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From: Paul Wayman To: Paul1954 Subject: try gain Date: 21 November 2000 22:53 Girl-e (Parts 3&4) by Paul1954 The next two parts of the serial currently running on 'The Outside' http//:www.btinternet.com/~theoutside Part 1. Man On A Mission! Part 2. A Wolf In Ewe's Clothing Part 3. From Haven To Hell Part 4. A Voice From The Past Part 5. A Sheep in Sheep's Clothing Part 6. Currently in progress (continued from part 2) Part 3. From Haven To Hell It was with a heavy heart that I walked away from Charlie's and back towards Trevor's studio, to pick up the i.d. that should be ready for me. I would rather never have gone near neither him, nor his studio ever again, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to last for very long without some form of identification so it was only a short while later that Trevor opened his studio door to me. I soon found myself following him up his stairs towards the scene of my degradation and then sat down in a rickety chair while he went to fetch my papers. "Here you are love. A driving license, birth certificate and passport. These will get you past all but the most intense scrutiny" he said, passing me the small bundle of documents. I said nothing as I took them from him, making sure that my hand kept well away from his, and I opened the package slowly and took out the birth certificate. I read the name at the top, which read 'Amanda Bradshaw', followed by the names of my ficticious parents, Harold and Betty Bradshaw. I looked at the date of birth entry and saw that I was just over eighteen years old, apparently. It took all of my efforts to stifle the state of hysteria that I could fell building within me as I considered the fact that I should at least be grateful that I had passed that magical milestone for a youth. This meant that I could order a drink in a pub, vote, or even take a man's hand in marriage without having to ask for my parents permission. I think I was on the verge of laughing, or maybe it was crying, when Trevor spoke to me again. "They'll be no problem, I can assure you. Amanda Bradshaw really existed". His intervention stopped the flight of fancy that I had been pursuing reluctantly, and the detective in me came back to the surface at his words. "B..but how? I mean, I made that name up on the spur of the moment"! "When I do a job it gets done properly," he said with a degree of professional pride". "Bradshaw is not an altogether uncommon name, and it didn't take too long to find a real Amanda Bradshaw who was about the right age, and who died shortly after being born. The rest was easy". I continued to leaf through the remaining documents and saw the passport and driving license with one of the photographs that I had innocently posed for sealed in place, apparently tamper proof. It was an impressive piece of work indeed. Oh, how I would have loved to have been able to arrange a visit to Trevor's studio in my former capacity! That thought - 'in my former capacity' - sent a shiver down my spine. It seemed to indicate that I accepted that there would be no going back for me, to my life in the Police and with Louise, and I wondered if that was truly the case! Being the pragmatist I knew that I would have to start thinking that way if I was going to survive what had happened to me, but emotionally, I was finding that too hard a step to take right now. "Of course, if you're hard up for some cash I could always arrange another session for you. I've already prepared the proofs from earlier, and they are impressive stuff. I'll have no trouble selling them. You're good enough to make quite a bit of money at this game if you're interested". I could feel my anger rising as I looked around to where I had been so shamelessly displayed only a few, short, hours ago, and was grateful that it had been covered up again, hiding the scene of my debasement. "I don't want to be in 'this game', or any other game that you might have connections with, you bastard. You just watch your back 'Trevor'. You might be getting a visit from some friends of my soon". I pushed past him and stormed down the stairs, hearing his hollow laugh in the background. I was sure that it was just bravado on his part, and that he might feel a little uncomfortable for a while, until he was sure that my threat was an empty one. I was grateful when I got back outside into the fresh air again, and started walking as fast as I could to put some distance between myself and this whole, damn, place. As soon as I calmed down though I reminded myself that I had no idea where I was going to go now, or who could help me. The only person that I could think of turning to was Doctor Bradshaw, and she wouldn't be in her office again until tomorrow, if I was lucky. Tonight was going to be a long night. * * * * * * * My earlier thoughts proved to be correct. I don't think I have ever known a night to drag on so much. I had nowhere to sleep so in my naivety - if you can believe that it possible that a hard-nosed Police Detective could be classified as naive - I made my way to the West End and propped myself up in the corner of an all night coffee bar. At least I could last out the night here without attracting too much attention, or so I thought. I soon found out that this wasn't the most intelligent of moves to make, and that I hadn't really taken into account the form I now possessed when I chose this place as a temporary sanctuary. Within minutes the type of low-life scum that I had once held power over, but not any longer I was soon reminded, sat down opposite me whilst I turned my gaze to the floor, hoping that he'd go away if I ignored him. "Hey sweet thing - I'm looking for some action. What'll it cost me then, for the works"? Shit! I couldn't believe it. He was actually talking to me and thought I was a tart! I suddenly realised that I had seated myself in a corner and that I was penned in. There was no way I could avoid, or get past him. I immediately recognised the position and danger that I had put myself in. I had been thinking like a man and not a young woman. I should never have put myself in a situation like I had, where I was vulnerable and had no chance of escape. I felt so foolish, and more than a little scared as I took in the sight of the man opposite me for the first time. He looked somewhat drunk and I could smell the alcohol on his breath and clothes. He looked to be in his late thirties and was as sorry a specimen of the human species as I had ever seen, slumped over the table as he was. "Go away!" I did my best to hiss at him. His face suddenly took on a more threatening appearance and as he sat up straight in his chair, I was reminded of how much smaller and weaker I was now, in relationship to him. I looked around the coffee bar to see if there was anyone else I could turn to if he became violent, but everyone here suddenly looked so sinister to me and to my frightened eyes, all potential predators. Suddenly, the man opposite me grabbed me by my hand and his stronger grip hurt my small wrists, causing me to wince in pain. "Owwww!" I cried out, "stop it - you're hurting me". I sounded so girlie and pathetic - even to myself - that I wasn't surprised when the only response I elicited from him was an evil grin and his demand restated. "I said, 'sweet thing', that I was looking for some action. If you're not going to tell me how much it'd cost me then maybe I'll just take what you've got to offer, no charge". I could feel the tears spring to my eyes as he continued to squeeze me and I was almost at the point of giving in to him, just to stop the pain, when I felt him release me. I looked up and was surprised to see another man twisting my assailants arm behind his back. "I think the lady is trying to tell you that she isn't interested so why don't you just leave her alone and get yourself out of here" he said to him and then let his arm drop. The first man felt his arm gingerly, and then stood up