona wasn’t around just now. So flaunt it if you got it! If he was going to be pampered as a girl all afternoon, then by golly he was going to be a sexy girl.

“Miss Samantha! Welcome back,” Florence said as Sam strutted up to the desk. With a wink and a giggle Florence said, “That’s quite the wiggle you have there; practicing for something? Or someone?” and she giggled again.

“Ok Sam, tone it down,” he said to himself. “Don’t get stupid.”

“Sorry,” Sam said. “Sometimes it goes to my head. “

“No need to apologize. Once in a while we all like to do it. Susan is on vacation today so if you want a makeover Olivia will be filling in for her. But first Greta has you scheduled for a manicure and pedicure, followed by a paraffin wax and then a full body wax featuring a Brazilian. And finally, if necessary, Bridgette can do any laser touch up work. Sound ok?”

“It sounds heavenly,” Sam gushed. Yes, he gushed. Sam truly enjoyed his trips to the salon. He could relax, be pampered and forget about being a boy. This was one place where denying his femininity just would not work. After Sam’s discussion with Miss Mona the evening before, he was forced to reconsider his situation … and his attitudes. Yes, Sam was a boy. He was a male. And he was NOT effeminate. He was not an effeminate male or a sissy. But he did crossdress. He couldn’t deny that. And when he cross dressed he was very good at it. He was very convincing and pretty and … feminine. There, he admitted it. Samantha was feminine, but Sam was NOT effeminate. Period.

“Right this way,” Greta said. “Coffee, tea or me? I mean diet coke?” Greta giggled and flashed Sam a silly grin.

“Diet coke.”

“Diet coke it is. But if you change your mind later, me is still here.” Greta giggled again as she said it, but there was an underlying seriousness to her tone.

“Is she really offering herself to me?” Sam asked himself. “Don’t be silly you … you silly filly.” And with that thought Sam grinned also.

Greta started with Sam’s manicure while his toes dangled in a tub of warm water. “Your nails are getting very fashionable Miss Samantha. We are at the point where we can do a couple of things. I can square them off and give you a French manicure, or we can go with the traditional rounded tips. Which would you prefer?”

“I think Lisa would prefer the rounded tips. That way I can wear different nail colors too.”

“Right you are Miss Samantha.” Greta began the manicure and the girls talked about makeup and shoes and television and music and even the weather. What they did not talk about were boys. But then why should they? Greta knew Sam was a boy, and Sam wasn’t going to be interested in boys. Greta prepped Sam’s nails and let him pick out a nice red color with glitter in it. Sam always liked a little glitter in his polish.

With his nails freshly filed and buffed and painted, Greta rolled up a cart with a pot of warm paraffin wax. The wax was infused with emollients, aloe and a bit of chamomile, so it smelled splendid. It was just one more of those special scents that made the salon such a special place for Sam.

Greta took Sam’s hand and dipped it in the pot and allowed the wax to harden on his hand. She dipped his other hand and allowed it to semi-harden also. Then the first hand went back in for a second coat, followed by the second hand. Next came large oversize plastic gloves which she slid over Sam’s hands, and last she slipped large heated mittens over Sam’s hands.

“Ok, just let those pretty hands of yours soften in those mittens, while I take care of your pretty toes. And they are pretty, Miss Samantha,” Greta said with a big smile.

“Is she flirting?” Sam wondered.

They talked some more about Sam’s exams and the end of the school year. Greta asked him about Paris and tripped him up on several questions. It dawned on Sam that he had done no research on Paris. He knew a few tourist spots like the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre Museum and the Arc de Triomphe, but Sam was woefully unprepared to spend 3 weeks in the city. He would have to start doing his research that evening.

When she had finished Sam’s feet, Greta removed his mittens and cleaned up his hands. “Let’s go back to the waxing room,” she said. Once inside the room Greta told Sam, “Please remove all your clothing and put on the large robe. Do you have a preference on where we start? Top or bottom?”

“Whatever is easiest for you,” Sam answered.

“Then top it is. I’ll let you undress then. Just knock on the door when you are ready.”

Sam left on his panties, just so he wouldn’t flop around and embarrass himself. When Sam was ready he knocked on the door, and Greta returned. “Take you arms out of the robe please and you can let it drop around your waist. Then just lie on the bed. Before we start, I’d like to inspect your chest and face. Let’s see if we need to have Olivia prep the laser room.” Greta looked very closely at Sam’s face and chest and carefully ran her hand over several spots. She seemed to make it a point to rub her hands over his nipples a couple of times. Sam noticed that she had very soft hands and a very soft touch. And he also felt a little electric shudder each time Greta touched his nipples.

“You have very soft hands,” Sam said to Greta.

“Thank you,” she replied to Sam’s compliment. “You know, we also give massages here. You should consider it some time. It is very relaxing.”

“I’ll think about it, thank you.”

“And we have a sauna and a steam room on the premises. We can combine those with a massage before or after. Some of the girls use the Sauna to drop a few pounds before a modeling gig. We have lots of combinations, Miss Samantha. If you’re interested just let us know.”

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Now, it seems as if your face and chest are clean as a whistle. When we finish would you like Olivia to give you a makeover?”

“I guess not,” Sam said reluctantly. “I don’t have anything going on tonight, so it would just go to waste.”

“So? Every makeover is an opportunity to learn something. In fact, this would be the perfect time to ask Olivia to try something new. If you don’t like it, no problem.”

“True,” Sam mused.

“Is there anything that you’ve been interested in trying? Something a bit more adventurous?”

“I’m not sure,” Sam conceded.

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t I get you a couple of magazines and when I’m doing your legs, you can look through them for an idea. How does that sound?”

“Sure.”

“And may I make one more suggestion?”

“Yeah, please.”

“I see you had your lashes removed. You might want to consider getting new ones. Especially since you’re going to Paris; you should consider glamming up.”

“That’s a great idea. Yeah, please let Olivia know that I would like to get new lashes.”

“Absolutely. If you’ll hang for a mo, I’ll tell her and get you some makeup books.” Sam laid down and waited just a few moments for Greta to return. She tossed 4 or 5 books on a table and said, “After I finish your arms and pits, you can read those.”

Greta prepared to apply wax to Sam’s arm, but just once more she ran her fingers gently over Sam’s nipple. “Miss Samantha, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you are small on top.” Sam knew immediately what she was referring to, and he wasn’t sure that he felt comfortable talking about it. “Have you considered taking steps to enlarge or enhance your breasts?”

Two months ago Sam would have put this topic to a quick end, but today was just a little bit different. He wanted to see if he could nonchalantly pick up more information. As Greta spread her warm wax on Sam’s arm he asked, “What do you mean by enlarge?”

“Hormone therapy; estrogen and progesterone. With some boys if they’re started early enough hormones can have dramatic affects. I’ve heard of some boys going all the way to a large B cup with just hormones. And then with implants you can go as big as you want. Have you ever thought about it?”

“No, I haven’t,” he said bluntly.

Maybe because she was busy but for some reason Greta didn’t pick up Sam’s tone. “You should. Its amazing how much better you feel about yourself with larger breasts. If there is one thing that defines a girl it’s her boobs. You know how everyone always says that beauty is only skin deep and personality is more important? Well the truth is cleavage gets more boys than a great personality.”

Sam was feeling uncomfortable again. In his mind he was constantly fighting his fear of feminization. He didn’t need to be reminded of it when he was in a salon being … feminized. He wanted to yell at her and tell her to stop. But he couldn’t do that. He liked being here and he liked Greta. He said something stupid and cruel once before when he was here and he almost lost Florence’s friendship. “Tone it down,” he told himself.

“I’m not trying to catch boys,” he finally said. “Good wording,” he congratulated himself.

Again, Greta didn’t pick up the coolness in his voice. “Oh, I know,” she laughed. “You have a better target in your sights. But I think Miss Lisa prefers big breasted boys. I think she would love to see you with a pair of B’s popping out of a push up bra; especially in a low cut dress. I know I would.”

Sam was confused. Did everyone in this world want him turned into a girl? “Huh? Why?”

Greta paused and looked Sam in the eyes. “Because you’re hot Miss Samantha. I’d love to have you.” Then she averted her eyes and Sam could see her face blushing hot. “I’m sorry. That was very forward and very unprofessional. Please don’t tell anyone I said that Miss Samantha. I was totally out of line.” She walked over to the counter to collect her thoughts.

Sam needed a few minutes to collect his thoughts also. “I’m hot to girls when I pretend to be a girl? Why? What am I missing here? Do all girls think this way? They want boobs on a guy? This doesn’t make any sense. What the hell ever happened to James Dean and Humphrey Bogart?” Hundreds of questions ran through his mind. He wanted to ask Greta all kinds of questions but he didn’t know what to ask. He didn’t know if he should ask her anything. She already seemed ashamed of brining up the subject. Sam was at a loss.

Greta looked away from Sam and smiled. “That was good if I say so myself. I hope Miss Maggie heard everything. I hope I have my cell turned to full volume. Now I wonder if he’ll say something or let it drop?” Greta patted herself on the back for a few more minutes and then returned to Sam.

Greta walked back and pulled a chunk of hair off Sam’s arm. She worked in silence as she spread another glob of warm wax over Sam’s lower arm, pressed a cloth against the wax then yanked it, pulling another swath of hair off Sam’s arm. She went through several more cycles before Sam spoke.

“Greta, I’m glad you said something. But I am confused. Would you please help me?” His tone of voice was contrite and soft. Greta met his gaze and nodded her agreement. “Why do you and Lisa want me to have large breasts? And why do you think it would make me hot?”

“Oh perfect question, Samantha dear. My approach was perfect. Miss Maggie is going to love me. I’m going to get that secretarial position for sure,” she told herself.

“Miss Samantha, this is only me talking, so please don’t take it as gospel. But I have watched Miss Lisa watch you. She loves to see you in here as we work on you. Miss Lisa likes it when we make you pretty and sexy and feminine.” Two points from Miss Maggie for using the work feminine! “And so do I!”

“But why? This isn’t natural … or normal. Girls love the rogue macho guy. Girls don’t like the nerdy or quiet or girly-femme guy. Do they?”

“Again it’s just me, but like they say, “different strokes for different folks”. And you’re wrong about girls only wanting the hairy macho guy. In fact, I’ll bet that over half the girls hate those guys. It’s just that there are so many of them we run out of the boys we really want. To be honest, I think most girls are totally tired and fed up with boys that define their sexuality by what they see on ESPN.

“What we really want are boys like us.” Oh great pun dear Greta! “We want someone that is sympathetic to our needs and our likes. You’ve heard the saying “like attracts like”, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I guess so. I’ve also heard “opposites attract”.”

“Only temporarily; opposites almost never last. And prissy girls don’t like macho guys. I mean that is as far away from “like” as you can get.”

“So girls like guys that are girls? I mean guys that act like girls? Swishy, sissy guys?”

“Oh no Miss Samantha. That’s not what we want at all. First and foremost we want guys that are gentle, soft-spoken and kind. We want guys that listen to us, talk to us and share their feelings with us, because that’s what we want to do also. But then … this is hard to explain … if we had our way … really had our way without all the macho posturing and such … we would want a guy that can be like us and enjoy our lifestyle all the way.

“One of the best parts of being a girl is the physical part; the clothes and makeup and massages and salons and hair styles. Boys have no idea what they are missing, and we would love to have a boy that likes to go to the salon and have a wash and set when we go. We could talk about movies and makeup and books and friends while having our nails done or lying side-by-side and having a massage. And if you could become pretty and soft and truly feminine like us … well that would just be the ultimate. That would be so much better than going to the salon and bonding with an ordinary girl friend. That would be the ultimate in bonding and in … love. True love partners.”

“Well that is certainly news to me.”

“But why? You’ve been doing this with Miss Lisa for … for months it seems. And it seems like you understand all of this. And I know Miss Lisa understands all of this and I know … I can see it in her face and her eyes and her hips … I know that she loves coming here with you.”

“In her hips?”

Greta was really proud of herself. She was laying it on thick. “A woman’s hips never lie. They tell you exactly what she is thinking. The way she sits, the way she walks the way she stands. Miss Lisa’s hips love you.”

“And so you want a guy that is a girl? But what about … sex?”

“Oh, well that is different. Yeah we want a pretty boy to take out and show off to our friends. You know how boys like to marry trophy wives and show them off? It makes them feel more important. And it is so easy to do that because everyone understands what makes a woman beautiful. Anyone can look at a girl and tell if she is beautiful or not. It’s easy to see and identify a trophy girl.

“But it’s not as easy to see in guys. When the shoe is on the other foot, when a girl wants a truly trophy guy, the best way for her to show off to the world is to make him look beautiful in a feminine way. You know, graceful, curvaceous, with pretty skin and ample breasts. Breasts that you can show off with push up bras and low cut dresses. But that is where it stops. With his appearance in public.

“In private, in the boudoir we want our man. We want all of those same traits of gentleness, grace, a soft touch, a slow approach, a willingness to listen and of course stamina. But most important is that penis of yours. Oh yeah, we want that!” Greta giggled and came to a stop, as she moved to the other side of the table to begin on Sam’s other arm.

“We want sex alright, but not the kind you see in porno movies. The easiest way to describe it is we want a man with a woman’s sensibilities and man’s dick! Get it?”

“Chicks with dicks,” and they both laughed. “Yes I think I get it. Lisa has told me the same thing. You two girls seem to have the same preferences.”

“Isn’t that funny?” Greta said to herself. “Because Miss Lisa may be a girl, but I sure as hell am not!” She grinned at Sam. “I want my boys to forget that effeminate, sissy shit and ravage me. But that’s just me,” she giggled and kept her thoughts to herself — himself.

“So Greta, does this mean there is a little lesbian in every girl? I mean you want a girl-like partner?”

“Not at all. You’re thinking like a guy, Miss Samantha. Pardon me, but I think you’ve seen too many lesbian porno flicks.”

“But I haven’t,” he protested.

“Then I apologize,” Greta replied. “I wasn’t thinking again. Think of it in terms of fashion. Many years ago guys wore powdered wigs. In some places guys have worn kilts and sarongs. On and off through the ages guys have worn makeup. Catholic priests have worn vestments that look just like a dress. In the sixties guys wore their hair long — although they did a horrible job of caring for it. And thirty years ago no guy in the world would have had pierced ears, yet here we are today.

“Fashions come and fashions go. All I’m saying is that we would like to see our boys wearing contemporary fashions that are similar to ours. Like dresses and heels and stockings. You have absolutely great looking legs Sam. You owe it to the world to show us how beautiful you are. Understand?”

“I think I do Greta. Thanks for the conversation.”

“Good, I like talking with you also, Miss Samantha. I’m done with your arms. Please roll on your stomach, I’ll give you some of these makeover mags to read, and I’ll start on your gorgeous legs.”

Twenty minutes later Greta had finished the back of Sam’s legs, hips and after stripping off his panties, his callipygian assets as well. “Please roll over and I’ll start on the front of you.” Greta worked her way up to Sam’s crotch. “Miss Samantha, would you please pull your robe up to your tummy?”

This was a difficult time for Sam. He felt so vulnerable and weird when he exposed his penis to Greta. And the fact that he was pretending to be a girl made it even stranger. Sam was extremely self-conscious.

“This is a sensitive area, Miss Samantha. I’m going to give you a Brazilian and clean off everything except a thin strip right in the middle. If this hurts tell me and I will slow down.” Greta spread her wax on one side of his pubic hair, applied the cloth and … rip!

“Oooof!”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. One more right?”

“Yes. Hold tough.” She ripped off the hair on his other side and he barely jumped, but Greta could see his abs tense up. Then Greta startled him again. She took her soft hand and caressed Sam’s penis and scrotum. He couldn’t help himself and he automatically started getting an erection. He tried to pull his robe down over his crotch but Greta stopped him. “Please don’t, Miss Samantha. I’ve seen this before. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s natural. You have hair on your scrotum, would you like me to remove it?”

“Wax me?” he said in panic. Just the thought of Greta ripping hair out of his scrotum made his penis go flaccid.

“No,” Greta laughed. “That would be cruel. I’ll shave you. Don’t worry, I’m very good and very careful at shaving. I won’t hurt you … or cut anything off. I promise.”

Sam chuckled a bit. “Ok, I’m going to trust you.”

“You’ll love it.” Greta was sure he would love it. She had done it many times to herself and the other “girls”. Greta loved having a soft penis in her hands! She used warm shaving cream and the moment she erotically rubbed it over his balls, shivers would go up and down his sack and he would get an immediate erection. It never failed. And it didn’t fail this time either.

As Greta carefully shaved his scrotum, Sam tried to apologize for his embarrassment.
“Please don’t apologize Miss Samantha. It makes me feel like I did something wrong or immoral. I think you look very attractive.” Then to make things worse she filled her hand with warm shaving cream and rubbed it over his penis, gripping him and starting to stroke him.

Sam quickly grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Thank you for the … consideration Greta. But that won’t be necessary.”

“I apologize Miss Samantha. That was my initiative and I hope it doesn’t reflect on the salon.”

“No problem,” Sam said. “I’ll get dressed now.”

Greta turned away from Sam and left. He dressed and left for the front desk. Olivia intercepted him and took him to her styling chair. “How are you today Miss Samantha?”

They chatted for a bit and Olivia confirmed her intentions to apply those thick, super-curly lashes for Samantha. “And do you want to try something new with makeup?”

With a straight face Sam asked, “Do you do Goth?”

Olivia looked him in the eye for a few moments, then a little smile started turning up the corners of her mouth. “Are you sure?”

Sam smiled and said, “Yeah. Let’s see if we can shock somebody. Don’t hold back, ok?”

Olivia laughed loudly and began hiccupping, “Ok. But let me get someone to help. We have a girl here that is into … alternative night scenes. She claims she’s good at this. Let’s find out.”

“Do it,” Samantha said with a big grin. It was time for her to turn the tables on Miss Mona — if that was even possible.

Olivia handled the lash attachments then called over Stevie. Stevie was typical of all the girls in the salon. She was taller than Sam, very big on top (at least a C cup), had a tiny waist (it never dawned on Sam that they were all wearing corsets just like him!) and she had that perfect salon skin. Her nose was tiny (rhinoplasty) her lips were plump (collagen) her cheek bones protruded (more surgery) and her hair was long with bangs to her eyes and black as a raven. Stevie looked like a good Goth expert.

Stevie handed a photo quality print to Sam. It contained the same female face with several different variations of Goth makeup. “Miss Samantha, take a look at this. Do any of these look like something you want?”

“Oh neat!” Sam said as he looked at the print. “Yeah, these are good. Let’s see, I like the dark eye, overdone eye shadow like in 2 and 4 and even10. Oh that would be just awesome. And I like the blood red lipstick, but I’m wondering if black might be better.”

“It depends on what you’re trying to accomplish. If you’re going for the shock value go for the black lipstick. The red lipstick gives you a softer appearance; more feminine and less aggressive. Let me ask, do you have someplace you are going or something specific planned?”

“I don’t have anything planned. It was just a spur of the moment thought. I was thinking that maybe … it might be fun to wear for Miss Mona.”

Both girls gasped. Sam was expecting them to break into a laugh but neither did. Olivia finally said, “Miss Samantha, I would be careful with this. Miss Maggie might see the humor, but I’m not too sure about Miss Mona.”

That almost convinced Sam to opt for the black lipstick, but then a bit of common sense kicked in. “Then let’s go red, red, red.”

“Probably a better choice,” Stevie said with a bit of relief. And I have something else that I think will go very nicely with the look.”

“What?”

“It’s a secret for when we finish.” Stevie began Sam’s makeover by applying a foundation several shades lighter than his normal color. She applied it with a sponge, then used a large brush to cover it with translucent powder. Sam’s face looked very smooth and uniform. “You need strong, curved eyebrows,” Stevie explained as she used a pencil to darken and accent Sam’s brows.

Next, Stevie applied a dark lavender eye shadow over the entire lid and under the eye. She used a sponge to soften and smear the shadow. Then Stevie switched to a dark brown and covered a bit less of the lid, leaving the lavender peaking out at the top of the lid and just under the brow. She softened that color, then moved on to a dark black that covered a little less, leaving the lavender then dark brown peaking out at the top. All of that was softened and blended to look like picture 2. Then Stevie used a dark charcoal kohl pencil to line the top and bottom lashes and give the eye a heavy dark look. And finally Stevie applied not one, not two but three heavy coats of a lash building mascara.

She applied no blush or other colors on Sam’s face except for his lipstick. She used a dark red to outline Sam’s lips, painting them a bit large and accenting his cupids bow. Then she brushed in a brighter red to fill his lips. “Miss Samantha, have you had any lip injections?”

Sam loved being addressed as Miss. Not because of the female connotations, but because of the respect. It was neat! Here he was, only 18 years old, and yet he was commanding tons of respect from people. It really was an ego trip! “Yes. About 7 or 8 weeks ago the doctor injected my lips with collagen. Why?”

“Well, it’s just my opinion, but I would do another injection. I think you have beautifully shaped lips, and plumping them up would make them truly gorgeous. And even more kissable. Miss Lisa would love them, trust me.”

“Ok, I’ll think about it. Now, what was your secret?”

“You are going to love this,” and Stevie presented Sam with a black lace choker. It was totally Goth!

“That is totally awesome,” Sam crooned. “Awesome. I love it.”

“I knew you would, Miss Samantha. And voila, you are now a Goth girl. How do you feel?”

Sam looked at his reflection in the mirror and smiled. “I like it,” he said. “I feel mysterious and beautiful. And mischievous. I hope this doesn’t get me in too much trouble.”

“So do we,” said Olivia with a bit of trepidation in her tone.

Sam stood and gave Olivia a hug, “Don’t worry, I take full responsibility for my makeover. There will be no repercussions. I promise.”

Sam received numerous comments as he proceeded to the front desk, signed for his appointment and retrieved his purse. He pulled out his cell phone and called Maggie. “Hi Miss Maggie, I’m finished with my salon appointment. Can I come visit?” Sam put his phone back in his purse, said his goodbyes and as he strutted towards the door he said, “Now the fun begins.”

Sam opened the frosted front door and click-clacked his way across the first floor lobby to an unmarked elevator. He slid his card in and typed “sexygirl”. Sam hated that password. It only reminded him of the fact that he was supposed to be a girl and not a boy. He stepped on the elevator and pushed the button for the executive floor — 20 — and then glanced at his image in the mirror. He looked hot. He liked his new Goth image. Sam couldn’t deny that he liked red lipstick, and boy did he have red lipstick!

He reached the executive floor and the receptionist was waiting for him. She had watched him on the elevator camera and even though she was stunned — no shocked — she had already put out the word. When she buzzed Sam through the security door and into the executive wing, the receptionists had already staged themselves to see his Goth look. In fact, they had literally run down the hall to catch a glimpse of Sam before he turned into Maggie’s office.

“Hello Miss Samantha,” rang out as he stepped through the heavy doors and walked down the hall towards Maggie’s office. Sam returned a few of the greetings, but it seemed like there were too many girls to contend with. At Maggie’s office he stepped into the alcove and was again greeted by another receptionist, Maggie’s.

“Hello Miss Samantha, you like nice today.”

Sam grinned and asked, “Really?”

The girl grinned back and said, “I like your new look ma’am. It’s … bold. And really pretty. I bet you surprise a few people today.”

Sam laughed and said, “Yeah … probably. May I see Miss Maggie?”

He was buzzed into the next office, where Maggie’s executive secretary was waiting. She too had been called with a heads up. She saw Sam and couldn’t help herself. A huge grin broke out on her face and she started giggling. Sam looked at her for a few minutes and then asked, “Do I look that bad?”

“Heavens no! You look really pretty. But your new look is a bit unconventional. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look on this floor.” And she laughed some more.

“How much trouble am I going to be in?”

She stopped her giggling and said, “I honestly don’t know. But don’t worry, I don’t think anyone will go berserk or any anything.”

“We shall see,” Sam said. “May I go in?” The secretary buzzed Sam into Maggie’s office.

Sam opened the door and stepped onto the soft and plush carpet. Maggie looked up and began to push her chair back so that she could stand and greet Sam. But Maggie never got that far. She froze in position and just stared at Sam. And she stared at Sam. And she stared some more. All of a sudden Sam began to think this might not have been such a good idea. He had forgotten how quiet the room was. There were no sounds from the A/C or outside traffic and you could have heard another person breathing — if anyone was breathing.

Sam stepped in a few feet then stopped. Maggie eventually caught her bearings and she pushed back her chair and stood quietly behind her desk. She looked Sam up and down several times, then walked around the desk and leaned against the front of the big walnut monstrosity. She looked Sam up and down a few more times then asked, “New shoes?”

Sam started smiling, still not sure what was happening. Maggie started grinning and then burst out laughing. She continued laughing as she walked to Sam and gave him a hug. After getting the laughter out of her system she stepped back and held her future son-in-law by the shoulders. “Holy shit Samantha! What is this all about?”

“It’s Goth. I thought I would experiment a little and try out a new look.”

Maggie began laughing again, put her arm around Sam and walked her over to a chair. She motioned Sam to sit and she walked over to her desk. She pushed a button and said, “Sybil, diet cokes and cookies please.” Then she joined Sam, sitting in one of her wing back chairs. “Ok, tell me what is going on.”

“Nothing, really. I wanted to try something different. And I couldn’t think of anything more different.”

“Are we rebelling?”

“Maybe just a little. But truly, I just wanted to try something drastically different. It’s a free day with nothing going on and the girls suggested that I use the day to experiment a little. You know, try a different look.”

“So they put you up to this?”

“No, not at all. They suggested that I experiment, but they had no idea that I would do this. In fact, I didn’t have any idea until 2 minutes before I asked for the makeover.”

“Who did it?”

“One of the girls. It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“You swear it was your decision only?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Then it doesn’t matter. But trust me, I’ll find out.”

“Miss Maggie, please don’t do anything. I had to talk them into it. And I promised that nothing would happen to them. Please?”

“I promise. So once more; why?”

“Ignorance and lack of experience. After they suggested experimenting I decided that I wanted to try a new look. But I didn’t know what to try. So as I was looking through the books, I just didn’t have enough experience to see the subtle differences between the different styles. But Goth I could see the difference. And it is kind of glam, isn’t it?”

Sybil brought in the cokes and cookies. They sipped their cokes and nibbled their cookies and said nothing. Finally Sam asked, “So what do you think Miss Mona will say?”

Maggie chuckled. “So you did do it to get a reaction, did you? A little shock theater?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “Yeah, I guess so. We had a little discussion last night and I guess that was still in the back of my mind.”

Maggie nodded her head in a knowing manner. “It depends on her mood. Either she’ll hit the ceiling and go crazy or she’ll shoot you.”

Sam was concerned. “Really? Doesn’t she have a sense a humor?”

“Sure … but today is probably not that day. Is that the reaction you want? Or something else?”

Sam looked at his pretty red nails. “Well, I hope she gives me just a little credit for being my own person, but then I hope she finds her sense of humor. I don’t want to get kicked out on the street.”

“That won’t happen, Samantha. In this one situation, Lisa has more power than Miss Mona.” Maggie threw her hands up and confessed, “I honestly don’t know what she will do. You will just have to go find out.”

“You mean to her office? Now?”

“Now is as good as anytime. Let me call her and see if she is free.” Maggie pushed a few buttons on her desk and Miss Mona’s voice came over the speaker. “Yes Maggie.”

“Miss Mona, Samantha is here. She’s finished with her salon appointment and she would like to come see you.”

“Why?” she asked tersely.

“You really have to ask her.”

“Give me two minutes, then send her up.” Miss Mona disconnected.

“We’ll be leaving at the normal time tonight. Is that ok for you?” Maggie asked.

“Sure.”

“And if you finish early with Miss Mona, you can come hang here until we leave.”

“Thank you Miss Maggie. Well, I better get going.” Sam left and walked out into the hallway again. And there seemed to be even more secretaries hanging around and greeting Sam. Sam wasn’t stupid; he knew what they were up to. He just didn’t realize how fast their communication system was. It was fast.

He strolled down the hall until he reached Miss Mona’s receptionist. “Hi Kristin, may I see Miss Mona?”

“Certainly Miss Samantha, go right in.”

Inside he met Sophie who also was wearing a big smile. “Go right in, she is expecting you.”

“Gulp, here I go.” Sam walked in and Miss Mona was at her desk bent over some paperwork. Without looking up she said, “Hi Samantha. Please come in and take a seat. I’ll be right with you.” Samantha tip toed to one of the chairs in front of Mona’s desk. She sat as femininely as she could, crossed her legs, and laid her hands in her lap; a very feminine gesture. Her hem rode up just above her knee. And there she waited for a full minute.

Miss Mona finished her reading, took off her reading glasses and switched to her bifocals. She leaned back in her chair and looked at Sam. “I’m sorry for holding you up, Samantha. I have this work ethic or something where I want to finish something before I start the next. I’m not good at multi-tasking. So how was your day? How did the tests go?”

“This is weird,” Sam thought to himself. “This is not what I expected from her.”

“Pretty good I think. I’m sure I did well on both of them”

“Good for you. And you’re finished with your salon appointment? Everything go ok?”

“Yes.”

“Great. So what can I do for you?”

“Uhm, I was just wondering when we would be leaving today? You know, driving home?”

Miss Mona leaned forward and made a production of removing her glasses and placing them on the desk in front of her. “You didn’t come here to ask me when we’re going home. Come on Samantha, spit it out.”

Sam screwed up his courage, which was actually kind of dumb. He was deliberately walking into the lion’s den looking for a fight. Stupid! “I wanted to ask if you like my new look?”

“Absolutely! It’s Goth isn’t it?”

“Yes,” a stunned Sam replied.

“What’s not to like? Samantha, you are so pretty that I can’t imagine any look that you can’t pull off and continue to look utterly beautiful. Seriously. So let’s stop beating around the bush. What do you really want to say?”

Sam was dumbfounded. Why was he here? He wanted to throw his independence and individualism in her face. So do it. “Well, about last night. Our conversation.”

Miss Mona cut him off with a wave of her hand. She slipped her glasses back on and said, “I apologize.”

“Huh?”

“Close your mouth Samantha, it’s not lady-like. I was goading you and trying to intimidate you. I was trying to push you into something faster than you are probably ready for. I apologize. Do you accept?”

“Uhm, yes.”

“What else?”

“Uhh … nothing I guess.”

“Good. I’d like a little more time tonight. Do you mind if we leave at 5?”

“No, that is ok with me.”

“Good. Please let Miss Maggie know also.” The discussion was over. Sam stood and began walking out. But Miss Mona stopped him, “Samantha?” Sam turned and looked at Miss Mona. “I apologize, but I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Ma’am?”

“You went out of your way today to make yourself even prettier and sexier, and more feminine, didn’t you?” Sam looked at his nails and said nothing. “Lisa is truly blessed to have found you Samantha dear. We all are.”

Sam didn’t know what else to say, so he said, “Thank you.” He began to leave but he was stopped once more.

“Samantha, may I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

“This Saturday evening I would like to do a theme dinner party. Let’s make it Goth. Would you and Lisa dress Goth for it?”

Sam laughed quietly. “I guess so. Why not?”

“Good. Get with Miss Maggie and make arrangements. Invite anyone you like, but they have to come dressed in Goth. And one more thing; can you buy a Goth dress for me? I doubt I will have the time.”

“Ok.” Sam knew what he would be doing Saturday. But who to invite?

Back in Maggie’s office he relayed the new departure time. “And Miss Mona asked me for a favor.”

“Yes?”

“She wants to have a Goth party Saturday evening. And I am supposed to make the arrangements.”

Maggie started laughing. “She is full of surprises isn’t she? What else did she say?”

“Nothing much. I am to invite whoever I want and she wants me to buy her a Goth dress for the party. So who do I invite? I don’t know anyone.”

“I’ll help you there. It’s short notice so we will be lucky to get half our guests. We can start with the cousins and their concubines. Miss Grace and Miss Eunice of course. And I’ll check to see if Miss Mona has a politician she wants to invite. Jeff Winter might be in town, I’ll check. We don’t’ have time to mail proper invitations, and email is too gauche, so you will have to call everyone and invite them personally. It is the only proper option we have.”

“Me?”

“Of course, it is going to be your party. You are going to be the host. But don’t worry, I’ll help you handle the details.

“Before we go any further though, I want to change the topic while I’m thinking about it. Have you called your foster parents and told them about your summer plans?”

“Not exactly.”

“Aren’t they expecting you home for the summer? Don’t you think you should tell them you won’t be going home?”

“Well … it’s kind of hard calling them. I don’t sound exactly the same.”

Maggie smiled, “I understand. Your voice is progressing nicely. You don’t sound perfect yet but you are sounding much more feminine.” There’s that word again! “We will be getting you some advanced training this summer. So why don’t you text them at least?”

“They’re old. I mean they don’t text, but I can e-mail them.”

“I think you should do that Samantha. And when you do I have a favor to ask you. Please don’t use Lisa’s name.”

“I already have.”

“Last name too?”

“I don’t remember for sure.”

“Ok, what’s done is done. Just please don’t use her name anymore. Tell them about Paris and you can send them some pictures of the Eiffel Tower when you get there. And tell them you are interning in D.C., but again please don’t name names. Ok?”

“I guess, but why not?”

“It’s complicated Samantha. It has to do with several reasons, all of which concern Lisa’s and your future. Lisa will explain more later, but please hold off for now. Ok? And along those same lines, please don’t give them our address or the name of the company.”

“Miss Maggie isn’t this a little strange? A little cloak and dagger?”

“It’s not that Samantha.” Maggie paused. “You are as good as family Samantha, so I can tell you some things. Miss Mona and Lisa have big plans for Lisa’s future. Miss Lisa will be going into politics.”

“Yeah, she told me. She even said that she wants to be president some day,” Sam said with a smile. Maggie didn’t smile. Sam just looked at Maggie waiting for a reply. Maggie didn’t reply. Sam’s smile slowly faded. “She’s serious?”

“Absolutely Samantha. And so to make a very long and complicated story short, plans are already being drawn up. Until everything is finalized, Lisa’s past — or in this case her present life — must be protected. The less people know the better. Politics is a very dirty business and no one can be too careful.”

Sam slumped into his chair. He wasn’t stupid. “I’m a liability. No family, no money and no connections. So how long is she going to keep me before she has to dump me? Is Paris her last gift to me?”

“Samantha! No, no and no! Don’t ever think that! Never!” Maggie calmed down and lowered her voice. “Lisa is in love with you. She will never let you go. You two will get married — trust me.” Maggie paused again. “Please don’t let anyone know that I just said that. Samantha … I’m saying too much. I’m ruining everything for Lisa.”

Maggie got very quiet and very serious, “Samantha, please do as I say. For the time being, please keep your relationship with Lisa private. And don’t worry about your future with Lisa. It’s as bright as a thousand suns.”

Sam smiled. What a relief. “Thank you Miss Maggie. I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.” Maggie jumped up and announced, “Now, before we get down to business, I want some pictures of your first Goth makeover. Lisa is going to want to see how cool you look.”

“Miss Maggie, before you get your camera, can I ask a favor?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have any friends — other than you and Lisa that is — so can I invite some of the girls from the salon?”

Maggie looked towards the ceiling thinking. “Samantha, with our social level there are sometimes some unwritten rules that we must follow, even if we don’t want to.”

“Miss Maggie I think I know where you’re going, but I’ve seen the girls at other parties. And Florence came to your party that first time.”

“It’s complicated Samantha. They came as invited … companions of other guests.”

“Miss Maggie, I know what they do. But I don’t have anyone else to invite. And Jennifer too. She has been really nice to me.”

“I can’t make that call,” and she handed the phone to Samantha. “You have to ask Miss Mona.” Maggie dialed and left the room to get her camera.

Maggie dallied allowing Samantha ample time to talk with Miss Mona. Upon her return she found Samantha sitting behind her desk and looking at pictures. “Harriet?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“What did Miss Mona say?” Maggie was trying to change the subject.

Sam was having none of that. He had just won a giant concession from Miss Mona and he was pushing his advantage. Sam continued to look at the picture and he said, “She is very pretty. You must be very proud.” Maggie said nothing. Sam set down the picture and looked at Maggie. “A while back I was in Miss Mona’s office and I had to use her bathroom. I peaked in her bedroom and I saw a picture on the wall.”

Maggie walked over to the edge of the desk and put her hand on the desk as if to steady herself. “I saw a wedding picture of two very beautiful girls … both in wedding dresses.” Maggie’s complexion was turning white as the blood drained from her face. “You made a wonderful couple and I think Lisa is the luckiest girl in the world having two mothers that love her so much.”

A look of relief washed over Maggie’s face. Sam stood and asked, “May I hug you?” Maggie’s head was still spinning a little as she embraced Sam.

“Thank god he didn’t put it all together,” she thought.

Sam broke their embrace and said, “Miss Mona said yes. I can invite them.”

Maggie was still trying to clear her head. She had to relay this latest development to Lisa and Mona. They would need to know. “What?” Maggie asked.

“Miss Mona said I can invite whom ever I want. It’s my party.”

“Ok then,” Maggie said and she flashed Sam smile. “Then … then you should stop by and invite them today. That way they can get a little more warning. They might have to do some shopping also. But first, I want 5 pictures — just to cover all the f-stops — then you should run down to the salon and make your invitations in person. Then why don’t you wait there, and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go home.”

“Great! And Miss Maggie … thanks ... for all of our conversation.”

Samantha could hardly wait to call Lisa that evening. “Congratulations Samantha. Your first dinner party and it’s a theme party. You’re becoming quite the socialite!” This would be great training for Samantha. As Lisa’s concubine one of her responsibilities would be organizing and handling dinner parties in the future. Lisa was thrilled.

“You have to come dressed in Goth,” Sam said.

“I’ll pick up something. Don’t worry, this should be fun.”

“Yeah!”

CHAPTER 39

Sam had a wonderful week. His exams were easy. If he didn’t get As in all of his classes he would be shocked. He emailed his foster parents and gave them the great news; he had a summer internship in Washington D.C.. He went horseback riding and chatted with Jennifer. She was thrilled to get his invitation. She had never been invited to a dinner party in the “big house” and she was so excited she almost wet her panties.

“May I bring a date?” she asked.

“For sure! But he has to be in Goth!”

Sam went shopping Wednesday morning and bought all kinds of neat stuff. He was even allowed to use his own money. He bought dresses for Miss Mona (size 12), Miss Maggie (size 14) and himself (size 10). Size 10! And even that felt a little loose. A few more pounds and Sam, I mean Samantha, would be smaller than Lisa! Sam was happy but Samantha was ecstatic. Samantha was slowly taking over.

At the local Goth shop Sam bought skull earrings and spider necklaces and black chokers and chain belts and a pair of black stiletto heels with straps that wound around his legs up to his knees! Cool! He bought black and red wigs for his mother-in law and grandmother-in-law. Well they weren’t his “mothers” yet, but he had high hopes. HIGH hopes! He bought black mesh stockings and black nail polish that glowed under ultraviolet.

He found table settings and bats to hang from the ceiling and cookie cutters for bat cookies. Sam was going crazy. Ultraviolet lights were purchased and he would have to get help from Chas to hang them in the salon. Maggie suggested dry ice in the punch. Red and black lace would be laid over the lights. Eerie skull candles would be used at the dinner table. Black roses were ordered for a centerpiece.

Maggie sent one of the maids out to buy Goth maid outfits for the help. Chas rented a tuxedo with long tails. And all of them, (even Chas!) wore black nail polish and lipstick.

Sam had never been involved in anything Goth before, but this was turning into fun. Stevie volunteered to drive out early with her boy friend and help everyone with their makeup. She brought even more jewelry and some other “interesting” items. Handcuffs, whips, studded collars and riding crops added to the fun. She brought enough to pass around at the party. Sam set up a table in the entry foyer with all the “extras” and Chas was to invite people to accessorize their outfits.

And in between all of the plans Sam took his tests, spent evening hours looking up Goth and Paris information, chatted with the love of his life, held hands with Miss Maggie and drove antique cars, hit golf balls and rode horses. It was a very exciting and eventful week.

After Wednesday shopping he returned to the salon in the afternoon. Greta gave him a paraffin wax for his hands, and left him in his warm mittens while she turned him over to Olivia. Olivia washed and set his hair on large rollers. The rollers would allow Olivia to brush out Sam’s hair into a straight style for Thursday’s swimsuit shoot. He had to sleep in the rollers Wednesday evening and Sam even enjoyed that. Well, not exactly enjoyed, but it was a girl thing and he decided that he now liked being a girl. At least for this week. And maybe next. And certainly in Paris. But after that? After that who cared? It was too far away for Sam to be concerned with. He was having fun now. He was having sex with a gorgeous girl, he was being pampered by more gorgeous girls and he was living in the lap of luxury.

Mary and Alyne joined Sam for a short while and gave him instructions for Thursday. Along with logistics, Sam was told to not wear breast forms, a brassiere, his corset or anything tight that might leave marks on his skin. He was not to wear any makeup — typical — and he was told to take 2 — two! —enemas in the morning. And no solid food, only a limited amount of liquids. Sheesh!

After his hair was rolled up, Stevie gave him another Goth makeover using lighter foundation and black lipstick. Sam was having the time of his life. All the girls could talk about was the party! They were planning makeup and clothes and jewelry and even boys. Sam wasn’t too interested in the boys, but Maggie was.

Maggie called the girls together later and warned them in so uncertain terms to be on their best behavior Saturday night. “Be careful what information you give Samantha. You are responsible for your boy friends. If one of them hits on Samantha or Lisa one of you may be leaving the country!” Maggie was deadly serious. “And remember Miss Mona, Miss Eunice and Miss Grace will be there. Enjoy but don’t go crazy. Don’t over imbibe. Your futures are on the line here.” Maggie could be a real joy killer

After his set and makeover Sam asked Stevie, “Can you make me look Chinese?”

“Chinese?”

“Yeah, can you pull my eyes tight so they look slanted? And give me a Chinese look in makeup?”

“In Goth?” she asked.

“Oh no. Lisa is coming home on Friday. I’d like to come in and get a Chinese makeover, updo hair and hair sticks and whatever else you can do. I have a pretty Mandarin dress I want to wear to welcome her home.”

“I don’t know about the eyes. I can pull the skin back and tape it close to the hairline. You would have to wear your hair down to cover the tape. When do you want to do this? Friday?”

“Early afternoon so I can get back and changed before she arrives.”

“Let me do some research and then you should call Friday before coming in, because I just don’t know.”

“That’s fair.”

Thursday morning Sam rode into town with Miss Mona and Miss Maggie. Sam had coffee with Maggie in her office and they talked about the party. At nine o’clock Sam left to get ready for his shoot. He strolled into the salon and took a deep breath. He loved that smell. All the girls greeted him and Olivia took him to her styling station. “How did you sleep?”

“Great!”

“Really? The curlers didn’t bother you?”

“Just a bit. I considered them part of the job, just a tool of the trade. And then I think of the money. Puts me right to sleep.” They both laughed.

Alyne and Mary arrived and supervised Sam’s brush out. Olivia did a very nice job and gave Sam long straight, shiny hair that was perfect for swimsuit modeling. They all walked up to the second floor photography studio together, where Maggie was waiting for them. She wanted to “practice” taking pictures of a professional model.

What Maggie and the others really wanted was an update on Sam’s progress. They wanted to see what he looked like with a minimal amount of clothing. They wanted Alyne to measure him from head to foot and around every thing except his penis. They wanted to see what his body fat was and where his extra fat was sitting. Could they diet it off him or would they have to work it off him? Would he need liposuction? And how was that tightlacing coming along? His waist looked nice with the corset, but how about without it?

And then there was the objective of seeing their pretty little girly-boy in a swimsuit. Did Sam have what it took to present a sexy figure? Could he model and stand and strut like a real female model? How far had he come and how far did he have to go. Inquiring minds were more than curious. They were infatuated with the boy and his progress.

Mary handed Sam a bikini bottom and instructed him to change out of his clothes and just put on the bottom. Sam stripped down and pulled on the bottom. It was then that he realized he shouldn’t be modeling swimsuits. He became very self conscious and concerned. The bikini bottom was so small that even in a flaccid condition his penis poked out the top. He tucked himself but found the bikini short on material between his legs. He had to be very careful holding his thighs tightly together to keep from exposing himself.

But that wasn’t the most awkward part. Exposing himself on top felt even odder. Sam was a boy, he knew that. And boys didn’t have breasts, or at least they didn’t have boobs in the female sense. But he felt that he should be covered on top. He had been wearing breast forms and bras for long enough now that they felt comfortable and correct for him. He didn’t like flashing his non-existent breasts. Forget common sense, it just didn’t feel right.

From behind the dressing screen he called out, “Alyne, do you have something bigger? This isn’t going to … cover everything.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mary answered. “We know your situation. We’re just shooting for range with this first suit.”

“But … it doesn’t feel right.”

Mary looked at Maggie and smiled. They both understood. “Don’t worry, there will be no pictures taken. Alyne, give Samantha a cover. That one,” and she pointed at a sheer silk cover top.

Sam still didn’t feel quite right. He held his thighs tightly together and waddled out to everyone’s stares. “Samantha, take a moment to become comfortable, it’s only us girls here.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said.

Everyone chuckled politely. “I understand,” Mary said. “But remember, we’re all professionals here. As soon as you’re ready, you have to take off your cover so Alyne can measure you.”

Sam gave a feeble smile and said, “I know this is stupid, but I feel … naked without a top.”

“That’s a sign of growth, Samantha,” Maggie said. “Take your time honey.”

Sam took a deep breath and removed the top. Alyne quickly moved in and measured his neck, chest, bust line, waist, hips, arms and very carefully his thighs. “Put your top back on Samantha. You can wait behind the screen if you prefer.” Sam quickly hustled back to safety. While Alyne and Mary began going through their collection Maggie took out her phone and texted Lisa.

“36-27-35” Sam had some more weight to lose. While his 26 “corset was fitting him nicely, without it he was expanding back to 27 inches. Part of that was relaxation of his tummy, but some was due to fat around the waist. The dieting would continue.

Maggie was very pleased with his overall shape. His arms were not muscular or big, and neither were his thighs. His calves were small and shapely. He couldn’t have weighed much more than 115 pounds. Sam was coming along nicely.

Alyne and Mary started Sam with bikinis. They made the bottoms a bit more substantial and on top they inserted breast forms. Sam had not seen these types of forms before. They were smaller in diameter and didn’t feel as full under the arm. But they were plump and filled out the bikini cups very nicely. Mary worked with Sam to put him in poses that didn’t show his tightly clenched thighs. She shot a bit from the side and usually posed him with one leg in front of the other. Then they shot one piece suits, with halter tops, and neck scoops and square lines and eventually moved into swim dresses where he could spread his legs and stand more comfortably.

Sam went through 30 different combinations of suits before Mary was satisfied with the day’s work. And Sam had learned something also. Along with additional modeling tips that he picked up, he learned something about himself. He was starting to think of his body as if it were female. He didn’t feel comfortable stripping down like a boy. He wanted to protect his modesty, and that included his top. He might not have real breasts, but when clothed he felt he did. For the last several weeks Sam had pretended to be a girl with real girl attributes. That included breasts. And he had learned how to walk and sleep and even bathe with those breasts. And most importantly, how to use them in public. Sometimes you displayed them and sometimes you minimized their profile. He had become comfortable with his faux breasts and he wanted them back.

Psychologically Sam was developing breasts. And when he looked in the mirror at the end of the day, he realized just how flat, and just how under-developed he was. Sam didn’t linger too long. He quickly slipped his arms through his bra straps and clasped it behind his back. The snugness of his brassier felt comforting and safe. And when he added his breast forms he looked better too. After pulling his dress over his head and smoothing it into place Sam felt better. He felt more complete, and more finished. Sam might not want breasts, but Samantha depended on them. She needed them.

Friday morning Sam ran through his normal routine, moisturizing his skin and slipping back into his hip length corset. Sam had two corset lengths, one for the waist only and the second that extended down over the top of his hips. He wore the short one to bed every evening and the long one during the day. He felt comfortable in them, they no longer seemed as restrictive. They didn’t feel as tight since he had lost some weight, and he had learned how to bend and maneuver despite their rigid confinement.

Sam pulled his hair back into a ponytail, then sat in front of his vanity and applied his face for the day. He was happy to have his long and thick lashes back. As he fluttered his lashes and made himself look pretty he wondered how he would look with blue or green eyes. He would have to ask about contact lenses for changing eye color. Sam chose his large breast forms for his morning ride and after slipping them into his brassiere, he put on his riding clothes.

He made eggs for breakfast and enjoyed a leisurely pace. He chatted with the downstairs maid, Janice. She was looking forward to seeing everyone made up in Goth. She thought the whole idea was a hoot. At the stable, all Jennifer wanted to talk about was the upcoming party. She had bought a Goth dress and was looking forward to bringing her boyfriend to a “big time” party. She had met her boyfriend at a horse show and she wanted everyone to meet him. Jennifer gave Sam an extended lesson, mostly because she wanted to talk.

After riding he spent some time on the internet checking out tourist sites outside of Paris proper. This Paris and France and Switzerland trip was going to be the best time of his life. He just knew it. Lisa and Samantha all alone for 3 weeks … oh wow! Sight seeing during the day, clubs at night (Lisa had already made that clear) and then sleeping together for three weeks in a row was going to be awesome.

They were going to dress like rich girls every day, wearing pretty sun dresses and big hats and heels. Going to the museum or the salon or maybe some power shopping, just the two of them … two hot chicks in Paris. He wasn’t a girl! How many times does he have to tell you this? Just ask Lisa after a marathon sex scene in her boudoir! But out in the real world he could pass for a girl. Oh wow, he could pass! He was down to a size 10, his waist was tiny and his boobs were big. With a little padding his hips looked pretty damn good also! And he knew how to wiggle everything if he had to.

His long, curly, high-lighted hair was pretty awesome too. He could put it in a ponytail and look the perky teenage chick, or he could brush it out and go the twenty something, sophisticated look complete with 6 figure earrings and red lipstick that begged for kissing. And Miss Maggie had agreed that he could get a little more collagen injected to puff those lips up even bigger.

Europe was going to be awesome. He just knew it. Would he ever want to come back?

Chas drove him into town for his afternoon appointments. He had brought his evening gown with him, so Olivia could make sure his makeup matched his outfit. Maggie had found him an upscale Chinese restaurant and he had already laid out Lisa’s dress for the evening. They were going to a movie after dinner and then who knew? Maybe hit a club and go dancing. Sam still didn’t like clubs and the possibility of a guy approaching him, but he wanted to go clubbing in Paris. He needed practice and he needed to get more comfortable. Or maybe he would bring Lisa home and … .

Sam ran into the salon and dropped off his dress, then popped into the elevator and rode up to the doctor’s office. Sam did not like the doctor and he really felt uncomfortable around her. But today was going to be different. He was going to become even cuter. But she had another surprise for him. The nurse took him to a waiting room and had him change into a paper gown. “For lip injections?”

“Yes ma’am,” she answered.

His worst fears were confirmed when the doctor announced that she was going to milk Sam. Shit! Sam didn’t want to be milked. He never liked to be milked and this was horrible timing. He wanted a full load for Lisa tonight. “This seems excessive. Every time I come here you want a semen sample. Do you really have to keep doing this? Today?”

“We have to make sure that everything is working properly, Miss Samantha. We won’t have to do this much longer.” She was right. They were building up a nice bankroll of Sam’s semen. They would have more than enough to get Lisa pregnant several times.

Sam tolerated his milking and then received his lip injections. At least his lips looked fuller and cuter. As he looked in the mirror he wondered if maybe his nose was a little too big. Maybe someday he would consider it, but not tonight. He was getting his girlfriend back. Sam was getting laid tonight. Oh boy!

Sam popped back into the salon and stopped momentarily. He spun around and took in the sights and smells and ambiance. The girls watched him and just smiled. They liked Sam. He had invited them to a party with the rich people. This was going to be cool!

“Florence, make me beautiful,” Sam said when he reached the desk.

“Yes ma’am! Hot date tonight?”

“Scorching!”

“Then you better get going.”

“Can I have my dress? I want Olivia to see what I’m wearing tonight.” Florence carried the dress for Sam, as the walked to Olivia’s station. “Hi Olivia. This is my dress for tonight. I want to go as Chinese as possible. What do you think you can do?”

“Hello Miss Samantha. I’ve been talking with everyone. I’m going to try and pull your eyes tight and give you a slant to your eyes. None of us have ever done it before so it may or may not work. But I need to wash and shampoo your hair immediately. It takes so long to dry you know.”

Olivia led Sam to the wash basin, wrapped a white plastic cape around him, tucked a few tissues around his neck and laid him back into the basin. “Why Chinese Miss Samantha?”

“Just something different. I found this really nice dress with the Mandarin collar and I wanted to wear it. Since it looks very Chinese, I was wondering what else I could do.” Sam paused for a minute then said, “To tell you the truth Olivia, I’m new to all of this girl stuff, and I guess I’m enjoying it. I want to try new and different things. The Goth makeover was fun and so I want to see what else is out there. It’s kind of fun.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Then the topic changed to the upcoming dinner party. The salon girls were still totally excited about it. Olivia shampooed and added crá¨me rinse to Sam’s hair. She tried to dry it as much as possible with towels, and she even used her hand dryer a little before setting his hair on big hollow rollers.

With Sam’s hair up in rollers Olivia started his makeover. She used a slightly lighter than normal foundation. “We not going to make you into a Geisha girl, but we’re going to use that as a model. We’ll add some pink around your eyebrows and eyes to help with the look. I am going to shape your eyes to make them look much wider and hopefully narrow.”

‘Then we need to minimize your nose. The Chinese have small noses. Have you ever considered a nose job?”

“Not really.”

“Well, it’s worth a thought. And bright round dots of pink blush on your cheeks. I’ll be honest Miss Samantha, I don’t know if this is going to come out very well.”

“That’s ok, Sam replied. “I like the idea of trying something new. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You are an adventurous girl, Miss Samantha.”

“It’s easy when you’re not really a girl.” That stopped Olivia for a few moments. She didn’t know what to say, but Sam came to the rescue. “It’s ok Olivia. I know what I am, and I’m beginning to accept it. The truth will set you free. Maybe I will be set free.”

Actually, the opposite was going to happen.

Olivia arrived at Sam’s lips. “Bright red for your new lips. They look mighty sexy Miss Samantha.”

“Thank you. That was my hope. I’m hoping that Lisa will find them so sexy that she gets real … well I should show some decorum here shouldn’t I?”

“But of course Miss Samantha.” Olivia finished the make over and admitted, “I don’t like it. I’m sorry Miss Samantha, but it didn’t come out like I had hoped.”

“Let me see.” Olivia turned Sam to the mirror. “You’re right. It’s not as Chinese as I had hoped, but it is kind of sexy. I’ll take it gladly.”

“Really?”

“Most real. Now then, what are you going to do with my hair?”

“You have to wait and see, because it is too hard for me to describe. But I promise, it will come out better than the makeup.”

“Then I am in good hands” Sam said. Olivia smiled; she liked this boy.

Olivia turned the back of Sam’s hair under at the nape and puffed it out like a low hanging bun. Then she pulled the front of his hair back over the top and pinned it in place. She left a large amount of the front hair, and primarily front side hair, so that she could pull it tightly past and above the ear. She was hoping that this would help pull Sam’s eyes a little tighter. But alas, Olivia would have had to pull too hard to make much of a difference in the slant of Sam’s eyes. Then she used the ends of that front hair to pin in lots of big, loopy curls. And voila! Sam had his updo.

Olivia pinned a small doily in the back to finish everything. She handed Sam the mirror and waited for his response. “Olivia, do you still have those diamond hair sticks?”

“I’m sure we do.”

“What do you think if we replaced the doily with the sticks?”

“Let’s see.” A few minutes later Olivia stepped back and said, “Excellent idea Miss Samantha. You have a discerning eye for style.”

Sam laughed. “I have a boy’s eye, but sometimes he knows what he would like to see in his girlfriend. I was lucky. Thank you Olivia, you did a lovely job. Now I need to rush back home and prepare for Lisa. See you tomorrow. Dark and Goth, remember.”

“Dark and Goth. Thanks Miss Samantha.”

Chas opened the rear door to allow Sam to step out. “How soon Miss Maggie?” he asked into his cell phone..

“I’d say an hour. The traffic is heavier than I anticipated. Do you have everything ready?”

“Not yet, but I will by the time you get here. Bye,” and he closed up his cell phone. He took his dress from Chas and rushed upstairs. Sam slipped into some clean lingerie and hooked some suntan stockings to his corset garters. He pulled on a heavily padded hip girdle over the garters, trapping them underneath. If he had to go the ladies room it would be a cumbersome affair. But then beauty was often a tough and nasty business. It wasn’t for sissies. And Sam needed more hip with this dress.

Sam wasn’t sure what to do for shoes. He was going to wear 4 inch heels — he loved 4 inch heels — but he wasn’t sure what color to wear. So he minimized the color and went with strap beige heels. He could ask for a female opinion later.

He put on his very own diamond earrings and was about to add his “engagement” ring when he realized that he didn’t have it. Lisa hadn’t given it back. He would have to make a point of asking for it back. It was his after all!

He spritzed on “their” perfume and prepared his purse. In front of the mirror he carefully inspected his appearance and did a few pirouettes to check everything. It was then that he realized the skirt was tight all the way down to the hem. He wouldn’t be doing any long jumping tonight. But he … kind of … maybe liked his image. Not exactly. It was the first time that he ever questioned his fashion sense. This was the first time that he had tried to put together a new look for himself, without following a recipe — like Goth.

It was a sign of growth for Sam and whether he recognized it or not, he was becoming more interested in the fun of style and fashion. Sam wasn’t totally ready for new looks like this, but he would be soon. In just a few weeks he would begin his fashion studies in earnest. It would be full time under the tutelage of an experienced master. And it would all be in French. Sam was in for the thrill of his life … and the shock!

Sam grabbed his purse and a small fan which he was sure would be popular on the dance floor, and sashayed over to Lisa’s room. He checked on her clothes to make sure everything was perfect. Lisa was a getting a blue Chinese dress with a mandatory Mandarin collar.

Sam sashayed downstairs and practiced his over the top strutting. It wasn’t exactly a smart habit to get into, but Sam liked playing the sex doll once in a while. Chas was waiting downstairs. “Hey Chas, waiting for Miss Maggie?”

“And Miss Lisa. You’re looking very nice Miss Samantha.”

“Thank you Chas. Are you ready for tomorrow’s dinner party? Do you have your black nail polish and lipstick?”

Chas laughed. “Yes I do. Janice is going to help me with them tomorrow. You’ve made some people happy, Miss Samantha.”

“How so?”

“Jennifer is just thrilled to be coming to a dinner party. She wants to show off her new boyfriend. And the girls here think it will be fun to dress a little sexy with their Goth uniforms. And I even heard that the girls at the salon are excited to be invited. You’ve made some friends Miss Samantha.”

Sam smiled. “I like them all, Chas. I hope they have a nice time. And how about you Chas? Are you looking forward to the party?”

“Other than the dress-up, it’s another job Miss Samantha.” Chas was too old and too long in the real world to get excited by random acts of kindness. At least that was his usual demeanor. Today was slightly different. Chas was quiet for a few moments then said, “How about you Miss Samantha?”

“I’m looking forward to it. But I’m nervous because it is my first dinner party. I hope everything goes ok.”

“I’m sure it will. But what I really meant to ask is, are you happy here?”

“What do you mean; like living here?”

“Like living as Miss Samantha.”

“Oh,” and he paused to think. “It’s been interesting, I’ll give it that. And just between us I must say that some of it has been fun. But it’s only temporary. When we return from Paris I’ll return to my boy clothes and spend the summer as Miss Mona’s intern.”

Chas slowly shook his head. “No Miss Samantha, you will not.”

“What?” he asked with a bit of curiosity and a bit of foreboding.

“I have said too much already, Miss Samantha. No matter what happens, be honest with yourself.” He paused again and then added, “And remember, do what makes you happy; not what makes others happy. You deserve that much.” Chas walked out the front door and closed it behind him, effectively cutting off anymore dialog.

“Well that was cryptic as hell,” Sam said aloud. “What in the world does it mean?” Sam found a chair and waited for his inamorata to arrive. A while later Sam’s phone rang.

“We’re coming up the drive,” Maggie said.

Sam took his place in the middle of the foyer. He liked the way Lisa greeted him last time and he wanted to replay that scene. Sam enjoyed playing the demure sex kitten for his returning tigress. He would be receiving her affection, attention and compliments while playing the shy, innocent, wide-eyed and apprehensive girly-boy. Yes, he was going to be the girl. It would be like a movie or fairy tale, only the sexual roles would be reversed. Sam found this exciting, but he truly believed that he was role playing. It was all an elaborate play with temporary role reversals that would titillate both of them and lead to an exciting evening of romance and hot sex. At least that was his fancy.

