English Rose free porn video

/* AUTHORS NOTES: This story represents a severely edited version of the original draft. Two whole chapters have disappeared from the beginning because they featured not even a single mention of anything TG. Still it manages to weigh in at 75k plus! Whilst this story is finished, I'd quite happily extend it if there's any interest. Hope you enjoy it! */ English Rose by Kathy Core ...Jake walked towards the exit of the hotel, but was stopped in his tracks by the English boy crashing through the door. He was covered in blood and could barely stand. His clothes were torn and battered, and tears were streaming down his face. He had been mugged, and the criminal had enjoyed his work. The boy pushed past Jake to the counter. He watched the boy starting to plead with the owner for another set of keys for his room. The hotel owner nervously eyed Jake, who nodded back as if to encourage him to continue. "You got no keys - you got no room. Now, get out of my hotel!" "Don't you recognise me? I've been coming in and out for days!" The boy exclaimed. "Sonny, I get hundreds of visitors... you can't expect me to remember them. Unless they've got nice tits," he laughed to Jake, who was starting to look bored. Now was the time to make his move. "I'll take care of him. Leave him with me okay? He won't cause you any more trouble, " said Jake. "Whatever, " the owner replied. The boy looked puzzled and confused, but having nothing better to do went with the man and got into his car. ***** The boy found himself in what could only be described as a trance for the next half and hour. The seriousness of what had happened hadn't struck him yet. In fact, he found himself more preoccupied with rubbing the blood off his hands. He was vaguely aware of being in a car, and the tall man talking to him, but he didn't want to pay attention just yet. "Hey! HOW OLD ARE YOU?" He shouted. Groggy, but awake, the boy responded. "er.. 18." "You're English right?" "Yes." "Some holiday huh? Losing your passport and your money, tough break." "I've lost my passport?" "You remember getting mugged don't you?" Suddenly it dawned... "Oh Shit! I've got to go back to the hotel and get my stuff! These clothes are ruined. I've got some more money at the hotel!" "Which hotel were you staying at?" "Er... the... Belview something.. I don't know. Opposite the park." "There's hundreds of hotel's opposite the park. You don't know which one?" Jake smiled at his own malicious taunting of the boy. "The Belmont Inn? That it?" "Yes! That's the one." "Well, if I remember correctly the owner said you weren't staying there." "He's lying! He's stealing my stuff! I need to go to the police!" "You can't go to the police. You haven't got a passport. You'll just get yourself in a deeper hole!" "Okay, okay. What then? And, who are you?!" "My name's Jake. And you?" "Er... I'm Ralph. What am I doing in your car?" "I'm taking you back to my place to fix you up. I don't suppose you've got medical insurance have you? I didn't think so... believe me, in the city, when someone offers you a helping hand you'd better kiss it, 'cos it ain't gonna happen again, you hear me?" "Okay. I'm sorry." "Good, now, let's get you home" ***** Jake had a nice home. Big. Very big. Ralph had never been in such a house before, and wasn't quite prepared. Still injured, he staggered into a room with a sofa, and sat down. Jake sat right next to him. "So, here's what were going to do: I'll get you new clothes, a new passport, a credit card and if you want I'll get you a green card. That's what you want right? You're not just here on holiday are you?" Ralph just shook his head. "You can do all that?" "Sure, I've got contacts everywhere. Let's just say that my line of work introduces me to some interesting people." "Wow... thanks very much. How can I repay you?" "I'd wait until you see the passport before you start thanking me." "Huh?" "Don't worry about it. Just go upstairs and take a long bath. While you're there, I'll dig out a passport for you." "You have them just lying around?" "Well, not lying around, but I have a few that I keep for emergency situations like this." Ralph looked nervously up at Jake. If this guy turned psycho, he'd have no defence. He had nowhere to go no money and without a passport he couldn't even return to England. He thought things couldn't get any more desperate. In reality, all he had to do was take a visit to the British Embassy, but even if Ralph had been aware of this, it was soon to be too late. Chapter 2 Ralph felt the aches of the day start to drift away as he slid into the bath. Almost immediately he was overwhelmed with a feeling of sheer bliss - the water was hot, and his muscles were sore. His trance was broken by the sound of Jake coming into the bathroom. He apologised for intruding, and told Ralph how he was going to take care of his ruined clothes. He'd left a dressing gown for him to wear once he'd finished his bath, the aim of sorting him out some clothes later on. Keen to get rid of the intruder, Ralph thought nothing of it and hurriedly tried to dismiss him from the bathroom. Jake did leave eventually, and so he carried on enjoying his soak. The sheer luxury of the house in comparison to anything else he'd ever seen was staggering. The bathroom he was washing in was larger than his front room back in England. Deep down, Ralph could feel he wanted to stay here for some time. It certainly beat having to wash dishes for some sadistic cook in a dirty back- street bar. The fear was that there would be some rather unpleasant consequences from accepting Jake's help. Thoughts like this troubled him until eventually he couldn't sit peacefully in the bath any longer. In truth, he was worried sick about the uneasy relationship of victim and hero that had been bestowed upon them both. Climbing out, he paused to examine his injuries in the mirror opposite. They were small, minor injuries, but contrasted against his slight, small frame they looked all the more serious. A small bruise on his cheek spoilt his otherwise scar-free face. He had large eyes and a small nose, and it baffled him that he'd had such difficulty finding girlfriends. Maybe it was too feminine, he thought. In fact, the first thing that he always thought when he saw himself in the mirror was 'girlish' but he managed to suppress it; pretend it'd never occurred to him. After drying himself off, he looked around for the dressing gown that Jake had left him. At first he couldn't find it, because he didn't realise that the robe he'd been left was made from silk. Ralph panicked instinctively. This was what he was dreading. It was full length, and looked to him like a woman's robe. To be sure, he checked the label for a size, and sure enough, his fears were confirmed. It was a woman's robe. Assuming there was some mistake, he called downstairs. "Jake! Where did you leave the bath robe?" "Behind the door, " he replied. "There's only one." The bastard! Ralph thought to himself. He'd deliberately given him a woman's bathrobe to wear. He could only think that maybe Jake thought he'd rather go naked than wear women's clothes. He resolved to be more cautious in future. "Well, there's no way I'm going naked for that fucker," he muttered to himself. He quickly pulled on the robe and cursed Jake for not leaving him any underwear. He could feel the silk all over his body, and he became wary of the possibility of an erection. That would be the last thing he needed right now. He went downstairs and joined Jake in what looked like a study. Ralph was invited to sit in a chair in front of the room's desk, whilst Jake sat behind. Jake opened a drawer, and