and turned to leave. "Okay - okay! I didn't know that she was one of yours Jezz. It won't happen again" he said, and then left the coffee bar, as quickly as he could. My protagonist sat himself down in the chair that my 'would be' rapist had just vacated, and looked at me. "You know, you could have gotten yourself into a lot of trouble trying to do business in here without any protection." "No .. no - you've got it wrong. I just came in here for a coffee" I replied, feebly. "Don't give me that shit - I know what you're here for. You're very pretty you know and could really pull the punters in, but this is my territory, and the only girls that work here are my girls. You really my protection you know, to keep away vermin like that so why don't you let me fix you up with a customer and then we can talk about a more permanent arrangement". Things were really starting to go from bad to worse for me. I had escaped one terrible fate only to be rescued by a pimp, and the last I need was the type of protection that he would provide. I knew that the only place that his kind of protection would have offered was of me, flat out on my back somewhere, spreading myself for some man. "O..okay, but I need to clean myself up first. That bastard really hurt me" I said, dabbing at my eyes and seeing a large streak of mascara, colouring the tissue. I desperately needed to find a way out of here and saw that there was a single washroom, near an exit. That might give me my opportunity. I walked over there casually and went in. I waited a few minutes and then left again, seeing that the man named Jezz was looking away from me and talking to another man. I felt myself shudder, knowing that he might actually be setting up a deal with him, where I was the collateral. If I had ever had any doubts as to my next course of action then that decided things for me. I determined to make a run for it, and now, so I quietly went outside and then ran as fast as I could, putting as much distance as I could between myself and that place. It seemed as if I had run for hours before I let myself relax, but no sooner had I done so that I realised that, even outside on the streets, I was no better off. I still had no shelter and the streets were no place for a young girl. Yes - a young girl, and I would have to start facing that fact because that's what I was. I eventually found some shelter in an unlocked shed in someone's back garden. Not the most comfortable place that I have ever spent the night, but at least it was safe and nobody would think of looking for me here. I didn't get much sleep though. * * * * * * * Eventually, I saw the first signs of dawn approaching and I left my temporary shelter and made my way to Euston station. I would be able to travel to Doctor Bradshaw's from there, if she was in. After a night sleeping rough I knew that I must have looked a mess so I went into alien territory, the ladies washroom, to freshen myself up. It felt so very strange, walking through the communal entrance and then being presented with two doors, one bearing a picture of a stick like figure of a man, and the other with similar picture, albeit with a skirt. I had never before even had to consider what to do at this point, having never expected to make a conscious decision on which door to enter, but that is exactly what I had to do now. It only took a second of course, but it seemed far longer and was, in its own way, as significant as anything that had happened to me over the last few days. I swallowed deeply and, as I watched the door open and a middle-aged woman make her exit, I took the plunge and went in, trying to look as natural as possible. Beyond the first door was a second, and as I opened it I entered a large room with a mirror covering a complete wall, at which a number of women were tidying themselves up. I noticed that a couple of them had let their eyes stray over towards me, and I half-expected them to cry out and scream at my presence but, of course, they did no such thing. I was just another girl, or a woman, as far as they were concerned, and they were merely checking me out, as women do to each other. I noticed that one of the more professional looking women turned her nose up a little at the sight of me, and I suddenly felt very conspicuous. Just how bad did I look? I didn't wait to find out and made a bolt for one of the empty stalls that were at the far end of the room and, abstractly, noticed the lack of urinals for which I unexpectedly felt very nostalgic for, to my surprise. I lifted up my skirt, lowered my panties, and placed myself down on the seat, feeling the cold plastic on my exposed behind. A sudden need to cry almost overwhelmed me. I must have still been in a state of shock, and was finding it hard to accept that all of this was real. How could I be sitting here, hearing other - other - women entering stalls beside me, and then emptying themselves without worrying that a man was here amongst them? How could they? But of course, I wasn't a man anymore was I! I was just another female in a man's world and I would do my business alongside them from now on, raising not even an eyebrow when I exited the stall and then stood next to them as we washed our hands, which is exactly what I did next. "Come on Bill, you've got to pull yourself together. Half of the world thinks nothing of being female, why should you!" I mumbled to myself without realising that I was voicing my thoughts aloud. An older woman standing two washbasin's down looked across at me for a moment, and I wondered whether she had heard what I had said, but when we made eye contact, she turned away. She most probably thinks I'm on drugs or something, I thought and then turned to look at myself in the mirror. Oh God! I really did look a mess. The makeup that Charlie had made me put on had run. Also, I looked tired, bedraggled and just a little pathetic if I was being honest and it was only then that I realised that I didn't even have any grooming equipment on me to make myself look any better - not even a brush, or a comb! I felt very ashamed of my condition and dampened my fingers before running them through my hair in an attempt to make it look at least a little presentable. I then washed my face and got rid of the make up and if I didn't look glamorous, then at least I looked fresher than I had, and a little more presentable. I offered a silent prayer of thanks that my hair had remained short and then left the washroom and went back into the station's main concourse. I had intended to wait and phone the clinic originally, and to see if Doctor Bradshaw was in before deciding on whether I should travel to her clinic to see her. That would have meant waiting until she had got into her office though, and I could feel my nerves starting to fail me after last night's incident. I decided there and then that she was the only person who might be able to help me, so I checked the train timetable and saw that one was due to leave in ten minutes. I purchased a ticket with the last of my money and headed for the appropriate platform. Forty-five minutes later the train arrived at its destination and I set off for the three-mile walk to The Beaufort Clinic. That took me just over an hour as I was still finding it a struggle to walk for very long, having to constantly think about virtually every step that I was taking with my new configuration of hips and legs. I got there eventually though, at about ten o'clock, so I assumed that Doctor Bradshaw must have been in and walked in through the main entrance to where a receptionist was sitting. She looked up from the terminal in front of her and raised a questioning eyebrow at me, radiating an aura of superiority such as only a Doctor's receptionist is capable of. "C..Can I see Doctor Bradshaw please" I asked, suddenly unsure again. If it had been possible her look became even more haughty, astonished no doubt, at the fact that I had possessed the temerity to speak before I had been