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The Perfect Compromise by suki My wedding day was less than three weeks away and I had to do something. For some time I had been brainwashed into believing I could happily live the rest of my life as another man's wife. Surely my new body looked the part. As I glanced down at my breasts and hips, my shapely arms and legs, and then up into the mirror at the alterations that had permanently formed my mouth into a sexy pout I could not deny that the trouble they had taken with me had been quite successful. Still, I was certain that if I could escape in time perhaps the changes might not be altogether irreversible. My intended had admittedly peculiar tastes when it came to women and it had been his express wish that I not be castrated. So long as I was intact, I figured, I had a chance to reclaim my old life. But I had to hurry. Tonight I had decided was the night. I excused myself early from the small family gathering downstairs and retired to my own private bedroom. Dr. and Mrs. Darlington did not seem suspicious of my early departure. Jesse, my fiancee, offered to take me upstairs. I thanked him for his consideration but told him it wouldn't be necessary. Tara nodded at me almost imperceptibly from where she sat in the corner as if to say "so far so good." I complained of a slight headache and they all took my complaint at face-value. I told them that all the wedding plans had me feeling a bit harried. Dr. Darlington nodded understandingly. No doubt he was thinking that the accelerated hormone treatments I'd been given were more than a minor contributing factor. He advised me to take two aspirin and put a warm compress over my face. I thanked him and smiled prettily. I was not above flirting with the distinguished-looking older man even if he was my fiancee's father. They all wished me a goodnight. Mrs. Darlington said she would come up later to see how I was doing. I thanked her, knowing I should be long gone by then. I gave them a little wave and headed down the long hallway to the stairs that led to my bedroom in the north wing of the mansion. They turned back and resumed their conversation, sipping expensive brandy from even more expensive snifters. At this point, they were so sure that I had accepted my new identity and my role as their future daughter-in-law that they no longer kept a close eye on me and I pretty much had the run of the large plantation-style mansion. I had given them no cause for suspicion. Over the past few months since I'd come here I had gradually given up my resistance in the face of the overwhelming changes wrought upon my once male body. But now, at the eleventh hour, something inside had clicked and I realized I had to get out of here and fast--or it would be all over for me for certain. I stripped off the filmy peignoir I was wearing, kicked off my mules, and headed for my closet. As I pushed aside dresses, gowns, nighties, and the like I suddenly realized that I had no practical clothes to wear for an escape into the night. I don't know why it didn't occur to me before. Since I came here I hadn't had so much as a pair of women's jeans to wear. I stood staring forlornly at the closet, finally yanking out a pair of yellow culottes and a matching tank top. They would have to do. Shoes were just as big a problem. The Darlington's hadn't provided me with anything that didn't have at least a three-inch heel on it. Well, I thought, barefoot it is. At least I wouldn't make any noise. I crept down the stairs and kept to the shadows. Down the hall I could see the light of the living room and hear them talking. I made my way to the front door, held my breath, and turned the knob. So far so good. Then I slipped into the night and to what I hoped would be my freedom. I stepped quickly down the flower-lined path, passed the swimming pool, and the dark tennis courts. I skirted the fountains with their ornate statuary and headed for a grove of shadowy pine trees about a hundred yards away over an open field of perfectly manicured grass. I had learned to walk fairly well on my surgically-altered feet, taking small quick steps, and keeping up on my toes just like I did when I was wearing heels. I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I saw the pines just ahead and beyond them the gate that led to freedom. I clutched the special pass card that Tara had given me earlier that evening. Just one swipe over the special identity plate and the gate would swing open and then... Dogs barking! God did they let the dogs out at night? I had never been out unescorted here at night before. The sound of the barking was getting closer. I fumbled the card, nearly dropping it in the grass, and started running as quickly as my hobbled feet would allow. I zig-zagged my way through the tall, stately, ancient pines and burst out into the opening on the other side. The stone-and-iron gate was only twenty yards away. It had been a long time since I'd run and quite frankly I no longer had the body I once had so I was quite winded by the time I got to the gate. Gasping for breath, trembling, I swiped the card over the sensor and waited for the gate to swing open. Nothing. My heart was pounding wildly. I could hear the dogs entering the stand of pines. Maybe I had the card upside down...maybe...maybe... Suddenly the entire area was flooded with light. I stood paralyzed. The dogs burst from the shadows of the pines, lips bared, tongues hanging from the corners of their mouths. These were the same dogs I had often stroked absently while lying by the pool. The same dogs that had followed me while I walked about the grounds with Jesse or by myself. Now I realized that they were not my dogs. They were Darlington dogs. And I was their prey. They formed a loose circle around me, barking, their eyes feral in the fluorescent lights. I stood there paralyzed, my hands in the air, afraid even to move my hand to swipe the card again for fear one of the dogs would leap towards me and take hold of my wrist. Just then the pack fell silent. And out of the pines came Dr. Darlington and my fiancee Jesse. They didn't say a word to me but I could see the profound look of disappointment on their faces. Dr. Darlington said something quietly to the dogs and they turned as one back towards the kennel. Then he looked up at me. "Let's get back inside Jenna," he said. He turned without waiting for an answer. Jesse looked at me a moment longer before he followed his father to the house. It had been a stupid thing to do--trying to run away. I realized that now. There was no way I could ever have escaped. Not in this body. I followed them meekly back to the main house. When I got there Mrs. Darlington wouldn't even meet my eyes. "Mom--" I started. "Please I'm sorry I--" She turned and walked away and with her I knew went my last hope of remaining even partially a man. "Dr. Darlington I'm begging you please...it wont happen again...I donut know what came over me...I guess I'm just nervous about the wedding and all...please..." He wasn't listening to me. Instead he turned to Jesse and said simply, "Get the operating room ready." Panicked, I turned to Tara. She just sat there with a triumphant smile on her face. God, I should have known better than to trust her. "Oh god please no, please--" I began to beg. Never before had I felt so helpless. These people had decided to take away the last remnant of my former manhood and I was too weak to stop them. They had already made me half a woman. Now they would finish the job. Dr. Darlington prepared the needle, pulled down my culottes and panties, swabbed and stuck my buttocks. I didn't resist. It would have only made it worst. A few moments later I