The Conscription Lottery free porn video

FORWORD This story is by no means an original concept but the idea always appealed to me. So here's my take on it. Hope you enjoy. This story may not be re-posted without the permission of the author. THE CONSCRIPTION LOTTERY By Lana B. PROLOGUE It was the year 2125 and there was a shortage of women. With rare exception and for unknown reasons women were giving birth only to males. The underlying grounds of this strange phenomenon were widely debated. The prevailing theory held that this aberration was related to environmental factors. Namely, that a combination of chemical and bacterial pollutants in some inexplicable manner affected women's' reproductive systems and inhibited the conception of a female fetus. But other theories had been advanced as well. Some believed it was nature's way of establishing a method of population control. Religious zealots argued that God was sending a message to mankind to clean up its act or face slow eradication. And a number of scientists pointed a finger at the ongoing erosion of the degraded atmosphere's ozone layer. Each of these theories had their own proponents but the fact of the matter was that they'd all been based more on speculation than on hard evidence. While on the one hand no one could explain the reasons for the phenomenon with certainty its ramifications were, on the other hand, anything but uncertain. Nearly all births over the last half-century in the United States (and, for that matter, worldwide) were male. One only had to look at the last five census reports to see that over the past five decades less than one percent of all children were born female. As a consequence of this mysterious abnormality eighty-nine percent of the population of America was now male. With every passing year females were becoming rarer. Most eligible men now found themselves without suitable mates which caused a great deal of frustration. And their frustration bred social discontent. Molestation, homosexuality, AIDS and violence were all on the rise. And social and anthropological experts testified before Congress that things would deteriorate further if something were not done to address the problem with all due deliberate speed. What's more there was unanimity amongst the nation's brightest scientists that if the anomaly were not reversed within the next twenty to thirty years then the continuing existence of humanity might be placed in jeopardy. For as much credit as could be attributed to males for humanity's successes in areas such as art, music, technology and medicine, a man simply could not accomplish the biological function of bearing a child. And one of these medical successes mankind had recently achieved was the capacity to convert a male into a biological female. New medical and technological advances in the field of gender medicine permitted this result to be accomplished in a relatively simple manner: administration of a two-hour intravenous drip compound composed of biological, chemical, chromosomal and hormonal agents combined with the latest advances in nano-technology and gene-splitting research. It was a multi-faceted speedball but the pilot trials showed that it worked like a charm. No longer was it necessary for a male to undergo difficult and imperfect sexual reassignment surgery to effectuate gender conversion. Now, after undergoing treatment popularly coined by the medical community as GECID (gender effectuation-conversion intravenous drip), a male could be successfully altered into a fully functional biological woman capable of conceiving and bearing a child. The only downside to the whole process was that the gender conversion effectuated by GECID was relatively slow and progressive. Male-to-female gender transformation generally took about a year to complete. Unfortunately an insufficient number of males volunteered to undergo GECID-treatment. As it turned out less than one percent of the male population volunteered for gender conversion. This was a number that was far too small to turn the tide against the problems of the day. So after much debate Congress passed, and the President signed, the Gender Conscription Act of 2125. This Act provided that all males aged twenty-one through twenty-nine would be placed into a random lottery pool and that each year five percent of all eligible candidates would be selected to undergo GECID-treatment. While this legislation was not exactly warmly embraced by those who were "qualified" to enter the pool, it was widely though reluctantly recognized that this measure constituted a necessary solution to an otherwise indecipherable puzzle. And after all there was only a one in twenty chance that a qualified male would be selected for GECID-treatment in any given year. And mathematicians claimed that over the nine year period of eligibility a candidate's overall chance of being conscripted for GECID-treatment was less than twelve percent. So the chance of escaping GECID-conscription exceeded eighty-eight percent during the nine-year period of eligibility and this served, in no small measure, to alleviate some of the anxieties and fears of the nation's heterosexual males of conscription-eligible age. But there still remained amongst these candidates an underlying tension and concern that while it was not probable it was nonetheless possible that conscription could occur. For after all millions of candidates each year would be conscripted to undergo gender conversion which, overall, was not a small or insignificant number of men. The year 2125 became an uneasy time to live in for gender conscription-eligible males. PART ONE - LOTTERY FEVER Patrick Lawrence had a good life. He had a well-paying job as a lawyer with the U.S. Office of General Counsel in Queens, New York. He also had a spacious one-bedroom apartment only three miles away from his office and he usually walked to work when the weather was nice. When it was not he sprung for the short cab ride. Most importantly he was in good health. He worked out at the local gym three times a week and he was proud of the effects of his efforts. Although he was only 5'6" tall he weighed 165 pounds and boasted pectorals and biceps most men six inches taller envied. And he had valued and trusted friends with whom he attended ball games, played poker and drank beer. If there was any shortfall in his life it was the absence of a mate. But this was not something that befell only Patrick. There was a serious shortage of women and very few men Patrick knew had girlfriends or wives. "That was precisely the reason why the Gender Conscription Act was signed into law just six weeks ago," Patrick thought as he ate his lunch on this hot summer Sunday afternoon. And with respect to one of the provisions of this new legislation Patrick had already submitted his application to "mentor" a conscriptee. For it was recognized by the authors of the legislation that until some experience with the process was gained, conscriptees should not be simply tossed back to their customary lives to fend for themselves following GECID-treatment. After all, these conscriptees would undergo significant and traumatic changes in their lives and prevailing thought was that they would require the services of a sort of guardian to lend them emotional, psychological, and financial support while they made the transition from male to female over the year-long period it took to effectuate gender conversion. To this end conscriptees were not expected, nor were they even allowed to return to their former pre-GECID lives. It was decided that the interests of the conscriptee, and society, would be best served if the conscriptee were allowed to discreetly undergo this life-changing conversion under the auspices, supervision, and protection of an assigned mentor. And although the legislation was silent on the question of the conscriptee's fate after the expiration of