pulled out several passports - all American. Ralph felt uncomfortable sitting there with his hair still dripping wet. He found himself crossing his legs because the robe tended to fall open around the legs if he didn't. Without any underwear he had to be extra cautious. "Hmm... no, too big.. too fat... too old ... too ugly, " Jake was flicking through the passports, seeming to look at the photo and details, then glancing up at Ralph to compare. Finally he found one he was satisfied with. "Here you go... It's an American passport, so you won't need a green card. You'll be free to live and work in the states as you please. What do you think?" Jake was trying to hide a smirk. Ralph was trying not to hide his look of horror. "You're joking right? No-one will ever believe this is my passport ... it's not even remotely like me!" "Well, sorry to break it to you, but that's the one you most look like. It's the right age, color, weight, height... what more do you want?" "Er...a MAN's passport for a start! This belongs to a woman called Rose!" "So?" "I'm a man! I can't go around with a girl's passport. I'll get arrested!" "Why?" "Because even the blindest of the blind can see I'm not a girl!" "Okay, okay - but hypothetically speaking, if you looked like a girl it would make sense to have a girl's passport yes?" "Yeah but that's just that - hypothetical." "So, hypothetically we'll make you look like a girl, and that'll be that. You'll get a passport and birth certificate, and as a bonus I'll let you stay here with me until you can sort yourself out with enough money to rent an apartment. What do you say?" Ralph was dumbstruck, and didn't know what to say. "But why do I have to be a woman? Let me have a look at those passports..." "Ralph. Let me level with you - you're too small to fit into any of my clothes, and the only other clothes I have in the house are what my ex-wife left. Okay, it's not ideal, but if you take the passport then at least you've got a wardrobe. I've got nothing else for you." "If I take your offer, will you try to find me a male passport, so that I don't have to spend the next few weeks looking like some hideous freak?" "Sure. Consider it a deal. So, are you going to take it?" "Can't you just lend me a suit or something, and I'll try and make my own way? I think I'd rather just go back home than start dressing up as a girl." "Well, of course you're more than welcome to go at any time - you're not my prisoner you know - but I won't lend you any of my clothes. I'm afraid that I just couldn't forgive myself it I let you waste this opportunity. "I know some people who'd do anything for citizenship, and here I am offering it to you on a plate - a whole American identity - qualifications, work experience, relationships - each one of my passports has a whole life attached to it. "It's regrettable that the only one that matches you happens to be a girl, but I'm sorry to disappoint you on this but you're not the most masculine of men are you? "In addition, all the stuff my wife left you can have - her clothes, jewellery, handbags - whatever. It's yours. I don't care what you do with it all. You can sell it for all I care, but please, just accept this offer. "I've got friends who'll be able to make you look so much like a woman that your own mother wouldn't recognise you. So, what do you say?" Ralph felt a sting at the mention of his Mother. It reminded him that he had no one in this world that cared about him. This episode with Jake constituted the single longest continuous encounter with another human being for nearly 6 months. His family was dead, and his friends had deserted him when his parent's money ran out. He had no one, and nothing to lose. "Okay. I'll do it. When do I have to start dressing up?" "You already are, Rose, " Jake grinned slyly. "No, I mean, you know, properly." "Well, go to bed now, and first thing I'll take you to see my friends. When you get up in the morning I'd just wear whatever you can find in your room. As of now, you're Rose, okay? You've got to completely forget your old life. If anyone asks you any questions about your past and you contradict yourself, you'll be found out and deported straight away. You understand?" "Yeah, I do." "Carrying a fake passport is a criminal offence - and if you fuck it up by trying to tell anyone who you really and that leads the police back to me I'll kill you myself, okay?" Jake laughed, but Ralph could tell he was deadly serious about this. "Yeah, I understand. I won't tell anyone. I promise." "So, go to bed Rose. You've got a long day tomorrow." So Ralph went upstairs to bed. The room was soft and feminine, with pastels and pinks everywhere. There was a large vanity table and mirror, and a walk-in closet. On a brief inspection, Ralph didn't know how he was going to pick something to wear out of the selection of dresses and skirts on offer, but that was for the morning. It did puzzle him that Jake's ex would have her own bedroom, but then he realised that they must have led separate lives in the last few months before divorce. Chapter 3 Ralph awoke with a smile, pushing out his arms full stretch and still not reaching the sides of the huge bed he'd slept in. Opening his eyes, he remembered suddenly where he was, but it didn't really spoil his relaxed mood. Of course, he did remember the arrangement, but in the cool morning light it seemed strangely unreal, and he wasn't sure anymore about the seriousness of it, or whether or not it'd actually happened. Things seemed a little clearer though, when he realised he couldn't find any of his clothes in his room. It was seriously looking like he really was going to have to go through with it. His best hope was to find pair of jeans, and with a bit of luck a plain T- shirt. Maybe a pair of sneakers as well, he thought. This was the 90's after all, and woman had been wearing jeans for decades. To his dismay however, his search proved futile. It occurred to him that the previous occupant of this room was seriously rich, and as such probably wouldn't be seen dead in anything remotely common or plain, he guessed. He was wrong, but it was a fair assumption to make. Back to the issue at hand though, Ralph was becoming increasingly edgy. Whilst he was amazed at the quality and richness of the clothes, he desperately wanted to find at least a pair of pants, but was unable to do so. It seemed inconceivable to him that this woman could have gone through life without a single, solitary pair of pants or even slacks. Instead she had a breathtaking array of informal and business-like skirt suits, cocktail gowns, floaty summer dresses, blouses and even hats. Her shoes ranged from 3 to 4 inch heels, certainly nothing smaller. The coats she'd owned were all made from fur. He assumed that she'd rather not go out on cold days than wear anything else. He could feel himself resenting this woman's former lifestyle. There were no pants or flat shoes because this woman never needed them. She was a complete lady of leisure, free to spend her days and nights socialising, shopping and partying. Ralph laughed at the prospect of the gender barrier seeming far easier to cross than the social one. It didn't matter anyway. He'd decided that he wasn't going to be seen dead wearing any of these clothes. It was a stupid idea, concocted deliberately by Jake as an excuse to get a teenage boy to dress up in women's clothes. Ralph wondered if he even had an ex-wife at all. He had to face Jake, and tell him that he couldn't go through with it. Standing naked in his new bedroom though, it wasn't going to be easy. Finally, he remembered the robe he'd been wearing the night before. That would have