As usual, Sam failed to realize how wrong he was. This was not to be a temporary fairy tale, and the roles were not reversed. Sam had been manipulated into his future role as Mrs. Lisa Hawthorne; concubine, hand maiden and executive secretary of Miss. Lisa Hawthorne. This was practice for his new position. And to make matters worse, Sam would be getting no hot sex this evening. On the plus side of the ledger, Sam wasn’t unhappy playing the role of the sexy Samantha.

This evening’s show was every bit as good as the last one. “Oh my,” the returning mistress whispered when she spied her young courtesan. The pretty epicene courtesan fluttered his lashes and demurely averted his eyes from his regal Lady. The noble princess slowly circled her young prey, breathing in the scent and pheromones from her voluptuous girly-boy. She observed the elaborate hairstyle and touched it lightly and gave an appreciative moan. She caressed the porcelain skin on her teenager’s neck as she whispered in his ear, “You’re beautiful beyond words,” and sent shivers of anticipation cascading down his corseted body. Then she playfully batted the expensive earring she had bought her young kitten, and set it to swaying seductively.

The teen-age boy rolled his narrow shoulders but continued to avert his eyes. He kept his hands locked behind his back in a defenseless posture, totally surrendering his young, effeminate body and soul to his regal Lady. The noble princess finished her inspection tour and returned to face her young courtesan. She placed a single finger under the child’s chin and lifted it with the most tender touch imaginable. He raised his head but kept his eyes lowered, continuing to play the shy and demure sex kitten. The princess desired the taste of her boy’s lipstick coated lips, and she tilted her beautiful visage slightly to one side as she slowly closed the distance between their ruby red lips. The effeminate boy raised his eyes and despite his innermost reservations, tilted his head to meet the on-rushing lips of his beloved princess. With eyes wide open and his trembling lips parted in anticipation of his Lady’s gentle kiss, he remained frozen in space and time awaiting her initiative.

The beautiful princess stopped just short of the boy’s collagen enhanced lips and gently touched them with the tip of her tongue. The concupiscent boy’s eyes closed and his hands reached for the hips of his beloved mistress, as if he were bold enough to pull her to him. His rose petal soft hands reached their target and gently rested upon his Lady’s hips, as he leaned closer to her lips, begging for that irresistible kiss that he so longed for. Hoping for the approval and permission that he desperately desired from his mistress, tigress and sensual lover, he begged to be magnanimously accepted into her heart and loins.

And after enduring the pangs of his lust and desire, she finally rewarded him; gently placing her lips upon his. The princess gently gripped his elbows and held him in space and time while their souls exchanged the gift of love. Her love for his. The love of a beautiful young courtesan, and effeminate teenage boy met the love of his noble born princess; the regal Lady that would make him complete.

“You are one hot babe,” the smiling princess said to her pretty chattel. “Do you have something planned?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do I need to dress?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Have you laid out my ensemble?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She placed another tender and gentle kiss upon the boy’s lipstick coated lips. “You make a precious courtesan, my darling Samantha. I shall return.”

Sam watched his princess glide up the staircase before he wrapped his arms about himself and spun in place, his head thrown back and his eyes looking to the heavens and chandelier. With less than a single spin he promptly fell on his callipygian asset. Chas was standing by the door looking at him and grinning. Sam did not even blush. He held his hand up and waited for Chas to come rescue him. As Chas pulled Sam up on his heels he said, “Perhaps ballet lessons will help. I guess you two are in love.” Then Chas returned to his inconspicuous position by the door, waiting for his two charges to return for their carriage ride to the restaurant.

Lisa took a little extra time to make sure she presented herself properly to her adoring, young puppy. She applied a dark eye shadow, curled her lashes and applied a heavy dose of mascara, then used extra liner to bring the edge of the eye shape out into a cat eye. It was the best she could do to try and give herself an oriental eye look. To compliment the Chinese look, she too switched to a redder than red lipstick, a bit too much pink blush, and some red shadow around her brows.

And like her effeminate boy waiting downstairs, she too was unhappy with the final effort. But what could she do? She slipped into her blue dress, plumped up her ample bosom inside her push-up bra, stepped into her heels and dropped four extra tampons in her purse. The reason her effeminate inamorato was going to be disappointed this evening was due to a heavier than normal first day flow from Lisa’s period. “Samantha is going to have some of those blue balls tonight,” she announced to the mirror. “Should I allow him to masturbate?” she asked herself with a wicked grin. “Or should I be generous and help him? Let’s see how we feel about this later. For now, you are one hot girl Lisa Hawthorne. Let’s go drive our sexy young boy crazy!”

Lisa returned to the boy who was wearing a dress and looking oh so pretty, and she offered her arm to him. “Come Samantha, I am starving.” Sam took her arm and followed her to the limousine. Chas drove them to a nice Chinese restaurant where they ordered sizzling rice with shrimp soup for an appetizer. They stared into each other’s eyes as they ate their entrées of shrimp and peas and shared a single Tsing Tao beer. For desert they chewed and chewed their way through tough, spongy rice cakes.

At the conclusion of dinner the Lady asked the boy, “Do you have something else planned for this evening, jeune fille?”

“What did you call me?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s French for young girl.”

“You know French?”

“It’s passable. Someone has to be able to order dinner for us in Paris,” she grinned. Lisa changed the subject slightly and asked, “Would you consider studying abroad?”

“I’ve never thought about it. Actually, it was never within my means, so I never considered it.”

“Would you now?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Well … you know that I am going to grad school. And I just thought, maybe while I am there you could be learning French while studying in Paris.”

“Paris? Studying what?”

“Political science of course. It might be interesting to study it from a different perspective.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course Samantha. Anything is possible now. You can do whatever you want.”

“Boy, I’m not too sure about that. It would be a long way from you.”

“I would come visit occasionally. Any excuse to go to Paris would be fine with me.”

Sam was silent for a minute or two. “I’m not sure. Even if I wanted to I would need too much help just getting around, learning the language and … just surviving.”

“It’s something to think about, Samantha. It’s totally up to you. We could get someone to help you … survive. She could be both a body guard and tutor.” Lisa’s mention of a bodyguard was an indirect message that Sam could live as Samantha. Again Sam had to reflect on the offer. “Think about it ok?”

“Ok.” Sam had been caught totally off guard.

“So do you have anything else planned for tonight?”

“A movie. Would you prefer a chick flick on Earth or a chick flick on another planet?”

“Which movie are you referring to?”

“Avatar.”

“Sure. I’ve never been to a 3D, is there a 3D theater near by?”

“Yep. We should get going.”

“I have to run to the girl’s room first. Come with me.” Lisa had to change her tampon, and she wanted to watch Samantha freshen his makeup in the ladies room. She loved watching her little boy practicing to be a jeune fille.

Chas handed the girls off to an evening chaperone … who also knew karate. He drove the girls to their movie. The movie was long, the 3D and special effects were awesome and in the end it was a chick flick — the “girl” got her “guy”. With Sam once again on Lisa’s arm, she walked them to the little girl’s room and took care of necessities. Sam was primping in front of the mirror and Lisa stepped behind him and fondled his elaborate hairstyle. “This is nice,” she whispered. “Very feminine ... and sexy.” Then she asked, “Do we have anything else planned?”

“Well, I thought we might go to a … club?”

“Really?”

“Well, I know you like clubbing and dancing and I could use some more practice. Don’t you agree?”

“Do you think you need more practice?”

“I can’t dance worth a hoot. Yes, I would like you to help me.” And then Sam remembered, “Do you still have my engagement ring?”

“Yes.”

“Can I have it back?”

“Are you an Indian giver?” She was smiling as she handed it over to Sam. “If it makes you feel more comfortable then you should have it. But you know I like it too. Can I wear it sometimes?”

“Really?”

“Sure, why not? It’s a great rock. I’ll tell you what; while in New York can I have it for dinner and you take it for dancing? We can both practice being engaged.” Left unsaid was Lisa’s need to appear engaged when out with Jeff’s friends and family.

“What about Paris?” he asked mischievously.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little hair style about that. It’s too far away.”

Sam grinned. “Maybe …” he thought to himself.

The chauffeur dropped them off at a local club and walked in about five minutes after the girls. The club made him pay a cover charge, but he would be reimbursed later. He ordered a coke and watched the girls from afar. Lisa took Sam on the dance floor and they discovered that Sam’s dress made dancing almost impossible. It was tight, rather long and as far as dancing was concerned, it could have been a hobble skirt. Sam couldn’t do much more than stand in one place and sway to the music. Actually it worked out well for Sam. Even a clumsy boy can successfully imitate a girl under those circumstances.

They were propositioned by boys several times for dancing, and Lisa deflected all of the advances. “See how it’s done, Samantha? You can take the lead in New York.”

“Oh joy.”

Saturday was going to be a long day, so they called an end to their evening at midnight. Back home Sam’s anticipation was getting the better of him, and he was getting very horny. His tucked penis was engorged and painful. Lisa had not yet popped his bubble and he was expecting a carnal encounter with his mistress and duenna when they climbed the stairs up to their boudoirs.

Sam tried to lead Lisa into his (Harriet’s) bedroom. “Not there,” Lisa thought. “I don’t want to be on camera.”

“No, come to my room Samantha.”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered in a whisper. He knew the rules of the boudoir; Sam must always agree with his kinky lady.

Lisa closed the door and took Sam in her arms. She gently kissed his lovely lips and caressed his cheek with a finger nail. “Samantha dear, I am sorry to disappoint you tonight, but my period started today. We can’t have sex.”

His silly grin drooped all the way to his chin. “Oh.”

“I would still like to share my bed with you though. I suspect that you are going to have a blue night, and I don’t want you having a wet dream and ejaculating all over my clean sheets. So I think we need to empty you somehow.”

Sam was thinking blow job. “Ok,” he agreed.

“Strip down to your corset, and find a negligee to wear. I need to find something.” Lisa went looking through drawers until she found a glass vial.

“Is that a test tube?” Sam asked.

“No silly, it is for flowers. But it will serve our purposes. Go clean off your makeup while I get ready for bed also. When you’re ready I’ll help you with your hair.

“No lipstick tonight?” Sam asked.

“We’re not having sex tonight — just relief for you, my pretty Samantha.”

Sam went and washed his face and Lisa changed into her negligee. Lisa plucked the hair sticks from Sam’s sexy style and she picked out all of his hair pins. Sam shook his hair loose in his best come hither manner. Lisa really did want to come hither all over her petite filly. But alas, not tonight. Lisa took over the bathroom, cleaned up and changed her tampon. She returned to Sam with a bottle and a pink ribbon.

“What is all that?” Sam asked.

“Just a little something to add to the fun my pet. Please lie on the bed and bring your legs up to your chest. You can use your hands to hold them up. I want full access to your love stick here.” Lisa knelt against Sam’s bottom facing him and with his erect penis lying fully exposed before her. “The vial is yours, and when you erupt I want you to squirt your semen into the vial. Ok?”

All of a sudden Sam didn’t like this. Everything looked too close to the setup the doctor used to milk him. He had to know, “You’re not going to milk me are you?”

“Is that what you want?” Lisa acted surprised.

“No! Please don’t.”

“Then I won’t. That wasn’t my plan. Do you have some other request?”

Sam decided it was best to let Lisa do what she was planning. “No, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Fine. Please lie back and enjoy, but make sure to catch that semen. We don’t want to stain that beautiful corset you wear.” She unscrewed the bottle of baby lotion and poured a small bit in her hand. She rubbed the baby oil on Sam’s penis and began stroking him.

“Oh wow,” Sam said. “Is that ever smooth. What is it?”

“Baby oil.”

“Baby oil? They don’t actually squeeze down babies and make it out of them, do they?” He grinned at Lisa as she stroked him. She pulled his penis backwards towards her until it couldn’t go any further and actually hurt Sam. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It was a weak joke,” he chuckled.

Lisa continued to stroke her boy. “Make sure you catch it all, you don’t want to soil your corset.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Lisa pinched the head of his penis, then stroked the underside with her nail. She switched hands and made sure both of her hands were lubricated with the baby oil, and rubbed and fondled his scrotum and testicles. “Tell me when you are about to cum, Samantha. Give me as much warning as you can.”

A minute later Sam announced, “I’m getting close.”

Lisa began squeezing tighter around the shaft of Sam’s penis with one hand, and with her other lubricated hand she quickly shoved a finger up his ass. Sam bucked and squeezed down on Lisa’s finger just as he began squirting fluid from his penis. He held the vial over the head of his cock as Lisa stroked and squirted fluid out of his penis and into the vial. “Catch it all,” she commanded.

Sam’s hips bucked as he tried to stay in rhythm with Lisa’s stroking and she gradually milked all of the semen from his penis. “Keep your legs up and I’ll get a tissue to wipe you off. Don’t spill that semen.” Sam lay still, holding his legs up while Lisa retrieved a box of tissues and cleaned off both Sam and her hands.

After the cleanup, Lisa retook her position and slid up against Sam’s crotch. She took his balls and penis in her hand and gently played with them, feeling them go flaccid as she looked at Sam. She took her pink ribbon and tied it around his penis and balls. “You have to sleep with that on. I want to see it in the morning. Understand?

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good, so how was that?” she asked.

“Nice.”

“Great. Now you know what to do with your semen. Please go ahead.”

“What?” he tried to ask in an innocent voice.

“The correct answer is yes ma’am. Please repeat after me, yes ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am,” and Sam held the vial to his lips and tipped it up. The semen slowly flowed down the inside of the vial and into his mouth.

“That’s better Samantha dear. That looks delicious. Do you like it?”

“No.”

Sam had drained about half of it. The rest was hanging to the inside surface of the vial. “Please let me have it,” she said. Sam handed her the vial and she tipped it up to her lips. She had to tongue some out of the vial. She licked her lips and looked pensive. “What does it taste like to you?”

“Yuck.”

“Samantha, if you don’t work with me here, if you don’t cooperate with me, what incentive do I have to work with you? Why would I ever want to do this again?”

Sam got the message. “It might have a bit of a metallic taste,” he said.

Lisa licked the mouth of the vial again. “Maybe. But I’m getting tired and I really want to go to sleep. Are you clean enough?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Lisa tossed the tissues in the waste basket, set the vial on her night stand and turned off the light. She cuddled up next to Sam and French kissed him while she reached down and checked on his pink ribbon. “Good night Samantha. Sweet dreams.”

CHAPTER 40

The next morning their positions were reversed and Sam was spooned against Lisa’s back. His hand was over her and his fingers found her nipple poking through her negligee. Sam began caressing her nipple when she said, “Yuck!”

Sam pulled back in surprise and asked, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s my tampon. Excuse me please,” and she gingerly left their warm bed and waddled off to the bath. Sam heard the toilet flush and then the shower come on. He guessed she wouldn’t be returning to bed. He remembered his ribbon, and he tightened and straightened it out. Then he removed his corset and ripped off one hundred sit ups.

When he walked into the bathroom with his flaccid penis sporting his pretty pink ribbon he had to wait for Lisa to exist the shower. He gave her a sexy pose and waited for her to notice him. “I’m sorry Samantha. I thought we might be able to play with your ribbon this morning, but my period ruined all that. At least let me remove it.” Lisa made a big production of fondling Sam’s balls and cock as she untied the ribbon. She gave him a gentle kiss and left him.

The girls changed into … wait … guess! Riding gear! Lisa wore her jodhpurs and Sam put on his riding skirt. Sam decided to show off and he cooked breakfast for the two of them. “I’m impressed,” Lisa confessed. “You’re becoming very domestic Samantha. How sweet! You will make someone a wonderful wife.”

Sam grimaced. “I’d rather hope that I make you my wife.”

Lisa smiled and batted her lashes at Sam. “Perhaps we can reciprocate for one another. Might you like that?” She batted her lashes and gave Sam a sexy pout. To elicit the answer she wanted she inserted a finger in her lipstick lined mouth, and slowly and seductively pulled it out. She continued to give Sam her most sexy come hither look.

Sam giggled, but refused to answer. When Lisa realized that she wasn’t getting an answer she answered for him, “I’ll take that as a yes.” Sam secretly found that proposition interesting.

At the stable they ran into a non-stop talking Jennifer. She was totally excited about the evening’s party. “I’ve got an awesome dress picked out. It’s leather. And I’m wearing a studded collar and get this … boots with spurs!”

“Be careful with those spurs,” Lisa warned. “You don’t want to snag someone’s hose, or puncture a leg.”

“I will,” Jennifer promised. “And I can’t wait to introduce my boyfriend to you. Will he be impressed.”

“What does he do?” Sam asked.

“Horses, what else? And on weekends I barrel race against him.”

“Who wins?”

“Me of course,” she bragged.

“Is he coming in Goth also?”

“Of course. Leather and full makeup. I wish I could make him as cute as you Miss Samantha. But he’s not built for girly stuff. Too bad.”

Sam shrugged off her comments and smiled. How could he continue to whine about such comments when he was wearing a bra and panties? “I’m looking forward to meeting him, Jennifer.”

After riding, the two girls returned to the house and Sam’s computer. He wanted to show Lisa his latest Samantha pictures, and a few sites from Paris. “I’m really looking forward to Paris,” Sam said.

“I’m looking forward to Samantha and Lisa in Paris.”

“That’s what I meant,” Sam said. “I definitely want to be going with you. Do you know where we are staying?”

“Of course; the company condo. Four bedrooms, three of which we will ignore, a kitchen we will also ignore and a balcony view of the Eiffel Tower. It’s just a short walk to the Eiffel Tower. And Miss Michelle says there is a wonderful sidewalk café across the street. Have you ever had Grand Marnier crepes?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither. But Miss Michelle says we must have them on our very first day, because we will want them every day after that.”

“I can’t wait,” Sam said.

“One week Samantha dear. We shop in New York City this week and come back on Thursday. Friday afternoon we get our hair set and then fly over that night. We arrive in mid morning and have a full day of sunlight to help us stay awake and adjust to the time zone. We can sleep on the jet, and then finish our hair and makeup before we land. We will be rested, pretty and primed to enjoy the City of Light. Look out Paris, here come the Hawthorne Girls!”

“Woo hoo!”

Lisa and Sam spent the afternoon preparing for the party. Maggie helped but Mona totally ignored the preparation. She looked upon the situation as an opportunity for Sam to see first hand the problems with coordinating a large party. And it was going to be a large party. Miss Mona’s dinner parties usually had 10 to 15 guests. Sam had invited almost forty people, but they knew upfront that 10 or 15 already had prior commitments. It was mostly the cousins that would miss the party. But that still left 30 guests.

Thirty would be too many for the large dining room, so tables were set up in the large hall. Thirty guests was also too many for the normal receiving party in the salon. So the large hall would handle pre and post dinner receptions. At least it made decorating easier. And Sam wanted to go crazy on black bunting, UV lights, bats and spiders and medieval posters. It was amazing how much paraphernalia could be found in a Goth shop. Sam had never been a Goth fan and so he was surprised at what a big industry it was. Sam was going to enjoy himself, but he still wasn’t going to convert to Goth. Sam was getting into Samantha, and Samantha was into red and prissy.

Maggie pushed as many questions as possible on Sam. He had to make decisions on food preparation, table settings, and timing and order of appetizers and hors d’oeurves. Maggie did help with the really technical decisions on when different items went in the ovens. But Sam learned a great deal that afternoon. Late in the afternoon he changed into his dress.

His Goth dress had a red bodice with a black skirt that fell to his ankles. The red bodice was V shaped and dropped over the waist in front. The neckline was square and it had wide straps over the shoulder with no sleeves. Over the entire dress was a black lace mesh including long sleeves that had large cuffs that draped down at the wrists.

Sam and Lisa painted each other’s nails with an ultra dark purple polish. Their shared engagement ring was set aside for various rings with skulls and spiders. Lisa gave Sam a cameo choker to add to his costume. It wasn’t Goth, but it looked pretty. And as usual Sam finished it off with 4 inch heels. Sam hated taller heels, they hurt his insteps, and shorter heels left him too … short.

The reception was set to start at 6:00. Stevie and her date arrived at 4:00 to do makeovers for all the Hawthornes. Stevie introduced her beau Timothy to Lisa and Sam. Timothy was … odd looking. He was six foot tall and anorexic. He had long hair, a large Adams apple, and fingernails that were too long for a guy. Tim was totally into Goth. He had black leather clothes, spiked bracelets and choker, chain and skull earrings, and the full Goth makeup.

Sam wasn’t too impressed, but Stevie pulled Sam aside and said, “Isn’t he great? He’s really into Goth. We go to the clubs all the time. And believe it or not he’s a commercial artist. He makes over $200 grand a year!”

“Wow!” Sam answered.

Timothy really was into Goth, and he wasn’t a bad makeup artist. He helped Stevie with the makeovers. Stevie and Timothy did Lisa and Sam’s makeup first. Then Miss Mona and Miss Maggie were given their make up. And later, Miss Grace and Miss Eunice arrived for their makeover. Everyone was all Goth and “Ultra Cool” as Stevie described them.

By 6 PM everyone was ready to greet their guests. It didn’t take long for people to arrive. Jennifer was there at 1 second past 6. She brought her barrel racing friend Josh. Josh was a barrel himself. Not much taller than Sam, he was twice as wide and probably double Sam’s weight. He would have made a better friar than Goth boy, but Jennifer and he had obviously put a lot of work into his costume. And Jennifer was just wonderful with her spurs, spikes and … whip! Jennifer looked down-right dangerous!

None of the salon girls believed in being fashionably late. Olivia brought a rather handsome looking man who was as tall as she was. Susan brought a female date, which Sam thought was a bit odd. Sam had never seen the girl before, but she had that “salon skin”. Sam figured she worked in one of the shops or was a receptionist. Greta had a pretty looking date that looked very comfortable in his Goth makeup. He acted a bit swishy and Sam wondered if he might be a closet gay.

Tiny Gina came with a tall Thai boy. Neither was very good at Goth. Perhaps Thai and Goth didn’t go together, or maybe they just weren’t into Goth. Bridgette was the last of the salon girls to arrive. She had a dashing young man at her side. And young was the key word. He had a baby face that would have looked nice in regular makeup as well as his Goth. Two girls couldn’t make it. Sam knew Florence wouldn’t be coming because her date did not play well with Samantha or Miss Mona. And anyone that didn’t play well with Miss Mona best not show up. And Jillian had a previous engagement in Los Angeles. Jillian was acting in a porn movie, although she didn’t share that information with Sam.

Fourteen cousins and aunts were able to make the soiree. Aunt Michelle brought her concubine Donna and “Aunt” Serena brought her wife and concubine Mardelle. Mardell was a petite and very sweet woman. Among the cousins was Karin and her boy-wife and concubine Gail, and Elizabeth with her boy-wife and concubine Isabella. Both Karin and Elizabeth belonged to Serena. Aunt Joyce couldn’t make the party, but she had two children attend. Christine was accompanied by her boy-wife and concubine Chloe, and Pamela brought her wife and concubine Rebecca. And finally, much to Sam’s pleasure, cousin Janice brought her boy-wife and concubine, the beautiful Gisela. And Gisela looked absolutely beautiful in her Goth costume. What a beautiful “girl”!

With Lisa, Samantha, Mona, Maggie, Grace and Eunice the total came to 32 participants. It was a large group but Miss Maggie’s staff handled everything with their normal excellence. Practice and experience make things much easier, and the maids had no trouble with the excessive hors d’oeurves and drinks. The salon girls had all taken Maggie’s warning to heart and very little alcohol was consumed. Instead, the party relied on intelligent and stimulating conversation. And as it turned out, Sam was very good at the conversation part.

Normally Sam was not a good conversationalist, but this was his party and he had to make an extra effort. He did very well, talking about his shopping experiences and his new-found expertise on Goth, although Stevie and Timothy were the true experts. Sam talked about riding with Jennifer. He talked makeup and dresses with the salon girls, which was very enlightening. Sam chatted about being a boy buying girls clothes and wearing them. And he openly discussed his feeling and emotions the first few times the girls gave him a makeover. Sam’s openness was surprising to everyone, but the salon girls all knew the truth, so maybe that was why he felt safe talking about those experiences with them. It was as if he felt he might be one with the girls. And he talked Paris with anyone that would listen. Paris was certainly on Sam’s mind. And he especially enjoyed talking about Paris with Miss Gisela.

Miss Mona and the others carefully observed Sam throughout the evening festivities. They were pleased with his ability to mingle and with his aptitude at keeping the party organized and moving. Maggie certainly helped on the organization part, and the maids were so good they could have handled everything with no supervision, but Sam still deserved praise for his first party. The boy-hostess did a very nice job decorating; especially the UV lights. Everyone liked to walk through them and look at their glowing nail polish or other paraphernalia.

Yes, it was a successful party, but number one on every woman’s mind was Samantha himself. They wanted to see how feminine he acted, how he walked and talked and sat and ate. They watched for his strut and those sinuous movements. And Samantha did not disappoint. He looked gorgeous with his tightly corseted waist and a “corseted” dress that stressed his tiny waist. Samantha seemed as comfortable in tall heels as any real girl they had ever seen. He could glide, walk or strut whenever he wanted; and with stunning effect. And at other times, he could turn, bend and lean with a grace that Miss Grace called “sinuous”. Samantha had his pretty auburn hair pulled back in a pony tail that moved with the same feminine grace as his body. Genetic girls took years to move a ponytail as sensuously as Samantha did, and it didn’t even appear as if he knew he was doing it. Sam was born to be the pretty and feminine Samantha.

His voice was getting more feminine sounding. Coupled with his facial expressions and physical mannerisms such as his hand and shoulder movements, his voice seemed normal and female enough to go without notice. And he was no longer using his throat spray. His face was still a little too square and sharp, but facial feminization was on the horizon and that would handle that little problem. A smaller, upturned nose would do wonders for his attractiveness. He was going to be very pretty and utterly hot.

Miss Grace was also interested in how Samantha interacted with Gisela. Miss Grace thought the two of them would be the diamonds in the family. Gisela had turned out to be not only the prettiest epicene concubine in the family, but he was totally immersed and assimilated into his obedient female role. No one enjoyed his life and position as much as Gisela. Miss Grace thought that eventually Gisela could be another mentor and friend to Samantha. With Gisela’s native beauty and femininity, he would have no problem capturing and guiding Samantha’s fancy.

Everyone was pleased with Samantha’s performance and progress. But no one was as proud as Lisa. She constantly stopped by her mother and grandmother and bragged about something Samantha did or said. Love can come with blinders sometimes, but Lisa didn’t care. And Samantha truly did turn in a wondrous performance. Lisa had reason to be proud. Her discovery had successfully been transformed into a sweet, effeminate transvestite. Next he would be transformed into a soft and feminine pre-op transsexual, which is how he would spend the rest of his enchanted life.

And that was the single most important reason for the party and everyone’s attention. In a matter of 4 weeks, Samantha would be turned over to Mistress Ann. This was their last chance to be absolutely positive that they were making the right decision with Sam. Sam had passed numerous psychological tests, observations and discussions and everyone was sure that Sam would succeed as Lisa’s demure and pretty, she-male concubine. Everything they learned about Sam said he was a girl trapped inside a male’s body. Even if Sam couldn’t recognize that on a conscious level, on a subconscious level he knew it.

Sam’s French mistress would spend almost two years teaching him to accept his feminine lifestyle and role as concubine to Lisa. The Hawthorne matrons did not want to spend those two years of time and equity only to have a failure on their hands. But Sam would not be a failure. He would be beautiful, he would be obedient, he would be talented and he would be happy. Sam passed his last test.

In bed that evening, with her arm wrapped over her negligee clad boy, Lisa thought about his final steps. Lisa was excited about the promise that Sam held, but she was going to miss him. She didn’t like the idea of having to live without Sam. And she did not like the idea of living as Jeff Winter’s wife. Even if it was temporary, being a submissive wife to a male chafed against her option of nirvana with Samantha. Samantha would be her submissive wife; dressing her in the morning, preparing and serving her meals, taking care of her house and children, meeting her at the door after work, bathing her in the evening and then sexually satisfying her in their love nest at night. That is the life that Lisa wanted.

Lisa tightened her hug on Sam and dreamed of taking care of him. She would send him to the salon everyday and keep him looking beautiful and stunning. Sam would never go casual, but would either be dressed as her serving maid, or dressed elegantly in sexy dresses with million dollar jewelry. He would be feminine, demure, sexy and real. Sam would not be allowed to become aloof and snobby. Everyone would like him and envy him. Lisa would strut into restaurants and plays with Sam on her arm, and all eyes would turn towards them. Mouths would fall open and conversations would stop.

It was a magnificent dream, but Lisa knew that some parts would have to be minimized or even hidden in public. Their true relationship couldn’t be fully exposed in public. She would strut Sam into public situations, but usually not as her wife; Sam would have to be her executive secretary. But she could still take Sam’s arm on occasion. They could look cozy and still not spark lesbian rumors. Her children by a previous marriage would protect her from nasty rumors and political repercussions. People would accept her sexual identity with no problem. And they could drool over Samantha and envy Lisa for having such an exquisitely fine creature in her embrace so often.

Lisa would have no trouble traveling and living with her right hand girl, her executive secretary, political strategist and girl-Friday. No problem. They could take adjoining rooms in the best hotels; but of course always with connecting doors, for late evening consultations. Yeah, consultation between her legs! “My god you are going to be a beautiful boy, Samantha,” she whispered to herself. “My beautiful girl with that little boy attachment — how delectable.” Lisa finally fell asleep with her arm over her beautiful dulcinea, courtesan and future wife.

Sunday morning they went riding one last time. On Monday morning they would fly up to New York with Aunt Michelle on the company jet. They would again stay at Jeff’s apartment, but this time they would share a bedroom and bed every night. They would be inseparable for the next 4 weeks. This would be Lisa’s last opportunity to live with her effeminate inamorato; before he permanently became her feminine inamorata.

After these 4 weeks Lisa would have to settle for her studies and dates with Jeff. It wasn’t far from New Haven to New York, and she would be expected to be spending her time with her fiancée and then her husband. She would spend her time at their apartment in her own room. With the exception of one night, Lisa and Jeff would never share a bedroom or bed. She would decorate his apartment and give it a woman’s touch. She would join him for a public dinner once per week. She would take him with her to the opera or a Broadway show. She would wear her/Sam’s faux engagement ring and then Jeff’s wedding ring. She would hold hands and give him an occasional peck on the cheek in public. They would be the epitome of a perfect couple.

And then Lisa would retire to her bed and dream of her opulent gem studying under Mistress Ann in Paris. She would count the days until her next trip to Paris to visit her true love and secret fiancée. They would speak French and hold hands and discretely kiss in public and go to salons and shop in top end boutiques and dance in high energy clubs. The time to their graduation would crawl along but the day would eventually come when Lisa could bring her boy home and marrying him in front of her family.

Full of daydreams, Lisa reached the stable, quickly saddled Cinnamon and rode out to the jumping paddock. Jennifer helped Sam saddle Abigail as her boyfriend worked out in the yard. Jennifer wanted some privacy with Sam. “Miss Samantha, I want to thank you for the party last night. Mike and I had a wonderful time.”

“I am most happy that you could make it Jennifer. I enjoyed having you there.”

Jennifer produced a small box from her pocket and presented it in the palm of her hand. “This is just a little thank you, Miss Samantha.”

Sam was duly surprised and he smiled gently. As he took the little box he said, “Jennifer you really didn’t need to do this.”

“I just wanted to say thank you, Miss Samantha. I really like you and I think that in different … socio-economic conditions you and I could have been soul sisters.” She gave Sam a nice smile.

Sam opened the box and withdrew a necklace with a small pony hanging from it. “It’s a horse,” Jennifer said. “It’s the one thing that always makes me happy. I love horses. When I am having a bad day no matter what the reason, I can always come down here to the stable and talk to Jesse and everything is better.

“Miss Samantha, if sometime you are feeling lonely or sad or … isolated from everyone you love, you can hold your necklace and it will remind you that you have one real friend; me. I’ll miss you.”

“It won’t be that long, Jennifer. I’ll be back riding with you in 4 weeks. And then I can tell you all about Paris.”

Jennifer grabbed Sam and gave him a hug. “I wish,” she said. “When you do return, when you and Lisa get married, if you ever need an equestrienne please keep me mind. I would love to work for you.” Then she quickly walked away and went looking for her boyfriend.

Sam was surprised and more than a bit confused. If there was such as thing as an ominous gut feeling, he was beginning to feel the onset of one. Chas had talked strangely and now Jennifer was speaking in riddles. “Most weird,” he said. Then he tightened the strap to his hat, mounted Abigail, and went looking for his girlfriend.

After riding, Lisa took Sam’s hand and led him back to the house. “Can you make us lunch?” she asked.

“Sure. What would you like?”

“A salad. Maybe with some snow peas and bacon?”

“Ok.”

“And don’t forget to change first.”

“Change?”

“Yeaaaah,” she drawled. “When you cook you need to wear a uniform. Miss Maggie always does.”

“But …” Lisa just stared at him until he backed down. “Ok,” and he stomped off to change. Lisa smiled and blew him a kiss behind his back.

After lunch Lisa suggested packing for Paris. “We need to go through our closets and pick out what we want to take with us. We can see what else we need and then put it on our shopping lists for New York.”

“Let’s start in your closet,” Sam said. “I need to get an idea of what you are taking. I have no idea what to pick out.”

“Fine,” Lisa said as she took Sam’s hand and walked him up to her room. They both stripped down to their lingerie. Sam was impressed with his girlfriend. She had a beautiful body with slinky curves and a sumptuous cleavage. He wanted to put his hands all over her and more than once she had to push him away — always with a grin and giggle.

“Aren’t you going to wear a corset?” Sam asked.

“No, why should I? I’m already perfect,” she said.

“That you are,” Sam agreed. “But then I don’t need to wear one either.”

“I beg your pardon, but yes you do.”

“Why? I’m already smaller than you. I just don’t have the bountiful handfuls on top, and a corset won’t make any difference there.”

“You think you’re as small as me?” she asked incredulously.

“I bet I am. Find a dress that is a little tight or too small for you, and I’ll bet I can fit in it better than you.”

“It’s a bet. What are we betting for?” They both laughed at the foolishness of such a question. Lisa walked through her closet looking at dresses, trying to remember which ones she had outgrown; or at least hadn’t worn for a long time. She found a long sleeve LBD that she couldn’t even remember. “This has to be too small, I forgot I even had it. Me first,” and she tossed it over her head and slid it over her body. She tugged it down into position and it was obviously too small for her. She spun around in front of her mirror and asked Sam, “So you think you can fit into this?”

“I think so,” he said. He had to help Lisa pull it over her head to get it off. Then it was Sam’s turn. He lifted it over his head, slid his hands into the sleeves then let it slid seductively over his body. It hung up a little around his boobs, but with a little help it slid down into position. Sam did a little twirl to show how loose it was around his waist.

“You owe me,” he said smugly.

“Wow,” Lisa said as she admired Sam and the dress. “I’m impressed. That’s an 8 — 10 size. It’s a bit tight in the shoulders, but otherwise it fits you.”

“It is not too tight in the shoulders,” he protested. “Don’t try to squirm out of our bet, you owe me!”

Lisa leaned into Sam and touched their lipstick covered lips together, being careful not to smear it. “I promise to pay my debt,” she said with a smirk. “But I am impressed. You have a beautiful body,” she told him. “How much weight have you lost?”

“I don’t know for sure, since I never you used to worry about it. But if I had to guess I would guess somewhere between 15 and twenty.” Without a scale people always over-estimate their weight loss. He was off by 5 pounds, which was still impressive considering his petite bone structure.

“Let’s see if you can fit into an 8,” and Lisa dove back into her closet. A few minutes later she surfaced with a pretty white dress used for Sunday socials. “Try this one Samantha.”

Sam stripped off the little black dress then slid the white dress over his head. It was a bit too tight. “Still impressive,” Lisa told him. “I wonder if you can fit into some of Harriet’s smaller things. There is no need to go through her “big” closet. Right?”

“Yep,” Sam said.

“But first, since we’re here, let’s see what I have for Paris. And we might as well see if they fit you also.”

“Maybe we can cut down on luggage,” Sam added.

“Why would we do that?” Lisa asked in dead earnestness. “We can each expand our wardrobe if we can share.” She gave Sam a satisfied grin and added, “You have to think like a diva, Samantha.”

“I don’t think I could be a diva. But you could.”

“Is that a slam?” Lisa asked with mock anger.

Sam acted defiant and retorted, “Well if the shoe fits …”

“Well! I have never …”

“Maybe that’s your problem,” Sam smirked. They both broke up laughing. “You’re beautiful Lisa,” Sam said in way of an explanation and a little apology. “You have spent a lifetime being a girl - duh! — and you know how to act and use that bod. You could be a diva and I mean it in a good sense.”

Lisa smiled and took Sam’s hand, “Thank you Samantha. But you are selling yourself short. You have a great looking bod too. It’s a little synthetic in some places, but that can be corrected if you want. And you already act like a real girl. Everyone was marveling at how wonderful you were last night. You’ve only been doing this for two months or so. With more practice you could be a better diva than me.”

Sam smiled politely and looked at the floor. Lisa continued to hold his hand but he said nothing. Lisa waited a moment then used her finger to raise his chin so he was looking at her, “Penny for your thoughts?”

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I was just thinking is all.”

“About what?”

Another deep breath and slow exhale, “What you just said.”

“And …?”

“Just thinking,” he said with an introspective smile. “Come on, we have dresses to try on. And you have to explain them to me.”

“Explain them?”

“Yeah, why are you picking out certain dresses to take with us. What is so special about them? Where are we going to wear them? And what do we wear with each of them; how do we accessorize?”

Lisa smiled, “Girl you’re going to be awesome in Paris. We might need two bodyguards to keep the boys away from us.”

“Just don’t keep this boy away from you. Please?” It was almost a plea, as if he knew something. The comment caught Lisa off guard and she wanted to ask him what he meant, but she didn’t want to go there.

“Never. We’re the perfect couple. Sexy, gorgeous, smokin’ hot and totally in love.” She grabbed Sam around the neck and gave him a hug. “Samantha, I’m in love with you.”

He returned the hug and whispered in Lisa’s ear, “Me too.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent playing dress up. It was a wonderful time for the two inamoratas. Especially for Sam who totally enjoyed his afternoon of playing dress-up. Lisa was more than happy to discuss fashion and accessories and time and places for their various outfits. They each tried on the same dresses and played with jewelry and accessories. They wore pearl necklaces and gold bracelets and big hoop earrings and tiny diamond stud earrings and silver rings and cameo chokers and strappy heels and threw colorful purses over their shoulders and evaluated silky stockings in different colors with lots of back seams and elaborate designs and even sequins. Lisa had closets and drawers and jewelry cases of fun things to try out.

And after they went through everything in Lisa’s room, they went to Harriet’s current bedroom and picked out pretty dresses and open toed heels and more purses. It was a wonderful afternoon for both, but especially for the new girl. Sam had a glorious time trying on clothes and modeling different accessories for Lisa’s appraisal. And every perfect combination that they discovered, Sam memorized. Every combo! He would be able to dress like a diva in Paris.

And late in the evening, after missing dinner with Lisa’s parents, they had their wardrobe laid out and ready for Paris. And in spite of the enormous amount of clothes and paraphernalia, Lisa still had dozens of items they would have to shop for in New York City. “We’re going to be busy in New York,” an exhausted Sam said.

“Maybe. But remember, that doesn’t mean we can’t buy other things that strike our fancy. That’s important to remember, Samantha. When we go shopping we don’t have to be practical. If we see something we like, then we go for it! And anyone getting in our way better pray for mercy.” Lisa said it with mock seriousness.

Sam was enjoying this girl stuff more and more. Maybe he wasn’t a girl, but it didn’t really matter anymore. He was playing the girl and having the time of his life. Yeah, he could live with this … and Lisa of course.

The Samantha Project - Chapter 41 - 45

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Lisa takes her sexy boy to Paris where he finally learns the truth — all of it.

Femdom, crossdressing, hair and hair salon, corseting, heels, appliances attached, sex, illustrations.

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson
CHAPTER 41

The girls had to get up early Monday morning. They were flying up to New York with Aunt Michelle and she always left at 7:30. She wanted to be in her Manhattan office by 10:00. Since they flew out of Dulles, they had to leave the house by 6:30. At least they didn’t have to go through the usual airport disaster that ordinary citizens have to endure. Chas drove them to their private hangar and they walked right on to their jet. Chas loaded their luggage and in no time at all they were in the air while the poor public was still standing in ticket and security check-in lines in the main terminal.

Being rich did have its benefits, Sam decided. He liked it. He liked everything there was about having money and power. He liked chauffeurs, and private jets and pilots, and one hundred foot yachts and thousand acre farms with horses, and maids and gardeners, and antique sport cars. But what he really liked, what made all of this even better, was his feminization. Yes Sam liked his female lifestyle. He enjoyed all those trips and all that time in the beauty salon. He enjoyed being pampered and made beautiful and pretty. He enjoyed having his legs waxed and his face lased (well the idea but not the actual process), and he liked his facial peel and his hair permanent and manicures and pedicures and all the girl talk. He wanted to be a pretty girl and he wanted to wear expensive dresses and million dollar earrings and high heels and have breasts held and caressed by snug under-wire brassieres. He enjoyed modeling wedding dresses and swim suits and dressing Goth, and equestrian and especially wearing sexy red dresses. Sam loved red dresses with butterfly backs.

But most of all, Sam loved Lisa. How in the world was Sam so lucky as to find Lisa and fall into such a wonderful relationship? And what in the world did she see in him? He certainly wasn’t a sexy macho guy. He was barely a guy! He was more girl than boy. His skin was soft and hairless, his face smooth and soft, his waist tightly constricted like a girl’s, his fake breasts were as big as any girl’s, his hair curly and a striking auburn color, and his voice was becoming more and more feminine everyday. He wasn’t even an effeminate boy. He was way beyond that.

Why did she love him? What in the world did she possibly see in him? He wasn’t rich, or cultured or connected or anything. The only thing he was, was Samantha. And as it turned out, that is all Lisa wanted. She wanted a beautiful Samantha, and an intelligent Samantha and an obedient Samantha. Lisa had what she wanted … And so did Sam.

Sam was thinking more and more about Samantha and Lisa. If Lisa wanted a demure submissive Samantha, he might be able to live with that. Lot’s of girls were satisfied being taken care of by a rich husband. The job wasn’t exactly difficult. Samantha could do it the other way around. Yeah, maybe he could do that.

In New York they caught a limo with Miss Michelle and drove in to Jeff’s condo. The girls dropped off their luggage, and went straight out shopping. Well almost; they stopped and had a bagel and orange juice first. Then they went to the boutiques and department stores and began looking for fun. Shopping was fun. They could buy anything they wanted and nothing was off limits. If Sam found a one hundred thousand dollar fur coat he could purchase it right smack dab in the middle of summer without anyone blinking an eye. (No he didn’t buy a fur coat, but the point is made).

And dear reader, you may be one of those people that also thinks shopping is fun, but you have never been treated like Lisa and Sam. People hold your wraps and bring you food and drink (in a clothing store!) and bring in seamstresses and call people on the phone and get you anything — ANYTHING — you want. They dye shoes and purses and deliver everything to your door. You don’t even carry your packages out of the store. You leave and go to the next store and begin shopping again.

And you never have to look at your checkbook or think about a bill. You don’t even know when the end of the month is! It doesn’t matter. And if you’re not sure about buying something, you buy it anyway. You can give it to a niece or sister if you don’t like it. You don’t take it back, you don’t even think twice about it.

Rich and beautiful and in love to a beautiful jeune fille (French for silly filly) is a wonderful lifestyle. Both Lisa and Sam couldn’t have been happier. Power shopping for days on end, dining at 3 star restaurants, Broadway shows and a bit of clubbing in the evening. The next morning, sleeping in and cuddling with her lover, having sex and a late brunch before venturing out to the salon or jewelry store or milliner. Yes, they bought hats. Big wide brim hats, sexy little hats and even a hat with a veil (awesome with a mini dress, super luscious red lipstick and an attitude in a Parisian nightclub). It was like a fairy tale, only there was no dashing young Prince. Instead there were two Princesses.

And of course there was sex. By mid week Lisa’s period was history and the deux jeune filles were constantly in each other arms and panties. Every night started the same way; with Sam between Lisa’s legs and in her erogenous zone. Sam would tease and touch and kiss and caress and lick and smell and satisfy his Princess with the best oral sex he could possibly provide. Slow, insistent stimulation building to awesome explosions of hips, orgasms, screams and Exorcist imitations. Lisa was not shy about announcing her orgasm and expressing her satisfaction.

And in return, Lisa was full of ideas for sex positions as they tried different ideas each night. One night Sam was on his back with his pride pointing the way to heaven. Lisa squatted over Sam while facing towards his pretty red toe nails. She gently lowered herself and took Sam’s throbbing penis into her, squeezing and bucking. She found his balls in front of her and she gently caressed and tickled them while she searched for the best position to please herself. And when she was ready, she rode Sam like an unbroken stallion — or maybe filly is more appropriate. Or maybe she-filly. For as beautiful and pretty and feminine as Sam was, in bed he still had the one boy attachment that Lisa so desired. She was in love with both Sam and his petite penis. Maybe it wasn’t the biggest around, but while in command of his masculine tool, Lisa could make it work to her advantage.

And the next night started like the night before, with Sam orally taking Lisa to nirvana while not smearing or even nicking his lipstick. Tender and soft was the ticket. And then a new sex position for Lisa to introduce. It wasn’t the most satisfying position they tried, but it was the most fun; full of giggles and fun. With Sam standing next to the bed and facing out, Lisa wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck, and using the bed as a stepping stool attempted to couple with him while wrapping her legs around his waist. Sam grabbed her by the buttocks and tried to guide and hold her. Twice they fell over backwards onto the bed, laughing and giggling and kissing.

On the third attempt they were successful. Sam was standing, Lisa’s legs were wrapped around his waist and Sam was inside Lisa. “You can stand or sit, Samantha.”

“Is standing ok for you?”

“Sure. How about you?”

“It’s a little difficult for me to contribute. If I try I might fall backwards.”

“Then sit … slowly. Give me time to adjust as you sit.”

With Sam sitting on the edge of the bed, Lisa in his lap with her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist they made love. Sam was in position to take one of her beautiful nipples in his mouth and tongue and suck it while she did her best to fuck him. Like I said dear reader, it wasn’t their favorite position, but it was fun!

And the following night was replay night. Get out the tivo and one of those old-fashioned VCRs. Sam was laying backwards over the side of the bed with his pony tail dusting the floor, almost begging for mercy as Lisa bent so far backwards she almost broke poor Sam’s penis. But my god they both loved it!

One morning they tried a chair. With Sam sitting, Lisa sat on his lap while facing him. It was an easy position but it didn’t allow Lisa nearly the latitude she usually enjoyed in satisfying herself. So she tried some gymnastics, bending over backwards while Sam held her hands. That was much more interesting, and once again Sam had to beg for mercy while Lisa squealed like a little school girl.

“Squeal,” Lisa commanded Sam.

“I don’t think I can. My voice won’t go high enough.”

“Squeal Samantha or I’ll let go of you and break your love stick off at the base,” she threatened.

Sam laughed and then tried his best imitation of a Lisa scream. It was pretty pathetic. “Don’t worry my silly filly. You will get plenty of practice on your voice. We’ll get you screaming in no time.”

“I can hardly wait,” Sam responded.

“In French too.”

“Woo hoo!” and he pulled her up to his lips for a French kiss.

Friday morning they had their passionate tryst then shared a bath together. They blew bubbles at one another and tried to tickle each other’s private parts with their toes. Lisa asked Sam to apply her makeup and in turn she made up Sam. It took too much time, but time they had. They didn’t have to be to their salon appointment until 2 in the afternoon.

They packed their newly acquired trophies and rode the limo to their waiting jet at Islip. At Dulles, Chas picked them up and took them straight to the office. They were a few minutes early for their appointment, so Maggie sent Sam to the doctor.

“Why?”

“To make sure you have enough iron to survive Paris,” she answered.

“I know what the bitch is going to do and I hate it,” he muttered. He walked to the elevator and typed in sexygirl, rode it down to the fourth floor and went to see his tormentor.

Sam was in one of those stupid paper robes when Dr. Ratchet arrived. “I hear you are going to Paris,” she said.

“Yep.” Sam wasn’t going to do anything to encourage a conversation with his inquisitor.

The doctor was all business, as she handed Sam a bottle, lubed up her finger and shoved it up Sam’s asshole. It took twice as long as normal to bring Sam to ejaculation, and then she only got half as much semen as usual. “Have you been busy lately?” she asked with a grin.

Sam refused to dignify her comment with an answer.

“Samantha, are your breast forms glued on?”

“Uhh no.”

“Then would you please drop your robe and remove your bra please?”

“Oh oh,” Sam thought. “Now what is the bitch up to?” Sam did as he was told, and now he was sitting on her torture table wearing nothing but his lipstick and makeup.

The doctor carefully examined his breast and nipples, and felt them everyway she could. Then she moved down to his waist and felt his waist, pinching his skin and feeling how much she could gather. “Samantha, please step on the scale for me.” The doctor checked his weight and height. Then she measured Sam’s chest and arms and waist and hips. She marked everything on her chart, studied it for a minute, then closed her file and turned to Sam.

“Samantha, the last time you were here you mentioned estrogen. If you don’t mind, let’s discuss hormones for a few minutes. There are two female hormones, estrogen and progesterone, of interest to transsexuals. In addition there is an antiandrogen called spironolactone, that I recommend.”

Sam essentially tuned her out. “What the hell is she talking about?” he thought. “I’m not a transsexual. I might be a crossdresser, but I am not a transsexual!” he thought indignantly.

The doctor talked for a few more minutes and then pulled Sam’s attention back to her. “Do you want larger breasts, Samantha?”

“Huh?” He hadn’t been listening. Sam had been stewing.

“Larger breasts Samantha. Almost every one likes larger and more substantial breasts. They are great for the self image, boosting confidence and projecting a better and more feminine figure and attitude. We can give you larger breasts Samantha. Would you like to have larger breasts?”

Sam just looked at her. What the hell? He was a … a boy, but ok he did have some … tendencies towards the other side … oh hell the female side. Yes he was a full time crossdresser and he could admit that. But he was still a … His own breasts? No more breast forms? No more glue? Bigger?

“How big would they get?” he asked cautiously.

“That’s hard to predict Samantha. There are many factors involved.”

“I’m just thinking,” Sam said. “I’m not really interested … but just approximately.”

The doctor was no novice. Sam was interested but he had no idea what was involved. She would have to explain everything to him. “Just guessing, a B would be the most you could hope for. If that isn’t enough, then we can always consider implants. But that would come much later.

“And the process isn’t that hard. The progesterone and spironolactone would be administered by pill, the estrogen with a patch. You would take the female hormones for the rest of your life, but the antiandrogen would be tapered off in a couple of years.”

“How long?”

“For what? The drugs? I just told you.”

“For my breasts to develop.”

“Oh that. It’s like going through puberty again, only this time it will be female puberty. It’s not just your breasts that will develop, but other exciting things will happen. Your nipples will enlarge and get much more sensitive to external stimulation, your skin will get smoother and softer. Your body fat will readjust, helping to reduce your waist and increase around your buttocks and hips. You will get much curvier. You will lose muscle mass, so your arms and legs will become thinner and more feminine looking. Your voice won’t get much more feminine, but it definitely won’t get deeper or more masculine. And it will prevent male pattern baldness. If you want to make sure that you keep your long, pretty hair, this is your best guarantee.”

“But how long?”

“And you will lose your ability to function as a guy. Sexually that is.”

Sam came to a complete stop. He just stared at her. “Sterile?”

“And eventually impotent. You will be able to get an erection, but you will not be able to function as a male. Your testes will atrophy and you will no longer make semen. You won’t be able to achieve an ejaculation or orgasm.”

“Nothing?”

“No Samantha, what will happen is ….”

Sam tuned her out again. He couldn’t deny to himself that he hadn’t thought about breasts, and hormones. But no balls? No Sex? What in the world would Lisa think? That was way too much to pay for big breasts. His only alternative would be implants. Lisa might let him have implants. But she would be devastated if he took hormones. It would be obvious in his sexual performance. And she would be unable to enjoy his orgasms.

Sam’s mind wandered while the doctor blathered. “Sam, do you have any other questions?”

“No.”

“Ok then. You may get dressed. And have a wonderful time in Paris.”

“Boobs or balls. It comes down to that. You can’t have them both. Which do you want more? Stupid question. I want Lisa more,” he thought while riding the elevator down to the salon. He was in a daze as he stepped across the lobby, clicking his heels and swaying his hips and whipping his ponytail around. He was back to himself by the time he reached the door with the frosted glass and the wonderful smells inside. “Lisa wants my balls and cock. It’s that simple. Decision made.”

Lisa was waiting at the front desk, chatting with several of the girls and talking about Goth. The girls were thinking about Goth night clubs and going totally dressed. Sam, somehow, totally threw off his conversation with the doctor and jumped right into their conversation; listening then adding comments and jokes. All of them joked and laughed for close to twenty minutes, having a hilarious time and enjoying each other’s camaraderie. Lisa finally had to break the mood and insist on their appointment.

“We’re going to Paris, you know.”

Separately, secretly, and quietly each of the girls came up to Samantha and wished her a wonderful time.

“You are the luckiest girl in the world, Samantha. Enjoy!”

“Go for it girl, you deserve it!”

“I wish you the best, enjoy Paris, enjoy Europe, enjoy the boudoir and come back to us. Work hard!”

“Work hard? What did that mean?” Sam wondered.

“Send me a picture, please?

“Write to us, ok? Tell us about the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre.”

“You have to go to Escualita.”

And the best comment; “Be beautiful and feminine. Enjoy Paris, enjoy life and enjoy love.” Who knew that Susan was so eloquent?

Bridgette took Lisa and Susan took Sam. The salon girls with their multiple curves, thin bodies, ample bosoms, phenomenal skin and complexion, curly hair and husky voices took their girls to their respective styling stations. Just like the very first time Sam had come to the salon with Lisa, they had the same beauticians and they were seated in the very same locations. But eons, stereotypes, attitudes, wonder, surprise, prejudices and pedestrian expectations had passed.

That very first visit had brought Lisa and Sam Springer to Susan and Bridgette. This final visit brought a conflicted Lisa and an expectant Samantha. Two kids, one girl and one boy. One girl who had metamorphed into a quickly maturing woman and one boy stumbling and wandering into a world beyond his understanding, but so full of love and wonder that he would never consider turning away. Samantha had been discovered, liberated and allowed to blossom into an unlimited promise of potential, beyond the wildest dreams of the most romantic child in the world.

Sam was the past, Samantha was the future, and the present was a cornucopia of thrills, ego-trips, hubris and greed. Sam must be forgotten, Samantha must be nourished and encouraged, and the present had to be stamped out. Mistress Ann would handle the transition. She would help the butterfly leave the chrysalis and forget the Sam, and stretch her wings and flutter into the blue sky and a future filled with Samantha and feminine guiles, whims, beauty and obedience. And the present would be eliminated, converted and transitioned into the future.

And what a future it would be! And what a surprise it would be; for everyone! The manipulators with all of their money, experience and talent would be taken by surprise. Oh, they will be surprised dear reader.

The girls were led to the wash basins where Sam had his long, auburn hair wetted, shampooed, rinsed, shampooed, rinsed again, crá¨me rinsed, water rinsed, squeezed dried and lightly shaken (not stirred) and wrapped in a fluffy towel for the long and arduous trip back to the styling chair.

Susan spoke, “Mistress Samantha your hair has grown. Your extensions are no longer tightly hugging your scalp. But that is ok, and they are ok. I’m just amazed at how fast your hair has grown out. Your hair looks so nice compared to when you first came here. But now we prepare you for Paris. Are you ready to go?”

“Oui! We spent the week shopping in New York City and we have tons of clothes to haul with us. We will need a caravan to get everything there,” he laughed.

“Have you finished your homework? Do you know where you’re going and what you want to see?”

“I’ll be looking at things on-line up to the final day. But yeah, we have a huge list of things to do and see. And number one is the Eiffel Tower. That will be the first place we go when we get there.”

“Cool. Well for now you can kick back and rest. I’m going to set your hair in pin curls. It will give you some extra curl and bounce when you take it down.”

After having their hair set, both girls had their legs and pits waxed, just to give them that ultimate finished look. And of course that ultimate finished look required a manicure and a pedicure. One final afternoon of complete pampering and feminization for Sam. It would be the last chance for the salon girls to put their stamp of beauty on the canvass to be known forever as Samantha. Many weeks ago Sam had walked in the front door. Sam was now gone, and Samantha would be strutting out today.

It was almost five when the girls exchanged hugs and kisses and Lisa took Sam’s hand and led him out the front door, across the lobby and into the elevator. Two floors below ground level Chas welcomed them and opened the rear door to the limo. An hour later he had wound his way through Washington traffic and delivered the girls to the company hangar and the company jet. Their luggage was already onboard and a small valise was waiting for them in the cabin.

The cabin had two seats and one bed. The girls took their seats and the co-pilot came back to talk with them. He checked their belts and pointed out all of the safety features, then explained their trip. “We will be flying straight up the eastern coast all the way to Labrador. In Labrador we will be stopping for fuel. We will be on the ground for less than an hour. When we go to depart, you will have to be in your seats again. Sorry, but you will have to get out of bed until we are in the air.

“From Labrador we will fly over the Atlantic, south of the UK and into Paris and Orly Airport. The total trip will take about 8 hours. It is currently midnight in Paris, so we will arrive at 8 AM. Do you have your passports?”

Lisa looked in her purse and pulled out two black books. Holding them over her head she said, “Oui.”

“May I have them please? I will present them in Paris and save you some time and harassment. They will be returned before you leave the plane. Ok? Are you ready?” Both girls squealed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

As soon as the plane was in the air, both Lisa and Sam were stripping off their clothes and putting on negligees. In just a few minutes they were in the bed and cuddling and kissing. “I’m not sleepy,” Sam announced.

“I know what you are after and the answer is no. You have to wait until we are in Paris. You’re already a member of the mile high club, and there are no extra points allowed.”

“Twice is better,” he said with a grin.

“Relax Samantha, you’re going to be mauled, used and abused this week. I can hardly wait also. But there are certain protocols. Relax, lay back and dream of the most romantic city in the world.”

“I try, but every time I think of romance I visualize your naked body entwined with mine, and you seem to be screaming at the top of your lungs.”

Lisa laughed and snuggled closer to her soft, negligee-clad inamorata. She threw an arm over him and slid a red-tipped finger into his mouth. “Mmmmm,” he moaned as he sucked on Lisa’s finger. Lisa whispered into Sam’s ear, “Sweet dreams my petite pretty. We have a long day planned for tomorrow. The jet lag is going to be a hassle, so let’s get a jump on it now.”

The pilot came on the intercom and announced, “We will land in exactly one hour. This is your wake-up call.”

The two kids rolled towards one another and shared a kiss and a smile. “Oh boy,” Lisa whispered. “We better get ready. You go wash up first, then we can glue on your breast forms.”

Sam used the toilet and washed his face. Lisa spread adhesive on the back of his breast forms, and they were ready for application when Sam exited the head. Lisa helped place them properly on Sam’s chest and then slid his brassiere on while Sam held the forms in their proper position. A quick kiss and Lisa ducked into the head to prepare for Paris.

Dressed in their lingerie, they helped each other with their makeup. Lisa fluffed up Sam’s faux eyelashes with an extra coat of mascara, then they each applied their own lip liner and pot gloss. After makeup, Lisa checked Sam’s corset and pulled him nice and tight — actually to the minimum of the corset — and made sure the laces were in place. Pretty knee-length, summer dresses came next and then shoes. Sam had originally wanted to wear heels, but a more experienced head prevailed, and he wore some comfortable one inch sandals with open toes.

That left just their hair. Sam went first and helped Lisa remove her curlers, then brushed out her curly hair. In return, Lisa pulled out all of the pins holding Sam’s hair and let his curls drop into place. She fluffed his curls just a little with her fingers, because both “girls” wanted Sam’s hair left curly.

They barely finished in time to strap themselves into their seats for the landing. “Yeah,” they yelled and clapped as the plane coasted to the hangar. The co-pilot popped out of the cockpit and told the girls to sit tight for a few more minutes. “Let me meet the customs agent and present your passports and documents. Then you will be free to exit.”

The two girls had to wait fifteen minutes before the co-pilot returned and handed them their passports. “You’re all set to go. Your luggage has been tagged and will meet you out front. Present your passports at the diplomatic counter and you’re all set.”

“Thank you,” both girls said as they walked off the jet. Lisa immediately took Sam’s hand and the lead. Both girls were in full strut as they bounced along the labyrinthine corridors on their way to the central customs area. They each had a smile and a gleam in her eye as they easily passed through customs and looked for their chauffeur.