the mentorship, it was widely assumed that the mentor would become the conscriptee's mate at the end of the year. So Patrick had submitted his application to mentor a conscriptee in the hope and expectation of finding a mate. All males at least thirty years old were eligible to apply for mentorships but Patrick had heard reliable rumors that the youngest applicants would receive priority. And he'd just turned thirty last week. The first Conscription Lottery had been held two weeks ago and the way Patrick had it figured there was a good chance he would be awarded a conscriptee from the first batch of unfortunate candidates. "I definitely have the inside track," he said aloud with a wide grin on his face. Patrick reflected some more on his chances. He was the right age at the right time. He had a good job. He had a clean bill of health. And he was an unabashedly heterosexual male who longed for a woman to love. This all made him smile. And if he was awarded a conscriptee he would show his appreciation by exercising his civic responsibility. Patrick had always liked children and he wanted a large family. So he was fully prepared to impregnate his new mate as much as she could stand it to do his share in ensuring the survival of mankind. As Patrick continued to ponder the benefits of the new conscription legislation he heard a knock on his door. He walked to the door and looked through the peephole. He saw a police officer and two men in suits. "What is it officer?" "Can we come in to talk to you sir?" Patrick thought for a moment and replied, "I'd like to know what it's all about first." "I have a warrant sir. Please open the door." Still looking through the peephole Patrick eyed the warrant the cop brandished. He unlocked the door and told the police officer again, "I'd like to know what this is about." "I understand completely but we can explain that to you best inside your apartment, sir." Patrick let all three men inside his apartment and closed the door behind them. "Okay then. What's going on?" Patrick inquired. One of the suits stepped forward. "I'm afraid, Mr. Lawrence, that you've been conscripted. You're going to have to come with us." "What? Are you crazy or something? I'm thirty! And I've just filed an application to mentor a conscriptee. I can't be conscripted!" "But I'm afraid you can be, and have been, sir. Men can be conscripted under the new law from ages twenty-one through twenty-nine. You were twenty-nine when the lottery was held two weeks ago and the law provides that the operative date for purposes of determining age qualification for conscription is the date of the lottery drawing. Congratulations Mr. Lawrence. You were selected in the first Conscription Lottery." Patrick's heart was racing now and he said, "But I never received written notice of conscription!" "Sir, there is no requirement of advance written notification of conscription. It is perfectly acceptable and within the letter of the new law to give contemporaneous oral notification as we are doing right here. Please come with us now sir." "This is preposterous! I'm not going anywhere! I know my rights!" And just when Patrick was about to advise the three gentlemen that he was an attorney he felt a sharp pain from the needle that was stuck into his left hip. He turned to his left and saw that the other suit had discreetly slipped around him. Blackness overtook Patrick before he could lodge a protest. PART TWO - CHANGE IN TIME Patrick slowly stirred around and opened his eyes. He was in a bed in a small room. He took in his surroundings and saw that the walls and floor were bright white. Everything was sterile-looking. Perhaps he was in a hospital, he thought. He wondered why. He felt the dull ache in his left arm and he gazed to the left and saw the tube that had been inserted into his inner forearm. This made him remember the encounter in his apartment. "Holy shit!" He tried to reach for the tube with his right hand but found that his arm had been restrained by a short leather strap attached to the side of the bed. "Get this tube out of me!" Hearing the commotion an attendant entered the room. "What's all the shouting about?" "Get this tube out of me!" Patrick repeated. The attendant looked at the empty plastic bag on the metal stand to which the tube in Patrick's left arm was attached. "Well, it's all done so you're right. It's time to remove the tube." As Patrick watched the attendant remove the tube from his arm a tall man in a white medical coat walked into the room. "Hello. I'm Dr. Finley. Congratulations. You've just completed GECID-treatment. As a consequence in approximately one year's time you will have completed your conversion to a fully-functional biological woman. You've been put through this because you were selected in the very first Conscription Lottery. In any event, I want to say thank you for your service to the country. I suggest that you try to make the best of it. By the way, I've heard that your mentor is a nice young man. An electrician or plumber, I believe. If you're lucky, perhaps you can be very happy with your new man." At that, Patrick fainted straight away. He never felt the prick of the hypodermic needle the doctor inserted into his right arm. Twenty-four hours later... Patrick slowly opened his eyes. He saw that he lay in a bed in a nicely appointed bedroom. Looking at the wallpaper he noticed the pink flowers and frilly curtains. "Hi. I'm Jeffrey Clark, your mentor. Glad to meet you Patricia." Patrick looked over to his left and saw the man sitting in the chair. "What do you mean Patricia? My name's Patrick." "Okay. That's just what they told me to call you, that's all. How about if I just call you Pat for now, okay?" Patrick thought for awhile and said, "Yeah. Fine." Patrick studied Jeffrey's face. He had dark brown hair, a tan complexion, green eyes, a longish nose and bushy eyebrows. He was ruggedly handsome. Patrick saw in Jeffrey's eyes that Jeffrey was sizing him up just as he had done to Jeffrey. "Well, I guess you know why you're here Pat. You've been conscripted. And I'm the lucky guy who was chosen to be your mentor. You're in my house in Spring Valley, which as you probably know is in Rockland County about thirty miles north of New York City. You were transported here under sedation from your local Conscription Center last night. If you're curious, and I know that I would be if I were in your shoes, I'm an electrician. I'll probably never be rich but I do make a comfortable living. Why don't you tell me a little something about yourself?" "Listen Jeffrey, I'm sure you're a nice guy and everything but I have no interest in being mentored by you. If it's all the same to you I'd rather just leave. I'd like to forget all about this and just return to my apartment. I want to go back to my job and friends. Okay?" Patrick noticed the serious look on Jeffrey's face. "I'm not sure you understand Pat. You've been conscripted. And yesterday afternoon you underwent GECID-treatment. Which means that over the next year you'll gradually transform into a woman. "You can't return to your job because it has been given to someone else. Your old apartment in Queens will be leased to another tenant. Even your assets, your bank accounts and stocks, are gone. They've been seized by the government to help defray the costs of your conscription. "So you see, Pat, you can't return to your former life because it no longer exists. You're going to stay here in this house for at least the next year while you go through your transition. This will be your bedroom. I'll provide for you and look out for your interests. I'll try to make you as comfortable as I can. If you need anything all you have to do is to let me know. This is your new life now and the sooner you come to grips with it the better off you will be." "Yeah, sure," Patrick thought. "You'll look after my interests. In fact you'll look after