was lying on the table in the operating room in the basement of the Darlington's mansion. Dr. Darlington's masked face appeared above me. Beside him I could see the look of concern in Jesse's eyes just above his own mask. "Count backward from a hundred," Dr. Darlington said. "100, 99, 98, 97, 9....." I guess I should start at the beginning. *** I was jogging up the same wooded road I did every morning at that hour. The sun was just coming up above the trees and the cicadas were starting their whirring cry. It was going to be a hot day. I wiped my brow, my long shiny black hair tied back in a pony tail, and took a sip from my water bottle. I was wearing a small tank top cut away at the waist and tiny red running shorts. I told myself that I wore such brief attire in order to ward off the heat but I couldn't deny the element of vanity involved. After all, I worked hard to keep my body in shape and to be quite honest I liked showing it off. It always got me going when a carload of girls from the local college would slow down beside me. They would lean out the windows whistling and waving and daring me to catch up before speeding up the hill into town. That hill was in front of me now: two miles of steep asphalt climbing into the summer trees. I steeled myself for the challenge ahead. If not for some bad luck along the way, I probably would have been attending college too. But my folks died when I was young and I'd been shuttled from one foster family to another. There aren't too many families willing to adopt an eleven-year-old boy. Whatever money my parents might have been able to save for me were consumed by the social welfare agencies charged with my care. I'm not complaining. There are plenty worse off than me. I had a steady job at one of those big chain hardware stores and a decent apartment. I didn't have a regular girlfriend and quite frankly I didn't want one. I was having too much fun playing the field with the girls who came down from the college. Sometimes it wasn't that easy. I had just gotten out of a messy situation with a girl who'd wanted something more than just a good hot time. To be honest, I have no idea what she saw in me beyond my looks. I definitely wasn't in her league. She was smart as a whip and drop-dead gorgeous. She came from someplace down south, from a distinguished family with old money. There was simply no way they were going to accept a high-school graduate with a name-tag from the local lumber yard as a son- in-law. I tried to explain that to her but she wouldn't hear of it. Finally, I had to make it clear in the most explicit way possible. I let her see me with another girl. It wasn't heartlessness on my part; really, I believed it was the best thing for her. She was devastated but I knew she would come to realize over time that I was right. We simply weren't made for each other. We were from two different worlds. All I had done was hasten the inevitable. And saved her from an even deeper heartbreak somewhere further down the road. So I put her behind me and went back to dating more practical girls-- the kind who had their eyes on the bigger prize and figured me good for just a brief roll in the hay. I didn't mind being used this way. In fact, that was the way I liked it. I was having the time of my life. I looked up the hill beyond which the college was located and started my climb. That's when I heard the car slow down behind me. Actually, when I turned around, I saw that it wasn't a car but one of those tan mini mobile homes. The mobile home pulled alongside me and we climbed up the hill together. At first I thought the hill was just too steep for the vehicle to take at speed but then I realized that whoever was driving was purposely keeping pace with me. I was beginning to get a little annoyed--if not a little nervous. Of course there wasn't much crime to speak of in that quiet New Hampshire town. Maybe the worst that might happen would be that some kids might steal someone's mailbox or paint a mustache on a lawn jockey just for a lark. There were no "bad" parts of town and no underprivileged class. Actually, if there were an underprivileged class in that town I guess I would probably have qualified. On top of that it was broad daylight--well maybe not broad daylight-- but a warm sunny morning in early summer on a major road. What could go wrong? Still there was a vague sense of uneasiness as the mobile home tracked me for another thirty yards or so. I thought of stopping or turning off into the woods when the vehicle pulled to a stop and whoever was inside rolled down the tinted window. I immediately felt like a fool. An older woman struggling with a map looked out at me with a helpless expression on her face. "Son can you please help us?" I slowed to a stop and took a step towards the mobile home. She may have been old but you could tell even through the wrinkles the years had left behind that she had once been quite attractive. Actually she was still quite attractive for a woman her age. Her high cheekbones framed a pair of startlingly clear blue eyes and her hair was cut in a fashionable bob and tinted a faded blonde. I briefly imagined my mother might have looked something like this if she hadn't died so young. "What's the matter?" I said, walking up to the window. "We seem to be lost," the woman said, looking worried. It was a kind of forlorn helpless look that made me immediately want to help her. I tried to sound as optimistic as possible. "Well what are you looking for? I've lived near and around here for most of my life." She turned to the driver. "See I told you he would help us. I knew he looked like a nice young man. Honestly Albert I don't know why you are so stubborn sometimes." I stared into the mobile home and barely made out the dark profile of an older gentleman I took to be her husband. The woman turned back to me and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said. "But Albert can be such an old-fashioned man. He just won't stop and ask for directions." I smiled diplomatically. I didn't want to get in the middle of a squabble between them. Instead I asked again where they were going. The old woman gave me the name of a street I never heard of and I could see the worry again on her face when she saw my puzzled expression. I asked her to repeat the street name just to make sure I'd heard it right. I had. "Can I see your map for a second?" I asked. "Surely," she said. "Let me hold your water bottle for you." I handed her the bottle and took hold of the map. I scoured the maze of squiggly lines thinking that perhaps whatever road they were looking for was perhaps called something else by us locals. Sometimes it happened like that. Maps were never one hundred percent accurate. I really didn't want to disappoint the old lady's confidence in me so I probably took much longer than I should have. At last I was forced to admit I was stumped. I handed her back the map and asked her some more questions, hoping that something she said would offer a clue. After a few minutes of fruitless questioning, I had to give up. "I'm sorry," I said. "Well thank you anyway dear," the old lady said. "You certainly tried your best." I heard the man beside her say something I couldn't quite make out. The old lady turned towards him briefly and then back to me. "Can we at least offer you a lift up the hill into town." "No thanks," I said. "I'm going to run it." "Oh my," she said. "Its terribly hot out for that." "Water," the man at the wheel said. "Excuse me?" I said, peering into the mobile home at the shadowy figure behind the wheel. "Drink some water," the old man grumbled. He was tall and distinguished looking, sitting ramrod straight behind the wheel of the mobile home, a