Zodiac Coin: Aries free porn video

ZODIAC COIN: ARIES 2235 YEARS AGO... He was a thief, and not a very good one. He would travel through the country from village to village, stealing trinkets from one, then selling those same trinkets in the next. He never made much; the villagers never had much to either steal or to buy with. But the town he had come to was different. On the edge of town was the house of a man who seemed to be fairly well off. It wasn't anything that you couldn't find in the moderate areas of cities, but for being in a village, it was pretty impressive. The first night he was in town, the thief snuck into the house, going in right through the front door (an advantage to villages was the lack of locks). After quietly closing the door. He turned and took a step, expecting to start casing the joint, only to trip and fall flat on his face. He looked towards his feet and saw that he'd tripped over a small stool, although how, he had no idea. His night vision was excellent, and he hadn't even seen the stool. He heard someone from the inside of the house wake up and call out. The thief tried to get up and get out of the house, either through a window or through the door, but he suddenly found himself being as clumsy as an ox. He tripped over his own feet, and fell into some kind of blanket or shawl that was draped over a sofa. He found himself getting entangled in it, almost as though the thing were alive and wanted to grab him. He was totally helpless when a man carrying a lamp and a sword stepped into the room. The thief feared for his life, and at first, it seemed that the man was going to use that sword on him, but the man thought about something, stepped over to the fireplace, got a gold circle of some kind off the wall, and returned to standing over the thief. The man then told the thief some kind of story about having created the thing from a piece of metal that had come from the stars, and ever since having been blessed with nothing but luck in his endeavors. He then explained how his luck had ended in that his children had fallen to squabbling amongst themselves in an effort to decide who would inherit the circle. The man then cut the thief free, handed him the circle, and told the thief to take the circle someplace far away. The thief thought the man was crazy, but that didn't stop him from taking the circle and running off into the night. A STRETCH OF ROAD THROUGH THE INNER CITY... Abraham Hollis wiped his forehead. It was a hot day, and working to clean graffiti off of walls could get to be taxing. Oh, the city always gave plenty of water to drink. It was community service and not a chain gang, after all. That didn't make working in the sweltering heat a pleasant experience. Abraham heard a whistle blow and the man in charge of the group yell, "Okay, people, that's it for the day." as the group began to break up, the man yelled, "Hey, Hollis." Abraham walked over and asked, "What d'ya want?" The man handed him a piece of paper with his times on it. "You fulfilled the time on your community service." "So I'm finished?" "As soon as you get that signed by the judge who sentenced you, and get it filed with the county clerk." "What time is it?" "4:00. The same time we get off everyday." "Great. Judge Simmons has already gone home then. That means I'm going to have to wait till Monday to finally get this all done and over with." "First off, your filing that is more formality than anything else. Monday morning, my copy gets filed no matter what you do. Second, if you're really interested in wrapping this up as fast as possible, then if you rush, then you should be able to catch Judge Simmons before he leaves. In his entire time on the bench, Judge Simmons has never left before 5:00, and often stays later than that." "Really? I thought all judges left at three. Thanks!" Abraham ran off to his car. He drove as fast as he could without speeding to the court house. He ran to Judge Simmons' office, and after a quick interlude with the Judge's court clerk, was shown into the inner office. The judge took Abraham's form, picked up a pen and twirled it a bit, and asked, "So tell me, Mr. Hollis, what has your community service taught you?" Abraham fought not to roll his eyes. "Great," he thought, "a judge who takes his 'civic mindedness' seriously." Abraham tried to think of something to say, and eventually said, "That, uh, community service is, uh-" The judge interrupted him, saying, "You sound like you're trying to remember a memorized speech. Just tell me, honestly, what did you learn from your community service?" Maybe it was because he was so tired, but Abraham found himself saying, "Honestly? I learned that taggers don't use water soluble paint, the city can't shell out five extra dollars for decent cleaning supplies, and that the city is really anal about paperwork." "Nothing about helping out or giving back to the community?" "What's the point of what I did? By Monday morning, everything I scrubbed off will be replaced by new graffiti. It was nothing more than an exercise in futility in order to punish me for a minor mistake." "Maybe there will be new graffiti on the wall before the weekend ends, but for a brief time, even if it is only a few hours, you might have given the people in that neighborhood hope that maybe the gangs and criminals can be defied." "Unlikely." "Perhaps. As for your little mistake, you were the one who got caught driving drunk. No one made you go to that bar, drink too much, and then get behind the wheel of your car. You could've hurt somebody. Don't you have any sense of obligation to the community?" "I didn't hurt anybody, I was only 1/100 of a percentage point over the limit, and it was 2 fucking a.m. in the morning. There was nobody around." "You were around. The officer who caught you was around. There were other people like you who just left the bars who were around. The community is ever-present, Mr. Hollis." Abraham snorted. "What did the community ever do for me?" "The community gives back what you put into it. Ask rather what did you ever do for the community." "Hey, I work. I help my friends and neighbors wherever I can. What do I get for that?" "A home, clothes, food on your plate. Sounds like a fair trade." "My home is a dump of an apartment, my clothes are all old and ratty, and my food is enough