your own interests. All you want from me is the same thing I wanted when I applied to mentor a conscriptee." Patrick watched as Jeffrey stood up and walked toward the door and he noticed how tall he was. He appeared to be six feet tall, maybe even an inch or two taller. Gazing down now Patrick noticed the ring on his left ring finger. It appeared to be a diamond ring and a rather large one at that. It looked to Patrick just like a lady's engagement ring. He held his hand up before his face and gazed at the sparkling stone in astonishment. Finally managing to speak he asked, "Where the hell did this come from?" Jeffrey turned around and saw Pat staring at the ring. "Oh that? That's just sort of a friendship ring, you know, from your mentor. From me that is. Hope you like it Pat." Jeffrey smiled. He then turned around and exited the room. Patrick felt as if he were in a dream. This could not be happening to him. It just could not be happening. Just yesterday he was pondering the possibility of acquiring his own conscriptee to be his mate. And now he found that he was a conscriptee himself. He'd been allocated to some man he did not even know. What had seemed like such a great idea when he'd hoped to be on the receiving end didn't look so tantalizing now. In a manner of speaking Patrick had become an object of his own desire. "Gotta clear my head," Patrick said aloud and he pulled the bedsheet off himself and stood up. He noticed that he was naked. Looking over himself he saw no abnormalities. Taking in his new surroundings he observed how large the bedroom appeared. Patrick figured that it had to be over a thousand square feet. He spotted a bathroom in the far corner and headed for it. He relieved himself and took a long, hot shower. As he toweled himself dry in front of the sink he noticed all the hair in the tub. Looking at the towel now he saw that it too was covered with hair. Patrick then looked over his body and noticed the large hairless patches on his arms, legs, chest, and even on his pubic area. "Holy shit. I can't believe this." Looking for something to put on now Patrick stepped over to the large walk-in closet and opened the door and he received yet another surprise. For he set his eyes on a large array of dresses which all neatly dangled from hangers. There must have been fifty dresses hanging there in different colors, styles and fabrics. Patrick carefully examined the contents of the closet and could not find even one shirt or pair of pants. He couldn't even spot a robe. Nothing but dresses! Turning his gaze downward now he saw all the high-heeled shoes on the closet floor. They all appeared to be leather pumps in an enormous variety of colors. And the heels all appeared to be three to four inches high! Patrick didn't even see a pair of slippers there. "I can't believe this," he said aloud once again. He then decided to examine the contents of the rest of the room and opened the drawers of two dressers. He found an abundance of underwear. Women's underwear! There was an amazing selection of brassieres in different fabrics, sizes, colors and styles. And panties and slips. One drawer contained nothing but pantyhose. Thirty, maybe forty packages. He looked through the boxes and cases sitting on top of the dressers and found a plethora of jewelry: bracelets, necklaces, and more than a dozen pair of earrings. He noticed a large vanity nearby and walked over to it. He looked at all the cosmetics and implements he found there. The lipsticks, perfumes, bottles of foundation and nail polish, and the eye makeup. The brushes, combs and emory boards. Everything a woman needed was in this room. And the room was his. "This is fucking unreal," he announced. Then he saw a book on the edge of the vanity. On closer inspection it appeared to be a manual. He picked it up and read the title: A CONSCRIPTEE'S GUIDE TO GENDER CONVERSION: FACILITATING YOUR ADJUSTMENT AND ENJOYING THE PLEASURES OF TRANSITIONAL WOMANHOOD MADE EASY. Patrick threw the manual back on the vanity in disgust. "Fucking unreal," he repeated. Patrick realized he was getting cold which came as no real surprise to him since he was still naked. "No way I'm putting on one of those dresses, that's for sure," he thought. He returned to the bathroom and wrapped a clean towel around his waist. But his chest and feet were still cold. He walked to the bed and sat on its edge. He then bent over and put his face in his hands. "This can't be happening. What am I going to do, what am I going to do?" he asked himself. Patrick felt as if he were about to cry and might have if he hadn't been distracted by the approaching footsteps. He looked up and saw Jeffrey standing at the door. "I'm going to grab a bite. Why don't you get dressed and join me. Nothing fancy. Just sandwiches." "Get dressed? In what? One of those dresses? I don't think so. Why don't you lend me a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt? I'm sure you've got them around here somewhere." "Listen Pat, the clothes in this room are your clothes now. You need to start making your adjustment. Wearing my clothes will only delay the inevitable and impede your adjustment to your new life." "Well in that case I guess I'm not hungry then." "Okay. Suit yourself." Jeffrey left and Patrick walked to the bed and lay down. Before he could begin to think about his dilemma he fell asleep. When he awoke it was dark in the room and Patrick realized that it was nighttime and he'd slept for several hours. He turned on the light on the nearby night-table and walked into the bathroom where he doused his face with cold water. As he walked out of the bathroom he heard Jeffrey's approaching footsteps once again. There was a knock on the door and Patrick opened it a crack. He looked up at Jeffrey. "I'm having dinner Pat. Hot dogs and fries. You interested?" "I don't think so." "Okay. If you change your mind just get dressed and come downstairs." Thirty minutes later Patrick's stomach began to growl. He realized he was famished. He hadn't eaten all day. He was having difficulty remembering his last meal. His hunger pains increased by the minute and Patrick realized he was going to have to go downstairs for food. Which meant he was going to have to get dressed. And there was nothing to wear but what he'd seen in the closet. He certainly couldn't go down there wrapped in a towel, could he? After giving the matter some thought he decided he could not appear in a towel. Jeffrey had clearly said to get dressed before coming downstairs. Patrick walked to the closet and scanned the dresses. He reached for the closest one and grabbed it. It was a sky blue cotton dress. He examined it. "I can't believe I'm actually going to do this," he said as his stomach growled yet again and reminded him of his hunger. He walked back to the bed and tossed the dress onto it. He unraveled the towel and picked up the dress. He slipped the dress over his head and pulled it down. He then reached around the back and he pulled up the zipper. Then he secured the thin belt around his waist. Patrick walked over to the full-length mirror near the bathroom. Gazing at himself he saw that the hem of the dress ended at the middle of his knees. The overall impression was that he looked ridiculous. "I look like a man in a dress," he said aloud. Which is precisely what, Patrick thought, he was as he looked at his flat chest and masculine face. "I can't believe I'm wearing this thing," he exclaimed. He was about to leave the room when he realized something was not right. He wasn't wearing any underwear. He walked to the dresser and removed a pair of white cotton panties and he slipped them on under the dress. He also realized he was barefoot but there was no way he was going to put on a pair of those high-heels so he just headed out of the bedroom without shoes. Patrick found Jeffrey sitting at the kitchen table knocking down the remnants