Out front a tall man wearing a black uniform had a sign saying “Miss Hawthorne & Miss Springer”. He held it for each girl walking by, but when he saw the girls he dropped the sign. He knew he had found his fares. He quickly introduced himself and hustled them off to their luggage carousel. The diplomatic carousel was off by itself in a secure area. The girls identified their luggage and the chauffeur waited for the porter to collect everything, then he led everyone to his vehicle. After loading the trunk, and half the interior the man approached the girls. “Who is Mademoiselle Hawthorne?” he asked.

“Me.” The two of them spoke in soft French and shared some hand signals. One of them was the left hand on the right shoulder. After a few minutes of discussion Lisa said, “Merci.” Then the chauffeur held the rear door for the girls to climb in.

“Was that what I think it was?” Sam asked.

“Yes. We are using the same hand signal as New York City if you want immediate help. If we need him for something else, like a change in plans or even to take a picture of us together, we hold our left elbow with our right hand. You don’t have to identify him for either signal. He will be watching us.”

“Lisa, I have a question. How do you know he is ok? I mean … you’re important and very valuable. How do you know that we have the right guy?”

“Passwords. He was screened by a security agency for use by the family. Before we arrive we set passwords. He has one and I have one.”

“Really? What were they?”

“Mine was “Equestrians prefer fillies” and his was “Nageurs préfá¨rent les dauphins”.

“What does that mean?”

“Swimmers prefer dolphins.”

“Cool, secret passwords.” Sam was quiet for a moment as the limo began driving away from the airport. “Lisa, can I ask something … personal? About you and your family?”

Lisa smiled, “We’re almost family Samantha. Ask away.”

“Is your family involved with the CIA or some secret organization?”

“Huh? What are you asking?”

“Well, you are so secretive about some things. Miss Maggie for instance. Whenever I asked a question about her, everyone clammed up. And you say she is from the CIA, but does it really mean culinary … whatever?”

Lisa began laughing. “Samantha you really are my silly filly. No wonder I love you so much. I know you figured out that mom and Miss Maggie are lesbian lovers. Tonight I promise to tell you the truth. But just so you know, Maggie’s CIA really is a cooking school in Pittsburgh. She is not Central Intelligence Agency.”

Sam was a little miffed that Lisa laughed at him. “Well you guys really are cloak and dagger about stuff,” he complained.

“Yeah, I guess we are at times,” Lisa conceded. “Tonight we talk. Can you wait?”

“Is this going to be good?”

“That is totally dependent on you. You decide. Now let’s concentrate on Paris. I am so psyched I could pee my panties.”

Sam giggled, “Me too. But I plan on holding off on that until tonight,” he said with a big grin.

“Silly filly!”

It took a full hour to wind through the narrow back streets of Paris and arrive at a non-descript alley and door. The chauffeur parked the car and exited. The minute his door closed it locked. Next to the dark door was a hidden keypad. The driver typed in a password and the door opened. He returned to the car, unlocked his door and climbed in behind the wheel. Then he drove them into the courtyard of a phenomenal condo.

The condo took up the entire block, all four sides, and the interior courtyard was perfectly private. The driver pulled under an overhang and parked the limo. He opened the rear door and offered his hand to each girl as they stepped out of the vehicle and surveyed their surroundings.

“Oh my god,” Sam whispered as he turned 360 degrees and looked around the courtyard and the surrounding three story building.

“I will take your luggage to the second floor master bedroom,” the man said in French.

“Thank you,” Lisa muttered as she too spun on her heels. “I was here only once many, many years ago,” Lisa explained. “I remember that tree over there. It was covered with pink blossoms. And I went swimming in that pool. But I don’t remember ever seeing such a beautiful, dark blue sky, or the beautiful and sexy boy standing next to me.” Lisa took Sam’s hand as they both continued to wheel around taking in their surroundings. “Samantha? Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Nope. I think this says it all.” They spun around one more time, hand in hand and gawking at their villa. Finally, Sam said, “You guys don’t do anything half-ass, do you?”

Lisa laughed and wrapped her arms around her boy. “Nope. This place was a dump, but I told Miss Grace that I was bringing you here, so she rushed out and threw a coat of paint on the dump. Looks pretty good doesn’t it?”

Sam turned to Lisa and there was a little tear in his eye. “Lisa, why the hell am I here?”

“What?” Lisa asked incredulously.

“I don’t belong here,” Sam explained. “This is all way above me, and totally out of my league. Lisa, this shit doesn’t happen in real life,” and Sam sniffled. “Honestly, please be honest with me. What do you want with me? What am I doing here?”

Lisa softly stroked Sam on his cheek with the back of her hand. She wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, then held his chin with her hand as she leaned into him and softly kissed him on his lips. She took him in her arms and laid her forehead against his. In a soft voice she said, “Je t’aime. Samantha, I love you with all of my heart and soul. That is why you are here. The rest is immaterial. Ok, my family has money and we’re lucky. But if neither of us had a nickel to rub between our fingers, I would love you still. Instead of Paris we would be standing in front of a Motel 6 in Roanoke, Virginia. And I would still be deeply in love with you.”

Sam was quiet for a moment or two, then he whispered, “I hear you. And I love you also. I really, really love you. But I am so overwhelmed. Never … never in my wildest dreams would I have thought this to be possible. What’s the catch? Cinderella is an urban legend. And so is Pretty Woman and Julia Roberts. And on top of all that,” Sam stepped away from Lisa and held out his arms in display. “I’m a girl. Please Lisa, tell me this is real, and not some cruel trick. Am I going to be sold into sex slavery in some Arab country?”

Lisa looked at Sam with a stunned and pained look on her face. “Sold into slavery?”

“Well this stuff happens just about every day Lisa,” and he waved his arms around the courtyard.

“You are way too dramatic. You’re turning into a drama queen. Come on get real, why would I sell you? I don’t need the money. And besides you are my silly filly.” Lisa toned down her voice and added, “Samantha, this is real. I guess it must be hard to believe at times, but I promise you this is real. Now would you come inside with me please? I’m thirsty and I need your blood.”

Sam just stared at her. “Kidding!” Lisa shouted. “Come on, I want to look around the place, get a coke then go get my first Grand Marnier crepe. Are you with me?”

Sam snuffled one more time then asked, “Drama queen?”

“Big time, girl! Save it for tonight when I clamp you in irons and ravage your body.”

“That’s not funny. I’m fragile and vulnerable here.”

“You better not be when I get you in bed tonight. I am going to own your bones.”

The mood was broken. Sam smirked and giggled a little. “Ok, if this isn’t real then I might as well go down in flames. If its hand to hand combat you want, I’ll be ready.”

“That’s my filly. Come on, I think I kind of remember how to get around in this place.”

The condo was as phenomenal as they expected. Luxurious wasn’t a good enough word for the building. It looked totally nondescript on the outside of the block. In fact it looked dumpy. But once you moved inside, into the courtyard and then the building itself, you were in another world; that world where Sam felt ill at ease and totally out classed.

But if Sam had only known the truth, if he had only believed in Samantha, he would have known the truth. Samantha would eventually make this place look pedestrian. Samantha would be the gem of the Hawthorn family. And she would become the toast of Washington. Samantha would be more beautiful and more powerful than anyone could have dreamed. She would become both a dream and a nightmare for the Hawthorne family.

As magnificent as the tour was, it was secondary to the couple temporarily inhabiting the family compound. They were standing on the veranda coupled with one of the master bedrooms. Across the courtyard and rising over the condo was the Eiffel Tower. “We can finish this tour later,” Lisa announced. “Andre?” she yelled. “Where is this café with the crepes? We can’t climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower on an empty stomach.”

Andre set aside his luggage duties and took the couple out of the compound and pointed out the café. It truly was just across the street and it looked totally Parisian. Holding hands they walked to the café and took a seat under the awning. Both girls crossed their legs and exhibited their beautiful legs and pretty heels. They flashed pearly white teeth surrounded by rosy red lips as they surveyed their view of Paris life. The street was shut down at either end of the block, and people were wandering along in the street, stopping at cafes and street vendors. The citizens and tourists were perusing fruit, baked goods, chocolate and cheese. There was even the pungent smell of a seafood store.

A waiter came over to the girls and said in decent English, “Hello mademoiselles. How may I help you?”

Lisa quickly switched to her French and ordered a small Grand Marnier crepe for the two of them, along with two cokes. “How did he know we were Americans?” Sam asked.

“Because we are so beautiful, Samantha.” They both laughed. “But to be serious; its practice. Here in Europe, all these different countries and nationalities are close together and they see other people all the time. It’s not like America. We’re so big and homogenous that you rarely see a foreigner. Not so here. So bottom line, I think it is mostly practice.”

“Interesting.” They chit chatted and talked about the people walking by and their fashions.
“Yuck. Everyone is wearing jeans,” Sam complained. But after thinking he asked, “Are we going to be over dressed?”

“Never,” Lisa responded. “We will be the best dressed girls in town. And the most beautiful, too. But over dressed? Never! They’re all under dressed. Too bad!”

“I accept the fact that being as pretty as we are, we can pull off the “beautiful people” routinely, but those hats we brought; aren’t they way over the top?”

“Beautiful people are we now?” Lisa said with a smile. “Just a touch of advice; I agree, but don’t tell anyone else. And those hats? Those hats are for when we do want to tell other people. Just you watch and see; when we wear our hats we will have rich men all over us. Not boys, but men with money.”

“I don’t want men with money. Why should I? I have a girl with money.”

Lisa smiled and nodded in agreement. “You are right, and to troll for attention is so weak. But you know what?” she asked with a smile and a gleam in her eye. “Sometimes it’s just fun. It’s fun to strut your stuff and look so totally and absolutely pretty and beautiful and cute and feminine and girly and awesome and …”

Sam cut her off. “I get it. It is kind of fun isn’t it? A huge ego trip. Is that good though? Is it ok, knowing there all kinds of whackos out there?”

“Don’t worry about the whackos, we have Andre,” and she threw a smile and nod his way. “It’s just plain, good-ole fashioned fun. Girls just wann’a have fun, ya know? Don’t you like being the most beautiful and awesome center of attention?”

Sam gave it some deep thought for a moment and confided, “Yes and no. I’m still conflicted with this girly stuff.”

“You don’t like being a pretty girl?” Lisa asked stunned.

“It’s not that. I do enjoy being feminine and pretty. I do. But I’m a boy. Boys don’t do this kind of stuff.”

“Mine does,” Lisa said confidently. “My boy is the prettiest boy in the world. And I’ll love him till death do us part.”

“What?” Sam thought he had just heard something … maybe a statement or … offer.

“Saved by the crepe,” Lisa said as the waiter brought over their crepe. They took a bite and their eyes rolled up into their head, and groans issued from their lips and deep within their stomachs. “This is good!”

“But a little too much for this early in the day.”

“You mean the alcohol?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have to make this our evening dessert.”

“We’ll be dieting for weeks to get rid of it.”

“Not while we’re here, we won’t,” Lisa laughed. They finished their crepe, paid and set off on their first tour.

“Do you know where you are going?” Sam asked.

“Absolutely,” and Lisa pointed at the Eiffel Tower rising above the neighborhood. Lisa took Sam’s hand and they walked towards the number one tourist spot in France.

They walked past á‰cole Militaire and looked down the long green park towards the Eiffel Tower. “Beautiful,” Lisa whispered to her lover. They walked through the monument and took turns taking each other’s picture with the Eiffel Tower in the background. Then Lisa touched her left elbow with her right hand. Andre appeared out of nowhere and took their picture together.

They strolled zig-zag across the green and through the park, holding hands, and watching the groups of people enjoying the green. And in turn they were watched as they passed through the trees and park and along the walk towards their destination. They dodged the busses in the traffic circle and made it to the Eiffel Tower. Standing directly beneath it they took more pictures. Then holding hands they sauntered to one of the legs where they walked all the way to the top observation platform.

Huffing and puffing they made it to the top, and stepped onto a slightly wobbling structure. The Eiffel Tower was not nearly as rigid as Sam had expected. They walked around the platform catching their breath and looking out over greater Paris. It was a beautiful warm day, with a bright blue sunny sky and the distant landmarks were easily spotted.

Lisa maneuvered the two of them into a corner ant then made her signal to Andre. She handed the camera to him, then posed next Sam. After snapping a few pictures he took a step towards the girls, as if to hand back the camera. Lisa held up her hand and said, “De continuer á photgrapier.”

Lisa turned her back to the camera, but made sure that Sam’s face would still be in view. She reached into her purse and took out a small, blue velvet box. Holding it in the center of her palm, she offered it towards Sam. Sam was saying something, but when he saw the box his sentence stopped, even though his mouth remained opened. Lisa looked him in the eye and asked, “Samantha, would you marry me? Please?”

“Who are you proposing to?” Sam asked.

“You.”

“Sam or Samantha?” Sam’s motivation for this question went no further than his wedding day. He wanted to know if he would be wearing a tuxedo or dress on his wedding day. Lisa’s answer would be immaterial to Sam’s decision. He was going to say yes, but he was desperately hoping to wear a fancy and feminine dress.

“Sam and Samantha.”

“Nope, it can’t be both.”

“Why not?”

“Because it is time to be honest.”

With a big breath Lisa answered, “Samantha. I want to marry Samantha.” Lisa was thinking much longer term than Sam. Lisa was answering a question for the rest of her life.

Below Lisa’s outstretched hand he quickly removed his fake engagement ring from his left hand and moved it to his right hand. Then he took the box and opened it. He removed the ring from its velvet cushion and put it on the correct finger. He held his hand out in front of him and admired the ring on his hand with the bright red, sparkly fingernail polish.

“Samantha?” Lisa enquired.

Sam threw his arms around Lisa’s neck and simply said, “Yes.” Then he leaned in for a gentle kiss — can’t smudge the lipstick can we? Sam looked directly into the camera and smiled. Andre got some very nice pictures of Samantha the girl receiving an engagement ring from another girl. Lisa’s face wasn’t in the picture.

They hugged for minutes as tourists walked by gaping. Sam continued to look at his ring behind Lisa’s back. Finally, Sam said, “This is going to be complicated isn’t it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a girl, and you gave me a girl’s diamond ring. What is everyone going to say?”

“Congratulations.”

“What about your father? I’ve never met him and now he is going to find you marrying a … a …what am I?”

“You’re a beautiful and feminine boy. And don’t worry about my father. Everything will work out just grand.”

“But I do worry. I love you. I’m allowed to worry!”

Lisa placed a finger over Sam’s pouty red lips. “Tonight at dinner we will discuss this. Everything will be just fine. But for now, I want to walk around Paris with my beautiful boy-fiancée. I want to show everyone how pretty he is.”

For the rest of the day, every time Sam tried to talk about his “problem”, Lisa either shushed him or ignored him. “Relax and enjoy Paris my beautiful courtesan,” is all Lisa would say. She led her inamorata across the Seine to l'Esplanade du Trocadéro, where they took numerous pictures of the Eiffel Tower. From there they returned to the river and caught a sight-seeing river cruise. They cruised down river and around the Notre-Dame cathedral and back to their start. They shared a croissant and juice on the boat ride.

From the quay they walked the back streets through the 7th arrondissement known as du Palais-Bourbon, back past the military school, and past Les Invalides where they used to take care of wounded veterans. They made it back to their apartment in the late afternoon, where they kicked off their shoes and put on swim suits. Sam slipped out of his corset and slipped into a white bikini. The top was small and his large “C” breast forms peaked out around the edges of the cups. Neither girl bothered with sun tan lotion because they would be in the shade. It was a warm June day and they would be more than comfortable with their ice tea under the shade tree.

“How did you like your first day in Paris, Samantha?” Lisa asked after they had settled into some comfortable Adirondack chairs.

“Nice.” Sam looked at his ring and added, “Perfect. But I still have my reservations about us getting …” Lisa cut him off.

“No reservations are allowed Samantha. I’ll explain everything at dinner.”

“Why do I have to wait? Is someone joining us or something?”

“Because I said so, and no, in that order. Please don’t worry.”

“Then why do we have to wait?” Sam insisted.

Lisa sighed. “Because it is a long and involved explanation. Please, I would prefer to have a glass of authentic French wine in my hand to wet my whistle as I explain. Ok?”

“Ok.” Sam sipped his tea but couldn’t control his thoughts. “Am I going to wear a wedding dress?”

“Of course. You are way too beautiful to be in anything but the most expensive silk and satin dress in the world.”

“How about you? What will you wear?”

“Something just as pretty, although I doubt I will be able to make it look as good as yours.”

“That’s not likely,” Sam smiled. “So who is going to be the wife and who is going to be the husband?” Sam’s anxiety was showing.

“Which would you prefer?” Lisa tried to deflect his question.

“I am the man,” Sam answered, insinuating he had no choice but to be the husband.

“That’s not an answer, Samantha. Which would you prefer? Forget what is expected of you. Tell me what you really want. It’s your life, you get to make the decision.” That’s what Lisa said verbally. “Like hell you get to choose,” is what she was thinking.

Sam lay in his chair and stared at the tree hanging above them. He closed his eyes and said, “I would love to wear a really fancy wedding dress. But what …?”

Lisa immediately cut him off. “Me too! I want you in a beautiful dress. So there, it is decided. Now no more questions until dinner. Promise?”

A reluctant, “I promise.”

They both sat in contemplation for a few minutes. Lisa broke the silence, “Your bikini doesn’t cover your breast forms. They’re too big.”

“I know. But no one else is going to see.”

“What would you think about getting your own breasts?” Lisa asked.

Sam chuckled. “I think I would enjoy having my own set of girls. But there are too many problems to that.”

“There are no problems that we can’t overcome,” Lisa claimed.

“Well the only way I can see doing it is with implants. And guys don’t get implants. I mean they would be too obvious when not dressed as a girl.”

“So why couldn’t you stay dressed as a girl?”

“Because it would be like living like I was a real girl all the time, that’s why.”

“So?”

“So why can’t you become a pretty girl full time? Why can’t you and I live together as two girls? As two wives? As two inamoratas?”

Sam sat up in his chair and asked, “Are you serious?” Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This idea had entered his mind — many times. And he couldn’t be honest to himself and say it didn’t sound interesting —even fascinating to him. And this was really what he wanted to discuss with Lisa. His constant transformation back and forth between boy and girl was taking its toll on his psyche. He liked playing the girl, but that is all it was — playing. But what if …?

While all that was running through Sam’s mind, he still wasn’t being honest with himself. He hadn’t been jumping back and forth from boy to girl to boy. From the day of the first party, Lisa had him living full time as a girl. Maybe he thought of himself as a boy, but the image and life he presented to everyone said he was a she. And that was full time.

And if he was more honest, he would have admitted that he enjoyed it. Not part of the time but all of the time. Sam wanted to become a full time girl. His 18 years of male conditioning just didn’t want to let go so easily. And there was one male accoutrement that Sam didn’t want to let go of.

“I am very serious Samantha. When you asked who I wanted to marry, I said Samantha. You didn’t ask me who I wanted to live with.”

“Samantha?”

With a big smile Lisa answered, “Yes. I want to live full time and all the time with Samantha.”

“But what would people say? Your father for instance? My foster parents? I just don’t see how something like that is possible. Maybe we could save Samantha for our private time together?”

“No Samantha, I won’t settle for Samantha part time. You’re too wonderful to hide in private. I want to show you off to the entire world.”

“But ...”

“Stop,” Lisa said quietly. “Tonight at dinner we can talk about buts. For now, please think about what I said. I am deeply in love with you Samantha. That’s the important thing. Everything else we can handle — IF you want to handle them.”

Lisa paused for a moment then asked, “So what was your impression of the Eiffel Tower?” Lisa would discuss the breast issue again. In the next three weeks she intended to have her boy committed to his feminine existence for the rest of his precious life.

At six o’clock they began preparing for their dinner. Sam went straight for his red butterfly dress. He loved that dress, and life wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t wear it in Paris at least once.

Lisa wore a red knit dress with cap sleeves, a ruched front and a low neckline to show off her pushed up cleavage. Lisa added a pearl necklace to her outfit, along with pearl earrings. Sam wore his expensive earrings.

They collected their cosmetics and wallets and filled their purses. As they were about to leave Lisa looked at Sam’s hands and his rings. Lisa asked, “Samantha, can I have your other engagement ring, please? I’d like to be engaged too.”

Sam smiled and handed the ring to Lisa. “I guess it’s no longer a fake engagement ring is it?”

“I guess your right,” Lisa answered.

“But yours is bigger than mine,” Sam complained in a facetious tone.

“Samantha, remember my promise to you?”

“About buying me an expensive ring?”

“Yes. The jeweler told us what? Color, cut and clarity. Your diamond has all three. It might look smaller, but it is as expensive as I promised. With those earrings you are a million dollar girl.”

“Cool. So where are we going?”

“Two blocks. Are you willing to walk?”

“Sure.”

Lisa took Sam’s hand and they walked to their restaurant.

Upon entering the restaurant the two girls were confronted with a maitre d’ that seemed to speak only French. “Do you speak English?” Lisa asked.

“Je ne comprende pas.”

“Parlez vous anglais ?”

“Non mademoiselle.”

That is what Lisa was hoping for. She didn’t want people over hearing their conversation later. In French she told him she had a reservation for two. She pointed to Andre and told the man that she was buying his dinner; anything he wanted with the exception of alcohol. Lisa further explained that their meal would be leisurely and so they could also take their time serving the man his different courses.

The man wasn’t stupid, and he quickly understood that he had two special guests. Lisa spoke to Andre and told him the meal would be slow and leisurely. He was to enjoy whatever he wanted and Lisa would pay. However, there was a tiny … tiny … chance they might go out to a club later, so he could not imbibe in the excellent wine. He understood of course.

The maitre d’ escorted the ladies to their table. Lisa took a chair on the back side of the table. She wanted to see anyone approaching their table. In short order their waiter appeared. “Parlez vous anglais?” Lisa asked him.

“No ma’am. Sorry,” he answered in French.

“No problem,” she said in French. “We will not need menus. Please bring us a nice bottle of red wine. You decide which one. Then bring us one appetizer. Again, you make the decision. We shall split it. And we would like bread. S’il vous plá¢it.”

Lisa had taken total control of the situation. Everyone in the restaurant knew she was in control, she was not to be trifled with, she had more than enough money and she deserved their respect. And Sam knew also. In fact, he had never seen her perform so forcefully and resolutely. Sam was impressed and a bit worried. “What the hell were they going to discuss?” he wondered.

Sam said nothing and just smiled at Lisa. Lisa leaned towards Sam and said, “May I have your hand?” Sam tentatively gave Lisa his hand. Lisa took Sam’s hand and softly caressed it. She examined his red nails and the flawless skin on the back of his hand and finally she inspected his engagement ring. She held her left hand next to his and placed their rings next to each other. “Mines bigger than yours,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“You’re a devil,” Sam said.

“Moi?”

“Come on, we came here to talk.”

“And so we did. First off I want to tell you that I am in love with you. And I am in love with your feminine persona. I find you the most beautiful, sexy, hot and erotic boy I have ever seen. Second, I find your intelligence, humor, devotion and honesty superior to any person that I have met. You are the most remarkable boy or girl that I will ever meet. I am confident of that. And I wanted you to know that up front.”

“Ditto for me,” Sam said to lighten the mood. “Are you KGB?”

“What?”

“You say your family isn’t CIA. But I saw how you handled everyone in here. And I also noticed that you made sure to take that chair. “Never sit with your back to the door”, they say in the movies.”

“I was right about the intelligent part. But we’re not in intelligence; at least not international spying. Samantha, I have a rather long story to tell you, so please forgive me up front.”

“Go. Speak, please.”

“Miss Grace is my grandmother.”

“I know that part,” Sam said with a grin.

Lisa smiled back. Sam was trying to lighten the discussion. Lisa appreciated that. “She lost her mother when she was very young. She isn’t even sure how old she was. Her parents had her late in life, so her dad was is in his forties when she was born. He was a successful businessman who had little time for his daughter. So her dad hired a nanny to take care of Miss Grace and raise her. Her dad pretty much ignored her. He was seldom at home.

“Her father was extremely tight with a dollar, and he paid the nanny almost nothing. She had a son about the age of Miss Grace. The nanny could barely afford to take care of the boy. She lived in house and so did her son, and that is the only way they were able to survive. Miss Grace and the boy Edward became best friends. They played together in their free time. A tutor came to the house to teach Miss Grace and Edward sat in also. Later, when Miss Grace went to high school, Edward was left behind because he couldn’t afford to go. He stayed in the home and helped his mother, although he received no payment. Miss Grace stole money from the household budget to help him survive.

“Because she was so poor, the nanny couldn’t afford nice clothes for Edward. So he lived in Miss Grace’s hand-me downs. Miss Grace and Edward were very good friends and lived like sisters. They moved a second bed into Miss Grace’s bedroom, and Edward slept there. He wore Grace’s clothes all the time and after a while, many people thought he was a girl. And some people were convinced that the two of them were actually sisters.

“But let me emphasize Samantha, they were the best of friends. Miss Grace essentially had no family. Her father was never around and the nanny was her surrogate mother and family. And even though Miss Grace’s father was a successful businessman, she and the other two lived like paupers. They had a wonderful house and a tutor but after that they were poor. And Miss Grace had no social life other than Edward and some neighborhood kids. Not until she reached high school did Miss Grace actually get into the real world and make a few friends.

“So her early years revolved around Edward. Edward was all she had.”

“That’s too bad,” Sam said with honest sympathy. He should know; that was his early life. Sort of.

The wine had arrived and Lisa took a sip. The appetizer arrived and the two of them began nibbling. “Would you like to order?” the waiter asked.

“Give us a little more time please,” Lisa answered in French.

She turned her attention back to the story. “Miss Grace never did like her father. He was too old to relate to her, and he never tried. She saw him at Christmas and once or twice a year when he wanted to impress somebody. Family was trotted out to show what a great guy he was. Nobody even knows what her father looked like. After he passed, Miss Grace burned every picture and memento she had of him. And she did the same with her first husband.

“Please, don’t ever ask Miss Grace about this story. You will regret it. But I tell you the truth as best as her daughters have been able to reconstruct it. Miss Grace reserves her greatest hatred for her first husband. Her father used Miss Grace to seal a business deal and he married her off to a rich business colleague almost as old as he was. Supposedly he was huge and fat; at least 300 pounds. Miss Grace has made a rare comment about how he literally stunk and how dirty and crude he was. And she was forced to marry him.

“Her husband was home bout as often as her father had been. He moved Miss Grace to his estate. You’ve been there; we call it the big farm. Miss Grace was only 17 when this happened. She begged to take the nanny and Edward along, but her new husband was as unfeeling as her father. He allowed her to have one servant and one only. It almost broke Miss Grace, but she felt she had no choice, so she took Edward with her.

“Now if her husband had known that Edward was really a boy, he never would have let her bring him along. So Edward lived full time as a girl servant to Miss Grace. But in spite of their apparent social roles, their friendship never bent.

“The husband spent most of his time working in Washington. The company building was first bought and refurbished by him. Miss Grace’s father had been successful in business, but this man was even better. For a while, that is. Then he found whiskey and women. He too married late in life. He was in his late forties when he married Miss Grace. After he married he found out what he had been missing in the way of female companionship. And it wasn’t long before Miss Grace wasn’t enough for him. He began spending more and more time away from the farm, returning long enough to get Miss Grace pregnant, then he was back to Washington, the whiskey and his whores.

“Business started suffering, not too much I gather, but enough for Miss Grace to become concerned. So even though she had only a 10th grade education, she started getting into the business. Luckily, her husband was at least smart enough to hire good people. And they were good people. They liked Miss Grace so they helped her. They trained her, and taught her what she needed to know. The company was involved in many things but not one thing in large amounts. A little shipping and importing, a little banking, a little farming — hence the big farm — and on and on it went.

“About ten years after marrying this man, her father died. She was just stepping into her husbands business and then she inherited her father’s estate. So she merged them together and with the help of the staff she made a few intelligent, and even she will admit, a few lucky decisions. She kept the business alive and even prospering. Now keep in mind, banking was a very tiny part at this time. That part didn’t go crazy until Aunt Michelle came along. But I am getting ahead of myself.”

The waiter had returned and asked about an entrée. “Samantha do you have any preferences? Meat, beef, sea food, anything at all?” Lisa asked.

“Not really.”

Lisa turned to the waiter and in French said, “Bring us two of your best specials. You make the determination, but make it delicious,” she said with a nice smile.

“Oui mademoiselle,” and the waiter left.

“Where were we?” Lisa asked as she brought the story back to her center of attention. “Yes, Miss Grace and business. She did well Samantha. She was under-educated, but she was smart. She knew when to listen and who to listen to. She did alright for herself.

“But on the home front things were different. In fact, they were bad enough that it might have been some of the reason that she diverted her attention to business. She hated her husband. She literally hated everything there was about him. And she hated her father for forcing her into the marriage.

“The man discovered sex and he wanted children. Miss Grace was determined that she would never give the man an heir. So whenever he showed up at the farm and wanted sex, Miss Grace always managed to put him off until she wasn’t fertile. She was not about to get pregnant by the man. But she knew he wanted and even demanded children. He wanted an heir. So she decided to give him an heir apparent. She turned to Edward.

“Miss Grace and Edward became more than best friends, they became lovers. It was a match made in heaven. They truly loved one another, and they were together all the time — until that is when she had to move into the business. But that was a while later. In the meantime they were married in everything except name. Miss Grace admitted once that Edward kept her from committing suicide.”

Lisa stopped for a sip of wine and to answer a question or two for the waiter. Then back to the story. Sam meanwhile was mesmerized by the tale. And some things were starting to coalesce in his mind.

“Miss Grace and Edward began having children. First was a girl they named Michelle. The second girl, two years later was my mother, Mona. Then came Joyce. Three children and three daughters. And finally they had one more child, a boy. Now Miss Grace started to think about things. At this point she was moving into the business world. And she knew her husband had been hoping for a boy. She was convinced that she would lose a son. Her husband had talked about all sorts of grand things like ivy league schools and prep schools and special tutors and a world of riches for a boy.

“Miss Lisa was not going to give the awful man a son. So she told everyone that she had given birth to a fourth daughter, and she named him Serena. Serena grew up as a girl, much to the delight of Edward. Since Edward was Miss Grace’s servant, much of the child rearing fell to him. And he fell in love with all of his children, but he especially enjoyed raising Serena as a real girl. Everything they could do to help Serena become more convincing and more feminine they did. They had four daughters that they dearly loved, but one was very special. And they loved him very, very much.

“When Miss Grace turned 30 she had four children, a lousy philandering husband and a successful business. When she received word that her husband had died in a capsized boat on the Chesapeake Bay with two hookers in the boat, she never shed a tear. In fact, she once said that she and Edward celebrated with a bottle of wine. The two of them were married by a justice of the peace two weeks later.”

Lisa stopped and looked at Sam. Sam was very quiet and watching Lisa. “Samantha, you and I both know that Edward wasn’t called Edward. At least not after Miss Grace and his mother started dressing him as girl. You know his name now, don’t you.”

In a barely audible whisper Sam answered, “Eunice.”

Their entrees arrived and they began eating — slowly. The conversation slowed down but did not stop. “Things changed after that. Miss Grace had grown up in a horrible environment and so had Eunice. They had money, they had love and they had a family. They made sure that their daughters were loved. They spent time at home with them and never ignored them. But they did give them the best possible education they could get. So they had the best tutors when they were young and they did go to excellent prep schools. And when possible they lived at home and commuted to those schools. And when that wasn’t possible, they made sure the girls came home every weekend they wanted.

“And Miss Grace continued to learn her business and she remained lucky. She still had some good people working there and she rewarded them better than they had ever received under her late husband. Those people thrived and gave Miss Grace good advice. They made some good decisions and she took their advice. The business grew and so did the family wealth. They were living high, but nothing like now.

“Lisa we have a vast, vast family wealth. There is no limit to what anyone in this family can have. And we don’t even keep track of who wants what. There is no quid pro quo. We don’t care if cousin number one spends a million dollars a year and another spends ten million. It doesn’t matter. And you can thank Aunt Michelle for that. She turned out to be a financial wizard — a genius. But that is another story for another time.

“Miss Grace and Eunice were doing great. Things were going well and they thanked their lucky stars. And then they began thinking about why they were doing so well. What providence had given them this luck? After many discussions and much soul searching they came to some conclusions and made some decisions. Whether these were the right or the wrong decisions is really immaterial now. These are her decisions and we live with them.”

Lisa stopped to refill her glass and take another sip. Sam said nothing. “Any questions?”

“Millions, but you have more to say, right?” Lisa nodded affirmative. “I’ll wait. Please continue.”

“Very good. As you know, but may not realize, we live in a paternalistic world. Men are in charge. Men run just about everything from the company to the home. The husband plays the dominant role in the marriage and family, and the wife must play the submissive role. Everyone grows up with these basic tenets drummed into them on a daily basis. Much of the sexual stereotypes not only reinforce this attitude but are in turn driven by the premise of male domination. Now this all varies from place to place and time to time. Some cultures are notorious for macho men and submissive wives. Polygamy is the ultimate manifestation of a paternalistic society. But some customs that truly treat women like chattel are little better. It is difficult to say any culture or religion or country is enlightened enough to play by different rules. That’s the way it is Samantha.

“Except in our family. Miss Grace decided that scenario wasn’t good enough for us. She decided to form a maternal family. Miss Grace is the matriarch and she has laid down some rules and roles that we live with. We have reversed those old paternalistic roles. We believe that a woman can run a family and make decisions every bit as good as a man. Better in fact, on most concerns. And she further decided that things would move much smoother if we could totally eliminate the testosterone driven, male penchant for confrontation and destruction. We would be a family of female values.

“Samantha, you have had many questions and it is time to answer some of those. You wondered how I could be so confident that my father would accept you as Samantha. Do you now know who my father is?”

“Miss Maggie. Right?”

“Absolutely. And is there any doubt in your mind that she really loves you Samantha?”

“None.”

“Does everything make a little more sense now?”

“Yes.”

“You can see why everyone has been so accommodating to your new persona. And it should be obvious why everyone loves seeing how feminine you have become. And it is the only way that you and I can be together. I love you Samantha and I truly want to marry you. But you need to understand my situation. And I hope you do now.

“Everyone in the family loves you Samantha. None more than me of course, but there is someone close behind. Any guesses?”

“Maggie?”

“Miss Maggie,” Lisa corrected her. “We have a strict protocol of respect within the family also, but you will learn that eventually. Yes, Miss Maggie loves you, but I was speaking of Miss Grace. From the first time that you met, from your very first interview she has fallen for you Samantha. I don’t mean that sexually, but she sees herself in you. Like her, you grew up in poverty. Only you grew up in real poverty. You lost your family early and yet you had the intelligence and drive to earn a full ride to a top notch university. And while she had Eunice, you had Amber.”

Sam stiffened just a little at the mention of that name.

“I’m sorry Samantha, but the family did check your background. We have to do those kind of things. I’m sorry and it won’t happen again. But we know you played with the boy downstairs, the son of your foster parents. But we also know you spent even more time with their older daughter. We know you and Amber were very good friends while growing up. And that is why Miss Grace loves you so much. You two have much in common.”

Lisa stopped and finished her entrée. It had been a long meal and a long discussion. There had been many interruptions and it had been difficult to hear because Lisa had barely spoken above a whisper. And when anyone walked close by she stopped and waited for them to move along. And Sam had much to absorb. He realized that all the facts had pretty much been laid out before him. They had not really hidden much from him. He had met the courtesans and concubines. He had missed the brothers and fathers and boy children. And he had seen the formality of respect within the family. Sam had seen. But he had never expected this.

“Desert?” Lisa asked.

Sam shrugged. He was obviously a little overwhelmed, and that was expected. It would take a day or two before he began asking the really tough questions. Lisa understood. She waved over the waiter. “Samantha, any requests?”

“Chocolate.”

Lisa and the waiter spoke for a few moments before he walked off. Lisa returned her attention to Sam. “Samantha, would you like to say something? Ask something?”

“I’m not sure. Let me think for a minute. Let me digest all of this.”

Lisa finished her wine and emptied the bottle into her glass. The two of them had finished the entire bottle, and most of it had been drunk by Lisa. She pushed her chair back and stood. “I’m going to the rest room,” she announced, then picked up her purse and left Sam alone with his thoughts — and demons.

Lisa returned and took her seat. Their deserts had been brought and Sam was looking at his. “Samantha?” Lisa asked, inviting conversation.

“So you just take all your money and power and pick out some boy to turn into a girl? Is that how you do it?” Sam asked with a definite edge to his voice.

Lisa had expected this. Sort of. She knew it was a possibility, but she had hoped she wouldn’t encounter this emotion in Sam. But here it was. She had to use some logic, some humor and some soothing to explain. In a tender and soft voice Lisa began, “No Samantha, it isn’t like that. You can’t transform someone that isn’t interested. You can only help … assist someone that has the interest in the first place. You can’t use brainwashing techniques and mind altering drugs and try to control someone. Even the government knows that doesn’t work. All you can do is destroy someone’s mind with actions like that.

“Samantha, we would never deliberately hurt someone; especially someone that we love. Someone that I love.”

“Then why me?” Sam asked with pain and confusion in his voice.

“You probably don’t remember the first time that we met, but …”

“Yes I do,” he quickly shot back.

Lisa smiled and nodded her admiration to Sam. “I saw you and I liked you immediately. I thought you were cute. That’s why I came over to talk with you. And after talking for a while I knew that you were smart and I liked your sense of humor. I immediately wanted to see you again.”

“Is that when you decided to turn me into a girl?”

Lisa could hear a strong defensive edge in Sam’s voice. As sweetly as possible she tried to explain and elaborate. “No. At that point in time I had no intention of going this far. Like I said before, you can’t force someone to transform their thoughts and lifestyle and emotions and become feminine. They have to want it.”

“You think I wanted to do this?”

“Yes Samantha, I do. And so do you. Deep down inside you do. When I first met you, I had no intention of going through this process with you. In the back of mind I hoped that you might be the one, but it wasn’t predominate in my mind. First and foremost I just wanted to meet you and spend some time with you. I wanted to go on a date or two and have some fun. I went on dates with lots of guys. But after the first couple of dates I really, truly liked you. And after those first few dates I did decide that you might be the one for me.”

“You thought I wanted to be turned into a girl?”

“Yes and no. I thought you might have the potential to be interested in experiencing a softer and better side to life. But no, I wasn’t sure that you would be interested. I hoped though. Do you remember what we talked about on those first dates?”

“Not specifically.”

“Ok, let me put this to you. A couple of weeks ago you were at my mom and dad’s and I was at school. You and mom took some elected officials to the basketball game. Remember?”

“Yes.” Sam did remember.

“Miss Mona asked you to find out some information from one of the men. So you had a discussion about movies. Miss Mona told you what questions to ask. Right?”

“We talked about movies, didn’t we?” Sam conceded, thinking back to their first dates.

“A couple of times. And we also talked about books and television and celebrities.”

“And from that you decided that I wanted to be a girl.”

“It gave me some clues. Do you remember the congressman? From your conversation mom determined that your man liked bondage. And he liked to be on both ends of the hand cuffs. He liked sexually strong and dominating actresses. One of these days, Miss Mona will introduce the congressman to a tall, athletic brunette. You can tell some interesting things from a simple conversation about movies.

“But back to you. After several dates I had a really good feeling about you Samantha. So I invited you home. And that is when you had your big interview. I still apologize for the intensity and not warning you about that meeting, but it was the only way to get honest and spontaneous answers. They spent much of their time asking you about family, right? And your youth? They determined that you were not a testosterone driven boy. You never got in fights in school, you didn’t play sports, you were really smart and you were devoted to your mother.”

“And that made me a girl wannabe?”

“Not by itself. But they too thought you might be interested in what we had to offer. For some reason Miss Maggie is really good at reading boys. She has a knack and she has been proven correct time after time. She gave you a strong stamp of approval.

“But what gave us, me, even more confidence was your dressing test that week. I’m sorry Samantha, but the circumstances were contrived to determine if you had the interest and ability to transform yourself into a feminine boy. Samantha, we were stunned. You were phenomenal, you were beautiful and you were a natural. After the party that night we were pretty much convinced that you enjoyed the prospect of being given the opportunity to express your latent feminine desires.”

“So after being tricked into dressing as a girl you decided that I wanted to be one?”

“Almost. But Samantha, we had to be sure. So we brought in experts. You have had several conversations with Dr. Ratchet, and each time the two of you met she was evaluating you. And then there was the back ground check.”

“You sent someone to spy on me?”

“Not exactly Samantha. That black passport you have came with a string or two attached. There is no way that you should have that kind of passport, and neither should I for that matter. Miss Mona had to call in some favors to get them for us. But even with the favor, the individual that helped you get that insisted on a background check.”

“So the government ran a background check on me? They found out that I like to dress up as a girl?” For some reason this concerned Sam more than the other revelations.

“Actually it was the Secret Service, and no they didn’t find out about your dressing and living as a girl. What they found out was what kind of person you are.”

“And what kind of person am I?”

“A very good one.”

“Like what did they find out?”

“As a kid, you spent much of your play time with Amber. And they found out that when your future foster parents invited you to dinner that you never finished your food. You always said that you were full, and then you asked if you could take the scraps home to eat later. But your foster parents knew that you were taking them home for your mother.”

Sam turned away and covered his face. Lisa heard a sniffle and waited for Sam. She took a few bites from her chocolate mousse and said nothing. Sam pulled a tissue from his purse and dabbed his eyes, then turned back to the table.

After a couple of sniffles he said, “So now the government has a dossier on Sam Springer.”

“No they don’t. We would never do that to family, so we took care of it. I am told that the Secret Service files three copies of their report. The nice thing about our government is that sometimes they can be efficient, but they are a huge bureaucracy and if you have the desire you can use that to control things. Miss Mona’s contact at the State Department received one copy. Then he used systemic processes and asked for each of the other copies and promptly shredded them when they arrived.

“Did you know the government uses Microsoft just like us? The contact took the remaining electronic report and used a special edit command to change Sam to Samantha everywhere it appeared in the report. That report was used to provide Samantha Springer with security clearance for a diplomatic passport. Nowhere in the system will they find a Sam Springer. And when all of that was finished, a copy was given to Miss Mona.

“Miss Mona has a copy of my security clearance from the United States government?” Sam was impressed.

“She gave it to Dr. Ratchet. The doctor added her report and sent everything to three expert psychologists. They are experts in sexual reassignment cases. They evaluated your files to determine if you were a candidate for a sex change.”

“You want me to get a sex change?” Sam demanded.

“No. But I am being totally open with you Samantha. The final step in making sure that you would be happy was to get professional opinions. These doctors have no idea who you really are, so your privacy is still intact. One psychologist refused to rate you. She wanted to meet you in person. The second rated you as a good candidate and the third put you in the top category. Miss Maggie went and talked to each doctor personally and made sure of their diagnoses. Samantha, there is no doubt that you would make a great contribution and you would fit in perfectly with our family.”

Lisa stopped and let Sam absorb what she had said. Sam had been tested, interviewed, spied upon and rated by professional psychologists. And they had all come to the same decision; Sam wanted to be a girl. Or at least he wanted to live like one. Sam still couldn’t accept the fact that he wanted to be a girl. But he knew there was truth in what Lisa had said. He had always known. But he didn’t want to accept it just yet. He took another tack in his attempt to understand his situation. To fight back, as it were.

“Lisa, what is it with your “Family”? Are you mafia or something?”

Lisa giggled. “We’re a family Samantha; a rich one but just a family. We’re not CIA and we’re not KGB.”

“I don’t understand Lisa. The secrecy and the contacts and the congressmen the you own and … what happens if I say no Lisa?” He paused to look at his ring and twist it on his finger a few times. “What happens if I give you back this ring and say goodbye. Does the Family make me disappear?”

Lisa looked stunned. She actually fell backwards in her chair as she looked at Sam. Sam could see her eyes glistening and the start of a tear in the corner of her eye. Lisa picked up her napkin and covered the bottom half of her face. As she tried to compose herself she looked up, beyond Sam’s back and waved her hand. Sam quickly turned around and saw Andre half way to them from his table. He stopped and returned.

Sam quickly turned back to Lisa and her face was white. He had hit her hard. She leaned towards Sam and in a quivering voice she said, “Samantha, I don’t want to lose you. I pray that never happens. I don’t …” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Sam just stared in silence at her. He never in the world would have expected such a reaction from her. He was more than surprised.

Lisa lowered the napkin and crossed her arms on the table. She took another moment to steady herself then said, “If you decide to leave and go back to your own life, you would probably have an “exit” interview with Miss Mona and Miss Grace I suppose. You would be asked to observe the “live and let live” ethic. I’m sure you would be asked to never talk about me or the Hawthorne family. And you would be asked to never expose any of our family situations with the press or public. In return, we would leave you alone. If you refused to cooperate … you would not be harmed. Samantha that would never happen.” Lisa paused to make sure that Sam understood that, but then in an ominous tone she added, “But we would use all of our resources to discredit you.”

Lisa again needed a moment to compose herself. “Samantha, I would be devastated if you left me. You have no idea how much I love you. But if you do leave, you will never have a worry the rest of your life. I will make sure that doors always open for you and nothing stands in the way of your happiness. Mom will try and make me cut off all contact with you, but I promise that anything you need or want I will give to you.”

Lisa stopped and reached for her water glass, but it slipped from her grasp and spilled all over the table. Lisa just stared at it and tears began welling up in her eyes. She slumped back in her seat and continued to look down at the table, refusing to look at Sam.

“Excuse me,” she said and jumped up from the table and briskly walked to the powder room.

Sam sat in his seat and stared ahead as the waiter appeared and cleaned up the mess. He asked something but Sam ignored him. Several minutes later Andre walked over. In broken English he asked, “Mademoiselle, is you ok?”

“Yes,” he said absentmindedly.

“Is Mademoiselle Lisa ok?”

“I don’t know.” Sam pushed back his chair and walked to the girl’s restroom. He tried the door but it was locked. Sam knocked gently and announced, “Lisa it’s Sam.” Sam heard a click and tried the door again. It was now unlocked. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He locked it then leaned backwards against the door. Lisa was standing by the sink, a wet tissue in her hand and mascara streaks down her face.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked.

Lisa said nothing. She pulled her purse across the counter and reached inside. She took out her wallet and handed it to Sam. “Would you please go pay? Then we can leave.”

“You look like a raccoon,” Sam said in an attempt at humor. “Do you want some help?”

Lisa turned back to the mirror and said “No. No tip is needed.”

Sam left and went looking for their waiter. It took a bit of hand signs and broken English, but he got the bill and handed two one hundred euro notes to the man. He didn’t wait for change. Sam was about to go looking for Lisa, but Andre motioned him to the door. Lisa was standing outside. They walked back to their condo in silence.

CHAPTER 42

Lisa woke the next morning and reached for Sam. The opposite side of the bed was empty. Lisa quickly sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking towards the bathroom. Was Sam in there? No, the door was open and there was no light on. She jumped out of bed and wrapped a red, silk robe around her shoulders, then went looking for Sam.

“Samantha?” she called out as she walked through the empty halls. “Samantha? She yelled. “Are you here?” There was desperation in her voice and she was getting worried.

“I’m in here,” Sam called out.

Lisa followed the sound down the hall to another bedroom. She looked in the door and found Sam in bed. Sam was holding himself up on one elbow, and holding the duvet up with the other. “Would you please join me?” he pleaded.

Lisa tossed her robe on a chair and slid under the duvet. Sam reached across Lisa and laid the duvet over her. Then he snuggled next to her and laid his arm over her chest. They laid there for a minute or two, then Sam explained, “I woke up in the middle of the night; jet lag I guess, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was rolling around and I was afraid I would wake you up.

“So I came in here.” He paused for a few moments then said, “It gave me some time to think. Lisa, I want to apologize for last night. I was a complete ass.”

“No you were not,” Lisa protested.

“Yes I was,” Sam admitted. “Lisa, can I keep your ring and marry you? I want to be your wife.”

“Oh Samantha of course. You know I …”

Sam placed a finger over Lisa’s lips and whispered, “Shhhh. Please let me finish my apology. I was awake half the night rehearsing it. And I don’t remember a word of it now. Thank you for the second chance Lisa. I love you very much and I am so sorry for how I acted last night. I was an ass. You were of course correct about everything. You know me better than I know myself.

“I have always wanted an opportunity like you are giving me. Yes, I have always liked the idea of being feminine and pretty and pretending that I was a girl. I would never admit it aloud, but deep inside I thought about it and maybe even dreamed about it. I tried so hard for so many years to hide my feelings. I was afraid that I was admitting I was homosexual or a femme or just plain weird. And in spite of trying everything I could to deny my innermost feelings, last night I decided to finally admit them to myself and to you.

“For the life of me I don’t know how I could be so lucky to have you arrive and rescue me from myself. You have forced me to face my demons and defeat them. I have grown so much these last few months that I can’t imagine any other life now. I would never go back to plain old Sam. I want to be Samantha. I want to be your Samantha.”

Sam leaned over and gave Lisa a passionate kiss on her lips. He forced open Lisa’s lips and slid his tongue deep inside as he slid him self on top of Lisa, pinning her to the bed. After almost suffocating his lover, Sam released his lip lock and said, “Lisa my love, may I show you how much I love you?”

Sam kicked off the duvet and slid down between Lisa’s legs and took a deep breath of Lisa’s special fragrance. He gave her a quick flick with his tongue then looked up for his instructions. Lisa looked down and stroked his hair. “Samantha, you make me complete. You know what to do … slow, soft and feminine. We are feminine, are we not?”

Sam slid his hands under Lisa’s buttocks and gave her a squeeze. He even dug his nails into her butt. “Ohhh,” Lisa crooned and she laid back and spread her legs even wider. Sam stroked his tongue through her slit and reached her clit. A kiss, a lick, a soft exhale of warm breath and another soft caress with the tip of a tongue. Another squeeze of her soft, fleshy buttocks with his red tipped talons and Lisa was squirming like a little girl.

In a matter of a few minutes Lisa was screaming bloody murder. Sam looked up and said, “I hope the windows are closed or we’re going to have the police here in a few minutes.” Lisa laughed out loud until she had the hiccups. All was well again.

But Lisa was not going to let Sam off too easy after last night. And Sam wasn’t about to complain. He spent over fifteen minutes between Lisa’s legs, bringing her to several bucking and screaming orgasms. By the time that she was satiated her negligee was wrapped around her neck and almost strangling her. Her long curly hair was twisted into a damp mop and her thighs were quivering from their exertion. Lisa was satisfied with how her lover and courtesan had pleased her. It was time for returning the favor.

She switched places with Sam and laid in the opposite direction on top of him. They were in the classic 69 position. Lisa wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist and pushed her hands under his buttocks, then grabbed him with her nails and dug into his flesh. Sam yelped playfully but Lisa refused to release her grip.

“Do you like a little pain?” Lisa asked.

“Yes ma’am. I like anything you give me,” Sam said dutifully.

Lisa released her grip and said, “Good answer my silly filly. But I don’t believe in pain — not my schtick. How about you?”

“Not really,” Sam answered.

“Then let’s get down to business,” Lisa said. She pulled her hands from under Sam and gripped his penis with one hand and his testicles with the other. She gently caressed his balls while she stroked his penis and kissed his tip. Lisa gave him a very soft nibble then took him in her mouth and began sucking and stroking Sam’s stiff erection.

It didn’t take long before Sam announced, “I’m going to cum.” Much to his delight Lisa continued sucking on Sam until he ejaculated into her mouth. She held as much as she could in her mouth then released him. Another spurt hit her on the nose and slid down over her lips.

Lisa swung around on Sam and kissed him, pushing as much of the viscous fluid as she could into Sam’s mouth. He accepted her offer and swallowed as quickly as he could. Sam still didn’t like the taste of his own cum. Then he giggled and pointed at Lisa’s nose, “I got you,” he bragged.

“Lick it off would you please?”

Sam promptly licked her nose and lips. And then returned to her lips for a French kiss. Lisa pushed her breasts against his silicone breasts and twisted his curls in her hands. They broke their kiss and Lisa said, “You have the most exquisite hair, Samantha. It is really soft and curly. And I love your eyes and curly lashes. Everything about you is curly and cute. You’re a cute, curly-girly,” she decided.

“A curly-girly? Silly filly? How do you come up with these witticisms?”

“I’m smart, remember? I took English comp. in school.”

“That explains everything,” Sam agreed with a girly giggle.

“I like the way you laugh,” Lisa said. “In fact, I like everything there is about you, except for one thing.”

“What? You don’t think I’m perfect?”

“Almost. Pretty darn close, but your silicone breast forms are too … synthetic. You would be perfect with your own boobs, Samantha.”

“I know,” he said wistfully. “I’ve thought about it but I don’t know what to do.” He was worried about not being able to satisfy his mistress if he began taking hormones for his breasts.

Lisa knew what to do, but she didn’t want to bring it up now. She wanted to keep suggesting real breasts before she began a serious discussion. There would be other questions that could wait with Sam in his present state of mind. “Let’s talk about it later. But I think you would be awesome with your own breasts.” She kissed him to end the conversation. “Would you wash my hair for me?”

“Your pubic hair?” he asked playfully.

“Yeah. And maybe you can wash the stuff on top of my head afterwards?”

“Oui.”

An hour later the two beautiful girls were wearing sun dresses and sitting under the tree in the courtyard. Lisa’s hair was put up in rollers thanks to Sam, while Sam’s hair was air drying and turning into a mass of curls. His hair extensions were very, very good at holding his permanent. They were munching on croissants and sipping orange juice and chatting about the day’s activities. Sam was also uploading their pictures from yesterday. He sent them off to Maggie when he was finished.

The day was reserved for museums. They were going to visit Musée d’Orsay and then they were going to Musée de l’Orangerie. The main attraction at l’Orangerie was Claude Monet’s Nymphéas — his water lily paintings. The paintings covered the walls of two circular rooms, and Sam and Lisa found them to be very impressive. The d’Orsay was across the river and housed in an old train station. The building and its architecture was probably the most interesting part for Sam. But the art was varied and impressive. Both museums were awesome.

After hours of being on their feet the girls were happy to catch the subway back to their condominium. Both of them kicked off their shoes and sat in the shade of their favorite tree. They talked about weddings and dresses and bridesmaids. Sam was in a light hearted mood when he asked, “Lisa am I going to have to call Miss Mona mother? I think I would have trouble with that. And I know I can’t call Miss Maggie dad.”

Both girls began laughing at the thought of that. “Miss Mona and Miss Maggie will have to do,” Lisa decided.

“Who is going to be your maid of honor?” Sam asked.

“My sister Harriet. Who do you want for your maid of honor?”

“I have no idea,” Sam admitted. “Can I have Miss Maggie give me away?”

Lisa had to think about that. “I always dreamed about Maggie giving me away,” Lisa said. “But we have to be flexible, don’t we? I guess mom can give me away and you can have Maggie. Does that sound ok?”

“Yeah. But I have no one to be my maid of honor. Can I ask Amber?”

Lisa shook her head slowly. “Sorry, but this wedding will have to stay in the family.”

“Because you want to keep the family stuff secret, right?”

“And because I want to run for public office. I don’t think you would make a traditional wife as far as the political world is concerned. The right wing would have puppies if they found out. My political career would be dead before it even got started.”

“Are you really going to run for the presidency?”

“Yes. That is my intention.”

“Do you think you can win?” Sam asked.

Lisa took a deep breath and sighed. She shrugged her shoulders and let that answer the question.

“If you do win, what do I do? Hide?”

“Not at all. In public you will be my executive secretary and girl Friday. Everywhere I go, you go. And the neat thing is you want to major in poli sci. You can be my campaign manager and liaison with the press even.”

“And if you win am I the secret First Lady?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yep. I’m president, you’re first lady and silly filly.” Lisa emphasized “and”.

“Cool. It doesn’t get much better than that, does it? I’ll have to study hard and get lot’s of As in school.”

Lisa looked at Sam and cleared her voice. “Samantha, about school … uhmmm … what would you think about studying in Paris?” Sam just looked at her. “While I’m away at graduate school you could be here in Paris.”

“Paris? Oh I don’t know. I don’t know how to speak French.”

“You would learn it here,” Lisa quickly answered back.

“And what school would even take me?”

“There are private schools.”

Sam gave a sigh and said, “Can I think about it? I’m really not sure that it would be such a good idea. You know … my gender thing.”

“You are so pretty and passable that you wouldn’t have any problems. But go ahead and think about it. I myself think it would be cool. I’d love to go to school in Paris. I think it would be awesome.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because of politics. A French education is not a plus in our political wars. A Harvard MBA will provide a much better resumé. But you can do it. It won’t matter where you go to school. While I’m at Harvard sweating away in the dreary, smoggy and snow-covered Northeast, you could be in Paris living it up. That would be cool.”

“Are you pushing me?” Sam asked warily. “Because sometimes I wonder if you have plans all worked out for me.”

“I’ll stop,” Lisa said.

They were silent for a few minutes, sipping their drinks. Sam asked, “Can Jennifer be my maid of honor?”

“That’s difficult, Samantha. It’s a matter of social standing. We would have to clear that with Miss Grace.”

“Well who could be my maid of honor?” Sam asked with a bit of exasperation.

“One of the cousins. How about Gloria?”

“I guess I’ll have to think about it some more.” Sam said. He changed the topic, “Are we going clubbing tonight?”

“Yep. Is that ok with you?”

“Sure. We should see the Paris nightlife, right?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

After enjoying the afternoon, the girls moved indoors to prepare for their evening. Make up was over the top with glitter and bright colors. Lisa helped Sam with bright pink and green eye shadow, super bright rouge and glitter mascara. Their lipstick was a bright neon pink — very chic! And to top it off they used a little glitter on their faces. It was all done very tastefully — not!

Lisa tightened Sam’s corset, and Sam tightened Lisa’s. Sam asked Lisa if she was wearing a “sympathy” corset or if she really needed one for her dress. Lisa merely grinned. Lisa wore one of her push up bras with a dress having a low neck line and high hem line. Since Sam wasn’t endowed as well as Lisa, he had to wear his regular underwire bra and a straight bustline dress. During their dressing, Lisa did manage to make another comment about how great Sam would look with his own, real breasts — and how much Lisa would love to play with them.

Sam wore one of his club dresses, a black and white strapless dress with an empire waist and a short flirty skirt made of see-through lace and a pink underskirt that also served as a petticoat.

Sam added nude hose and his usual 4 inch black heels. And to finish the look he wore a long strand of fake pearls. Of course his engagement ring was prominently displayed to keep away the boys and make all the girls jealous.

Lisa and Sam studied the colored subway lines on their train brochure before collecting their purses and Andre. They walked to the subway and rode the train up to the Montmartre district. A short walk from the subway they reached their restaurant. It was only two stars but it was delicious all the same. They minimized their wine intake and left room for a late night snack of Grand Marnier crepes once they reached home. But before their return, they went to a local night club.

“Escualita?” Sam asked. “I think one of the girls at the salon might have mentioned this place.

“I’m told Sundays are the day to be here,” Lisa mentioned with a grin. “I think it will be exciting, Samantha.”

It was exciting — and shocking; at least for Sam. It was a high energy, loud and raucous club. But what made it interesting was that it was a gay club. And Sundays offered a unique twist — it was transvestite night. “Holy cow!” Sam muttered. The dance floor was covered with beautiful “girls” over dressed, under dressed and half dressed. Large uncovered breasts were popular and gorgeous bodies were everywhere. Bikinis, club dresses, and even some formals were seen. Hair was piled high on some girls and tied back in swinging ponytails on others. Make up was even wilder than Lisa’s and Sam’s. And everyone was either dancing or hanging onto each other.

People were holding hands, waists and even legs, as some stood and some sat at the same tables. But the majority of the crowd was on the dance floor bumping and grinding, showing off and flirting. The dance crowd moved like a well oiled machine, with waves of arms and heads bobbing across the floor. Powerful speakers were blasting music, and spotlights, lasers and UV lights flashed across the floor. A DJ was on a high stage dancing and laughing along with the music. The place looked like a cross between a circus and Carnival in Rio.

“There are no excuses for not dancing tonight,” Lisa yelled. Sam quickly understood why people were holding on to each other; it was the only way to communicate because you certainly couldn’t hear. In fact, Sam saw some girls wearing ear plugs. Lisa grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. They barely moved onto the dance floor when they were separated. Other girls moved in between them, dancing first with Sam, then with Lisa, then moving onto another girl. Sam quickly determined it was a friendly crowd and he decided to enjoy himself. He went with the flow, even when girls wrapped their arms around him and danced tight. He bumped his ass, pumped his arms, tossed his curly hair, spun around and accepted a hug or kiss on the hand before repeating.