to get by. If I really scrimp, I might be able to save enough to buy a name-brand box of cereal. I do more than that. I deserve more than that." "Do you, Mr. Hollis? Do you really? Care to put that to the test?" "How exactly do I do that?" The judge opened up the center drawer of his desk, reached in, and pulled out a small circle of gold. He held it up between the tips of his thumb and index finger and said, "This is called the Aries coin. It grants wishes." "Uh-huh, and did you get it from a man in a little green suit?" The judge smiled. "Believe me, I had much the same reaction when the coin came to me, but it definitely works." "Right." "Tell me, Mr. Hollis, what is your most embarrassing moment?" Abraham's first thought was to tell the judge that it was none of his business, but before he knew what was happening, he was telling the judge all about a time when he was in high school and the head cheerleader tricked him into wearing girls' underwear, took pictures, and plastered them all over every bulletin board in the school. When he was finished, he was too stunned to speak. The judge asked, "Are you wondering why you just told me all that?" Abraham nodded. "I used one of my wishes to be able to get anyone in my presence to answer any question put to them truthfully and as completely as possible. I figured it would be a useful ability for a judge to have." "So why use it on me? You get your jollies off on embarrassing unsuspecting people?" "Mr. Hollis, I couldn't care less about some little incident that happened when you were a teenager. I did it in order to demonstrate that the coin was real." "Why?" "Because, if you want it, the coin is yours. Anything your heart desires can be yours." Abraham just stared at the judge for a while. Finally, he said, "So what is it you want me to do for it?" "I don't want anything in particular. Well, I want you to be a good, upstanding citizen, but that's just in general, not a requirement for getting the coin. No, Mr. Hollis, if you want this coin," the judge put the coin on his desk top and pushed it towards Abraham, "all you have to do is pick it up." Abraham stared at the coin for a while before saying, "I don't believe in things coming without strings attached. What's the catch?" "Beware of Greeks bearing gifts? Sorry, I see from your confusion that you don't understand the reference. No matter. You understand the idea. You're quite right, Mr. Hollis; there is indeed a catch. But the catch is from the coin, not from me. Do you know what Aries is?" "One of those astronomy things?" "Close. It's an astrological sign, one of the signs of the Zodiac. It's the sign of the ram." "So what's that got to do with anything?" "It's got everything to do with the coin. If you wish on the coin, then you become like the ram." "What? I grow horns and a furry, wool coat?" "It's a little more symbolic than that. You become the head of a flock of sheep." "Judge, I'm a night time janitor at the school district administration building. I barely got through high school. Would you please just knock off all this highbrow blather and just come right out and say what you mean?" "Mr. Hollis, do you understand what it means when you call person a sheep?" "That someone who doesn't stand up for themselves, someone who just goes along." "A good enough definition for our purposes. If you wish on the coin, then the sheep start flocking to you. People who never seem to make any decisions for themselves will come to you and follow your lead." "So I get a wish and a bunch of slaves? How is that a catch?" "Oh, no, Mr. Hollis, they don't become your slaves, if anything, you become theirs. You become the head of the flock, dedicated to their well being, to doing what is best for them." "Well, how many sheep could be out there? This is America, after all." "America is a great system, but that doesn't mean that most Americans take advantage of it. Think about voting. The whole thing consists of getting registered, and then a couple of times a year, go into a voting booth and punch some holes in a big piece of paper. Yet, depending upon district, city, or state, only about 60 to 80 percent of the people who could be registered are registered, and of those, fewer than half vote with any regularity. "Then, of the people who do vote, I'd say about half are party-line voters, voting Democrat or Republican without any consideration of who they are actually voting for. I'd say another 30 percent on top of that are single issue voters. Slap a label on a candidate, pro-life, pro-choice, pro-whatever, and a segment of the populace says, 'I'm going to vote for/against him,' again, without any consideration of their vote. "Ultimately, that means that in some places in this country, fewer than one in 15 people are making any kind of active effort in determining the fate of their city, state, or country. "No, Mr. Hollis, there is no shortage of sheep in this country." "Seems like a small cost to get whatever you want." "Almost. You can't wish for anything malicious or vindictive, and you only get three wishes maximum, but other than that, the sky's the limit." "So if I'm willing to become some kind of leader or something, then I get a bunch of wishes?" "Well, I wouldn't call three a bunch, but that's about the size of it." "So what happened to you? I don't see you leading a bunch of people." "You'd be surprised. As a judge, I hold a lot of sway over civic leaders, policy makers, and business leaders. I also do volunteer teaching at the Community College three nights a week." "I don't think I could do that. I'm no teacher." "You don't have to be. Every person finds their own way to be a leader. I got the coin from the mayor 10 years ago. He told me that he got it from a priest. You'll wind up finding some way to lead." "I don't know..." "So don't pick up the coin." Judge Simmons signed Abraham's worksheet and handed it to him. "Take this to the clerks on the first floor. They know what to do with it." Abraham stood up and took the paper. Then he stared at the coin, deciding on whether or not to pick it up. Finally, he made a decision, snatched the coin, and ran out of the room. He ran so quickly, that he almost forgot to file his paper. On the way home, he fiddled with the coin, thinking of the things he could wish for. Once home, he hid the coin in the back