of a hot dog. "Hey Pat. Glad to see you. Let me get you some dogs." He did not say anything about the dress Patrick was wearing which Patrick appreciated because he was already embarrassed enough. Jeffrey returned from the stove with two hot dogs and a mound of fries. "Help yourself to the extras. Whatever's not on the table you probably can find in the refrigerator." But whatever Patrick needed was right there on the table in front of him: buns, pickles, mustard and ketchup. Jeffrey walked to the refrigerator and returned with a bottle of Sam Adams and he handed it to Patrick. "I find these work particularly well with dogs, Pat." It took Patrick twenty minutes to fully feed his hunger. "Hey Pat, how about I give you the grand tour?" "Why not." So for the next half hour Jeffrey showed his house to Patrick, room by room. The den, the living room, the dining room, the basement, the garage in which he saw Jeffrey's work van and his car. And the two downstairs bedrooms. Jeffrey slept in the larger of the two bedrooms which was as big as the upstairs bedroom assigned to Patrick. "Well Pat, what do you think?" "It's a nice house." "Yeah, I think so too. Nice and cozy. Well, I was just going to watch a movie on the vid. Why don't you join me?" Patrick agreed. "It's not like I have anything else to do," he thought. The movie was a western and Patrick had never liked westerns. He was asleep in a half hour. When the movie ended he was still sound asleep with a slight snore escaping his mouth. Jeffrey turned off the vid and looked at Patrick in the blue dress. Jeffrey was impressed. "Excellent beginning. It's only her first day and she's in a dress already," Jeffrey softly said with a big smile on his face. Jeffrey walked over to Pat's chair and he bent down and easily lifted her up in his arms. He carried Pat to her bedroom upstairs and gently deposited her on the bed. Just then Patrick stirred around and looked up at Jeffrey. "What's going on?" "Well Pat, you fell asleep during the movie and I carried you to your room." "Why didn't you just wake me up?" "You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to disturb your sleep Pat." "Well, thanks. I guess." "You're welcome. You know, you really shouldn't sleep in that dress. Would you like me to help you out of it, you know, maybe lower the zipper in the back?" "No thank you Jeffrey. I think I can manage. Goodnight." "Goodnight Pat. Sweet dreams." As Jeffrey walked out of the room he was smiling. Pat had used his name on the first day which supposedly was another good sign. "I think she's going to be a hot one," Jeffrey cheerfully thought as he closed the bedroom door behind him. Lying on his bed after taking a relaxing shower, Jeffrey reached for the manual on the nearby nightstand. He looked at the cover: CONVERSION HYSTERIA: A MENTOR'S GUIDE TO FACILITATING YOUR CONSCRIPTEE'S TRANSITION TO WOMANHOOD WITHOUT INDUCING HYSTERIA AND OTHER UNWELCOME REACTIONS. This book was given to all the new mentors by the Department of Conscription and purported to explain the role of the mentor in facilitating the transition of a conscriptee in a manner designed to substantially reduce, or even eliminate, much of the fear, anxiety, depression, resentment, and hysteria that could be engendered by the conversion process. Jeffrey opened the book and turned to the opening chapter entitled YOUR FIRST MONTH. He began to read. "During the first month with your conscriptee you may find that she is resentful, angry, and uncooperative over her new circumstances and expected lifestyle. Although it is widely believed that conscriptees should be expected and told to wear only women's clothes from the very first day they report to their assigned mentors, it is anticipated that this may result in anxious, angry or even hysterical reactions. It is suggested that you not reiterate your expectations once conveyed unless, of course, your conscriptee brings the subject up herself. "Make your expectations regarding your conscriptee's wardrobe clearly known once and then let the circumstances take care of the rest. The fact that only women's clothes are available to her will alone achieve the desired result. It is only a matter of time." Jeffrey had a big smile on his face. Although he wanted to read on, he was tired. He put the book down and he shut off the light and went to sleep. Jeffrey had taken three days off from work to help facilitate Patrick's adjustment into his home. During these three days they got to know each other a little better, primarily from eating meals and watching the vid together. As it turned out they had some common viewing interests, particularly mystery movies and baseball games. They were both big fans of the Metropolitan Yankees and already had watched two games together. They seemed to enjoy discussing the plays, the strategies, and the star players. And during these three days Patrick continued to wear a dress and panties, although different ones every day. He did this not because he wanted to but rather because he had no choice as he saw it. He certainly had no intention of ambling around naked, which was the only alternative. Or, as Patrick rationalized, was really no alternative at all. So he stayed in dress and panties but only out of necessity. However Patrick continued to walk around barefoot. He did not want to wear those high-heeled shoes sitting on the bottom of his walk-in closet. But his feet were taking a beating. He had stubbed his toes more times than he cared to remember. And he kept stepping on things that hurt the soles of his feet, like very tiny pebbles that had somehow found their way into the house. And his feet were constantly filthy. Patrick did not know how long he could continue on barefoot. Today Jeffrey was due to return to work. After stubbing his toes yet again Patrick decided he could walk around without shoes no longer. After Jeffrey left for work Patrick made his way into Jeffrey's room to see if he could find a pair of suitable shoes. But Patrick did not find any shoes at all in Jeffrey's room. What he did find was an interior door in the bedroom which was dead bolted and locked. Jeffrey undoubtedly stored all his clothes, shoes included, behind this door. "Shit," Patrick loudly exclaimed and he headed back to his room. He grabbed a pair of black pumps from the closet floor. He figured they would match just about any color, including the dark brown linen dress he was wearing today. He walked over to the bed and he sat down and looked at the shoes. The heels appeared to be 3" or maybe 3 1/2" high. "I have no choice," he timidly said and he slipped the heels on. He stood up and steadied himself. He took a small step. He knew that walking in these shoes would not be easy but he also knew that if he continued to walk around barefoot he would pull up lame. So he practiced. He discovered that by taking small steps and by placing the toe and heel down together he was able to walk, although he surely would not be winning any races. Patrick's barefoot days were, mercifully, over. Over the next five weeks Patrick lost all his hair except for his eyelashes and the hair on his head and eyebrows. Every time he showered he'd noticed the hair in the tub and drain until it stopped a few days ago. He examined his body and discovered why it had stopped. Because he had no more hair left to lose. He looked at his face in the mirror and could not make out any trace of his beard. Running his hand over his face he noticed how smooth it felt. Like he had just shaved with a new blade. Except that now there was no longer any need to shave. He was puzzled why his eyelashes and eyebrows and the hair on his head weren't affected but he gave up trying to figure it out. Two months had now passed since Patrick had come to Jeffrey's home and he was thankful that other than losing his bodily hair no other changes had occurred. That is if you don't include