Turning Me Over, His Story free porn video

Turning Me Over: His Story by suki A sequel to the story "Turning Him Over" I stand on the corner where I stand every night. It's a really lousy part of town but its where girls like me go to get picked up and turn a trick. Its chilly and a light rain is falling so we all huddle under the awning of an abandoned building. We come out when we see headlights turn the corner and come down the street. We strut in our high high heels and hope that whoever is behind the wheel of the car likes what he sees. We are all really friendly, talking, laughing, and smoking under the awning, gathering close together for warmth, but its understood that when it comes to business anything is fair. After all, we're all in this trying to make a buck. Me, I have to make five hundred bucks a night or I don't get to go home. Those are the rules. I check my change purse. I'm about three hundred dollars short. Business has been bad tonight. Maybe it's the weather. All I know is that if I don't make five hundred dollars I can't go home. I'll have to spend the night and next day in that rat-trap hotel room my wife Sally rented for me. Those were the rules. I am trying to earn enough to undergo a full sex change operation. That is the only way she will allow me to leave the streets and move back into her house for good again. I have to earn enough to pay for the operation myself as proof I am doing this of my own free will. And I am. I want to be turned over. I will do anything for Sally. Anything at all. So far I had managed to scrape together enough to have some cosmetic work done. Patty the makeup artist at the salon Sally takes me to every Wednesday suggested what alterations needed to be made. She said I had good bone structure and that just a little work would be necessary to make me very pretty. I remember feeling a rush of relief at that. I was also kind of flattered, if not a little embarrassed. The other girls in the shop saw me blushing and all started laughing. It used to be mortifying going there. Now I actually look forward to it. Everyone there knows my situation and they're all really sweet to me. They all seemed genuinely touched that I would undergo all the pain and humiliation of being turned over out of my love for Sally. First I had collagen injected into my lips. When I first saw my new mouth I almost freaked out. The lips looked impossibly huge and swollen. I was disfigured. No one would want me now! I started to cry. Sally just squeezed my hand and reassured me that the swelling would go down in a couple of days. It did but not quite as much as I'd hoped she meant. I was still left with lips that just didn't seem natural to me. Sally had me put on some red lipstick and I could see how the lipstick brought out an exaggerated but sexy pout. She called them my "cocksucker" lips. I felt my stomach flip-flop. I must have looked worried because she asked if anything was wrong. If I had changed my mind about going through with what she'd planned. "No," I said meekly, thinking of myself on my knees sucking cock. "Good," she answered matter-of-factly. "Remember, you can back out at any time." "I know," I said. "But you know the price. You're out of my life forever. Do you understand?" "Yes," I nodded. "I understand." I really did understand. I had hurt Sally badly by having that stupid affair. I don't know why I did it. The whole thing was a terrible mistake and I was so incompetent the way I went about it. Sometimes I wonder if I didn't want to get caught. Sometimes I wonder if I didn't secretly want Sally to do this to me all along. Sometimes "I didn't hear you," she said. "I understand," I said louder and more clearly. Sally seemed please and that always made me feel better. I wanted nothing more than to please her after what I'd done to her. I had embarrassed her in front of all her friends. I had made a mockery of our marriage. I had gone back on my vows. I stared down at the finger that used to bear my thick gold wedding band. Instead my well-manicured finger was decorated with some kind of cheap faux ruby. It was horrible and garish but Sally said men who visited girls like me were turned on by our bad taste. I didn't understand at the time. But I do now. My cheekbones were next. They injected collagen there too. I was a lot more pleased with the results than I had been with my lips. My naturally high cheekbones had been accentuated giving me a slightly exotic look. While I was under they had also shaved my voice box for good measure. Sally had promised me that I would get to make a choice before each operation. But since I always said "yes" anyway, she decided for me. Besides she was listed on my medical forms as the person to make all decisions in the event of my incapacitation. To be honest, it scared me that she had that much power over me. Although I had already agreed to go all the way, I liked the idea that I had the freedom to back down. The way things were I had no idea what-or rather who-I would look like when I woke up. I had my teeth capped to give me a perfect smile. My nose was fixed and fixed again until it was perfect. By now my hair has grown out so I no longer need the extensions. I have it washed, colored, and set every week at the salon. My hair is down to the