Lisa was able to hunt him down and retrieve him some time later when they were both out of breath. They went hunting for a table but found nothing. Then Sam spotted Andre at a tiny little table by himself. She pulled Lisa to the table and took up residence. Andre pretended to ignore them while he watched the melee below them on the dance floor. Using hand signals Sam said, “Holy shit what a friggin’ party!” Then he asked for a drink.

Andre asked what he and Lisa wanted. Speaking — or yelling — in French to Lisa he said that he would get their drinks. The girls stayed at the table while Andre pushed his way through the crowd. As he made his way to a bar, he was easy to spot. Andre did not blend into the crowd. Not only was he too big, but he was not one of the beautiful people. Nor was he gay or a transvestite. Yet no one cared. He moved through the crowd no faster or slower than anyone else.

Lisa and Sam stood guard over their table, shared an occasional kiss — guess what? no one cared — and they watched the patrons. It was an unbelievable sight. Half naked boys, half naked transvestites and transsexuals that were so beautiful Sam was intrigued and often staring open mouthed. More than once Lisa tapped him on the chin to close that pretty-lipped gape. They tried to talk but soon gave up and discretely pointed instead.
Half an hour later Andre arrived with four glasses in his hands. Behind him a sexy TS was carrying another 4 glasses. The TS put her glasses on the table, just about filling it. Andre handed her a ten euro note and a business card. Sam and Lisa stared at Andre wondering what that was all about. He smiled but said — or motioned — nothing.

They stood at the table sipping champagne and watching the show. Andre indicated he would watch the drinks if they wanted to dance. Sure! Sam pulled Lisa down the steps onto the floor and once again they were split apart and melded into the scrum. They found each other later and managed to remain together by holding hands and keeping tightly together.

Sam watched beautiful boys and girls and sequins and tight dresses and tiny dresses and bare breasts and flailing hair and long legs with spike heels and pouty lips with hot colors flow around him. They were all moving up and down in rhythm to the music and wave of humanity. He could smell perfume and drinks and sweat, and feel hands and butts and swirling dresses and hanging bling all around him. This wasn’t just a single sense encounter, but an erotic blend of noise, smell, touch and sights that blew his mind. “What a riot,” he said into the ether.

The two girls moved back to their table and sipped their champagne while Andre again pretended not to know them. People came over and tried to pick them up, but the girls flashed their rings, hugged each other and indicated they were taken — by each other. It was true, they did belong to each other and neither was interested in anyone else.

But there were some tempting bodies strutting around the place. Wow! Hot, sexy and energy levels close to nuclear. “So this is Paris night life! I approve!” Sam yelled at Lisa. Lisa merely smiled, having no idea what Sam had said.

The two inamoratas made it to midnight and then their eardrums gave out. Lisa slipped Andre two fifty euro notes for their drinks on the way back to the subway station. The only disappointment of the night was they were too late for the crepe dessert. They had to go back to their room and make love with no crepe! “How barbaric,” Sam giggled. Lisa agreed.

Back in their bedroom they both fell on the bed in exhaustion. Lisa climbed on top of Sam and planted several lipstick kisses on his lips. Lisa was in a playful mood so she asked Sam, “Samantha I’m really tired, can we just go to sleep?”

Sam knew she was teasing. “Not unless you want to suffer the wrath of a horny girly-boy.” By calling himself a girly-boy, Sam was signaling that he had come to terms with his new situation. And he was also saying that he approved and was happy with his decision. So was Lisa.

Lisa laughed. “Yeah, like what?” she challenged Sam.

“I don’t know, but it won’t be pretty. And that’s a promise. I might steal all of your panties or makeup. The next time I set your hair I’ll frizz you to the moon! How would you like that little girl?”

“Well we can’t have that can we? How about I take off all of your clothes and you take off mine? Does that sound interesting?” Let the games begin. Slowly and as erotically as possible Sam began removing jewelry and clothing items from his betrothed. He did it slowly while he planted lipstick marks on various portions of her anatomy. He stroked her hair and skin and licked her nipples and nibbled on her ear lobe. He covered his lover and fiancée in goose bumps and shivers. And his girlfriend loved it.

After stripping down, Lisa took Sam’s hand and led him to the vanity and seated him. She applied fresh lipstick to his lips and spritzed him with their perfume, and brushed a bit more blush on his cheeks. “I want my girl to be pretty all the time,” Lisa said. “Do you like being pretty, Samantha?”

“I love it,” Sam answered.

“You are going to be a beautiful girl, Samantha. So would you be interested in doing things backwards tonight?”

“Sure. Whatever pleases you,” Sam said sincerely.

“Lie on the bed my pretty girl and on your back.” Sam obediently laid down on the bed, his penis enlarged and lying on his stomach. Lisa straddled Sam, but she faced away from him. From a kneeling position she settled down on Sam’s penis, guiding him into her. With just a bit of shuffling, Lisa had Sam inside her, but they were still facing the wrong way. “Are you still ok?” Lisa asked.

“Interesting, but ok. I kind of like this,” Sam answered.

Lisa was still on her knees, so she leaned forward and placed her hands on the bed on either side of Sam’s knees. Then she slid off her knees and extended her legs up the side of Sam and pushed her feet under his armpits. “Still ok?”

“Yep.”

Lisa laid down on Sam’s legs and she wrapped her arms around his ankles. They were now both in a prone position, facing opposite directions and with Sam’s penis lodged inside Lisa’s vagina. Lisa was applying pressure on Sam’s penis, bending it down and at the same time pressing deep inside her. “You have pretty toenails,” she observed with her dry wit.

“Thanks,” Sam replied. “Would you care to touch them up while you’re down there?”

“Maybe later.”

Lisa laid in that position for a few moments, becoming accustomed to the sensations and pressure. She decided she liked the new position and began squeezing Sam’s penis with her vaginal muscles. She slid up and down and squirmed around as she quickly brought herself to a wonderful orgasm. And the best part was that she had provided just a little stimulation to Sam. She would be able to have several orgasms before Sam would reach his own nirvana. It was a great position for Lisa and she took advantage of it once, twice, and three more times.

Lisa enjoyed their newest position but she didn’t scream once. Sam found it interesting, but not nearly as intense as his backwards over the side of the bed position. But it was definitely a position they would try again. He never met an orgasm that he didn’t enjoy.

“That internet thing of yours is good for something,” Sam said. “What do you call this position?”

“The upside down chick on the girly boy with fresh lipstick and pouty lips position. What, you couldn’t guess?”

“That would have been my first guess,” Sam conceded.

Lisa rolled off Sam and remained facing the bottom of the bed. “Samantha girl, would you be a dear please and come kiss my pussy.” She spread her legs inviting Sam between them.

But Sam wasn’t all that keen to the idea. He had his sexual release, and so had Lisa. “You want me to go down on you? But we just had intercourse.”

Lisa tried to pout and sound girlish. “But I love having my curly girly between my legs. I love the sensation of watching my pretty filly kiss and lick me and drive me absolutely insane. And you have fresh lipstick and wonderful smelling perfume. Please sweetie?”

Sam was in a difficult position and there was only one way out. He removed his condom and wiped himself clean, then crawled between Lisa’s legs. He took his position, pouted his lips, looked up at his mistress and waited for her instructions. Lisa reached down and twirled one of Sam’s curls on her finger. “My god you are beautiful Samantha. You are the sexiest thing on the face of the Earth. Would you please be gentle and slow?”

Sam had his instructions and he gently kissed Lisa’s vulva, then slid his tongue between her labia. He drew his tongue up her slit and reached her clit, where he gave it a little flick. He repeated the process three or four more times until he had her nice and wet. Then he pushed his tongue a little deeper and once again came up to her clitoris. He pushed his tongue against her G-spot and slowly slid his tongue back and forth across her most sensitive erogenous spot.

“Slower, dear, slower. And not so hard, gentle please, gentle. Take your time, we have all night. How about a kiss from those luscious pink lips Samantha girl?” Lisa knew Sam was not that interested in pleasuring his fiancée. He had enjoyed his orgasm, and Lisa knew that that was usually all it took to send a boy to dreamland. But Sam was no longer a boy, he was more than that. Lisa repeatedly called him a girl, reinforcing his newly accepted status in their relationship. Sam was now Samantha and he was a girl. Now Lisa had to put him in his place. The pecking order had Lisa on the top and Sam on the bottom; the same way as they screwed. Lisa was reminding him of that right now.

A few minutes later Lisa’s hips began bucking and seconds afterwards she was screaming in ecstasy. Damn she was loud! Sam pulled back slightly and waited for her to return to Earth. He wasn’t happy about having to give her additional sex after they had had intercourse. She didn’t do that for him. And he was really tired. But he obediently remained between her legs waiting to see if he was going to repeat the process. And yes he was.

Once more Lisa asked Sam to use his talented tongue and bring her to orgasm. Sam was tired, his tongue and jaw were tired, but he performed admirably. And Lisa showed her appreciation with blood curdling screams. God she liked to scream! Lisa was almost satisfied with two oral orgasms, but she wanted to go one step further.

Thank you Samantha. Would you please go back to the head and lay on your back? “Now what?” Sam thought, but he complied with her instructions. Lisa crawled up to the head of the bed and positioned herself over Sam’s face. She crouched down and presented her crotch to his mouth. “Don’t be gentle Samantha. Smear your lipstick all over my snatch. That is what you boys call it, a snatch; right?”

Sam never answered. Lisa lowered herself down to Sam’s face and applied a bit of weight to his mouth. As Sam pushed his tongue into her snatch, she rubbed herself sideways and around Sam’s face, smearing his lipstick and her scent and juices all over his face. Even though Lisa’s crotch was waxed for the most part, her little Brazilian patch scratched and scrubbed Sam’s face. She smashed his nose and at times he had to breathe through his mouth.

Lisa continued to push herself around on his face, giving him plenty of opportunities to suck and lick and tongue her sensitive clit. She was insatiable in her demand for satisfaction and pleasure. Lisa was physically exerting her control over Sam as she kept him pinned to the bed and dominated by her sexual demands. She continued until Sam had satisfied her and she had slammed her clit tightly against Sam’s nose and screamed in delight.

“My god you are awesome, Samantha,” she said as she slumped next to him. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. She could taste her scent and fluids on Sam’s lips, and smell her aroma all over his face. She wasn’t exactly thrilled by the taste or scent, but she had to give Sam the impression she loved it all. She had to make Sam understand that she loved his lesbian impression.

Lying next to Sam she blew in his ear then stuck her tongue in the ear. Goose bumps ran down Sam’s back. She slid her hand over Sam’s silicone breasts, across his stomach and reached for his flaccid penis. She took him in her hand and gently squeezed several times until he began to respond. It was time to thank Sam for his extra effort and exertion.

When she had him hard, she stroked his shaft several times. Then she slid down a bit and cupped his scrotum and testicles in her hand, and gently stroked him. She soon had him rigid and primed for additional sex. Lisa released his balls and reached for his face. She pushed her finger against Sam’s lips until he let her in. She slid her finger in and out as Sam sucked on her finger.

When her finger was good and wet, she reached deep between Sam’s thighs and found his ass. She gently pushed her finger in as far as it would go. “Holy shit!” Sam gasped. “Are you going to milk me?” he worried.

“Is that what you want?” Lisa answered.

“No. It’s no fun. There is absolutely no enjoyment in cumming that way,” he told her.

Instead of answering Lisa began stroking him; in and out of his ass. “Please don’t” Sam begged

“I won’t make you cum,” Lisa promised as she continued stroking. She merely wanted to dominate her girly boy a little more. He needed to understand that she could and would do what she wanted. Sam was hers, not the other way around.

On the other hand — finger — she did want to thank him for his efforts. She removed her finger and grasped Sam’s penis and began stroking again. She slowly stroked him until he exploded all over his stomach. “Oh my,” Lisa whispered. “You are one strong filly,” she giggled. Both of them understood her mixing of female and masculine metaphors. Lisa thought she was clever, while Sam decided to ignore the wording. “You have great stamina, Samantha.” She leaned over for another kiss. “Thank you for your extra attention tonight. You have been too magnanimous to me, Samantha. No wonder I love you so much.”

Sam dutifully responded, “I love you too.”

“Come on,” Lisa said as she pushed herself to her hands and knees. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed. Don’t forget your corset and bra before you put on your negligee.”

CHAPTER 43

The next morning they slept until nine and then still managed to lie in bed for another half hour.

“Samantha are you ready for another wonderful, fun-filled day in Paris?”

“Today is the Louvre, right? Man, I am so stiff and sore from last night and all of that dancing and … stuff,” he said with a smile.

Lisa corrected him, “GIRL, you are so stiff.” Then she quickly slid her hand down to his crotch and grabbed his penis. “Do you mean down here? I don’t think so.” They both giggled.

“I mean my legs and thighs. All that dancing last night; I’m not used to that. Especially in high heels.”

“And you wanted to wear 4 inch heels all day. You still need some more practice and training before you can do that.”

“But I looked good, didn’t I,” he bragged. “Are we still going to the salon first?”

“Of course. Our appointment is at 11.” Lisa stopped for a moment then excitedly said, “Hold just a min,” and she grabbed her cell phone. She hit a speed dial number and chatted for a minute or two in French. Then she returned to her stiff and sore boy. “I’ve changed our appointment. I’m stiff too, so were going to get a massage and facial. How does that sound?”

“Soothing. Thanks, that’s a nice idea.”

“You have to take off your breast forms.” Lisa helped pull Sam’s negligee over his head and she tossed it to the foot of the bed. Then she peeled off his silicone boobs and carefully laid them on the night stand. “Wait,” she told her naked boy, and she went to retrieve some cotton balls and solvent.

A naked Lisa returned with the cleaning aids and the boxes for Sam’s fake boobs. She placed the supple forms upside down in their boxes and poured solvent over the glue. Then Lisa sat next to Sam and began cleaning the remaining glue off his chest. “You look so bare without your breasts. And you look small; too small.” Sam said nothing, but instead enjoyed Lisa’s attention and pampering. “What do you think about getting your own breasts, Samantha? It would make life much easier and more enjoyable for you.”

Sam hemmed and hawed a bit. “A boy with boobs? I’m not sure about that. And I don’t know if I want to go under the knife.”

“You shouldn’t consider yourself a boy with boobs, Samantha. You should think of yourself as a girl with a penis and balls. That’s more sexy and romantic. That’s how I see you. That’s who I have sex with.”

“Maybe,” he grudgingly admitted.

“There is no maybe. You’re going to live as a girl so you need to start thinking that way.”

“I guess.”

“And you don’t have to go under the knife you know. There are other … even better ways to get sexy boobs. You could grow your own you know.” Lisa held her breath waiting to hear what Sam would say.

“But there are negative side effects to that method, you know.”

Ok, he wasn’t quite ready to accept the idea. Lisa had more than two weeks to work on him. And she did have a good comeback for him, “Miss Grace has a saying about that. To paraphrase her, “Side effects are negative only if you make them negative”. She was talking about life in general, but I think it applies. Think about it my little pretty.”

Lisa and Sam ran through their morning exercises (stomach crunches and sit ups for Sam), washed and moisturized their faces, tightened and tied Sam’s corset, slid his small breast forms into his comfy, underwire bra and slipped into white sun dresses for the day. Since they would be getting a facial at the salon they applied only a bit of light pink lipstick.

They left their apartment and walked to a sidewalk café for coffee and a croissant. “It doesn’t get any more Parisian than this,” Lisa said as they watched the people walk by. They were admiring the latest fashions, which seemed to include calf high boots.

Just to make small talk Lisa asked, “So Samantha, how often do you think a girl should go to the salon?”

“Every day!” he quipped.

Lisa laughed. “That might be a little too often. How about twice a week? How does that sound?”

“I don’t think that’s enough for beautiful rich girls like us,” he giggled. “That might be ok for a working girl on a budget though.”

“There are some things that you have certainly embraced as a girl, Samantha.” Lisa meant that as a compliment. “But you do have to be careful.”

“About what?”

“Certainly your hair. And especially if you have treated or colored hair. Too many chemicals will damage your hair.”

“Even extensions?”

“Your extensions are human hair, so the answer is yes. But eventually you will grow out of your extensions and your own hair will be long enough to be styled. Salons always want to touch up your roots and treat your hair. You have to say no before they do damage to the shafts. And you have another very real problem.”

“What?”

“You’re a guy. You don’t have the real-girl hair gene. You might also be susceptible to male pattern baldness. And if not baldness, hair thinning is a definite possibility. Did your dad have a receding hairline or anything?”

“I have no idea about my dad.”

“I understand,” Lisa said sympathetically. “So you have to be extra careful about too much salon attention. There is only one sure-fire way to protect your hair.”

“What?” Sam was expecting some type of treatment or at least a philosophy on caring for your hair. What he heard startled him. Having long beautiful hair was important to his feminine persona, and even if he was a boy underneath, Lisa was right about his outer appearance. He would be spending the rest of his life looking like a girl. He wanted to look like a pretty, beautiful and sexy girl for the rest of his life.

“Hormones. Female hormones like estrogen will protect your hair. They’re the only thing that can do it.” Enough said. Lisa had made another powerful point for Sam to consider.
Lisa quickly changed the subject. “Are you ready to go get your massage?”

They enjoyed their massage and facial, caught a light salad (they had to cut back on French cuisine somewhere) and then spent the afternoon at the Louvre. The museum was large and opulent. They walked through many corridors and galleries and passed some great art before they reached the Louvre’s piá¨ce de résistance; the Mona Lisa.

The Mona Lisa was behind thick bullet proof glass, and was roped off to keep people back. And in spite of numerous signs prohibiting photographic flashes and a security guard standing right next to the famous painting, the area was filled with Japanese tourists taking their pictures in front of the painting and flashing their flashes. Lisa and Sam were unable to get close enough to see the true greatness of the painting. It was disappointing.

In the late afternoon they grew tired of the Louvre and went searching for ice cream. They walked past the Notre Dame Cathedral — they would be back later in the week — and strolled along the Seine enjoying their ice cream and each other. If ever two kids were in love, it was certainly these two. They held hands and talked and laughed and hugged and French kissed.

And so went their first week in Paris. They were the epitome of young, pretty and classy. They dressed and walked like world class models, they spoke and acted like aristocrats, they attracted attention like movie stars and they enjoyed their time together like conjoined lovers. Anyone that saw them envied them; and everyone remembered those two girls. What a pair! Beautiful dresses, classy hats, silk stockings (NO BARE LEGS!), impeccably coiffed and manicured, gorgeous skin and makeup, bling (jewelry for you old people) that quietly said not only money but taste and attitude. They strutted, they waltzed and spun and danced their way around the tourist spots of Paris. They ate at the best restaurants, they intrigued, teased and flirted with the waiters, they ordered the best wines France had to offer and they never over imbibed. They walked hand in hand, arm in arm and with arms wrapped around waists and shoulders and necks. And they kissed! IN PUBLIC! French kissed. Deep and passionate kisses. Kisses that announced love and devotion.

And during after hours, in the privacy of their boudoir they made true love to one another. They performed an intricate, ritualistic, dance of soft, slow, erotic passion for each other; and to their very essence. They honored one another in their sexual fantasies. They gave selflessly and received ever slower eroticism in return. These were two girls presenting gifts and favors and honor to one another.

This was no torrid and frenzied affair. These two inamoratas simmered amid sultry and fragrant scents, between silk sheets and negligees and with ubá«r feminine grace and style.
Erotic and spiritual, their acts of love were followed with encores, then blessed with sleep so deep that only the physically satiated, the emotionally fulfilled and the truly loved could dream of such bliss.

Paris belonged to Lisa Hawthorne and Samantha Springer. And they belonged to Paris. It was a very equitable trade. While their imprint on Paris would be miniscule and temporary, Paris’ imprint on them would be indelible and permanent.

CHAPTER 44

Sam snapped shut the clasps on his traveling valise. “Samantha we must get going,” Lisa yelled from the first floor. Please!”

Sam stumbled down the stairway with his small pink valise. Andre rushed up and took it from him. Lisa was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “I can’t believe I did that again last night.”

Lisa smiled and stroked her boys arm. “Silly filly, you wanted to wear those 4 inch heels and dance all night. I told you to take them off. I warned you that you would be stiff and sore again today.”

Sam faked a fall onto Lisa. “Now you tell me! But you didn’t help.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. That internet thing of yours almost killed me last night. I have never in my life bent over that far. I thought you broke me.”

“I tried,” Lisa bragged. “Girly stallions and silly fillies need to be broken. You’re lucky I didn’t throw a bridle and saddle on you.” Both laughed as Lisa continued to hold Sam upright. “Come on now, we have to get to the subway or we will miss our train.”

“I want a massage,” Sam begged.

“In Switzerland. Maybe I can find something for you. You know, the other thing you could do is suck it up like a big girl.”

“Easy for you to say, you are a big girl,” Sam said with a big smile. He really loved this girl. Andre helped them with their luggage and they made a dash — a semi-fast walk — to the subway. They caught the train and squeezed into a cramped cabin as they rode to the train station. Lisa already had their tickets and they stopped just long enough to confirm the track they needed, then the three of them hustled off to their train.

It was still early on a Monday morning, the day after another night of clubbing at Escualita, and both girls were exhausted. They slept most of the way to Zurich. When they reached Zurich they were both still stiff and sore, but they were awake. They changed trains and traveled south to Bern. It was a beautiful day and the mountain vistas were inspiring.

“So you two are twins?” Sam asked again. He knew the answer, but he was trying to stimulate a little conversation.

“Ever since we were born,” Lisa giggled.

“But not identical twins.”

“Correct.”

“And Harriet is going to school here?”

“Yep.”

“A girl’s finishing school? You mean like girly-stuff finishing school or a school where just girls are allowed in?”

“Both. It’s a liberal arts school for girls only. Kind of like the seven sisters in the US. It’s a very good academic school and a high-end, prestigious school. And it is very expensive.” There was much more to Harriet’s school but it was still too early for Sam to know all the details.

“So does Harriet have to work in the cafeteria to help pay for her tuition?”

Lisa merely laughed. It was a funny comment after all.

“So why is she here and you’re not?”

“Because mom always liked her best,” Lisa said with levity. “Because it fits Harriet. And Harvard now fits me.”

“Is Harriet going into politics also?”

“No, that’s not our — mom’s — intention. Harriet is going to be our international girl. She will probably spend her time in Europe or Asia and run our business there. You know there is a reason for her going to school in Switzerland. Want to take a guess?”

“Nope, I don’t think I have to guess. Banking; right?”

Banking was half correct. There was also another reason for Harriet to be going to school here. This school was the best in the world at training post op transsexual boys to function and flourish as girls in the real world. They had numerous psychologists that helped with the emotions of hormones and transitioning. They taught women’s studies, transsexual studies and the history and basis of paternalistic societies. They believed strongly in the “know thine enemy” philosophy; preparing boys to become demure girls without becoming submissive sissies or victims. Guilt and doubt were left at the gate to the campus and confidence building was the goal of the day.

In addition, the academic programs were excellent. They had superb academic credentials and were providing Harriet with a great start on international financing and business. Plus they taught sex; in the classroom and the lab. The “girls” were given firsthand practice in becoming the best lovers in the world.

“Yep, banking,” Lisa confirmed.

The train cruised into Bern and came to a stop. They grabbed as much luggage as they could, and Andre hauled the rest out to the platform.

“Hey Lisa,” a sweet voice yelled. Looking down the platform Sam saw a hand waving in the air. Lisa waved back and the other hand came walking over. Harriet did not run but she moved quickly in a very feminine and controlled motion. She wasn’t strutting but there could be no doubt that she was graceful and exotic in a most feminine context.

She was about the same size as Lisa, maybe a bit smaller, and she had a look that said the two girls might not be identical twins, but there was no doubt that they were sisters. She was dressed fashionably but tastefully. Her flower print skirt was above the knee but it hung perfectly with no wrinkles or creases or static cling. She wore suntan hose and two inch white heels. Her white blouse had a bit of lace around the neck and cuffs on the long sleeves, and nary a wrinkle or crooked seam. Her jewelry consisted of simple but elegant pearls.

Harriet’s hair was the same color as Lisa’s but much longer and curlier. It almost looked like Sam’s curly style. The curls were not as tight as Sam’s but they were high lighted with streaks of lighter color. Sam had seen her complexion before; it was perfect and reminded him of the girls back at the salon. She had obviously gone through Dr. Ratchet’s skin regimen. Her make up was minimalist but very, VERY pretty. The light pink color of her well manicured nails matched her light pink lipstick.

Harriet was a very pretty and elegant girl. She seemed to embody the epitome of femininity without over doing any single aspect. Sam’s first thought was that she was a perfect girl. She looked perfect, she moved and acted perfect, and she dressed perfect. Maybe too perfect.

“Long time no see,” Harriet said with a definite German accent as she hugged and kissed her sister.

“Oh it’s so good to see you too,” Lisa responded as they hugged for a few moments. They ended their embrace and turned to Sam. “Harriet, I would like to introduce you to my very best friend and fiancée, Samantha. Samantha, I am proud to present my sister Harriet.”

“You are a beautiful girl, Samantha. I can see why Lisa is so infatuated with you.” Then Harriet gave Sam a big hug and kiss. Without warning Harriet forced her tongue inside Sam’s mouth and touched his tongue with a quick flick. Harriet broke their embrace and gave Sam an intriguing smile. It was almost a smirk. Sam was stunned at Harriet’s boldness and her familiar kiss. In Sam’s opinion the kiss was too familiar for two people just meeting. It wasn’t as if they were long lost cousins.

“Welcome to Switzerland. Let me help you with your luggage and let’s go find a taxi. They all grabbed a bag and headed outside. Lisa and Harriet chatted all the way outside, trying to catch up on missing time. Harriet hailed two taxis. They filled the boots with their luggage and the girls jumped into one taxi, while Andre followed behind in the second.

“Samantha is feeling the effects of last night,” Lisa said. “Too much dancing in the heels I told her to take off. But she wanted to look flashy.”

“I did look good,” Samantha threw in.

“Now she wants a massage. Is there a masseuse at the hotel?”

“Even better,” Harriet said. “I would be happy to give Samantha a massage.”

“You’re a masseuse now?” Lisa asked.

“Hey, they teach us all kind of things at St. Hermaphrodite.”

Sam wasn’t sure what he had just heard. He had to ask, “St. Hermaphrodite? Is that the name of your school?”

“Not technically. The inmates refer to it as St. Hermaphrodite School of Biblical and Sexual Studies,” Harriet said with a grin.

“Sounds interesting,” Sam said. “Maybe I should go there.”

Harriet laughed, “I don’t think so.”

Lisa jumped in, “Samantha is thinking about going to school in Paris.”

“I am?” Sam said to himself.

“Do it,” Harriet advised Sam. “Europe knows how to finish off a girl.”

Lisa flashed Harriet a nasty look.

Harriet flipped open her cell phone and said, “I’ll see about getting you a massage.” She must have reached the hotel because she broke into French. Her French was perfect as far as Sam could tell.

When Harriet closed off, Sam asked, “How many languages do you know?”

“Oh, about three well, and another two or three good enough to get around.”

“Which ones do you know?” Sam asked to make conversation.

“I’m pretty good with English, French and German. I can get by in Italian and Spanish, but I’m totally lost in Greek. Plus, everyone there is … difficult,” she said with a forced smile.

They arrived at the hotel, and Lisa and Samantha waited for Andre while Harriet went ahead. Andre arrived and they collected all their luggage and handed it off to the bellhops. Harriet waved them over and the four of them walked over to the elevators. There were seven elevators, three plus three and a seventh off by itself. A boy took them to the odd elevator. He called the elevator and they all stepped inside. Harriet inserted a key and punched the button.

Sam looked at Harriet with a quizzical look.

Harriet laughed and said, “Come on Samantha, you should know by now that we stay in the penthouse.”

Sam gave her a knowing smile. They stepped off the elevator and Harriet handed Andre a key. “You are in B she said, pointing down the hall.” Turning to Sam, she said, “And you pretty boy are in … A.” Harriet flipped the boy a ten Euro note and said something in German. He left and the girls went into their room.

“I like exploring on my own,” Harriet said to Lisa and Sam. They walked into a luxurious apartment. The carpeting was so plush they sunk into their ankles. There was an eating area and kitchen, a sitting room with a 55 inch television and … one bedroom. They entered the bedroom and found one king size bed and two baths. Sam flashed Lisa a quizzical look but she ignored him. Off the sitting room was a sliding glass door and a balcony. Harriet led them all out on the balcony.

“Nice view,” Lisa said.

Harriet pointed to the Alps, and then began pointing out sights around the city. It was a beautiful, clear day and the view was really impressive. A bell rang and they went inside. Sam was expecting their bags, which did indeed arrive, but in addition a sturdy gurney was rolled in. Harriet spoke German and handled everything. While Harriet was busy Sam pulled Lisa aside. In a whisper he said “There is only one bed.”

“Yes. I saw that.”

“Well …” Sam wasn’t sure what was going on, but this looked odd indeed.

Lisa giggled and said, “I guess she could only get one bed.”

Sam looked around the sitting room and asked, “Is she, or one of us going to sleep on the couch?”

“No,” Lisa giggled again. “We can all share, can’t we?”

“We can?” Sam asked in a stunned whisper.

“Yes we can. We’re almost family. Stop worrying, you’ll have plenty of room. It looks like a big bed.”

The size of the bed wasn’t Sam’s concern.

Harriet had finished with the bellhops and she turned her attention to the other two girls. “I’d like to get moving because there is a lot I would like to show you. But first we have to give Samantha his massage. Sorry to say, but there is going to be a fair bit of walking.”

Harriet pulled the gurney like thing into the center of the sitting room and tossed a pillow on one end. “Samantha, would you please strip down to your lingerie, please?” Harriet didn’t wait for an answer as she began poking around under the gurney. She found a couple of bottles and set them on the coffee table. While she waited for Sam she opened a couple of the bottles and sniffed their aroma.

Lisa found a French Cosmopolitan and pulled a chair onto the balcony. She left the sliding glass door open. Sam went into the bath looking for a bathrobe. He didn’t want to waste time looking through his luggage. He removed his dress, heels, hosiery and corset, put on the robe and then returned to the sitting room.

Harriet gave him a silly grin. “Samantha, you can toss the robe on the sofa. I want to see how pretty you are.”

Sam was not comfortable with Harriet. She was way too forward for him. He looked for Lisa’s help and support, but she was on the balcony flipping through the magazine. She was ignoring Sam and Harriet.

Actually she was listening very carefully. But she was not about to come to Sam’s rescue. Lisa was grinning more than Harriet.

“You can face the balcony and enjoy the view of Bern,” Harriet said.

Sam laid on the table, tummy down. He pulled the pillow under his chin and looked outside. Harriet poured a bit of oil on the back of his thigh and began his massage. Wow! She really was good. Sam was amazed as she worked out the kinks and tightness in his legs. Harriet worked over one leg and then moved to the other. She added more lotion and her hands gripped and rubbed and moved and massaged all of the aches out of Sam’s legs.

After fifteen short minutes Harriet said, “Roll over please.” Sam didn’t move. “Samantha, are you still with us?” Harriet teased. Sam still didn’t move. Harriet walked to the head of the table and looked Sam in the eye. “Would you roll over please?”

Sam reluctantly rolled over on his back. It became instantly obvious to Harriet why he didn’t want to roll over. Sam had an erection. There was a shapely bulge in his pink panties. Harriet grinned from ear to ear and said, “Samantha I would have been very disappointed if you didn’t have an erection. I would have been insulted if you were flaccid. Don’t worry sweetie, its ok.”

Harriet poured some more lotion on her hands and began working the front of Sam’s thighs. Sam’s erection subsided for the most part as Harriet worked all the knots and pains out of his legs. She really was good.

Ten minutes later, Harriet had finished both legs. Without warning, she slid her hand inside Sam’s panties and began massaging his penis. Sam quickly jumped up and pushed Harriet’s hand away.

“That’s enough, thank you” he said.

“I’m not done Samantha. It’s ok. I’ll take good care of you.”

“Lisa is right over there,” Sam said as if it was a threat.

Harriet called his bluff, “Lisa! Do you have a second?”

Lisa knew exactly what was going on. She closed her magazine and walked inside. Plopping herself on the sofa she said, “Its ok, Samantha. Relax and enjoy it. It’s ok, really.” Then she sat back to watch.

Sam was flabbergasted. He was totally confused and befuddled. What the hell was going on?

Harriet grabbed the waistline of his panties and began tugging on them. “Lift up your hips and let me pull these off,” Harriet said. Dumbstruck, Sam did as he was told. Harriet slowly pulled his panties down his legs and over his feet. She tossed them on the sofa next to Lisa. Moving up her “customer”, Harriet poured a bit of lotion in her hand and rubbed it over Sam’s crotch and stomach and penis. His penis immediately sprung up rock hard. Harriet looked over at Lisa and said, “I think he likes it.”

Sam was totally confused, and freaked out. “This wasn’t right. This was not right!” he was thinking. Yet there on the sofa sat his fiancée and she was … WATCHING! And she was smiling at Sam. What the hell was going on? Sam knew she had a kinky streak in her, but this was absurd! Having sex with her sister? It was just too much to comprehend.

Finally Lisa spoke, “Samantha, you are allowed to enjoy yourself. It’s ok, really. Lie back, relax and let Harriet pleasure you. She wants to do this, please let her.”

“Holy crap!” he thought. He spoke, “Lisa, you want Harriet to do this? Really? Why?”

“Samantha, we are family. We are here to enjoy each other. Please, enjoy her gift. She wants to please you.”

Resignedly, Sam fell back on the table. Harriet wasted no time in caressing and lubricating Sam’s penis and balls and even his ass. She slid a well oiled finger up his ass. Then she picked up a towel and wiped off his penis. “Slide down this way, honey,” Harriet said. She guided Sam as he slid to the bottom of the table, and he laid there with his legs hanging over the end of the table.

“The moment you feel even the slightest stirrings of cumming, you let me know, ok?” Then Harriet totally stunned Sam; she bent over and licked his cock. He grunted in surprise and she immediately deep throated him. She grabbed his cock with one hand and with her other hand, she slid a finger up his ass. Then she slid her mouth up and down a few times, followed by some tongues flicks against his glans that caused him to jerk and jump. She knew exactly how to maximize his pleasure. Harriet was an expert!

She worked very slowly, sucking and stroking his shaft, then she would flick her tongue or use her teeth to touch him in just the perfect way. She had him jumping like a marionette. A few minutes later Sam announced, “I’m getting close.”

Harriet immediately released his penis and she pressed her finger inside his ass. His impending ejaculation immediately disappeared. Boom! It was gone. It was amazing to Sam. “Did it stop?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said amazed.

Harriet rubbed his thigh and stroked her finger in and out of his ass a couple of times to bide her time. She was letting him rest a bit longer before she resumed her blow job. Then she took him in her mouth and again teased and pleased him like nothing he had ever encountered. She was a maestro. Harriet took her time and again brought Sam to the verge of an explosion. At his warning, she again pressed her finger inside his ass and the urge disappeared.

“How do you do that?” Sam asked.

“Trade secret and years of practice.” St Hermaphrodite was an excellent school. Harriet was not joking when she referred to it as a school for sexual studies.

On the third warning from Sam Harriet pulled her finger out of Sam’s hole, and she allowed him to cum in an explosion of sperm and juices. Harriet stayed on Sam’s cock and opened her throat to swallow almost all of his ejaculate. She stroked his cock and milked the last few drops from him, then walked up to his head and kissed him. She used her tongue to force open his lips and she expelled a large mouthful of viscous goo into Sam’s mouth. “I hope you enjoy it as much as I do,” she said.

Lisa had never pushed that much semen into his mouth and he had to swallow twice to get it all down. Sam still didn’t like the taste of it. Harriet took a towel and dried Sam’s penis, gently wiping then patting it dry. “How was your massage Sam?” Harriet asked. “Does Lisa give head that good?”

Sam was at a loss for words. He looked at Lisa expecting a reaction, but all she did was smile at him. “How was the massage?” Lisa asked.

“You’re very good,” Sam said to Harriet. “My legs feel much better.”

“Thank you,” Harriet replied. “And how was your blow job? Who gives the best fellatio; Lisa or me?” Harriet’s smirk said she already knew the answer.

Sam was not about to answer such a loaded question. “You were very good, Harriet. Thank you. Can I have my panties please?”

Harriet grabbed his panties from the couch and said, “I’ll help you.” She held the panties open allowing Sam to step into them. She pulled them up his smooth legs and over his penis. She gave his flaccid penis a gentle rub, then said “We should get you dressed. I’d like to show you a few things before we go to dinner.” Turning to Lisa, Harriet asked, “May I dress your courtesan?”

“Certainly, Samantha would love your help.”

“No I wouldn’t” he said to himself. “She is way too fast and pushy. This girl is trouble. How can Lisa let her do this?” But Sam had little say in the situation. Harriet took his hand and led him back into the bedroom. She helped him pull on his liner and corset, then she pulled the strings tight and tied them off. Harriet made Sam sit on the bed while she pulled his stockings up his legs and fastened them to his garters.

“You have really nice legs, Samantha. Very feminine I must say.” Then she handed Sam his padded girdle and said, “I’ll let you put these on. I presume that you still have to tuck.”

Sam merely nodded, then tried to turn away from Harriet while he reached between his legs to push his cock back. Harriet grabbed his shoulder and stopped him from turning. “I want to watch pretty boy.” And watch she did. “You are a beautiful boy, Samantha. Lisa knows how to pick a winner, that’s for sure.”

Harriet helped him with his skirt and blouse, then slipped on his heels and fastened the tiny buckles for him. “Voilá¡. A gorgeous girl again. Do you want some help touching up your makeup? I’m very good at it.”

“No thank you. I have to do something myself.”

“You don’t have to, but I’ll let you. Don’t take too much time darling,” and Harriet walked back to Lisa. The two of them whispered in French and giggled a lot while they waited for Sam.

The afternoon was a walking tour of the downtown area. The entire time one of the girls was holding Sam’s hand or arm. Harriet spent most of the time holding his hand and leading him and talking to him. Sometimes both girls would take one of Sam’s hands and lead him along between the two girls. They stopped in a couple of churches and museums only long enough to catch the high lights. They took turns snapping pictures of each other in front of landmarks. That is if you can say a digital camera “snaps”. They stopped at a sidewalk café for a coke and showing off. They looked good; brilliant in fact.

Harriet had changed into a blue summer dress with tiny white polka dots and thin shoulder straps. She had just the right amount of tasteful — and expensive — bling. Sam was in a full skirt with lots of pleats and a bit of lace around the hem. His was the longest skirt, falling a full inch below his knees. Lisa was in a summer dress with straps, an animal print and a hem three inches above the knees. And to top it all off — literally — they were all wearing large, floppy brimmed hats. Lisa’s brim was lacy and semi-transparent, Harriet had a black hat and Sam had a scarf wrapped around his. They looked phenomenal sitting at the café, legs crossed and sipping their drinks.

After their short respite, Harriet had them up and strolling again. They went through the park and took their pictures in front of statues. They caught a short ride in a horse drawn carriage. “I want Cinnamon,” Lisa whined. They walked around fountains and back through another series of churches. It was past six by the time Harriet finished her blitz-tour.

“How about we go back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. I have a three star restaurant picked out for you Samantha.”

Harriet insisted on helping Sam dress, even though he continuously tried to decline. “Let her help you Samantha, she’s very good at that,” Lisa would repeat. Sam washed his face and moisturized, then Harriet put him in front of the vanity and began to do his makeup. Sam sat helplessly as Harriet set out all of the bottles and tubes and compacts in a neat geometric pattern on the vanity. She seemed to be a little fussy with her neatness. Then she applied Sam’s foundation and began the process of making him into a beautiful “chick”. Harriet liked calling the three of them chicks.

When Harriet got to Sam’s lashes, she must have complimented him half a dozen times on the look of the fake lashes. “They make your eyes look so luxurious. I have to get these for myself. They are so sexy.” Harriet made up his eyes with dusky and smoky colors, lining his lashes to give his eyes an extra dark and heavy look. She wanted Sam to look “sultry and sexy”. Harriet finished his makeup with lip liner, lipstick and a very shiny gloss that made his lips look like they were drenched in color and moisture. “Awesome!” she pronounced him.

“Now let’s get you dressed.”

Sam again attempted to decline the “generous offer of help” but he was quickly shot down by Harriet and Lisa. “What is it with this girl?” he wondered. “Does she have some kind of fixation with me? And why does Lisa continuously go along with anything she wants? What am I, chopped liver?” Sam still didn’t get the big picture. He was not chopped liver, he was a courtesan, soon to be a concubine and for ever after, Hawthorne chattel. And it was time for him to learn that the Hawthorne girls shared their chattel.

Harriet removed Sam’s breast forms and took off his bra. She wanted to put him in a strapless dress, so that required a strapless bra. Harriet admired Sam’s hairless chest and caressed his soft skin and nipples. “Have you thought about growing your own breasts?” she asked. She didn’t wait for an answer but continued on, “Because you really should. Nothing, and I mean nothing makes you feel as feminine and confident as your own pair of girls. I mean I should know. Meet Eros and Aphrodite,” and she cupped her breasts in her hands. “I love these girls. I’ll have to show them to you later,” and she giggled.

“I have thought about it, but …”

“But nothing! Stop thinking about it and do something about it. My god you’re flat. How are you ever going to have any cleavage with this chest? You look like a teenage boy. What you want is to look like a teenage girl; a well endowed teenage girl. Not only will they give you that sexy cleavage you want, but imagine yourself in a bikini on Miss Eunice’s sailboat. And no more glue! Shit, that stuff is a mess. I know; I used to glue on silicone boobs too. But now … wow! Best thing I ever did was grow these melons. Quit wasting time. Do it!”

Sam just stood there and listened to her as she rambled on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he thought. “There’s a difference here little girl; you’re a girl and those “melons” grew all by themselves. You don’t have to worry about children someday. I’m different!”

Once again Sam was missing the finer (and larger) points to the situation. Harriet did indeed go through everything Sam was considering; and more. Harriet was a post operative transsexual. Harriet had started as Sam, but at a much younger age he transitioned farther than Sam would ever go. Sam would not to be taken that far. Lisa wanted to keep him as her boy; just a very special and soft boy.

Harriet wrapped a tight strapless bra around Sam’s flat chest then inserted his smaller silicone “girls”. She checked his corset and laces for him, unrolled some stockings up his smooth legs and patted his crotch, much to Sam’s chagrin.

Harriet took a dark blue dress off the hanger and held it low to the ground so Sam could step into it. She helped slide the dress up his body and into position, fidgeting just a bit to get it to sit just right on Sam’s bust line. Then she pulled up the rear zipper and again pushed everything into its proper position. The dress fit snugly on top and fell into a wide box pleat skirt with a hemline ending three inches above the knee. The empire pleated waist was tied in the back with a sash. The blue strapless dress looked excellent on the thin, under endowed girly-boy. Harriet sat him down and helped buckle up some strappy heels. They tried out some baubles and bangles and ended up putting a pendant around Sam’s neck and they stacked bracelets on his right wrist. They didn’t want to detract from the ring on his left hand.

Sam looked marvelous. With his long curly hair, and luscious and pouty red lips he looked darling. His corset gave him nice curves and his short hemline showed off his sexy legs. He was ready for his date with Harriet. Lisa would be the chaperone and voyeur; plus she would participate some.

The twin sisters were dressed just as lovely and all three were more than ready to go eat. Harriet and Lisa each took one of Sam’s arms and walked him out to the elevator. Sam was finding it awkward to walk with each girl holding one arm, but he had no choice. They collected Andre, then rode down to the lobby where they found a pair of taxis waiting for them.

At the restaurant, the three girls were seated in a corner away from the main crowd, which suited them just fine. They were able to chat and enjoy their meal away from the prying eyes of their adoring public. They were three beautiful girls and people do like to look and watch pretty girls. But after a while, even beautiful girls need to have a bit of privacy.

Harriet was the alpha girl at the table, so she ordered the bottle of French wine. They talked a little, sipped their wine and ordered appetizers. Sam was becoming accustomed to multi course meals with appetizers and desserts and wines and aperitifs. He was enjoying the life style and becoming comfortable with it.

Harriet began the conversation with a discussion of the day’s tour and a schedule for tomorrow’s. She quizzed Sam about his European tour so far and his perceptions of Paris and France and the people. Sam was very positive about all of his experiences so far. He was having the time of his life. Harriet asked if his new gender role played a part in his experiences and perceptions.

“Do you like pretending to be a girl?” Sam hemmed a bit and didn’t want to answer such a sensitive question head on. So Harriet changed her tactics, “Do you like going to beauty salons? Do you like being treated as a girl?”

That was an easier question to answer and Sam certainly enjoyed that part of his new life.

“What about dressing pretty and sexy in public? Does it bother you to be the center of attention?”

That was a tougher question and not black or white. But for the most part Sam wanted to look pretty and be attractive. If he was going to be a girl in public, he wanted to be good at it. But he wasn’t sure about the attention he garnered, especially from some seedy looking men.

Harriet spent a good amount of their meal talking with Samantha. It was obvious to Harriet that Sam liked Samantha. She changed the topic and asked him about school and political science majors and aspirations after school.

“What would you think about studying in Europe? I have been here three years and I love it. I’ve learned new languages and gone places that have been so amazing. I highly recommend it.”

“It might be interesting,” Sam conceded. “But I think there would be too many problems for me to stay here.”

“Like what?”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but I’m a boy dressing like a girl. It would be too dangerous I think. Sooner or later I would screw up and something would happen.”

“Easily handed with a private school or private tutor even. It would be a rare opportunity for you. I strongly recommend it. Study in Paris and grow breasts at the same time. What a magnificent time that would be,” Harriet said with a big smile. Sam looked dubious and Harriet added, “I’m not kidding, Samantha. If I were you I would do it in a heartbeat.” Then turning just a bit more serious Harriet said, “You have to do it Samantha.”

They continued their meal, finished their entrees and moved onto dessert. Turning to Lisa, Harriet asked, “Should we discuss this evening?”

“I think it is time,” Lisa said. Both Lisa and Harriet looked at Sam and his full stomach immediately flipped over. “Samantha, I’ve asked Harriet to join us tonight.”

“So what?” Sam thought. “What does that mean?” He said nothing, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

With a deep breath, Lisa went into her explanation. “I explained about our family and how we are … structured the other evening, right?” Sam nodded. “There are some other advantages to having our matriarchy, Samantha. One of them is that we can eliminate envy and petty jealousy. Everyone has the same amount of money — as much as we want. We don’t have to be jealous of what someone else has, because we can all get anything we want.

“And we are a very close family. We do lots of things together, including both work and play. Everyone can work at corporate headquarters if they want. And everyone that wants to work is given a real job with significant responsibilities. You feel like you are really a contributor and part of the whole family.

“We are all very close Samantha, and Harriet and I are even closer. We grew up together and did just about everything together. We shared everything in our lives.”

Lisa paused and suddenly Sam had an inkling of where this was going. He wanted to scream “No!” but it was too early for that. He wasn’t 100% sure of what Lisa was going to say. But he was getting worried.

“What really makes our family so close knit is that we share everything,” Lisa continued. “That includes our money, time, resources and … concubines. Samantha, we are allowed and encouraged to share our most loved possessions with our very best friends. It is a wonderful experience, opportunity and … requirement. This is one of Miss Grace’s most adamant wishes. She knows how important this is to all of us. There is nothing more important to her than her family sharing everything in our lives.”

Sam had the picture. He didn’t like it, but he now had it all laid out in front of him. He dropped his napkin on his plate, gripped the edge of the table and began shaking his head.

Lisa had to move fast and forcefully. “Samantha, I won’t have that attitude from you. I can’t,” she pleaded. “This is very important to both of us. Harriet has asked for the honor of accompanying us … you … to bed this evening. I think it is a wonderful opportunity and I have of course agreed. Please, I want you to agree also. I will be there the entire time.

“Remember your very first party? A woman there asked if you would like to have a 3 way. You were scandalized. But look how far you and I have come. Look how much you have grown. And look how you have been accepted into my family. My entire family has opened its arms to you. We want you to become a Hawthorne.

“And as a Hawthorne all of the perks and responsibilities come with it. You will have to accept that. I don’t want to have a three way sex romp tonight. Just you and me, and then Harriet and you; that is all. There is nothing more natural in the world than sharing love. Tonight we shall bond and share our love. Please say yes.”

Damn it! This wasn’t fair. She wasn’t ordering him to do something totally weird and bent, she was kindly asking him to accept it. “What the hell can I say?” he thought.

“Can we talk privately?” Sam asked.

“Sure,” and Lisa stood. They walked to the girl’s powder room and stepped inside. Lisa did a quick check to make sure they were alone. She motioned to a couch where they could both be seated.

Sam started, “You want me to have sex with your sister?”

“Yes I do. Please say yes.”

“But this isn’t right Lisa. This is beyond kinky. This is incest.”

“No it’s not. It is nothing of the kind. It is not even close. This is about sharing love. That’s all.”

“I would love to share my love with you. But I’m not in love with Harriet.”

“That’s not the way it is, Samantha. This is pure pleasure with no repercussions. You and Harriet enjoy one another and that is all. It brings you two closer together and makes us a tighter knit family. This is about family, Samantha.”

“Your family and your sister.”

“Our family, Samantha. I want you to be a member of this family. And this is part of it.”

Sam was exasperated. “But she is your sister.”

“Yes, yes, yes. I lover her and I love you. And I want the two of you to see why I love the other.”

“But Lisa I have pledged myself to you and you alone.”

“I know and that’s why I love you. And since you pledged yourself to me, I am asking you to do something for me. And at the same time it is something for you. You love sex and I have a feeling Harriet is very good at it.”

“Can I say no? Please?” Sam was pleading.

“No Samantha, you can not. I can’t make you do this, but if you don’t do this, things will have to change. We may not be able to stay together. Samantha, this is expected and mandatory in the family. We share. Please?”

Sam slumped deeper into the couch. He looked at Lisa and she stared back at him. He looked to the ceiling and noticed a crack. It zigzagged back and forth as it worked its way across the entire ceiling. Kind of like his life; zigzagging back and forth. He used to be a boy. Now he was a girly boy and his fiancée wanted him to grow breasts and become really girly. And now she wanted … no expected him to screw her sister. Did that make him a whore? Was Lisa a pimp? Was that her plan, to slowly turn him into a hooker?

“And after your sister, who is next? Do they pay for me to have sex with them? Is that what you are training me for?” Sam was hurting Lisa and he knew it. He was desperate to put an end to this evening.

Lisa was insulted and she was now upset. She jumped to her feet and stared at her fiancée. “You know better than that! You’re trying to hurt me because you can’t deal with the situation. I’m not going to let you hurt me. I love you too much for that.

“So here is the deal, and you can sit here as long as you want to think about it. You can either sleep with Harriet and me, or you can sleep with Andre. But after you sleep with Andre, you will be flying home … by yourself.

“I’ll be waiting for your answer.”

Lisa walked out of the room and returned to her sister. “So?” Harriet asked.

“I gave him an ultimatum.”

“Really? Wasn’t that a little dangerous?”

“We’re less than two weeks from turning him over to his mistress. He has to get on board quickly.”

“So what do you think he is going to do?” Harriet asked.

With total confidence in her voice Lisa said, “What I tell him to do.”

Sam slumped into the couch, “Oh fuck! Great show idiot. An ultimatum. You’ve earned yourself an ultimatum! Oh really fine show!” Sam stood and walked to the mirror. He absent mindedly reached into his purse and took out his lip gloss to freshen his lips. Standing there looking at his reflection, with lip gloss in hand the absurdity of his situation hit him.

He was now a girl. He was now a pretty looking girly-boy, acting like a real girl and he loved it. His lifelong dream was finally realized, even if he never knew it was his lifelong dream until this trip to Paris. And what were his choices now? Oh yeah, quit and go home to a life of mediocre finances and limited opportunities, or get his act together and have a life of unlimited money, power and opportunities, including the opportunity to become Samantha for the rest of his life.

And what was the problem? His concept of right and wrong, chivalry and being the boss. “Right, who is the boss now genius? You could have agreed and everything would have flowed along smoothly. But no, you pushed it to the point of an ultimatum. Now we really know who wears the pants around here.” Looking in the mirror he pointed at himself, “And it sure as hell isn’t you. You don’t even want to wear them. So be the girl and do what she tells you to do. Grow up and accept the situation. Jesus!

“Grow up and accept the situation. Lisa is in charge now. Samantha, you are the wife; the concubine. Can you live with that? Huh? Talk to me, can I live with that? Lot’s of girls would kill to be in your shoes. All they have to do is look pretty and their husband takes care of them. Right? And what do they have to do in return? Look pretty and provide sex. Girls have been doing this for ages. Now you’re a girl. So?” Stupid questions don’t always require an answer. Sam dropped his lip gloss back in his purse, fluffed an errant curl, put on a bright smile and marched back to the table.

As femininely as he had been taught, Sam took his seat. Looking at Harriet and then Lisa he said, “Lisa, I apologize for my character flaws and I promise to work very hard on keeping them under control from now. I would be pleased and honored to join you and Miss Harriet for an evening of mutual pleasure. I will do whatever you ask of me and I will endeavor to do it to the very best of my abilities. Please accept my offer and my apology.”

Harriet’s eyes were bigger than Lisa’s as they listened to Sam. They glanced at each other and smiled. “Samantha, apology accepted and offer accepted. You are a remarkable boy, and you make a beautiful girl. Shall we move along then?”

Harriet paid their bill then took Sam’s hand as she led them outside to a taxi. She snuggled against Sam on the drive back to the hotel. She slid her hand up Sam’s leg and under his dress, massaging his leg and feeling the soft texture of his stocking. She looked into his eyes and smiled as her hand drifted to his crotch and she rubbed against Sam’s tucked cock. Because he was so well tucked and protected with panties and his hip enhancing foundation neither could feel much, but Sam’s face turned red at the intrusion upon his personal space by Harriet.

Harriet paid the taxi driver and then took Sam’s hand again, as she led the three of them to the elevator. Sam could tell that there was an extra wiggle and jiggle to Harriet’s hips and breasts as she led her evening paramour across the hotel lobby. Her extra large grin added to her obvious elation and anticipation.

Once they were in the penthouse, Harriet wrapped her arm around Sam’s waist and immediately guided her girly-boy to the bedroom. Lisa followed behind, and while Harriet led her pretty sex kitten to the bed, Lisa took a seat at the vanity. Harriet wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist and pulled him into her. Sam took his cue and wrapped his arms around Harriet’s neck. The two French kissed for several moments.

Both had already smeared their lipstick when Harriet broke the embrace. Turning to Lisa she asked, “May I undress your courtesan Samantha, please?”

Lisa slid her hands over her lap and with a big smile answered, “Of course you may.”

Harriet immediately went to work. She dropped to her knees and unbuckled Sam’s heels, then slipped them off his stocking clad feet. She slid her hands up one leg at a time, caressing and rubbing his leg as she reached for his garters and released each stocking. She wadded the stockings in her hand and offered them to Lisa. Lisa walked over to accept the stockings, then began decorating a chair. She laid the stockings over the arm of the chair.

Harriet again reached up under Sam’s skirt and stuck her fingers in the elasticized waist of Sam’s hip padding. As she began to pull the foundation down Sam’s smooth and sexy legs, they trapped his panties and pulled them off also. Harriet held them up and grinned, “Two for one.” She handed the twisted lingerie to Lisa who pulled them apart and laid them on the seat of the chair.

Lifting the skirt of Sam’s dress, Harriet showed off Sam’s crumpled penis. The pink appendage was still showing the affects of having been tucked for several hours between his thighs. Showing Sam’s penis to Lisa, Harriet said, “What a pretty little sight. He looks so effeminate, don’t you think?”

“He looks sexy and hot!” Lisa responded.

Sam appreciated Lisa’s comment much more than Harriet’s. Sam was finding this weird and a bit difficult to accept. He always knew that Lisa was a little kinky, but he never thought she would watch and approve of Sam having sex with her sister. This was the stuff of pornographic books and movies, not real life. While Sam was able to appreciate the fantasy of this scenario, his actual involvement left him with ambivalence.

Harriet was having no ambivalence though. She rose up on her knees, wrapped her arms around Sam’s hips and took his penis in her mouth. She began sucking and quickly had Sam responding with a cute male erection. There was nothing effeminate about his penis now. And that is what Harriet wanted to see. She gave him one last flick with her tongue, then stood to continue her erotic stripping of the lady Samantha.

Lisa was rubbing her thighs together as she watched Harriet remove Sam’s dress. Harriet handed it to Lisa, and she immediately hung it up. Harriet gave Sam’s pecker an appreciative rub before she turned the boy around and unlaced his corset. She reached around to the front of Sam and unhooked the busks of the corset and handed the pretty white item to Lisa. Then Harriet peeled the liner down Sam’s body and he stepped out of it. Sam’s stomach had a few red lines where his skin had been trapped by the tight fitting garment. He had a little curve to his waistline, giving him just a hint of feminine curves. Lisa smiled and rubbed her thighs together again.

Sam was left with nothing but his brassier gracing his epicene body. Harriet stepped over to Lisa and spoke in French as they looked at Sam. Sam squirmed just a bit under their inspection. Harriet stepped over to Sam and said, “Samantha, Lisa and I want you to promise us something.”

Sam was nervous as he warily asked, “What?”

“We both would like to see you grow your own breasts. You look pretty as an enhanced and effeminate boy, but you would not only look so much better, but you would feel much prettier with your own breasts. So what do you say? Is it something that you would do for us … and you?”

Gulp. Lisa had been badgering him for several days … no months … about having his own set of perky girls. He thought back to his metanoia at the restaurant and knew he wanted to make the commitment. “What about children, Lisa?”

“We will have children, don’t worry about that.”

“But how?”

“Cryogenic freezing of your sperm. Everything has been handled. You are free to make your decision. What do you think Samantha?”

“I would love to have real breasts. Nothing would be sweeter.”

Lisa closed her eyes and smiled. Harriet reached around Sam and unfastened his bra, letting his breast forms fall out of their softly lined cups. Their weight pulled down on Sam’s skin and he could feel their tug and presence. Harriet jiggled them a little, then handed Sam’s red underwire bra to Lisa, who hung it over the back of the chair. Harriet again embraced Sam and French kissed him, smearing their lipstick some more. She rubbed herself against Sam’s erection and made sure that he remained hard. Sam wanted to rub against Harriet also, but he knew he would have to wait.

Harriet stepped back, dropped her arms and announced, “My turn Samantha. Strip me like an onion.” They both giggled. Harriet was giggling because she was controlling a pretty and feminine boy. Samantha was giggling because a great weight had been removed from his chest. And a new weight would be added. He had actually made the decision, and now he was relieved and anxious.

Lisa watched as her naked girly-boy dropped to his knees and began removing her sister’s clothes. It was all coming together so nicely.

Samantha finished with Harriet’s last piece of clothing; her bra. He handed it to Lisa and she draped the lacy lavender contraption across the back of the chair. Lisa stepped forward as the other two finished kissing, “My turn sweet Samantha. Make it sweet,” she requested with her own sweet smile. Sam happily went to work on his own inamorata and girly-girl. Sweet, beautiful, buxom, curvy, sexy Lisa. His key to a wonderful future.

Sam unhooked Lisa’s bra, leaving her as naked as the other two. Sam laid Lisa’s ivory colored brassiere over the back of the chair, then realized what he was looking at; 3 brassieres. Three pretty, colorful, lacy and sexy brassiers were hanging over the back of that chair. A pretty lavender colored bra for Harriet. A sexy ivory colored feminine piece of apparel for Lisa. And a hot red, sexy bra for the ex-boy, Samantha. “One for me,” Sam thought. A shiver ran through his body and his penis began dripping pre-cum. “Hot damn!”

“Everyone in the bathroom,” Lisa commanded. “I want all three of us to clean off our makeup and then get ready for sex.”

“No lipstick tonight?” Sam asked.

“But of course silly filly. You have to have ruby red lips when you go down on me. But we have to look proper also. So let’s clean off all this smeared lipstick first. Harriet grabbed Sam by the penis and said, “Come with me you pretty filly.”

Lisa opened a jar of make up remover and the three of them washed each other’s face, giggling and laughing and enjoying their sexy enthusiasm. Jokes and puns were exchanged and physical contact was encouraged. Neither of the sisters could keep her hands off Sam; especially his cock and ass. And Sam couldn’t keep his hands off Lisa. He wanted to grab her and wrap himself in her beauty and fragrance and pheromones. Harriet tried to horn in on Sam’s attention, but she really did nothing for him in terms of sexual arousal. Lisa was the girl that Sam wanted.

After an inordinate amount of time for a simple cleaning, they smeared Dr. Ratchet’s special moisturizer over each other’s face. Then Harriet painted Sam’s pouty lips a rich red color. Sam painted Lisa’s lips a pretty berry color, and then he applied a dark maroon to Harriet’s collagen enhanced lips. And finally, Lisa dusted them with a light mist of perfume. Sam was now properly decorated and feminized, and ready for the girl’s advances. All they needed were sexy negligees.