been perfect, but almost predictably it had gone. Frustrated, Ralph looked at his options: Go downstairs naked, or go in women's clothes. Fearing that wearing even a single item of female clothing would weaken his position with Jake, he decided to do it naked. He quietly and nervously opened the door, and peered round. The coast was clear, so he stepped out. He tried to thrust his chest out, and squeezed his fists in an attempt to beef up his muscles, but he didn't have any to pump. Either way, he wasn't going to be bullied into doing something as patently ridiculous as parading around in posh, feminine, rich bimbo clothes. Jake was waiting expectantly in the main living room, but his mouth dropped open in horror as Ralph stepped in, as naked as the day he was born. "What the fuck are you doing!?" He yelled, surprised and shocked. He jumped up and grabbed Ralph by the shoulder, and dragged him back upstairs. Ralph hadn't even managed to let out a single word before Jake started expressing his anger. "What the hell are you playing at? What would people say if they saw you walking around like that - It's disgusting! I mean, you've got an appointment with your beautician in an hour or so, and look at you: You're a mess." Jake didn't stop. Ralph's face went beetroot red, out of the humiliation of being in such a vulnerable condition as well as being talked to like a girl. He was dragged back into the bedroom, where Jake began opening drawers and picking out clothes. He produced a matching lacy bra and panty set, a new packet of sheer, glossy flesh colored pantyhose, a pair of pink pumps with 3 inch heels and a pink knee-high fitted summer dress with buttons at the front. He also picked out a turquoise chiffon wrap, a pair of Jackie-O sunglasses and a large hat that matched the colors of the dress. "Right, that'll do. Now, I want you to go in the shower and shave your body, okay? We can't have anyone seeing your repulsive hairy legs on the way to your beautician, can we?" "But Jake, I've got to talk to you. I can't do it! I just can't do it!!!" He implored. "What are you talking about Rose?" Jake responded. "That's just it! I'm not Rose. I can't wear these clothes. I can't live this lifestyle. " "Don't bullshit me!!! What do you mean, 'can't'? What's the problem? Where the difficulty in dressing up in fancy clothes, drinking champagne all day fucking long? Huh? Tell me, Rose, because I sure don't see any reason why you can't do it." "Well. I'm a man! I think that's a pretty good reason." The words were confident, but the delivery wasn't. Nerves were getting the better of him now, and there was a definite tremor in his voice. "So, what are you saying? That these clothes aren't good enough for you? I mean, you'd happily see my wife in these dresses and skirts?" "Well, she's a woman, you know... " "Oh, so you think you're better than my wife do you? In the entire 10 years we were married I never let her once wear pants, or flat shoes, or even T- shirts. "Do you know what that was like for her? It used to drive her fucking crazy; being kept all dolled up like that. But, that was the price she paid whilst she lived off my money and in my home. "I let her live a life of luxury, and all I wanted in return was for her to look beautiful. "Now, I loved my wife, so tell me, Rose, if you're living in my home, eating my food and spending my money, why the FUCK should I let YOU wear pants, or flats, or T-shirts if I wouldn't let my wife?" A moment of fear struck Ralph head on. This guy had gone from suggesting dressing as a woman to solve his immediate cash-flow crisis to telling him that he wasn't going to be allowed to wear pants or flats. And what did he mean when he said 'drinking champagne all day long', he thought. It was become obvious that Jake had a pretty serious agenda of his own. Did he want him to replace his wife? Probably better to go along with him for now, he thought. Ralph felt certain he was in great danger. "Okay, okay Jake - you win. I'll wear the clothes, wear the makeup - I'll even call myself Rose if you'll just answer a few questions." "Go ahead." "Once I'm dressed up, you're going to want me to stay here living with you, aren't you?" "Well, it's true that I've missed female company since my wife left." "Well, why me? Why not just find a real woman? Surely as a man yourself you must see that no man should never have to suffer the indignity of wearing dresses and skirts? Especially against his will! I don't even know any real girls who wear clothes this feminine day in day out. These clothes aren't real! Normal women have maybe only one outfit that's as posh as these which they use for special occasions, like seducing a new boyfriend, or a job interview, or a wedding. Yeah, woman love this stuff, but they don't want to wear it all the time!" "So, " said Jake, luring Ralph into his trap. "What you're saying in fact, is that dresses, skirts and high-heeled shoes only serve to reinforce a woman's second class status. These clothes exaggerate femininity, thus encouraging men to perceive them as weak, helpless sex objects? Is that what you're saying?" "Well, exactly, I think," Ralph hesitated. "And this isn't really fair is it, after all, just because you're a woman doesn't automatically make you any of those things. Second class, weak, helpless or a sex object. Do you agree?" "Well, yeah, so why am I..." "In the same way, " Jake interrupted "Being a man doesn't automatically make you intelligent, strong and dominant, does it?" Ralph had an inkling of where this was going, but kept with it. In truth he just wanted Jake to go away so he could get some clothes on, feminine or not. "No, it doesn't," he submitted. "Now, back to why I chose you over a real woman - well, Rose, the truth is I didn't, remember. You just dropped into my lap with your damsel in distress routine. "When you've got as much money and resources as me, believe me, the fact that you're male doesn't bother me in the slightest. You can easily change physical appearances. "I'll be honest with you. I've been looking for someone, anyone male or female who'll fit the profile of a weak, helpless, feminine, sex object and general all-round second class citizen. To be honest, my wife was much too good for the life I made for her - too intelligent and strong willed. "You however are a different story. I mean, look at you! You're standing there naked, letting me turn you into my wife! I don't think a real man would stand for that. So, Rose, does that answer your question?" Ralph was devastated. It was as if he'd failed in the 'Male' league, and been relegated to 'Female'. Here he was, being told that he was going to make the perfect bride for this guy because he was more feminine than his real wife was. And this wasn't just idle talk: he'd already removed every single trace of his former existence as a man, and was literally minutes away from being lost in the soft folds of a feminine prison. "So, what? I'm more deeply feminine than any other woman you know?" "Rose... women have changed. Sure, they dress the same as always, but now they've got this built in attitude problem. It's a defence mechanism, like 'I'm wearing a dress so I'll act like a bitch to keep the men away' or you get those that won't wear skirts or dresses at all... You just can't get a real woman anymore - they don't exist. "So when I find a girlie little English boy with a weak, submissive feminine personality and nowhere else to go, believe me when I tell you that I'll spend whatever it takes to get you a body that matches. "You'll be everything I've always wanted in a wife, so I'm afraid that if you won't accept my generous offer, I'm