middle of my back, golden blonde, and loosely curled. I've come to enjoy my days at the salon. I love sitting under the dryers with my hair in rollers and reading the fashion magazines or chatting with the other customers as I have my nails done. I get to feel pampered even if it is a little embarrassing that all the other girls know who I used to be and what I do for a living. I thank Sally for letting me have this luxury. I don't want to complain but the rest of my life is so hard. The hormones I've been taking, while doing wonders for the hair on my head, has slowed down the growth of my body hair to almost nil. What remains has nearly all been removed by an intensive course of laser electrolysis. The electrolysis is rather unpleasant but Sally insists that I go through with it. I don't dare disagree. Besides I love my new hairless body. Right now, I am saving up for breast implants. There is a clinic in Mexico that will do them with no questions asked. Sally assures me it is safe. I don't know. It sounds a little suspicious. But I really want to have breasts and this does seem like the easiest way. Sally has been very good to me when I've had my cosmetic surgery. She lets me stay at her house to recuperate. I almost said "our" house, but I signed away the title and deed nearly a year ago. It was part of our agreement. Naturally, I cant work during those periods when I'm physically incapacitated. No one is going to pay for a whore with a swollen face swathed in bandages. Still, she could make me stay in my depressing and run-down hotel room. Its the room where I bring back my clients. I hate it there. I will do anything to make the 500 dollars necessary to allow me back in Sally's house. She has fixed up the guest room for me down the hall. Everything is pink, frilly, and girlie. I felt uncomfortable the first few times I stayed there. Now it seems perfectly natural. I am so grateful to stay at her house that I don't dare say a word about how she goes out at night. She doesn't tell me where she's going or when she will be back. I feel terribly lonely and sad. I am certain she must be seeing someone. But how can I blame her? After all, I'd had an affair. Still, I wish what she was doing to me was enough to repay her. At first the thought of her in the arms of another man was unbearable. Now, like nearly everything else, I've come to accept it. Maybe it is the hormones-or maybe it is just having been with so many men myself lately. But it almost seems natural that she should be seeing other men. While she's gone, I read the tg-stories she's pulled down off the internet or watch the she-male tapes she has bought me from a mail-order catalogue. Sometimes I play with myself while I watch the movies or read the stories. I get so turned on. I don't have an orgasm though. At least not like I used to have orgasms. There's just this wonderful warm feeling and a tiny spillage of clear fluid from the end of my tiny cock. I have no idea how much money I still need in order to have the final operation that would make me a girl. Sally takes care of all that. I tried to ask her once but the look on her face stopped me. She gives me an allowance for food and clothing. I spend it mainly on clothing. I've learned from the other "girls" how best to dress to get picked up. Tonight I'm wearing a tight black leather skirt, sheer black stockings, and a leather corset that I got Katie to help me lace up. The corset really restricts my breathing but it gives me such a pretty small waist. It also accentuates the cleavage I have developed since taking the hormone pills. A fake fur wrap covers my shoulders. I am wearing pair of open-toed fetish sandals with heels so high they make it almost impossible to walk. Guys like that. I bum a cigarette off Serena as we wait under the awning. She looks a little pissed off. Money is tight for all of us. She lights the cigarette with a cheap Bic lighter and I inhale the smoke. I only recently started smoking. It makes me feel warm inside-it fills me like only one other thing can. I never realized it before but I have this huge emptiness inside me. Smoking is a poor substitute but it helps to pass the time until the real thing comes along. God, did I really say that? I am so embarrassed. But it's the truth. I can't deny it any longer. The guys that cruise the streets don't seem to mind either. They kind of like it, I think. A "girl" can suggest a lot with a cigarette. We all turn at once as a car pulls around the corner. It's a black Nissan and we all hurry out from under the awning into the light rain. You can hear the pitty-pat of our high-heels on the broken sidewalk. I nearly turn an ankle to take my place in line. The Nissan cruises along the sidewalk as the driver makes his selection. I try to look interested but not desperate. I smile coquettishly as he passes. I see the babyseat in the back and think what a bastard he is for cheating. Then I remember that I did the exact same thing. Maybe some day he'll be standing on this very same street beside me. He picks Marissa and the rest of us retreat back under the awning and console each other. The guy looked like a perv we say, did you see that dent in the car door, probably a cheap son-of-a-bitch, stuff like that to make ourselves feel better for not