of his T-shirt drawer and started getting ready for work. Since he worked nights, there had been no loss of work hours in order for him to do his community service, although doing both had been physically taxing. After a quick shower, he decided to treat himself as a way of celebrating the completion of his community service. Fact was, he made a pretty decent wage as a city employee. It wasn't spectacular, most of what he got coming in the form of various benefits that the city gave to its employees, but it was more than he implied to the judge. The problem was, he had a hidden cost in his budget. He fully admitted that it was something he could get by without, but it made him feel so good. He remembered the incident back in high school that he had described to the judge, and thought that he was glad that the judge hadn't asked him about what had happened as a result of that incident. His parents had always taught him that if you were doing something pleasurable that wasn't harmful to yourself or others, you shouldn't let others tease you out of it. The panties and the bra that that cheerleader had tricked him into had felt incredibly good, and if he'd just been left alone after that, it might have become nothing more than a passing fancy of his. But when those pictures had shown up all over school and he'd been teased mercilessly because of it, he decided then and there that he wasn't going to let the other kids tease him out of the pleasure of wearing women's undergarments. Ever since then, after food and bills, what he had left over from any job's paycheck went towards a growing wardrobe of women's clothes. And since, as a kid living with his parents and two siblings in a small apartment, he had never had much space, he had picked up the habit of buying quality and not quantity. When he had moved into his own little box of an apartment, he had tried buying cheap, cotton undies, but after all that time of wearing nothing but the best, he just couldn't deprive himself. So now, to treat himself, he went into the bottom drawer of his dresser, got out a pair of silk panties and a pair of silk stockings with a garter, and put them on to wear under his work clothes. He decided to skip the bra. A couple of the workers on his shift were currently out on leave (one on maternity leave, one on workmen's compensation), so the extra work made a bra chafe after about half shift. After the girlie stuff, a jumpsuit, socks, and shoes completed his work outfit. As he drove to work, the panties, et al., helped to relax him. When he first started wearing girls' underwear, there was a definite erotic thrill, mostly the thrill of the forbidden, but at some point something had changed and wearing the girls' clothes had become something that was comfortable rather than exciting. He would have liked to have been wearing them on his community service, but there was too much risk of discovery. After all, there was a difference between ignoring teasing and inviting a beating. Work went pretty much as it usually did, and during the mid-shift break, he got to chatting with Charlie McMahon, one of his workmates. A little way into the conversation, Charlie asked, "So you going to the rally?" "Rally? What rally?" "Oh, that's right. You weren't at the staff meeting when they made the announcement. The union has decided on what candidate they would like us to support, and he's got a rally tomorrow, and they want anybody who can to show up. It's Morrison, by the way." "So I'm supposed to waste my Saturday afternoon on some political meeting, so I can hear some politician bray like a jackass? I'll pass, thank you very much." "No kidding. I wasn't planning on going myself. At least we better vote for him. He's got to be better than the other guy." With the judge's conversation still fresh in his mind, Abraham asked, "Why?" "Because... I think he's against unions." "Really? I haven't heard anything about that, in political ads or the news." "Then why wouldn't the union support him?" "Because maybe the guy they're supporting is the better choice, not necessarily that the other guy is a bad choice. Or maybe the other guy is just the wrong party. We both know that the union occasionally supports or opposes people just because of political affiliations, the theory being that the right party will always support the union." "Yeah, well, I know what side of the bread my butter is on. I'm a union man, so I'm gonna vote for the union candidate." "Okay, but aren't you also Catholic?" "Yeah, so? What's that got to do with anything?" "You Catholic enough to be pro-life?" "Hey, I ain't in favor of killing no babies in no wombs." "Well, let's face facts. Most of the people the union supports are pro-choice. Me? I'm both pro-choice and pro-union, so I don't have a conflict there, but you may have to make a choice between the person who is best for your religious beliefs and the person who is best for your job." "So who do you think I should vote for?" "If it were me, I'd probably vote for the pro-union guy. But that's the point, it's not me. It's you. What I think you really ought to do is get informed about the candidates and the issues and make the best choice for you." After the break, Abraham wondered to himself, "Where the hell did that come from?" He began to wonder if the coin was already beginning to affect him, if he was already beginning to think like some kind of leader. If the coin was already affecting him, there was certainly no reason not to use a wish. But if he was already affected this much just by holding the coin, what was actually making a wish going to do to him? The rest of his day was pretty uneventful and passed without incident. After his shift, he went home, got undressed, took a quick, second shower, got into a nightgown, and climbed into bed. Usually, after both community service and work, he was asleep within minutes, but this time, he couldn't get to sleep for thinking of the coin. Had he already been affected by the coin? His mind kept coming back to the discussion he had with Charlie. Normally, he wouldn't have given a rat's ass about who Charlie was going to vote for or why. Hell, he had done the same thing, voting without thinking about who he was voting for, but this time, when Charlie mentioned that he'd be voting for this particular candidate just because the