going to have to insist. And believe me, I can be very insistent." "That's really how you see me?" "I've never met anyone more deserving of the gift I'm offering." "You're insane - you know that, don't you?" spat Ralph. "And you're an illegal immigrant, so that makes us even. Now, enough of this talk - go get that shower." Jake gently slapped Ralph on his butt cheeks as he strolled past. It had all been far easier than he could possibly have imagined. He'd actually talked this stupid English kid into thinking that he was, mentally at least, more feminine than his ex-wife. He didn't actually believe that himself at first, but seeing that way the boy just took it, maybe there was some truth. He'd even managed to somehow persuade Ralph that in many ways he belonged in the dresses and the high-heeled shoes more than most real women. Jake was suitably impressed with his performance. Of course, the boy hadn't said 'Yes, you're so right!' but he could see by the body language that he'd touched a raw nerve - a deep-seated neurosis coming into play. The fact that the boy was going to get the clothes on without any further argument said everything. Then again, in his line of work he never did take no for an answer. Thoroughly pleased with himself, he began anticipating the results of Ralph's 'Beautician' appointment. Chapter 4 What Jake hadn't told Ralph was the main reason he'd chosen him: Even without any surgery Ralph was already a dead-ringer for Rose, his very real ex- wife. She'd left him because she couldn't take any more of the rigid femininity he'd imposed on her. True, she never had to perform so-called 'women's work' like cleaning, but despite all the money and funds she had access to she couldn't do simple things like slobbing in front of the television wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She missed her rebellious days in university, and felt bitter resentment towards Jake that her entire life since she married him was nothing more than a living fashion show, a doll brought out at parties to wow the guests. She hated him for making her wear long red dresses just so she'd look perfect lying on top of the grand piano singing to the guests, whilst he played. She hated the vultures she called friends, and even more she hated that she'd lost her real friends the minute she stepped into that first pair of designer high-heels 10 years earlier. She hated that she couldn't take up any sports or hobbies that would jeopardise her feminine perfection status. So, despite the money, the glamor and the power, she still hated him. It was a prison, albeit a seductive one. The day she'd left him he'd picked out a great outfit for her to wear - matching lacy bra and panties, sheer flesh pantyhose, a fitted, knee length, front buttoning pink summer dress with matching hat and 3inch heeled pumps. All finished off with a turquoise chiffon wrap and Jackie 'O Sunglasses. Instead she'd worn a pair of jeans, with sneakers and a plain grey T-shirt. She didn't put any makeup on, and her hair was a mess. There was a row lasting hours, after which she'd finally said "If you men like those fucking clothes so much, get a man to wear them for you, because you're too much of a fucking psycho to be around a real woman. In fact, I bet you could easily get some skinny ass boy to wear that pink dress instead of me." "Rose, that's crazy!" "Is it Jake? A quick trip to the doctors to add tits, take off his dick and feminise his face you'll have a girlie little bimbo with a supermodel figure. The way I see it, any boy stupid enough to let you put him in that pink dress you tried to get me to wear is probably stupid enough to be the feminine little bimbo wife you've always wanted. I tell you now, you'll never find a true woman who'll put up with your shit Jake!" "There's more to a woman that just looks alone. But you're right, I could easily do it." "I'll tell you what Jake - here's the deal. You show me a boy in that pink outfit with tits on his chest, his dick cut off and long blond hair like mine, and I'll show him grace, elegance - the full etiquette routine. Honestly, it'll be worth it if it gets you off my back" "Why are you saying all this Rose. It's just insane!" "Because, you ignorant bastard, I want revenge. "I've spent 10 years wearing nothing but 3 and 4 inch heels when I can't bear them. "I've had to spend an hour every day of my life for those ten years doing my hair and makeup, just to make myself presentable enough to go to the beauty salon. "These are the first jeans I've worn since you threw mine out when we married. Do you have any idea, ANY idea at all what it's like wearing nothing but dresses and skirts for a decade? "The things I've missed out on, the discomfort I've suffered, the unwanted attention, the arrogance of men who thought themselves superior to me simply because you made me dress up to your warped ideals. "Now, I know that I'll never get you in my clothes, because you're too big and ugly. But get an 18-year-old boy in that stupid pink outfit, give him a sex change and I'll finish the job, and if you marry the little sissy, I'll forget the money I'm due from our forthcoming divorce. "If that doesn't tell you how seriously I don't want you to ever fuck about with another woman's life, or how much I need to make someone else go through what you've put me through then nothing will." She concluded. "You're serious aren't you? I never knew how evil you were," said Jake. "I don't expect you'll do it - but I think that the thought of just handing over all your money to me might make you see the benefits of a sexy little home-grown bimbo - a perfectly feminine, weak, helpless wife who'll wear whatever you tell her to, and look better than I do. That would leave us room to run the business together - as partners, as you promised 10 years ago before you got trophy wife syndrome." "Where would I find a weak, submissive, feminine boy? Even then, how could I get him to agree to a sex change purely to be my wife, and not just any wife - the kind of wife you were? It's not practical!" "Don't be lame, Jake. There are millions of weak, pathetic men with no confidence or personality. Let one of them is your dream wife. In fact, I insist." "Rose, will you sign something - to just confirm the deal?" "If you send it to my lawyer Jake, of course. As of now, we're separated". Jake's' first thought was to find a nice piece of ass who'd pretend to have once been a boy. That however wasn't going to work. Rose's solicitors had been explicit about proving that the new Rose was once a boy. To make things worse, they'd added a 'no TV, TG, or TS' clause. That stopped him putting an advert in the paper. Then, by a sheer, sheer stroke of luck he'd caught a glimpse of a slender 18 year old boy who could have been Rose's twin brother. Nothing the surgeon's scalpel couldn't cure. In fact, he mentally added breasts, hair and the pink outfit. It was Rose. Without a doubt. Of course, there was the small matter of getting the English boy to agree, but Jake felt certain that he'd think of something. Take away the boy's passport, for starters. In fact, having the boy robbed of all his possessions would provide just the right excuse to take him back to his home and offer him some help, which is exactly what he did. Now, the real Rose had her own agenda. Whilst the thought of her ex- husband being shacked up with a transsexual amused her greatly, it was the potential for blackmail that really intrigued her. Jake was a powerful, influential man who couldn't afford that kind of public exposure, but also couldn't afford to decline her deal. She had no intention of blackmailing him for money: instead she wanted to be involved in the business that should have been rightly her own. She knew that as Jake's wife, no such 'distraction' or 'stress' would have been tolerated. As a partner however, holding sensitive information, things would be different. She was totally aware of how unnecessary it was for Jake's new bride to be male - any no-brain bimbo would have done to take over her wifely role so she could get on with the serious stuff. But, she thought, it wouldn't have been as much fun. Chapter 5 Ralph was almost desperately afraid as he began shaving his legs. This man had clearly had the intention of him staying in this house, pretending to be his wife since they'd met. He still didn't understand why he didn't just get a real woman. He could think of many, many girls he'd known who'd have loved to have their hands on 'his' new wardrobe. He admitted he didn't know many that would have sacrificed their freedom, independence and jeans for it though. He appreciated that he wasn't expected to be a natural woman - Jake didn't want that - he wanted him to be an almost superwoman, so utterly and perfectly feminine in body and mind that the only way it could be achieved would be to build from scratch. To Ralph, Jake was probably completely crazy, but at least the subject of sex hadn't arisen yet. So long as all that was expected was to wear some clothes and spend some money he'd go along with it, until such time he could collect the resources required to escape. Done. He put down the razor and did a double take in the mirror. This time he really did think 'girlish' as he saw his newly smooth body reflected back at him. He completely regretted the time that he could have spent in a gym. Had he weighed an extra 50 pounds or so he certainly wouldn't be faced with the prospect of becoming a glamorous, feminine wife. He hurried back to the bedroom where his outfit awaited. He eyed it, suspiciously, as if it in some way held some special power. "Okay, Ralph - you can do it. They're only fabric." but he wasn't convinced. He picked up the panties and clumsily stepped into them. 'My God!' he thought, 'I can't feel them!' Shocked at the lightness, but undeterred he continued with the bra. He had difficulty at first, and he really didn't see the point, but Jake had specifically pulled it out for him to put on. He couldn't believe that half the population wore brassieres virtually every moment of their waking adult life. It tugged back his shoulders, but he did notice it fit him okay. Next he decided to put on the pantyhose. He justified it by thinking of them as thin socks, but that was before - once on, it was like his legs were so sensitive that the slightest touch could bring arousal. Dressed in nothing but women's underwear he didn't feel remotely protected from the elements in any way. It occurred to him that even these private garments were purely for show. Next, Ralph put on the dress. As it buttoned at the front he imagined it as a shirt. Not for long though, as the buttons went to his knees. He couldn't believe that that was it! He was fully dressed, and he still felt naked. In fact he found that he rather liked the sensation of the hem of the skirt gently stroking his nyloned legs. The hat was a good idea, because he could pretend he had long hair tied away under it, and the sunglasses avoided any problems with having to worry about eye makeup. Thinking of makeup, he went over to the vanity and did his best to apply some pink lipstick, which he did eventually manage with difficulty. It was then that he remembered the shoes - and not just any shoes. They were pink, to match the rest of the outfit, and they had three-inch heels. He hoped that perhaps they wouldn't fit, but they did. Like a glove. The overall effect was overwhelming. He felt soft and feminine. He could feel himself wanted to hide away, and take up as little space as possible. He understood the urge to stay slim, and most of all the thought of doing anything remotely masculine seemed ridiculous in this outfit. He couldn't believe he was fully dressed - that nothing was missing. It felt, quite correctly, like he'd forgotten to put on his pants. He'd never before worn shoes without putting on socks first. He'd never felt so light and breezy before. It had never occurred to him that menswear was so heavy and crude before. "Well, better get used to it." he thought. ************* Jake couldn't hide his disappointment when Ralph appeared downstairs in the infamous pink dress. He didn't fool himself. "Rose. You look like a boy in a dress, " he observed. "But, we can change that." Ralph was surprised at the reaction - after all that hassle, he wasn't good enough? He almost expected adoring kisses not the cold shoulder. It dawned quickly that this was an opportunity to end the whole sordid affair right away that he wasn't going to pass on. "Hey, I'm sorry Jake. Maybe, you know, this isn't such a good idea after all," Ralph replied, expectantly. Jake's tone softened. "Like I said, Rose, we can change your looks. The main thing is that you're nearly the right height, and the clothes fit. Don't worry about letting me down yet - just think pretty thoughts, and I'll drive you to the Beautician's." "Jake? What exactly are they going to do to me?" He explained as they walked to the car. "The usual I expect, face, hair, body. Just the essentials. Trust me, okay?" Jake eyed his new Rose carefully, for any signs of rebellion, but he looked calm and relaxed. Ralph, on the other hand, felt anything but. "Nothing permanent though, right?" he enquired. "I should be so lucky! No, you'll have to visit once every few days to keep looking perfect," Jake lied. As they left the house Ralph felt that everybody was looking at him. In reality, there was nobody around to look, but that didn't stop him from feeling stupid about not padding his bra. He decided there and then that if he couldn't look like a man it was preferable to look like a woman rather than a boy in a dress. "Let's just get it over with, " Ralph said whilst walking as fast as he could in his heels towards the car. He kept his head down and thanked god for the small mercy of the sunglasses and the hat. He climbed into the car like a man, and instantly regretted giving Jake an eyeful of his underwear that laughed mercilessly. He'd had his first taste of the disadvantages and restrictions of wearing skirts. He realised that the slightest imperfection in the way he walked, sat, or just about any other movement he had taken for granted would make him look clumsy, drunk or just plain ridiculous. Still, after the initial shock the clothes were becoming comfortable. Even the tight bra, he imagined, would be missed when removed. He observed that whilst the clothes themselves were attractive and comfortable, the restrictions they imposed on the wearer completely counteracted it. He began to empathise with his ex-girlfriend who'd said she'd only wear a dress if they buried her in one. If only he'd understood then what it really, really meant to wear clothes like this then, he thought - maybe he wouldn't have pushed her away. Jake was clearly more practised at persuading his woman to dress the way he wanted, and now Ralph was on the receiving end. He only hoped that the Beautician would be skilled enough to take away the sense of public humiliation he was currently feeling, looking like nothing more than a boy, in a dress. Chapter 6 "Okay, you can leave her with us now, Jake. We'll phone you as soon as she's done." The woman who'd greeted them when they arrived at the clinic smiled warmly at Ralph, which he returned. "The next time I see you, Rose, I expect you to be the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. You hear me?" Jake said, with a playful tone. "I don't see I've got much choice, Jake." "Don't worry. We'll make sure that no-one will ever believe she was once a boy." "Well, you'd better!" He pecked Ralph on the cheek. "Bye Rose. Have fun." And with that he left. "Let's get started straight away shall we? We need to do some blood tests, to make sure you're not allergic to any of the chemicals we use. Follow me, honey!" She said. Ralph jealously noted that she was wearing a white tunic with white pants. In fact, she looked more like a nurse than any kind of beautician. Maybe, he thought, that's what the most expensive places were like. 