mane of silver hair brushed back from his head. "You look like you may be suffering from incipient heat stroke." I laughed. "I'm used to it," I said. "I run this hill every day." "Be that as it may," he said. "You look extremely pale. You should have some water." The sun had come up a bit and it was growing warmer but I felt fine. "You should listen to him dear. Albert is a doctor. Why don't you just take a sip of water? I'm sure you'll feel better." I shrugged. I needed to hydrate myself for the climb up the hill anyway. I lifted the plastic bottle and squirted a long stream of water down my throat. Of course it seems obvious to me now that she must have put something into my water bottle when I gave it to her in exchange for the map. At the time, who would have guessed? "There," I said and smiled. "Good boy," the old woman said. I waved and started up the road. The mobile home stayed close behind me and I just figured they were driving slowly because they were still lost. I didn't get more than twenty yards when I considered myself lucky that they hadn't driven off in a hurry. My first thought was that the doctor was right. I must have been suffering from heat stroke. My eyesight grew dim and I could feel myself staggering towards the right off the shoulder of the road. It was as if I didn't have any control over my body whatsoever. I felt myself slow to a stop, crouch down, and touch my fingertips to the hot pavement for support. "Oh my are you okay," I heard the old woman call out. "No---uhmmm...I think...." I could hardly form the words. "Oh lordy," she said. "Albert pull beside him. He's terribly ill." I felt the shadow of the mobile home fall over me. "Help me Albert..." I felt hands reaching for me as I tried to stagger to my feet. After no little commotion I found myself sitting in the front seat of the mobile home. It seemed to me that the air conditioning was turned on too high and I started to shaking. "Are you cold you poor thing?" the old woman asked. She was standing behind my chair as her husband pulled the mobile home back onto the road. "I'll go in back and fetch you a sheet." "What happened?" I say, my head clearing momentarily. "Nearly passed out that's what happened," the elderly man said. "Damn fool thing to do. Run in this heat." I wasn't crazy about being called a damn fool but I didn't have the energy to argue the point one way or another. "Have some more water," he said. "Are you really a doctor?" "Surgeon. Retired," he said. "Practiced for forty-five years. Long enough to recognize a damn fool when I see one. Have some more water." His words might have been harsh but his tone was gentle and I could hear his concern. I lifted the bottle of water which had somehow remained in my hand throughout this whole ordeal and took another sip. The old woman came back up with the blanket and laid it over me. "Thank you," I said. I was shaking violently now. I could feel my teeth chattering. I wanted to tell them to turn off the airconditioner but I knew it must have been just me. The old woman touched my face with her finger. "You have nice skin. Doesn't she Albert?" She? I thought. Must?ve heard her wrong. "Yes. Should be a pleasure to work with." Work with? "What's your name dear?" "Huh..." I said. "Uh--my name...um...Jason..." "You have very nice eyes Jenna." Jenna?! What was she talking about? "Are you asian?" "Mother japanese, father irish/italian..." I said. "Where are we going?" "You are very beautiful, very exotic." It took every bit of strength I had left to turn my head toward the old man behind the wheel. The van had picked up speed and I felt sick to my stomach. The trees by the side of the road were whipping passed us. "Where are we going?" I asked again. The old man just ignored me. "God," I said, my words slurring. "I really don't feel well." "Have some water," the old lady said. I tried to take a sip but the thought of it made me feel nauseous. "She wont drink," she said to her husband. Her tone was no longer sweet, but crisp and matter-of-fact. "Don't worry," the old man said. "She'll be out soon. Call Jesse up here and have him take her in the back." I heard her call out and then felt myself being lifted from under my arms out of the chair. Whoever it was he was big and he was strong. He lifted me as if I were a ragdoll. I was as limp as one to be sure. I tried to get my legs under me to walk but it was hopeless. He scooped me up and carried me to a small bunk in the back. There the old lady proceeded to take off my sneakers and socks. I tried to twist away. "Sssh," she said. "Just want to make you more comfortable dear. Hmm," she said. "Naturally hairless. Tara you were right. She is perfect." Tara? I tried to lift my head. I was only able to raise it an inch or so. But that was just enough to see Tara's smiling face. I felt two more hands, large and heavy, on the waistband of my shorts. "Nooo!" I moaned loudly. "Hey keep her quiet back there," the old man called back from up front. The woman slapped away the hand on my shorts. "Not yet Jesse," she said laughing. "Hands off until the wedding." Wedding? Had Tara told these people I had taken advantage of her? Were they going to make me marry her? I was trying to make sense of the word even as I slipped into unconsciousness. *** When I came to it was dark inside the van. Not knowing where I was at first I panicked and found myself bound hand and foot to the bunk. There was something in my mouth, some kind of rubber ball, and I couldn't speak. Slowly my mind recalled the bizarre series of events that brought me here. I could feel the speed of the mobile home as it moved through the darkness and hear the rhythmic hum of road beneath tires. Wherever we were, traveling at this speed, must be far from where I'd been abducted I thought sadly. There was a rough cloth blanket covering my body which I could tell was naked underneath. I realized to my chagrin that I had to urinate extremely badly. Probably from all that damn drugged water, I thought ruefully. Well, at least it was leaving my system. I gurgled incoherently to what I now perceived as a human form in the darkness, sitting just outside the cone of a small reading lamp. "Mother," Tara said. "Looks like she's awake." "Go see what she wants Jesse." I turned my throbbing head and saw a shape in the darkness matching the a shape emerging out of the darkness. Jesse came towards me and I felt a sick dread building inside my stomach. Perhaps it would have been better to pretend to still be asleep. Then again I would never find out anything that way. There was a chance, however remote, that if I could only talk to them I might be able to bargain myself out of this. I couldn't make out much of Jesse except that he was big and good- looking, maybe a few years older than me. He had the same sandy hair and blue eyes as his sister but the solid square jaw of a movie star or champion athlete. In spite of my earlier impressions, he didn't seem to be particularly menacing. He lifted my head gently to reach the buckle on the back of the strap that held my gag in place. The rubber ball popped out of my mouth with a sharp suctioning noise. Gasping for breath, I tried to speak. "I didn't do anything..."I gasped...Your sister and I..." I started coughing... "Tara tell him..." Jesse laid a gentle hand on my forehead. "Easy, easy does it darling." I was in no mood to argue that his terms of endearment weren't welcome. At this point I was just glad not to have been dismembered and my body parts littered across three states. I shook my head to indicate that I would take it easy as he had suggested and slowly caught my breath. "Are you feeling better?" "Yes," I said shakily. "Can you please tell me where