union told him to, the judge's words to him earlier flashed through his head, and Abraham felt that he had to get Charlie to think about what he was going to do. And he thought he was successful. He was pretty sure that Charlie would take the time to get at least a little bit of information on the candidates before he went off to vote. The question was, how did this affect him? Was he prepared to take a leading role in getting those around him to do what was right? Finally, he made a decision. The answer to his question was yes. Thinking of the effect he had had on Charlie, he realized that not only was he prepared to lead others, he liked the idea. He began to fantasize about standing in front of a large group of people making a political speech with huge posters of himself hanging behind him. He wanted that. He got up out of bed and went and got the coin. Once it was in his hand, he realized he hadn't decided what he was going to wish for yet. He wondered if he could wish to be something like president. As he thought about it, he got some mental impressions from the coin. Yes, he could indeed wish to be president, but when he thought about all the duties that the job entailed, he got the impression that the ability to handle those duties would only be his if he specifically asked for them in his wish. Then a whole series of questions started entering his mind. If he wished to be president, would the people remember electing him? (Only if he specifically wished for it.) If he wished to be president without people remembering an election, what would happen? (On all official documentation anywhere, he would be recognized as president.) Would that prevent him from being thrown out on his ear? (Not unless his wish included protections to the contrary.) As he thought about his wish, all its possible complications, and everything he'd have to include in his wish to protect against those complications, he remembered an episode of the X-files where the Fox Mulder character got a genie and tried to wish for a solution to all the world's problems. He eventually realized that such a thing was so complicated, that it would take pages and pages of words in a single wish in order to accomplish it. Abraham could sympathize. Just becoming president could take a page long wish in order to do a good job of it. He decided that it would be better to wish for something simple that would allow him to do the work of covering all the little details on his own. But that still left the question of what to wish for. Money? Money alone wouldn't get him anywhere. Both Forbes and Perot had proven that. Knowledge of all the facts and issues wouldn't do it either. Knowledgeable candidates often were beaten by the more charismatic. Of course, charisma alone wouldn't do it either. Everyone always said that it took a lot money to start a campaign. Thinking about it, he decided that there were three things that he would need to become a really effective candidate: money, brains with some education (okay, a lot of education), and charisma. He could try to wish for all three with a single wish, but that came back to the complicated wish issue. He would need to pick only one to wish for. Looking at the three choices, it quickly became obvious which one he needed most. He had plenty of charisma (or at least more than an average amount). He might need more to become a major player on the political scene, but he could cross that bridge when he came to it. He didn't have any money, but money could be gotten along the way. Besides, this was a plan that would take years, possibly even decades. If he had all that money to begin with, he'd probably just wind up spending it on a lot of stuff he didn't need. No, the obvious choice wasn't money or charisma. He needed brains. Oh sure, with enough money he could buy a ton of classes at almost any college, even if he had to make an extra large donation to buy a building or two, but he had never been good at classes. Going to school didn't matter if he wasn't smart enough to learn anything. So he held the coin up and said, "I wish I was a super genius, capable of doing all those little mental tricks that I see infomercials advertising that they can teach me." And just like that, his entire life snapped into place. He had gained a crystal clear recollection of every moment of his life. He clearly remembered being a baby suckling at his mother's teat. He could instantly recall any conversation that he had had with anybody. He could remember everything taught to him by any teacher. What's more, he had the intelligence to understand it all. He was amazed at how much he had learned in his lifetime. In his mind, he had facts from TV shows, comic books, and even from a few fiction books that he had read. A fact here, a fact there, taken individually, none of them seemed like much, but now that he could look at them in their entirety, he realized how much he actually knew. When he crawled back into bed, his mind was already starting to formulate a plan towards an eventual goal of breaking into politics. He might never go as far as president, but he definitely planned on making a name for himself. SUNDAY AFTERNOON... Abraham walked down the hall of the campus building, his heels clacking on the floor. It was a weird feeling, being outside of his apartment fully en femme, but it was definitely a pleasurable feeling. When he woke up on Saturday, he figured that he would have to put his cross dressing to a halt, or at least go into deep stealth mode, in order to get anywhere in politics, but from the first, he found his male clothes intensely uncomfortable. It was so bad, in fact, that he couldn't even get through a single hour without needing to change into female clothes. He also couldn't get away with just lounging around in a bra and panties. He found that he needed the full outfit, including garter belt, stockings, slip, and dress. Since he had never expected nor desired to go out dressed as a woman, he didn't have any dresses to choose from, but now he felt totally incomplete without one. He had gotten dressed in what he had, then covered it all by getting into his work jumpsuit. Since it was a unisex outfit worn by both men and women, it seemed the least repellent of all his outdoor clothes. Once he got to the women's clothing store, he noticed he had