They helped one another into a pink babydoll, a maroon negligee and a tiny yellow camisole for Harriet. Now they were ready for sex. Their preparations had been slow, physical, sensual, and ritualistic. But now they were not only physically hyped, but they looked delicious. Eye candy for the boudoir is what they were.

Lisa quickly crawled to the center of their king sized bed, propped up several pillows against the headboard and patted the sheet between her thighs. “Samantha, please come pamper your fiancé. Kiss me where it counts and take me to the moon tonight.”

“My pleasure,” he answered and dove onto the bed, landing right between Lisa’s thighs. He took a deep breath, slid his red tipped nails under Lisa’s sweet and succulent ass, and looked up for his instructions.

Harriet lay down next to the couple, but she was upside down in the bed. Harriet wanted a first hand look at what Sam was about to do. “Slow and tender sweet filly. We have a long night ahead of us, let’s use all of it,” Lisa said. Sam kissed his lover on her labia, and slowly slid his tongue into her.

Harriet quickly lost patience watching; she wanted some of the action. She moved behind Sam and sat on his thighs. She began kneading and massaging Sam’s callipygian ass as she tried to distract him from his duties to Lisa. Sam was centered on his responsibilities, but Harriet was making things difficult for the boy-courtesan.

Harriet tired of manually massaging Sam’s ass. She slid down his legs until her face was directly centered over Sam’s ass. She reached under his hips and grabbed his cock. It was hard and Harriet had no trouble holding him. Sam lost his concentration and pushed down a little hard on Lisa’s clitoris. “Samantha, soft I said!”

“I’m being distracted,” he complained.

“Harriet, wait your turn! It’s coming.”

“I think it might be,” she said as she continued to stroke Sam.

“Stop it!” Lisa demanded. “Let me have him first.”

“Sure,” Harriet said. She waited until Sam once again began softly kissing Lisa’s cunt, then she started licking Sam’s ass. She let go of his cock and used both of her hands to spread Sam’s crack and lick his hole.

Sam ignored the distraction as best he could. Harriet tried to put him into a rhythm with her licking, and she almost coerced him into changing his, but Sam fought through it. Harriet moved on to her next stunt; she bit him on the glutinous maximus. Sam jumped and screamed.

Lisa yelled, “Get off him now. Now! Damn it.”

Harriet had a big grin on her face and rolled off Sam. She rubbed the bite and said, “I didn’t draw any blood.”

“You are not allowed to hurt him!” Lisa said loudly. “I mean it! Don’t hurt him!”

“Yes sister,” Harriet replied without really meaning it. She slid up next to Lisa and propped some pillows against the head board so that she could watch Sam perform his duty.

“Go Sam, go! Whoo hoo! Lick that …”

Slap! Lisa slapped her sister on the arm. “Harriet, enough with jokes and frivolity. This is sex. Its serious stuff damn it!”

“Spoken just like mom.”

Lisa froze and glared at Harriet. “That’s not funny.”

Finally Harriet realized that she had stepped over the boundary and she seemed contrite. “You’re right. I apologize. I apologize to you and Samantha. I’m sorry. I got carried away with the idea of having the both of you here with me. It’s been a long time since I had family come visit. I got over-giddy. Please continue, I’ll be a good girl.” Harriet was being honest. She put on brave front, but she had been sent to Switzerland a couple of years ago — three to be exact — to convert him into the ultimate and consummate girl. He had begun his transformation at a very early age, and had sexual reassignment surgery when he was twelve. But that only handled the physical aspects of his transformation. His “disadvantage” required additional work for the emotional and mental aspects of becoming a happy and well adjusted post operative girl. This school was excellent for Harriet’s final transformation, but it did leave him alone. He missed his family.

Lisa relaxed and sunk back into her pillows. Sam took his cue and without further distractions, took Lisa to two more wonderful orgasms. When Lisa finally released her lover, Harriet jumped up and said, “Whoopee, my turn. Samantha up here,” and she patted the bed where she wanted him.

Sam plopped down on his back and spread his legs slightly. He said nothing as he waited for Harriet to make the first move. Lisa had trained him well. Sam was submissive and obedient. Harriet placed a finger in Sam’s mouth and slid it in and out as Sam sucked on her finger. Harriet pulled her finger out Sam’s mouth and touched him on the nose. Then she slid down the bed and placed herself between Sam’s legs, where she slid her wet finger up his ass. She grabbed his cock with her free hand, and before she took him in her mouth she said, “Tell me when you are about to cum. Give me as much warning as you can.”

“Yes ma’am.” Sam was about to get a blow job. He could live with that. In fact it was the best scenario, because he wouldn’t have to have real sex with Lisa’s sister. But of course he was wrong … again.

Harriet began teasing and pleasuring Sam as exquisitely as she had done earlier in the day. “My god, she is good!” Sam thought. Harriet took her time, using a couple of breaks to bring Sam to the brink. “I’m cumming,” Sam warned.

Harriet immediately released her grip on Sam’s cock, spit him out and pressed her finger inside his ass. Almost immediately his impending ejaculation faded away. “How DO you do that?” he asked.

“If I told you I’d have to marry you,” she said. Then with a grin she added, “I suspect you will learn the maneuver sooner than later. Sam had no idea what the meant. He just laid back and waited for Harriet’s next move.

Harriet removed her finger from Sam’s glory hole and got up on all fours. She opened a tube of KY jelly and smeared it on Sam’s penis. Neither said a word as she performed her work. Harriet maneuvered around and straddled Sam, but was facing the foot of the bed. She lowered her pussy and took Sam’s penis inside her. She squatted all the way down and put all of her weight on Sam.

“I don’t have a condom,” Sam warned.

“Don’t worry Samantha, were both girls. Plus, I’m not fertile. I won’t get pregnant, I promise.” She squirmed around for a few seconds, lubing up her vagina and Sam’s penis. After she was satisfied, she straightened her legs behind her and laid down tits first on Sam’s legs. Sam’s cock was trapped inside Harriet and bent over to an unholy degree. Sam had been in this position before, but it still felt … wonderful.

“You have pretty toes, Samantha. Did you get a pedicure recently?”

Sam giggled and admitted he had. Harriet wrapped one arm under Sam’s legs and the other she slid back up and under his butt. Then she slid her finger inside Sam’s ass again.
Sam squirmed again, but he knew what Harriet was doing. And so did Harriet. She began squeezing her muscles, sliding Sam in and out squirming and around and delivering tons of pleasure to Sam’s one erogenous zone. She was driving the boy crazy. “Tell me when you’re cumming,” she instructed the effeminate boy.

Harriet was excellent at bringing him close and then backing off, pinching off his tubes inside his ass and stopping him from ejaculating. She did that to Sam three times before she decided to go all the way.

“I’m going to cum,” Sam warned. But instead of slowing down, Harriet sped up, and she pressed down hard inside his ass. Sam kept getting closer and closer and then he came, but he couldn’t. Harriet had him pinched tight and he couldn’t ejaculate, but the pressure built to a painful level almost immediately. “Harriet,” he screamed, and she released him. He pumped with all of his strength into Harriet’s fake vagina. His hips lunged and pushed and pumped as he tried to push his body and essence into Harriet’s faux cunt.

Harriet helped him as much as she could, continuing to hump her boy and squeeze her muscles as she stroked and milked his penis. Damn she was good. And Sam appreciated her finesse and work ethic as she brought him to an amazing orgasm.

“My god!” Sam exhaled as his sweaty body collapsed back into his bed. “Whew!” he said as he caught his breath.

Lisa snuggled over and kissed him lightly on his exquisite lips. “Well?” she asked.

That was nice,” Sam admitted. “Very nice.”

“Good,” Lisa said and while Harriet was still mounted on her filly, Lisa French kissed her boy.

CHAPTER 45

The next morning found the three of them cuddling in the center of the bed. Sam was the meat in the middle of the sandwich. After some stretching and scratching, Harriet rolled on top of Sam and gave him a soft kiss. “Good morning pretty boy.” Then Harriet crawled on top of her sister and gave her a kiss. “It’s so nice to see you again. I see family so seldom that I get very lonely. Thanks for coming.”

Harriet sat up and straightened her yellow babydoll and said, “Are you ready for some sight seeing?” The other two mumbled a yes. “Excellent. May I have the honor of bathing with Samantha please?”

“Of course,” Lisa answered. “What’s mine is yours.”

Sam wasn’t too thrilled with Lisa’s sentiment. He would rather bathe with his fiancée. But he was quickly accepting his new situation. Lisa and her family had carefully shepherded him through two months of discovery and training, and their work was paying dividends. They had prepared Sam to become a willing participant in his own feminization and transformation into the beautiful and obedient Samantha. Sam had so enjoyed his transition experiences that he had no reason to offer any resistance, other than preconceived prejudices built over 18 years of masculine occupation of his body. Now that he was enjoying the feminine occupation of his body, things looked different; and better. Preconceived ideas were changing.

Harriet quickly stripped off her gown and then helped Sam remove his. Sam had a morning erection and Harriet used it as a convenient handhold to lead the epicene Sam to the bath. While Sam used the toilet — he sat of course — Harriet drew their bath and added bubble bath along with Sam’s emollients and skin softeners. Harriet entered the oversized tub first and then had Sam sit in front of her. She pressed her breasts against his back as she slid her hands over his wet and sleek skin.

“Your skin is really soft, Samantha. You’ve done a nice job of taking care of your self.”

“Thank you, Harriet,” he replied.

With an apologetic tone Harriet said, “Samantha, I’m sorry that I have to say this to you, but you have to call me Miss Harriet. It’s another one of those family etiquette things. Really, I wish you could call me just Harriet, but …” she dropped the rest.

“That’s ok, Miss Harriet. I had trouble adding the Miss to Maggie’s name, but I’ve come to understand some of this stuff.”

“You’re very nice and understanding Samantha. I’m sorry for my attitude last night. That really wasn’t me.”

Samantha leaned back into Harriet and laid his head against her breast and shoulder. “I enjoyed our sex together. You’re really very good.”

“That’s what they teach us at school. There are some benefits to going there.”

Sam was surprised. He thought Harriet had been joking yesterday. “Really? They actually teach you how to have sex?”

“It is a finishing school for … girls. They teach you how to do everything.”

“Maybe I should go there,” Sam joked.

“Trust me, you don’t want to go to my school. You’re going to get a much better deal with your schooling.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Sam was very curious about Harriet’s comment.

“I’ll explain later today. Right now, hand me that soap and I’m going to wash you. And then I would like to wash and set your hair for you. Would that be ok?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sam answered dutifully.

Harriet washed her future concubine in-law, and wrapped a big towel around Sam’s hair as they left the tub. Sam wrapped another towel around his chest just the way Lisa had taught him; to preserve his feminine modesty. He finished his morning routines, then took his seat in front of the vanity while Harriet combed out his hair and rolled him up on some large rollers. Afterwards she allowed Sam to apply his own makeup while she dressed herself.

When Sam was finished with his makeup Harriet handed him a black leather skirt. “How about wearing this today?” she asked. “And no panties.”

“Miss Harriet, how can I do that?” he asked with a scandalized voice.

Harriet grinned and asked, “When was the last time you went out with out having to tuck your penis? Wouldn’t you like a free day?”

“But I’ll have a bulge in front. And no panties? I’m afraid that would feel just a little too …”

“Free? Airy? Sexy?” Harriet asked with her same grin.

“I was thinking scandalous.”

“Don’t worry about the bulge. It’s a heavy leather and it’s tight fitting. I don’t think you will show through. And besides, most of our day is going to be driving through the Alps. Go ahead Samantha. Enjoy one crazy day.”

Sam smiled. “If you insist Miss Harriet.”

“I insist. But don’t forget your hose. You can use the garters on your corset. You haven’t lived until you’ve worn garters with no panties. It’s very sexy Samantha. Go for it.”

When Sam was fully dressed, Harriet placed a large silk scarf over Sam’s curlers and tied it under his chin. “A pair of sunglasses and you will look perfect. Let’s go eat something.”

Harriet took Sam’s hand and led him to the kitchen where a large cart was waiting. Harriet had ordered two of everything, from toast to Belgian waffles. They chatted and nibbled their breakfast while Lisa finished catching up with the two of them.

After breakfast they collected purses and sunglasses. Harriet and Lisa also put on fashionable scarves and the three of them collected Andre. They wiggled, jiggled and click-clacked their way across the lobby, collecting their usual share of attention. The concierge quickly caught up with them and led them to their automobiles; two BMW convertibles.

“Sweet,” Sam complimented Harriet on her choice of autos. The two cars were identical, red two-seaters.

“Samantha you will ride with me and Lisa will start with Andre. We can trade later.” Harriet pulled some papers from her purse and handed them to Andre. “Here is our route and stops. In case we get separated you will know where to find us.”

Andre helped Lisa into the passenger side of his car, and the concierge helped Sam. He turned his back to the low seat and dropped into the soft leather, then swung his heels into the car. His leather skirt slid up as he sat, leaving plenty of pretty leg exposed to view. Harriet gave him a nice, appreciative smile. He placed his purse behind his seat and strapped in. “Ready for some sight seeing, Samantha?”

Sam smiled and said, “Absolutely.”

Harriet revved the motor, popped the clutch and left rubber and smoke as she flew out of the hotel parking lot and down the street. There was no way Andre was going to keep up with Harriet. She fish tailed around a corner, ran a yellow light and had them on a four lane highway in mere seconds.

Sam laughed and screamed at the same time, holding his scarf to keep it from blowing away. Harriet raised the windows to block some of the wind and noise. As they flew down the highway, Harriet would occasionally glance at Sam’s legs and smile at him. When she decided that she had opened enough of a lead on Andre and Lisa, Harriet slowed down a little so they could talk.

“Samantha, I need to say something. It’s about yesterday and last night. I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

“There is nothing to apologize for Miss Harriet.”

“Yes there is. I really meant it when I said that wasn’t like me. I acted that way because I was told to. I was told to be aggressive and to dominate you. I really had no choice.”

Sam was confused. “Who told you?”

“Your future mother-in-law.”

“Really? Why?”

“Samantha, I’m not supposed to tell you this. You will find it all out in a matter of time, but I feel I owe you something.” Sam said nothing and continued to look at Harriet. “It was part of your training and orientation to the family. I was supposed to expose you to being manipulated by another family member. I was supposed to control and dominate you.”

“Why?”

“Because we have certain rules and conventions. And one of the main rules is that all family members must share their boy if asked by another family member. If one of the other girls wants you for a weekend tryst, you have to oblige that person. And whatever she wants to do with you, you have to obey and cooperate to your fullest ability.”

“But why? Would Lisa agree to this? I don’t think so.”

“Yes Lisa will abide by this rule. She has no choice. It is mandatory. Miss Grace insists.”

“But why? What is the purpose? Do other wives go along with this?” Sam was surprised that he used the wife word, but he was coming around to his new situation. Even though it felt strange to consider himself a wife, that is what he was going to be for the rest of his life. And he truly was looking forward to it — strange as that might seem.

“Everyone agrees and cooperates. You have no choice either. As to why she made the rule, I am not 100 percent certain. It is one of grandmother’s oldest rules. But my guess is that it goes back to when she was younger and felt dominated by her father and husband. I think she felt helpless and maybe this is her way of gaining a sense of revenge against men. Although the whole concept is weird, because I don’t think grandmother has ever taken advantage of the rule.”

“That’s … not fair. Forcing someone … me to have sex with someone else just isn’t right! It’s slavery!” Sam was starting to hyperventilate.

“Please Samantha, take a deep breath and try and relax. This is really important, and we know it is very controversial. That is why you weren’t going to be told yet. Normally you are exposed to another two or three situations to acclimate you before you are told the full truth. But I wanted to explain myself and my actions yesterday. I feel bad about how I acted. Please Samantha, that wasn’t me and I’m sorry.”

“And I will have to do this too?”

“Yes.”

“How … how does it work? Do they have to ask me or …”

“No Samantha. Someone will approach Lisa and ask for your time. If you are available and something else isn’t planned, she has to hand you over. Sometimes it will be for a night, sometimes as much as a week.”

“A week?”

“Up to a week. You might go to the Riviera or Tahiti. It will be a romantic destination I’m sure.

“Who can ask for me?”

“Any Hawthorne family member, but not wives and spouses. You will be treated as a full member of the Hawthorne family for everything else, but the same right to ask for sexual favors doesn’t transfer to you. You can’t ask for someone else. And you can’t turn down a legitimate request.”

“Anyone … can … Miss Mona can even ask?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god! No! I can’t do that. She detests me. She hates me. And she is so old. Oh god no!”

“Samantha, please calm down for a minute. Please?” Harriet begged. Sam was getting emotional and reacting much stronger than Harriet had anticipated. Harriet was beginning to realize why protocols and training regimens were set up and followed as they were. She was opening a can of worms that she hadn’t considered, and she was losing control of the situation. She had been told that Sam could be emotional, and now she was finding out first hand.

“I’m sorry I brought this up Samantha. Really, I just wanted to let you know why I was being an ass. Please Samantha, listen to me, please. First off Miss Mona would never ask for you. She just wouldn’t ask for her own son-in-law. That would be frowned upon by the rest of the family. But second, she doesn’t hate you. Oh no. From her letters I can tell that she really, really likes you. She is just playing her role. She is the bad cop who helps push you in the direction that they want. Lisa is the good cop. It’s that simple. Miss Mona adores you, trust me.”

“So this all a game? Turning me into a girl and using me for sex was just a game?”

“Hardly. I’m screwing up big time here Samantha. I’m digging myself a big hole and making everything look so negative to you. Scheiss!” Harriet swore in German. “I’m really sorry that I opened my mouth. Lisa is going to kill me. Mom will disown me. Please you can’t discuss this with Lisa.”

Sam made no effort to agree to that demand… or wish.

Without realizing it Harriet was going slower and slower and she suddenly caught a view of Andre and Lisa in her rear view mirror. She quickly sped up so they couldn’t see the animated conversation she was having. “Samantha, please calm down a little and listen to me. Can we start over? Can you ignore what I’ve said for just a minute? Please, let me start over?”

Harriet was asking but Sam wasn’t answering.

“Lisa is in love with you Samantha. There is no doubt at all about that. She loves you so much that … that I don’t know how to tell you any stronger. She does. And everyone else in the family adores you also. Please believe me. Please.

“But you have to understand that certain rules have been made and we can’t break them. We would be disowned if we did. More than disowned, we would be ostracized if we didn’t go along with Miss Grace’s wishes. Her wishes are a little strange, I grant you that. But please understand, these rules come from Miss Grace, not Lisa. In these matters Lisa has to do what she is told. She doesn’t like them any more than you.

“I know for a fact that she tried to get you exempted from some of these rules, but Miss Grace insisted.” That was a bald faced lie, but Harriet was now desperate. She was driving fast and talking faster. But in spite of her little white lie, her point was true. Lisa didn’t like the sharing rule anymore than Sam did.

“And look at it this way, you get a tremendous opportunity in return. You will be rich. You will be as powerful as you want. You can have just about any job in the company that you want. You can do what you want and you can buy anything, or go anywhere. There are some nice concessions in return.

“And you are receiving the best concession already.”

“What?”

“Two things actually. First you are receiving the love form a girl who is infatuated with you. Lisa truly, truly loves you. I may be a bit prejudiced, but I think she is a great catch for anyone. And second, you are getting something that you always wanted but couldn’t admit. You know what that is, right?”

And finally Harriet hit the magic buttons. Sam remembered what Susan at the salon had said about catching a Hawthorne. Lisa was the best one. And yes, Sam did want to be a girl. Well not exactly; he wanted to dress and live like a girl, but remain a boy underneath. He wanted to remain a pre-op transsexual. And that is what Lisa wanted for him also.

Harriet realized that she had found the right button and that Sam was slowing down. She decided to move at a slower pace, although her foot was pushing just as heavily on the accelerator. She allowed Sam to think for a few minutes then asked, “Are you ok?”

“I’m not sure,” Sam answered. “This is all too weird. Sex with anyone that demands it. I feel like a prostitute.”

“No, not with anyone that demands it. There are only a few people who can ask. And this isn’t casual sex for money or something so shallow. This is for bonding and sharing.”

“Funny way to bond,” Sam snorted. “If anything I would think it would do the opposite. Isn’t there something about coveting thy neighbor’s wife?”

“You’re right about the coveting part. But strange as it may seem, our family is very close and we almost never have any blow ups. I don’t know if this is the reason, but I guess it works.”

Sam thought for a few more minutes then asked, “Can Maggie ask for me?”

“No. Maggie is a spouse, and she isn’t a Hawthorne by birth. She is not allowed to ask for another, just as you cannot ask for someone else.”

“Thank god. She is really a guy. I think I would barf if I had to have sex with a guy.”

For some strange reason Harriet really wanted to tell Sam the truth about herself. But common sense took over at the last minute. Harriet kept her mouth shut. Sam stewed for another five minutes then asked, “What else will I have to do?”

“That’s the only unusual thing Samantha.”

“Really? I’m being turned into a girl to marry a girl and become her wife. And all I have to do is have sex with aunts and uncles?”

“You’re certainly making it sound melodramatic, Samantha. But you are going to play the role of a wife. At least inside the home. Outside the house you will be expected to be a strong and independent woman. That means that inside the house you run it. You raise the children, maintain the house and employ the help. You can cook if you want, Maggie loves to cook. Or you can play the socialite and join women’s clubs.”

“Play the house wife? I don’t know how to do that. And I wouldn’t have the first clue as to how to boss maids and butlers around. And trying to raise kids would be a disaster. I’m going to be lost.”

“No you aren’t. You will get training for all of that.”

“How? Where?”

Once again Harriet had talked herself into a corner. She had never had to train a future spouse and she didn’t know when to shut her mouth. Harriet was digging a deep hole. “Samantha, I’m probably sticking my foot in my mouth again, so please don’t shoot the messenger. But Lisa wants you to go to school in Paris. The reason is because we have a tutor there that can teach you everything you need to know. That’s part of the reason Lisa is trying to convince you to study in Europe. The woman is the best teacher in the world.”

Sam fell silent again. “Was everything set up in advance for me? Was my manipulation just another game for you rich people?”

“Samantha, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. It’s not like that. In fact it’s just the opposite. You are the beneficiary of prior experience and practice. Lisa has resources that can truly help you adjust and cope to the new you. You wanted to become Samantha, but you just admitted as to how little you know and how unprepared you are for your new lifestyle. We have people trained to help you; really talented people! It’s really a great asset for you.”

Sam thought about that for a minute. While he was thinking, Harriet was slowing down. “Samantha, we’re coming to our first stop. Would you please, please do me a favor? Don’t say anything to Lisa just yet. Think about what we said. We can talk some more when we get back on the road. Samantha, I screwed up talking so much, but I was trying to apologize for my attitude yesterday. Please give me one more chance to speak with you before you say anything. Please?”

A reluctant “Ok.” But it wasn’t as bad as Harriet imagined. Sam was thinking about some of the things Harriet had said, and how they impacted his new reality. Some of it did make sense, but some of it really bothered him; especially the sex slave part. But he did want to become Samantha, he was resigned to becoming the wife, and now he was thinking about what roles a wife actually played. He hadn’t thought that far in advance before now.

Harriet pulled into a turn out and parked. The spot overlooked a sharp drop off and a magnificent view of the snow covered Alps in the distance. They sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting for Andre and Lisa to arrive. When both cars were parked, Harriet used her eyes to silently plead with Sam, then took the lead and invited everyone out for a look.

“Are we going to walk?” Lisa asked. “Because you know Samantha is wearing heels … again.”

“No problem. There is a short paved walk to a magnificent overlook. Follow me.”

Andre stayed with the cars as the three girls walked 100 meters down a well maintained path. The overlook was on top of a steep cliff. Down below they could see train tracks and a series of tunnels then bridges along the opposite side of the valley. It was a magnificent view and they all took a few pictures.

“What do you think?” Lisa asked Samantha.

Samantha almost gave Harriet a heart attack when he asked, “So you want me to study in Paris.” Harriet’s face turned white.

Lisa innocently answered, “I think it would be an awesome opportunity Samantha.”

“What would I study?”

“French. And Poli Sci. and some other things.”

Sam took a slow approach to his target, “How would I study Poli Sci? Everyone here is French.”

“Miss Mona would direct your studies. She would send books and recommend internet reading. It would be a very practical study approach I presume. Mom knows the real world of politics.”

“Her world of politics, that is for sure. And what else? What other things.”

Lisa blinked and decided to go for the truth. “Well you are going to have a different role in life than you would have had before. You’re going to be a beautiful woman. You will need additional training in how to handle your new responsibilities.”

“Like what?” Sam was asking direct questions and Harriet was looking for cover.

“Woman things. Running a house and directing the household help. You might want to know more about entertaining and the proper etiquette of setting a dining table and arranging a seating pattern.” Sam continued to look at Lisa. “Social things like interacting with guests or business acquaintances… and fashion, but you are already good at that,” she said with a big smile.

But Sam wasn’t accepting the smile. “What else?”

“I don’t know sweet heart. Girly things. Raising children for instance.” She mentioned the last subject with a quiet voice.

“I’ll raise our children?”

Lisa was getting defensive, “Well I will have a political career to worry about.”

“I thought I was going to be your right hand girl? Your girl Friday.”

“You will, Samantha.”

“After I raise the kids though. Right?”

Lisa was getting nervous and Harriet was having kittens as she contemplated jumping off the cliff. “You will have help of course. A nanny will be available.”

“And my training to be your campaign manager, how will that happen?”

“Well no one can train you any better than Miss Mona.”

“Ah yes. I suppose so. She will train me in what to think and do I suppose.”

Lisa just blinked, but Harriet grinned. Inspiration had struck and she wanted to move on it as fast as possible. She immediately jumped into the fray. “We should get going. I have a really precious beer house lined up for our next stop. They serve tea and coffee in the morning, but if we don’t hurry our only choice will be pilsner or helles.”

“Are we changing cars?” Lisa asked.

“One more leg please. Then we change.”

They walked back up to the parking area and jumped into the same cars. Again Harriet took off like a shot and placed a big gap between the cars. She turned to Sam and said, “Samantha, I was listening to your conversation with Lisa.”

“I noticed,” Sam retorted. “You looked a little nervous.”

Harriet laughed. It was a free and enjoyable laugh. “You are a vamp Samantha. And you aren’t nearly as innocent as you play. As dense as I sometimes can be, even I saw something in your questions.”

“Like what?”

“Again, please bear with me as I lay out a scenario. Even though you were certainly thinking fast back there, I think you may have missed something. You were thinking of betraying Miss Mona, weren’t you?”

“No,” Sam answered flatly.

“Yeah,” Harriet countered. “But let me suggest something that I don’t think you have considered. And this is why you need to stay in Paris and get some tutoring from a real expert. Let’s turn the tables around. Let’s say you are a real girl, born and raised as a genetic girl. And Lisa is a real boy. Big penis, money, looks and everything else. Acceptable?”

Sam smiled a bit. “Ok, I follow the scenario. But Lisa would look horrible with a big penis. Can she have big tits instead?” Sam was smiling.

“Samantha, Hawthorne girls don’t have tits. They have breasts. Let’s keep this civil shall we?” Harriet used a sharp tone with him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Now, you’ve been raised as a girl for your entire life. You know the societal precept that that the male is strong, the dominant force in the marriage, and the girl is the sweet, docile submissive. You’ve been raised your entire life under these conditions, right? You know how to act and how to respond to all situations. You raise the children, you put the food on the table, you clean the house and you give your husband a warm welcome when he returns home at the end of a long tough day at the office. Savvy?”

“I’m with you.”

“Not much different form your current situation, right? But there is one big difference. That girl has been trained from day one to fill her role. And she hasn’t been trained to be a total wimp. She has been trained to manipulate her hubby and get what she wants. She withholds sex when necessary, she complains about the kids and her tough life to get what she wants, and she throws in a little flirting or seduction to help.

“When she wants new furniture, she knows how to get them out of her rich husband. A new car, or new dress, she knows how to cozy up, how to flirt or how to bitch about the kids. She knows how to get what she wants. Right?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t know how to do that, do you? You don’t know how to manipulate Lisa, what buttons to push or when to go ballistic versus helpless. If you knew how to do that, if you were really good at manipulating your spouse Lisa, there is no limit to what you could accomplish.

“Samantha, you are a very smart girl, you know where this could lead don’t you?”

Sam broke into a huge grin. “I think I follow you.”

“How far, Samantha? Show me how smart you are.”

“All the way to the White House.”

“That a girl. You manipulate Lisa right, you handle mom correctly, and you pull in enough favors and chits from the political world and the White House would practically belong to you. You use your campaign manager position to set up yourself as the power behind the throne, and then you could pass what you want — not necessarily what mom wants. You could call the shots, and there would be nothing mom or Lisa or anyone else could do about it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam whispered.

“Well he might be able to do something about it,” and both of the girls broke out into an uproarious laugh. “And Samantha, I’ll help. I’ll have control of all European business and I can help us. But …” and Harriet turned very serious.

“Yes?”

“We don’t hurt the family. Mom expects us to reach the Rockefellers and Rothschilds in wealth. Ten trillion should be enough, we can survive on that. But don’t hurt us. Get what you want, make the world better but please preserve us. Remember, we all love you and we gave you this opportunity in the first place.”

“You’re worth ten trillion dollars?” Sam gasped.

“I never said that.” Harriet answered bluntly.

“And all I have to do is have sex with some uptight Republicans. I can do that.”

Harriet again used her serious voice, “We’re not all uptight and we’re not all Republicans. Please don’t stereotype us or denigrate us. I could use some nasty words to describe your new lifestyle too. Please don’t get cocky or mean. Be better than that.”

Sam stared at Harriet as she drove along. After a few miles Sam said, “You are a remarkable girl Harriet. I wish I was half the girl you are.”

Harriet threw caution to the wind and said, “You are Samantha. You are as much of a girl as I am.”

“Huh?”

“Come now, I’m sure that Miss Mona or Miss Grace has mentioned that I was born with an unfortunate handicap. I know they have.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Samantha was trying to remember back to conversations she had heard.

“Do you want to know what my disadvantage is?”

“What?”

“I have the same disadvantage as you. We were both born with a penis.”

Sam jerked around to look closely at Harriet and stared at her. His eyes immediately went to Harriet’s lap, even though he knew there was nothing there. Sam’s eyes were as huge as his earring hoops as he contemplated what had happened between the two of them. He never said another word until their next stop. Harriet parked the car and they sat waiting for Lisa. Harriet smiled demurely and asked, “Was I that bad?”

Sam was looking straight ahead, but he turned to Harriet. “No. No you weren’t. I would have never known,” he said quietly.

“Does it bother you?” Harriet asked.

Sam nodded slightly and replied, “Yeah, it does.”

“Why? I am as much a girl as any other girl. The only difference is internal plumbing — I don’t have it. But everything that you or someone else can see is just as good as the real thing. Don’t you think so?”

Sam was quiet.

“Samantha, this is ok. You want to be just like a girl also. You aren’t going to have the big operation like I did, but everything else about us is almost identical. How can you reject me and my status, when you love being the same as me? We like the same things Samantha: bras and panties, makeup, curly hair, sexy dresses, stiletto heels and most of all — girls.”

“But you had sex with a boy last night — me to be exact.”

“I disagree. I’ve never known the boy named Sam. The only person that I have ever known is Samantha. And she is a beautiful girl as far as I’m concerned. She is sexy, hot and has a little something extra that makes her super special. And I suspect that someday soon when she has real breasts and some additional experience, she will be a goddess.”

The other car was pulling into the parking area and Sam had one last question. “As a … girl, which sex do you prefer?”

“Girls all the way. I prefer being a girl and I prefer being with girls. I will marry a girl one day.” Harriet opened her car door and said, “Can we talk about this later? Please? I don’t want to screw up your relationship with Lisa.”

Sam smiled, “Sure. No problem.”

Lisa arrived and they all walked around the outside of the small tavern, taking in the scenery and a few pictures. Sam was standoffish around Harriet. Harriet didn’t seem to mind, but Lisa noticed. “Is everything ok between you and Harriet?” she asked.

“Sure.” It was a terse reply, but Sam used a positive tone to reinforce his message. Lisa dropped the subject.

The three girls finished their walk around and moved inside for coffee and croissants. They sat in a corner booth and Lisa and Sam slid to the back. “I understand you don’t have any panties on,” Lisa whispered. Sam merely smiled. “Spread your legs,” Lisa said. Sam did as he was told and Lisa placed her hand on his knee. She slowly slid her hand up Sam’s silk covered leg as they sipped their coffee and chatted.

Sam had to shift his weight and allow his leather dress to slide up his thigh and Lisa made her way to his unprotected crotch. Without being too obvious, she was just able to reach his cock. As soon as she touched the tip of his penis, Sam’s penis reached out for Lisa’s touch. Sam had an erection. Lisa began caressing his glans, sending shivers up and down his legs. There were no other patrons in the tavern, but Harriet, and probably the waitress, knew what was happening.

“You two are embarrassing,” Harriet snickered. “Why don’t you go in the ladies room and hump your brains out. I’ll keep watch.”

Lisa and Sam both snickered. Neither made a move so Sam said, “It’s your call Miss Lisa.”

“No, we better not. Besides, I just wanted to see a bulge in your skirt when we walk out. Come on, let’s go. Harriet can catch the bill.”

Sam wasn’t too happy about being left horny and having to exhibit his hidden asset. But he was used to Lisa’s kinky side, and besides, he would never see this waitress again. Sam slid to the edge of the booth and stood up, glancing down to see what he looked like. Harriet had been correct earlier, in that there was hardly a noticeable bulge. Sam strutted to the door and went to the car.

When Harriet exited the tavern, Lisa and Sam were standing by the car and French kissing. Harriet walked by on the way to Andre’s car and said, “Don’t mess your lipstick ladies.”

The two kissers jumped in their car and immediately checked their lipstick. As much as Sam wanted to drive, Lisa wouldn’t allow it. She would take care of her dependent femme boy. Sam was Lisa’s pretty trophy and all he needed to do was relax, sit back and look pretty. Sam slid on his sunglasses and watched the scenery go by as Lisa did the hard work. Lisa thought he looked sexy in his shades and scarf. With his hair rolled up in curlers, Lisa thought he looked even more girlish than normal. She found him extremely sexy and her pussy was wet with desire.

Lisa followed Harriet as they drove through the Alps, stopping occasionally for a picture opportunity. At one o’clock they stopped for a light lunch and then traded cars again. “May I drive?” Sam asked.

“Sorry Samantha, but I’m not allowed to let you. If I did, Lisa would report me,” Harriet replied.

“Report you to whom?” Sam asked.

“Everyone; Miss Grace, Miss Mona and Miss Maggie. I would be chastised for letting you do anything other than sit there like a pretty girl. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“What?”

“You’re being forced to reverse roles with Lisa. The stereotype of the husband taking care of his helpless wife is being taught and practiced with you all the time. You are supposed to submit to your more dominant partner, Lisa. Come now, you must have noticed this.”

“Well … I guess I have noticed this.”

“Of course dear Samantha. Who pays for everything? Who makes the decisions on what you wear and eat and where you go? And who takes the top position when you are having sexual intercourse. I noticed that you have to fellate your dominating Lisa before you’re allowed to have sex for yourself.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. And that is why you are not allowed to drive.” Sam remained quiet for several miles so Harriet started up the conversation again. “Does that bother you?”

“Yes. It does a little.”

“Don’t let it worry you. In fact, enjoy it. Lull everyone into complacency. They will think you have totally succumbed to your female role, and they won’t worry about you having any ambition. It will make things easier for you later.”

Sam still remained silent.

“Samantha, did you understand what I said?”

“Oh yes. I was just thinking about how to use it to my advantage.”

“The easiest way is to enjoy it. Trust me, I’ve been on my own for three years now and I wouldn’t mind a little help in decision making. I would love to have someone take me out to dinner and then seduce me. Its fun to let loose and be taken by someone once in a while. It makes you feel even more feminine and pretty and desirable. It’s wonderful for the ego.

“And then later, you can always regain your independence. You’ll learn how. I know you will. Right now, if I were in your heels, I would enjoy life. It doesn’t get any easier than this.”

“It’s what’s coming that worries me.”

“Don’t let it worry you. I’ve told you what is coming. And I bet you have already been thinking about how to use it to your advantage. Haven’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“That a girl; never admit anything. Play coy, be demure and sexy, but keep your eyes wide open.”

Sam was silent another couple of miles. Harriet again tried to get Samantha to open up. “Samantha, are you still with me? Are you angry or upset?”

Sam flashed Harriet a big smile. “Oh no, I’m not upset. I’m sorry I wasn’t talking. I was thinking. I was thinking about what you have told me today. You have been very open and honest with me, and I really appreciate it. You’re the only person that has been totally honest with me and I really, really appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Then is it ok that I’m not exactly what … who … you thought I was before?”

“Sure. Everything you’ve said has been right. Everything about me, and what I am and what I want … you’ve been 100 percent spot on. It has taken some soul searching to make sure that I am comfortable with this. But I am. This is a dream come true, something that I’ve always wanted but kept buried so deep that I couldn’t even admit it to myself.

“It takes a while to get used to this though. I mean it is overwhelming.”

“What do you mean?”

“Miss Harriet, you were born into this life. It’s all you have ever known. You don’t know what it is like for the other 99.9% of us. You have no control over anything. My mom was so poor we didn’t even know if we were going to have dinner on some days. And once or twice we didn’t.

“But then something like this comes along and it is just too good to believe. Fairy tales aren’t real, and this really is a fairy tale. You have to look for ulterior motives and you always wonder when you will wake up. Do you know what I asked Lisa when we arrived in Paris?”

“No idea?”

“I asked her if she was feminizing me to be sold into white slavery. To an Arab, I said.”

“Really?” Harriet asked. She was baffled at such thinking.

“Things like this just don’t happen out of the blue. And I could see some of Lisa’s manipulation and her … your entire family, trying to feminize me. Even if it might be something you would like, you immediately become suspicious. You have to, because you just can’t believe that you are lucky enough for something like this to drop into your lap and be totally benign. You just know there have to be hidden motives. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I’m beginning to understand.”

“So as much as everything looks so marvelous, it’s just too difficult to believe. You’re always worrying, you’re always looking over your back to see what the catch is. And then you told me stuff today, and suddenly it all begins making sense. And even though you’re totally shocked, it’s comforting to finally know. And it isn’t all that bad. A lot of it is wonderful and you finally think that dreams do come true.

“And even if there is some stuff that I might not be all that happy about, you show me how to live with it; how to survive and flourish. Here I am thinking that I am going to be totally dominated and bossed around for the rest of my life, and you tell me how to run the world … or at least the President of the Untied States.

“It changes everything Miss Harriet. You have totally blown me away. I don’t think I have ever been happier. I mean, I was thrilled to death when Lisa proposed, but I still had some of those nagging doubts in the back of my mind. But you confirmed them, showed them to me and then told me how to handle everything. You have set me free, and now I can be totally happy. Nothing held back anymore. You have no idea what a wonderful feeling this is. Thank you Miss Harriet.”

Harriet was overwhelmed. All she could say was a tiny, “You’re welcome.” Harriet had to digest what she had just heard. Both girls turned their gaze on the road ahead, while their thoughts turned inward. The breeze blew their scarves, the scenery flew past and time stopped. Neither came to her senses until they were actually climbing out of the car at their afternoon stop.

Harriet was in the lead car with Andre and led Lisa and Sam back into town. They pulled up to the front entrance and parked. Harriet and Lisa both held Sam’s hand as they took him back to their penthouse suite. “I’ve got a really nice restaurant picked out tonight; very upscale. So we have to make you extra pretty tonight Samantha.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard. I’m already the prettiest girl here,” he said with tongue in cheek. That remark brought numerous groans and rebuttals from the twin sisters. Harriet was supposed to continue her role of dominatrix, so she took control of Sam. She went through Sam’s clothes and picked out a red halter dress and jewelry for the evening. Then she sat him down and applied his makeup. She went glam on the make up, because after their dinner they were going clubbing.

After dressing Sam and before getting herself dressed, Harriet unrolled Sam’s hair and brushed him out. She gave him the same style he had worn for his first party. When Harriet had first seen his picture from that night, she had fallen in love with his style. “This is such a glamorous hair style for you, “she told Sam. “The boys won’t be able to keep their hands off you tonight,” she joked.

“I’ll help them,” Sam retorted. “I don’t care to have boys pawing me.”

Harriet leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I hope you will make one exception tonight.” Harriet grinned but Sam turned pink; a combination of blushing and turning white. He had forgotten that he might be sleeping with a post-op transsexual tonight. He liked Harriet, but he still had certain hang ups. His previous night’s bed games, and one day’s discussion wasn’t going to change him that fast. He would try he told himself, but old prejudices don’t die immediately.

Harriet finished Sam’s pretty hairstyle, then personally put on his new earrings. “Lisa bought you some nice earrings here, Samantha. Maybe I can borrow them some day?”

“Of course Miss Harriet. We’re all family here, right?”

The girls finished dressing then moved to their restaurant. It was a short walk. The hotel had two towers and the opposite tower had a top rated restaurant and a very upscale disco. They rode the elevator down to the first floor lobby, walked 100 meters to the other tower, and rode the elevator up to their evening entertainment.

The restaurant was French with a three star rating. The girls strolled in and were immediately greeted by the maá®tre d. They were early for their reservation so Harriet took them to the bar. It was an expansive lounge with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. They found a grouping of 3 comfortable chairs facing the southwest and they claimed them. They sat, ordered soft drinks and talked about their day.

“I’ll download the pictures when we get back to Paris,” Sam said. “I’ve been sending some to my foster parents; except they don’t see any pictures of me.”

“You should send them one or two of yourself,” Harriet suggested. “Tell them you met a really great girl while you were here and you slept with her.” They all laughed. “Seriously Harriet said, send them your picture so they can see how beautiful you are. You don’t have to mention anything else. Let them know how successful your trip has been.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

“And don’t forget to send me pictures with all of us in them. I want a picture of you two together to put on my dresser.”

“What if I don’t have one,” he asked mischievously.

“Let’s get one right now. Do you have your camera?” Sam had his purse sitting on his lap. He pulled out his camera and handed it to Harriet. Harriet waved to Sam and said, “Samantha, go sit on Lisa’s lap.” Sam grinned and joined Lisa in her chair. “Wrap your arms around her, yeah that’s right,” and Harriet snapped off a couple of pictures. “Now kiss. I want a picture of you two kissing. Eyes closed,” and she snapped off another three pictures.

Harriet reviewed the pictures and said, “Now there is one you can send home!” They all laughed.

Sam looked at the pictures and said, “I like this one of us kissing. Can I make a big print and take it to school with me?”

“School?” Lisa asked.

“Well I am going to school in Paris, aren’t I?”

Lisa was surprised. She didn’t realize that Sam had made up his mind. “Of course Samantha. If that’s what you want.”

“Oui, I do. You are going to be on the other side of the pond, so I will need a picture of you to remind me what you look like. Without a picture I might forget about you and go out looking for another sexy girl friend. Those Paris girls are really cute and sexy.”

“Go ahead and try,” Lisa dared her. “There is nobody as pretty and rich as me.”

Harriet jumped into the fray by standing and twirling around. “Yes there is. Me!” and she did another pirouette before dropping back into her chair.

“You hussy!” Lisa laughed. “I give you a sip of champagne and you want the entire bottle!”

“Do you blame me? Shall we let Samantha choose?”

“Not a chance. Samantha belongs to me and I belong to her. Period, end of discussion. Go find your own pretty boy.”

Sam smiled and wondered if Harriet was in the tiniest bit serious about wanting him.

“I’d rather find a pretty girl.”

Lisa got serious and said, “This isn’t the right place for such a discussion.” She was warning Harriet not to let Sam know her true sex. If the conversation kept going in this direction, she was afraid Sam might put two and two together. But it was already too late; Harriet had already told Sam everything.

Sam ignored Lisa’s admonition and volunteered, “I know where you can find lot’s of pretty and interested girls, Miss Harriet.”

“Really? Where?”

“The salon back home. There are lot’s of beautiful girls there and I know they would love to date you.”

Lisa’s face registered pure shock and Harriet was stunned. She looked at Sam first, then Lisa and then she began laughing. Lisa was too shocked to say anything. She had no idea what to say because she still didn’t know how much Sam had been told by Harriet.

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked innocently.

Harriet decided to spill the beans. “Samantha dear, those girls are Miss Maggie’s harem”

“I know,” he said. “They told me all about it.”

“Harriet, its time for dinner,” Lisa said as she tried to end the conversation. She did not like where it was going. And how the hell did he know? What did he know? And who the hell had told him? Lisa was quickly becoming pissed and worried.

“Lisa, Samantha knows all about me. We had a very open conversation today. There is nothing to hide.”

“But …”

Harriet continued on, not letting Lisa interrupt her. “Samantha, what do you mean you know? What do you know?”

“About Maggie’s harem? One of the girls explained it to me. She told me how Miss Maggie finds poor girls and gives them a place to live and a job and helps them out of their poverty. It sounds really wonderful of Miss Maggie. And I know all of the girls adore her.”

“Exactly!” Lisa declared. “Now, its time for dinner,” and she stood to leave.

Harriet remained sitting and just looked at Lisa. “Its time she knew.”

“No!”

“She’s family, Lisa. Last night made her family. She has a right to know.”

“Not now. Let’s go eat.”

Harriet ignored Lisa, much to Lisa’s chagrin. This was too much information too soon for Sam. It was going to cause problems and Lisa knew it. But Harriet plowed on despite Lisa’s objections.

“Samantha, those girls are the same as you and me.”

“What …?” Sam’s mind was spinning around. Did Harriet mean what he thought she meant? Impossible. Those girls were too pretty to be … “Are you saying …?”

“Yes I am saying,” Harriet replied. Lisa slumped in her chair defeated. She was sure that this was going to lead to a disaster.

“No! They’re too beautiful.”

“They are no more beautiful than you, Samantha. Right?”

“But … this is just too hard to believe. Why?”

“Simply put, Miss Maggie likes beautiful boys. She collects them and brings them to Washington. Half the girls in the first floor shops and most of the girls on the executive wing are really feminine boys.”

Sam’s mouth was open but nothing came out.

“Maggie has a couple of interesting hobbies, Samantha. She collects antique cars, she likes to tinker with new electronic toys, and she collects pretty boys. She flies all over the world to collect them. She brings them home and sets them up in one of the dorms, helps them with English and gives them a job. In addition, she helps them with hormones and transitioning … if they want to.”

“Why?”

“It’s her hobby. She loves to be around pretty girls and pretty boys. She is also an amateur photographer and she has them model for her.”

“In the nude?” Sam asked.

Harriet finally realized that she had once again gone too far. She wanted to be open and honest with Samantha, she thought Samantha deserved that, but she hadn’t realized how far the conversation would go. Harriet was definitely not ready to train her own girl. And to make matters worse, Lisa was glaring and shooting daggers at her.

“I doubt it. She is only an amateur.” Now it was time to dig out from under her little mess. “But why? It is a great honor for the girls. Most of them are coming from third world countries and abject poverty. About the only future they have to look forward to is … prostitution and drugs. Being effeminate they aren’t going to survive in those third world macho pits. So Maggie is literally saving their lives.

“In return, they are the most grateful and loyal friends you could possibly have. As they get older and more mature they put the sex thing behind them and they turn out to be very stable, intelligent and talented in other areas. Most of the executive secretaries are from Maggie’s harem. In our business we need loyal and competent employees. These girls are the best in both categories.”

Sam was thinking back to his contacts in the salon. “They are friendly and nice … at least the girls that I have dealt with at the salon. And they are good at what they do.” Sam paused and thought a bit more. “But what about their escort work? Isn’t that a little …?”

“A little what?”

“I don’t know. Inappropriate?”

“Not really.” Lisa decided that if she didn’t jump in Harriet might blow everything. “First off Samantha, they’re teens and early twenties and just like us they are full of hormones. They are interested in sex. Let’s be honest about that.

“But beyond that, they make money by escorting. We don’t pay them enough to make them rich. They meet people. They are in a small and controlled environment at work, so this is a great way to meet people and perhaps even a spouse. It has happened. And what they do after their escort appointment is their own business. We don’t condone extra-curricular affairs, but neither do we spy on them or try to control their entire lives.”

“Sure, I understand,” Sam said. And by the tone of his voice they knew he meant what he said. “But what about the men they date. Those senators and congressman, are they all … homosexuals.”

Harriet grinned and Lisa tried to answer the question as delicately as she could. “Not necessarily. Some of them might just want a pretty face for the evening. Some might be interested in a girl with a little something extra, but they could still be hetero. And I’m sure that one or two are gay. But you can’t judge everyone by who they date or meet.”

“Of course not,” Sam said with a grin.

Harriet had the final word. “I see you grinning and I know what you’re thinking Samantha. Sure, some of them are hypocrites. But the other side has their hypocrites also. And like Lisa said, you shouldn’t make blanket opinions about people because of who they date. After all, look at us.

“Now then, I think we should go to dinner.”

Lisa let Sam lead the way, while she hung behind and had a heated discussion in French with Harriet. Up ahead Samantha grinned. She had just learned some new information. It was fun to learn things. Especially if they didn’t impact you too much. Kind of like family gossip he thought.

The maitre‘d led them to their table by the window and Sam immediately excused himself. “I’m going to go pee. You two can finish your conversation in private. You never know how much French I’ve picked up these last two weeks,” he said with a grin. Sam was barely out of audio range and Lisa demanded, “Ok, tell me again how much you told him.”

Sam strolled to the little girl’s room and took his time peeing and fixing his makeup. He loved playing with his makeup and applying fresh lipstick. It was so feminine and sexy. Sam loved being sexy.

Another older woman arrived and asked him something in French. “Je ne comprend pas,” he said.

“You are very pretty,” she said in English.

“Thank you,” Sam answered.

“You have some beautiful earrings, my dear. May I look at them a little closer?”

Sam instantly became suspicious. “I am sorry, but I’m expected back by my boyfriend.”

“Your boy friend? I only saw two other girls sitting with you.”

“Then you didn’t look very closely,” he tried to say defiantly. But he didn’t sound very convincing. He tried to walk out but she blocked his escape. She suddenly produced a knife and said, “Please give me the earrings. And I want the ring also.”

Sam forgot that he was a supposed to be a demure girl. “No fucking way,” he said in his deepest most manly voice. But Sam no longer had a manly voice. He sounded like a girl trying to imitate a man. The other woman picked up on it immediately.

She flourished the knife and repeated, “Give me the diamonds. I don’t want to have to cut you.”

“I have a body guard out there waiting for me.”

“Sure honey. Every girl does. Now take off the diamonds.”

“My girl friend will be here any minute.”

“That’s why you better get moving. I don’t want to have to cut them off your pretty ears. And the ring.”

“There is no fucking way I will ever give you my ring.”

She took two steps forward and said, “Then I will have to cut it off.”

And that is when Sam became utterly stupid. He screamed, “Andre!” at the top of his lungs.

“You stupid bitch!” the woman cursed. She quickly began moving at Sam and he began backing up. He ran into a stall and tried to push the door closed. The woman was just as strong and she was forcing it open. Sam wanted to lock it, even though it wouldn’t keep the woman out. But he was trying to buy time.

“Andre!” he shrilly yelled.

“I’m going to cut off your ears,” the woman cursed again. “I have help standing guard. No one is coming to your rescue little girl. Give me the diamonds before I kill you!”

Suddenly the door to the restroom went flying open, slamming against the wall and rebounding back shut. And just as fast, it flew open again and a thin man went flying across the room, sliding head first across the tiled floor. In stepped a huge man and in broken English he yelled, “Samantha! Where are you?”

Samantha recognized Andre’s voice and screamed “Here! I’m in here.”

The woman turned to Andre and brandished the knife. Andre showed no fear and in a crouched stance began closing on the woman. She knew she was over matched and began backing away in the direction of the unconscious man. As she backed away Andre reached the stall and pulled Sam out. Sam ran behind Andre and while he occupied the woman Sam turned for the door. Running for the open door he ran right into Lisa, knocking them both over. The rolled onto the floor and ended up at the feet of Harriet, who quickly pulled them both to their feet.

“Come on,” Harriet said as she tried to push them towards the exit.

“Wait, I can’t leave. My purse is in there,” Sam screamed.

“Andre!” Harriet yelled.

“Oui?”

“Bring the purse. Let’s go.”

Andre turned to the counter and saw Sam’s purse. The woman remained standing over the man, holding the knife like a cross trying to fend off a vampire. The body guard slowly backed away and picked up the purse, then backed out of the rest room.

As soon as he was out of the room Harriet yelled in French, “Andre, this way. We’re over here.”

Andre turned and quickly walked up to the girls. “Go,” he said in French as he pushed them ahead of him. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was after them. Harriet led them out of the restaurant and towards the elevators. She pushed the maá®tre d out of her way and headed towards the exit. The maá®tre d tried to restrain them and Andre used one hand to shove him to the floor and sent him sprawling across the tile.

The girls reached the elevator and stood waiting for it to arrive. Andre stood between them and shocked onlookers. “Are you ok?” Lisa asked.

“I think so,” Sam said. They continued waiting, all of them facing the same direction as Andre. The elevator bell rang and the doors began opening. Since no one was approaching the girls, Andre quickly stepped in front of the doors, waiting to see if anyone was inside. Thankfully it was empty. He pushed the girls inside, and Harriet hit the lobby button. Andre stood in front of the doors guarding them. But none of the onlookers dared to even step towards them.

As soon as the doors were closed Lisa grabbed Sam and hugged him. Sam returned the gesture and grabbed her tightly in his arms. “What happened?”

“She pulled a knife on me and tried to steal my diamonds. She wanted my earrings and my ring.”

“What did you do?”

“I told her “no fucking way” and then I screamed.”

“Oh my god!” Lisa commiserated.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Harriet said. Sam glared at her and then Harriet smiled.

A smile started spreading across Sam’s face and he started to laugh. “That was stupid wasn’t it?” And as Harriet nodded, Sam’s smile disappeared, his eyes rolled upwards and he fell to the floor of the elevator. He slipped out of Lisa’s arms and there was nothing she could do to hold him. He was a dead weight.

The elevator reached the lobby and a bell rang. Andre picked up Sam and Harriet held the door for him. They marched across the lobby and over to the other set of elevators as people stared at them. Harriet called the penthouse elevator. She slipped in her key and the doors closed.

“Is she okay?” Lisa asked Andre.

“I don’t know yet. She may have fainted, but I have to wait and see.” He spoke in French and both girls understood. On the top floor, Harriet again led them to their door and quickly unlocked it. Andre took Sam to the couch and laid him on it. He looked him over, and gingerly rolled him on his stomach. Andre still thought he was dealing with a pretty girl and was careful not to invade her privacy or dignity. He was looking for blood but found none. He rolled Sam on his back and again looked him over. “I think she fainted. But to be sure, you should call a doctor.”

Harriet grabbed the phone and called down to the front desk. “I want a doctor up here immediately.” She answered a couple of questions and then said, “If he isn’t here in two minutes I will send a body guard to your desk and …” In frustration she slammed the receiver down on the cradle.

Lisa didn’t know what else to do, so she pulled out her cell phone and called her mom. It was 1:30 PM in Washington D. C. and while Lisa was hysterical, Mona was as cool as ice. “Call a doctor.”

“Harriet tried,” Lisa sobbed.

“Put her on the phone.”

Lisa handed the phone to Harriet. “Harriet,” Mona began in her firm “kick-ass” voice, “get back on the phone and tell them that the American consulate has been informed, and they will be sending their highest ranking official immediately. Tell them if there isn’t a doctor there in two minutes, they might end up with an international incident on their hands. Give me back to Lisa.”

“It’s me,” Lisa said.

“Does she appear to be injured?”

“No. The body guard checked her and found no blood.”

“Put him on.”

“Oui?”

“This is Mona Hawthorne. Is the girl injured?” Mona asked in French.

“I do not think so. I think she has fainted.” Then he explained what had happened.

“Thank you Andre, you did good work,” Mona praised. “Give me back to Lisa.”

“Mom, there still isn’t a doctor here!”

“I’ve got a better picture of what is going on. Wait for the doctor. Let’s not blow this into an international incident. Keep her warm and comfortable and give me back to Harriet.”

“Yeah mom?”

“Go to the front desk and ask for the manager. Tell him to get a doctor there and to keep it quiet. Give him ten thousand Swiss francs. And also tell him if he can’t work with you that you will get the ambassador personally involved.”

“How do I convince him that I can do that?”

“Show him your passport and make sure he knows that you have full diplomatic immunity. He should know this already since you had to show your passport to check in. And under no circumstances are you to allow Lisa or Samantha to be interviewed. That is a must. Understand?”

Samantha was still unconscious, or sleeping on the couch. She handed the phone back to Lisa and said, do not identify yourself or Samantha to anyone. Lisa understood. Lisa took the phone and began talking with Mona. Harriet turned to Andre and said, this is more serious than you think. No one is to enter except a doctor. No police. And no is to talk with either of them. Miss Mona would appreciate it.

Andre had been in the employ of the Hawthornes for several years. He knew Miss Mona and he too understood.

“Oui Mademoiselle Harriet.”

Then Harriet went forth to kick some ass. The elevator arrived with a doctor and two policeman. Harriet took charge, although her knees were knocking. Doctor, she is in there,” and pointed at the correct door. She turned to the officers and began the biggest bluff of her life. She held her black passport in front of her and said, “Officers we need to talk with the manager of this hotel.”

“Mademoiselle, we need to see the victim.”

Harriet swallowed, “She is in no condition to talk with anyone right now. That is why the doctor has been called.”

“I still need to see her,” the officer in charge demanded.

Harriet was getting nervous. She waved the passport in the officer’s face and pushed it at him. “We have diplomatic immunity! Look at it! You cannot enter without my approval and I do … not … approve!” The superior officer inspected the passport, then told his junior to guard the door. “No one else in or out. Check with me first,” and he pointed at his radio. “You, come with me.”

Harriet stood her ground for just a moment and said, “I have a name and I would appreciate it if you would use it with respect.” It was a huge bluff by Harriet, but she didn’t blink. The officer was holding a diplomatic passport and at that point in time he didn’t know for sure who Harriet was or how much clout she had.

The officer took the easy way out. He opened the passport and looked at the name. “Yes Miss Hawthorne. Please come with me.”

They reached the front desk and the police officer approached the clerk. “The manager, now.” She pointed to his door.

The officer knocked on the door, then walked in without hesitation. “Sir, you have a situation?”

Harriet immediately spoke up. “Sir my name is Harriet Hawthorne and I am staying in the penthouse. There has been an incident and a doctor has been called. Officer, would you please show this man my passport to confirm my identity?” What she really wanted to do was confirm her political status. The officer showed him the passport then immediately took it back.

“Yes Miss Hawthorne, we have sent a doctor to the room.”

“Yes, I know and I thank you for your due diligence.” Due diligence was code for an action to prevent potential legal problems. Harriet was young, but she had been schooled properly. Miss Mona paid almost a quarter of a million Swiss francs for that education, and tonight it was paying off. And Harriet’s perfect French was helping.

But to make an even bigger impact, she switched to high German. “Sir, this was the result of a rather disagreeable incident in your establishment. The woman currently under your doctor’s care was a victim of that incident.” To help matters along, Harriet paused and looked at the police officer who looked to the manager. Harriet was trying to put additional pressure on the manager. She thought it was working, but she moved forward with her monologue.

“I am sure that she will be well attended to now. The woman involved is from a rather well connected family in Washington.” Harriet paused to let that sink in. Then she moved on to the bribe. “I am sure that there have been considerable expenses in bringing the doctor to her rescue. I would like to reimburse you for your time and inconvenience.”

The manager blinked and the officer became angry. “Are you trying to bribe your way out of something American?”

“No sir!” Harriet instinctively knew that she should not be talking with the police officer. She turned to the manager to try and recruit him to her cause. “Sir,” she began in her excellent German, “The incident in the restaurant was most unpleasant, was it not? I am confident that the police can handle the perpetrators with ease. But they will probably need a statement from the victim. Right now the young lady is unable to answer those questions. But later she will be feeling better. Now I know that she would rather keep her profile here as low as possible, but if necessary she will speak with the police.

“Alas, at that point her testimony will become official. And at that time your incident will no longer remain local or quiet. It will go all the way back to Washington. And I am worried that it will even become public. I fear that no amount of compensation will be able to offset your … legal and publicity problems.”

Point made.

The manager looked at the officer and said, “Thank you officer, I can handle this situation now.”

“No you cannot,” the officer retorted.

“Good sir, then send me your superior at once. Quickly, call him! I wish to discuss the situation with him. Go! Call him!”