'Shit! She's wearing pants!' He thought excitedly. He realised that with Jake gone, he didn't actually have to stay. He could ask for their help, borrow some acceptable clothes, and run away! He wished he'd thought of it sooner, because by now he was already having a needle plunged into his arm. "What's that?" He asked. "It's a very powerful sedative that'll make sure you don't try and back out of your obligations to our client, honey." "What?" He felt himself becoming sleepy and disorientated. "...what's are you going to do to me?.." "Well honey, you're getting the best boob job money can buy. You're also getting an intensive course of female hormones during your stay here, as well as the very latest testosterone neutralising treatments. We'll be implanting time release capsules under your skin which will release constantly large doses of female sex hormones for the next three years, then a normal woman's supply for the next two. This is essential, honey, because without your penis and little balls there, you'll have no natural means to produce any hormones of your own." "..no..." Ralph breathlessly uttered. "Oh, don't worry about losing that ugly little thing. Your new vagina will have a fully functional clitoris, and you'll be able to get wet when you're aroused. You'll love it, believe me honey. "...You can't do this.. to .. me.." "Oh, Darling that's just the start. We're going to re-sculpt most of the bones in your body... I bet you didn't know we could do that, did you?" "Okay, so it'll take six months, but when our doctors are done you'll have a girls bone structure - you'll be 3 inches shorter, you'll have hips that'll give you a butt that sticks out, as well as giving your legs that all important 'Y' shape. "Do you know what that means, honey? Well, you won't be able to run or play sports anymore, but when you walk you won't be able to stop elegantly swinging that cute bubble ass of yours. You won't be comfortable sitting down without crossing your legs, but I think you'll find that you'd cross your legs anyway, wearing clothes like that. "And don't forget the other little details, Rose - we're talking small hands, female shoulders and neck, feminine arms, and most importantly of all, you'll have a face that'll make grown men weep." "..please... don't do this... I don't want.. to be a woman.." Ralph pleaded. "Well, honey, excuse me! What's so wrong with being a woman?" "...No! I don't...mean that... it's just I'm a man.." "If you're such a big, hard man what are you doing wearing those clothes?" She demanded. "...He told me to... wear them.. I didn't.. know.. he wanted me to...really become a woman!" Ralph was becoming increasing exhausted. "You let a man tell you to wear that pretty little pink dress? You agreed to wear those shoes too? Hell, honey, you're more feminine than I am! I wouldn't be seen dead wearing bullshit fuck-me clothes like that!" "..please.. don't do this to me..." Ralph implored, one last time. "Too late, sweetie. Your Fiance paid in advance". And with that he faded into unconsciousness. **************** During the following months at the clinic, there were only a few moments of clarity for Ralph. He was completely suspended in a large tank of liquid, with pipes for air and liquid food going down his mouth. Apparently the bone treatment involved nearly liquidising his current bones, and setting them in their new positions and shapes. Thankfully he was awake for the very, very briefest of moments during the treatment. During those glimpses he saw the rough edges of his masculine bones soften and fade, to be replaced with growing breasts and hips. In this stop- motion world he witnessed himself shrinking, thinning, softening. After what seemed like a matter of hours to Ralph, he noticed his penis had just disappeared - it was there in the last frame, and now simply gone. He panicked, and began trying to swim out of the tank, but it was obvious they'd sedated him almost immediately. Then, finally, he woke up dry. The tubes were gone from his mouth, and he felt alert. He knew he was going to have to examine the damage, but strangely he knew what to expect. He immediately noticed how soft and smooth his skin now was. Then he saw his hands. They were slender, elegant creations that he felt were too fragile for anything other than the lightest of tasks. Looking around the room, he saw that they'd provided him with a full- length mirror. With trepidation, he climbed out of the bed to confront his own image, to beg it to offer him some small evidence of his former life. It offered no comfort. Instead of thinking 'girlish' as he usually did at his reflection, he this time thought 'Extremely attractive Woman'. There wasn't a single element that spoilt the picture. He had real women's hips and breasts. His waist was tiny, and his legs together formed that 'Y' shape that he himself had so desired in his own girlfriends. He was sure they were much longer than before, and this was confirmed when he realised his upper body had shrunk enormously except in one vital area - breasts. He had a beautifully shaped C cup - he correctly guessed that anything larger would conflict with the classy European supermodel look Jake obviously so desired. His face was an image of perfection - they'd done his nose, his jaw, and his whole skull. They'd put collagen in his lips, and finished the whole look with straight long blond hair. So, physically, they'd certainly made him a woman. Further proof came when he examined the area once occupied by his dick. He saw, to his amazement, that he had a perfectly constructed set of female genitals. He fiddled with it with this finger, and was shocked to feel a tingle of sexual awakening. It was sensitive, and he noticed that it had already become a little moist from that touch alone. It was like being terminal diagnosed, or having a limb removed - he knew how irreversible the treatment had been. He had underestimated Jake's' claims about being able to make him look like a girl, and had paid the price. It was simply inconceivable that such a devastatingly profound sex change operation was possible. He felt trapped and scared, and immediately began falling into shock. Panic stricken, he or more correctly, dear reader, she, couldn't think clearly at all. She began pacing around the room, desperately trying to devise a method of escape, or returning to his former self. "Birth certificate," A voice came from behind her. "Jake!" Rose, as she will now be known, could say no more. She was filled with a rage and despair unlike anything she'd ever felt. Jake handed the still naked Rose the piece of paper. "Drivers' licence. Passport. Credit cards..." he continued, handing them over as he spoke. "...I'm afraid you didn't graduate from school in this life, but I won't hold it against you." "How could you do this to me?" Rose spoke, quietly, almost hoping she wouldn't be heard. "Well Rose, if I have to marry a transsexual to get out of paying my ex- wife