I am?" "South Carolina," came the quick and honest reply. "Oh god," I said. There were other questions, obviously, that I wanted to ask but the pressure in my bladder drove them momentarily away. Funny, how even in such a horrifying situation, the body has its own simple and irrepressible demands. "Please," I said. "I have to pee." Jesse looked upset. He didn't take his eyes off me. Perhaps he feared a trick. "Mom she says she has to pee." The old lady laughed. "Well maybe she does. Let her go to the bathroom Jesse. We don't need her making a mess there." I felt myself blushing furiously as Jesse undid the knots at my wrists and ankles. I had no idea they why they insisted on referring to me as a "her" but I had all but gotten used to it. I had more important things to concern myself with, the most important being how to get out of here. "No funny business now," Jesse said, helping me up. I didn't realize how sick I still felt until I stood upright. My knees felt like as if they were filled with porridge and I embarrassingly sunk against Jesse for support. "That's sweet," the old lady commented. "Here dear, put this on." When she realized I was too weak to take the garment she held out she looked over at Tara. "Help her Tara." "Tara," I said, "why are you doing this to me?" She didn't answer. Instead my ex-girlfriend rolled up the material between her fists and slipped the neckhole over my head. Then she told me to lift my arms. Putting my hands up brought on a fresh wave of dizziness but I managed to hang on to conscious, leaning against Jesse as Tara worked my arms inside. She let the material go and I felt it slide cool and sinuous down my body. I looked down and saw that it was a pink nightgown. "What--why are you dressing me like this?" No one bothered to answer. "Bathroom's down this way," Jesse said, leading me down the hall to a tiny door. "Be out in three minutes," he said. "Or I'm coming in to get you." With that he closed the door and I locked it from inside. I knew it was an empty gesture. No doubt they had the key. I looked around the bathroom for a window but found none. The entire room was a hard shell of porcelain made to repel the water that must have sprayed all over from the standup shower. A quick look around confirmed my worst suspicions. There was no escape from here. Fearing that I had already wasted too much time, and not relishing the thought of Tara's brother forcing his way inside while I was till peeing, I took care of the business at hand. Only a few seconds later I heard Jesse's knuckles rapping the door. "Done in there?" I unlocked the door from the inside and stepped out of the tiny bathroom. Jesse held me firmly but not roughly on my bare upper arm, escorting me back to the cot. It was at that moment that I figured I had the best chance I might ever get of escape. I twisted away from Jesse's grip and swung a punch at his face. I was too slow and too weak. Jesse grabbed my fist, yanked me forward by my arm, and with the other hand hit me a terrific blow to the solar plexus. In spite of the pain, I tried to stagger to my feet. Jesse moved forward and I heard the old woman shout. "No Jimmy donut bruise her! Tara shoot!" I swung around to where she stood and saw a bright flash just before I collapsed to a heap on the floor, my body wracked with a spasms, even my thoughts momentarily disordered. Jesse lifted me off the floor and dropped me unceremoniously onto the cot. Stun gun, I thought stupidly, as he began tying my unresisting body to the frame. "Don't do that again Jenna," the old lady said. "You'll find that if you cooperate things will go ever so smoothly for you." Still unable to speak, I looked up at her with what must have been terrified eyes. "Oh she's just perfect," the old lady said. "An absolute doll. Don't you think so Jesse?" "Yes," Jesse said, tying off the knot around my ankles. It seemed as if he were trying to be extra gentle. "Well you cant have any objections to marriage now. After all, you picked her out yourself...with Tara's help." Marriage? Her? Jenna? What was going on here? In all the commotion I hadn't noticed that the mobile home had come to a complete stop. The small partition dividing the driver's cab and the living quarters was pulled back and the old man entered. He look tired and irritated. "What the hell's going on back here?" he demanded. "Everything's under control Albert," the old lady said. "Jenna here just made an unfortunate mistake. But she won't make it again. Will you, dear?" "No," I said quietly. "See?" the old lady said brightly. "She?s a quick learner." I looked from one of them to another. My captives staring down at me tied to the cot and dressed in a woman's pink satin nightgown. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?" "I think she needs another shot," the doctor said. He prepared the needle from a bottle he kept in his jacket pocket. "Please tell me why you're doing this? Why do you keep calling me Jenna? Who's Jenna?" "Why you are my dear," the old woman said kindly. "At least you will be." The doctor injected my upper arm with a quick stab that made me wince and momentarily cut off any further speech on my part. "There," he said. "That should keep her quiet for a while." He turned and made his way back to the cab. When he left, I tried to ask again where I was being taken and why. "Please ma'am," I said. "I'm begging you. Just let me know what you're going to do to me. Are you going to--" I couldn't get the words out. "Kill you?" the old woman laughed. "Just the opposite Jenna dear. We are going to give you a new life. And since we'll all be together for many years to come why don't you just drop that ma'am business. You can call me Grace. But I hope that in time you'll come to think of me as your mom." The whole thing was getting more and more insane by the moment. "A new life?" I said. "What do you mean by a new life." The old lady who now called herself Grace began to explain. "You see my son is studying to be a doctor just like his father. Naturally we would like to see him get married and settle down and join polite Georgia society. Maybe have some grandchildren Albert and I can enjoy before we're senile. Anyway we have a bit of a problem. The fact is that Jimmy has certain, oh how shall I put it delicately, curious predilections? Yes, he has certain very definitely curious predilections and these are not conducive to maintaining a good standing in society--a standing we Darlington's have fought and died to acquire from the very founding of this country." "I'm sorry ma'am...I mean Grace. What does this have to do with me?" I could already feel the injected drug taking hold. It was becoming a struggle to keep my eyes open, to make sense of the words being spoken. But I fought tread the surface of consciousness with all my might. "Why it's simple dear," Grace said. "We are going to make you a girl for our son Jesse. We are going to give him a beautiful bride and in return he will take his place in polite society just as all the Darlington's before him. You, my dear, are the perfect compromise." I turned slightly and saw Tara standing over me. Her pretty face was distorted by the drugs and a small ironic smile. "See you had the chance to marry me...now you're going to marry my brother instead." She laughed and I felt the darkness tug me down into his deepest depths... *** I am sorry if the next part of my story is fragmented, but that is how I experienced it. And in order to record faithfully what happened without exaggeration it must necessarily be told in a fragmentary way. I woke up in a hospital bed, but I was not in a hospital. The room was pink and decorated in an understated but quite unmistakably feminine