spoken to! "I am afraid that the Doctor is with a client at the moment. She only sees people by appointment I'm afraid, and I take it that you haven't got one"? I wondered why the thought that I might have an appointment seemed so unlikely to her. I then realised that there can't be many natural born women that come here as patients, if at all, and there was no question to anyone that looked, that that was exactly what I appeared to be. "No. No I do not have an appointment, but I am sure that she will see me without one. I..it's important that I see her as soon as possible" I replied, almost pleading with her. "No I'm sorry. She has not got a free slot until Thursday next. I can fit you in then, if that's convenient for you, and if you can explain why you want to see her?" she said, enjoying my obvious discomfort. I was starting to get upset now and felt tears starting to well in my eyes. I realised that I must have looked a real state, remembering the sight that had greeted my in that station washroom mirror, and was beginning to get desperate. If I couldn't see the Doctor then I just didn't know where to turn to next! "Please - please! Will you just tell her that I'm here, and that it's a matter of life and death? Just do that for me - please"! I think that my bedraggled and desperate state must have dredged up a small amount of the well disguised compassion that she had been hiding, because I saw her look soften a little. After another moment's hesitation, she picked up the phone and within a second or two was speaking to who I presumed was Doctor Bradshaw. I listened, avidly, to one-sided conversation that followed. "Hello Doctor. I am sorry to disturb you but there is a young 'lady'" she said, turning up her nose at that point, "who insists on seeing you". There was a pause for few seconds, whilst the Doctor replied, then the receptionist spoke again. "Yes..yes. I know. I told you that you're fully booked but she seems very upset and says that it's a matter of 'life and death', apparently"! Another pause. "Yes..yes - I know. Can you just wait a minute" she said into the mouthpiece, and then turned back towards me. "The Doctor has asked me what your name is". I was about to say Bill Cartwright, but just stopped myself in time. "It'S Amanda .. Amanda Bradshaw" I replied. The receptionist's eyebrows went stratospheric at that point, threatening to leave her face completely, as she stared at me. I realised then, of course, that I had used the same last name as the Doctor, and the receptionist was, no doubt, anticipating some juicy scandal that might unfold as she talked back into the mouthpiece once more, and repeated my name to the Doctor. A moment later she hung up and faced me once more. "Well, Miss Bradshaw" she said, emphasising the last name, "it seems that the Doctor would like to see you after all. If you wouldn't mind taking a seat I will let you know when she's ready for you. Would you like a cup of coffee, or tea maybe?" she asked, her tone suddenly becoming solicitous. God - Would I! I had had nothing to eat or drink since last night, and her question now reminded me of that fact. I nodded eagerly as she went away to get me the coffee which I then had to force myself not to gulp down. About a half an hour later she called my over again and led me to a room. I started to enter slowly, suddenly nervous. I had been so intent on getting to see her that I had not even thought about what I was going to say to her. Where was I going to start? I entered the room with my mind racing, the receptionist at my shoulder. "Doctor Bradshaw. Here is the young lady who demanded to see you," she said, rather haughtily, once more. It was still very unnerving for me to hear myself described as a young lady for, deep down inside, I still felt 100% male. I suppose that I would have to get used to it for the time being though, so I didn't dwell on the fact for too long as I waited for Doctor Bradshaw to look up. She was still writing down some notes, no doubt from her last patient, but lifted up her head at the sound of her receptionist and then looked across at me, her face bearing no hint of emotion. She scrutinised me carefully, taking in everything about me in just a few seconds, and then motioned for me to sit down in the chair that was positioned in front of her desk. "Now then Miss Bradshaw, I believe. I heard that you needed to see me as a matter of life and death. Would you care to enlighten me as to the nature of your call"? I wished that I had chosen a different name for myself, for she emphasised my adopted name with an air of intrigue, and I felt like I had already built a barrier, or an element of suspicion, between us. Once again though, I was struggling to know where to begin. "Do..Doctor Bradshaw - I am so sorry for the way that I have arrived here bu..bu..but..". I could think of nothing to say. The words that I was trying to form in my head refused to shape themselves into anything intelligible and instead, I found myself blubbering as tears started to make their way down my face. This reaction was fast, starting to become a habit for me. My emotions seemed to have been on a roller-coaster ride since my change. I started to panic at how my body seemed to be taking over, stripping away my capacity for rational thought at the fist inkling that anything might be a problem. How could I claim that I was not really a girl or that I still felt like a man anymore? I was not reacting like one. Would Detective Bill Cartwright have ever reacted in such a way? Would he have broken down in this way, every time that he was faced with a problem? I next became aware of someone's arm around my shoulder and of being passed a handful of tissue paper, which I buried my face into, gratefully. I was then passed a plastic up of cold water which I drank, more for something to do rather than because I needed it! "Okay - now that's a little better. Why don't you try to relax and tell me why you came here, and why you're in such a sorry state! No one's going to let you come to any harm whilst you're here, if that's what's worrying you". Oh, how those words seemed like nectar to me. To be protected and surrender myself to the sanctuary of the beautiful Doctor Bradshaw. "Doctor; I..I'm sorry about that little display there, but I am not quite sure how to start". She said nothing as I paused, allowing me time to compose myself and to get out whatever it was that I needed to say in my own way. "You see, I haven't always been like this. We met just a short time ago in fact, when you helping me in my official capacity". She furrowed her brow and leaned across her desk as she obviously tried to recall where she had seen me. "I'm sorry but I don't remember you at all, and I have a very good memory for faces. Did you say that we met in an official capacity"? I nodded, not sure why I couldn't just tell her whom I really was, and why I was drawing my explanation out longer than I needed to. I decided that I had been avoiding the very reason that I came here for long enough. "Doctor, you would probably know me better in my former guise, that of Bill Cartwright". I saw a spark of recognition in her face as I mentioned my name, followed by a look of puzzlement as she tried to reconcile the man's name I had given her with the young girl sitting opposite her. I was weary though, weary of the game of cat and mouse that I had started, and wanted an end to it. "Detective Bill Cartwright, brother of Terry". Her face went very pale at the sound of my full title, and I thought that she was going to faint for a moment, a reaction that was far in excess of what I had expected. She reached out for a cup of water to steady herself. "No! I don't believe it. But how - how is this possible" she said, but it sounded as if she was talking to herself rather than to me. I watched her as she stood up and walked out of the room before returning a couple of minutes later. Again, I was puzzled at how extreme her