the weight loss. Patrick discovered when he stepped on the scale this morning that he weighed 150 pounds. He had lost fifteen pounds somehow. "Maybe I need to eat more?" he conjectured. Since Patrick was home alone while Jeffrey worked on weekdays he'd found that he had a lot of free time to expend. There was just so much vid he could watch, even mysteries and baseball. So Patrick figured he would take up preparing meals for the two of them. Actually he'd always enjoyed cooking so he believed it was natural for him to do it. And out of necessity, or so he reasoned, Patrick began to do the housecleaning and the laundry. If he didn't do it then it appeared it wouldn't get done. Besides he certainly had enough time to perform these tasks. He was actually glad to have found some additional things to do to fill all the free time on his hands. He wondered who did these things before he arrived here. In any event, he found that by keeping busy he didn't dwell on his miseries. And he also rationalized that Jeffrey certainly didn't have the time to do these things because he worked five days a week. And on weekends he seemed busy performing other tasks around the house like yard work and vehicle maintenance. Another month passed and Patrick noticed no other changes other than another weight loss, this time five pounds. He considered that maybe the treatment that had been forced upon him would cause only the hair and weight loss and not all of the other things he didn't even want to think about. But as he was standing before the bathroom mirror washing his face he noticed that something looked a little different. It then came upon him. His Adam's apple. It was not there. It had vanished. Examining his face closely now he saw some other small changes too. His lips looked a little puffy. His chin looked a little pointy. His nose appeared slightly smaller. And his face in general had taken on a slightly rounded and softer look. The changes were subtle but they were there. As he continued to gaze at his face he noticed that his legs were cold. His cold legs gave his whole body a chill. "Sure they're cold," he thought. "These dresses I'm wearing end at the knees and I've got no socks." He was also beginning to be bothered by the moist and dirty feeling he was experiencing on his feet by wearing shoes without socks. That made him think about the pantyhose he'd seen in the dresser drawer. Would they keep his legs warm? Eliminate the annoying clammy feeling? "Only one way to find out I guess," he said. He removed the red cotton dress and kicked off the black pumps which left him wearing nothing but the white cotton panties. He retrieved and opened a package of nude pantyhose and he slowly and carefully rolled them up his hairless legs and secured them over the cotton panties. He then put the dress and heels back on. "My legs definitely feel warmer now. And my feet feel dry too. Great," he said. But when he began to walk he discovered something else too. His legs felt better but in another way. As his legs brushed against each other when he moved about he experienced an erotic and almost titillating sensation. One which he'd never had before but which, he thought, was certainly not unwelcome. "Wow. That feels so good. A real bonus," he uttered and immediately blushed after realizing what he'd just said. "This is not good. I'm starting to enjoy this." He thought about removing the nylons but in the end he kept them on. He was simply not willing to return to the world of cold legs and moist feet. And to his dismay he also liked the way they felt. That night while he and Jeffrey sat at the kitchen table eating the lemon chicken, baked potato and buttered broccoli Patrick had prepared. Patrick said, "Jeffrey, I was thinking. Maybe you can lend me a few pair of socks and a pair of slippers. These high heels are killing my feet and I find that these nylons irritate my legs. I would really appreciate it. What do you say?" Patrick knew that he'd lied to Jeffrey on both counts. He'd mastered the art of walking in the heels to the point that he didn't even have to think about it when he ambulated. And he'd found the sensation of the nylons on his legs delightful. But wearing the high-heels and nylons was embarrassing him. Especially when he paraded around in them in front of Jeffrey, another man. He found it humiliating the way he could not help but wiggle his ass and swivel his hips as he moved about in the heels. Before Jeffrey could answer Patrick added, "Please Jeffrey? I'll still wear the dresses. Okay?" Jeffrey looked at Pat and felt sorry for her. She was blushing profusely. She was obviously embarrassed over wearing the high-heels and nylons but she had to become accustomed to them to make a proper transition. Agreeing to Pat's request could cause a setback. "I'm sorry Pat but I can't do that. It would violate conscription protocol which requires that you wear women's clothes. If I did as you asked I could be reprimanded by the Department of Conscription." "But how would they even find out Jeffrey?" "They have the right to come here and make an inspection, Pat. They could even make an unannounced visit. If they detected a serious violation they could even reassign you to a new mentor. And I believe they would consider it a serious violation if they found you wearing my socks and shoes." Patrick thought about what he'd just been told. "But why would they hold it against you. I would just tell them I took the socks and shoes myself?" "It's not that simple Pat. I'm your mentor. They expect me to enforce conscription protocol. It's my responsibility. And if it's not enforced then I'm the one who's held liable." Patrick reflected that he certainly did not want to be assigned to another mentor. He had been here three months now and had built a good rapport with Jeffrey. He even thought he liked him as a person. He seemed to be a good man who respected Patrick and even sympathized a little with his plight. Patrick sheepishly said, "Okay. Just figured I'd ask." "I'm really sorry Pat. There's nothing I can do." They finished their meal in silence and Patrick collected the plates and brought them to the sink where he began to wash them. Jeffrey looked at Pat from his seat at the kitchen table. From behind she looked like a woman. The red dress ending at the knees, the nylon- encased legs, and the four-inch black leather high-heels all created a very feminine appearance. Jeffrey continued to gaze at Pat. He admired her legs. They were actually taking on a shapely form. He noticed that he was beginning to get aroused. He hadn't been with a woman for over three years now. He figured he'd better stop looking. He turned his eyes away from her and said, "Would you like some help? I could dry?" No thanks. I've got it covered." "Okay. I'm going to the den to watch a little vid. Join me when you're finished if you'd like." Alone now Patrick continued the task at hand. He thought about his dilemma. How there seemed to be no way out. He silently reflected: "I'm in a dress, panties, nylons and high-heels. I'm in this house all day. I do the cooking, the laundry and the cleaning. I wash the dishes. So what does that make me? A maid, that's what. "And I can't get out of it. There isn't anywhere I can go. I've got no job or money. I'm completely dependent on Jeffrey for everything. If I tried to escape I'd surely get caught. I'd probably be assigned to a new mentor, which I don't think I can handle. I'm trapped." Tears began to fall from his eyes. Patrick wiped away the tears and returned to washing the dishes. Five minutes later he was finished. He really didn't want to face Jeffrey because he still felt embarrassed from their conversation of fifteen minutes ago. He decided he would return to his bedroom. In his room Patrick disrobed and he walked to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. As the water streamed over his