fashion. There were large paintings on the wall--flowers and such--all done in soft-focus pastel colors. There was a shelf with antique dolls in elaborate what I later learned were called antebellum costumes. Across the room I saw an elegant-looking chaise lounge chair covered in a beautiful but understated fabric. The rest of the furniture was beautifully handcarved from native woods I recognized from my job at the hardware depot. Lacy pink curtains billowed in from the open windows, catching the cool evening breeze. Above me an old- fashioned ceiling fan turned lazily spreading the smell of magnolia throughout the room. Last, but not least, there were the flowers. The room was filled with them. Huge beautiful exotic blossoms dripping with color standing inside vases that looked like they belonged in a museum. Where had all of those flowers come from? I can't say that was the first time I woke up in that room but it was certainly the first time I remembered. I was in pain. I couldn't even say from where or from what. It was just an all-pervading pain that filled every corner of my body. I wasn't bound. That much was clear. But I might as well have been. The very thought of trying to get up was too much to bear. No doubt they must have known how much pain I was in and how weak I was and that I wasn't going anywhere. Otherwise they would have surely tied me to the bed. I drifted off to sleep. There were voices around me. Sometimes they joined my dreams. Other times they might have been dreams. I felt hands on my body. They lifted me up, slid the gown I was wearing off my shoulders, pressed something cold to my heart, listening. Other times the hands would lift the bottom of my gown and I would feel myself becoming aroused in spite of myself. There were muffled voices then. They didn't sound angry or upset and so I didn't get scared. I just lay there and let the pleasurable feelings come. They were my only relief from the pain. That and the drugs, of course. But the drugs only put me to sleep. If I were awake it meant that the drugs had worn off. And when the drugs wore off there was the pain. Sometimes I was undressed entirely. The sat me up, poked and prodded at my body. They took measurements. More discussions ensued. Sometimes there were arguments. The arguments seemed to be between Jesse and his father. If Grace were there, and she usually was, she would intervene. "Please, please you two," she would plead on my behalf. "If you must argue do it outside. You're upsetting Jenna." And it was upsetting me. Even as far out of it as I was it frightened me to hear them arguing. These two men were arguing about me. They were arguing about something they were going to do to me. Breasts... They were arguing about breasts once. "I don't want them too large," I heard Jesse said. And so on and so on. Sometimes I cried. It seemed to me they were forever wheeling me into and out of that room. Well I don't remember ever being wheeled back in but I must have because that's where I always woke up. But I do remember being wheeled out and it never failed to send me into a state of sheer terror because I knew that afterwards I always woke up feeling more pain than before. I was never able to stay awake long enough to figure out where it was they were taking me. The anesthetic I was given was so powerful I was out almost before I was wheeled out the door. And then there were the shots. I don't mean just the pain shots. I looked forward to those. But the other shots. There were the ones they turned me over for. The needles going deeply into my buttocks. The others going just under the flesh of my nipples and in the sensitive area under my arms. I was stuck with needles in my hips and thighs. In the upper arms. There were needles in my face, a feeling of cold fullness numbing my cheeks and lips. And, worst of all, the ones I dreaded most. It seemed to me so horrible it must have been a nightmare. Maybe it was. The cold swab between my legs letting me know what was coming. The hand grasping me firmly, almost painfully, and then the searing hot pain as the needles pierced my testicles, first one, then the other. The only comfort I drew during this period came from Grace and Tara. One or the other of them would often sit by my bed and hold my hand. They would tell me stories or sing me songs in their low comforting voices. They would tell me not to cry and try to reassure me that everything was going to be just fine. On very bad nights, they would dry my tears and kiss me goodnight and take turns sitting with me until I finally fell asleep. I no longer resisted when they called me Jenna. Grace said I would be the daughter she'd never have. Tara laughed lightly and said how wonderful it would be to have a sister. I let them talk just to hear their voices, afraid to say anything to displease them, fearing that they would leave me all alone. Either Tara or her mom would come every night with a basin of warm water, a sponge and soap and give me a bath. As they caressed me with the sponge, they would tell me about how things were, about my new life ahead. I found myself listening with calm acceptance. No doubt in my half-drugged state much of what they said sunk deep into my consciousness. Soon I began responding automatically when they called me Jenna. It no longer seemed so strange. And, of course, I wanted to please them. I was very very eager to please them. "You do want to make me happy," Mrs. Darlington asked, "don't you Jenna dear?" "Yes momma," I would say. "Yes." "You're going to be such a good daughter," she would say and hug me tight. In those dark days, I don't think I could have survived without them. Tara was usually responsible for feeding me. She sat beside my bed and gave me spoonfuls of some kind of cereal the color and consistency of plain oatmeal, except I'm quite sure it wasn't oatmeal. I was never very hungry but she insisted that I eat, saying it was important to keep up my strength. "Why?" I said, in one of my more lucid moments, "so you can torture me some more?" "You mustn't say that," she said. "Mommy and daddy don't want to hurt you. They only want to help you." I could tell that I'd hurt her feelings and it made me feel bad. Whatever drugs they were pumping into my system made me continuously nauseous and the needles had left my face feeling numb and swollen. I suppose it was a good thing for the tasteless mush. I could not have chewed real food. Still, I knew she was right. I had to keep up my strength. It was the only hope I had of getting out of here. Yes, even then I still harbored the hope that I might escape. Jesse, too, came to see me sometimes. He never said too much. He would always bring flowers or some little present from the outside world. He would help me get out of bed and walk back and forth across my little pink room. I hated doing that but Dr. Darlington insisted that I exercise every day that I didn't have a procedure performed on me. He said it was essential to my recovery that I remain as active as possible. So leaning on Jesse's arm I would take mincing baby steps across the floor until I begged him to allow me to stop. Yes, mincing baby steps. I remember the first time I stood up to walk after coming to the house. I nearly fell right over. "What's the matter with my feet," I said horrified, certain I'd been crippled. "Nothing at all," the old man explained. "We've just tightened the muscles in the calves and achilles a little. It gives your foot a more delicate arch. The muscles will loosen up with time and you'll get used to it." I stared down at what I came to call my "barbie feet" and felt like weeping. It wasn't so long ago that I could easily jog up to ten miles. Those days were gone