being picked. At the same time we hope Marissa will be okay. We always worry a little about each other. I think I worry most of all. We all know how dangerous it is for a girl to get into a car with strangers. Even "girls" like us. Once in a while, we'll hear about something really bad happening to some girl or other. It makes me afraid but after a couple of nights you just kind of forget about it. There's business to be done. Besides I've chosen my fate. I think what really hurts most of all is that Sally doesn't seem overly concerned with my safety. I mean I'm certain that she would be very upset if I were seriously hurt or god forbid killed, but its almost as if she has reconciled herself to the fact that I deserve any fate that awaited me for having cheated on her. The strange fact is that I feel pretty much the same way. I deserve whatever I have coming to me. I know that is the only way I can prove to Sally how much I love her. The night starts out pretty slowly. I guess that combined with the need to make some money and get out of the drizzle convinces me to get into the pickup with two college kids who'd obviously been drinking. One jumps out of the truck and has me climb inside. Then he climbs back inside, squeezing me between himself and the driver. They are both big, muscular, clean-cut kids that look like they must have play on the nearby university football team. The driver has an open can of beer between his legs and he's not using his windshield wipers. I am about to say something but I decide to keep my mouth shut. My hotel room is not far from here anyway. "How much?" he says. I am always embarrassed at his part. What price do I put on my body? Still it's a matter of survival. "What would you like me to do?" I say as pleasantly as possible. "Fuck your ass," he says gruffly. "Both of you?" "Yeah. Both of us." "Fifty each," I say. "We'll give you seventy-five for the both of us," he says. I can't afford to haggle. Its been a slow night and who knows how many chances I'll get tonight. "Okay," I say, glad to have that part of the whole business over. I can feel the raw "maleness" vibrating off of the two boys sitting beside me. The muscles inside their jackets press against my body. I was never big to begin. At only 5 foot 7 and less than 130 pounds I did not make a very imposing guy. Now with the hormones and the strict diet Sally kept me on I had dropped at least ten pounds and added enough body fat to soften and reshape my body with soft sexy feminine curves. The tight training corset helped too. My waist was down to a size 27. Sally said she wanted to get me down to a size 24 which seems impossible. But then I thought getting to the point where I am now was impossible. I have since learned to trust whatever Sally says. I feel so weak and vulnerable sitting squashed between these two guys. I know they can beat me up or worse if they want. The only thing I can do is make sure I please them and give them what they want. What they want is for me to take it in the bottom. They make that clear the moment we get in the door. I start to slip off my heels and one of them-a huge blonde with a buzz cut-sharply tells me "no," leave the heels on. I do what he says. He's obviously done this before though I've never seen him. He tells me to pull down my skirt, climb onto the bed, and get into "position." His friend, equally huge but far more cut, looks on with amusement. I do as the blonde boy says and even before I get onto to the bed he's already got his cock out and is getting himself ready with his hand. He doesn't have to work long. He's already hard. His cock is not particularly big, but its thick and heavy looking. I know I am in for a painful time so I clutched the sheets in my hands, raise my ass in the air, and put my fact down on the pillow. I feel his weight sag the already weak mattress. He yanks down my flimsy pink panties. They are so dainty and he is so hard he could probably drive his cock right through them into my bottom. How many times have I been fucked on this this bed, I wonder, as I feel his cock press against me? God, I've lost count, but in less than a year its been at least ten times more than Sally and I made love in five years of marriage. I feel tears spill down my cheeks as the blonde boy smacks my ass and tells me to relax. I do as he says, pushing my bottom towards him, but I'm not crying from the pain of being fucked. It hurts alright but I've gotten sort of used to it by now. No, I'm crying over what I've lost with Sally. The blonde boy has got it halfway inside me now and he's talking himself into a state of extreme excitement. "Tell me how much you want it you fucking pussy," he says. "Fuck me," I say, "fuck my ass please." "Tell me what a fucking little sissy bitch you are." "I am," I say, not acting at all. "I'm a fucking little sissy bitch. Fuck me, fuck me fuck me...." "Talk, talk," he says. I can feel his penis growing even thicker inside me. He's all the way in now and the pain has given way to a strange sense of fullness I always get when I'm being fucked like this. I imagine it is the place left empty by Sally when she ceased to love me as a husband. It makes me feel good to be filled there. I am thinking these thoughts when I start talking. "Please fuck me," I say, "I need