reaction had been but shrugged it off, presuming that it's not everyday that someone she knew as a middle-aged man returns to see her as a genetically perfect girl, some twenty-five years younger. She seemed somewhat calmer now as she stared at me. "Okay, then let's say for the moment that I believe the incredible claim that you've just made. How are you going to prove it, and how did .. this come about?" she said, her hands gesturing towards my body. I took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair. "Well, it's a long story". * * * * * * * It took about an hour and a half to tell her everything that had transpired since I had last sat in her office, and she listened intently, only interrupting when she needed a point of clarification, or with the occasional exclamation. I left nothing out. I told how all about B/GRL-E and how Charlie had been a long-time informant of mine. I told her how I had used that relationship to coerce him into setting up a meeting with the drug's pushers, and how I had posed as a transsexual, using Terry's records to provide me with a history to gain their confidence. I then told her how I had inadvertently been injected with the B/GRL-E compound and of how, later that evening, how it had changed me into the girl that was sitting opposite her now; a complete girl, it would seem. Tits, clit, even ovaries, I suspected, although I would only know that for sure once a proper medical examination had taken place, or when I had my first period. That thought made me shudder as I remembered the agonies that Louise always been through. I told her how Charlie had taken me in that first night, and how he had arranged for my new i.d. (I apologised then for using her name), and how he had then made me pose for pornographic photos as payment for services rendered. Finally, I told her about how he had kicked me out, and how I had travelled here, coming to her because she had been the only person who I had thought might be able to help me. She sat there calmly, having heard everything I had to say, and I just prayed that she believed me, because I wouldn't know where to turn to next. "Okay - so let's just say that I believe all of this. What do you expect from me"? I was shocked for a moment, because I hadn't really given too much thought about what might happen next, after I had convinced her of the truth of my story, other than she would help me. "I..I'm not really sure!" I said feebly, feeling embarrassed at my lack of any sort of proposal. She nodded. "Okay, then will you do something for me? Please, stand up and walk over to that door over there and then turn, and come back over here and sit down again". I did as she said, not questioning her for a moment but all the time wondering where this was leading. "I thought so. Okay - I believe you, and I think I know how I can be of help to you". "But how - what did I do to make you believe me?" I exclaimed, momentarily flustered just a little annoyed at the game that it seemed she was playing with me. For the first time since I had entered her office I saw her face break out into a gentle smile. "Bill, or rather - Amanda, you might look like a very pretty young girl but I've never seen a girl walk like you did just then, and it's not only that but have you seen how you're sitting? You haven't even got your legs closed properly. No, you couldn't be anything else other than a man, and the one thing I am very good at is helping to turn men into women, and it seems that you've already got quite a head start. Also, from what you've just told me it seems that this could well be permanent, and like it or not, you're going to have to learn a lot about what it takes to be a women. There's more to it than just mean the obvious things like make up and wearing a skirt you know"! I had already been made more than aware of some of the subtler points of womanhood, by the type of trouble my ignorance and naivety had led me into, so I wasn't going to argue with her on that score. I was still finding it difficult to emotionally accept what she was telling me. Sure, Charlie and the bastards that did this to me had told me that what had been done to me was irreversible, but I had always harboured the notion that they were just telling me that to make me sweat and ensure that I suffered for the time being. But what if they had been telling me the truth? What if I was really stuck like this, maybe for the rest of my life? How would I cope? Although this had been staring me in the face some time it was still quite a revelation to me and would, if I let it, tear me apart. I wasn't going to let that happen though. If I did then Terry's killers would never be brought to justice, I was sure of that. No, if I had to be the most convincing girl I could be to track them down then that's what I'd be. Once that was done then I would know my fate, one way or the other. Maybe the help that Doctor Bradshaw could give me hadn't been the type of help that I'd come looking for but I could not deny that it was needed, and maybe it would be better for me in the long run. I knew nothing really, about being a girl and who better to teach me! "Okay Doctor, I'll gladly do as you say but I've got nowhere to stay, and no money. How am I going to survive"? "Hmmm - well, you've got the right name I suppose. Maybe if you posed as my daughter, or a niece even, then it would be quite natural for you to spend some time with me. An alternative though might be for you to work here on the staff. They have some live in quarters and I'm sure that something could be arranged. For now though, I suggest you use some of the facilities here and tidy yourself up. I'll ask Stephanie to see if she can find out if there's a spare room for you while I think of how to arrange this. One thing I don't understand though. I would have thought that your first port of call would have been to the Police"! "No - I couldn't let them see me like this. There's only one person I would ask for help there, anyway, and he's not there for another few days. "Never mind - you're be okay now". "Th..thank you. I really don't know how I can ever repay you for this Doctor. This is the first bit of good news that I've had in a while. I don't know what else I could have done". "I was fond of Terry and want his killers caught just as much as yourself. Besides, don't get the notion that this will be a free run. If you sign up to work here then work you must, otherwise questions will be asked. We'll have to work on discovering just how feminine you can be in our spare time". I left her and sat outside her office again, until the receptionist, who I now knew as Stephanie, could tell me where I'd be staying. As grateful as I was at the help I was receiving, I was also a little worried. I hadn't banked on having to work, hoping that I could use all of my time to track down my quarry, now though, I would not have that available to me. On top of that was the fact that I would have to work on my 'femininity', as the Doctor had described it. It was all getting too much for me. Still, I would just have to take one thing at a time. * * * * * * * Charlie went to his cupboard, took out a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a large drink. Despite his wanting to enact some sort of revenge on Bill Cartwright he was starting to feel a little guilty at how harsh he had been with him. After all, some of the responsibility for what happened must also be down to him. Any further thoughts along these lines were halted by a loud knock on his front door. He checked his watch and saw that it was late, and wondered who it could be because he wasn't expecting any visitors. He got up and went over to the door, opening it just a crack, to see a large man standing there wearing an overcoat. "Are you the man known as just Charlie?" he asked him, not even bothering to attempt to disguise a sneer to his voice. "Who wants to know?" Charlie replied, beginning to get an uneasy feeling about his visitor, making