body he looked down at his penis. It looked normal. It was the same four inches or so it had been since he attained puberty. "Thank God for small favors," he announced. He began to rub the bar of soap over his penis but he could not attain an erection no matter how hard he tried. "What the...?" Over the last three months Patrick had continued to masturbate three or four times a week as he'd done for the last fifteen years. But now it didn't look like it was going to happen. At least not tonight. He gave up the attempt and he finished showering and dried himself off. As he walked toward his bed he saw the manual on the vanity and he halted. He picked it up and looked at it- A CONSCRIPTEE'S GUIDE TO GENDER CONVERSION... He took the manual with him as he walked to the bed and got under the covers. It was still relatively early and he didn't really have anything else to do. He didn't want to go downstairs and run the risk of running into Jeffrey because he continued to feel embarrassed, even ashamed of himself in the aftermath of their dinner conversation. He'd virtually begged Jeffrey for socks and slippers. He opened the manual and began to read. "AN INITIAL WORD: Over the next year you will embark on a wonderful journey culminating in your conversion into a fully functional biological woman. The transition is a slow and progressive one and it is advised that you enjoy the trip. Savor each change as it overtakes your mind and body because you are a rare jewel who was lucky enough to be chosen to participate in this opportunity of a lifetime. "For after all women are a scarce commodity and in great demand. In contrast men are a dime a dozen. As a woman you will command attention and respect. You will have presence. You will be noticed and appreciated. And you will also enjoy all of the physical sensations and delights that come with womanhood that men can only dream of. "So do not fight your conversion. Rather, welcome it and embrace it. You are one of the few lucky ones." "Lucky my ass," Patrick uttered as he turned the page and looked at the Table of Contents. He scanned some of the chapter headings: Wearing Dresses; Putting on Pantyhose; Accessorizing; Hair Care; Mannerisms; Walking in High- Heels; Nail Care; Applying Makeup; Know Your Breasts; Feminine Hygiene and Tampon Use; Birth Control and Pregnancy. Patrick felt a chill run down his spine and he tossed the manual onto the nightstand. "Propaganda bullshit," he thought. "If I'm such a rare jewel then why do I feel so oppressed and humiliated?" The word "jewel" reminded him of the diamond "friendship ring" Jeffrey had given him and he held his left hand out before him and gazed at it. He'd tried to remove it but could not. Even soap and water didn't work so he'd given up after a month of trying. He watched the large stone as it sparkled and it almost hypnotized him. He shook his head to force himself back to reality. He then turned off the light on the nightstand. He looked forward to falling asleep to escape his living nightmare. Two hours later Jeffrey was lying in his own bed with his own manual in his hands. He wondered about Pat. "I guess she's mad at me and went straight to her room after dinner. Or maybe she's embarrassed." He shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to the manual. He'd already read the entire manual but wanted to read it once more to make sure he hadn't missed anything important. He began to read. "An Important Tip- As soon as you take delivery of your prized conscriptee you should consider and treat her as a woman. Although it will take up to twelve months for your prize to make the transition into full womanhood, under the provisions of The Gender Conscription Act she is legally classified as a female as soon as GECID-treatment is completed. "But more importantly by considering your conscriptee as a woman you will facilitate your own adjustment as a mentor to a progressively gender-converted companion. Although she may not appear as a female at first you will witness, in small steps, the wonderful changes to her body and mind that clearly establish her true gender." Jeffrey had read this passage a number of times but found that he hadn't tired of reading it over and over. He turned the page and read another tip. "It is suggested that for the first six months after you take possession of your conscriptee that you not articulate your impressions of her appearance. You should not even give her any compliments. Pretend that you are not taking notice of the changes in her mind and body that you will observe as time passes. "If during the first half of her conversion you mention her changed appearance it may serve to embarrass her which could retard her psychological transition and cause a setback. For during the first six months the conscriptee feels embarrassed and ashamed as her body and mind feminizes. Your failure to convey your observations will lead her to believe that the changes are not as traumatic or pronounced as they really are and that they are hardly noticeable or worthy of mention. Your silence will diminish her embarrassment and facilitate her ongoing adjustment. "In contrast, after passage of the halfway point you may observe that she has begun to enjoy the physical changes that are overtaking her. As and when you make such observations it's advised that you demonstrate to her that you've taken notice of the changes by complimenting her on her new appearance. This will serve to enhance her self- esteem and confidence in her new identity and lead her to embrace the ongoing physiological modifications as transition progresses onwards to its inevitable conclusion." Jeffrey put the manual down and turned off the light. He closed his eyes and smiled. He was asleep in five minutes with a contented look on his face. PART THREE - TRANSITION BLUES It was two months later and Patrick was sitting at the vanity in a pair of white cotton panties as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. "No doubt about it. My appearance is changing," he thought. His straight black hair had, naturally, grown over the last five months and it now dangled past his ears and halfway down his neck. He had come to simply parting it in the middle because he found it easier to brush and care for that way. But looking at his face he saw more disturbing changes. His nose had gotten smaller and had an almost "cutesy" look. His lips had puffed up some more too. And his chin now rounded into a soft point which gave his face an oval appearance. His cheekbones looked higher too. And his eyebrows had somehow become tapered arcs over his eyes. His eyelashes seemed to have thickened and grown as well. Studying his reflection Patrick considered that his face was beginning to take on the look of a woman's face. He wondered what he would look like with makeup on and he immediately suppressed the thought as his face reddened. He had lost some more weight too. He was down to 130 pounds. The muscle mass on his arms and pectorals he'd worked so hard to develop had disappeared only to be replaced by soft and slightly flabby fat tissue. And his voice sounded a little different to him also. It seemed to have taken on a higher pitch or perhaps a sultry timbre. There were no other changes in his body that he could notice although his nipples did seem to have become a little sensitive to touch and water over the last two weeks. His genitals seemed fine, all present and accounted for thank goodness, although he was still unable to attain an erection. He gazed at his hands and noticed that he needed to clip his nails. They seemed to be growing at an accelerated rate and Patrick found that he needed to clip them now every four or five days. He scanned the vanity for the nail clippers but didn't see them. He saw an emory board and grabbed it. He figured he would just file them down. But as he started to work he compulsively began to shape