another problem. Since he hadn't expected to be expanding his wardrobe any time soon and it was close to the end of the pay period, he didn't have the money to buy a dress, at least not one of a quality comparable to the rest of his wardrobe. He found himself in a quandary. For whatever reason, he no longer found his male clothes appropriate for going out, so he had a choice of buying some off the rack scrap of cloth, or waiting until he got enough money to buy something better. Leaving the clothing store, he decided he might as well go to the rally of candidate Morrison. At the very least, he'd be able to get the measure of the man. There was no way Abraham was ever going to let someone else tell him who or what to vote for any more, so that would mean taking the time to get educated on who and what he was voting for. After just one hour, he realized what a waste of time being there was. The only thing that the candidate was saying was a bunch of useless platitudes and sound bites. Abraham supposed that he might get more useful data from one-on-one interviews and the upcoming political debates, but with his now perfect recall, he couldn't actually recall one bit of data about Kevin Morrison's position on any of the issues. Just outside the rally, he caught a break. A bunch of the workers from the various news crews that had shown up to cover the rally were just as interested as Abraham was in it, so they had gotten together and started a crap game. Abraham found the game early on, and, with what limited cash he had, got involved. At the end of the game, he was far ahead. With his new genius, he found that he could figure out the odds on almost any roll, and then make a series of successful wagers. He wasn't the big winner, since he never made any really risky wagers, but he was the most consistent winner, which got him an invite to a higher stakes poker game at the home of one of the cameramen later that evening. He got into one of his old male outfits, telling himself that the discomfort would be an incentive to win big so that he could have the money to buy a really nice dress. He found at the game that he could track cards through the deck, no matter how many times the deck was shuffled. It wasn't long into the game until he found that he knew exactly what every person was holding, almost as though the cards had been marked just for him. He kept his winnings just ahead of everyone else, and at the end of the game, he walked out about a grand and half ahead. Saturday morning, he got up early (at least for him), got into his best clothes (telling himself that it wouldn't be much longer before he wouldn't have to wear male clothes again), and took all his winnings to a high class boutique to purchase a few very nice dresses. He figured that he would be giving some kind of story as to why he was buying dresses, but when the store's sales attendant (somehow sales lady didn't seem appropriate) asked him who he was buying them for, he found himself telling her the truth. Shortly thereafter, the manager was rushing him out of the store, telling him that they didn't serve "his kind". Before he got too far away from the store, he was approached by what appeared to be two women. One of them complimented him on his ballsy attitude, but then suggested that he take a less confrontational approach if he wanted to really get into the transgender lifestyle. It was only then that Abraham identified that "woman" as a man in drag. He had to look real close to see the clues, but this she was definitely a he. The man then handed a card to Abraham, saying that it was a store that could help him with not only clothes, but with anything else dealing with passing as a woman, including makeup, jewelry, deportment, and anything else Abraham might want or need. After the pair had left, Abraham thought about it. He had pretty much determined that his new-found, intensified interest in cross-dressing had come about as a result of his wish (although why was still a mystery), but how far was he willing to go without fighting? He had proven the day before that he could go out in male clothes; it just wasn't comfortable to do so. Did he really want to go all out? Did he want to not only dress as, but also be seen as a woman? Thinking about it, the answer was yes. Perhaps it was the coin, but he found a real strength of purpose in public expression of his inner femininity. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but that didn't seem to matter very much. Without any further thought, he went to the address on the card. Considering who had given him the card and the name of the business on the card, "Transformations", he guessed that he knew what kind of business he was headed to. When he got there, he found his guess was right. "Transformations" was a store that specialized in helping men look like women. After going inside, he did have one preconception dashed. He had assumed that the store just sold female clothes and accouterments that were specially tailored to help men pass as women. They had all of that and more. They also had lessons in female deportment, makeup application, proper skin care, and a few others. They also had a service where a man could come in, get a full transformation (clothes, makeup, et al.), and walk out looking like a woman (or as close as was humanly possible). They also had a list of all the businesses in town that were deemed transgender friendly (TG friendly within the lingo). Abraham got to talking with one of the sales clerks about what happened at that boutique he had just left. That was when he found out that that particular store was one of the most TG unfriendly in the city. After that, he decided to invest in the full change service. The salesclerk chatted while she worked, and stated that she was impressed when Abraham chose one of the most expensive dresses in the store. She was even more impressed when she discovered how little real experience he had in the TG world. Most of the guys that came into the store that had that little experience either weren't sure how far they were planning to go in TG or were sure they just wanted to dabble. In either case, neither were looking to invest a lot of money in their female clothes, at least not just yet. After the transformation was completed, Abraham got into his heels and, after a few