it so badly. Fill me, god, fill me. I need it in my body. I'm nothing but a silly stupid whore" His hips start bucking wildly and I can feel him swell so large inside me it feels like I'm going to burst. Instead he bursts, his cock thrusting with short quick stabs inside me. I pushed my ass back to meet him with each thrust. I feel his hot come splash inside me, burning me, and yet that too filling some emptiness I need to have filled. Eventually I feel him soften somewhat and his cock slides out of my ass. "Damn that was good," he says to his friend, who has been stroking himself the whole time. "She's tight but I think I've loosened her up and given her a good lube. You should go in nice and smooth." His friend laughs. His cock, like the rest of him, looks long and muscular and dark. It's a much scarier looking cock. The blonde boy has climbed off the bed to make room for his dark-haired friend. He positions himself behind me and I feel the massive head of his cock slip right inside my bottom. I give a little gasp. He seems a little surprised by the suddenness of it himself, almost panicked, and I feel he's about to pull it out. Instead back up slowly, impaling myself on his cock, telling him how much I want to be fucked, how good its making me feel, how much I need it. He isn't a talker but what I am saying seems to make him more comfortable. His cock is so long that it feels as if its head is actually prodding my prostate. He begins slowly thrusting inside me as his friend starts talking. "Good isn't it? Nothing else like it. Nancy wont let me do her ass. The best are pussies like this. They really dig it. Look at her take it. She loves it." I am not really loving it. But I do like it better with this boy than the other. He seems a lot more sensitive and gentle, even if he is wrecking me with this enormous cock of his. It's probably his first time. Next time he will probably get over his shyness and be more like the blonde boy. Its something I noticed happening in more guys than one. Once they've had you once they feel like they can treat you any way they want. And the thing is they can. I'm just a cheap street whore. I can feel him on the verge of coming. I force the inside of my bottom to contract around his muscular cock and that drives him over the edge. He holds me steady by my corseted waist and thrusts so long and so deeply I swear it feel like his cock is going to come through the back of my throat. "Was that worth it or what," the blonde boy says as he counts out the money from his wallet. "You're not getting that from Suzanne and you fucking know it!" The dark-haired boy grunts his approval as he zips up and snaps his tight jeans. "I got only twenties," the blonde says. "You got any change?" "Just a twenty and a couple of tens," the dark-haired boy says, not even looking in his wallet. "Give me thirty," the blonde boy says and then looks down at me lying sideways on the bed adjusting my garters. "Youre just gonna have to make do with seventy bucks." He looks at me like I'm going to give him a problem. I nod. "It's okay," I say. He looks almost disappointed at my lack of fight but lays the bills on the nightable. "Good," he says, softening a little. "You were a hot fuck. Maybe we'll see you again." "Maybe," I say and smile. They were harmless enough. I'm not back out on the street fifteen minutes when a shiny silver Lexus pulls to the curb. We all primp and preen and I feel special when the beautiful car stops in front of me. I always feel special when I've been picked out from the other "girls." I try not to show it, but I can't help it. My wife Sally laughed when I tried to explain it to her. She got me to admit how much I liked looking like a hot slut bitch and when she did the rest just came pouring out. Even I was amazed at the psychological changes that were accompanying the physical ones. I began to wonder if I wasn't being brainwashed. If I was, I didn't care. I enjoyed being the new me. I enjoyed being turned over. I just had my doubts about taking that one last step from which there would be no turning back. The man leaning over the seat of the Lexus is handsome. He looks to be in his mid-thirties, dark hair, square jaw. He is dressed in casual but expensive-looking clothes. There is no baby-seat in the back of his car or anything else that pegged him for a family man. He is probably just a guy looking for a good time. Well, he's found the right "girl." He looks like easy money, safe, and not a perv. In other words, a dream john. "What's your name sugar?" he asks. "Marcia," I say. "Pretty name for a pretty girl. It's kind of cold and rainy to be standing outside. Why don't you let me give you a lift?" "Sure," I say and smile. I get in the Lexus and feel the eyes of the other "girls" burning holes through my back. I can't help rubbing it in just a little. "See ya!" I call back, getting into the car and shutting the door. He makes some small talk as we drive the short distance to my room. "Marcia, huh? I think my first crush was on Marcia Brady. You know, from the television show? "The Brady Bunch," I say. "Yes," he says, seeming pleased. "You've seen it?" "Only on reruns," I say. "Me too. The originals were a little before my time." He's not the first guy to make the association between my name