The officer sneered at the manger, but he backed down. He walked out the door and slammed it behind him. The manager motioned towards a chair and said, “Now then Miss Hawthorne, what can I do for you?”

Harriet switched back to French. “I’m sorry but I can’t stay long,” as she declined his invitation to sit. She opened her purse and removed her wallet. She took out her credit card and handed it to the manager. “I will collect that in the morning when I check out. Can you handle my departure expenses? I’m sure they can’t be more than say … ten thousand francs”

“Oui mademoiselle. I understand perfectly.”

She looked to the floor then sheepishly looked to the manager, “May I ask one favor good sir?’

“Mademoiselle?”

“No names and no publicity, please? There are … other considerations to be taken into account here. Don’t you agree?”

“Certainly.”

“Thank you. I will collect that when I check out.” Harriet turned towards the door, paused and turned back. “One other little favor sir?”

“Yes?”

“We didn’t have a chance to eat at your fine establishment this evening. We are all going to be hungry later.”

“I will have a menu from the restaurant brought to your room. And I will personally make sure that everything meets your satisfaction.”

“Thank you,” and Harriet left. Mission accomplished, now how was Samantha?

The officer was strolling around outside the office. He saw Harriet and began walking straight towards her. Harriet took the initiative and met him half way. She held out her hand and said, “My passport please?”

“I am going to keep it. I will have it checked at my bureau.”

Harriet called his bluff. “It is the wrong color for that, sir. This was local robbery, not an international terrorist incident. I am sure you realize the potential repercussions if you keep that passport.” She looked him in the eye and did not blink. Her hand was still out stretched and he placed the passport in her hand.

“I know where you are staying,” he threatened.

“And so do I. If you need anything, please bring your superior with you. I’m sure mine will be arriving in just a few minutes.” And that time she wasn’t bluffing. She new Mona would have an embassy official there inside the hour.

Harriet hustled off to the elevator and returned to the penthouse. The officer was no longer outside the door. She knocked and announced herself. Lisa opened the door. She looked like a wreck.

“Is Samantha ok?” Harriet asked.

“Fine,” Samantha announced from her couch.

“What happened?”

“Just a little too much excitement for one night. I hyperventilated. It’s the corset I’m sure; too tight to breath you know.” It was meant as a slight dig at the corset she still detested.

Harriet wanted to hear what Lisa had to say. “What did the doctor say?”

“She will be alright. She just hyperventilated. What happened with you?

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nope. Everything is fine. We can order dinner and have it brought here. You too Andre.”

“Thank you Miss Harriet,” he replied in French.

Harriet turned to Lisa, “What did mom have to say?”

“You’re supposed to call her as soon as you return.” Lisa handed Harriet her cell phone. Harriet punched the redial and began talking almost immediately. “Excuse me,” she said as she walked into the bedroom. Two minutes later she returned.

“Well?”

“Andre, you have earned an attaboy from Miss Mona.”

“Attaboy?”

“Trust me, it is good,” and she winked at the big man.

“And I got an attagirl.”

“What for?” Sam asked.

“I kept your name and Lisa’s name off the record. I might even have gotten two attagirls. I’m not sure.”

There was a knock on the door and Andre moved to answer it. He returned with two menus which he handed to Harriet. “Mademoiselle, this is Mr. Harriman from the American embassy,” he said to Harriet.

“Excellent. Let’s order,” she answered.

“First, may I see your passport?” Mr. Harriman asked.

“Certainly,” and Harriet handed hers to him.

Harriman inspected the passport and handed it back. “Thank you.” He turned to Lisa and Sam and asked, “Now, may I see yours.”

“No,” Harriet declared.

“Why not, may I ask?”

“Yeah why?” Sam also asked.

“Because mom told me to keep your names out of this. Girls, show him the color of your passports. That is all he is allowed to see.”

Lisa took the two passports out of her purse and held them in the air. “That will not be adequate,” Harriman said calmly.

“Yes it will,” Harriet shot back. “If it isn’t, you and I will start making phone calls.”

“Please do so Miss Hawthorne.”

Both took out their cell phones. Harriet stepped on the balcony and called Miss Mona. “I’ll handle it,” Mona answered.

Harriet returned and Mr. Harriman was just finishing his call. “I have orders to see your passports, or I will leave.”

“That’s ok also,” Harriet told him.

“Well then, good day and good luck girls.” He was calling Harriet’s bluff. Mr. Harriman left.

“Why did you let him go?” Lisa asked.

“Because I don’t think we need him anymore, do we?”

Lisa and Sam both shrugged their shoulders.

“Let’s order.” She handed out the menus and they sat together on the sofa and began ordering. Five minutes later there was another knock on the door. Andre answered it, and found Mr. Harriman standing out front.

“May I enter?”

“Let him in,” Harriet called to Andre.

“Miss Hawthorne, it seems you have more importance than I assumed. I have been instructed to give you any and every service at my disposal. I shall make sure that no police will question you further. When do you plan to leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Fine. Between now and then there shall be no further intrusions on you privacy. This is my card and you can call me at any time.” He handed Andre 4 cards and left.

“I guess mom reached the ambassador,” Harriet snickered.

“You people are fucking amazing,” Sam said.

“Miss Samantha, you do not use that type of language,” Harriet said with a scowl. Then she broke into a grin. “Come on, let’s order. I’m hungry. And then I want to hear the whole story Samantha. Just what in the world really happened?”

The Samantha Project - Chapter 46 - 50

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Epicene Sam is given to Mistress Ann for the final step in his transition into Lisa’s wife and concubine.

Femdom, crossdressing, hair and hair salon, corseting, heels, appliances attached, sex, illustrations.

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

CHAPTER 46

The next morning found the three girls snuggled together in their king size bed. Because of the previous evening’s circumstances, the girls had retired without any additional sexual bonding. But Lisa’s schedule for Sam still had one piece of unfinished business. She and Harriet had decided the previous evening that Harriet would take Samantha one step further in the morning.

After sharing good morning kisses, Harriet asked if she might have some private time with Samantha. Lisa dutifully agreed, and she slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Harriet snuggled up tightly to Sam and said, “Samantha, you are going to be one of the most beautiful girls ever. While you are being trained here in Paris, may I come see you sometime?”

“Of course Miss Harriet, whenever you like.”

“Thank you. I look forward to spending some time with you. Before you go off to your feminization and hormone therapy, I would like to do something for you while you are still in your full boy mode.”

“What is that?”

“I would like to allow you to just once in your life make love to a girl when you are on top.”

“But as you said yesterday, you’re not a real girl.”

“It’s as close as you’re ever going to get Samantha. Would you like the top just this once?”

“Why not?” and Sam pulled up his negligee.

“Wait, you have to start between my legs, sweetie.”

“But … but you don’t have a real vagina, Miss Harriet,” he complained.

“My surgery left me with all of the nerve endings still intact. Your tongue will still bring me intense pleasure, Samantha. Come on, just like you do for Lisa. And when you’re done, you may take me from the top position.”

This was a big step for Sam. Even though Harriet looked like a normal girl, Sam knew he was going to perform cunnilingus on a male. He was going to go down on a boy! And he also knew that he really had no choice in the matter. He was going to be a Hawthorne concubine, so he was going to have to accept the fact that he would be expected to cheerfully provide sex to all of Lisa’s family; even those born with an unfortunate disadvantage.

With a big swallow, Sam slid between Harriet’s legs and looked up to her. “You may begin, Samantha. Just like you do for Lisa — nice and slow, soft and feminine.”

Harriet was impressed with Sam’s ability and concentration. He moved slowly and deliberately and gave Harriet more pleasure than she had ever experienced from anyone else going down on her. And that is saying a lot, because they practiced constantly at St. Hermaphrodite.

On the other hand, Sam quickly realized that he wasn’t pleasuring a real girl’s vagina. For one thing, the scent was all wrong. And the texture and juices and details of the labia were all wrong. And finally, Harriet’s clit was nothing like Lisa’s — and Sam should know. He was intimately familiar with Lisa’s nether region.

Harriet didn’t keep the effeminate boy between his legs very long. She and Lisa had made their point and Sam had willingly obeyed. Harriet could move on. She thanked Sam for his attention then opened her legs for him. Sam hiked up his negligee and moved up on Harriet. He took his position and slid his cock into her pre-moistened vagina. He and Harriet French kissed as he began sliding in and out of Harriet’s vagina. Harriet kept up with him, squeezing her muscles and milking her boy as best she could. In only a few minutes Sam was spurting his semen into Harriet.

Sam collapsed on Harriet and received another soft kiss followed by her tongue. “Was that ok for you?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, great,” Sam replied.

“See, you can have fun with another boy,” she said with a grin. “At least if he has the proper modifications, right?”

“Yes Miss Harriet, and you have the correct modifications,” he answered with an impish grin.

“Why don’t you go see if Lisa will let you in the bathroom? I’ll wait for the two of you to finish. The two of you might want a little private time together.”

A few minutes later Lisa returned to the bedroom. “So? How did it go?”

“Fine,” Harriet answered. “He went down on me and performed just great. You’ve trained him very well.” Left unsaid was their post-oral communion. Harriet did not have permission to allow Sam to fornicate in the top position. It was Harriet’s little gift to Samantha — girl to girl.

At the train station Harriet was the first to board her train back to school. The girls hugged and shared real kisses — no faux kisses — and the two inamoratas waved to Harriet as her train pulled out of the station. Sam, Lisa and Andre had to kill about an hour in the coffee shop, waiting for their departure back to Paris. It was an uneventful trip back, and both girls were happy to return to their Paris accommodations.

They spent the rest of their vacation shopping, sightseeing and clubbing. The following week and a half they were in a club every night. Lisa even had Sam dancing with boys a couple of times. Things were different now, and both girls realized it. Sam had accepted his new role and future. He was to become a concubine and serve his beloved Lisa. His liaison with Harriet had served a couple of purposes. Not only was he introduced to that little Hawthorne family quirk concerning the sharing of concubines, but he had also accepted his role of submitting to and obeying Lisa’s directions. When she “suggested” that the two of them dance with boys, with a pretty and sexy smile Sam readily agreed.

Now Sam hadn’t totally changed into Samantha the concubine. In spite of his favorable experiences with Miss Harriet, Sam still had his streak of homophobia. While dancing with boys was still not one of his preferences, he accepted the premise that he was expected to happily agree to any and all of Lisa’s requests. So with a big smile he accepted the hand of another male and followed him onto the dance floor where they spun and gyrated to the rhythm of the music. Lisa was especially proud and happy to see Sam’s positive attitude, so she pushed him one step further. At the conclusion of their dance, Lisa gave her manly dancing partner a big wet kiss. Then she looked at Sam, who instinctively understood that she was telling him to do the same. With his ruby red, collagen enhanced lips, Sam too gave his boy a sexy kiss. Just by looking at the boy, both girls could see Sam’s impact on the adolescent male’s hormones. Sam’s female persona of Samantha was one hot chick!

And Lisa loved what she saw. Her panties were instantly wet and she quickly called an end to the evening’s festivities. She had to have her courtesan back between her legs.

The rest of their vacation flew by for Sam. He was having the time of his life, enjoying the complex emotions of being a beautiful and sexy girl. During their remaining time together, they made additional stops at their favorite salon to get a facial or wash and set. They visited all of the best shops and boutiques and bought even more hats for themselves. They dined at the best restaurants in Paris and then went to the most upscale clubs on the continent. And after their dancing, they enjoyed a Grand Marnier crepe before returning to their love nest for an intimate conclusion to the day.

Sam relished his role of submissive and sexy courtesan. He liked being female and pretty and attractive. His reservations and doubts and baggage had all been left behind him. He could now accept and surrender to what he always wanted but could never admit. He enjoyed having Lisa take the lead and control his daily activities. He enjoyed being submissive and demure. He enjoyed flirting with Lisa and allowing her to seduce him and sexually dominate him. No dear reader, Sam was not submitting to a life of servitude and domination. He was enjoying and partaking in a partnership of wonderful vistas and mutual love. He was a willing and grateful participant in the next phase of his exciting new life. Sam was looking forward to becoming Samantha - the wife and concubine.

And he was looking forward to his training — although his enthusiasm was tempered by his anticipated isolation and loneliness. He was going to miss having Lisa with him on a daily basis. Entering into new territory and activities usually has its share of trepidation and anxiety for most people, and Sam was no different. What would his tutor be like? Would she like him? Would she be strict or lenient? Could he learn a foreign language? Would he fit in with his new environment? Could he really learn how to become a convincing female, an acceptable concubine and a loving wife? On and on the list of potential anxieties and questions went.

Intellectually, Sam knew all would be well. The family would make sure of that. But still those fears can haunt anyone embarking on a new journey. But in spite of all that, Sam knew all would be well and he was anticipating his journey with more enthusiasm than worry.

And so their fairy tale adventure drew to a close. On their last evening together in Paris, they dressed in their finest dresses, piled their hair in fancy styles and applied their sexiest cosmetics and fragrances. They dined at their favorite restaurant, sipped their favorite champagne and held hands under the table. And after a satisfying meal, they went to Escualita and danced with beautiful boys and sexy transsexuals. Andre again grabbed a tiny little table for the two beautiful girls to rest at while they sipped champagne and recuperated between their next dancing marathons.

And at the end of the evening, Lisa sensually peeled her courtesan’s expensive and feminine clothing from his soft body, applied fresh lipstick and fragrance, wrapped him in a sexy pink negligee and then took him in her arms. Lisa placed a soft kiss on Sam’s lips while she wrapped her arms around his waist and tightly squeezed his firm ass. She reached for Sam’s manicured hand and led him to another evening of pre-conjugal bliss in the City of Light. As always, Sam began between Lisa’s thighs; gently and slowly encouraging her to ever higher decibels of ear-splitting screams and intense, satisfying orgasms. Sam was the consummate chamber maid; soft, effeminate, patient and talented. If his plucked penis had been properly tucked and pantied he would have made a superb lipstick lesbian.

After spending a successful twenty minutes pleasuring his mistress, Sam was invited to roll on his back and lay over the edge of the bed. Sam loved this position. He slowly slid over the edge of the bed as Lisa straddled her paramour. Sam’s penis was already standing at attention as Lisa lowered herself and took Sam into her loins. As Sam slid further over the edge of the bed, Lisa leaned back and put unbelievable pressure — and exquisite pleasure — into Sam’s remaining masculine holdout. With Sam’s hair brushing the floor — Sam loved it — and the blood rushing to his head, his princess controlled his thrusting hips and slowed him down to prolong her pleasure. As much as Sam loved the tightness and fine sensitivity of Lisa’s cunt against his cock, Lisa was even more thrilled with the exquisite stroking against her clitoris. And of course Lisa was controlling the action.

Princess Lisa literally milked every ounce of pleasure from her prostrate lover as she brought herself to another orgasmic scream. Sam tried his best to thrust and stroke against his lover while she was enduring another glorious orgasm, and he eventually brought himself to nirvana. Both inamoratas were more than happy with the results of another successful evening of pleasure and training. Lisa had her effeminate boy on schedule for his conversion into her feminized concubine and boy-wife. All was well in Paris.

CHAPTER 47

Vacation was over. It was Monday, the day after three glorious and successful weeks in Paris. In two days Lisa would be in class at Harvard, and today Sam would be introduced to his mistress for the next 18 months. Lisa wanted her fiancée in the right frame of mind, so she dressed him in all pink. Sam had a luscious and lacy pink push-up bra squeezing his breast forms together for cleavage. His matching panties and camisole were pink and lacy also. He wore pink stockings with pink 2 inch pumps. Of course his frilly dress was a bright pink with white lacey edges around the hem and cuffs. And to finish off her pretty boy, Lisa gave him pink lipstick and tied a pink ribbon in his hair.

Sam had never been presented anymore effeminate and prissy than he was now dressed. He looked beautiful and totally controlled. Lisa was full of mixed emotions; she was very proud and happy with her boy and his conversion into her courtesan and fiancée. But she was also sad; today she would be parting from him for the best part of 18 months. She would be back to visit, but those would be short visits with limited opportunities for privacy and fun.

“Time to go, Samantha. Ready?”

Sam took a deep breath and with much trepidation answered, “I guess so.”

Lisa could sense the concern in his voice. She tried to reassure her boy, “Don’t worry Samantha. You are going to have a wonderful time. You’ll do just great.”

“I hope so. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“What a wonderful thought,” Lisa thought. He truly was accepting his situation and his devotion to Lisa. Damn! He was going to be just perfect, she thought.

“You won’t. I know you will be perfect, sweet Samantha. Let’s get going before I get all choked up.” Lisa took Sam’s hand and led him to the car.

The vehicle came to a halt and Andre walked back to open the door for the two girls. Sam swallowed and Lisa leaned over to give him a soft kiss on his pretty pink lips. “Come Samantha, it’s time for your next step.” Lisa again held Sam’s hand and led him up to the door of a very nondescript building. The door was old and weathered, but the rest of the building looked to be in good condition. Lisa reached up and used the door knocker to announce their arrival. The door opened almost immediately.

The first thing Sam noticed was her eyes. They were brown with little mascara and makeup and they immediately locked on him. Those eyes smiled at him! They looked kind, matronly and yet very sharp. They quickly flashed up and down him, taking in his posture, facial expressions, relation to Lisa (slightly behind her) and of course his dress. Then her lips began turning up. She liked Sam. He could tell. Little lines formed at the edges of her eyes and they squinted every so slightly as her big smile greeted him.

“Lisa, welcome, welcome. Please come in,” and she pushed the door open. Lisa and Sam stepped in and stopped, waiting for the woman to show them in. But instead the woman continued looking at Sam. “And you are Samantha. I was expecting a pretty boy, but you are even prettier in person. Samantha, welcome to your new home. Please walk this way.”

The woman led the two girls into a parlor. “Lisa, would you please wait for us in here?” and she opened a door to another room. Lisa walked into the other room and closed the door. It was a small room, but it had a desk with a monitor and set of headphones. Lisa took a seat, slipped on the headphones and then began watching the proceedings in the adjoining room.

The woman pointed to a small couch and invited Sam to sit. She watched as Sam used his best feminine training to take his seat. The woman smiled and sat down next to him. She sat very close to Sam and quickly placed her hand on Sam’s knee.

“Samantha, my name is Mistress Ann. That is how you will address me from now on. Understand?”

“Yes Mistress Ann.”

“Good. When we talk you will answer me with yes ma’am or no ma’am. Ok?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mistress Ann leaned away from Sam just a little so she could get a larger view of her new student. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she surveyed her young charge. “Samantha, you are a very pretty boy, as I said before. I look forward to guiding you through your studies and your maturation into a beautiful concubine. Lisa is going to be very pleased when you are finished here.

“There are some things we must discuss up front, Samantha. I think it is very important for both of us to fully understand what is expected of each other, and why we are here. I don’t want you to have any doubts as to your purpose here. Honesty between the two of us will be crucial to your successful transformation. If you have questions now is the time to ask.”

“Thank you ma’am.” Sam said.

“So let me explain why you are, and it starts with Miss Grace. Has Lisa explained Miss Grace’s history and upbringing?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Then please bear with me, but I like to be thorough. I am going to repeat the story and you may hear a few things you did not hear the first time.”

Actually, Lisa had left very little out. Sam thought Mistress Ann was a much better storyteller than Lisa, but there were only a few new facts and insights.

“So here are we are now, Samantha. Do you have any questions yet?”

“No ma’am.”

“Very good. Lisa has proposed to you and I understand that you have accepted. Congratulations on your engagement.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, what does that mean? Being engaged to Lisa, a Hawthorne, is different than normal situations. You are a boy and Lisa is a girl. Under normal conventions that would mean that you would be the husband and Lisa would be your wife. But that is not the case here. Correct?”

“I understand Mistress Ann.”

“I know you do Samantha. I have heard that you are very intelligent. But like I said, I want there to be no surprises for anyone. In this case you are to become the wife. You are to serve Lisa in the traditional role of a wife. But it is a little more complicated than that. Lisa will not be your husband. That would be silly. Instead, she is to become your mistress and you are to become her concubine. In your marriage vows you are to pledge your life and services to Lisa as her wife and concubine. And Lisa will pledge to be your mistress. Now what does that mean?”

Mistress Ann paused and looked at Sam. Sam understood it to be a rhetorical question and he merely waited for her to continue. “You will promise to do as Lisa instructs you. This is not meant to be a typical marriage where both parties are equal. That is not what this about. Instead, Lisa will look after your best interests and you will assist her in any way you can to help her do that. You must trust your mistress and accept that she always has your best interests in mind. This is critical Samantha. Can you do this? Can you accept a life where Lisa will take care of you and you must always do as she asks? Always?”

Sam’s throat was dry. He was being asked to fully commit and accept what Lisa had been leading him towards. He had to put up or quit. Today was the day. Sam swallowed and squeaked, “Yes ma’am. I understand and I accept my role. Lisa will be my mistress and I will be her wife and concubine.”

Mistress Ann smiled at Sam and congratulated him. “I know this is a big step and it can be scary. But I have helped several boys in your very same situation, and everyone has thanked me over the years. They still send me Christmas and birthday cards telling me how happy and how blessed their lives are. I am sure you will be no different Samantha.

“So what is my role in all of this? I am to help you on the path of your great adventure. Becoming a Hawthorne concubine requires many skills and much knowledge. I am here to help you learn everything you will need to know. You must first learn how to live as a beautiful girl, but you are not to become a girl, Samantha. While you are with me there will be some cosmetic surgery to make you even more beautiful and feminine. But under your dress, tucked beneath your panties you are to remain a male. That is what Lisa wants, and that is what it means to become a Hawthorne concubine.

“So I will teach you how to dress and walk and talk and live your life just like any other girl. Like any other “special” girl that is. Remember, you are to be a society girl, so you must also learn the etiquette and traditions of being in this new society. Much of it will seem very foreign, capricious and even difficult for you. But not to worry, I will teach you everything you need to know.

“Next, after becoming an acceptable society girl, you will need to know how to run a home. Now I am going to teach you how to make a bed, wash clothes and iron, and all sorts of domestic duties. But that will be only for background knowledge. You will not be expected to be a domestic, but you will be expected to manage, organize and control your domestic help. It is good to know these jobs so that you know how best to manage your boys.”

“Ma’am? Boys?”

“Yes Samantha. All of your domestic help will be pretty boys much like yourself. The Hawthorne family is a complete matriarchy, from their level down to the help. Most of their personal employees, your employees, are feminized boys with some being full transsexuals. You will find that they are much more loyal and grateful than most women, and definitely better than unconverted men. But more of that later.”

“Yes ma’am.” This was another surprise for Sam. He had never thought about the domestic help being boys. They were all so convincing as girls. He couldn’t help his mind from wandering just a little bit; he wondered about Jennifer.

“And finally, you will perform as Mistress Lisa’s hand and chamber maid. That means that you will be at her beck and call for any duty she might require. You must know how to bathe your mistress. You will have to pick out her clothes and help her dress. You must know hair care and makeup and how to give her a manicure or pedicure. You must be able to assist your mistress in all of her personal hygiene and clothing needs. You must even know how to do some sewing in cases of emergency.

“You must also know how to prepare her meals, provide afternoon tea and snacks, and attend to all sorts of duties. You will need to be her secretary and answering service. There are many responsibilities for you to learn. Mistress Lisa must be able to call on you for any and everything. And that also includes sex.

“In addition to all of those responsibilities will be your matronly duties. You will be expected to raise Mistress Lisa’s children. You will be their second mother.” Again Mistress Ann paused for effect.

Sam took a deep breath and muttered, “Raising kids. Being a mother? I have no idea how I can do that ma’am.”

Mistress Ann placed a warm hand on Sam’s knee and gave him a slight squeeze. “Don’t worry Samantha. When you leave here, you will know everything you need to know. How will you know? Let me give you an overview as to what your education is going to look like. We have been given 18 months to train you. That is how long it will take Mistress Lisa to earn her masters degree. When she graduates she wants you to be ready to serve her. So we must move with some urgency.

“Your stay will be split into 3 semesters of 6 months each — more or less. We must be flexible. In those 3 semesters we will take you from a 10 year old preadolescent to a mature woman of 23 or 24 years old.”

“Ten year old, ma’am?” Sam was confused.

“Yes Samantha. To be happy in your new life, to be comfortably adjusted to it, I have found that a boy needs a history. Just like a female wife has had years of training and indoctrination in her female life, you must also have a past to fall back on; something to rely on when difficult situations arise. Your feminine personality must be instinctive Samantha. And to be a proper mother, you must also understand what it was like to grow up as a little girl. You must know the children’s stories, the songs, the fairy tales. You need to know what it is like to dress and act and play like a little girl. It will be very useful and comforting to you later, plus it gives us a chronologic order to your training. Understand?”

“I think so. Yes ma’am.” It did make sense to Sam. He could see the usefulness of it. “But …” There was another question in Sam’s mind.

“Ssshhh,” Mistress Ann shushed him. “I know what you are thinking, and there is no cause for concern. This is not like those porno stereotypes that I am sure you have read about. It is not my intention to turn you into a sissy or humiliate you. And let me also point out one other concern that my young boys sometimes have. I do not use corporal punishment. I will never hurt you or humiliate you young Samantha. That is a promise. Ok?”

Sam felt relieved. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome Samantha. During your first semester, and through all of your time here, you will have many different routines and learning experiences. But there is one thing that will remain consistent over the full 18 months. You will have ballet lessons every morning at 7:30 AM. It is excellent for teaching flexibility, posture, coordination and composure. And it will give you the training to step into ballroom dancing which is a must for any cultured young lady.

“Now, your second semester we will promote you to an adolescent girl. Along with makeup, hair and dressing styles you are going to learn about sex. It’s not what you think — well maybe a little. There is much more to sex than 101 positions. You will learn the age-old skills of flirting and seduction. You will learn to control boys and girls with sexual tension and possibilities. Yes, you will learn many sexual techniques, including some that you have never thought of. You will learn about bondage, S&M, sexual massage and other interesting procedures. And after intercourse, you will learn all about post-coitus techniques, how to emotionally extend your bonding, and how to perform during your pillow-talk.”

Gulp. “Ma’am, I don’t think Lisa is interested in those things.”

“Samantha, you must learn now that you will no longer refer to your mistress simply as Lisa. In private you will address her as Mistress Lisa. In public you will use Miss Lisa. And at all times you will say yes ma’am and no ma’am. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you Samantha. To answer your question, Mistress Lisa might surprise you with her sexual preferences. But even if she is not interested in these items, some of the other Hawthornes might be. And remember, you must service anyone that your mistress gives you. So as you see, you must be prepared for all situations.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Also during your second semester you will work part time in a beauty salon. Hands on experience is the best way to learn hair care, makeup and all the cosmetic necessities of both being a pretty girl and servicing your mistress.

“Your third semester will see you reach slightly beyond your current age. As an early twenty something you will learn to become a mother. You will spend several hours each day working in the maternity ward of a hospital. You will learn to hold babies, change diapers, feed them and nurture them.

“So as you can see, you will be receiving a diverse and eclectic education aimed at helping you transition into a successful life as a wife and concubine. And of course along the way there will be many other items. In a matter of a few days I will stop speaking English with you. You will become conversant in French. And you will also begin your studies in political science. Miss Mona will send books for you to read and study. We will do a little traveling around France for your pleasure and diversion.

“That should cover your intellectual education. But there is also your physical transition. You will practice ballet and dancing, speaking and singing and such. In addition, every two months Dr. Ratchet will arrive for your facial peels. In fact, she will be here later this week for your second treatment. While she is here she will consult with a very talented plastic surgeon concerning facial feminization surgery for you. I know you will receive rhinoplasty to give you a smaller nose, but there might be another item or two. The two doctors will decide after they have examined you.

“And the final thing I want to discuss is your hormone therapy, which will start in about one month. Before we can start, you will need to donate sperm. Dr. Ratchet has already milked you a couple of times, but she would like more. So twice a week for the next couple of weeks, I will take you to a sperm bank for milking. When they have enough sperm, then we will begin you on your hormones. You will take two pills, one is an antiandrogen to counteract your testosterone. The other pill is progesterone to assist in the development of your breasts. Your estrogen you will receive by patch. By the end of our time together your breasts should be developing, your skin will be softening and you will have more curves and bigger hips. Your muscle mass will decrease and your arms, shoulders and legs will slim down to a more feminine shape.”

Mistress Ann stopped and settled back in her seat. She rested for a second and looked at Sam. “I know that is a lot to take in, but do you understand what we intend to accomplish? Do you have any questions Samantha?”

Sam thought for a moment then said, “No ma’am. I mean I have lots of little questions, but I understand the grand purpose and overall intentions for me.”

“That’s good Samantha. There are always lot’s of little questions, but let me help put some of your questions to rest. I have done this several times, and everything has always worked out great. As I said before, all of my ex-pupils keep in touch with. We share many ideas and discussions, but I assure you that every one of them is very happy in his new life.

“So now, I have just one last question for you Samantha. And it is a very important question. Now that you know our intentions for you, and you know what is expected of you for the rest of your life, do you want to do this? This is very important Samantha. You must be totally comfortable with what you have heard, and you must have no doubts about moving forward. Once we start, once I start devoting my time and resources to you, I do not want you to change your mind and quit on me. I do not want to waste my time or your time if you are not 100 percent certain and committed to your training Samantha.

“This will not be an easy 18 months. But it very well might be the best 18 months of your life. What do you say Samantha? I must know one way or another.”

Sam took a breath and nodded his head. “Yes ma’am, this is what I want. And I promise that I will work very hard and you will not be disappointed in me. I thank you and Mistress Lisa for this wonderful opportunity and I am ready to start as soon as you are.”

Mistress Ann gave Sam a big smile and patted him on his knee. “Very good Samantha. Then the first thing you need to do is say goodbye to your mistress. I will give you a minute of privacy.” Mistress Ann went into the other room and sent out Lisa. Mistress Ann watched on the monitor as Sam and Lisa embraced.

“I’m going to miss you,” Lisa sniffed.

“Me too. Will you come visit me?”

“Yes, but I don’t know when for sure. I’ll write to you.” They hugged and kissed as long as they could.

Their time was up as Mistress Ann stepped out of the back room. “Goodbye Miss Lisa,” she said to break up the pair. “Miss Samantha will write to you regularly.” Sam watched as Lisa walked out the door. A tear slid down his cheek.

Mistress Ann wouldn’t allow Sam to feel his temporary loss. She wrapped her arm around Sam’s shoulder and said, “Come, we need to get started.” She walked him down the hall and into a bedroom. There were two beds in the room. Both were canopied with one being a king size and the other being a single. “We will sleep and dress here, Samantha. This is my bed,” and she pointed to the king size. Moving over to the single bed she said, “And this is where you will sleep Samantha. Over the years I have found that it is best for us to share a room. We can bond quicker and I am closer to you to help you learn your day to day boudoir necessities.”

“The bath is there and I have already set you up with your toiletry needs. These dressers are empty now, but they will hold your clothes as we purchase them. Now, speaking of clothes it is time to change you into your new role. You are to be Samantha the ten year old. Please remove your clothes so I can see what we have to work with.”

Mistress Ann took a seat at a small vanity and writing desk. She pulled out a note pad, and a fabric tape measure from the center drawer. Crossing her legs she said, “Go ahead Samantha, remove everything.”

Sam was feeling self conscious, but Mistress Ann was going to be his tutor for the next year and a half. He was going to have to get used to their relationship sooner or later. Sam kicked off his shoes, then unbuttoned his dress and laid it on his bed. Mistress Ann smiled and encouraged Sam to continue. Sam continued, removing his slip, camisole and stockings, laying them carefully on his bed.

Sam was down to his lingerie. Mistress Ann said nothing, but encouraged him to continue. Sam reached behind his back and unfastened his pink brassiere, and laid it on his other clothes. Next he unlaced his corset and then his liner. He was left with his glued on breast forms and panties. Mistress Ann watched with keen interest as Sam slipped his manicured fingers inside the waist band of his panties and slid them down his smooth legs. As he straightened up he spread his legs and allowed his penis to swing free. He faced his mistress with his panties in one hand and his crumpled penis shriveled up and looking forlorn on his clean shaven crotch.

Mistress Ann smiled and stood. She walked over to Sam and held out her hand. Sam placed his panties in her hand. “You are looking very good Samantha. You have a nice start on your feminine body. You should be very proud of what you have accomplished so far. Your corset looks like it fits you well, but the rest of these clothes will no longer be needed.” She dropped Sam’s panties in the waste basket.

“You won’t be needing breasts, so please remove your forms.” The woman stood in front of Sam with her hand out, waiting for the breast forms. One by one Sam peeled them off and handed them to his mistress. To Sam’s astonishment and dismay, Mistress Ann tossed both forms into the trash.

“There is glue remover on the bath counter. Please go use it.” Mistress Ann followed Sam into the bathroom and watched as he removed his glue. Sam found it a little discomforting to have her watching him, but he was soon to discover that she intended to watch him all the time. It was her job to help him feminize his body and soul, and much to Sam’s chagrin that was a full time job.

When he was finished he was told to use the toilet. His mistress watched as he peed and shook his penis to shake off the last few drops.

“That is not how a lady finishes her toilet, Samantha. You will not manhandle your penis. Take a few squares of toilet paper and with one hand wrap the tissue over your penis and stroke the last drops out. Show me.” Sam did as he was told and his mistress watched him.

“A bit clumsy, but you have the idea. You just need more practice. Ok, please come with me.” Sam was stopped in front of the desk and told to stand there. Mistress Ann took her measuring tape and began measuring Sam’s anatomy. Like Dr. Ratchet, she measured everything from neck to ankles. The only thing she did not measure was Sam’s erect penis. But she did measure the length and circumference of his flaccid appendage. As she made her measurements she went down a list and wrote down the numbers and made little checks and notes.

“Comparing you to Dr. Ratchet’s last measurements it looks like you have put on a little weight, Samantha. That’s what good Parisian cooking will do for you. Please come here and step on the scale for me please.” Sam’s mistress weighed and recorded his weight.

“Well Samantha, we will need to reduce your weight, but we already knew that. I think your corset is a good fit for now, and it is very high quality. Please put it back on.”

After he was back in his corset, Mistress Ann inspected his fit and lacing. She made a few comments and suggestions, but all in all Sam had done an acceptable job. She then stepped into the closet and took out a small box. Removing the lid she pulled out some

rumba panties and handed them to Sam. “These are the style of panties that you will wear as a little boy. Do you like them?”

Sam had never seen such frilly panties and his first inclination was to consider them too frilly and too “young” for him. But then he realized that he was supposed to be dressing and acting like a young girl. “Yes, of course they are wonderful, ma’am.” he answered. Sam pulled them up his legs and reached inside to tuck his penis.

“Stop Samantha. You don’t have to tuck anymore. At least not until you reach adolescence.”

“I don’t?”

“Ma’am Samantha. Anytime you address me you will always use ma’am. Understood?” Mistress Ann did not raise her voice or emotions when she corrected Sam, she simply stated it as a parent would tell you the date.

“Yes ma’am.”

“No Samantha you do not have to tuck. You can stop tucking for the next six months. Is that ok with you?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I thought it would be,” she said with a grin. Next she pulled a white full length slip from her box and handed it to Sam.

“Don’t I need to put on a bra first, ma’am?”

“Les petites jeune filles et garçons ne portent pas de brassiá¨res.”

“Ma’am?”

“Little boys don’t wear brassieres, Samantha. You are going to become a little boy for the next six months. By then end of this semester you should have a start on nice little mounds. At that point you may start wearing a training brassiere. You are going to go through puberty both physically and chronologically Samantha. It will reinforce your new childhood as an effeminate boy.”

“Ma’am, I am to become an effeminate boy?”

Mistress Ann understood of course. Sam was worried about going in the wrong direction in his gender reassignment. “Yes Samantha. You are a boy; there is no doubt of that. But at the same time you are to dress and act like a little girl. When you begin to reach puberty we will feminize you; your appearance and lifestyle. But as a little boy without hormones or girlish attributes, you will just be an effeminate boy. Understand?”

“No ma’am, I am not sure.”

“Je ne comprend pas, ma’am.”

“I don’t understand, ma’am.”

“Exactly. That is how you say it in French. Repeat after me; Je ne comprend pas, ma’am.”

Sam did his best to imitate Mistress Ann. “Again. Again. Again.” Ten times she made Sam repeat the phrase. “I think it is a phrase that will be useful to you,” she said with a nice smile. Mistress Ann didn’t act or talk to Sam as a teacher would speak to a student. Instead, she sounded and acted more like a loving mother instructing her child.

“Let me explain it this way Samantha. We are making memories for you. I am sure that Sam has memories of his childhood as a boy; playing with friends and doing other things. And I suppose that at times these memories bring you comfort and pride in who and what you are. Am I correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oui, ma’am,”

Sam picked up immediately and repeated, “Oui, ma’am.”

Mistress Ann smiled at Sam’s quick connection. “Well that is what we are doing here. We are making memories for the future you. You know who that is, don’t you Samantha?”

Sam caught her hint immediately. “Samantha, ma’am,” he proudly answered.

“Samantha the boy who feminized himself so that he could live his life as a girl, to be a bit more precise,” she answered back.

“Oui, ma’am.”

“But your memories have to be real and honest, Samantha. Otherwise they will provide you no comfort when you most need them. Understand?”

“Oui ma’am.”

“Je comprend, ma’am. I understand ma’am.”

Sam repeated the phrase several times at Mistress Ann’s beckoning. “So your memories must be real and honest,” she reiterated. “In six months you will become a teenager. You will be into the start of your second puberty as your female hormones begin to take hold. Your nipples and breasts will become sensitive as they begin to blossom and grow. Your skin will become even softer and clearer. Muscle mass will begin to diminish and fat will relocate on your hips and buttocks. You will become softer, more curvaceous and buxom. You will become feminized Samantha.

“You are beginning as a boy dressing, acting and living as a girl. But you are not feminized now. You are an effeminate boy for the time being. That is what and who you are. Do you understand?”

Je comprend, ma’am.”

“Good, Samantha. And please notice that I used no derogatory terms to describe your current situation. I did not call you a sissy boy or describe you as prissy. I merely stated what you truly are. We are being honest, Samantha. There is no reason to be ashamed or sensitive to your situation. You are what you are and you are who you are. Do you see?”

“Oui. Je comprend, ma’am.”

Mistress Ann smiled and responded, “You are every bit as intelligent as I had been told Samantha. I am impressed. Please understand, to everyone else you will be a pretty little girl, but to us we will know that you are an effeminate boy learning to live life as a jeune fille. Now, please put on your slip.”

Mistress Ann handed Sam white stockings that came over his knees. Then she produced a pretty blue smock with cap sleeves and hem just below the knees. Over her blue dress, Mistress Ann placed a white apron that tied at the waist. And to finish his ensemble, Sam was given black patent shoes with 2 inch heels and a strap.

Sam looked very nice in his new clothes. Sam’s lack of not only breast forms but also his brassiere left him feeling odd — even a bit vulnerable. It was going to take Sam some time to psychologically accept the loss of his breast forms and bra. They had become an important component of Samantha the girl. The net effect was a younger looking Samantha. He was too big to pass for a preadolescent, but his lack of breasts made the appearance more reasonable.

“You look very nice young Samantha. Now come, we have an appointment for you at the beauty salon.”

“What about my makeup, ma’am?”

“Little boys do not wear makeup Samantha.”

A little sigh escaped Sam’s lips. He hadn’t expected this. It was going to be difficult changing from a beautiful and sophisticated woman into a little girl. He was feeling vulnerable and even a bit naked. “Yes, ma’am. If you would please hand me my purse I am ready to go.”

Mistress Ann smiled again and said, “Little boys do not need to carry a purse. What do you have to carry Samantha?”

Sam thought for a moment and replied, “Nothing ma’am. I am ready when you are.”

“Fine, then we shall leave. Please give me your hand and follow me. Whenever we leave the house I must always hold your hand. We can’t allow our young miss to wander off, now can we?”

“No ma’am.” And then Sam remembered that he didn’t have his purse — the purse he had carried as a big girl. He didn’t have his ID or passport or anything. He must have left it in the car. “Mistress Ann, I just realized that I left my real — I mean my previous purse in the car. I don’t have my ID or anything.”

“Not to worry Samantha dear, that was done on purpose. You will not need any identification while you are here.” Left unsaid was the true purpose. Neither Sam nor Samantha could run away. And no one else would be able to identify him.

Mistress Ann locked the front door then walked Sam to the salon. He felt very self conscious in public. Without his bra and breasts and makeup he felt totally wrong. He didn’t feel like a girl and he was worried other people could see that as well. He felt more like a boy dressing up as a girl; a little boy at that. Which is exactly how he was supposed to feel. Sam was now making memories of his earliest conversion from boy to girl.

The walk was short, not more than two blocks. They passed a few women who ignored the couple. As Mistress Ann opened the door to the salon, a little bell tinkled in a most quaint fashion. Sam took a deep breath and reveled in the wonderful smells. Sam was home. The pretty boy was hooked on salons.

“Mistress Ann, welcome,” a middle aged woman greeted them in French. “Is this pretty poppet your new boy?”

“Yes he is,” Mistress Ann said in English. “Samantha, would you please say hello to Madame Rupert. She will be your stylist today.” The two of them exchanged greetings, one in English and one in French. Madame Rupert understood both, but she had been instructed to speak only French to Samantha.

“Please come this way,” the stylist verbally instructed Sam, while she used her hands to indicate her wishes. With Sam sitting in his favorite chair, Madame Rupert asked Mistress Ann for instructions.

“Please remove young Samantha’s hair extensions and eyelashes. She will also need a manicure to a more age appropriate length. After we see her own hair let’s talk about her new style,” she said in English.

Madame Rupert swung Sam’s chair away from the mirror and facing towards a row of chairs. Mistress Ann took a seat directly in front of Sam and chatted with him as Madame Rupert first removed his eyelash extensions, and then his hair extensions. When she was finished, she swung the chair around so Sam could see his reflection in the mirror.

Sam almost began crying. All of his favorite and most important female traits were being stripped from him; first his bra and breasts and now his hair. His hair was SO short! Or so Sam believed. Actually it had grown over the last several weeks and was now long enough to cut into a short, female style. But that is not what Sam saw. He missed his long hair and curls. He looked liked a — gasp — boy! A boy under a salon cape. He had no makeup, no jewelry and now no hair. A tear slipped from his eye and rolled down his cheek.

Mistress Ann who was now standing beside him used her finger to wipe away the tear. “Do not worry Samantha. Madame Rupert will give you a nice appropriate style for a little girl. Now your own hair can grow out and you can enjoy the pride of growing into your feminization.” Turning to the French stylist she asked, “So Madame, what do you suggest for our disappointed little boy?”

“His hair is not that short. I can give him a pageboy. With his face I think it will look very cute and acceptable.”

“How about bangs?”

“They will be short, but they can grow out with his new style. Yes I think that would work for young Samantha.”

Mistress Ann switched to English and explained their conversation to Sam. “I think it will look very good for the image you are trying to project. You have the final say Samantha. Shall Madame Rupert proceed?”

With deep regrets over loosing his curly locks and older female appearance, Sam reluctantly responded, “Yes ma’am.”

Madame Rupert took Sam to the sink and washed and conditioned his hair. As sad as Sam was, he could at least take comfort in a routine that he not only felt comfortable with, but he enjoyed immensely. Sam did like being pampered in a salon.

After his washing, Madame Rupert made short work (sic) of cutting and styling his hair. She used her brush and hair dryer to turn the hair under and add more volume to it. When she was finished, he looked a bit more girly. Sam could take some satisfaction in that.

After finishing with Sam’s hair, Madame Rupert removed his nail polish and filed his nails down to a short length; boy length Sam thought. “I’m being turned back into a boy,” he thought to himself. This was not at all what he had expected. He had expected to be feminized even more. That is what he wanted. He didn’t want to go back to being a boy. That part of his life was behind him; at least he thought so. But now he was being remade as a boy. He looked more and more like a boy pretending to be a girl.

Upon the completion of Sam’s nails and hair, Mistress Ann signed for the work and again took Sam’s hand. “Say goodbye to Madame Rupert, Samantha.”

“Goodbye Madame Rupert.”

“Au revoir Samantha.”

Mistress Ann walked Sam outside and they turned down the street. “We are going to a dress maker Samantha. She will need to measure you so that she can finish some new clothes for you. I had to take a guess on the dress that you are wearing. Now we will get some clothes that fit properly.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am,” Sam dutifully responded.

As they walked down the street, hand in hand, they again passed a few people, but no one said anything to or about Sam. They even passed another woman walking a young girl. The young girl was dressed in a frilly and lacy dress with petticoats underneath. The woman was holding the little girl’s hand, just like he and Mistress Ann.

One block away they turned into another quaint shop. All of the architecture in the neighborhood looked old and slightly dilapidated, and the dress shop was no different. Another bell tinkled as the mistress and her child entered. “Hello,” Mistress Ann called out.

“Back here,” a voice rang out in French. Mistress Ann led her young boy into the back.

“Bonjour Madame Longet.”

“Bonjour Madame Lange. Is this our new boy? He is very pretty.” Madame Longet was speaking in French just as she had been instructed.

“Samantha, please introduce yourself to Madame Longet.”

“Hello Madame Longet. I am Samantha.”

Mistress Ann handed a piece of paper to Madame Longet. Sam recognized the paper. It had all of Sam’ measurements on it. Madame Longet studied the paper and clucked several times. “Our little boy has put on some weight,” she told Mistress Ann. “Do you want me to dress him as is, or should I anticipate you removing his excess weight.” Her tone was just the tiniest bit snippy.

Mistress Ann heard the tone in Madame Longet’s voice and returned her attitude. “I shall have the weight off my boy in one week.”

Sam also could tell there was a little tension in the room, but he had no idea as to why. “Is everything ok, mistress?” he asked.

“Madame Longet is concerned that you have put on some weight, Samantha. I have assured her that you will loose it within the week.”

“I will ma’am. I promise.” Sam thought a second and added, “But mistress, I am wearing my corset and it is fully closed. So my size should be the same.”

Mistress Ann smiled at her young boy and explained, “You are thinking like a boy Samantha. It is not just your waist that is important. Extra weight shows up in your hips, your thighs and your arms.” Then she added some new information, “Miss Maggie thinks you look fine with a 26 inch waist. But I think you can reduce to a 24 inch waist. You are a small boy after all Samantha. I shall discuss it with Dr. Ratchet when she arrives.

“Now please step up on the pedestal so that Madame Longet can get a closer look at you.”

Before measuring Sam, Madame Longet had him remove his dress. She made a few measurements of her own, then began handing him dresses. He would try on the dress and Madame Longet would check a few items, and sometimes pin up a hem or collar. Sam tried on several frilly and lacy dresses.

After an hour at the dress shop, Mistress Ann and Samantha left for their next stop. “We need to stop at the ballet school and get you some tights and shoes for tomorrow.” They walked half a block and reached the school.

“It is convenient that everything is so close, ma’am”

“That is no coincidence young Samantha. This ten block area of Paris has served the rich and powerful for almost two hundred years. We have served royalty, premiers, the very rich and for an unfortunate time, even Nazis. Our work of transforming little boys into mature girls has been going on right here, invisible to our neighbors and the occasional tourists that wander through here.”

“Royalty have used your services, ma’am?”

Mistress Ann smiled at Samantha. “Yes my dear boy. We have even transformed a prince into a princess. Dukes, sons, heirs, nephews and even an enemy or two have received the benefit of our talents.”

“And no one knows that you are here?”

“Ma’am Samantha. Every time you speak to me I must hear either ma’am or mistress come out of your pretty lips.” Mistress Ann was very gentle in her admonishment.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Some of the neighbors may suspect, but that is all they can do. We keep to our selves and we keep a very low profile. Over there is an elementary school with over 100 boys. But no one would ever suspect. And over there are their dormitories. They travel between buildings mostly through the interior courtyards, or in tunnels under the streets. We can move our students anywhere we want without having to come out on the public streets. All of these shops have back doors into our own private world.

“But once in a while, like today we might take to the public through ways. In fact, you have passed one or two boys. But we never acknowledge each other in public. We try to draw no attention to ourselves. So as you can guess, everything that we need to help you achieve your goal of becoming a beautiful concubine is right here in walking distance.”

“Wow, that’s neat.” And then he quickly added, “Ma’am.”

Mistress Ann bought Sam his ballet clothes then took him home. She pointed out the bakery, pharmacy, doctor’s office, and several other shops on the way back. Back in his new home, Mistress Ann took him to the kitchen where they cut up some fruit for a light snack. Then Sam was led upstairs to a “play room” that was filled with dolls and books.

There were many dolls, but Mistress Ann pointed out the Barbie dolls first. As Mistress Ann sat in a rocker she instructed Sam to bring over the Barbie doll.

“Please sit at my feet, Samantha. Now, you are going to be spending some time each morning here in the play room. You will begin by dressing Barbie and her friend Ken. Only I think we will call them Lisa and Samantha. How does that sound?”

“Fine, ma’am.”

“I will tell you what dress to put on Barbie, and then it will be your job to accessorize her. And after Lisa is dressed, then you will have to dress Samantha. Now it is important that you dress Samantha to compliment Lisa and not clash with her. This game is designed to teach you fashion sense. But it is not a child’s game, Samantha. All of the dresses have been made by Madame Longet. They are made from various fabrics and they are made exactly as their full size counter parts. You will learn about fabrics, jewelry, shoes and accessories in this game.

“Later, you will handle the larger dolls, learning how to handle them as if they were real babies. Also in this room you and I will read teen magazines and fashion magazines and even some of the popular celebrity magazines. They will all be in French so you can practice your language lessons while looking at current fashions and makeup and even reading some articles on dating, relationships, boys and girls and all the things that a modern girl needs to be aware of.

“How does that sound, Samantha?”

“Fine, ma’am.”

“Good. Then shall we begin dressing Lisa?” For the next hour Sam would pick out dresses and bring them back to his spot on the floor. He would sit in front of Mistress Ann as she rocked to and fro, and dress his dolls, following the advice and comments of his mistress.

In mid afternoon they took a break, “Time for tea, Samantha.” Mistress Ann led Sam to the kitchen where she put some water in a tea kettle and set it on the stove. “Once Madame Longet finishes your new clothes, you will be expected to make tea while dressed in a maid uniform. Whenever you are performing domestic duties you will dress as a domestic. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am. When I help Miss Maggie we both change into our maid uniform.”

“I am happy to hear that Miss Maggie is still following the lessons I taught her.”

“You taught Miss Maggie? She studied here also?”

“Ma’am Samantha, ma’am. If it makes it easier for you, always start your sentence with ma’am. It might help you remember.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yes Samantha, Miss Maggie was one of my first private boys.”

“Ma’am? Private boys?”

Mistress Ann carried the tea kettle to a table already set for their afternoon tea. As they sipped their tea Mistress Ann explained a few things to Sam. “I mentioned earlier that this little neighborhood has been here for a couple hundred years. We have been transforming little boys into pretty girls for the rich and affluent for all that time. But we do it primarily through our schools. We have an excellent primary and prep school here. We operate all year long, although some boys return home for summer vacation.

“We have a very high teacher to boy ratio. That is important when you are guiding young boys around the clock. Believe it or not, without full time supervision little boys, even little boys dressed in fine silk, tend to become mischievous,” she grinned at Sam. Sam enjoyed the humor and returned her grin. “That is where most of our tutors are employed. But those are also the lowest paying jobs. Don’t get me wrong Samantha, the teachers are still paid very well. Very well indeed compared to other teachers. Like I said, we cater to the rich and powerful.

“To increase one’s income, some of the more enterprising matrons open their own shops to cater to our community. The locals also peruse our shops, but the primary customers come from our little community. But the most highly paid matrons are the ones that take a single boy and provide full time transformation guidance. It is a very time intensive job. You and I will live together for 24 hours a day for 18 months.

“This is not a career for everyone. First you have to have the temperament and desire, and you must be very knowledgeable of your craft. And second you must love what you do. Samantha, I love my job. I adore pretty boys and I love turning them into confident and consummate women. The best part of my job is watching you grow into your new life. And the proudest day of my life is the day that you graduate and I return you to Miss Lisa.

“But that will also be a sad day for me. I will miss you Samantha. I will miss having you live with. That is why I am always so happy to hear from my past students. And I am also proud when I hear that my students are doing well and remembering their lessons. I am truly happy to hear that you and Miss Maggie still follow her lessons so many years later.”

“Ma’am, how many students have you taught?”

Mistress Ann laughed. “Samantha, you are trying to guess as to hold old I am. You are a little vamp! I will save you the trouble, I am in my sixties.”

“Ma’am, you are very pretty and I would not have guessed your age. But I truly am interested in your other students. Who were they and how have they fared in their new lives.” Sam paused for a second and then added, “Are they all happy with their decision?”

Mistress Ann reached across the table and took Sam’s hand. While holding his hand she looked into his eyes. “You have nothing to fear young Samantha. I have taught many boys, including most of Miss Grace’s sons, grandsons and concubines. I am the highest paid matron in our community Samantha. And the reason is because I am the best. I say that not to brag, but to reassure you. And I also want to assure you, every boy is now immensely happy.”

Sam smiled and asked, “Ma’am, was Miss Maggie a good student?”

Mistress Ann chuckled. Samantha could sense the memories that Mistress Ann was pulling up. “Yes he was. Maggie knew early in life what he wanted. Sort of like you. But he was much more confident at a much earlier age. Miss Mona often laments the fact that she didn’t have to chase Maggie to convince him to become a girly concubine. Miss Maggie constantly wanted to move faster than I would allow him. He was like the teenage girl that wants to be twenty, and sneaks around behind her mother’s back, wearing makeup at too young an age.

“And Maggie was without a doubt the best cook I have ever had. She went on to culinary school after she left me.”

Samantha smiled. “I like Miss Maggie. Did you have any other interesting students, ma’am?”

“All of my students were interesting. And all of them were my favorite. But they were all different, Samantha.”

“Who was the prettiest, ma’am?”

“You are one for questions, aren’t you young Samantha? This is your last question, then you must go study. All of my boys grew up to be beautiful girls. But far and away the most beautiful girl I have ever had was someone you know; Gisela. Even as a boy he was beautiful. The first day I put him in a dress he radiated beauty and sophistication. The other matrons constantly commented on his beauty. And once his hormones kicked in, once he truly began transforming into his feminized body, he became a stunning beauty. After reaching her “teen” years, wherever she went she was the center of attention.

“And you dear Samantha have all the earmarks of being the same. I see so much potential in you that I am constantly reminded of Gisela. And you are why I continue to take new boys. Because every once in a while a true gem falls into my lap. And I love gems, Samantha.

“Now, you need to clean up the dishes.”

Mistress Ann brought Sam back to the last room in the house. It had at one time been a small bedroom, but now it was as a study. It had a couple of easy chairs with floor lamps behind each. There was a large desk with another lamp, and sitting on the desk was a book.

“Each afternoon you will study until 5:30. Miss Mona has sent me a few books for you to begin reading. This is your first assignment Samantha,” and she handed the book to Sam. Mistress Ann took a seat in one of the easy chairs and picked up a hard bound book. Before opening her book, she watched Sam as he settled in at the desk.

Sam set the book in front of him and looked at the title; “When in the Course of Human Events- Arguing the Case for Southern Session” by Charles Adams. “Exactly what I would have expected from Miss Mona,” Sam thought to himself. “Well Miss Mona, I will read this book, I will absorb it and I will memorize. And I will read all of your books and I will talk your talk to the day Mistress Lisa is elected President. But on that day, you will find a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I will honor my promise to Miss Harriet, and I will not financially hurt your family. But I will make Lisa the most compassionate and progressive president our nation has ever seen. Samantha may be building new memories for herself, but Sam shall never forget where he came from. I once promised my mother that I would make things better when I grew up, and now I have been given that opportunity. I will not fail her.” Sam opened the book and began reading. He fully intended to become the smartest and best campaign manager in the history of his nation. Samantha Springer (his “public” name) would be a phenom.

At 5:50 Mistress Ann closed her book and told Sam to pick an appropriate point to stop his reading. “Time to prepare dinner,” she told her effeminate boy. “Normally you would have on your maid uniform, but tonight you will have to settle for an apron.”

Their meal was meager, but tasty. Mistress Ann was going to make sure that Sam lost that extra weight. After cleaning the table and dishes, Sam was taken back to their bedroom. “It is time to prepare for bed young Samantha. When you are finished here, we will watch a movie then retire for the evening. Now the first thing I would like you to do is undress and remove your corset.”

Sam removed his clothes and placed them where Mistress Ann instructed. When he was totally stripped Mistress Ann said, “I understand that you use sit ups to keep your abdominal muscles firm. I think you will find ballet is even better, but this is a good habit for you. You won’t always be practicing ballet. So please show me what you do.”

Mistress Ann watched him do only ten sit ups and she stopped him. “You’re being sloppy Samantha. You know how to do better sit ups. Slow down and make sure you go all the way from flat on your back to stretching your abdomen as far as you can go and then returning to your prone position. Slow and deliberate is the best technique Samantha. Now start over.”

When he was finished Mistress Ann said, “Better. To the bathroom and prepare your bath.”

While the tub was filling Mistress Ann showed Sam where all of his toiletries were located. “Floss and brush your teeth.” By the time Sam was finished the tub was full. “In you go dear. Ten minutes and ten minutes only. Any longer and you will begin to loose precious skin oils. Any less and you will not be able to fully absorb the emollients.”

Mistress Ann sat in a chair and watched Sam as he enjoyed his bath. With one minute left she said, “Use the shampoo and wash your hair. Then use the crá¨me rinse.”

When young Samantha was finished Mistress Ann showed him how to wrap a towel around his hair and another around his torso. “You will wash and set your hair every other night. Now here are the cleansers that Dr. Ratchet has recommended for your skin, please go ahead and apply them.” Once again Mistress Ann watched Sam go through his nightly routine.

When Sam was finished, Mistress Ann took the boy back to the vanity and had him sit in front of the mirror. She handed him a brush and told him to brush out his wet hair. “Now I will show you how to set your hair. I will put in the first curler, and then you can try.” Sam’s hair was short, so Mistress Ann had him use her smallest curlers. Plus, she also wanted as many curlers as possible in Sam’s hair for the evening. Mistress Ann patiently worked with Sam teaching him how best to set his hair for sleeping on curlers. There was a technique to everything she told him. When they were both satisfied with Sam’s set, he placed a hair net and scarf over his curlers.

“Put your corset back on, Samantha.” When comfortably strapped into his corset, Sam was given a set of pink, silk pajamas for his evening wear. He put a light silk robe over his pajamas, stepped into a pair of fuzzy slippers and returned the towels to their proper place in the bath room. He glanced in the mirror and thought he looked a little more feminine with the curlers in his hair. But his pajamas, robe and slippers looked childish on him. And without his breasts, he thought he looked even more like a child; like a little boy dressing in his sister’s clothes. Sam preferred his old look when he was with Lisa. He was pretty and very convincing then. He missed his boobs and curly hair. And he missed Lisa.

Sam was ready for his evening entertainment. Mistress Ann returned to the front parlor and slid a disc into the DVD player. “We are going to be watching a lot of movies, Samantha. We will start with movies appropriate for a little girl, and later we will move into romance and date movies. For the first couple of weeks you will need to become familiar with the Disney princess classics. So tonight we will start with Sleeping Beauty.” The movie was in French with English subtitles. Over the next several weeks Sam would see all the princess movies several times, before Mistress Ann removed the subtitles and they watched the movies again. Mistress Ann would stop the non-subtitled movies and quiz Samantha on what had been said. These movies, along with nursery rhyme singing, would be a key component to Sam’s early French lessons, and his indoctrination into the life and mind set of a little girl.

At the end of the movie they moved back to the bedroom. “Samantha, you will now remove my clothing.” Sam’s eye got large and his mistress giggled. She knew exactly what he was thinking. “No Samantha we are not going to have sex. And I apologize for not being as attractive as your Miss Lisa. But one of your duties as Miss Lisa’s handmaiden will be to help prepare her for bed. So you get to practice on me. As you remove each article of clothing you need to lay it on the bed. After you have helped me into my negligee I will go the bathroom and you will then put the clothes in their proper place. When finished, turn down my bed and stand by it until I return.

“Yes ma’am.” Sam was surprised by Mistress Ann. When he had removed all of her clothes he found her to be in remarkably good shape … for someone her age that is. Her figure was still shapely and she had not added much fat. Her breasts looked firm and did not sag, and her skin was still soft with no wrinkles. Her muscles looked toned and Sam saw no flab on her. He was impressed and wondered how she managed to still look so good. He would find out the next morning at the ballet school.