sure to keep the weight of his body behind the door. "I'll take that as a yes then, you certainly match his description" he replied, and before Charlie knew it, he had kicked in the door and sent Charlie sprawling to the ground. Charlie looked up at the man standing above him and felt his trousers becoming very wet as his bladder released its contents. "You've become one complication too many. You shouldn't have been too friendly with the filth," the man said as he brought out a gun with a silencer, and emptied its contents into Charlie's chest. * * * * * * * (next part) I beat the alarm this morning, and woke up at around 6:45am. It was the first time that I had achieved this feat in the three weeks since Doctor Bradshaw, who I was calling Jullie now, had arranged for me to stay at the Beaufort clinic. My mind drifted. It seemed like I had spent the entirety of that time exhausted, having to cope with both the job that had been arranged for me, and also the extra curricular activities that Jullie insisted I take, in learning how to be a woman. I had been a reluctant pupil at first, but Jullie let me know in no uncertain terms, that taking them was a condition of me staying here. It was soon after that, that she took me through my first session and, unbeknownst to me, had filmed the whole thing. It was afterwards when I had been getting ready to return to my room that she told me to sit down again. "Okay Amanda, make yourself comfortable. This is not the sort of situation that I usually find myself in. My patients tend to be self-referrals and actually want the coaching and help that I can give them. Because of this I find that nine times out of ten that I have to dampen the ultra feminine movements and habits that they have acquired, in their attempts to appear feminine. It's usually because they're over-compensating they come across as too femme, if anything". "And what's the reason that you're telling me this?" I asked, unable to keep an element of suspicion out of my voice as I wondered where she was leading me. "Well look at you now. Despite your new physiology, you are still sitting like a man with your legs spread wide. Now I can understand how that posture might be more comfortable for a man, with his slimmer hips and his strange arrangement of genitals, but you haven't got those anymore. There's nothing like that to hinder you now. Why don't you try sitting like me - you might actually find that it's easier"? I felt a little foolish as I looked down at myself and saw that she was correct. The trouble was, I had been sitting in this way for well over forty years and how could she possibly expect me change the habits of a lifetime overnight? "Go on - just try it Amanda, believe me - you will find it easier, or is there another reason why you don't want to try it? Is that little man in your head nagging you again? If it is then you're going to have to get rid of him, or at least hide him somewhere safe. If I'm going to be able to help you then you're going to have to be totally committed else we'll fail"! I realised then that she was assuming that I was adopting this masculine posture as a form of rejection of my female state, as if I was trying to cling on to the last remnants of my manhood, but that wasn't really the case - was it? I had something to prove to myself now. I thought I had accepted my enforced female condition pretty well, especially as it seemed unlikely that I would be able to find a 'cure' within the foreseeable future. Maybe that hadn't really been the case! I now had to make up my mind whether to face this challenge head on or accept that I would never truly be able to fit fully into society again, being a man trapped in a woman's body. The irony of my own situation compared to that of my brother Terry, did not escape me, and I was starkly reminded that many people probably lived most of their lives in the state I had described to myself. Well, I had never been accused of cowardice before and I wasn't going to change that habit of a lifetime, at least. I did the bravest thing that I had ever done in my life. I closed my legs together, sat as primly as it was possible to do and then looked back at Jullie. "Good, good. That's better Mandy," she said to me, encouraging me. "Amanda please Jullie, I prefer the full name". She laughed at my insistence of her using my girl's name, and then told me to relax. "Now I'm going to show you something that might make you realise just how long the journey that you've set out on really is" she said, turning on a television and then punching a button on a remote control. The screen sprang to life and I saw a room, much like the room we were in now. At first I thought it was empty but then a young girl walked across the line of site and then sat down in a chair in the far corner, her head looking down towards her feet. I couldn't put my finger on it at first, but there was something about her that didn't quite ring true, something that just wasn't right. Then I had it - it took me a few seconds but I got there. The girl was sitting all wrong and even the way that she held her hands had an air of masculinity about it. I was beginning to sense that this was not the only surprise in store for me when I then saw Doctor Bradshaw walk into the room and then talk to her. As soon as the girl looked up to answer the doctor, I recognised her. I was looking at myself! Initially, I felt annoyed for not recognising the girl sooner, but in my defence I was still a little surprised every time that I looked in a mirror, although it was getting a little easier with each passing day. I carried on looking at myself in dialogue with the Doctor, only just a short while ago, and as I did so I got a running commentary on where my mannerisms, gestures and movements were out of synch with my form. Another tape followed, which was of a similar setting but this time with a natural girl, so that I could plainly see the difference between us. I had to admit; it was quite a revelation to me. Everything about her was so different from what I had seen before when I was looking at myself. She seemed more expressive than I had been, smiling at the Doctor and using her hands more extensively, but always with a certain grace to her movements. She also looked far more comfortable sat with her one leg crossed over the other and everything about said that she was a female in a way that I had never been aware of before. I began to realise that there was more than just a set of genitals and a pair of tits that defined the difference between the genders, and also that most of it had previously been invisible to me. I knew now that I certainly had a lot to learn if I was going to be able to appear as natural as the girl that I was watching. I sat back, concentrating on keeping my legs together and looked around as the tape stopped and Jullie turned towards me. "I want you to spend just a few minutes more with me. I'm going to show you just a couple of things that will help you get by. You've already seen what a difference it can make just by the simple act of sitting correctly. Now if you stop clasping your hands together in your lap, and rest one hand on top of the other instead, you will look even more natural. You're going to be starting your job tomorrow, and it's important that you appear as natural as possible. Everybody thinks you are my niece and I don't want you letting me down"! She said it in a half joking manner, but I knew that she meant it, and over the next three weeks she had been as good as her word. I had been ruthlessly drilled in the finer points of femininity and had been made to practice and practice everything that she told me, until it became second nature for me. On top of that I had had to learn my new job, that of a clerical assistant, right at the bottom of the ladder again, and the combined effect of that had left me little time to think about anything else. Now though, was different. Just lying here I had the