close to 2 billion dollars, then I'm going to marry the most beautiful, most convincing one that ever lived. And Honey? That's you. You know, you and her are like twin sisters... it's quite amazing..." "You fucking bastard", Rose mouthed, eyes to the ground. "...Except don't tell Rose, Rose, but you're just that little bit extra. Everything about you is perfect, or have you already noticed?" "Your ex-wife is called Rose too? What kind of.." "Oh no, don't worry - she's calling herself Clare now. Now that I've got a new improved Rose to step into her shoes, she's free to join me as a partner in my business. Like I said before, she was completely wasted in your new role. I almost feel guilty for the life I made for her." Jake did look sincere. "But what about me... what about my life?" Said Rose, close to tears. "Rose - you'll carry on where the old Rose left off - you'll look beautiful at absolutely ALL times, and you'll serve me as a wife and my guests as a hostess. I'm not going to feel guilt about that, because that is your limit. It's who you are, especially now you look like you do. Tell me, what else could you do? On your own you'll have two choices without a college degree - marry some other guy, or go and be some cheap hooker or actress. After the money I've spent on you, I'll be damned if some other guy's gonna get his hands on you, so that leaves you with two choices - riches and luxury, or slums and cocksucking?" "Just know - I'll never love you. I'll never be your willing wife, no matter what you do to me." "I don't give a flying fuck Rose, just as long as you do what you're told, " Jake warned. "You're a bastard Jake, you know that?" "And you're a bitch, so get used to it. Okay, I'm going to leave you to get dressed now. I'll be outside." Jake left Rose feeling even more dazed and confused. She had often wondered, as Ralph, what must go through the minds of criminals at the moment when they are sentenced and taken immediately to jail - no pause, no 'have a cup of coffee' first, and no chance of escape. Now she knew - now she had felt the awful inescapablility of her situation. Maybe that's why it took the original Rose 10 years to leave - would it take her the same? She scanned the room and saw to no great surprise the dress she'd been wearing when she'd first arrived at the clinic. The rest of the outfit was there too, folded neatly on a chair. In addition, there was a large gold hair clip, with hand-scrawled instructions to use it to tie back her hair in a loose ponytail so that it would hang elegantly from underneath her hat. Unexpectedly, putting on the panties this time caused greater feelings of dread than the first time. Endowed with this new body, she knew that she would certainly be wearing these flimsy garments for as long as she lived, whether she liberated herself from Jake or not. They felt more comfortable with her new butt and no 'tackle' rubbing against the lace. All the clothes she was about to wear were no longer the opposite sexes - they were designed exclusively not only for her female body shape, but to enhance, exaggerate, and draw attention to it. The bra, previously a pointless curiosity and object of desire was now an essential garment, a burden she shared with all the other women of the world. She knew that she had been lucky to have been born a carefree male, and regretted taking that time for granted. She'd always thought that being a man couldn't be revoked - once God had decided your fate, He couldn't just change His mind, could He? How cruel a world to allow her the knowledge of being male then trap her in a female body, and a feminine lifestyle alien to virtually all born women! As before, she put on the pantyhose. This time, the feelings of heightened sensitivity were even greater, and the effect visually on her legs was amazing. Next came the dress, and this time the effect on Rose was devastating. She watched herself buttoning it up, noticing how it perfectly accommodated her breasts, showing ample cleavage. The waistline followed her own perfectly, and the skirt flared, pushed out by her butt. It seemed much shorter this time, and any bending over would cause the hemline to rise up even higher than when she had worn it as a man. Surely no one can be expected to spend *all* their time dressed like this, she thought with some fear. She missed her old clothes, even more now that they wouldn't fit, and that they'd be useless as hiding the young woman she was. The most insulting and degrading items were the shoes - they were nothing more than a 3 inch heel, a thin almost invisible sole, and two bands of pink material holding them to her foot. Another thinner pink band wrapped round her ankles. They made her legs look another 3 inches longer. She instinctively had to stick out her breasts, throw back her shoulders and stick out her butt just to stand comfortably, if you could call it that. They made her deliberately and unwillingly pose in a seductively feminine manner for the whole time she would wear them. Because her whole shoe collection had heels this tall, and taller, it meant that she would permanently be posed elegantly and attractively. There was to be no hiding of her figure. Looking in the mirror once more her reflection screamed the truth of her beauty. To finish off, she put on the sunglasses and the hat and left the room to meet Jake. **** In the car driving home, they began chatting. "You look amazing... I'm so glad you finally realised what a sexy outfit that is!" Jake yelled. Finally, his princess had returned, and he intended to pretend she'd never been away. "er..." "You remember? When you came down those stairs wearing those repulsive Jeans, I nearly had a heart attack! You know how awful those things look on you!" "What are you talking about Jake? The last time I saw a pair of Jeans was just before we met!" she offered, confused. "Okay, okay Rose - I'll forgive and forget too. Pretend it never happened. Just promise not to do that again - you've got all the clothes a beautiful rich woman like you could ever want or need, so why you'd want to wear some disgusting denim, I'll never understand." "You're so right Jake, " began Rose sarcastically, but forgetting to sound like it, "I can't think of a single occasion where I would need to wear pants instead of a skirt! At least, not an occasion I would like to attend, Darling!" "Honey!" enthused Jake, not realising Rose true intentions, "Do you first remember when I told you to throw away all your pants and flats? You said 'I'd love to look beautiful for you all the time, but it's just not practical to wear dresses and heels day in, day out!' "No," puzzled Rose. Jake was clearly trying to somehow use the same arguments on her as he had with the original Rose. Arguments so powerful she had surrendered herself completely to a life of high fashion and femininity for the sole purpose of pleasing her husband. The same arguments that caused her to drop all her ambitions and hopes to instead devote herself to looking as beautiful as possible for him. "And I said, 'as the wife of one of the richest businessmen in this country, you'll never do any cleaning, cooking, gardening, or anything that'll ever cause you to get dirty. And as you don't like sport, what possible use will you have for those horrible K-Mart clothes anyway?' Do you remember what you said?" he asked. "No, go on. What did I say?" Jake laughed remembering. "You said 'what if I just want to relax?' and so I told you 'that's what bathrobes are for!' You were so worried about feeling overdressed or people thinking you were overdressed wearing heels and designer dresses around the home!" "Well, I had