his nails into softly pointed contours. He did not know why he did this. The feeling had simply just come upon him. He finished and he held out his hands in front of him and gazed at his newly shaped nails. He wondered how long they were. He then took a ruler from the vanity drawer and measured them and found that they extended past his fingertips by a quarter of an inch. Much to his horror he found that he liked the way his hands looked when his nails were shaped like this. And as he continued to gaze at his hands he noticed something else too. His fingers looked a little longer and more slender than they had before. And his hands appeared softer also. They almost looked delicate. "They look like a woman's hands," he said aloud as if that proved the point. Patrick wondered what his nails would look like with nail polish on them and he blushed profusely. Reflecting on his actions Patrick felt ashamed of himself. He looked again for the nail clippers and ultimately found them on the dresser. He held his left hand out and looked at it. It appeared so attractive. The soft fingers and shaped nails made the diamond ring look so pretty. He rubbed the rim of his thumb's nail against the inside of his forefinger and he felt an erotic sensation that made his body softly shiver. He placed the nail clippers back on the vanity and felt humiliated that he'd compulsively enjoyed the look and feel of his new long nails so much that he'd been unable to clip them. He felt his eyes become moist and wiped them with a tissue. Two months later... Patrick was sitting on the edge of his bed in his white cotton panties looking down at his breasts. "I can't believe this," he softly said. For he had woken up this morning with breasts. Not large ones. They were perhaps an A-cup at best but they were breasts nonetheless. He didn't have them last night when he'd gone to bed but he surely had them dangling from his chest this morning. "I can't believe this," he repeated. Over the last month his nipples had slowly grown to the size of pencil erasers and his areoles to the size of half dollars but there had been no breast growth. "Not until now that is," he thought. He stood up and felt his breasts softly jiggle. He raised his hands and cupped them from underneath and he felt their weight. He softly caressed them and noticed how good that felt. He made himself stop. "I've got breasts," he advised himself and immediately felt silly for stating the obvious. He walked to the dresser and opened a few drawers and he viewed the vast selection of brassieres. He selected a white cotton bra with small cups and gazed at it. "No question about it. I need this now. If I don't wear a bra my breasts will certainly show under the dress," he said aloud and he blushed as soon as the words were out. He struggled to get the bra on and finally secured the clasp in the back. It seemed to be a perfect fit. Patrick walked to the full-length mirror and looked at his reflection. He considered that he looked more like a female now than at any time since he'd arrived here seven months ago. And it wasn't only the new breasts. His hair now fell to the top of his shoulders where it curled slightly upwards. And his facial features had continued to change and soften. To feminize. He looked at his soft and smooth complexion and his high cheekbones. He gazed at his puffy lips and perky nose. He saw his thinly arched eyebrows and long eyelashes. And he observed the oval contour of his face's shape as it ended in the rounded point at his chin. Patrick had to look hard to see the semblance of his former appearance of seven months ago. "I can't believe this," he noted yet again. "It's really happening. What they did to me is working. I'm slowly changing into a woman." He felt as if he were about to cry so he walked over to the bed and sat on its edge and tried to compose himself. As he sat on the bed he looked at his hands and noticed how soft and feminine they now appeared. He gazed at the long shaped nails that capped his fingertips. No matter how hard he'd tried he could just not bring himself to cut them off. It was as if he were under some sort of spell or something. He stood up and pulled down his panties. He looked down and saw that his penis and testicles were still present and accounted for in all their glory. Although he could still not get an erection his genitals appeared otherwise unimpaired to his eye. He wondered how long that would last and he felt a chill run down his spine. "I've got to get my mind off all of this. I need to occupy myself with something," he thought. He pulled his panties back up and walked to the dresser. Opening a drawer he pulled out and opened a new package of flesh tone pantyhose. He rolled the nylons up his legs and around his waist as he covered his panties. Gazing at his legs he immediately noticed their changed appearance. They'd taken on a shapely look. They no longer looked like his legs. They looked like a girl's legs. He walked to the closet and selected the lavender cotton dress. He slipped it on over his head and he hiked up the zipper in the back and secured the thin belt around his waist. He slipped into a pair of maroon pumps and walked to the wall mirror. He looked at the girl staring back at him. The girl who was him. He could not pull his eyes away. His new small breasts pushed out the front of the dress into two small points. It really made a difference from the way he'd previously looked in a dress. It lent a legitimate shape to his body. One that justified the clothes he now wore. Gazing below his breasts he noted the tapered appearance of his waist. He walked into the bathroom and stepped on the scale which revealed that he weighed 125 pounds. And that was clothed. Patrick tried to keep himself busy throughout the day to get his mind off his troubles. He did some housecleaning and he did a few loads of laundry. He took a mid-afternoon break and enjoyed a cup of coffee and a piece of pound cake as he watched the vid in the living room. He then turned his attention to preparing lasagna for dinner. For the next two hours he toiled over dinner preparations and when he finally got the lasagna into the oven he tossed a nice salad. Looking at the wall clock Patrick noticed it was 5:00. Jeffrey would be home from work soon. "I've got time for a shower," Patrick thought and he headed upstairs. While Patrick was upstairs drying himself off after stepping out of the shower Jeffrey returned home with flowers in his hand. For the first time he was going to compliment Pat on her looks and give her flowers. More than seven months had passed since she arrived here and she certainly was taking on the appearance of a woman more and more with each passing day. Jeffrey surely knew that there were still a number of biological changes that Pat had not yet gone through. Changes that would occur over the next four or five months. But from all outward appearances Pat certainly looked like a woman. And most significantly it now appeared that she was no longer ashamed of her changed appearance. To the contrary Pat seemed to be enjoying the experience now. Jeffrey drew this conclusion not long ago when he noticed her nails. He saw that Pat had let them grow long and had shaped them in a feminine style. As much as she'd comically tried to hide her new long nails from Jeffrey he'd easily observed them. And Jeffrey believed that this was not something that had happened to Pat which she could not control. No, this was a conscious decision which she'd made to grow and shape her nails which signified her willingness to accept and embrace her transition. Or to at least not fight it. He believed she was now ready to be noticed and complimented. Patrick had heard Jeffrey arrive home from his upstairs bedroom. He felt happy that Jeffrey was home. He enjoyed Jeffrey's company and felt lonely when Jeffrey was at work. Patrick slightly blushed