forever. As my awareness became less and less fragmented, I started to recognize the other modifications that had been made to my body. The mirrors had been carefully removed from the room but I could see the swell of my new breasts beneath the thin silk of my pink satin nightie. I saw the long nails fixed to my fingers and painted cherry red. And with those same fingers I could feel the implants under my cheekbones and the collagen that puffed up my lips. And there were other changes that were somewhat less perceptible but even more telling. For instance there was the way my wrists brushed against the swell of my hips when I walked beside Jesse. There was the seemingly impossible narrowness of my waist and the lack of any muscular definition in my soft but firm white arms. Yes, they left it. You know what I mean. I always checked there first when I woke up from one of my procedures. I was certain that I'd find it gone. Sometimes I had nightmares so vivid I was convinced they had removed it even when I saw that it was there. I know that sounds strange but such was the state of mind I was in at the time. It was soft and small and limp, little bigger than my pinkie maybe, the testicles underneath just a sack of loose flesh. I rubbed it out of curiosity and was surprised that it was still capable of feeling. Oh I couldn't get hard or anything and I wasn't quite in the mood yet for sex but I could feel the potential of an orgasm there...even if it was an orgasm such as I'd never experienced before. I became quite fearful that they'd take that away from me too. Mom noticed my worry and asked me what was wrong. I hesitated to tell her. After all, I didn't want to give the Darlington's any ideas-- as if they wouldn't have thought of that! I guess I just didn't want to hear the truth... Well the truth turned out better than I expected. Mom assured me that I would not be castrated. At least not physically. The fact was that part of Jesse's peculiar predilections was for boys that looked like girls...and that precluded the removal of my equipment. For now, at least, I was safe from that final indignity... As for the rest... Oh it was quite clever the way they let me discover for myself the strangeness of my new body. There was no grand unveiling; there was no shock of surprise. There was only the slow dawning of realization in between periods of medicated haze. Slowly, oh so slowly, I was putting it all together in my mind's eye. And when it all did come together and I had a pretty good idea of what I looked like it was only then that they permitted me a mirror. Ostensibly it was only to allow me to start putting on my own makeup. But they really wanted to see my reaction to my made-over body. I stared at myself in the mirror and recognized myself immediately. There was no surprise. I saw pretty much exactly what I expected to see. A very beautiful, very sexy woman with long black hair and perfect features. My new mom and dad looked at each other and smiled. It was around this time that mom began telling me about the plans for the wedding. I was well enough now to move about the house and it seemed that no place was off limits. That surprised me a little. I figured I would be treated like a prisoner. Instead, the Darlington's seemed to consider me a part of their family. Sure enough, I would be soon. Mom showed me various samples for the invitations she would be sending out and asked which ones I liked the most. She showed me magazine and catalogues filled with the most beautiful wedding dresses. We talked about what kind of food and music we would have at the reception. She asked my opinion on everything and really seemed to value what I said. "After all," she said, "it's the biggest day of a girl's life." It was strange how I kind of got sucked into the excitement of it all. They were planning on having the service and reception right on the Darlington estate so there was plenty of activity going on in preparation. The wedding itself was less than two months away. Jesse had given me a ring: a beautiful two carat marquis-cut diamond surrounded by a pair one carat diamond solitaires. It was the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. He slipped it on my finger and I stared at it with breathless excitement. I held it up to the light and watched how it sparkled. Then I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him...yes I kissed him...and he kissed me back and for a week after I chattered excitedly about the upcoming wedding. Everyone seemed exceptionally happy. Even dad, who had always been rather taciturn towards me. "It's just his way," mom would say. "Believe me, he's thrilled to have you as a daughter." Jesse and I began to get better acquainted. We went for long walks around the rolling grounds of the Darlington estate. I would wear loose summer dresses, my long hair floating free in the breeze, my high-arched feet bare in the cool green grass. My handsome fiancee dressed casually in slacks and polo shirt, the muscles of his arms bulging enticingly from his sleeves. Or we would sit by the pool sipping mint juleps. I'd be wearing a gold bikini and Jesse nothing but a pair of bathing trunks. He would kiss me sometimes but nothing more, maybe touch me a little on the thighs and butt. He said he wanted to save it for our wedding night. I think that maybe he would not have waited if it weren't for mom and dad. They seemed to be always hovering in the background watching over me and protecting me. I wanted to tell them I could take care of myself but I didn't want to hurt their feelings. I was certain that Jesse loved me and would never take advantage of me. We would have long talks about our future together and how he planned on being one of the Atlanta's leading cardiologists. He painted such a beautiful picture of the new home we would live in, the beautiful cars we would drive, the exciting vacations we would take that I all but forgot the person I had been before. In his arms I was Jenna--soon to be Jenna Darlington. And that was all I wanted in the whole world. I guess it was the evening of the day I was fitted for my dress that everything came crashing down and reality smacked me sharply across the face. What was I doing? I wasn't a girl. I was a man--in spite of what the mirror said and everyone around me. I'd had a life. It was certainly not the life of ease and comfort I'd live here but it was my life. I had to get out while I still could. I had to get out before it was too late. I remembered the excitement I felt when Jesse slipped that ring on my finger, how I squealed in girlish delight, and threw my arms around his shoulders and kissed him. I was humiliated at the memory...mortified. How could I ever had done such a thing? Had they changed my mind along with my body? Or had I just been in shock? The wedding was now only three weeks away and what I had been looking forward to with a strange elation now seemed a sentence of death. I had to get away...I didn't have a moment to lose..I had to get away that very night while I was still thinking clearly. God only knew what they were capable of doing. How far they would go? Could they go much farther? I shuddered to think. Perhaps they could make me a brain-dead zombie! As long as I could think on my own I still had a chance. God only knew if tomorrow might be too late... *** Well, I've already told you how the escape turned out. I was ill- prepared, I had only a sketchy idea of the general layout of the grounds, and I was being watched even more closely than I had imagined. Of course, my biggest mistake had been trusting Tara. I figured she was my best hope. We had truly shared something special back in New Hampshire. Certainly at one time she had