almost falls, managed to get the hang of walking in them. The sales clerk recommended that he find himself a good teacher in the arts of passing as a woman, maybe even taking one or more of the classes the store offered. When Abraham mentioned that he really couldn't afford those classes, much as he really wanted all of them, she told him about a TG support group that met at the college every Sunday night. Which brought him back to the present, walking down the hall in the college building, headed towards the room where the support group was meeting. He walked up to the door, took a deep breath, knocked, and stuck his head in and asked, "Is this where the Transgender Support Group is meeting?" Inside the room, a bunch of people were seated in a circle, most, though not all, in dresses. One of those in a dress waved him in, saying, "Yes, it is. Please come in." After Abraham had found a seat in the circle, the lady took the time to go around the circle and make introductions, starting with herself. Her name was Melissa, and she led the group, although she admitted that the group's protocols were very informal, so she didn't have to do much leading. She explained that she was a transsexual, with full intentions of going all the way and getting the surgery that would give her a vagina. Other than Abraham and Melissa, there were eight other people in the group, ranging from a couple of people who just wanted to present as the opposite sex, through a couple people who felt that they were the opposite sex, but felt no obligation to change their body to show that fact, through a couple of non-op transsexuals, and ending with a couple of pre-op transsexuals. After everyone else had introduced themselves, Melissa asked, "So may we ask what's your name is and what brings you to our group?" Abraham strangely felt no fear as he said, "My name is Abraham. I've been wearing lingerie and feminine sleepwear for almost a decade now, but recently felt the need to take it to a higher level, to express myself as as full a woman as possible." One of the pre-op transsexuals, who identified himself as "Jack", a female to male transsexual, gave a very masculine snort and said, "Well, the first thing you better do is choose a less manly name." Melissa sighed. "Ignore Jack's attitude. Sometimes he is determined to make a stereotype of himself. However, he does have a point. As a first step, most transgended persons do choose a name from the opposite sex, either to represent their inner self, or as a label to identify the alter ego that they plan to spend part of their life as. There are, of course, no hard and fast rules to living a transgender lifestyle, but it is something to think about." Abraham said, "No, I think Jack is right. I do need to choose a new name for my new lifestyle." "Any idea what it's going to be, yet?" "Not yet. I need to think on it for a while. I also need to ask if any of the girls here can help me to be the best girl I can be. I'm afraid I used up all my money on clothes, makeup, and the little bit of jewelry that I have on right now. I have more clothes at home, and I've got plenty more makeup, all bought today, but I really need someone to show me how to put it on from scratch." Stephanie, one of the male to female, non-op transsexuals, asked, "Let me guess, you made a trip to Transformations?" "Right. How'd you guess?" "That's where I started my journey to becoming what I am today. I got very familiar with the work of all of the stylists who work there. Let me take a guess, was it Dawn who worked on you?" "Yeah, that was her name." "I thought so. The girls over there are real artisans. Give me a little time with anyone who's gone to Transformations, and I can usually tell you who worked on them. Even though I've gotten really good at applying my own makeup, I like to go back there as often as I can." "I feel the same. They were all wonderful when I was there, but I already spend way too much of my paycheck on my female clothes. I wouldn't have even been able to afford the trip I made if it hadn't been for big winnings at a poker game the night before. There is no way I can afford to take all the classes, or for that matter any of the classes that I want to take." "That's okay. If you're willing to learn from an amateur, I can take the time to teach you. I get off work tomorrow at 6:00 p.m. What time do you get off?" "1:00 a.m. I'm on the janitorial staff at the school district building, and I work the night shift. I work from 6:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m." "Then you might want to choose someone else. I work from 9:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., and then I'm usually not home for about 15 to 20 minutes after that, unless you want to wait until next Saturday, that is." Melissa said, "Unless you have some real drastic need to get the lessons in soon, I'd suggest you wait. Stephanie really down plays herself with that amateur crack. I think she could make a living at it." "I don't have any problem with waiting. I was kind of hoping that I could go in to work tomorrow with at least some makeup on, but, y'know, ya gotta deal with the hand life deals ya." Some of the people in the group giggled. Somewhat confused, Abraham asked, "Did I say something funny?" "Yeah, but it's an in joke, so I don't blame you for not understanding. A few weeks ago, we had a discussion about that phrase, "The hand life deals you". We determined that being transgendered is about taking the cards out of your hand that you don't like, rifling through the deck, and replacing them with the ones you do. Basically, we're living proof that you don't have to deal with the hand you're dealt. It's not a great metaphor, but it works for us. "However, your bringing up the subject of work does bring up some old business. Libby, last week you told us that you were going to go into your workplace as Libby, rather than as your old, male self. How did that work out?" Libby, one of the cross-livers, said, "It didn't. I chickened out. Every day, I got up determined to get dressed up in something feminine, but somehow I managed to talk myself out of it. I guess I was just too scared." "Most of us have been where you're going. There's a lot of fear in coming out. How are your work mates, some of whom might be close friends, going to react? That's