opportunity to think clearly once more, about my predicament I was reminded of how I got here. I realised that I hadn't even considered the mission that I had set out on during these last weeks, to bring my brother's killers to justice. My crash course in womanhood had taken up every last ounce of my energy and concentration. Recognising this, I sat up quickly and felt my breasts sway from my sudden movement. Some things were going to take longer to adapt to than others, apparently. I looked over towards the calendar on the wall and confirmed that today was Friday, gave a silent prayer of thanks that the weekend was approaching, and then decided I would take today off and call in sick. I now knew enough to be able to pass as a young female almost anywhere I reckoned, and now was the time to get back on the case. I reached across to the phone and dialled up Ainsworth's number. It was the first time that I had thought about him for weeks, and he must surely be back in his office by now. It was only as I heard the ringing tone that I realised that I hadn't prepared myself for this at all. What had I been thinking of? As far as Ainsworth was concerned Bill Cartwright was down as a missing person, someone who hadn't been seen since that fateful night when I had fled my own house. What would he have thought when some girl calls, claiming to be his missing Sargeant and partner in detection? My impetuosity had got the better for me for the moment, something that I had noticed I was more inclined to do as of late. I swung my smooth and pretty legs out the bed and then pulled of my nightwear before heading into the bathroom. I would take a shower whilst I thought about how I was going to handle this. I turned on the water and as soon as it was warm enough, stepped into it and squeezed a generous portion of shower gel into the palm of my hand. I could smell its delicate perfume as I lathered it over my body, and was reminded once more of Louise, and how good she had smelt with a similar flowery fragrance fresh on her body. Would that be how I would smell to a man now? Jullie had refused to let me use the sporty and pine based gels that I had always used before. She had told me that to become a complete woman I would have to dress and do everything like a woman, and that dressing was not just the clothing that I covered my body with. It started with subtle things like soap and shower gel, deodorant, shampoo - things like that. She had even tried to get me to take a daily bath instead of my shower, but I had dug my pretty heels in over that one. I might be prepared to change a lot of things but giving up a shower was not one of them. I did my best thinking in those short, invigorating moments. I continued soaping myself, hardly even noticing my hands as they ran over my breasts and washed my nipples. I was equally unimpressed as they slowly ran across my behind and then in between my legs. Although I would never have believed it possible, I had to admit that I was gradually coming to accept this body as my own and my lack of 'shock' was a measure of how 'normal' I was starting to feel. I was no longer surprised at finding these mounds on my chest, nor the lack of anything dangling between my legs. In fact, another confession, I also had to admit that in a lot of ways things were a lot easier without that lump of flesh and those overly sensitive testicles hanging there. Sitting was far more comfortable, and it was quite nice the way that my panties pulled up snugly into my groin, removing the need for me having to constantly rearrange myself. That was another funny thing - I had never been aware before, how many times I had needed to do that, only realising now that that need had been removed. Of course, there was a downside to that, and I soon discovered the female equivalent of trapped genitals; that of having your panties riding up into your crack, threatening to split you in two sometimes. I soon got used to that though, just as every other woman on the planet must have done at some time. Back to Ainsworth though. What was I going to say to him? I thought through a few likely scenarios before deciding that it would be far easier to tell him about myself face to face rather than over the phone. The thoughts of him seeing me like this sent a shiver down my spine but I knew that I would have to face it sooner rather than later if I wanted to continue on the case, and that was my one certainty in life at the moment. I finished my shower quickly, deciding that it would be better if I got out of the clinic before the rest of my office colleagues started arriving for work, and dried myself down. I pulled on my underwear, a jeans and jumper combination, and then put on a light covering of makeup. I must be adapting, because I now felt undressed going out in public without it. I grabbed a croissant, gulped down a glass of orange juice and then set off, a new sense of purpose fuelling my stride. * * * * * * * After working at the clinic for the last few weeks I had money once again, so I decided to take a taxi to the station. It was a bit of a luxury for me to do so, for I wasn't earning anything like the amount that I had done so previously, and I had also quickly discovered just how expensive it is to be a young girl in this modern age. Julie had insisted that I would have to do everything as any girl my age would, and that included copious amounts of clothing, makeup and various knick-knacks such as earrings that seemed to be a total irrelevance to me. Still, I supposed it was all working because I was out and about in public again and not even thinking about whether I would pass or not this time. After all, I WAS a girl and was even starting to feel like one. The taxi ride took me to the station and I was soon back on the train going in the opposite direction this time, of that which I had undertaken just three weeks ago. I went into the small convenience at the back of the carriage and checked myself in the mirror as I thought back to my last trip. What a difference! Then I was bedraggled, scared, still in shock after everything that had happened to me, and desperate for the help that Doctor Bradshaw would be able to provide. Now was a completely different story. I didn't look exactly confident in my newly acquired femininity, but I wasn't that wretched waif of three weeks ago either. If I was being honest with myself, I could even admit that I was actually quite pretty! That thought caused me to flush a little so I went back into the carriage and joined the rest of the morning throng making their way into the city. Just an hour later I was standing outside the police station where I had reported for work for almost every day in my long career. I was feeling suddenly nervous again at the prospects of meeting Ainsworth, despite the mental preparations that I had been making since I had woken. I went into the public entrance and approached the front desk where a young girl that I had never seen before was dealing with another enquiry. Eventually, my turn came around. "Eh, excuse me. I would like to see Detective Constable Ainsworth" I said, meekly. "Can I ask you for your name and the nature of your enquiry?" she replied, maintaining her poker face, no doubt assuming that it gave her a degree of gravitas, which it didn't - it merely made her appear officious. "Amanda Bradhaw, and it's of rather a personal nature..." I answered, but then, realising that this might be misconstrued, quickly recovered, "...concerning a case that he's currently on". She moved across to the phone without answering me and dialled out what I presumed was his extension. While I waited I felt quite pleased with how I had handled my first test, and the way that I had given my new name without hesitation. Still, I suppose when everybody that you've met has been calling you by another name for three weeks, then you do start to think of yourself in that way. Finally, after what seemed like a few minutes, the