loved me--loved me enough to want to take me back here and meet her folks. God, how I wish I had taken her up on the offer! If there was one person I thought I could get on my side--even if just for old time's sake--it was her. I had pleaded with her to help me escape and she seemed to sympathize with me. Unfortunately for me it was all an act. The card she had given me had been deactivated. She immediately told her parents every detail about my plan. I was finished before I even began and I didn't even know it. Apparently the Darlington's had expected something like this. They had put me to the test and I had failed. I woke up groggy from the surgery. I was in my pink room again. It was a long time since I'd felt so horrible and I couldn't help but think how I'd brought it all on myself. My head was throbbing and I was nauseous. But most of all I was sick with the dread of what I knew they had done to me. Still I needed confirmation. I had to have closure once and for all. My eyes were still closed against the pain in my head. My entire body was overcome with an incredible inertia. But I forced my hand to travel down, down past my stomach, down to where... "It's still there." It was Mrs. Darlington. "Mom?" I said, feeling a mixture of surprise and relief. "Oh mom please tell me its true." "It's true," Mrs. Darlington said. "You're still intact." "But what--" "That's why I'm here," she said and now her voice was almost gentle. "You know Jesse wouldn't let us take that away from you. It was part of the bargain we made with him. But you had to be punished. We had to make sure you wouldn't try to run away again. That you would always be depended on the Darlington generosity...and, of course, on your new husband." Even through my torpor I felt a stab of cold dread. "What have you done to me," I whispered, hardly knowing if I wanted to find out. "Open your eyes dear," Mrs. Darlington said. I did, slowly, afraid of what I might see. But that was the problem. I couldn't see anything--nothing but hazy shifting patches of light and shadow. "My eyes," I said. "What did you do to my eyes?" "There there sweetheart," Mrs. Darlington said and now her voice was truly soothing, gentle. "Please don't get upset. It's not as bad as it seems right now. You'll grow used to it. Really, you left us no choice. But don't worry. We'll always take good care of you. Now rest...the big day will be here before you know it. There's so much we still have to do." She continued to talk but I didn't hear a word she was saying. Instead I lay back on my pillow staring at a ceiling of grey haze a foot away from my face, tears spilling soundlessly from my half-blind eyes. *** As with all of the changes I had undergone, I tried to take this one in stride. It was clear to me that I had little choice. I could either make the best of my situation or force the Darlington's to make it a whole lot worse. From the start they had tried their best to make me feel comfortable in what were admittedly the most unusual of circumstances. They had literally invited me to become a member of their family. I know it sounds weird but they really didn't have to be as considerate of my feelings as they had been. They truly wanted me to be happy with my new role in life. I was sorry to have disappointed them. And to tell the truth, I was also a little afraid. I had no idea what they might do if I refused to go accept what had happened to me. Certainly it would have been no great trouble for them to make me disappear for good. I shuddered. It was hard for me to think of them being so cold-hearted, but really what other choice would they have? Still for the next few days or so I remained in a rather sullen mood. It was true I had gotten a little more used to my new way of seeing. But it was difficult. I couldn't make out faces very clearly and the world had gone from full technicolor to drab black and white. I could often be found sitting on the swing in the back gardens crying. Everyone, including Tara, left me alone with my grief. At least for a couple of days. The wedding was less than two weeks away and I was dimly aware of the increase in activity around the Darlington estate. On top of that, it was clear that the Darlington's considered my time of mourning to be over. There were things I had to do if I were to be properly married. One of the first orders of business was to tatoo my face. Yes, tattoo my face. With my impaired vision, it would be all but impossible for me to apply my own make-up. So the Darlington's hired a very discrete tattoo artist to come to the estate and makeup my face for life. Because there would be no changing it once it was done Jesse, Tara, and mom all discussed what the best look for me would be. Jesse, being a guy, didn't have much input. In the end it was Tara who wound up taking over. I didn't have much to say and it was clear that my opinion did not carry much weight in this matter anyway. Tara suggested a subtle application of eyeliner, lipliner, and a light shade of eyeshadow. Under my cheekbones, the tattoo artist added just a touch of color to help them stand out. It was a look deemed sexy enough for youth but not so garish as to look ridiculous as I aged. After all, I would have to look classy for the balls and social functions I would be attending on Jesse's arm as a full-fledged member of the Darlington family. And who knows, Jesse might have political aspirations some day... The procedure was excruciatingly painful but bearable as I had downed a couple of tranquilizers earlier. Besides, compared to what I'd already been subjected to...this was a piece of cake.When my makeover was finally completed, Jesse proclaimed himself pleased, as did mom and Tara. "You're so lucky dear," mom said, admiring the finished product. "You won't have to do this for yourself anymore." Tara laughed. "Yeah Jenna. You don't know what a drag it can be." I tried to smile but it made my face sting terribly. Well, I suppose the die was now cast-if it hadn't been already! What could I do now? I had all but been transformed into a woman. My body had been altered, probably for good. My face had been tattooed. And I was left partially blind. What could I possibly have left for me in the outside world as a man? I weighed my options carefully. In the end I figured that being married into one of the most prominent and wealthy of Georgian families definitely had its advantages. I would live a kind of life I could never have imagined as a clerk in a hardware store, that's for sure. Too bad, I reflected ruefully, I hadn't thought of it when I'd so unceremoniously dumped Tara. I would have rathered become a part of the Darlington family as her husband...and not her brother's wife! It was a bit of irony that Tara never tired of pointing out to me. Still, what was done was done and there was no use crying over it. Everyone seemed glad to see that my spirits had bounced back and I once again took an active interest in my upcoming wedding. There was the final fitting for my dress-a beautiful confection of lace and satin and beaded pearls. The seamstress remarked with wonder at the weight I had lost since my last fitting, but quickly added that I had filled out quite nicely in other areas. Blushing, I thanked her. What was my secret, she asked. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when mom jumped in with a story of a special diet and exercise program devised by Dr. Darlington. "He's some miracle worker," the seamstress said. You have no idea, I thought. Meanwhile other last minute details were underway. The menu was confirmed, the music, the flowers, the decorations, the rings-which were to be those once belonging to mom and dad's great grandparents-and all the rest of it. I took an active part in everything. There was a rehearsal dinner two days before the wedding. It would be the first time I'd be introduced in public. I was extremely nervous but not just because I was being presented publicly as a woman for the first time in my life. There was also the fact that I just didn't know how to quite handle myself among society people. Mom said just to stay close to her. She was certain I'd come through with flying colors. Even Tara was kind and refrained from teasing me. I kept my answers short and polite, smiled pleasantly, and said thank you a lot. It seemed to work! I let mom do most of the real talking. I heard her explain how I had no immediate family-which was true-but that I'd been provided handsomely for by a substantial trust fund set up before my parents untimely death- which, of course, wasn't true. She told them about Dr. Darlington's diagnosis of my unfortunate degenerative eye disease. There were murmurs of sympathy which I politely and bravely deflected. The mood thus lightened there were some jokes regarding Jesse's seeming disinterest in marriage. How everyone thought he would never get married. They even ventured the suggestion that there were rumors circulating... Mom laughed them all off. "He was just waiting for the perfect girl," she said. "And that's just what our Jenna is. The perfect girl." Everyone laughed and I smiled shyly. As my maid of honor, Tara arranged for my bachelorette party. She had been exceedingly sweet of late. Perhaps she sensed my nervousness. It was she tried to teach me how to suck a cock using a zucchini. I hoped Jesse wasn't that big, I joked nervously. Tara laughed and assured me that she'd seen her brother on numerous occasions and she could assure me that while he was well endowed he was not quite the agricultural marvel the zucchini she had chosen was. We ended up the evening in each other's arms, me not knowing whether to laugh or weep, and she comforting me as best she could and telling me that everything would be all right. She said that she was going to be glad to have me for a sister. She went on to instruct me in the other things a girl should know, things that mom was just too old-fashioned to feel comfortable talking about, such as how I should keep myself clean back there. Tara completely understood my objections about taking it that way but, she shrugged, men are men. She suggested that if I learned how to keep him sufficiently satisfied with my mouth maybe I'd be spared more often than not. Still, Tara warned me that Jesse was quite insatiable and certainly he would demand my virginity on our wedding night. The bachelorette party was a real blast. Tara had rented out a small hall and more than three hundred girls from the wedding list were invited. There was plenty of champagne and great food and, of course, male strippers. It was difficult for me to see exactly what was going on all the time but Tara shouted to me over the music. I smiled and clapped my hands. As the bride-to-be I was give special attention and one by one all the men stood directly in front of me where I could more or less see them and did their slow bumps and grinds to the music. Curious but too timid to touch, I watched their oiled ripped bodies, their pelvises thrusting towards me the tiny pouches that barely concealed their genitals, the mesmerizing gyrations of their tight muscular buttocks. Sensing my dilemma, Tara guided my hand and I nervously felt for the first time the most intimate parts of another man's body. I was surprised to feel the electricity of excitement pour through me from my head all the way down to the tips of my toes! Was it truly possible? Had I changed that much? Could I really have been turned into a woman not only outwardly, but inside as well? It seemed impossible, but perhaps I had crossed the line after all. Whatever Dr. Darlington had done to my body had also affected my mind. I no longer just looked like a woman I seemed to think like a woman too. And not the strong-willed and strong-minded woman that Tara was either. Instead I was a mild, passive, and willing-to-please girl who was happy enough to just get along. I had no idea when these changes occurred or how but they had. I trembled to think that I had ever tried to get away. What could I have done? How would I have survived? The question of escape now was absurd. The worst thing the Darlington's could do to me would be to let me go. *** Oh how I shall always regret having tried to escape and the punishment my stupidity had earned me! I would give anything to be able to relive the day of my wedding as a fully sighted person. As it was, it was the most magical day of my life. In the small waiting room of the chapel, I was trembling with anticipation. Mom held my hand and told me how beautiful I looked. Tara was giggling and chatting with the other bridesmaids. She came over to me and gave me a soft kiss when one of the ushers came in and said it was time. "Good luck Jenna," she said. "I'll always love you." "Oh thank you Tara," I said, hugging her tightly. And then only the Darlingtons and I were left. "You've made us both very proud Jenna," Mrs. Darlington said. "I'm--sorry mom," I stammered. "For all the...you know...problems I gave you." I could make out Mrs. Darlington's hand waving away my apologies. "Never mind that. It's all in the past. Children--especially daughters-- can always be a problem. But look how well you turned out." "Oh mom," I said and threw my arms around her. I couldn't believe how emotional I was feeling. Dr. Darlington--[blush] dad--slipped me a small blue pill. "Xanax," he said gently. "Thank you," I said quietly, daring to look up at him from under my veil. Through the greyish haze of my altered vision I saw him smile. It was a rarity for him--but all the more special for that. I smiled shyly back. I had no sooner swallowed the little pill then the music started up and the wedding march began. I felt my knees go weak. "Mom--" I looked back. "Go ahead hear," Mrs. Darlington said. "And don't forget these." She placed a bouquet in my hands and kissed me gently on the cheek. "Go now sweetheart." Dr. Darlington took my thin lace-covered arm in his and led me out of the waiting room down the white carpet towards the altar. I leaned against him for support, tears in my eyes, thinking of all I had been through. It was worth it for this moment. Did I ever in my wildest dreams think I would say such a thing? But it had been worth it. I couldn't see a lot, just moving shadows and lights, but I could hear the murmurs of approval and the whispered compliments. I could feel every eye in the church on me and me alone. Oh I could never hope for such a moment again if I lived forever! I wished the walk down that aisle would never end! And yet, on the other hand, I knew that the man who loved me waited there. I was glad I had been able to see him before my sight had been dimmed. I was glad I knew how big and strong and handsome he was. It gave me a strange satisfaction to know that I was the envy of every woman in the church! Dr. Darlington slipped my hand into his son's hand and stepped back and then the priest read the vows. A few moments later I heard my soft feminine voice say I do and then a ring was slid onto my finger and Jesse lifted my veil, leaned forward, and kissed me as he never had before. I heard the minister say those magic words: "I now pronounce you husband and wife." Suddenly there were tears running down my face--tears of inexpressible joy-- and I think for the first time I was glad that my makeup was tattooed on or I would have made quite a mess of myself. The music rose up again and before I knew it Jesse was whisking me out