never a predictable thing. People are just too individualistic. Then there's always the threat of getting fired. If your bosses decide that there's something wrong with you and you need to be gotten rid of, then you're really screwed. Even if they can't get rid of you legally they might make your workspace so untenable that you feel you have no choice but to quit." "Gee, you make it sound so great," Libby said sarcastically. "No bullshit in this room, Libby. It's not going to be easy." "How do you deal with all that shit? With all of that, how does anyone ever manage to come out in public?" "You've got to make a decision. You say that Libby is your real self, the real you. How important is it for you to proclaim that to the world around you? Maybe you can get away with being a male in the workplace, but Libby everywhere else. If there's one thing that our little group here demonstrates, it's that being transgendered doesn't necessarily have to be an all or nothing thing. If you go that route, however, keep in mind that certain elements of our own community will turn on you." Carol, a pretty, Asian woman, the other non-op, also a male to female transsexual, said, "That's putting it mildly. Some out there in the TG community will come down on you like a load of bricks if you're not bound and determined to get that final surgery. When I mention that I'm a non-op, some transsexuals get really nasty towards me, saying that if I were a "real transsexual", I wouldn't let anything stop me from that final surgery." Libby asked, "How do you deal with people like that?" "In most cases, explaining that I was raised Buddhist, raised to believe that cutting into my body for any reason was wrong, gets them to back off. But every once in awhile, I'll get one of those rabid pro-SRS types who will tell me," Carol put a real snotty tone into her voice in order to emulate who she was talking about, "'If you were a real transsexual, you wouldn't even let that stop you.'" "Great. Damned if I do. Damned if I don't." Melissa said, "Libby, honey, being transgendered means... Well, it can mean a lot of things, but to me, it means letting the inner you out, the you that is in defiance of the biological gender that you were born into. Each person has to find their own level within the broad spectrum that is Transgender." Larry, a man in a dress who had identified himself as a cross-dresser, said, "Take me for instance. Most of the time, I'm perfectly content to wear suits and ties and uncomfortable shoes, but every once in awhile," he twirled the edge of his dress, "I like to let the little girl that's inside me out to play." Larry turned to Abraham. "And about the makeup, don't worry about it if it takes you a while to get the hang of it. I've been at this for almost six months now, and I still need help making up my face." Jack said, "Speaking of the new guy, what are his thoughts on the workplace? Y'know, I get the feeling that you think you can just put on a dress and some makeup and then waltz into your job and be able to act as though nothing happened." Melissa asked, "Jack, were you late taking your testosterone again? You always get a little nasty when you're late." "Hey! I'm serious! Most of us had to deal with coming out in the workplace. What makes him think he's just gonna walk into work all dolled up and be able to get away with it?" Abraham said, "Let me answer. I'm not going to 'get away' with anything. I do, however, have a few advantages that most don't. One, I'm a janitor. There's a glorified term for it, but that's what I am, a janitor. All of us have to wear the same work jumpsuit, male or female, and we usually just show up for work in that jumpsuit, so no dresses for me." In an exaggeratedly dramatic and very bad French accent, Carol said, "Oh, how horrible. No dresses at all?" to which everyone shared a brief chuckle. Abraham smiled. "No, no dresses at all. The changing rooms at work are really cramped, so I usually come to work in my jumpsuit. The fullest extent of my at work, transgendered experience would be lingerie, light makeup, small earrings (nothing hanging below the lobe), and my hair. No one is going to see my underwear, and I'm not about to show it to them just to prove something. Until I get some fancier stuff, these studs are the only earrings I've got, and I know plenty of guys who have got more holes in their ears and bigger, more feminine stuff in those holes. Seeing ME in makeup might be a bit of a shock, but other guys before me have come in with a lot heavier stuff on. There was one guy who was, well, swishy is the only way to describe it. He was a gay guy going for all the stereotypes in an exaggerated way just so that he could get a reaction. Once we got over the initial shock, it wasn't really that big a deal to anybody. Which just leaves my hair. I'm not sure how people will react to it. In fact, I'm sure there are a couple who will definitely give me problems, but I've decided that this is me, and I'm not going to hide myself anymore." Melissa asked, "The people who will give you problems, are any of them your boss?" "No, that's actually the second thing that will make my cross dressing at work easier. My interaction with my boss basically amounts to his handing out the work assignment at the beginning of shift. For the rest of the night, he sits in his office while I work on the floor with the rest of the team. I'm not even sure he notices what anybody is wearing." "That might mean that you know nothing about him. For all you know, he might very well be rabidly anti-TG. Aren't you afraid he might try to harass or even fire you?" "Not really. It's another thing working for me. If he tries, I can file a grievance with the union. When it comes to protecting their members, my union is really pretty good about that." Libby said, "Lucky you. I work as a shipping clerk at a local department store. I don't have any union protection." "What is it that you have to do as a shipping clerk?" "My job is to take orders from the catalog salesmen and then check inventory. If it's an item we have in stock, then I fill out all the proper forms, slap a mailing label on it, and put it on the rollers that will take it down to the shipping dock. If it's an item we don't have in stock but are supposed to, then I fill out the forms to order