a point there - I don't know any women...." "...You didn't know any other woman who wore designer dresses to watch Wheel of Fortune, " Jake interrupted. "That's when I pointed out that, yes, women with poor husbands didn't wear 3 inch heels to watch TV but neither did woman with rich husbands - because woman with rich husbands don't watch TV!" Jake laughed out loud at his twisted logic. "Didn't I miss watching TV? What about all the other things I did before we met? Surely those interests didn't just disappear overnight?" Rose had buried a message within the seemingly innocent question. "Yes, but if you recall Darling, you wound up being so busy meeting your friends, entertaining and shopping for new clothes that you didn't even have time to remember what those old interests were! Then, after a year or two, not only had you completely adjusted to looking fabulous dawn till dusk, you used to tell me that you were grateful I'd made you do it, as you were so worried about what your friends would think if they thought you were just some common housewife, not the rich, elegant lady of leisure you've are now. "Besides, you know your tastes, young lady! I can't even imagine you going into a shop where they sold anything that cost less than $500, never mind jeans." Christ, thought Rose. Jake really thinks he's doing me a favor - or at least he's convinced himself he has. And so the arguments carried on, all in the form of remembering previous conversations - a unique device Jake used to argue a point whilst ensuring the argument was already won. Not once did the subject of self- respect or dignity come up. Not once did he acknowledge her rights of choice as a human being. He simply took the view that women dressing in impractical, degrading clothes that made them useless for everything except looking pretty and fucking was the socially accepted viewpoint - it was what the world expected. Rose was trying to see some hope. She desperately wanted to be able to willingly accept this life of femininity, but was unable. She knew that with her new body, and absolutely nothing to tie her to any former life, she was completely bound to him. There would be no escape, no reprieve, no rest, no appeal and no mercy. It was as if Jake was incapable of acknowledging that his idea of a dream-life for a wife had sprung from his own imagination, not from the needs of a real woman. The truth was subtly different: Jake simply knew that as long as his wife strove to live up to impossibly high levels of feminine perfection, he would remain her mental superior. The more feminine she became, the more masculine he would seem as a consequence. Because submissiveness is a characteristic of extreme femininity, so his ability to dominate would increase. And the greater his dominance, the more femininity and ultimately the more of his will he could impose on her. It was a question of control, and already Jake had the remote well and truly in his hands. Chapter 7 They arrived back at the house a little time later. Jake looked at Rose as if he'd forgotten to mention something crucially important. "Rose," he started. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of telling your friends that you've been away on doing modelling in Europe." "Okay, whatever." "No, you don't understand. I don't want them to know you're back until you're ready to see them, okay?" "Right, whatever you say Jake." "Don't worry - you'll meet them all soon. However, I've got someone else I need you to meet first," Jake informed. "Okay Jake, sure," Rose agreed. I was better not to argue, or protest. They left the car, and entered the house. Jake led them both to the main living room. He peered in first, looked around, smiled and invited Rose in. There was another woman sitting there, watching the television. As Jake spoke, it was turned off. "Clare, meet Rose and Rose meet Clare." Rose looked at the woman in disbelief. She was her exact double; almost a twin sister except she was wearing Levi's. So Jake really had turned her into an almost exact replica of his former wife! After the initial shock, Rose began to realise that she wasn't just a clone - Clare's legs weren't as long, her face not as pretty and in general Clare's whole physical appearance wasn't quite the perfection of womanhood Rose had become. Clare's mouth, in the meantime, dropped open. To see her double, albeit even more feminine and elegant than she'd ever been, was a complete shock. He'd actually done it! The stupid bastard had really managed to get some poor boy to take over her former role, and endure a complete sex change! And not just any sex change - this treatment seemed to have extinguished any trace of masculinity on a genetic level so profoundly complete it was. How did he do it? She had believed Jake, even if he even attempted it, would be unable to persuade a non-TG boy to submit to his wishes. A small tear of sympathy came to her eye. She had made an extremely ill thought out deal. She remembered the pain the constriction during her time as Jake's wife, and now seeing that this poor boy was going to have to live that life so that she could be free, she cried for him. How could she have failed to realise Jake would have gone through anything, at whatever cost, to get his wife back and hand over his fortune? She was personally responsible for destroying this boy's life. Guilty, she spoke. "Rose. I'm sorry." Rose too began to cry, although held back at first. "Jake. Fuck off and leave us alone!" yelled Clare. Jake did as commanded, shrugging his shoulders. "Do you know what you've done, you crazy bastard?! I can't believe you did it. I mean, really did it!" "Help me Clare," Rose sobbed, but Clare hushed her. She got up out of the shoulder and they both hugged each other, tightly until they were both crying with all their hearts. It was hard for them to let go, but they did and sat down next to each other on the sofa. "Come on, Rose. Let's go take a drive," Clare suggested. Rose agreed, and so they sneaked out of the house, into Clare's car. They started talking when they'd left the house out of sight." "Rose. I'm so sorry for what's happened to you. In many ways it's my fault," began Clare. "What do you mean?" "Well, the day I left Jake I was so mad at him that I made him a deal - You see, I'd wanted a partnership in the business he runs, because it had been my idea in the first place. I knew that I couldn't be anywhere Jake whilst he didn't have a replacement for me as his wife - otherwise he'd start trying to get me to wear his stupid clothes again and expecting me to submit to his every demand. "I didn't just want him to shack up with another woman, because then he'd win no matter what. So, I told him that I'd forget the pre-nuptial contract if he turned a boy into a girl and married him. "I said that he had to present this boy to me wearing the same outfit that he'd wanted me to wear the day I left - the one you're wearing now. I also agreed to help you adjust to this new life, if that's what you want Rose - I can teach you how to behave like a real woman. I can give you all the info on my old friends and Jake so that you can carry on completely where I left off. I can teach you hair and makeup, although you'll find a daily trip to a beauty salon will help. "Most importantly though, I can teach you how to deal with your new life. Believe me, you'll spend your nights crying in your bed until you learn to think like the bimbo Jake wants you to be. I suppressed all my desires, urges and needs and devoted myself utterly to him and his wishes. It's not easy, but it can be done." "Can you help me escape...I mean, lend me a pair of Jeans or something?