and the girl from the Brady Bunch. I'm usually kind of annoyed to hear it. But the way he says it somehow I don't mind so much. The truth is I used to have a bit of a crush on Marcia Brady too, so I can understand the erotic association he must be making in his mind. Of course, I too, once wanted to fuck Marcia Brady. Now I fantasize about being Marcia Brady getting fucked. When we get to my room I can see the look of disgust on his face and it hurts my feelings. I wish Sally would let me get a better place, but as she has explained a hundred times already, it would cut severely into my profit margin. I try to make it up to him by shucking off my fake fur coat and running my manicured hand up the inside of his leg and cupping his balls. He is already hard. He pulls me towards him and kisses me. His tongue goes in my mouth and I can taste my own freshly applied lipstick. It tastes like cherries. He runs his hands over my breasts, making me wish I already had the implants, and then squeezing one nipple through my top he slides his other hand under the waistband of my skirt and into my panties. That's when I hear him gasp and know that something bad is about to happen. "Jesus Christ!" he shouts. "Jesus fucking Christ! You're a goddam guy!" "I'm sorry," I mutter, "I'm sorry." "You fucking little queer you were trying to fool me." "No," I say. "I really thought you knew. I would never try" He shoves me away hard, so hard I hit the wall. I think he is going to leave but instead he steps forward and punches me in the stomach and I go down on my knees. I can barely breathe. I want to beg him to stop but I cant get the words out. He kicks me as I try to crawl away. I feel a terrible pain in my side and I am sure he has broken one of my ribs. One of my heels has come off and I can see the tear in my stocking. Somehow my top has been torn, my corset pulled down, and my fat little titties are exposed. I look totally pitiful. I am hoping I look pitiful. I want him to have mercy on me. I am terrified of his anger. I am terrified he will beat me to death. I have heard stories from the other girls about johns like this but this is the first time anything like this has ever happened to me. I somehow make it to the side of the bed. He is about to kick me again. I put my hands up half in surrender and half for protection. "Please," I rasp out. "Please don't hurt me anymore. I can make you feel good. I may not be a real girl, but I can make you feel good just like a real girl. I promise. Just give me a chance." "What do you take me for, a goddam faggot," he shouts. He takes off his belt and rolls it in his fist. "No, no, please.I'm the faggot. I'm trying to be a real girl. I'm trying to make enough money to be a real girl. Please don't hurt me." The first blow lands across my arms. It stings something awful. He raises his arms and hits me again with the belt. This time the tip catches my face. I start crying with the pain and humiliation of it all. My arms feel raw from catching most of the blows and I bend forward to the floor as he snaps the belt over my back, shredding my top. I can feel the welts rising on my flesh. My whole body shakes with my sobbing. I deserve this, I think. I deserve to be treated like this. It is all part of the punishment. I should never have cheated on Sally and I should never have pretended to be a girl. I feel him pull my tight skirt down along with my panties leaving me totally exposed. Then he yanks my arms behind me and loops the belt around my wrists. He jerks me up with the other end. God, he is strong. His cock is already out and I realize he must have taken it out while he was beating me. My beating must have turned him on because he is totally hard. His cock is enormous-the biggest I've ever seen-and I'm not sure what he wants me to do. I'm not sure if he wants me to do anything at all. I am kneeling in front of his enormous cock, nearly purple with engorged blood, the flared head larger than my pouting lips, and I don't know what to do. I don't dare do anything for fear of angering him further. Please, please tell me what to do, I think. Just then he answers my prayers by putting his hands around my neck and pulling my face towards his long, thick cock. "Suck it," he says. "You've got one chance to convince me you'd make a good girl. You better do a good job." I have to shuffle forward on my knees, my hands tied behind my back, to get into position. It is totally humiliating. My skirt and panties are pulled down, my titties exposed as well as my little clittie cock, my makeup is smeared, and I'm still sobbing. But even worse are his hands around my throat, his thumbs pressing against my windpipe. I am terrified he is going to kill me. I start to plead with him again by he responds only by pressing his thumbs tightly against my throat, gagging me. "Suck it," is all he says. He doesn't want to hear another word out of me. He only wants me to suck his cock. I can do that. Over the last several months I've lost track of how many cocks I've sucked. I've become quite good at it. And the fact that I take pride in being good at it is only further proof of how far gone I am. I know I can make this guy feel good. I know I can make him forget I'm not a real girl. I promised him I could and I know I can make