Mistress Ann returned after completing her nightly routine and slipped into bed. “You are to pull the duvet over me, wish me goodnight, turn out the light and go to bed,” she told Sam. Sam followed her instructions and crawled into his own bed. The bed was softer than he had expected, and it squeaked every time he moved. The squeaks were there on purpose. It would be difficult for Sam to do anything without Mistress Ann hearing.

Both laid awake thinking about the other. Each was happy with her new partner.

CHAPTER 48

The next day began with the radio alarm turning on and playing soft music. Mistress Ann rolled over in her large bed and pushed the duvet off her. She slipped on a pair slippers and a robe. “Samantha, time to rise and shine. Please come with me.”

Sam rubbed his eyes and stretched. He followed his mistress into the bathroom and waited for his instructions. “Please use the toilet first.” Sam did as he was told. When he was finished he wiped his penis as he had been taught. “Move to the bidet and make sure to wash your bottom Samantha.”

Afterwards, Sam brushed and flossed, put on his deodorant, washed his face and moisturized with Dr. Ratchet’s prescription solution and went about his normal routine. Mistress Ann watched and made only a few comments. They returned to the bedroom for dressing. “Normally you will put on a maid uniform, but today we have only one dress for you to wear. Here is a pair of fresh panties, start with them.” Mistress Ann handed Sam another pair of frilly rumba panties.

Sam felt a little silly sliding the panties up his smooth legs, but he understood the reason for them. Mistress Ann watched Sam finish dressing. “Now over to your vanity and remove your curlers.” Sam took a seat and removed his scarf and hair net. Then he began unrolling the curlers one by one, dropping them into a little bucket. The pins went in a shallow dish with a hinged cover. When he had removed the last curler, he was handed a brush and told to brush out his hair.

Mistress Ann handed Sam a pair of pink barrettes. “These are popular with the girls now. Slip one on each side to hold your hair back from your face.” Sam put them in his hair and Mistress Ann said, “There, now you look like a little girl. Next, each morning you will go prepare a bath for me. Let me show you which bath beads I would like you to use for me. Then you will come get me from my bed.”

When her bath was ready she instructed Sam to help her undress. “I’ll show you where to put my clothes after my bath,” she said as she slipped into the warm water. “Samantha, take that soap and lather the loofah, then you can begin washing me. Start with my feet and move up each leg.” Sam felt a little odd washing his mistress, but he knew it was a duty he would have to perform. It was just that … that she was so much older than him. This would have been easy with Lisa, but Mistress Ann was different. It was like becoming intimate with his grandmother. It just felt odd is all. He eventually got over it.

Mistress Ann guided Sam through the rest of her bath. She lifted her leg and placed it on the side of the tub. “Lather my leg, and then I want you to shave it, Samantha. There is a razor in the top drawer.”

Sam retrieved the razor, but before he lathered her leg he said, “Ma’am your leg doesn’t need shaving. There is no hair on it.”

“I know Samantha. This is practice. Please begin.” Sam shaved both legs for his mistress and he didn’t knick her once. “Good work, young Samantha,” she said as she stepped out of the bath. Please hand me one towel and use another to begin drying me.” Mistress Ann wrapped her towel around her breasts, then raised it so Sam could towel off her tummy. She held out her arms for Sam to dry, and then she turned, allowing him to dry her shoulders and back. “Very good Samantha. Now please wait here while I finish my morning toilet.”

Sam watched as the older woman used the toilet and bidet. “See how it is done?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mistress Ann brushed her teeth, and spread moisturizer over her face. She handed the jar to Sam and dropped her towel. Please moisturize my skin from neck to feet Samantha. Don’t use too much.”

Sam gulped. Spreading the moisturizer on her back and arms and legs was going to be no problem. But on her breasts and ass … that was going to be awkward. His mistress smiled at him, knowing full well what was going through his mind. She said nothing as Sam began. Sam started with her back and shoulders, then moved to her arms. She turned to him and presented her chest to him.

Sam very tentatively spread the silky cream over the top of her left breast. Mistress Ann took his hand and held it over her breast. “Samantha, I know this might feel a little awkward to you, but you are to be my handmaiden. As a handmaiden you must consider my body to be your body. You must be perfectly comfortable around me so that you can serve me properly. You would never spread moisturizer over your breasts in such a sensitive and tentative manner. This is not sexual; even though you are a boy and I am a girl. We are both girls now. Please start again.”

“Yes ma’am.” Sam listened to her and he tried, but this would definitely take some getting used to. Mistress Ann knew that also. Sam finished his assignment and then followed his mistress back into the bedroom. My panties and bras are in the top drawer. Please bring me a matching pair and help me put them on.

Sam picked out a pale blue set and returned to his mistress. He knelt on the floor and held the panties for her to step into them. He slid them up her legs and snugged them on her hips. Then he held the bra by its straps so she could put her arms through. Mistress Ann immediately turned around and let Sam clasp the bra.

“Camisoles are in the second drawer, please pick out a matching cami.” Sam helped her slide it over her head. “In my closet is a white sun dress. Please bring it to me.” When Sam opened her closet he saw dozens and dozens of dresses. He guessed as to the one she wanted and held it up for her to confirm. “No, keep going.”

On his second attempt Sam picked the correct dress. He then helped Mistress Ann step into it, and he buttoned the back and tied a sash around her waist. “I would like to wear open toed, beige sandals, Samantha. Please bring them to me.” Sam again went into the closet and picked up what he thought were the right shoes. “Good boy Samantha. Please bring them to me.” Sam placed them on the floor and she stepped into them.”

“Very good Samantha. Now you shall make the beds.” Mistress Ann took him step by step through the proper procedure to make their beds. After they had made the beds and cleaned up around the room Mistress Ann said, “We shall go get some juice and a bit of toast. Please follow behind me.”

In the kitchen Mistress Ann talked Samantha through preparing their meager breakfast. They would have a better breakfast after ballet lessons. Sam cleaned up the kitchen and was told, “Normally you would return to your room to change out of your maid uniform and into today’s dress. But that is not necessary today. Let’s go to your ballet lessons, Samantha.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mistress Ann took Sam’s hand and led him down the street to the ballet school. There was an electronic pad on the door, and Mistress Ann keyed in the password. There was only one light in the entry as they walked to the back of the room where they entered a door that said “Filles”. Mistress Ann flipped on a light switch and Sam saw a room lined with lockers. On each locker was a name. Mistress Ann knew right where to go. One locker said M. Ann and the adjoining locker said M. Samantha. Mistress removed a key from her purse and opened both lockers.

Inside Sam found the tights and shoes they bought the previous day. “Please change into your ballet clothes Samantha.” Included was a corset, but the fabric looked more supple and thinner than Sam’s corset. Sam removed his clothes down to his corset. “Corset too Samantha, but leave on your liner. The ballet corset is much more pliable for you.”

Both girls changed clothes and put on their ballet shoes. Mistress Ann locked their lockers then pointed out the necessity room. They returned to the gym and found all of the lights on and Madame Piaget doing some stretching exercises. Mistress Ann pointed Sam to a bench, then went to join Madame Piaget. Sam sat on the bench and watched the two women limber up. Sam suddenly realized how his mistress kept in such fine shape.

While he was waiting, girls started filtering in through a rear door. They all said, “Bonjour Madame Piaget,” as they filed in, then they glanced at Sam. Some smiled, some giggled and some merely ignored him as they went into the locker room to change. A few minutes later they returned from the locker room in groups of two and three girls. They were talking and joking with each other. They looked at Sam but again said nothing.

Madame Piaget finished her exercises and waited for the remaining girls to arrive. When 15 girls had arrived she clapped her hands. The playful girls turned their attention and listened to a short speech by Madame Piaget. Sam heard his name two or three times. While they were listening to their teacher, Sam was studying the girls. They were about 13 or 14 and all were very lithe and pretty. They had the curves and small breasts of teenagers.

Madame Piaget finished her speech and one by one the girls walked to Sam. Each girl did a small curtsey and said, “Mon nom est Suzanne,” and “Mon nom est Francoise,” and “Mon nom est Karin,” and all the way through the entire group of 15 girls. Each girl gave Sam a polite smile and seemed to be very nice. Madame Piaget gave some additional instructions and all of the girls ran out on the floor. She pointed to a spot for Sam, and he also took a seat on the floor.

Mistress Ann said in English, “Follow Madame Piaget, Samantha.” Then she walked over to rail and began stretching. Sam half watched his mistress and half followed Madame Piaget as she led them through their stretching exercises. Sam was intrigued and impressed with his mistress’s abilities. He became so engrossed in watching her that the next thing he heard was clapping hands. He turned to Madame Piaget and she was giving him a stern look. She spoke in French and pointed to her eyes. The girls around the room giggled as Sam was properly chastised. He turned his complete attention to his teacher.

As the lessons moved along Sam was embarrassed as to how much better the girls were than he. He could be barely do some of the moves they all managed to accomplish with ease and flair. When they took turns and Sam would miss a move, some of the girls would giggle. Sam would turn red and Mistress Ann would smile.

About 90 minutes later Madame Piaget released the class. The girls all went running and jumping into the locker room to change clothes. Mistress Ann called Sam over to a chair next to her. “We will let the boys all change before we do like wise. They have to move rather fast to get to their next class. So how did you like your first lesson?”

But Sam didn’t hear her question. His attention stopped at the word boys. “Those were all boys, ma’am?”

Mistress smiled at her young boy. “Yes, of course Samantha. They are just like you, only a little younger. What did you think?” She knew the answer.

“Wow. I thought they were all girls, ma’am. They looked so pretty and so … good at ballet. They way they moved was just like a real girl.”

“And that is why you are here, Samantha. Ballet will do that for you also. In no time at all you will be moving with their grace and balance.”

“I hope so ma’am. They were all very graceful.”

The boys began leaving the locker room, dressed in their pretty school uniforms of blouses, skirts and knee socks. Some waved at Sam as they left. In the locker room, they donned shower caps and took a quick rinse in the showers, then changed back into their street clothes. Mistress Ann walked Sam home to his next lesson of the day.

“With tightlacing it is important to not only watch what you eat, but how much and when. It is best to eat a small amount every two or three hours. After your ballet lessons each day we have our “big” breakfast.” The “big” breakfast wasn’t all that big. Sam was instructed to prepare cereal, fruit and milk. Later, when Sam had reached his weight target, Mistress Ann would add a few strips of bacon. But that was still weeks away.

After breakfast they went to the playroom. Sam and Mistress Ann played with the “Lisa” and “Samantha” dolls, dressing and undressing them several times. Mistress kept up a constant dialog explaining fashion and fabric details. After dolls they moved onto a children’s book for teaching French. And for the last half hour they flipped through a teen magazine. They sat side by side and Mistress Ann would read a sentence first, Sam would read it several times with Mistress Ann correcting his pronunciation, then she would translate for Sam.

After reading, Sam was introduced to French poems and children’s songs. “Singing is one of the best methods in the world to teach language and to help with your voice. Singing is ballet for the voice,” she said. “We will stretch your vocal cords so you can raise your voice to a soprano. Today we start with an icon, young Samantha; Frá¨re Jacque.”

By the time they were done with dolls, and reading and singing it was noon, and time for another meal. It was another smallish meal, but all of the “nibbling” left Samantha feeling satisfied. Sam handled the cooking and cleaning chores, while Mistress Ann instructed him through the routine step by step.

They had almost two hours until their next obligation, so Sam was told to return to his homework. At 2:30 Mistress Ann took Sam’s soft hand and walked him to Madame Longet’s where he tried on his new dresses. He was given a very wide selection of dresses; everything from a school uniform to frilly, petticoated dresses to maid uniforms. He must have tried on fifteen different dresses and Madame Longet had at least another ten already started.

“You did all of this since yesterday?” Sam asked in amazement.

“Heavens no,” Mistress Ann answered. “Madame Longet has been working on these for almost a month.”

“A month ma’am? But I only agreed to come here last week.”

Mistress Ann smiled and stroked Sam’s hair. “Maybe so, but I have been anticipating you for over a month now. Miss Maggie had a feeling about you long ago. I have been following your progress with much anticipation young Samantha.”

Sam felt awkward trying on the dresses. He felt that some of them were very girlish and juvenile. They had too much lace and frills and embroidery and petticoats and they made him look very childish and immature, (which was the intent of Mistress Ann). His short hair and lack of makeup and breasts didn’t help. Mistress Ann had said she wouldn’t humiliate him, but he felt … prissy wearing these dresses.

And to make matters worse, Mistress Ann was taking pictures of him as he tried on the dresses. “Big smile Samantha dear,” she would say as she used Madame Longet’s camera to take Sam’s picture. “These will be sent to Mistress Lisa so she can follow your progress.”

“Yuck,” he thought. “She’s going to think I look like a sissy. Can I look any worse than this?” Actually, by the time he reached “puberty” his hair would be longer and he would be wearing pig tails as well. And if not pigtails, he would have pretty pink bows and ribbons tied in his hair. Sam was going to feel much more sissified before his first semester came to a close.

Madame Longet kept several of the dresses for final adjustments, but she wrapped 8 outfits for Samantha and Mistress Ann to carry home with them. After leaving the shop Samantha realized that they had not paid. “Does Madame Longet just charge you, ma’am?”

“That’s correct Samantha.”

“Were these very expensive, ma’am?”

“Are you worried about the money?” she asked with a smile.

“No ma’am, of course not. I am just curious is all.”

“Yes, handmade dresses are very expensive. Each dress is probably around 1000 Euros.”

“That is expensive, ma’am.”

“But you deserve the best, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“There are a number of extenuating reasons for the high price. It’s not just Madame Longet’s labor and materials; we also have a local Guild tax.”

“Ma’am?”

“Our little community has some very expensive needs. The tunnels under the road that I mentioned yesterday, we paid for ourselves. Their knowledge is limited strictly to our Guild. And we must purchase special favors from certain politicians to keep our existence quiet. Plus we have some very expensive security requirements. All of those expenses are paid by our Guild. So as you can see, we need extra money to cover those items.”

“You have a Guild, ma’am?”

“Yes Samantha. Everyone involved in the business of transforming special boys such as yourself must belong to the Guild. Background checks are required of course, and proper training is needed. We have some very important boys here and we must take all precautions to make sure that their identity and safety are never compromised. Plus we must maintain the highest levels of quality and expertise. You and your fellow students are very valuable merchandise, Samantha.”

“What is the name of your Guild, ma’am?”

“It is a very old Guild Samantha dear, and the name is actually in Latin. It basically means matrons of boys to girls.”

“And you are a member, ma’am?”

“Of course. Everyone that works with our community must be a Guild member.”

“Do you have to pay the Guild Tax also, ma’am?”

“Certainly my dear, I pay the most.”

“The most? Why ma’am?”

“Because I am the best at what I do, so I make the most money. I do not work for the school, my little muffin. I am an independent. I take on one boy at a time and give him very special and individualized training. That type of training is much more expensive than the other boys receive.”

With a little pride in his voice Sam asked, “So you are the best?”

“But of course Samantha. You don’t think Mistress Lisa or Miss Maggie would let you settle for second best, do you?”

Sam grinned and agreed, “I am sure they wouldn’t, ma’am.”

When they reached home Sam put away most of his new clothes. It was time for tea, so Mistress Ann instructed him to change into a maid uniform. After tea it was time for studying. While Sam sat at his desk reading, Mistress Ann excused herself for a moment. She returned with a lap top computer that she sat on Sam’s desk. Sliding the memory card into the computer she then showed Sam the pictures that she had taken.

Sam’s worst fears were confirmed; he did look like a sissy boy. His short hair and no makeup made him look like a boy wearing a dress. He no longer looked like the beautiful Samantha he had once been. “What are you going to do with the pictures, ma’am?”

“I told you Samantha. Mistress Lisa has asked for weekly pictures to keep up with your transformation. I will send these to her. But I wanted you to see them also. I want you to see how pretty you look.”

“I look like a prissy boy, ma’am.”

“No you do not, Samantha. You look like a pretty young child. A female child or course.”

“I don’t feel like a female child, ma’am. With this short hair, and no make up and being flat-chested and all, I look like a boy. I can’t wait until I can grow my hair longer and start my hormones. I want to look like a real girl. I can’t wait until next semester when I can become a teenager and start wearing makeup.”

“How astute of you Samantha. You can’t wait to “grow up”. That is exactly what I want you to feel. That is what childhood is about. It is about the anticipation and yearning and eagerness to grow up and become a beautiful adult woman. Those are some of the strongest memories you will have. Anticipation is half the fun, although right now you might not think so. But the ability to practice with your hair and make up is one of the fun memories you will have. Playing dress up is something every little girl goes through and those are the memories that you will cherish.

“And of course going through puberty is another of those most cherished memories. Growing your breasts and trying on your first training bra is something you will never forget. These are the memories that will give you sustenance and strength throughout your adult life.”

Mistress Ann paused for affect and finished, “These are the things that will help you become a successful wife and concubine for Mistress Lisa.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sam responded.

Sam finished his study time, and since he was still in his maid uniform, Mistress Ann took him to the kitchen. Sam received another cooking lesson from Mistress Ann. At the dinner table Sam had some additional questions abut the Guild.

“Ma’am, you said that the Guild has to pay off politicians. Why?”

“My dear Samantha, for a little girl you have lots of questions. Why do you want to know about these complicated grown up things?”

Sam thought his mistress was talking down to him like a little boy, but then he realized the truth. He was supposed to be a little girl and she was merely playing the role. At least he thought that was the situation, so he decided to play along.

“Ma’am, when I grow up I want to become involved in politics, so I want to understand as much as possible about the grown up world.”

Mistress Ann obviously approved of Sam’s role playing and she showed it with a large smile and wink. “Of course, I understand, Samantha. Well you see my little girl, there are many things that the government has to do. The fire department has to inspect your commercial buildings to make sure they are safe from fire. And the building code people want to inspect your buildings to make sure they are safe from electrical and plumbing and building hazards. And the same goes for water and sewer and police. All of these people and departments are charged by law to make inspections and ensure the public safety. And this is especially important when you have a school filled with young children.

“Do you understand so far?”

“Yes ma’am. You don’t want these people coming into your school, do you?”

“Absolutely not young Samantha. You catch on very quickly. They might even find out about secret tunnels under the streets. But the most important reason is that the Guild can not take a chance on the bureaucrats finding out what our true mission is. The chances are not that high that a street worker might identify one of our little girls as the boy he really is. But we are charged with the safety and secrecy of our boys. Very rich and powerful people are depending upon us. So we can afford to take no chances at all.”

“So how do you keep them out, ma’am?”

“Bribes sweet Samantha; carefully placed bribes to high placed officials. And you must understand the difficulty of doing this, without raising too much suspicion. We can’t just walk up to the mayor and hand him money and then ask him to ignore our little business. We must be much more delicate than that.”

“Please ma’am, can you tell me how you do it. Someday I expect to be in situations like this, or at least I need to know how these things are done.”

Mistress Ann was puzzled with Sam’s curiosity. She knew much about the Hawthornes, but there was also much she was not privy too. For instance, Mistress Ann had no idea concerning Hawthorne activities in the political and lobbying arenas. And there was no way that she could be aware of Lisa’s presidential aspirations, or her intended use of Samantha as a public aide. But Miss Mona was training the boy in politics, so she decided to give him some information.

“Samantha honey, I cannot tell you too much. Our Guild survives on keeping our secrets. But I will give you an overview. These are delicate matters and one of the most important aspects is that you must allow all parties to plead ignorance if they must. To do that you must use an intermediary. A lawyer or clergy man acting as a go between allows both parties to disavow direct contact with each other. Politicians always need this excuse. You must do nothing in writing and money must be untraceable or appear to be perfectly legitimate.”

“Ma’am, I understand this is sensitive, but this is the type of business I will be involved in when I am older. Can you tell me a little more?”

Now Mistress Ann was surprised. “Samantha, you intend to do these things when you grow up? Really?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to play coy. “Yes ma’am. My reading and assignments from Miss Mona are to prepare me to enter the world of Washington politics.”

Mistress Ann hesitated for a moment, thinking about whom she was tutoring and who was sponsoring him. She knew Sam’s sponsors were rich and trust worthy. “Samantha my little boy, I share this with you because of Miss Maggie. She has vouched for you. But you must never tell another soul.”

“I will tell no one, ma’am. This is background information for me and me alone.”

“Several officials must be approached. And you must use a very legitimate messenger. We have a priest we can trust. Without giving away any information as to our true mission, he explains our ability to assure the safety of our very rich students. And he explains that if the official will trust him, he can arrange for a very large and very legal political donation to be made by a rich supporter. It sounds simple but the priest is an expert at manipulating people.”

“Thank you ma’am. I appreciate your explanation.”

After dinner Sam prepared for bed and then watched another movie in French with English subtitles.

CHAPTER 49

Wednesday’s activities followed the previous day’s until the afternoon. After lunch, they visited the doctor’s office. There were two doctors waiting for Sam. He knew Dr. Ratchet, but Dr. Bethune was new to Sam. “Dr. Bethune will be performing your plastic surgery,” Dr. Ratchet explained. “She is one of the foremost experts on feminization surgery. No one in the world has performed as many surgeries on teens as she has. Her expertise with young males is unmatched.”

The four of them went to a large examination room where Sam was told to remove all of his clothes. He was given another thorough examination where everything was measured.

“You’ve gained a little weight while you were in Paris,” Dr. Ratchet mentioned as she noted his weight on his chart.

“Don’t worry doctor, he’ll drop that weight in no time.” Mistress Ann interjected. “But might I ask your opinion on his optimum, or perhaps I should say his minimum waist size?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Miss Maggie thinks 26 inches should be his waist size. I think the boy can go down to 24 inches. He is rather petite and small boned. And I think there is still some fat on his waist. What is your opinion doctor?”

“He hasn’t started his hormones yet, so that should redistribute some fat. And I agree that the boy is a petite. But 24 inches …? I think it might be difficult.”

Mistress Ann would not give up. “But do you see a problem if we try?”

“No, not really.”

“Excellent. Then Samantha, we shall have Madame Longet prepare you a new corset as soon as she can.”

“Oh whoopee,” Sam thought to himself. Although he had grown accustomed to his current corset, he by no means liked the foundation. It was tight, hot, confining and limited his ability to bend over. Another two inches was going to be murder. But … he wanted to be a pretty girl. No pain, no gain.

Dr. Ratchet resumed Sam’s examination — and inspection. She was the lead doctor — at least it seemed to Sam — but Dr. Bethune could not keep her hands off him. She extensively palpated his nipples, chest, hips and buttocks. When Sam was seated in the gynecology chair, she spent several minutes examining his scrotum, testicles and penis. “May I milk the boy?” she asked Dr. Ratchet. “I want to check his prostate.”

“But of course. I shall collect the semen.”

Sam felt like a piece of liver as the two doctors handled and examined him. Dr. Bethune began stroking Sam’s prostate and soon had him ejaculating into Dr. Ratchet’s vial. When she had milked all of Sam’s semen from him, she stroked his penis to get the last precious drop out of him.

“Are you sure you are not going to have SRS, Samantha?”

“What?”

“Sexual reassignment surgery. You are the perfect candidate for it. I can give you exquisite sensitivity in your clitoris.”

“No ma’am. I am not doing that!”

“Pity my boy. You would be perfect. So be it, we have some other business to attend to. We need some 3D pictures of your face and chest.” Sam was given a robe and taken into another room with several dual-lens cameras. He was photographed from the waist up, front on and profile. Then additional pictures were taken of his face from a much closer distance.

Dr. Ratchet and Dr. Bethune talked about facial structures, and bones and sinuses and lips and cheeks and jaws and chins and on and on. They poked and felt his face and measured the size of everything.

After much discussion Dr. Bethune addressed Mistress Ann, “I think we have a consensus then. Next Friday we can perform his nose surgery, I will add cheek bone enhancement and I will give Samantha the most darling dimples you have ever seen. Dr. Ratchet do you concur?”

“I do.”

“Mistress Ann, what is your decision?”.

“I agree. I’ll inform the sponsor and if she changes anything I will let you know immediately.” No one asked Sam for his opinion

“Excellent then. I shall be off and Dr. Ratchet can give the boy his facial peel.” Dr. Bethune left and Dr. Ratchet took Sam back to their original examination room.

“This will be your second facial Samantha. Your skin looks very nice and so I am going to stay with the same concentration as last time. Next time we will increase your concentration. This level will leave you in good condition for your surgery next Friday. At this low concentration you will heal quickly. I will not be here, but rest assured Dr. Bethune is the best in the world. After surgery you will be sent home, and a nurse will accompany you. She will stay for the first three or four nights to make sure everything proceeds along acceptable levels. You will be a very pretty girl, Samantha.

“Do you have any questions?”

Sam had a question, but not about his surgery. “When can I start my hormone treatment?”

“That depends on your semen, Samantha. We need to collect a few more vials. If your semen is good and healthy, 3 or 4 weeks more I would say. If not, I might have to double that time.”

Sam was very quiet on their walk back home. Things were going to get more real for him. Surgery was a big step. And so was his hormone treatment. But that was too far away. Sam wanted to start now. He wanted to grow breasts so he could start wearing a bra again. He wanted to look like a real girl once more, not a dressed up boy. Sam was in a hurry to become all that he could be.

Mistress Ann had Sam in the swing of his new routine. Mornings rarely varied, but afternoons changed to accommodate various items. The 1:00 to 3:00 time slot handled trips to the dentist, the doctor, the beauty salon, the grocery and to Madame Longet’s. On Thursday Madame Longet gave Sam his first fitting for a new corset. God it was going to be tight! But Sam accepted it as necessary for his feminization. He wanted to be a beautiful girl, and he would do what Mistress Ann instructed.

Saturday the two of them had the ballet school to themselves. Mistress Ann kept Sam an extra hour to teach him a few new movements. In the afternoon Sam was dressed in a pretty — and frilly — dress and taken for a walk around the neighborhood. Mistress Ann held his hand as she took him through the courtyards and under the streets using the Guild tunnels. Sam saw the other boys out running and playing and enjoying the beautiful weather. Most of the boys were wearing their school uniform, although a few wore summer dresses and participated in less physical activities.

Sunday they went to church. “I understand you are not much of a church girl, Samantha.”

“No ma’am.”

“Well, we’re going mostly for the social side. You can ignore the church services. I want to show you off to the other boys. Perhaps you can meet and talk with a few of them. Mistress Ann put him in one of his nicest dresses, complete with knee socks and leg ribbons. She clipped a real flower in Sam’s hair and gave him short, lacy gloves to wear. As they were about to leave she handed him a tiny little purse with a short handle. “Pretty girls do need a purse at church,” she told him with a smile.

They walked to church hand in hand. When they arrived Mistress Ann greeted a few of the other matrons, and introduced Sam to some of the older boys. Sam was impressed with the other boys. They were wearing more age appropriate clothing, but they still wore very nice dresses. In turn, he felt silly being dressed in his “Lolita” dress. The boys also had on makeup. Sam would have killed to be wearing lipstick and mascara. They all had long hair and about half of them had it put up in a semi-formal style.

But most obvious, and painful to Sam, was the presence of breasts. All of the boys had boobs. They were all wearing bras — Sam could see their bra straps, and some of the boys were even exposing cleavage. They had beautiful and bountiful cleavage with clear, soft skin. Their voluptuous bosoms accented their narrow waists and large hips. Most of the boys had larger hips than Sam. But they all had curvaceous bodies, accented by breasts. Sam ached to have his breast forms and brassier back. He couldn’t wait to start growing his own breasts. He felt so inadequate next to these boys. Sam wanted to grow up and become a woman.

The boys were very friendly and chatty. They introduced themselves and asked Sam a few polite questions. They seemed very happy and bubbly in their Sunday clothes and enjoying the social atmosphere after church. Sam was invited to join them for ice cream and he was allowed to accept. Mistress Ann still held his hand and walked him to the ice cream shop. She gave him two Euros and allowed him to buy a treat. “We will work it off you tomorrow,” she told him with a mischievous grin.

The boys talked about many things, and Sam mostly listened. Much of the conversation was in French, but for his benefit they spoke half the time in English. He was surprised they didn’t ask him more about himself. But he would find out later that private lives, and families especially, were not topics of conversation. Mostly they talked about clothes and fashion. Makeup was popular. Movies and actresses and how they dressed for the award shows accounted for some of their conversation. They even talked a little about hormones and how they had different affects on the different boys. Hormones were probably the topic du jour for Sam. He was very interested in the boy’s comments about hormones, and he listened raptly.

Mistress Ann allowed Sam to socialize for almost an hour, then she walked him home. “You need to write to Mistress Lisa and tell her about your week. She wants a weekly update.”

“I don’t have my lap top, may I borrow yours, ma’am?” he asked.

“No computer, Samantha. You must write to her by hand. I know, it’s an old fashioned way to communicate, but it is romantic. Waiting for the post to bring you a letter has its thrills and anticipation Samantha. Plus, you need to practice your penmanship. I want you to work on small, clean strokes with a bit of flourish.” The other reason for no computer was to keep Sam from surfing the web. Mistress Ann did not want to take a chance on Sam finding out about Lisa’s upcoming marriage.

Mistress Ann handed Sam some pink note paper with Samantha embossed on the top. “I bought this for you a few weeks ago. I thought it would serve your needs. Now sit and write. Tell Mistress Lisa what you have been up to, and make sure to tell her you miss her.”

When Sam had finished, Mistress Ann showed him how to put just a tiny little drop of perfume on the letter before sealing it up in the envelope. “We mail it tomorrow and then you can wait for her reply. Trust me; getting a love letter through the mail is much more romantic than an e-mail. Plus you can keep your love letters forever. They make a precious keepsake.”

The following week Sam followed Mistress Ann’s routine. Monday and Thursday afternoon Sam was taken to the doctor’s office for his bi-weekly milking. Tuesday Sam received his new corset from Madame Longet. Damn was it tight! Mistress Ann couldn’t pull it completely tight. “Don’t worry honey, we will get that weight off you. And when you start your hormones, you will have just a wonderful figure.” Sam was already losing weight. Mistress Ann’s starvation diet, coupled with his ballet workouts was slowly removing the pounds from Sam’s petite frame.

When they finally reached Mistress Ann’s goal of 105 pounds, Sam thought he was too skinny, but Mistress reminded him that a girl “Can never be too thin or too rich”. Mistress Ann was always right about her boy’s figures. With hormones and surgery Sam would have a prefect body; soft, curvy, feminine and busty. And his two doctors would make sure he was pretty with perfect skin and a feminine face.

And Dr. Bethune did just that on the following Friday. Mistress Ann took Sam to the office at 9:00 sharp. Sam was prepped and in surgery by 10:00. By noon he was coming out of the anesthesia and receiving his first morphine shot. Surgery is always painful, no matter what people claim. And morphine is the pain reliever of choice. Sam’s nurse would keep him pain free through the weekend.

Sam was moved home later in the day and placed in bed. A nurse spent the weekend taking care of Sam. He was valuable chattel and needed the best of care. The nurse shared Mistress Ann’s bed and was able to give Sam the close attention that he needed. By Monday most of his pain was gone, but he was uncomfortable. His entire face was bandaged, he had two black eyes and he had to breathe through his mouth. That was the worst part, as his mouth became dry and extremely yucky.

On Monday the doctor made a call and changed the bandages. On Wednesday she returned and took off a few more bandages. On Thursday, bandages and all, Sam was at his ballet lesson and back in routine. By Friday much of the swelling was down and all of the bandages were removed. Sam could see ugly red marks around his nose, but it did look smaller. His cheek bones were higher and he could see his dimples. God he was going to be cute! Sam was going to be stunningly beautiful. He just knew it!

It took three weeks before the redness and swelling were completely gone. He had a cute little, up-turned nose, high cheeks, and dimples that deepened when he smiled. When Sam wanted to totally captivate someone, a smile with those dimples would be irresistible. Every time Sam looked in the mirror he was impressed with his own beauty. He was becoming just a little bit conceited. With make up and boobs Sam knew he would be the most beautiful girl imaginable. Now, if he could just get out of these stupid girly petticoats and start growing some tits!

And finally that day came. He went to the doctor for his regular milking and after she had finished milking his prostate Dr. Bethune said, “Samantha, I have some good news for you. We are done with your semen collection. Today you can start your hormones.” Sam flashed those beautiful dimples at Dr. Bethune as his smile showed his pure joy. “Finally!” he said to himself. “Now I can begin growing my new body. I’m going to have the body of a girl at last. Lisa is going to be so happy … and impressed.”

Things slowly changed for Sam as summer wore on. Life got even better. Now he knew that he was finally moving towards a more feminine appearance. He understood the need for weight loss and that god-awful corset. But now he worked even harder at his ballet lessons. He liked ballet. Everything was so graceful, slow and powerful. He felt that his legs were stronger and he knew his ankles, feet and toes were stronger. He felt more in control of his body. When Sam wanted to strut and throw a little more sway into his hips, when he wanted to use a runway walk or when he just wanted to skip or jump for joy he was so much more confident and comfortable doing it.

Sam knew he could use his body to move and exude the pure feminine joy that he was experiencing. No boy, or mistress, would be able to resist the new Sam; or to be more precise, Samantha. By late summer his breasts felt like they were finally responding to his hormones. His nipples were puffy and irritable. That is if a nipple can feel irritable. He just noticed them more. And he loved the sensation.

Sam was writing and receiving love letters from his mistress; sometimes two per week. Mistress Ann was right about writing letters. There was something about anticipating the arrival of the mail, of opening a perfumed letter and then sitting in a corner by himself and reading it three and four times; absorbing every word, every letter, and every curlicue of Lisa’s exquisite handwriting. She would praise his progress, thank him for the pictures (that Mistress Ann E-mailed), share her loneliness and tell him how horny she was. Lisa missed her courtesan and wanted oh so much to come visit him.

But first things first; Labor Day weekend was upon them and Lisa was getting married. Only halfheartedly, Lisa went through the process of organizing her marriage to Jeff Winter. She had her wedding gown and the bridesmaids had their gowns. Flowers, bands, cakes, caterers and the entire infrastructure of an expensive wedding had been chosen and planned. Harriet flew in from Switzerland and as maid of honor took Lisa and the girls out for Lisa’s bachelorette party. They went to the best clubs in New York City and drank the most expensive champagnes.

The relatives flew in from around the country and brought expensive gifts for the newly weds. The ceremony was held in a large cathedral and hundreds of guests arrived. The reception was held in an expensive hotel and the party lasted to well after midnight. And later that night Lisa and Jeff consummated their marriage. Once and only once they were truly a couple. And after fulfilling her wifely duty, Lisa left their wedding bed and went to the guest bedroom, where she cried until the sun rose in the east.

Lisa missed the love of her life. Next time she would do it right. Her “real” wedding would be small and private, and the reception would be more subdued. But the two brides would be beautiful beyond description, and their love would be boundless. And most importantly, their consummation would be glorious! Lisa would not be happy until that day.

After the summer, Sam began receiving visitors. Mistress Ann felt he was ready, so every so often one of his future in-laws was allowed to stop by. Harriet was the first. She took Sam to dinner in a local restaurant while Mistress Ann served as chaperone of course. And Sam was allowed to be Samantha for an evening. He was allowed one of those “dress-up” days that little girls love so much. He even wore a bra over his tender nipples. Samantha still looked flat, but “she” felt so much better. Yes, Samantha felt like a she once again. Sam the boy morphed into Samantha the girl and she truly enjoyed seeing Harriet again.

And Harriet enjoyed seeing Samantha. They were kindred spirits in more ways than one. They shared a common opinion on politics and that was their binding attraction. Harriet visited “young Samantha” seven times that fall. She was looking forward to “dating” Samantha the teenager after Christmas; they would have no chaperone then.

A week after Harriet’s first visit, Miss Maggie stopped by for a day. Sam savored the familiarity of her perfume as they shared a hug then faux kisses. Miss Grace and Miss Eunice came by in early October, and towards Halloween Gisela and Janice were in Paris for a few days. Sam loved seeing familiar faces and he talked non-stop about his experiences and travels. And he especially loved seeing Gisela. Gisela had been Mistress Ann’s favorite student, but Sam was now running a close second.

Mistress Ann would allow Sam to dress “older” on selected weekends and then take him to museums, zoos and sightseeing around the Paris area. Sam even went horseback riding one Sunday.

Sam still had to wash and set his hair every other night and he was getting used to wearing curlers to bed. The next morning he would remove his curlers and pull his hair into pigtails or a ponytail. Mistress Ann would give him pretty colored ribbons to tie his hair. The routine of curling his hair and then wearing pigtails made little sense, but Sam knew the reason; it was all part of his training.

As fall moved on, Sam’s hormones began taking affect and started changing his body. His breasts and nipples were growing, but Mistress Ann still confined him to only a training bra. Sam really wanted to wear a push up bra and show off his growing cleavage, but he was still a jeune fille in Mistress Ann’s eyes. She dressed him in frilly petticoats and knee socks and Mary Jane shoes. Only on the occasional “dress up” day was he allowed to wear thigh highs and heels.

Sam enjoyed his ballet lessons, they were probably the biggest surprise to Sam. Coming into his training he had never anticipated ballet, but now it was one of his favorite activities. His French was improving and so was his voice. Singing made all of the difference in the world. His poli sci lessons were progressing nicely and had moved from the old South to the new Washington. He was now learning something useful.

Sam was happy with his training, but all was not perfect. His new corset was still very tight even though he had dropped to his final weight. Mistress Ann assured him that as the hormones performed their magic, less fat would go to his waist and more to his hips and buttocks.

But what Sam really wanted was his own mistress. He wanted to see Lisa. And finally she arrived. Lisa flew to Paris for a 4 day weekend at Thanksgiving. Early on Thanksgiving Day Sam was dressed in his frilliest, laciest little girl dress when he heard the knock at the door. He dropped his magazine and sat up straight in his chair while Mistress Ann answered the door. She seemed to spend the longest time talking at the door before she brought Lisa into the parlor. Sam could barely restrain himself and he was bouncing on the sofa while he watched his magnificent mistress glide into the room.

Lisa was the most beautiful girl in the world. She was dressed demurely in a mid-calf skirt and cashmere sweater, but you couldn’t hide her figure and prominent breasts. God, Sam wanted breasts like that. She was wearing makeup, something that Sam was only allowed on special dress up days; but unfortunately today was not a dress up day. Mistress Ann wanted to present Lisa’s little girl.

“Please greet your mistress, Samantha.”

Sam stood as gracefully as possible and curtsied, “Hello Mistress Lisa.” Sam had a huge smile and he wanted to dart up to her and squeeze her in a tight hug.

“Hello Samantha,” Lisa answered politely. “My but don’t you look pretty. You are such a lovely little girl.”

Mistress Ann invited Lisa to sit next to Sam, but Lisa couldn’t wait to hold her cute courtesan boy. She daintily exchanged faux kisses with Sam then grabbed him in a bear hug. “So much for decorum,” Mistress Ann joked. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Sam and Lisa kissed and quickly had their tongues in each other’s mouth and down their throats. Lisa had her nails digging into Sam’s pretty tush and Sam had his arms over Lisa’s shoulders and around her neck. “I missed you so much,” Lisa said.

“Me too,” Sam replied, took another breath and continued kissing Lisa.

Mistress Ann returned from the kitchen and the two of them were still standing in the same place and still groping and hugging one another. “Why don’t you two go get a room?” she said.

“I think we should,” Lisa answered. “Mistress Ann, may we take our leave?”

“Yes you may. Samantha, your valet is by the door, right where you left it three hours ago.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m all ready Lisa.”

“Samantha!” Mistress Ann snapped. It was the loudest she had ever spoken to Sam. “Have I taught you nothing? You will address your mistress properly!”

“I am sorry,” he apologized. “I got caught up in the excitement of seeing my mistress. Mistress Lisa I am ready when you are.”

Lisa smiled and took Sam’s hand. “Come with me Samantha.” Sam picked up his valise at the door and they walked out to Lisa’s limousine. Andre was their chauffeur and he helped the two girls into the rear seat. They immediately snuggled and Lisa took Sam’s hand. “You are a sight for sore eyes, Samantha. You look so beautiful and feminine. I love your dimples. And you little nose is too die for. God, you’re cute!”

“Thank you. And I missed you too Lisa.”

Lisa quickly placed a finger over Sam’s lips and stopped him from speaking. “You must address me as Mistress Lisa. Please remember that.”

Sam looked like he was in shock. “Are you serious?” he thought. “I understand in public, but we’re lovers.”

Lisa could read Sam’s thoughts and she said, “Yes Samantha, you must be proper at all times. You agreed to this. I am your mistress now, and you are my courtesan. We must adhere to the rules. It won’t be so bad, you will get used to it.”

Sam was miffed. As happy as he was to see Lisa, some of his excitement was dampened. He hadn’t thought that she would really expect him to follow all this formality in private. Was he really going to be a second class citizen to her? In private? In bed too?

Lisa didn’t want Sam to pout in silence. “I can’t wait to get you back to the condo. I want to see how much your hormones have changed you. I love seeing your weekly pictures but I can’t wait to get my hands on the real McCoy,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

Sex. Now that was something that could get Sam’s mind off his moping. But Sam was nervous. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to perform up to Lisa’s … excuse me, Mistress Lisa’s expectations. He knew the hormones were going to affect his ability to produce sperm and have an orgasm, but he had not had one single opportunity to test drive the new equipment. Mistress Ann never let him out of her sight; even in the bathroom. And at night his bed squeaked so much that if he had even thought of masturbating Mistress Ann would have heard. So Sam was apprehensive.

“You know ma’am, things are going to be different in bed. I mean, I won’t be able to perform … to please you like a real man can.”

Lisa thought it was so cute the way Sam addressed her as ma’am. Damn she liked that! This is what she had dreamed about ever since she was a little girl. Total control over an epicene and feminized boy was her life-long dream, and here he was. Fantastic!

“Don’t worry about a thing Samantha. You will be perfect for me. You bring me such pleasure and pride when you are between my legs and orally stimulating me. You are the best cunnilinguist in the world.”

“That wasn’t what I was worried about, ma’am.”

“I know what you are worried about, but don’t be. You can still get an erection and that is all I need. I’ll do the rest my little filly. I know things have changed, but this is what we both wanted. No matter what happens, you will always be my silly filly,” and she kissed his soft lips.

When they reached the condo it took Lisa just seconds to pull Sam into her boudoir and begin stripping him naked. “I love the way you are dressed Samantha. This dress is just so cute on you. Do you enjoy petticoats and knees socks?”

“They’re ok, but I prefer nylons and heels. I can’t wait until I can start dressing as a teenager, ma’am.”

“I know you are in a hurry to grow up. You have told me countless times in your letters. I think you are cute dressed like this. But you’re even cuter when you’re naked,” and she slowly stripped off Sam’s dress and lingerie. She soon had him naked and standing in front of her. “Please show me all of you,” she said and circled her finger to indicate that she wanted Sam to spin around for her. “Oh my, you are looking good. I can’t believe that you have lost that weight and that you are now wearing a 24 inch corset. Your waist looks tiny … and so sexy. Are you really down to a size 8 dress?”

“That is what Madame Longet says, ma’am.”

“But I really like the look of these,” and she softly touched Sam’s nipples. He jerked very slightly as Lisa touched and caressed them. They were still sensitive for Sam. “You are coming along very nicely sweetie. I love the look and feel of your breasts and nipples. I can’t wait to get you into bed. But first …,” and she presented herself to Sam.

After Sam had stripped his mistress and caressed her entire body, she took his hand and pulled him to the vanity. “You must wear lipstick for me, Samantha. You look so much sexier with those pouty red lips of yours.”

“I know ma’am. I want to wear makeup but Mistress Ann won’t let me.”

“She doesn’t want you to grow up too fast Samantha.” While Sam applied his lipstick, Lisa prepared their bed. She propped up her pillows and sat against them, spreading her legs and waiting for Sam. By the time Sam reached her there was already a large wet spot on the bed. Sam nestled between his mistress’s legs and slid his hands under her ass and gave her a soft squeeze. “Remember Samantha, just the way you used to do it; soft and slow. Be my lesbian filly.”

Sam had not forgotten anything, and he was very soft and tender as he placed a soft kiss on Lisa’s quivering cunt. His tongue slowly parted her labia and he tickled her clit with the most exquisite care and attention. With just one little touch Lisa’s back arched and she screamed in delight, squirting Sam’s face with her fragrant juices. Sam helped her by tightly squeezing her ass and helping her lift off the bed.

“Did you miss me?” he asked facetiously.

Lisa was in nirvana and didn’t even bother to reprimand his lack of respect. When she was in the throes of orgasmic delight, she could forgive Sam for not addressing her properly. He could call her ma’am after their sex.

And Sam caught on immediately. “Thank god she isn’t going to treat me as her handmaiden when we’re having sex,” he thought.

Lisa was all too eager to have another go at ecstasy, and Sam was all too happy to oblige. He loved being between Lisa’s legs, enjoying her femininity and raw sex. No amount of hormones was going to dampen his excitement and pleasure when he was kissing and fondling Lisa’s quim. Sam brought his mistress to three orgasms before she was satisfied.

Lisa looked into Sam’s eyes as she gently kissed his delicious lips. Lisa also liked the taste of lipstick; especially when it came from the lips of her favorite boy. Sam laid back and enjoyed the attention of his favorite girl. Lisa moved down to Sam’s nipples and gently tongued them. Sam’s nipples immediately responded with a shiver and hardened. Lisa gently gripped his opposite breast as she suckled on his aroused nipple. Sam was in heaven. His breasts were still sensitive, but he had never felt such an exquisite pleasure in his breasts. Lisa’s caressing was not going to bring Sam to an orgasm, but the new and wonderful feeling in his nipples and breasts drove away any remaining doubts that he might have had concerning his use of hormones. Sam loved his feminine body and new sensations.

Lisa could wait no longer and she threw a leg across Sam’s stomach and slid down his thin waist and expanded hips. Sam’s lower torso felt different to Lisa. Sam was wider where he should be wide (in his hips) and narrower where he should be narrow (his waist). Lisa’s legs and thighs just seemed to fit her boy better than they ever had. Sam’s new proportions were perfect for his epicene body.

Sam’s erect penis looked smaller than before as it lay on his soft skin. Lisa noticed how much softer his skin was and she caressed his stomach as slid her hand to his cock. She took it in her hand and gently stroked it before sliding it into her wet pussy. Oh god, it felt good going in and Lisa immediately began squeezing, sliding and rocking up and down, in and out with Sam’s remaining masculinity.

Sam also enjoyed his lover’s attention, and while everything was exquisite, he felt slow; slow to respond to Lisa’s attention. She reached orgasm long before he was ready. Lying on top of her toy she gave Sam a little kiss. “I love your lips. Did you cum?”

“No,” he answered quietly.

“Don’t worry lover, you were wonderful for me. So wonderful that we shall give you another chance.” She did a push up to apply more pressure to Sam’s entrapped cock and again she slowly began stroking Sam’s penis. Sam helped along and after a few minutes he too came to climax. Only it wasn’t what he remembered. His orgasm was “less” than what he remembered. It wasn’t nearly as intense as it used to be. But Sam was satisfied. He was going to be a girl and he knew the sacrifices. Besides, his nipples had felt wonderful under Lisa’s fondling. Yes, Sam was satisfied with his new body and life.

After a short nap Lisa suggested a shower. Sam readily accepted. While fondling one another under the excuse of toweling off, Lisa suggested a trip to the Eiffel Tower.
“I would love to,” Sam said. “But I don’t feel comfortable in my dress. I think I look too young and silly. I won’t look nearly pretty enough for my mistress,” he claimed. Sam was playing to Lisa’s vanity. “What kind of arm-candy looks like a little girl in pigtails?”

“Not a problem my pretty filly, you still have all of your clothes here.”

“Really?” he said with a big smile.

“Yes. But I wonder how well they will fit you. You have … improved since you last wore them. We may have to go shopping!”

“Darn!”

“Darn, ma’am,” Lisa reminded him.

“What about my hair, mistress?”

“Leave it down, it’s long enough now. It will give you that sultry look.”

“I like the sultry look, ma’am.”

Sam went crazy buying bras for his new breasts. They certainly deserved more than the silly training bra Mistress Ann was forcing him to wear. He found some wonderful push up bras that gave his tiny breasts real cleavage. He bought a dozen bras including strapless, red, purple, silk, lacy and push ups. The only thing he didn’t buy was a minimizer.

And then they went dress shopping. Most size 8 dresses fit him, and he even fit into some 6 sizes. Lisa was jealous of her beautiful boy, but proud. Sam did indeed make beautiful arm candy for his mistress. Sam found several dresses, but he particularly liked one red dress that he wore to dinner and then to the clubs that night. Sam liked red. Sam sizzled!

And so did their vacation. They had the best Thanksgiving of their lives.

CHAPTER 50

At the urging of Sam’s sponsor, Mistress Ann promoted Sam one month early. December first he “officially” became a teen ager. Sam the teenager was allowed to show off his breasts and dress like a 16 year old girl. That was still a little young for Sam’s wishes, but much better than a 10 year old. He was allowed to wear real bras once again. His training bras were better than nothing, but not much. Sam loved wearing a bra and he felt so much better, so much more “real” and feminine when his little girls were strapped in and cuddled by soft satin. His girls actually purred once they were in their proper environment.

Fashions in Paris that winter featured calf-high boots with stiletto heels and nylons. The look was often coupled with short dresses — not minis — and provided a sexy look that Sam really liked. He was allowed more latitude in his clothing; dresses, skirts, blouses and sweaters. Cashmere sweaters in winter were awesome. Sam’s hair was longer and he still wore curlers to bed every other night. But now he could do something with those curls. He was learning to style his hair and he tried and enjoyed different looks. And he didn’t have to wear little girl ribbons or barrettes in his hair either.

He also enjoyed different looks with his makeup. After his morning ballet lesson, Mistress Ann had him working the remainder of the morning in a beauty salon. When he arrived each morning, the stylists were allowed to experiment with Sam’s hair and makeup. Mistress Ann wanted Sam to broaden his make over experience and not fall into a rut. So some days his hair was up and other days down. Some days his hair was curly and some times straight. And his makeup went from daytime demure to evening sultry.

And once a month, just for old time sake he wore Goth. The beauticians were very good at teaching him new ideas, and Sam avidly absorbed them.

Sam would work behind the girls, watching how they cared for hair and created becoming styles. Sam learned how to wash and set, hi-light, cut color and perm hair. He was given first hand experience with waxing, manicures and pedicures. He learned many details he would later use when caring for his mistress.

Dr. Ratchet continued to show up and give him his facial peels. She was an experimenter, and had decided to change Sam’s routine. She wanted to stretch out his sessions for three years and remain at low TCA levels. The time between sessions was stretched from 8 to 12 weeks and the number of sessions from 6 to 12 sessions. His facials would continue well after the conclusion of his training with Mistress Ann. The doctor felt this would provide Sam with soft, blemish free skin for many, many years.

On weekends Mistress Ann took her young apprentice traveling. Sam’s French was improving and he was able to appreciate contact with more people. So they traveled around France and even went to Amsterdam and Berlin for long three day weekends. And even more interesting, Samantha had a regular caller on weekends at home.

Harriet and Sam were becoming very good friends. Harriet was allowed to take Sam on “dates”. What that really meant was that Mistress Ann did not accompany them. But she did set a curfew of midnight. The curfew did not stop them having fun. Harriet usually took Sam to dinner and sometimes to a club or movie or just a coffee shop to talk. They had much in common in their philosophy of politics and life. They both enjoyed their female status and femininity. And they talked about the future and what they could accomplish in the world of politics. Both girls had idealistic views and big intentions. They wanted to change the world — for the better, not the money.

And they liked each other’s femininity. To put it crudely, Harriet and Sam had sex together. Sam refused the first time. He wanted to, especially his hormones, but he felt too much conflict. Harriet accepted his decision and didn’t force him. But the second time she invoked her Hawthorne privileges to help assuage Sam’s conscience. Sam conceded and carried out his responsibility by giving Harriet his very best effort. As their friendship and “dating” continued their trysts became more mutual.

Sam felt guilt at “cheating” on Lisa, but he was conflicted. Since July he had seen Lisa only twice; once at Thanksgiving and again at Christmas. Sam was lonely. Sam loved Lisa and he struggled with himself whenever he had sex with Harriet. But the ground rules had been set by Lisa and he had to accept Harriet’s demands. He wanted to write to Lisa and tell her about the sex, but he didn’t know how. He was beginning to like Harriet and he enjoyed being with her. He was lonely and Harriet was here with him. He didn’t like cheating on his fiancée, and no matter how many times Harriet reminded him of the rules he couldn’t shake his conflicted feelings. But Sam was lonely and Harriet was a warm and friendly body. Sam felt like a quiff.

Lisa was coming to visit him on her Spring break and Sam was very excited. He decided that he just had to stop “dating” Harriet. But he didn’t want to lose her friendship either. Not only were they now good friends, but Sam expected Harriet to be an ally when Lisa began moving into politics; and he meant his ally, not Lisa’s. So two weeks before Lisa arrived he tried to break off their affair. Harriet was unhappy at first, but Sam was able to convince her to see reason. And he did it without turning her against him. Harriet was smart and she realized that they were playing with fire. If Miss Mona found out about their trysts, Harriet would be in big-time trouble. Lust often takes foolish chances, but both of them finally saw reason and stopped their sex. After Lisa departed they continued to see one another, but their visits were further apart and their relationship stayed platonic.

One of the extenuating reasons for Sam’s and Harriet’s sexual liaisons had to do with another change in Sam’s schedule. After returning from the salon each day, he changed into his maid uniform and prepared lunch for Mistress Ann and himself. Then, three days a week he removed his maid uniform and had sex education. He often practiced his lessons with Harriet. Harriet was far and away the best sex teacher he ever had. Not only did Sam enjoy sex with Harriet, but she taught him things far beyond his “formal” education.

Mistress Ann began by giving Sam books on sex. Some of his sex education was academic, but he also had practical studies and “labs” as well. Sam’s sponsors had made it clear that Sam was not allowed to be with a genetic girl unless absolutely necessary. So Sam was taught first hand by two transsexuals.

Sam’s sex education began with massage. His teachers first demonstrated on him, and then he returned the favor. Oils, flavors and special “spices” were added to the mix. Whipped cream was messy, sticky and delicious. So was chocolate syrup. Sam learned the finer art of correct “placement” of additives. Sam thought it was fun and frivolous, but Mistress Ann reminded him that like religion, there is nothing frivolous about sex. It invariably involves egos and attachment; the latter being the most powerful and dangerous.

Sam’s teachers taught him flirting and seduction. Sam saw great use in the flirting, and he pushed for advanced techniques and suggestions. He could see it being very useful in his political work. Seduction was more dangerous and he wondered if he would need to use it in the political world, but he would definitely use some of his education on Lisa and her family; especially when he needed special favors or capitulation on certain political policies.

After learning massage and other precursors to sex, Sam’s education became more … personal. With Mistress Ann watching and directing, Sam had sex with his teachers. He learned the Kama Sutra positions and practiced each one. He was taught to be submissive in the bedroom and to surrender to all demands placed upon him; no matter his personal desires and preferences.

Sam was introduced to some bondage and S&M sex. These lessons were superficial and introductory only. Sam learned about the use of safe words and that was the most important item for him to know. But he found everything distasteful. He prayed that none of his future in-laws would lean in these directions.

Only twice in all of his training was he with a real girl. Mistress Ann brought in a pretty girl to teach Sam cunnilingus. She took her position on the bed and began talking Sam through the basics. However she was soon screaming in delight as she found out how experienced and talented Sam was. She told Mistress Ann afterwards that never had she been so pleasured by a boy or girl. She lavished extensive praise on Sam.

That was his first time with a female instructor.

The second time Mistress Ann broke a golden rule; never have sex with a student. Mistress Ann had to see for herself how talented Sam truly was. One evening she invited Sam to her bed and instructed him to go down on her. Sam knew nothing about her rule and found no trouble in accepting her instructions. Deep down inside he thought she was too old for this type of thing, but that was the thinking of a 19 year old boy. What did he know about older women? What he did know was that she had a firm and supple body. He had been dressing and bathing her for a year, and in more than one fantasy dream he had shared his body with her. It was a natural fantasy — his Oedipal fantasy.

Mistress Ann went to sleep with a smile on her face. The boy was talented — no doubts there!

The Samantha Project - Conclusion

Author:

G.L. Hudson

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Femdom / Humiliation

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. In the conclusion to our story, both Lisa and Samantha achieve everything they each want. And Samantha and Miss Mona stand toe-to-toe and “discuss” their relationship. Who will blink first?

Femdom, crossdressing,

The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson

CHAPTER 51

Sam’s third and final semester began on June 1. After Sam’s morning ballet lesson, he was given a hospital uniform. It was white, had a short skirt, comfortable white walking shoes and a cute little hat. Mistress Ann walked him 5 blocks to a neighborhood hospital where he met with the HR director. She handed him some forms to fill out, which Mistress Ann immediately took. She quickly filled out the forms and handed them back to the director.

“Wait here. Someone will come collect you,” he was told in French. Sam understood perfectly.

“I can not come with you young Samantha. You are on your own. I will be here at noon to pick you up. Enjoy your day. Learn how to take care of babies. Enjoy them Samantha, they are a wonderful miracle.”

Sam was now a mature woman in her early twenties. When not at ballet, the hospital or in a maid uniform, Sam was expected to dress his age. He could still wear short skirts, just not mini-skirts. His boots were traded in for 3 and 4” heels, which Sam loved. His shoulder length hair required daily styling — nothing elaborate but no ponytails or simple buns. He was required to wear makeup, but it had to be subdued compared to his teen years; no bright blue eye shadow or orange fingernail polish. His corset now laced tight. He was down to the 24 inch waist that Mistress Ann had wanted. It was still tight for Sam and he still despised it, but he had made it down to a sexy narrow waist.

Sam’s favorite item of clothing was his brassiere, which he loved because it supported his two favorite attributes. Sam loved his “medium” girls. They were no longer little, but they weren’t exactly big. He had passed through AAA to AA to A and now he was getting close to a legitimate B cup. Sam adored having real breasts; the feel and weight and movement was exquisite. Nothing said girl more than real breasts. And he loved nothing better than snuggling them into the sensuous comfort of a push up bra, and squeezing them into some nice cleavage that he could show off with a low neckline blouse or dress.

Sam was done with his sex education and he was relieved. Without Lisa, sex was just another daily activity.

So Sam moved into the summer as a young lady training to become a nanny. After a month at the hospital, Mistress Ann began finding him baby sitting jobs. On Friday and Saturday nights he often found himself in charge of young children. He fed them, bathed them, dressed them in pajamas and put them to bed. He even changed diapers — he was quite good at it.

After his first job, he came home with 25 Euros. “What should I do with the money?” he asked his Mistress.

“Spend it,” she told him.

“On what?”

“On your self,” she answered.

“Really? Like on what?” Sam had had no money for over a year now, and he didn’t need it. Lisa used to buy everything for him, and now Mistress Ann had been doing the same.

Mistress Ann was confused on her part. Everyone likes to spend money on herself. She wasn’t aware of Sam’s situation with Lisa and the plan to make him dependent on Lisa for everything; including money. So she answered, “Feminine hygiene products. Maybe it is time to begin wearing tampons.”

Sam didn’t like that suggestion and he quickly retorted, “Lipstick. Can I spend it on lipstick?”

Mistress Ann merely laughed at her boy.

As the summer moved on, Sam actually served as a nanny to two infants while he and the parents went on vacation to southern France. Sam was required to tend to all of the babies needs while the mother and father went sight seeing and dining. Sam changed diapers, bottle fed the children, dressed and undressed them, pushed them around in a stroller and allowed the parents a vacation free from the stress of baby care. And Sam saw a bit more of France.

Sam went on two holidays as a nanny. It wasn’t easy work, and he realized that child rearing was going to be 24/7 for years with his own children. But he understood that this would be expected of him; it would be his life as mother to the children he would father. It sounded strange, and was difficult to justify pronouns and keep them correct all the time, but it was what he had signed up for.

Was Sam a boy or a girl? Sam was a boy, and Samantha was a girl. The difficult part was separating the two at times. But more and more Sam considered himself to be Samantha. He lived twenty four hours a day as a girl. He dressed like a girl. He wore makeup and a brassier like a girl. He even sat down to pee like a girl.

Sam only surfaced when Lisa visited and wanted sex from him. But even then he was Samantha; Lisa’s silly filly. When Mistress Ann or Mistress Lisa called him boy, he felt odd. He wished they would refer to him as a girl — only a girl. But he knew who and what he was and he accepted it all. Sam was happy to be Samantha the part time boy, or as Lisa sometimes called him, “her epicene boy”.

After August the vacation period in Europe began to disappear. Sam still did some baby sitting, but no more traveling or au pair work. Instead, his Saturday nights became date night. He would spend the day at the beauty salon having his nails filed, his legs waxed and his hair washed and set. Then Mistress Ann would take him home and together they would dress Samantha for her date. Beautiful makeup and sexy dresses were the call for the evening.