police officer put the phone down and indicated over to an uncomfortable looking set of plastic chairs set back against a wall, across from her desk. "If you will just sit over there, Detective Ainsworth will be down to see you shortly". I could feel her eyes boring into my back as I turned around and walked to where she had pointed. I wonder what she was thinking about me - could she have even thought that I might have been Ainsworth's girlfriend? I had to stifle a giggle at the thought and started reading some of the public information notices on the wall alongside me, as a way of distracting myself. I idly noted that they never seemed to change but started reading them anyway. After an interminable period of time the same police officer approached me and asked me to follow her to an interview room which I did, relieved that my long wait seemed to be over. A shiver passed through me as I recognised the room I had been taken to. It was windowless, fairly stuffy, and had the same uncomfortable chairs that I had been sitting on outside. It was also a room in which I had myself, conducted many an interrogation and I almost sat myself down on the 'inquisitors' side of the table until I was corrected and then changed to the other side. Would I ever enter this room again in my official capacity? Each day made it seem more and more unlikely. I was left alone for another five minutes but finally, my heart leapt as I saw Ainsworth enter the room. It was all I could do to stop myself from running over and embracing him, but I forced myself to stay calm and as composed as possible. "Uhhh - are you a ... Miss Bradshaw?" he asked me, looking down at a piece of notepaper. I struggled to find my voice for a moment, before I managed to stutter out my confirmation. He pulled up a chair and sat down opposite me, his face furrowed as he tried to puzzle out where he might have seen me before. "I believe that you wanted to see me, something of a personal nature and to do with a case I might be working on!" he asked, sounding suspicious. "Y..yes - I did. I..I've got some information that might be able to help you" I managed to answer, finding myself suddenly tongue-tied. I don't know just sort of reaction I had expected when I got here but I had naively thought I would just be able to get my story out, feeling comfortable with someone that I knew very well. The reality was very different though. In my current diminutive state, Ainsworth was so much larger than me and was, in his guarded actions, quite intimidating. I suddenly felt very helpless and vulnerable and could feel a tear start to form in my eye, at the same time feeling very stupid at the fact that I was reacting in such a way. It was just the type of thing a girl would do. That only seemed to make things worse and the combination of meeting a trusted acquaintance again after everything I had been through, along with my embarrassment, just opened the floodgates, and I soon found myself weeping openly. Confronted by such a feminine display of emotions Ainsworth did what any decent man would do. He got very awkward, fumbled around for a tissue to hand me and then called outside the door to someone and asked them to bring me a drink. I sipped the proffered cup of water gratefully and then tried to calm down a little, checking my face in the compact mirror that I now kept in my purse. As soon as I saw my reflection I felt mortified. My eyes were red and what little makeup I had put on that morning had run. I had seen many a similar sight in my career, but I had never expected to be viewing such a thing from a mirror's reflection. I excused myself and asked if I could freshen up for a moment, and a women police officer came and led me to a rest room, staying with me whilst I repaired the damage and was ready to return again. As I walked back into the room I noticed that two things had changed. First, Ainsworth's whole demeanour was considerably less hostile and second, the release of my tears had released my emotions and I now had a renewed sense of determination about me. I decided there and then that I would not beat around the bush any longer. This time, when Ainsworth started talking to me, I found myself better prepared. "Okay then Miss; if you're now feeling up to it would you like to tell me why you are here"? I swallowed deeply. "I..Ive got some information for you, regarding the whereabouts of Bill Cartwright" I answered him, and watched him sit up suddenly, all his senses alert. It seemed to bizarre to be referring to what was really myself, but in the third person. "You mean you know what's happened to him, or where he is?" he asked, his notebook open and ready to record anything that I might have said. "In a manner of speaking. He is alive and well, and sound in mind, if not in body". "Body! What's wrong with him? Is he safe - has he been harmed"? Ainsworth was almost leaping out of his chair by this stage, and I was starting to feel nervous again, seeing the agitation on his face. "Look Phil - this is going to be hard for you to believe but at this moment, Bill feels safer than he has done at any time during the last few weeks. He's right here in this station Phil, at this very moment". My familiarity with him caused him to hold up short, and he was eyeing me suspiciously again. I wasn't sure why I hadn't just come out straight and told him who I was and why I was acting like some stupid TV detective, revealing the solution bit by bit. Maybe it was just a lack of courage, scared at having a trusted colleague seeing his former Sargeant as a young girl. Whatever! I couldn't drag this out any longer. "Phil - it's me. Despite what I look like now I am Bill Cartwright!" I said, starting into his eyes and reaching across to grab his hand. The colour seemed to drain from his face for a moment, and he appeared speechless. At least he wasn't dismissing it out of hand however, and I wasn't going to give him the chance to. "Phil, after you left me in that pub - the last time anyone saw me - they injected me with a clean version of B/GRL-E. This is the result". I had pulled away from him now, and had stood up to show him my whole body, a testimony to the miracles of modern science, even it if didn't exactly feel that way to me. Despite the outrageousness of my claim I could see his acceptance of my statement in his eyes. I could also see something else, something that made me feel a more than just a little uncomfortable. It was appreciation - appreciation at what he was seeing. Ainsworth let out a deep sigh and pulled his hands behind his head and leant back. It all went silent for a while, as if neither of us knew what to say next. Finally though, he sat back up right again and looked at me. "Well, I don't know what to say Bill. At least they seem to have fixed those problems with the drug, and I bet you'd look great in a skirt". * * * * * * * (next part) "Thanks Ainsworth, but it wasn't necessary", I said to him as he held out a chair for me. I started to reach down to smooth my skirt and then realised that I was wearing jeans. I had come a long way in a short time. I had reacted quite instinctively. "Sorry, but it's an automatic response Bill. It's what I always do with a pretty lady" he said, virtually echoing my own thoughts. I just murmured in reply as Ainsworth called out for two coffees. It had been his suggestion that we continued our conversation in a small coffee bar just round the corner from the station, and it had been one that I had been more than happy to agree to. It had been a frequent haunt of ours in the old days, and we would come here whenever we needed some space and boy, had I ever needed some space. The close confines of the interview room had made me feel claustrophobic and jumpy. "You'd better not keep calling me Bill - it make raise a few eyebrows if we were overheard" I said to him, as he turned his attention back to me. "And I'd prefer it if you called me Phil, just like you were doing earlier, when