good on that promise. I only hope I am not too nervous to do it right. I think of Sally and wonder where she is tonight. I wonder who is with. I feel a deep pang of longing. I love her so much. I want to see her again. I wonder if this guy strangles me to death and leaves me in this rundown room Sally would even shed a tear. I wonder if she would even go to the morgue to claim my ruined body and give it a decent burial. I can't allow myself to think about that now. I'll lose it for sure. Instead I kiss the head of his enormous cock and lightly lick it. I taste the drop of precum. So far, I am doing good. As long as he is excited, I may get out of this yet. I lick all around tip of his cock the way you lick around an ice cream cone. Then I use the tip of my tongue to lightly tease the sensitive triangle of pink flesh on the underside of his cock just behind the head. I see his cock jump up several times. His fingers loosen around my throat. I flick my tongue on the sensitive flesh underneath again and once again his cock jumps. It thumps heavily against my face demanding attention. I can feel him losing control a little. I open my mouth and take the head of his cock between my pouty lips. I hear him groan and I know that I have him where I want him. I have to shuffle a little way forward and cock my head at an awkward angle but I slide my mouth down his red-hot iron-hard shaft. I do it a little at a time, stopping every inch or so to tighten my lips and squeeze his cock. He rocks back and forth a little and I feel his tight hard balls in their sack swing against my chin. I continue working my way down until I have him nearly all inside me. I'm afraid to touch him with my teeth if I try to fit any more of him in my mouth. As it is, the end of his cock is nearly at the back of my throat and its all I can do to keep from gagging. I give myself some relief by pulling my head back and letting my lips slide against his shaft. I draw a deep breath and plunge the cock back into my mouth. I do it again and again, letting him fuck my face with his cock. Above me, I can hear him talking, his breathing going ragged. "That's it you little faggot.suck me suck me you little pussy whore this is all you're good for" He is right. This is all I'm good for. I can feel him on the edge. His cock swelling impossibly big inside my mouth. But at the same time his hands are tightening against my throat. I'm sucking him for all I'm worth but the harder I suck the more he squeezes my throat. I'm terrified that he is going to strangle me. I'm not sure if he's even doing it on purpose or not. Maybe he is only getting excited. Maybe if I can get him off in time he will loosen his grip. I can feel myself growing light-headed. The blood rushes to my head and I can feel the thudding of my pulse as his cock slides in and out of my mouth. He's strangling me for certain. I black out and come back to consciousness. I feel my body go strangely limp, my mouth slackens, and I don't think I'm breathing. He's fucking my face as if I were a ragdoll. All of a sudden I feel him spurting, his bitter, fiery jism hitting the back of my throat. I can't swallow because his hands are tight around my throat. I can feel my body convulsing, coughing, drooling the sperm he's pumping into me. I feel my bladder release and the scalding urine pouring down my thighs. I hear him cursing. I'm kneeling in a puddle of my own pee. I really am going to die. I try to say a prayer. Then his cock slips out of my mouth entirely and he's coming all over my face. He's shaking my limp body and coming all over my face and that is the last thing I remember I wake up to the sound of a voice over an intercom. It takes me several moments to realize I'm in a hospital. The memory comes rushing back to me: the cute guy in the Lexus, the vicious beating, the hands around my throat. My body aches and when I try to move I feel a lancing pain in my side. Oh god, I feel so sore all over. But at least I am alive. I am lucky. He could just as easily have killed me after I passed out. I hear voices coming from the corner of the room. I try to lift myself up and again the pain forces me to lie down. "Please don't move, Marcia," a pretty nurse says. She seems to appear out of nowhere. She has red hair and freckles and looks very concerned. "It's best if you just lie still." "Sally?" I call out. " I can swear one of the voices is Sally's. "Mrs. Davis," the nurse says. "She's awake." I hear a man's voice telling my wife he'll give her a few minutes alone with me and then Sally's beautiful face swims into view. "Sally" "Could you give us a moment alone?" Sally says to the cute nurse. "Certainly Mrs. Davis. Just let me know when you are done. She's do for another pain shot." The nurse left the room. Sally watched her go. "Cute isn't she?" "Sally am I alright" "You're going to be fine, sweetheart. The doctor says that aside from a couple of fractured ribs and some deep tissue bruises you're going to be just fine." She strokes the side of my face with her hand and my eyes brim over with tears. "I'm sorry.so sorryI've made such a mess of thingscaused you so much trouble againI'm so stupid" I start to sob. "It's okay darling. These things happen. You should have been more careful. But I guess I should have expected