at this thought but rationalized that like anyone, he required human contact and there was no one except for Jeffrey with whom he'd had the opportunity to relate over the last seven months. But more than that, Jeffrey was a nice guy. Patrick was beginning to trust him. He liked talking to him and enjoyed his company. He found that he was even starting to think of Jeffrey as a friend. Patrick remembered the lasagna baking in the oven and turned his attention to dressing. He put on a fresh pair of white cotton panties and slipped into a matching bra. He rolled a new pair of nude pantyhose up his smooth legs and secured them around his thinning waist. He decided he would stick with the lavender cotton dress and maroon pumps and he slipped them back on. He then sat at the vanity and brushed out his long black hair. As he performed this task and gazed at his reflection in the mirror he thought, "My God. I actually look pretty." Patrick considered how pleased he would have been to have received a conscriptee who turned out to be as attractive as he'd now become. "Jeffrey's a lucky man," he thought and he felt the blood rush into his face. He jettisoned the thought from his mind and placed the brush back on the vanity when he noticed the small chip in his left thumbnail. "Shit," he thought and grabbed the emory board. He filed the nail until the flaw was repaired. Patrick walked to the wall mirror for a last minute check. "Unreal," he thought as he gazed at the reflection of an attractive-looking woman. An attractive-looking woman who somehow was him. He pulled himself away from the mirror and began the trip downstairs. Jeffrey was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper as he heard the sounds of the high-heels approaching. He looked up as Pat walked into the kitchen. "Hi Pat." "Hello Jeffrey." Looking at Pat Jeffrey immediately noticed the new change. She was wearing a bra which, Jeffrey thought, clearly moved her one step closer to looking like and becoming a real woman. Not that she already hadn't looked female but the brassiere certainly was akin to a little icing on the cake. And it leant a nice curvaceous shape to her body. "Her breasts must have started growing," Jeffrey thought and he smiled in his mind. "I hope you're hungry. I made lasagna," Patrick said as his voice slightly cracked. "Great. I'm famished." Patrick walked to the refrigerator and removed the salad bowl. When he returned to the table he saw Jeffrey holding the flowers. They looked like roses. "I got these for you Pat. You know, for all the things you do around here. I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate it. Thanks for everything Pat." Patrick looked at the flowers. He was speechless. He did not know what to make of it. Finally he said, "Flowers?" "That's right and they're for you Pat. Why don't you put them in some water? I believe you'll find a vase in the cupboard over the dishwasher." Patrick took the flowers and walked to the dishwasher. He found the vase in the overhead cupboard and he filled it with water and inserted the flowers. He took a whiff and noticed the delightful scent. Patrick placed the vase on the kitchen table and turned his attention to the salad as he doled out portions on two plates. He handed a plate to Jeffrey. "Do you like the flowers Pat?" Patrick was not sure what to say. Ultimately he offered, "Yeah. They're nice. Thanks." "You're welcome. And I might add that you look nice in that outfit." Again Patrick was taken by surprise. This was all new to him. Jeffrey had never acted like this before. "I look nice?" "Yeah Pat. You know, nice. Like pretty." Patrick blushed at the compliment. He could not believe his ears. He looked nice? Pretty? And flowers? Jeffrey had never shown his appreciation like this before and had never complimented him like this. In fact Patrick was not even sure Jeffrey had noticed any of the changes he'd been going through. After all he'd never even acknowledged the changes before now. Never. Not even once. And now this? Patrick was just not sure what to make of it all. He silently pondered: "Well, I guess that he has noticed after all." And oddly, what Jeffrey had done and said had pleased Patrick. Although he was not sure why. Patrick thought about it some more as he and Jeffrey silently ate their salads. He considered, "He gave me flowers in appreciation of my efforts here. Well, after all I do a lot of things for him and I suppose it's nice to be noticed and appreciated. And he said I looked nice. That was a pleasant thing for him to say I suppose. And he did seem sincere." Patrick walked to the oven and he removed the lasagna and served it. As he handed the plate to Jeffrey he said, "Thanks for the flowers Jeffrey. And the compliment." "You're welcome Pat. Wow! This lasagna is delicious!" "Yeah?" "Absolutely Pat. The best I ever had," he answered and noticed the smile on Pat's face. "Thanks Jeffrey." They finished their meals and Patrick brewed a pot of coffee and began to clear the table to wash the dishes. He preferred doing them by hand because he didn't care for the job the dishwasher did. As if out of nowhere Jeffrey was standing beside him at the sink. "Why don't you let me help Pat? You wash and I'll dry." Standing so close to Jeffrey Patrick noticed how tall he was. Even though Patrick was wearing four-inch heels Jeffrey seemed four or five inches taller than Patrick. "He must be 6'2", maybe even 6'3"," Patrick thought. He then felt Jeffrey's hand brush his own hand as he took a plate from him. Patrick was starting to feel a little nervous although he didn't really know why. "Now Jeffrey, I'll take care of the dishes. You've worked hard all day and it's the least I can do. Go into the den and watch some vid. I'll bring the coffee in there." "But I want to ..." "I insist Jeffrey. Now scat!" Jeffrey smiled at the way Pat had scolded him. "Okay boss. I'm off to the den." And with that he left. Patrick could not help but smile as he stood there alone and finished the dishes. Another two months elapsed and Patrick had really not noticed any significant new changes in his body. His voice pitch seemed to have risen a bit but that was it. He continued to get on well with Jeffrey. They were becoming good friends. It seemed to Patrick that they were having more and longer conversations. And Jeffrey continued to compliment Patrick on his cooking. And occasionally on his appearance and dress too. What's more he was bringing him gifts, usually flowers or chocolates, once or twice a week now. Patrick had mixed feelings about the way Jeffrey had been treating him. On the one hand it was nice that Jeffrey expressed his appreciation of Patrick's homemaking efforts by complimenting him and bringing him flowers and candy. After all Patrick did work hard as he took care of all the domestic matters while Jeffrey worked. But on the other hand Patrick also felt awkward about it too. And he knew the reason why. In essence Jeffrey had begun to treat him as if he were a woman. And that made Patrick uncomfortable because he still considered himself a man. "I don't care what I may look like on the outside. I'm not a girl. All you have to do is to look between my legs to see that," he proudly thought as he sat at the vanity filing his nails with the emory board. As uncomfortable as he may have felt by the gifts and compliments, though, Patrick made no effort to tell Jeffrey. For he also secretly liked the way he felt when Jeffrey brought him a gift or complimented him. It was sort of a guilty pleasure. It only seemed that he felt uncomfortable when he thought about it a lot. "Maybe I just shouldn't think about it too much. Just take it at face value," he rationalized. And then he woke up the next morning and received a shock when he ambled into the bathroom to do his business. As he stood in front of the toilet to urinate he had difficulty finding his penis. He