you were upset. Calling me Ainsworth like you used to doesn't seem righ with the way you look now, and I guess you don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to your self"! Of course, he was right. "Okay - Phil. Now how about updating me on where things are with the case. I'm assuming that you're still on it of course"? "Oh, I'm still on it all right, but I can't say that I approve of who they appointed to take over the investigation. They've appointed Waters, Detective Fiona Waters. Shit - it just doesn't feel right going into something as sordid as this with a woman by your side. They just can't handle it the same eh - oh, no offence sarge - Amanda". "Non taken - Phil. I feel just the same as you, despite my appearance. I'm still 'all male' on the inside, at least mentally. The plumbing's purely female, so I've been told. I hope your assessment of her is wrong though, because I for one hope that Waters is up to it. If we can't find the bastards who put me through this then I could be stuck this way. Tell me my instincts are wrong though - please! The last I'd heard she was the 'bright young thing' from division, straight out of college and ear-marked for greater things". "Yeah - that's her all right. She's got theory coming out of every orifice, but little experience. Hasn't got us too much further forward either, despite all her training, I'm afraid". "I thought so but surely, haven't you got any leads from Charlie? He, at least, knows how to make the connections. That's how I got into this mess in the first place!" I exclaimed, running my hands down my body. "Of course we did Amanda. We pulled him in the day after you went AWOL. Had him in the station over night and gave him a thorough grilling. He didn't tell us anything though, and even denied being the 'middle man' for you and the drug runners. He told us that he was just in the pub that night, only there to give you information. After all, he was your informant. We couldn't prove anything so we had to let him go the next day". "Oh that little shit! When I get my hands on him again I'll ...". "Sarge - Amanda. Shit, this is going to take some getting used to. Haven't you heard - Charlie's dead! He was killed about three weeks ago, just a couple of days after you disappeared". My mind was reeling for a moment. I had been so out if it that I hadn't heard a thing. Charlie - dead! But who killed him and why? I took a sip of my coffee, more to steady myself than anything, and tried to make some sort of connection out of what I'd been told. Something was nagging at me - a feeling that I should be seeing something in what Phil had just told me, but I just couldn't quite get it. Phil continued to update me on what little progress that had been made in my absence and although I should have been shocked, I actually felt somewhat reassured, and then guilty for feeling so. There had been another two deaths, whilst I had been out of circulation, and at least it meant that those bastards were still active, and that meant there would more chances of catching them. Phil finished his update and I then started giving him the details of what had happened to me, since leaving Charlie's. He remained fairly tight-lipped throughout and I noticed that he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It didn't take e long to find out why. "Look Amanda - there, got it that time. I don't want to appear unsympathetic or anything, because that's far from the case, but what do you want to get out of this now? Where do you go from here, and why did you come and see me - specifically? His question rocked me. I had thought that it should have been obvious why I was here. I wanted to find out how to get my real life back. As to where I went, then that would be determined by what we agreed was the best course of action, after I had told him what had happened to me. He must have seen the confusion on my face, because he broke in again, not giving me time to answer. "Amanda, you've told me that you're unlikely to be able to change back, at least in the near future, so you can't just stroll in and join in the investigations exactly, can you. Not when you want to keep what had happened to you a secret, so where does that leave you"? A bloody good question! Where did that lead me, indeed? I had hoped that I would be able to pick up some of the investigative work that Phil was involved in, but it didn't seem that he was willing to let that happen, for whatever reason. I could feel my heart pounding at my breast as I struggled to find the best answer, the one that I should have been ready to give him. I couldn't think straight though, and felt a sense of panic building up within me. "I don't know what I want. I..I need to get back - to think this through," I said, my voice wavering with emotion. I felt so inadequate, so powerless. "That's a good idea Amanda, that's what I'd do in your situation. Are you going to tell Louise what's happened to you"? My situation! How, in God's name, could he ever imagine what I was going through in 'my situation'? And as for Louise! I had been avoiding thinking about her, still feeling ashamed at what she might think if she found out what had happened to me. Once again though, he gave me no time to form a reply. "It really isn't fair you know Bill" he said, slipping, "she's been half out of her mind with worry these past few weeks. She's blaming your missing act on herself, you know". No, I didn't know. God, how selfish I was? That thought had never occurred to me. My guilty feelings subsided a little though, when I remembered that night she had returned home. I could feel tears starting to build up in my eyes again, as I remembered the confrontation. "She kicked me out Phil - kicked me out! She thought that I was my own mistress for Christ sake. Go on - tell me how you'd deal with that"! My aggression put him on the defensive, and he raised himself on his seat, putting me in my place. "She came home and found a virtually naked girl less than half her age, prancing about in her own bedroom. What was she supposed to think? Go on - you tell me"! If it was sympathy I had come here for then I was going to be disappointed it seemed. I was certainly having a few home truths brought home to me, and it was becoming more than I could bear. I needed to get out of here - somewhere where I could sort things out in my head. I picked up my bag and stood up, ready to leave. I tried to control my voice again, not wanting him to see just how close I was to falling apart. "Look Phil, I appreciate your friendship, I really do, but I think it's time I left. I'm supposed to me working today and I should be getting back". His face dropped, and I could see that he was wondering whether he had come on too strong. He softened his tone a little, and stood up alongside me. "Okay, but keep in touch. You know that I'll do whatever I can" he said, and then watched me as I made my way towards the exit. "I mean that!" he said, and I looked back at him, one more time. I smiled and saw a look of relief on his face, at my reaction. I was glad. I knew that I would still need his help some time soon, and he had told me nothing that I hadn't needed to know, not if I was being honest. I finally hit the street and started walking, not knowing where I was going, nor what I was going to do, but I knew one thing though - I felt an absolute mess. I suppose that I should really have freshened myself up before I left the coffee bar, but in my eagerness to get away it hadn't seemed so important. I knew that I would have to rectify that need now though, and I recognised my feeling as a measure of just how far down the path of womanhood I had travelled. This wasn't the time to think too deeply about this though, because apart from the freshening up aspect, I needed to pee. I walked along the street for a short while until I came to a large shopping area and then looked for a large shop; one that was likely to have a restroom. That didn't take lo