something like this would happen to you. You are so na?ve." Sally shook her head with a sadly affectionate smile. She wiped away my tears and gave me a kiss on the forehead. Then a terrifying thought crossed my mind. My face "Did he my face" "Don't worry," Sally laughed. "He didn't touch your face. Its still as pretty as ever." I breathed a painful sigh of relief and Sally laughed again. I had to smile. Even though it hurt to even smile. "You really are such a girl," Sally said. "All you can think to worry about is your pretty face." Then her voice turned stern. "You know the police found you. They called the ambulance. But they confiscated all the money you made. On top of that, you are going to be arrested for prostitution. Your name will be in the paper. Your male name, I'm afraid. Everyone is going to know." "Oh god," I said. For a moment, the thought of the public humiliation to come is even greater than the pain I felt in my body. "That's right, Marcia. Soon everyone is going to know that I am married to a shemale prostitute and I have to say I'm not happy about that at all." "Please Sally, I'm sorry" Sally put a finger to her lips. "The police are going to ask you a lot of questions Marcia. You are going to tell them you don't remember anything about the man who beat you. Do you understand? You are going to tell them you can't give them a description." "But Sally he might do this to one of the other girls. They are my friends I can't" Sally presses her finger harder against my pouty lips. "That man isn't going to bother your friends Marcia. I hired that man to pick you up and do what he did. I used the rest of the money you earned to pay him. Whatever was left over after what we spent on your surgery. I was going to have him kill you after how you betrayed me. But at the last moment I changed my mind. You have gone through so much pain to show your love for me. I just couldn't go through with it. I forgive you, Marcia. I truly do." I am speechless. I can hardly believe Sally would have the heart to do this to me. I guess I should have known. I had hurt her badly. I was lucky she was even willing to give me another chance. "Don't look so shocked," she says, laughing. "You know the saying. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' He did go a little further it seems then I'd planned. I hear you were found lying semi-conscious in a puddle of your own pee." Then the smile goes away from her face. "You shamed me Marcia and you had to pay. You understand that don't you?" "Yes," I say. "I do." And the thing of it was that I really did understand. "That could almost be a reaffirmation of our wedding vows couldn't it?" she says. "You really do understand don't you?" "I do Sally," I say, my voice charged with emotion. "I really do." Sally looks pleased. "Good. And now I have a little surprise for you." She reaches into her handbag and pulls out two airline tickets. I can't make out the writing on the tickets and its too painful to sit up. "Mexico. When you get out of here in a couple of days we're going on a kind of second honeymoon." "What do you mean?" "Remember I told you about those clinics who will do a sex change operation without questions asked? Well honey I think it's time for you to go all the way. It's too dangerous for someone like you on the streets. You might run into a guy who will really harm you." "But the money" I started to say. "Is all taken care of," Sally says. "But how?" "Do you really want to know? I don't want to upset you." "Yes," I say. I'm really not certain if I want to hear what she is going to say or not. There is so much being thrown at me at once. But I figure it's best to hear it now once and for all. "That man who beat you up-I had Kyle find him. That's right dear. Brenda's ex-boyfriend. Surely you remember Kyle. He was the man who took your cherry that first night in the hotel room. A girl always remembers her first time." I do remember, of course. I remember trying to keep my balance in a pair of too-high heels, my arms raised above my head to a u-bolt in the ceiling, a rubber ball-gag stuffed in my mouth. I was facing the television that Sally had tuned to a repeat of thirtysomething.. The man came in and raped me from behind. I could feel his anger and disgust and it terrified me. I remember crying the whole time he fucked me, the tears rolling down my face, my body shaking as I sobbed. I was being turned over right then and I knew it. I knew there would be no going back. I had suspected who he was but I was never certain. Now I knew. "There is no reason to feel ashamed," Sally says, as if reading my mind. "You helped him to feel better. Isn't that what all good whores do? I made him promise not to hurt you. I just wanted him to humiliate you. We both thought that would be enough. But I'm afraid it wasn't. We're both very very vindictive people. You see, Brenda cheated on Kyle when she was with you. So you can imagine how angry he was. In fact, he was more than happy to find someone to beat the shit out of you. He was all for killing you, too. He wanted to do it himself, but I persuaded him it wouldn't be wise. He would be the first person the police would suspect. Besides, I persuaded him you would be more valuable to us alive than dead." Sally can see the confusion