At first, Sam would also dress Mistress Ann. She was Sam’s date for the first month. She took him to upscale restaurants (he had to work extra hard on Monday at ballet to lose his weight) and then to the opera or concert. Sam/Samantha was trained to be comfortable dressed in long fancy dresses with low necklines and lots of cleavage. He was tutored to look fantastic at a meal, while knowing all the proper protocols and etiquette. Mistress Ann mentored him on being witty and pretty and clever. She gave him tips on flirting with his date and making her feel important and clever herself. Sam was taught to make physical contact and how much was too much and when and where to touch his date. And he was taught how much reciprocal contact was acceptable. With his Mistress Lisa there would be no limits of course.

After several dates with Mistress Ann, Sam was sent out with a total stranger; at least a stranger to him. Mistress Ann used the parents of other students; volunteers to help with a young boy’s social training. He started by dating women; mothers of the other students. Their dates were much like his Mistress Ann dates, but some tested the boy. They became too close and too “friendly” and tried to move faster than decorum allowed. Sam was trained for these situations, and he was critiqued when he arrived home.

And then Sam moved onto men. The men would take him to dinner and a show and would hold his hand and look into his eyes and flirt. Sam would return the flirting — just enough to please the man’s ego, but not too much to arouse him to unwanted levels. Practice, practice, practice. Sam spent the majority of the fall going on dates.

Mistress Ann attended only one or two dates of his first dates, then sent him out on his own. Sam always had a body guard around, but he didn’t know who it was; he never saw Andre. Just in case one of the parents — and it usually turned out to be the women more often than the men — decided to push a little too far, Sam knew all he had to do was place his left hand on his right shoulder and wait for help. Fortunately that was never required. Mistress Ann had trained him well in the various techniques to “cool off” a date.

Sam’s dating was one of his favorite times during his mentoring by Mistress Ann. (He also loved his ballet.) He learned to flirt, which was one of Sam’s top priorities. He wanted to know how to control men for his future as a campaign manager. He knew the ability to flirt would be invaluable and he wanted to make sure he learned as much as he could. But flirting was never going to be a problem for Sam. With Samantha’s looks, her cleavage, tiny waist, cute nose and dimples, she would have no problem controlling men. All Sam would have to do is slip into Samantha mode, smile and men would melt before his eyes. It was inevitable. It was preordained. It was fun to watch.

And Sam also enjoyed the company and conversation. He was the center of attention, and his date would spend the evening talking and laughing with him, and trying to influence him. He saw some nice shows (collected more ticket stubs for his scrap book), picked up some wonderful fashion ideas from other women and perfected his small talk. Most of the parents were curious about Sam and how wonderful a girl he made. They were often looking at Sam but seeing their own boy. Once in a while Sam would have to bring them back to the present, as they would ramble off, talking about their own son.

Through his entire time with Mistress Ann, Miss Mona never forgot about him. She sent him numerous books to read and study. After giving him a full dose of her favorite dogma, she sent him books from the other side. “Know thy enemy,” she wrote to him. Sam read political articles by Mark Twain, Will Rogers and Art Buchwald. He read the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, Mein Kampf and the Communist Manifesto. He read books from some of the most liberal thinkers in America. Miss Ann gave Sam a thorough history lesson on politics influencing the twenty first century of America.

She had her secretary cut out editorials from the Washington Post, New York Times and various magazines. Sophie was constantly mailing articles to Sam, even after he left Paris and returned to America. After his graduation, Lisa and Samantha set up housekeeping and began making babies. Samantha stayed home and took care of the children with the exception of Fridays. On Fridays Samantha went to work with Miss Mona. She was given a desk in Miss Mona’s office and she spent every Friday shadowing Miss Mona. When Lisa was finished with her pregnancies and public service she would begin her run for her first elected office. And Samantha was going to be ready.

As summer turned to fall and the leaves began changing color, Mistress Ann sat down her protégé one evening. “Your time with me is almost up, Samantha. Are you looking forward to leaving and going home with Mistress Lisa?”

“Yes ma’am, very much so.”

“Have you been happy here, Samantha?”

“Yes ma’am. I have learned tons and tons and I enjoyed being with you. You were a wonderful mentor.”

“Were there parts that you didn’t like?”

“Yes ma’am. I know I needed to learn about sex, and I greatly appreciate my training. But I must confess that I don’t like having sex with other boys. Even as a girl Samantha prefers girls.”

“Understandable,” Mistress Ann smiled. “We have a little time left, is there anything else you would like to know?”

Sam thought for several minutes and said, “How do I succeed in life? How do I make my mistress happy? How do I make myself happy?”

Mistress chuckled. “Heavy questions Samantha dear; very heavy. I do not know how you ensure your happiness. Life is full of problems, disappointments, surprises and enjoyment. The only thing I can say is be honest and true to yourself. It doesn’t help to swallow stress and disappointment and bottle it up inside. Tell your mistress when you are unhappy and see if she can help you.

“And how do you make your mistress happy, that is simple. Do whatever she asks, do it to the best of your ability and smile. If you enjoy your service to your mistress, I think you will please both of you.”

“Yes ma’am. I once asked Gisela what she did. I was actually asking what she did for a living. Her answer was, “Whatever Miss Janice tells me to do.” At the time I did not know about concubines and I didn’t know she was a boy. I thought it was a very strange answer, but now I understand. When someone asks me the same question, I shall answer the same way.”

“Gisela was my favorite student, but I now have two. You are a very beautiful boy Samantha. You will have no problem passing as a beautiful girl. You have a wonderful voice, the grace of a ballerina and the beauty of a goddess. Did you ever think you would have a 24 inch waist?”

“Yes ma’am. When you told me that was your target, I knew you would get me there. I had the utmost faith in you. After all, I had the best teacher in the Guild.”

Mistress Ann smiled. “Were there things that you liked more than others?”

“Ballet! I really enjoyed ballet, ma’am. It was the perfect thing to help me improve my grace and balance. I hope to try and keep up with it when I go back home. I shall make sure that my children learn ballet.”

“That is the nice thing about ballet. You don’t have to go to a dance studio to practice the important things.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Well Samantha, if you think of something else that you want, we still have a few weeks left.”

“There is one more thing, ma’am. I know this sounds selfish, but I am thinking of my mistress’s best interests. She wants me to be her campaign manager and I am sure there will be times that we will disagree on a specific strategy. I know I should always do what she instructs, but there might be times I really, truly know a better solution. How do I convince her to do what I want?”

“Samantha, putting your mistress’s best interests ahead of her instructions is not always bad. But remember, she is your mistress, not the other way around.”

“Yes ma’am, always.”

“But if you are sure about what needs to be done, simply tell her and explain your thoughts.”

“Yes ma’am. And …?”

“Then be a girl, Samantha. Use your dimples and smile and bright eyes. Smile for her. Give her a pouty look, but never pout over one of her decisions. That is not your right. But give her a reason to believe you. When all else fails, use your sex. You are a sexy boy, Samantha.”

“Thank you ma’am. I shall only do it when I feel very strongly about something and I know it is in her best interests.”

“I know you will, Samantha. Come, let’s go to bed.”

CHAPTER 52

Lisa did not visit her courtesan that fall. She was in a hurry to finish her masters degree. In December she graduated with honors. She put on her cap and gown and strolled across the stage to receive her diploma. Many pictures were taken for her future (political) needs. After the ceremony Miss Maggie took additional pictures of Miss Lisa posing with her “husband”, Jeff Winters. And as soon as those pictures were taken, Lisa was gone. She rushed to the airport and flew across the pond to Paris and her fiancé.

At Samantha’s pleading, Mistress Ann arranged their reunion in a special format. Samantha spent the morning primping and posing and preparing to meet her mistress. By the time Lisa arrived, Samantha was ready. She was standing in the parlor with her most demure and sexy pose. Her hair was hanging in long curls of high-lighted auburn color. Her dress was low cut, with a biased hem to show off her home grown cleavage and her beautiful legs. Samantha had SEXY legs! The dress was ruched around the waist and showed off her tiny 24 inch waist and by comparison ample hips.

Samantha was wearing square hoop earrings and a gold necklace that presented a diamond pendant prominently nestled between her B-girls. Her makeup was seductive with shiny lip gloss over her red, pouty, collagen enhanced lips. She had lash extensions that were coated in black mascara and surrounded by dark lids and highly curved eyebrows.

When Mistress Ann brought Lisa into the parlor, Samantha flashed a huge smile of pearly white teeth, surrounded by wet, red lipstick and framed by the cutest dimples imaginable. Then Samantha tilted her head down, and looked up at her mistress through those sexy lashes of hers.

Lisa had played this game before. “Oh my!” she whispered. She walked around her courtesan, inspecting her from her 4 inch heels to the top of her shiny hair. Lisa took a lock of that beautiful hair and wrapped it around her finger as once again she whispered, “Oh my!” Lisa made two laps around the beautiful Samantha and brought forth a little giggle from her lips. Finally, Lisa stopped in front of her property. With one finger she lifted Samantha’s chin so they could look one another in the eye. “My god you are the most beautiful boy in the world, Samantha.” Lisa continued to hold Samantha’s chin as she leaned into her boy and gave him a soft, careful kiss. “I can’t wait to ravage you,” she giggled. Samantha giggled also.

“I’ll have the chauffeur return for his things later. Thank you Mistress Ann. You have delivered the most beautiful boy in the world. He is as magnificent as Maggie said he would be.” Lisa took Samantha’s hand and placed it around her arm. “Let’s go Samantha.”

“Yes mistress.” Samantha smiled and picked up a package of her carefully wrapped love letters from Lisa. Samantha winked at Mistress Ann as she walked out on the arm of her true mistress. She gave her hips a little extra wiggle as her goodbye to her mentor.

As soon as they were in the car, Lisa leaned over and gave her beautiful courtesan a light buss. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

Samantha smiled and flashed her dimples at Lisa. “Are we going to the airport, mistress?”

“Well, I was thinking about a little vacation for you. When I graduated I was given three weeks in Paris with my favorite boy. Would you be interested in a little vacation with me?”

“I would love to have a vacation with you, mistress.”

“How about a week in Paris?”

“A week in Paris at Christmas would be heavenly, Miss Lisa. I would like that very much.”

“And after that how about some warm weather?”

“Oh yes ma’am.”

“Would you mind if I take you to Tahiti for a couple of weeks?”

“Really? Oh yes, yes. I would go anywhere with you Miss Lisa, but Tahiti sounds especially nice.”

Lisa smiled at Samantha’s enthusiasm and her impeccable manners. She was not only beautiful, but well trained. “Miss Eunice has a boat anchored there. She has already sent her crew out to prep it, and they are expecting us for two weeks of sailing. They’re making sure everything is in tip-top shape and the galley is well stocked.

“I can’t wait to see you in your bikini.”

“I can’t wait to show it to you, my mistress. But I want to see you in yours too. You are so sexy I may not be able to stop myself from continuously begging you for … hee hee hee … favors.”

“I love giving favors to such a pretty boy, Samantha.” Lisa slid her hand up Samantha’s leg and stroked the inside of her thigh as she leaned over for one more kiss. Samantha shivered at the soft touch of Lisa’s hand. It felt so perfect.

Paris at Christmas is magical. And it seemed that all the world was cooperating. Each night a light dusting of snow left a sparkling, white cover on Paris. It wasn’t enough snow to affect traffic, but it gave the city a perfect ambiance. Since it was winter, and since the girls loved to shop, it was only natural that they found their way to a furrier. Samantha begged for a full length mink coat, and Lisa couldn’t help but indulge her sexy boy.

Samantha loved the coat and did everything she could that evening to show her mistress her deepest appreciation. Samantha loved her new coat so much, that she begged for a second one. “Why would you need two fur coats?” Lisa teased her.

“One brown and one white, Miss Lisa. I could match colors so much better … and I would look much prettier on my mistress’s arm.” Samantha gave Lisa her best pout as she begged with her eyes. How could Lisa resist those beautiful eyes and the promise of her devotion? Samantha was learning to manipulate her mistress. She loved the sensation.

The coats remained on the company jet and returned home after the two girls were safely delivered to Tahiti. Miss Eunice had an all “girl” crew already in place and the boat was spic and span.

“Ma’am, do you have any instructions on where you would like to go?” the captain asked.

“I understand Miss Eunice made some recommendations?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Then I see no reason to vary the itinerary … yet. Proceed captain.”

The crew was typical of girls from Maggie’s harem. They were all a bit over average height, thin with slim waists and large breasts. They had perfect skin, small noses and plump lips. They wore skimpy uniforms with mini skirts and tight tops. Miss Eunice liked to have her crew looking … enticing.

But Lisa and Samantha had no need of the crew’s attention. They had one another. As soon as they were on the boat, Lisa had the two of them in her private cabin. “It’s time for bikinis Samantha.”

“Yes ma’am!” and she quickly but erotically removed Lisa’s traveling clothes. Lisa returned the favor and they soon found themselves in each other’s arms. Lisa wrapped her arms around Samantha’s waist and marveled at how easily she could reach completely around that tiny waist and dig her nails into Samantha’s plump derriere. Her skin felt smooth and soft to Lisa’s touch. She pressed against Samantha’s breasts and felt their contour against her girls. Lisa stepped closer and shoved her labia against Samantha’s soft and flaccid penis. Samantha felt and looked so feminine, yet when Lisa saw her penis she immediately thought of her as an effeminate and epicene boy. Girl above, boy below; what a wicked and wonderful combination!

“Ma’am, is there anything I may do for you?” Samantha asked. Her intentions were perfectly transparent.

Lisa needed no coaxing. She gently pinched one of Samantha’s nipples and then massaged her full breast. “Do you like your new breasts, Samantha?”

“I adore them mistress. I simply love them.”

“Are they big enough for you?”

“Ma’am, it doesn’t matter what I think; it’s what you think that is important. Are they big enough for you?”

“What size are you now?”

“I’m almost a B cup, ma’am.”

“I’m a C,” Lisa said.

“Then I need to be bigger, don’t I?”

“Perhaps you do, Samantha. We can talk about that later this week. First, I want you between my legs, then I want to intimately inspect those girls of yours.”

“Yes ma’am,” and Samantha quickly turned down the bed.

Samantha slowly and methodically brought her mistress to three glorious orgasms. Samantha seemed to get just a little bit better each time she went down on her mistress. Lisa patted her boy on her head and twirled her hair on her finger as she recuperated from her frenzy. “Samantha, you have never made love from the top, have you?”

“No ma’am.” She discretely ignored her tryst with Harriet.

“Please straddle me,” Lisa instructed her boy. “Enter me, then sit up like you’re doing now.” Samantha easily slid her penis inside Lisa’s wet pussy, then sat up, putting a little extra pressure on both of them. Lisa reached up and touched Samantha’s breast. She caressed both breasts for a moment then took her nipples between her fingers. “How does that feel?”

“Heavenly my mistress. I like that very much.”

“Come lay your breasts against mine. Kiss me.” Samantha laid down on Lisa’s smooth body, pressing her breasts and nipples against Lisa’s and then giving her a soft kiss. “I like your breasts, Samantha. They make you so feminine and sexy. Push yourself up with your arms, then begin stroking yourself in and out of me. I want to watch your breasts swing with your movements.”

Samantha began stroking in and out of Lisa’s pussy while her breasts swayed with her motion. “Faster Samantha, faster. Swing your boobs more; I want to see my boy jiggle his girls in time to our screwing. Show me your girls; work them. Go Samantha, go.”

Lisa began rocking with Samantha, squeezing her penis and enjoying the feeling of Samantha inside her. “Faster, Samantha, faster. Make us cum. Make us both squeal with joy!”

Samantha stepped up her speed, pushing faster and harder and driving herself into Lisa’s hot, wet pussy. Harder and harder she drove; her breasts swinging to and fro and slapping against each other at times. “More Samantha, more!” Lisa begged. “Take me hard, like a boy. Own me! Use me! Push harder, deeper. Faster boy, faster boy. Make me scream.”

“Aaaaiiiihhh.” Lisa had reached her goal and was now telling the world. Sweat was dripping from Samantha as she slowed down from her strenuous efforts. Lisa was arching her hips and back up towards the sky as she pressed her clit against Samantha and tried to drive herself to even greater pleasure and prolong her orgasmic bliss. Samantha stopped her hips and felt her breasts continue to jiggle for a moment longer. She enjoyed the sensation.

Lisa didn’t last much longer and she crashed to the bed, panting and sweating just like Samantha. She watched Samantha’s breasts come to a stop. She playfully pawed her left breast and made it rock a little longer. “They stopped too quickly,” Lisa giggled. “You definitely need bigger boobs, Samantha.”

“Yes Miss Lisa, I agree.”

“Did you cum?”

“No ma’am.”

“I’m sorry. Perhaps next time. Let’s put on our bikinis and jump in the ocean. That will cool us down.”

“Yessss.”

The two lovers had a wonderful vacation aboard their very own sex cruise. They lived in their bikinis, or at least parts of their bikinis, all week. When they were on shore or approaching another ship, Lisa had Samantha wear an opaque wrap-around. When they were alone they often went topless. Lisa loved seeing Samantha’s teenage breasts bouncing on her chest. Perky and firm, they gave Samantha an amazing feminine figure. Samantha’s body and movements were fluid and sinuous. And even better was looking at that little bulge in the front of her tiny bikini. More often than not, Samantha would peak above that tiny bit of fabric. And Lisa made sure that Samantha was wearing “tiny” bits of fabric.

When she was getting just the tiniest bit horny, Lisa had Samantha remove her bikini bottom also. She loved rubbing suntan lotion on Samantha’s boy toy, and over her girls. Lisa couldn’t keep her hands off that body with its firm ass, tiny waist, adequate breasts and her cute and youthful visage. Except for one little item, Samantha was a lithesome and sexy teenage girl. Full of vigor and totally obedient, Samantha was the fulfillment of Lisa’s lifelong dreams.

Lisa’s princess had arrived. And Samantha was in nirvana. The best part for Samantha, even beyond showing off her awesome body was the thrill of being so sexy and at the same time not having to wear that cursed corset. She never did come to grips (sic) with that confining corset. She accepted it, but … it sucked! She was not looking forward to going home and returning to that cursed monstrosity.

They swam and snorkeled and frolicked and totally enjoyed the warm, crystal clear waters of the South Pacific. They laid on the bow of the boat and tanned their bodies. They took little naps and played sexy games with one another in their cabin. Samantha curled their hair, dressed them and applied makeup for their evening forays ashore for a bit of dining and entertainment. Well after sunset they returned to their cabin for serious titillation and fucking.

And all through the week they talked about their future. Samantha was especially interested in Lisa’s plans for the two of them. Samantha had made serious commitments to her fiancée. She was giving up much, but she was expecting much in return. Her future independence had been willingly sacrificed for money, wealth and comfort; and also a shot at maybe playing big-time politics. She had totally remade her body, giving up any masculinity that she had once possessed, in pursuit of her new future. She was now totally immersed in a feminine body and she would live her life in a feminine world; a matriarchy where she would forever be a second class citizen.

Sam had no second thoughts. Heavens no! Her new lifestyle required many adjustments and sacrifices, but she was willing and eager to make her new life successful. She would never look back. But she was curious as to what her destiny held; and even more important she wanted to know if she could influence that destiny. Could she use her new life for more than sybaritic enjoyment? Could she make a difference?

They talked about showers and weddings, children, breast enlargement surgery, motherhood, homes and estates, horses, jobs and especially politics. Would Lisa truly run for the presidency? Would Samantha be allowed to be her campaign manager? Would Mona teach Samantha how to manipulate and use the politicians of Washington D.C.? Could Samantha manipulate her mistress, and accomplish what she had dreamed about for 18 months? Would life work out for the beautiful teenage boy named Samantha?

What was Samantha’s destiny; mother, nanny, housewife, socialite, princess, heroine or powerbroker? Or all of the above?

The girls talked all week with Samantha asking hundreds of questions and making tiny, little suggestions. Lisa had decided long ago what she wanted out of life and her concubine. She had a very domestic vision for Samantha. But she listened politely as Samantha respectively made suggestions and tried to nudge Lisa in new and interesting directions. Samantha wanted to be a mother to their children, she knew that was expected, but after the children were old enough to have a nanny, Samantha wanted to be out in the real world with her mistress. Samantha wanted to help her mistress be successful in the political arena. Samantha wanted Lisa to become President of the United States, and she wanted to be the secret First Lady of the White House.

Samantha wanted to make sure that hers’ was the voice that Lisa turned to for advice. She wanted their pillow talk to be the most significant source of ideas and justification in Lisa’s life. Samantha intended on being the power behind the throne. She would change things. She would!

Finally at the end of the week there was one final bit of business. Lisa had to tell Samantha that she was already married. Lisa dreaded that moment. Not because she expected trouble from Samantha, but because she truly was not happy with what she had done behind Samantha’s back. Oh yes, Samantha was chattel; she was only a courtesan after all. But deep inside, Lisa had some feelings for her boy. Like a puppy, she hated to disappoint Samantha. But life was full of disappointments. As painful as they were, the tough used those disappointments to make themselves stronger. Why couldn’t Samantha do the same? Yeah, hell yes, Samantha would just have to use the experience to make herself stronger. .

It was their last day and they were lying on the bow of the ship as it cruised back to the harbor. Lisa was wearing her bikini, but Samantha was tanning in the nude. God what a body!

“Samantha, there is something I have to tell you.”

Samantha sat up and looked respectively at her mistress. “Yes ma’am. Do you need something?”

“No Samantha. Yes … I need your attention. I have to tell you something before we return home.” Samantha said nothing and looked lovingly at her mistress. Samantha reminded Lisa of a dog; a big black Labrador retriever. They were the most adoring animals in world. They loved their masters … and mistresses.

“We are going to get married when we get home.”

“Oh yes Miss Lisa, I want that very much.”

“But you know that I have to be careful about … certain things, items, situations … for my … and our political career.”

“Oh yes mistress, of course I understand.”

Lisa swallowed hard and decided to plunge straight in, “Samantha I am already legally married.”

Samantha was dumbfounded. She had been struck with lightening and she couldn’t feel. She was mentally numb. She had considered many different scenarios and options, but never … never … NEVER had she consider this. Samantha’s hand slid out from under her and she fell flat on the deck. She banged her elbow on the deck and it hurt. She looked pitiful. Her eyes began welling up and she sniffled, but said nothing. Samantha was devastated. “Was this the end?” she thought. “Was all of this just a trick to turn her into a prostitute? Oh fuck!” Samantha remained lying on the deck and didn’t even try to right herself. She just looked at her mistress.

“I’m sorry, Samantha. It means nothing. Nothing. But we want to have children. I know you want kids, and I do too. But … damn! … but I can’t have kids as a single mother ... out of wedlock, you know.”

Lisa looked at Samantha for understanding, but there was no understanding in her eyes; only tears.

“Samantha, I’m sorry but I had no choice. We can’t announce our marriage to the world, it’s … it’s too … unusual. No one would accept our beautiful situation. And to have children, I have to be married. Legally … I mean. I mean … I mean Samantha you know, we … I mean I have to be respectable and married when I have our children. You understand of course.”

Samantha’s hormones were kicking in and they were in full force. Full warp. Warp ten, full steam ahead, ramming speed! Samantha didn’t start crying; no that is too weak a word. Samantha began bawling her eyes out. She rolled over on the deck and buried her face. Sobs wracked through her body as she heaved and rolled on the deck.

“Samantha? Samantha?” But she was not responding. Lisa slid over closer and began caressing her bare back. “Samantha honey?” she crooned soothingly. “Please understand, I have to have the look of propriety. I can’t have our children out of … out of what the public thinks is out of wedlock. I can’t my love. This marriage means nothing. It’s a sham. It is only for cover. It’s only a marriage of convenience. Please you have to understand this.”

Samantha continued sobbing and Lisa shut up. She didn’t know what else to say.

“When? How long?” Samantha coughed out between sobs.

“One year.”

Samantha screamed. Her hormones had control of her and they were ravaging her mind. “You … you …” she wanted to swear at Lisa, but she knew she couldn’t. Lisa was still her mistress. “W .. wh … who … who?” she stammered.

“Jeff Winter.”

“Fucker,” she blurted out.

Lisa was at a loss for words. She continued to caress Samantha’s back, but Samantha exploded. As much as Samantha knew … at least rationally … that she shouldn’t do it, she lost control. She literally screamed as she jumped up and ran to their cabin. Lisa looked up and the entire crew was standing around the deck looking at her. “Fuck off,” she blurted out and stomped off after Samantha.

Lisa found Samantha in their cabin. She was nude, lying spread eagle on their bed and crying into her pillow. No, crying is too meek a word. Samantha was screaming bloody murder into that pitiful pillow. Lisa had few options. She sat down next to Samantha and caressed her back and ass as she continued to sob into her pillow. She waited for Samantha to calm down … if that was even possible.

Eventually, some semblance of control slipped into Samantha’s mind. Sniffling and rubbing her eyes she rolled over onto her side. “Why? What are going to do with me?” She looked pitiful.

“I’m going to marry you Samantha. Please understand it was on paper only. It means nothing. As soon as I am pregnant with our last girl I will divorce him. But … but … Samantha listen to me … our children have to be legitimate!”

Samantha’s mind was fighting against her hormones. She wanted to be rational, but those female hormones were fighting her tooth and nail. They were emotional and they were telling her all kinds of nasty things. She had been betrayed. Trashed. Thrown away and discarded like a whore with syphilis. She was trash. White trash that believed in stupid fairy tales. Trailer trash of the worst kind. Mona had insinuated that long ago, and now … and now even Lisa believed it. God damn her!

“Samantha? Samantha?” Lisa called quietly.

Samantha rolled away from Lisa and curled up into a fetal position. She snuffled for several more minutes while Lisa rolled her eyes and wondered what the hell she was going to do. “Did you sleep with him?” Samantha asked.

Samantha had spoken very quietly and Lisa didn’t hear her. “What?” she asked.

“You heard me!” Samantha sobbed. She was shaking and barely coherent. “Did you sleep with him?”

Lisa fell onto the bed along side Samantha. She looked at the ceiling of their cabin and thought for only a moment. She closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “He’s gay. That’s why I picked him.”

Samantha rolled over and glared at her mistress. “You’re going to give my children to him?” she demanded. “He is going to be their legal father?”

“Uhm … yeah, I guess so.”

Samantha buried her face in his pillow and began screaming again.

CHAPTER 53

“You look good enough to eat,” Lisa told her fiancée. “Are you ready to go?”

“Almost. I have a lot of clothes to put on, mistress. Are you sure these garters will be acceptable?”

“They will have to be. Everyone will be there. We need 15 items. Now hurry or you’re going to be late for your own shower.”

They weren’t late. As they walked into the salon they were greeted by everyone. The entire family was there including the children. Little girls were running all over the house, flipping their dresses up and chasing one another. Miss Maggie served cake and tea and gave ice cream to the kids. The talk was pleasant and friendly. Everyone liked Samantha and she felt comfortable in their presence.

After eating and talking the presents were opened. Lisa watched as Samantha began pulling ribbons and paper off boxes. Lisa and Samantha didn’t need much in the way of household gifts. They had moved into a 100 acre estate one congressional district over from Miss Mona and Miss Maggie. They were actually a little closer to Washington than Miss Mona’s house.

Their new house was being decorated by a professional, and some upgrades were being made to the plumbing and insulation. The kitchen had been torn out and was totally reconstructed on the advice of Miss Maggie. A new barn would be built in the spring and Abigail and Cinnamon would be moved over to their new home. Additional security measures were being installed along the periphery of the estate, and a large safe had been installed for their expensive jewelry.

Some of the gifts were art objects to warm the new house. Other items were for the baby. Lisa was already two months pregnant and that was why they had to get married quickly. Lisa wanted to wear a stylish wedding gown and so they had to move fast, before she started adding girth to her frame. Samantha opened the gifts, and held them up while appreciative oohs and ahhs went up from the crowd. There were many gifts and Samantha needed almost an hour to open everything and then present them. Plus, Samantha was stalling. She was moving in slow motion; dreading her initiation into the Hawthorne family.

But eventually she could stall no longer. All of the gifts were opened and the treats had been consumed. The children and spouses were shooed from the room. The door was closed and locked. Only the family was left.

Lisa took Samantha’s hand and stood in front of the family. “I would like to present my fiancée and courtesan, Samantha Springer.” Lisa walked Samantha over to her roommate and cousin Constance. Constance was the youngest adult in the family. “Miss Constance, I would like to introduce Samantha.”

Samantha gave a little bow and recited her lines. “Miss Constance it is an honor to meet you. I look forward to serving you in any capacity you choose.” Then Samantha lifted the hem of her skirt. She had a lacy, red and gold garter slid up each leg. Constance slid one of the garters off her leg.

Lisa took Samantha to the next oldest girl, Elizabeth. Elizabeth and Constance were the daughters of Lisa’s aunt Serena. “Miss Elizabeth, I would like to introduce Samantha Springer.”

Samantha repeated her lines. “Miss Elizabeth it is an honor to meet you. I look forward to serving you in any capacity you choose.” She pulled up her skirt and Miss Elizabeth slid off her other garter. Elizabeth waved it in the air and some of the other women chuckled.

“Next was Aunt Joyce’s youngest daughter Christine. “Miss Christine it is an honor to meet you. I look forward to serving you in any capacity you choose.” Miss Christine removed one of Samantha’s heels.

Harriet was next. Harriet was one of the “special” girls in the family. Miss Grace had one child and four grandchildren that had required extraordinary efforts to join their female siblings. Harriet gave Samantha a big grin as she removed Samantha’s other heel.

Miss Karin was Aunt Serena’s second oldest. After her introduction, Samantha hefted her skirt and slip up to her waist. Serena unclipped Samantha’s garter and slid her stocking down her leg. Miss Karin smiled as she waved it over her head.

Next came Gloria; Samantha’s skiing buddy. She was the youngest daughter of Aunt Michelle. Miss Gloria removed the second nylon stocking.

Miss Trudy was Serena’s oldest, and another “special” girl. She reached under Samantha’s skirt and pulled down her slip. Miss Trudy laid it across her lap.

Aunt Joyce’s oldest child was the “special” Miss Pamela. Miss Pamela pulled off Samantha’s skirt. Samantha was left in her girdle and blouse as Lisa introduced her to Aunt Michelle’s middle daughter, the “special” Miss Lydia. Miss Lydia unbuttoned Samantha’s blouse and exposed Samantha’s camisole.

Her camisole was removed by Aunt Michelle’s oldest girl, Miss Janice. That was the end of the grandchildren. Being the youngest of Miss Grace’s children, Aunt Serena removed Samantha’s girdle. Aunt Joyce removed Samantha’s corset and Miss Mona removed Samantha’s liner. She was down to two items of clothing; her brassiere and panties. They were a matching pair and very lacy. Aunt Michelle had the pleasure of removing Samantha’s bra. As she removed Samantha’s bra, Samantha’s new pair of C-girls came tumbling out of their cups. Appreciative applause came from the women in the room.

And finally, Samantha was brought before Miss Grace. “Miss Grace it is an honor to meet you. I look forward to serving you in any capacity you chose.”

Miss Grace said, “Thank you.” Then she gently took hold of Samantha’s lacy, pink panties and slid them down her legs. Samantha stepped out of the panties and Miss Grace handed them to Miss Mona. Miss Grace produced a one inch by 6 inch strap of pink velvet and proceeded to tie it around Samantha’s penis and scrotum. She was very gentle. When she had finished tying a neat bow, she stood. Turning Samantha around so that she was facing the room full of women, Miss Grace announced, “I present to you a very beautiful boy, Samantha Hawthorne. Please welcome him to our family.”

Standing before them was a red faced Samantha, totally naked except for a pink ribbon tied around his shrunken penis. She was very beautiful with her pretty hair, large breasts, narrow waist and adequate hips. Female on top and boy down below, she made a pretty epicene addition to the family. All of the women stood and politely applauded their newest member.

Miss Grace handed Samantha’s panties back to her and she pulled them up to cover her ribbon. Miss Michelle handed Samantha her brassiere and she quickly covered her voluptuous girls. Then she walked around the room and collected all of her clothes. She was allowed to step into an adjacent room to finish dressing.

Lisa followed her into the room. “I thought that went very well, Samantha.”

“Thank you mistress. I was a nervous wreck before we started, so I hope I didn’t flub any of my introductions.”

“You were perfect darling. Now we can get married. I can’t wait until next Saturday.”

“Me too,” Samantha said with a big smile.

******

Samantha tried to settle into her new life and she looked for some routine. But routine was fleeting. After returning from vacation, Miss Mona took Samantha under her wing. She set up two desks at work for Samantha; one in her office and one in her secretary’s office. Samantha spent most of her time with Miss Mona, but there were also things she could learn from Sophie.

Miss Mona took Samantha to many of her meetings and most of her social calls. Samantha helped entertain guests at dinner parties at home, chatted with clients over lunch in fancy restaurants and helped take congressman and other lobbyists to games and concerts. Miss Mona was very generous in training Samantha. Samantha was quickly exposed to some of the secrets and tricks used in the dirty world of Washington politics.

Samantha didn’t have to work 40 hour weeks, however. She had other responsibilities. Before their marriage, Samantha was tasked with handling the contractors working on their new estate. She was sent on errands for Lisa, buying things and meeting contractors. Lisa had already started her first career as a public volunteer. She was building credentials for her resume, so Samantha was left with these chores.

Samantha’s routine was almost regular until the first baby arrived. Then she had to spend most of her time at home raising her children. Contrary to some of her fears, the child’s last name was registered as Hawthorne. But Samantha absolutely hated the name in the box reserved for father. Yes, she knew who the true father was, and the children would know also. But it was still difficult for Samantha.

As soon as daughter number four was born Lisa divorced Jeff Winters. It was amicable. How could it not be, when both parties got exactly what they wanted. Lisa had her legitimate children and Jeff had his millions.

Only Samantha was left out of the bargain. She got nothing; not the legal piece of paper that said she was married, nor her name on the children’s birth certificate. Samantha was the lost concubine. But she did have some benefits; a million dollar estate, and a lavish lifestyle. That is if one regards changing diapers and cleaning up baby puke to be lavish.

After their first daughter, Gina, arrived Samantha’s routine changed and became much more solid for the next 5 years. She was mother and housewife for 6 days a week. Each Friday the nanny took over and Samantha was able to go back to her apprenticeship under Miss Mona. Fridays were the best days, because many of social events were scheduled for the weekend. And there were still Saturday dinner parties at Miss Mona’s that she attended.

The nanny lived with them and had Tuesday and Wednesdays off. She was present all weekend so Lisa and Samantha were allowed some social life. But most of their weekend time was spent bonding and playing with the girls. Gina, Alexia, Megan and Samantha were the apple of Samantha’s eye; especially little Samantha. Little Samantha was a “special” girl and earned her father’s name as a consolation prize to big Samantha. In terms of family and marriage, Samantha was forced to take what she could get.

Samantha had no regrets. She knew what she was getting into and she accepted her situation. She loved living as a beautiful girl and she loved her children. And she really didn’t mind being Lisa’s handmaiden. Lisa turned out to be relatively low maintenance and didn’t demand too much from her concubine. Lisa lavished clothes and jewelry on her eye candy. Samantha accompanied Lisa to the salon every Saturday morning, where she was pampered like a princess. Lisa took Samantha out riding on weekends and they went to dinner and plays at least once a week. Samantha appreciated the decompression time away from the kids. As the kids grew older they became a handful.

After the youngest girl, Samantha, reached four, all of the girls were now in preschool or school for much of the day. When they returned home the nanny was able to handle their needs. It was time for Lisa to throw her hat in the political arena, and Samantha was free to help her. Miss Mona essentially ran Lisa’s first campaign for the House. Samantha was an active participant, but much of the time she looked over Mona’s shoulder as Mona pulled the strings.

By age 31, Lisa was a congresswoman and Samantha was an experienced campaign manager. Samantha did little traveling with Lisa the first few years. Actually, Lisa had only a few trips outside Washington D. C.. Samantha wanted to keep a close eye on the children so she didn’t follow Lisa on those trips. But the rest of the time, Samantha accompanied Lisa to the office. She became Lisa’s office manager and built up an impressive list of talents and accomplishments. She was even offered big bucks to jump ship and go work for a senator. But Samantha had close ties to her present employer; ties that no one else was aware of. And that was the way they wanted it.

After two terms in the house, Miss Mona convinced their state senator to retire. He didn’t want to retire, but Miss Mona convinced him. Lisa ran for the “vacant” seat and won it easily. Samantha and Miss Mona made an unbeatable team. But next time, Samantha had no intentions of allowing Miss Mona on her team. Samantha was up to speed now. She began making bold moves and lining up alliances. She was preparing for the Big Campaign.

*********

Before the children arrived and while she was working full time with Miss Mona, Samantha electronically scanned her love letters from Lisa. “Why are you doing that,” Mona asked.

“For sentimental reasons, ma’am. When I am old and decrepit, I want to look back upon a stunning life with Lisa. Plus, some day I want to show it to my children — your grand daughters. This is a fairy tale come true for me, Miss Mona.”

For once the old witch smiled. “I guess it is, Samantha.”

Samantha spent the better part of a month collecting all of Miss Maggie’s pictures from Samantha’s early days. She asked Lisa for copies of all the pictures that Mistress Ann had sent her. And of course her wedding pictures went into the album. And then she artfully added her ephemera; programs from concerts, opera’s ballets, and ticket stubs from those activities as well as her travels around Europe with Mistress Ann. She had even saved her ticket stubs from her train travels as a nanny.

It was a very well done album. And when no one was watching, she used the company’s fancy publishing center and made 5 copies. Over the next few months Samantha made a number of trips. She surreptitiously slipped into a number of banks and placed her albums in safe deposit boxes. She paid in full for a fifty year deposit on the boxes. Four albums were placed in the different boxes.

Later she and Lisa made a trip to Switzerland to visit Harriet. In a private moment she handed the fifth album to Harriet. “Please place it in a safe deposit box and keep the key.”

Harriet glanced through the large book and her heart skipped a beat. “What are you intending to do, Samantha?”

“Protect myself.”

“This can be used for more than protection, Samantha. I’m not stupid.”

“I promise you that that is all it is for. I don’t intend to ever use it. After Lisa’s political career is over, I will have it destroyed.”

“You’re playing with fire. And I really have to suspect your motives.”

Samantha sighed but did not back off. “The Hawthorne family plays for keeps, Harriet. And no matter what doubts you might have, and even though my public and legal name is Springer, I consider myself a Hawthorne; through and through. I will never hurt the family. I made that promise to you before and I will continue to stand by that for the rest of my life. But I intend to play for keeps also.

“I will be protected. The stakes are too high and this type of situation comes along only once in hundreds of years. I do not intend to fail. I and by extension, Miss Lisa and this family, will win. I promise you that Harriet.”

“I believe you Samantha, but I can’t do it.” She handed the DVD back to Samantha. “But since I believe you, I will tell no one of our conversation.”

Samantha’s face showed her disappointment. “Thank you Harriet, I hope my actions won’t change your opinion of me.”

“It will Samantha … but for the better. I can see how strong your convictions are and how much thought and preparation you are putting into your future. But I just can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

Several days later Samantha walked into a locksmith with 4 safe deposit box keys. “I’m sorry ma’am but I cannot copy those for you.”

Samantha set her purse on the counter, took out her wallet and counted five brand new one hundred dollar bills onto the counter. The man shook his head no. She put two more bills on the counter and said, “That’s all. I want two of each.”

A month later Samantha made two more stops to banks. In the first bank she placed 5 envelopes in a safe deposit box. Four of them had keys to safe deposit boxes and they were already addressed and carrying forever stamps. The fifth letter was meant for Harriet. The note inside said;

“Dear Harriet;

I want you to know that I have always loved Lisa and she will always be the number one love of my heart. After my children you are the other great love of my life. I thank you for everything. In return, I tell you now, the albums have been sent out.

Take care of yourself.

With my everlasting love.”

The letter was not signed. She paid for one year’s deposit on the safe deposit box. If anything ever happened to her, the letters would be mailed within a year. Samantha placed 5 identical letters in another safe deposit box on the other side of the country.

She never intended to send them, and she would be totally scrupulous in making sure those boxes were paid for every year of her (and Lisa’s) political life. She prayed that her albums would never see the light of day. They were, after all, all about her.

*******

At age 41 Lisa was perfectly situated for her next step. She had a mature beauty that would appeal to the electorate and she was amply wizened in the ways of politics. She was ready. Across the lunch table sat a very proud mother. “I make the announcement tomorrow.”

“I thought you would.”

“And I want Samantha standing on the podium when I do.”

“Are you sure that is wise? It will put him in the public eye.”

“Yes I am sure. He has been amazing. You taught him well, mother. I dare say he could give you a run for your money.”

“That’s a battle that I would relish,” Mona responded.

“Mother! I know that you and he have not always agreed on everything. But I will not have you two fighting one another. If it comes down to choosing between the two of you, you will be disappointed.”

“You would stand against your mother?”

“Mom, don’t even think of putting me in a position to play that game. I have the utmost trust in Samantha and I WILL have him by my side.”

“I know Lisa,” Mona answered with just a bit of humility. “It was the competitiveness coming out in me. I was only saying that I would like the battle. He would be a worthy opponent.” Mona smiled and meant what she said.

******

Two hundred miles away another lunch conference was taking place. “We make the announcement tomorrow.”

“I expected that.”

“Do we have a deal?”

The gentleman hemmed and hawed.

“I promise that we will govern from the center. We will go as far left as necessary to give you your three items. And in return, you will not block us on my four items. We will go to the right on them.”

“Why do you get four items and we only get three?”

“Because we are going to be President. Give us our due deference, sir.”

“You are a bastard.”

“In more ways than you can imagine.”

“Other than the three and four items, you promise to keep an open mind on everything else?”

“I promise. As I said, we will govern from the middle, but we will not settle for the middle on anything. If something needs doing, we will do it right, no matter how far in either political spectrum we must go. And as much as this will surprise you, after the election I don’t give a damn about either party. I will work for the improvement of our people and this country. Wall street is going to be in apoplectic shock,” she said with a grin.

The gentleman took a sip of his martini. Samantha took the opportunity to proclaim, “We will revitalize this country. We will once again be a beacon to the world. No more compromises. One hundred years from now I intend to have Lisa Hawthorne known as the matriarch of our country. Do we have a deal?”

“And your boss is totally in agreement with all of this?”

Lisa smiled and the man took that as a positive sign. “Not a chance in the world” she thought.

“You have the word of a Hawthorne, senator. And a Hawthorne woman never goes back on her word. Do we have a deal?”

The man nodded his head. “I fear there will be some strategic missteps on our side of the campaign. They could prove to be fatal,” he sighed without sarcasm or glee.

Samantha reached under her chair for her purse. “Have you ever done this before, sir?”

“Done what?”

Samantha removed a small pocket knife from her purse and opened it. The senator’s mouth dropped open as Samantha made a small slice in the fat of her palm, just below her thumb. The slit began to bleed. She handed the knife to the senator. He gathered his determination and used the knife to make a similar cut. Looking each other in the eye they solemnly shook hands.

“Thank you,” she said.

********

The inauguration was finished and Lisa was settled into the White House. A celebratory party was called. After most of the other guests had departed, Miss Grace, Miss Mona and Miss Michelle were called into the Oval Office. Lisa took her rightful position behind her desk, while Samantha joined the other women in front of the desk.

“This is phenomenal,” Mona crowed. “I shall have my senator begin work on our first bill,” and she flashed a huge smile at Michelle.

“Not so fast,” Lisa interrupted. “We have some other things to handle first.”

“What?” Mona demanded. “We have talked about this legislation for years. It will make us, Lisa. The Hawthornes will be a dominant force in world economics. Right Michelle?”

“We don’t have a majority in either the house or the senate, yet. They can stop us anytime they want.”

“Hardly,” Miss Mona said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They couldn’t get a majority vote on coffee and donuts. We fracture away any help we need.”

“We’ve been giving them lessons for years on how to block and negate any progress, mother. You have been very effective at promoting that. The chickens may come home to roost.” Lisa gave her mother a “finger-pointing” look. “We have 4, maybe 8 years to get our legislation through.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

Lisa looked at Samantha who gave her an encouraging smile. “We reach a hand across the aisle. Samantha has identified 5 key Dems that can help us; if we help them.”

“How?” she demanded warily.

“Nothing would be more powerful, or more significant than a gesture by you mother.” Mona’s eyebrows shot up as she studied her daughter. “Nothing says buddies like money. A fund raiser hosted by Miss Mona Hawthorne would be a deal sealer. It doesn’t have to be a big one,” Lisa said

Miss Mona’s mouth fell open and she stared incredulously at her daughter. Then she turned her attention to Samantha and spoke through clenched teeth, “This has to be your idea!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I will never help re-elect a Democrat. Period, end of conversation.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you help them or not, ma’am” Samantha began. “The five that I have picked out are in perfectly safe districts. But all five are key decision makers and leaders. With their cooperation we can make some significant progress in our first two years. If we do the right things, right now, right here at the start, we may be able to break with tradition and pick up the needed seats we need for a majority in the midterm elections. Then we can do whatever we want, Miss Mona.

“Without their cooperation, we may be mired in stalemate for two wasted years.” She gave an accusatory look at Miss Mona.

“I can buy the swing votes we need. I can threaten primaries and attack ads that will put the fear of god in them. I’ll get you the votes. We don’t have to cooperate with those bastards!” Mona spat out.

Samantha sighed and in a very quiet voice she looked at Miss Grace and pleaded, “Always the stick, never the carrot. Miss Grace, please give us a carrot. I can get their cooperation on several items; popular items that will win us tons of public support. Tons of voters. I can eliminate compromise and get us almost everything we want on these bills.”

Miss Mona stared at Samantha; how dare he attempt to go over her head.

“How Samantha? How do you know?” Miss Grace inquired.

“I’ve already talked with them, ma’am. I have agreements. They’re already in place.”

Mona’s face registered total shock. Miss Michelle looked on with just the faintest flicker of amusement and Miss Grace’s face registered respect. “And how do you know they will keep their word?”

“Ma’am, I have already given Miss Lisa a mandate; the biggest margin of victory in forty years. All of those ridiculous faux pas and stupid mistakes they made …” Samantha allowed her voice to trail off.

“What are you saying?” Mona demanded.

“I made the agreement two years ago. I promised them a few things and they have promised me a few things. Actually, it is a done deal. And they have showed their good faith.” Samantha turned and gave a little bow to Lisa. “We have the highest office in the land and a mandate. And with a little good faith on our side, we will accomplish things you never imagined, ma’am.”

“They agreed to this? They gave you the Presidency?” Miss Grace asked incredulously. “How? How did you ever get them to agree to it? Why in the world would they have trusted you on something so monumental?”

“I convinced them they were going to lose anyway. Then I offered them something for nothing essentially. And to seal it, I gave them the word of a Hawthorne lady, m’lady.”

Mona spun towards Lisa, “You did what?”

But it wasn’t Lisa who answered Miss Mona. Samantha spoke quietly and calmly, “I never told them which Hawthorne lady, Miss Mona.” She held up her right hand and showed them just the slightest hint of a scar on her palm. She smiled as Miss Michelle burst out laughing.

“What?” Mona demanded.

“Don’t you see? He gave them his word as a Hawthorne lady,” Michelle explained as she continued to laugh.

Samantha pressed her advantage. “Silence the dogs and call off the extremist attacks; on both sides. You can reel in all of the hate talk on the radio and talk shows. Stop with the attack ads and stop the money flowing to the wild-eyed crazies. No more support of militias and belligerent fringe groups. You can stop it all Miss Mona. You are the key.”

“And that will get us everything we want?” she challenged her son-in-law.

“It will get me what I want,” he thought with a grin.

“Yes, ma’am.” Samantha replied.

Miss Mona glared at the stupid grin on her face. “And what about this legislation that Michelle asked me for? I promised her, Samantha dear.” The “dear” dripped with sarcasm and venom.

“I guarantee that nothing will happen to hurt any of our positions, ma’am. But in the meantime we will have to earn our trillions the old fashioned way.”

Michelle began laughing again. “Samantha, you are a force. Lisa … holy shit! You better watch your concubine or he may end up owning us all. Mona, I vote we do what he asks. I think we’re going to do all right in the end.”

“I promise ma’am, we will,” Samantha closed.

As everyone left the room, Michelle held back. She grabbed Samantha’s arm and held her back also. Miss Michelle looked at Samantha accusatorially. “You have no intention of ever introducing Miss Mona’s legislation, do you?”

“No ma’am.” Miss Michelle just stared into Samantha’s eyes, waiting for her to explain.

“Ma’am … you have to understand where I came from …”

“No I don’t,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to hear your rationalizations or justifications. Just tell me why. That’s all I want to know.”

Samantha swallowed but refused to back down. “I will not let the rich plunder the treasury or the working people of this country any longer. Contrary to common perception, the rich don’t pay taxes and they don’t make jobs. We’ve tried this economy from the top down thing and it doesn’t work. Trickle down is just another way of saying “piss on” the working class. I’m convinced we can make it work form the bottom up.

“That means we have to help the lower and middle classes. We have to get the banks and insurance companies, the credit card companies, the oil conglomerates and utilities back into sync where they provide fair prices and fair deals and none of this stupid small print stuff. The deals and the hidden monopolies have to go. And I am convinced ma’am, that if we can do that, we can grow our economy much farther and with more sustained growth than with the top down rip-off.

“And if that happens, in the long run our family finances will grow with it. I think it will help everyone, including the rich. That’s my thinking ma’am.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear, Samantha. Now, what are you going to do when Miss Mona figures out what you are doing?”

“I have a contingency plan for that too, ma’am. I just hope I never have to use it.”

“Miss Mona is not a good loser Samantha. She is worse than a pit bull. She’s a bitch with a capital B, little boy.”

“I have nothing but respect for Miss Mona, ma’am.”

Miss Michelle began laughing. “If I didn’t know better Samantha, I would think you were getting just a little bit arrogant.”

“I don’t mean to be ma’am. Really. But this is so important to me that I have spent many a night lying awake and planning. Miss Mona is an awesome lady. But I will do my best.”

Miss Michelle studied Samantha for several moments “Samantha, I have a trip to Hong Kong coming up at the end of the month. I’d like you to come with me.”

“I’ll do whatever my mistress instructs me to do, ma’am.”

“Perhaps … ma’am, perhaps we can talk. I would really to talk to you … from my soul.” Miss Michelle said nothing, but merely looked at Samantha. “Since I have met Miss Lisa … heck even before I met Miss Lisa, I have had only two people that I could be honest with. One disappeared and the other no longer trusts me. Ma’am, if I go to Hong Kong with you … perhaps … maybe I can explain myself?”

Miss Michelle put her arm around Samantha’s shoulders. “I’m old enough to be your mother. Is that what you’re looking for Samantha? A mother?” Miss Michelle was half joking.

Samantha paused and looked at the floor. Keeping her eyes on the floor she said very quietly, “Maybe. I don’t know.” She looked Miss Michelle in the eye and finished, “I only want a confidant. Someone that will listen to me and let me finish before she judges me. I’m not proud of everything that I have done, but I would willingly do it all again. Every single little bit.” A tear slipped down her cheek as she again looked at the floor.

Miss Michelle tightened her grip around Samantha’s shoulders who refused to look at her. She turned her gaze to the heavens and said, “I hear you are a terrific little cunt licker Samantha.” Miss Michelle’s vulgar language brought just a little giggle from Samantha. “If you prove to be as good as your reputation, we will share some pillow talk. I like pillow talk,” she confessed.

“Thank you ma’am.”

“And if you explain yourself to my satisfaction, I’ll keep Miss Mona off your ass, Samantha.”

Samantha looked her in the eye, “Thank you. That is the most generous offer I have heard in two years. I’ll endeavor to be the best little cunt licker I can.” They both laughed.

Samantha was indeed going to be a “terrific little cunt licker”. That was what she did. And she did it very well. And that would be followed by pillow talk and soon after another Hawthorne would be on her side. Samantha had mastered the art of seduction. Miss Michelle wasn’t too far wrong when she had warned Lisa about Samantha one day owning them. Samantha would own no one, but she would get what she wanted.

“Is that the only reason we are going to Hong Kong? Pleasure?” Samantha asked.

“No, I have some business there, and actually I think it would help the family if the President’s Chief of Staff was sitting in on the negotiations. It adds just a bit of intimidation,” and she winked at Samantha. “Plus I have to give a twenty year pin to the chief maid at our residence there; Wilma something or another, I think.”

EPILOGUE

It was a very sad time for the entire Hawthorne family. Everyone was wearing black as they greeted well wishers and accepted condolences. Miss Grace had led a long and rich life. She had left behind 4 daughters, 10 grand daughters and 12 great granddaughters. And everyone was now present at her final audience.

It had been a long afternoon and everyone was tired. The guests had departed and the funeral home was closed to just the immediate family. The secret service was discretely hidden around the perimeter. Samantha was sitting in a corner with Gisela and chatting quietly. Their children were scattered nearby, also talking or playing computer games. Gisela looked up and saw Mona walk over to Lisa. They talked for only a moment and Lisa pointed towards Samantha.

“Here comes Miss Mona,” Gisela said. “Looks like you were correct — again. Good luck.”

Samantha smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “She’s been waiting a long time for this. How do you think Miss Michelle will take it?”

Gisela grinned and said, “Miss Mona can’t touch her and everyone knows it. I don’t think Miss Michelle gives a flip one way or another. But I’m pulling for you.”

Miss Mona walked up to the two pretty boys and said, “Hello Gisela. May I have Samantha for a moment?”

Samantha stood and followed Miss Mona as they walked over to a quiet corner. With just the hint of a grin Miss Mona said, “This is truly a sad day, Samantha. And especially for you.”

“Yes ma’am. I liked Miss Grace very much. I will miss her.”

“I’m sure you will. You no longer have Miss Grace to support you,” Mona said with satisfaction. Samantha said nothing. “I intend to set a clear path for our family now. A few things are going to have to change. I hope I will have your full support from now on.” Mona was clearly staking out her ascendancy to the top of the family hierarchy.

“When it comes to the family I will, as always, totally support everyone to the best of my abilities, ma’am.” Left unsaid was Samantha’s stand on non-family items. And one particular topic was hanging over the conversation like a guillotine ready to slice off someone’s head.

“Thank you Samantha, I know you will. But I would also kindly ask for your support on business and … other issues as well.”

“I think my record is clear on our business aspirations and operations, Miss Mona.”

Miss Mona scowled. The bastard wasn’t going to play ball. “There is room for some debate on that topic, Samantha.” Mona’s tone of voice was clear — and sharp. She was going to demand Samantha’s complete allegiance. Nothing less would be acceptable.

“Are you sure?” Samantha asked as she squared her shoulders.

“I think so, Samantha. There were several items that Miss Michelle and I wanted and Lisa was unable to accomplish them. And the blame rests directly with you.” Mona wasn’t going to pull any punches. She wasn’t even going to pretend to civility with Samantha.

“I think if you ask Miss Michelle you will find that she is more than comfortable with what we have achieved ma’am.” Samantha wasn’t going to back down an inch.

Others were staring to poke their heads inside the room. Word had spread that the two of them were facing off already. It hadn’t taken long. The entire family knew that Miss Mona was furious that Samantha had managed to out maneuver her over the last couple of years. And everyone knew that it was Miss Grace that kept Mona at bay. Never in the history of the family had such an encounter taken place. No one expected Samantha to have a stake in running the family or the business. He was only a concubine after all.

But Samantha had become a force to be reckoned with. In the world of politics Samantha was THE BIG DOG. Yes, Lisa was President, but Lisa was more than happy with the legacy she was crafting. Lisa was content to allow Samantha to steer the Lisa Hawthorne administration into the highest approval ratings seen in over 100 hundred years. So inside the family — hell, inside all of Washington D.C. - everyone knew where the real political power laid. Everyone knew the one person to go to for the big decisions, and everyone knew who you must never piss off.

And now the question would become, could Samantha hang onto her power without Miss Grace standing behind her. The rest of family liked Samantha. Most of them had been seduced by her and they respected what she had accomplished. But if it came to vote, which would carry the day: family or friendship? Without a doubt it was family. No one would come to Samantha’s defense. She would have to win this fight by herself.

“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear here Samantha; your power comes from this family. Without us you have nothing. We put you where you are today.”

Samantha smiled very pleasantly and looked Mona in the eye. “Yes ma’am you have. And I shall be forever grateful. Turning Sam into Samantha was the biggest favor anyone has ever done for me. And I have certainly appreciated living in such a comfortable lifestyle. Who would have ever thought that an orphan boy from New York could marry a beautiful southern girl who would later became President of this wonderful country? Why that would make a great Cinderella story wouldn’t it? I bet people would love to read about it.”

Mona glared at Samantha. Then she simmered down and replied, “I thought you had the best interests of our family in mind. Isn’t that what you said?”

“I still do, ma’am.”

“I’m not sure anymore, Samantha.” Samantha didn’t speak. She had laid her threat on the table, now it was time to see how Mona would counter. “You certainly don’t have your children’s best interest at heart. How much do you think they would miss you if you were to leave? It might be difficult to see them again. You don’t have any … legal rights here you know.”

“There is always DNA, but I’m sure a doctor would never get near enough to get a sample.” Mona didn’t smile, but her body language did. “And of course when it comes to the money and lawyers I would be outgunned totally. I have nothing of my own without a piece of paper.

“And I have no family. Maybe a few political allies would stick by me, but nothing like I have here. Everyone would come back to you of course. Politicians never leave the money, do they?”

Mona still didn’t smile, but her head lifted up perceptibly.

“About the only thing that would keep a politician away is a … scandal I guess. But it would take a scandal of mega-proportions. And once the scandal got large enough, well those politicians might not be so protective when the call for investigations began. But what kind of scandal would be able to capture the public’s fancy and keep the fires burning long enough to do some serious damage to reputations and fortunes? Hmmm …”

Mona sneered, “Is that all you have? A threat to go public? Go public with what? That you’re a transvestite? Big deal.”

“Sex usually titillates the priggish public. I think it might work. Maybe a little about me … maybe a little about importing pretty boys for personal pleasure … maybe a little bit about sharing those boys with certain … friends? I’ not positive Miss Mona, but I think sex and transvestites and transsexuals usually don’t go well in your world of politics.

“Now in my world, they’re a little more forgiving … but not much I’m sure. You’re right. It wouldn’t do either one of us any good. But on the other hand, I started with absolutely nothing. I have gotten what I wanted. I can always go back to having absolutely nothing and I am confident that I can survive. I think I can handle the harsh naked spotlight of scandal and publicity.

“One book deal would set me up for life. Like I said, I started with nothing so I can get by with a lot less than I have grown accustomed to. Can you?”

“A great bluff, but that is all it is. And there are ways to make sure bluffs stay only that — a silly little bluff.”

Samantha looked across the room and saw Miss Harriet. She motioned for Harriet to join them. Eyebrows went up around the room. An interesting development to the face-off, and everyone wondered what Harriet had to do with this battle. When Harriet began walking over, Lisa came along also.

When they arrived Samantha lowered her voice to make sure no one overheard her. “Miss Mona, I love my present life. I would hate to lose it. I have told everyone that would listen to me that I would never do anything to hurt this family. Even without a piece of paper I consider this to be my family. And I dearly would like to remain a part of this family.

“But I will be who I am. I will not knuckle under to pressure or crawl into a hole and refuse to stand for what I believe. I believe that I have served this family well. And at the same time I believe that I have served my greater family just as well. And that greater family includes everyone that lives alongside me in this country.

“And I will continue to act on behalf of what I believe is right.” Samantha stood a little taller and turned all of her attention to Mona, “And I will not let you take this country back to the bad old days of trickle down robbery. I won’t! So it’s time for you to know that I don’t bluff.”

Samantha turned to Harriet and said, “You need to tell your mother what I showed you many years ago. Tell her what is in it and tell her what I asked you to do with it. Let her know what will go out to key public officials and the press if I stop paying rent on some safe deposit boxes.”

Samantha wrapped her arm around Lisa’s and asked, “Would you kindly take me home now, mistress. I want to spend some quality time with my family.”

They took one step and Samantha stopped. She walked back to Mona and Harriet and interrupted Harriet who had just begun speaking. “Excuse Miss Harriet, I’m sorry but before we leave I must say one more thing.” Samantha paused, looked up, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In a slow drawl she said, “My children.” Then Samantha opened her eyes and looked at Mona.

“I am not the maternal mother of my children, but I am a stake holder. Half of their genes came from me.” And then with the nastiest tone of voice anyone had ever heard from Samantha she said, “If you ever try and take my children away from me you will see a jihad of biblical proportions. And I use those mixed metaphors deliberately.”

She turned back to Lisa and in her sweetest voice said, “Mistress will you please take us back to the White House now?”

The End