on my face. "Yes you heard right Marcia darling. Us. Kyle and I have become rather close lately. In fact you could say we're inseparable. In the process of plotting our revenge, we have fallen in love with each other. And yes, Brenda is being punished as well. You see, she loves Kyle as much as you love me. The two of you are going to make such a cute pair of high price call-girls. We can even rent you out together!" Sally clapped her hands she was so pleased with her plans for me and Brenda. It was the perfect revenge. "Yes," she said, "Kyle and I decided that this streetwalking thing is just not where its at. Really it was just to punish you. From now on, you're going to make real money for us. The two of you. You are going to be our slaves-our cute little cash cows. Brenda is already down in Mexico being surgically 'improved.' You're going to join her. And when we come back, we're going to put the two of you to work. Just think how much time you'll get to spend with her now!" Sally laughs at her own joke. I still have feelings for Brenda. Whether or not she still has any for me, I don't know. But one thing is certain, if I were ever going to see her or Sally again, it wasn't going to be as a man. "So," Sally says. "I guess that about covers things up to this point. The only question remains is whether or not you really want it Marcia. Do you really want to go through with it? I've already put you through so much. But I can't forgive you unless we take it all the way. So the question is do you really want to be turned over?" Looking at Sally, I don't have the least doubt in my mind. I don't even have to think about it. The last several months living as a girl have completely changed my way of thinking. Besides, I could never go the rest of my life without Sally. I love her too much "Yes," I say without any reservations. "Yes I want to be turned over." Sally turns serious. "You know what you are saying? There's no going back. You'll be completely reconstructed. There will be virtually nothing to distinguish you from a real girl. Are you sure you want that?" "Yes Sally. I do. I want it more than anything. I hate that useless thing between my legs. It's already gotten me into more trouble than its worth. It has already almost made me lose you. Turn me over. Please. Turn me over." "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words," Sally says quietly, smiling. "It's really all I ever wanted. One way or another, whether you had that stupid affair or not, I wanted this. And I know you wanted it to. Didn't you?" "Yes," I say. Sally strokes the side of my face. I can feel its gone white with the pain of trying to sit up. I should hate her for the pain she has caused me, but I know I deserve it. Deep down, I'm grateful to her for it. I know everything she did was done only because she still loves me. "You're getting too excited. I'm going to call the nurse. You're long overdue for your next pain shot." I try to tell her its okay but she has already pressed the buzzer for the nurse. I start to say something. "No more questions now," she says. "You are too exhausted. Everything will become clearer in the weeks ahead." "Just one more thing" We are interrupted by the nurse who injects a needle full of codeine into the shunt in my hand. She and Sally talk for a while as if Im not even there. It's something I am growing used to. It seems the nurse knows more about my situation than I thought. She is rather amused and quite interested in how easily I have accepted my fate. She had a boyfriend of her own she would like to do the same thing to. They talk long enough for me to grow sleepy. In fact, I actually do doze on and off as they talk. Finally, though, the nurse leaves and Sally and I are alone together again. "You had one last question?" Sally said. "Yes" I slurred, hardly able to stay awake. "The man outside you were talking to" "Yes?" Sally says, looking amused. "Who." "You know the answer to that silly. It's Kyle of course. I would have brought him in here but I thought we should have this little time alone. It's going to be one of the last times you and I will be alone together. You see, Kyle and I have no secrets from each other. Tonight, we're going out to celebrate. And then we'll go back to his place and fuck each others brains out. We've been lovers for months now. Certainly you should have been able to figure that out?" I think she could see the pain in my face-and this time it isn't a physical pain. "There there sweetheart. Don't fret. Everything is going to be just fine. You'll see. It will be so much fun having you for a slave. And I'm sure you and Brenda will learn to love each other. Of course, you'll have to find a different way to do it. After all, you'll both be lesbians from now on." Sally laughs again. "I really have to run now. I'll come by tomorrow with your laptop computer and you can type up what happened for that tg-fiction site I told you about. I already gave them my side of the story. I promised you'd give them yours. Remember?" She leans over and lightly kisses my lips. "Sweet dreams precious. Sweet dreams of turning over!" "Yes" I say sleepily as she walks out the door. "Soon I will." And I realize that in my mind it has happened a long time ago. I have already been turned over. (the end)