more. That's usually followed by me finding out who didn't order enough and then bitching at them. If it's some rare item that we don't normally keep in stock, then I make a special order." "That doesn't sound too bad. If you went in in a dress, is there anybody you work with who you think will give you hell?" "I don't think so, but I hear everybody else's story and I just wonder." Melissa said, "People can be really unpredictable. Most people who transition in the workplace have stories about how there was one person who they were sure was going to give them a big hassle but really have no problem with it, or one person who they were sure was going to have no problem who actually gave them the most hell. You can never tell." Abraham asked, "Do you want a little moral support? Since I work at night, I could come over before work, before both our works, and help you by giving you an incentive not to chicken out." "What about it, Libby? His extra support may just give you the help you need. Of course, don't feel like you have to. The only person whose approval you need is you." Libby said, "That's okay. I think I could use his help." "Okay, then. You and Abraham can get together after the meeting and exchange phone numbers, addresses, and whatever else you think you need to." Abraham said, "Please, call me Brianna." "Welcome to our little club, Brianna, and let me be the first to congratulate you on picking a fine name." THE NEXT DAY... Brianna and Libby sat in Libby's car outside Libby's work. Brianna asked, "You ready to go in?" Gripping the wheel tightly, Libby responded, "Nope." Brianna chuckled and put his hand on Libby's. "It'll be okay. Worst-case scenario: at least you'll know how bad things can get, and you can plan your next step accordingly." "You know, it's not too late to call in sick." "I suppose you could do that, but then what? How many times after that are you going to call in sick? How long are you going to deny yourself?" Brianna took Libby's hand and clenched it supportively. "You can do this, Libby." Libby sighed, mostly in an attempt to release the tension in her body. "I wish I had as much confidence in me as you do." "I have confidence in you because I believe in you." The two of them sat there for a little while, Libby staring at the entrance that she would have to walk through to get to her job. Finally, Libby took a deep breath and said, "Let's go, before I'm late for work." They both got out of the car, and Brianna walked Libby to the door. When they got close, Brianna said, "The sign says, 'Employees Only'. Want me to wait out here?" "For a little while at least. If things go really bad, I'd rather not be alone." "I understand." Brianna leaned over and gave Libby a quick, friendly kiss. "Just believe in yourself, girlfriend, and you can make this work." Brianna waited by the door. After about twenty minutes, he decided that Libby probably hadn't been fired immediately, so he went back and waited by the car. After another forty minutes, Libby came running out of the building and ran up to him. She quickly said, "I can't stay long. I just came out to tell you that it was okay for you to leave." "So everything is okay?" "Well, I'm getting a lot of strange looks, but I guess that's to be expected. The boss asked me what was going on, and after explaining, he told me that as long as I kept getting my work done, he didn't have any problems with my coming to work dressed as I currently am." "Okay, then I guess I'll head to the bus stop. Now if you have any problems what your coworkers harassing you, you head to your boss immediately. If he doesn't handle it, you call me or someone else from the support group as soon as possible." "Thanks. You sure you want to take the bus? If you promise to get it back to me before the end of my shift, I can loan you my car." "No thanks. I'll leave your car here just in case you need to leave suddenly." "Well, um, okay. You just be careful. Okay?" "What's wrong? Don't I look okay? Didn't I shave close enough this morning?" "No, you LOOK fine, particularly after I did your makeup. It's just... Well, you don't quite have the walk or the talk down yet." "What's wrong with my walk and talk? Please, be honest. I can't learn if I don't know what mistakes and making." "Okay, I've got to make this fast. I've got to get back to work. Now when you walk, you need to take shorter steps and squish your legs together." "But that could mean that I could wind up squishing-" "Exactly. Remember, a woman doesn't have what you have to squish, so if you want to walk like a woman, you got to walk as though what's there to be squished isn't actually there. As to your voice, well, I don't have time to really get into it; I've got to get back to work. Just try not to talk to anybody." Libby ran back to the building, saying, "Okay, love you, and thanks." Brianna briefly wondered what his problems were, but decided not to let it bother him too much. If no other opportunity presented itself, he could work things out with Stephanie next weekend. He did decide to take Libby's advice and not try to talk too much. He headed to the nearest bus stop and, after brief wait, got on the bus that would take him back to Libby's where his car was parked. As Brianna headed to the back of the bus, he saw Carol sitting just behind the rear exit to the bus, casually reading a small paperback. He stepped up to her, and said, "Hey, Carol. How are you? Funny meeting you here." She replied, "Not really so funny. This is the bus that I take from home to work and back to home. Right now, I'm on half days at the restaurant, so I don't have to go in until later, but I'm afraid I'm so much of a creature of habit that if I don't ride the same bus everyday, I tend to forget when exactly I need to leave, and I wind up being late as often as not. So instead, I just go in early and either window shop or just hang out at a local park." "Well, it's a little funny because normally, I wouldn't be anywhere near this bus. I just needed it to get back to my car." "Oh, yeah, that's right. You were going to help Libby go into work en femme. How did that work out?" "Pretty well, I think. She came out and told me that she'd been transferred to a better area of work due to the fact that her female voice was so much more phone friendly. I got the impression that she felt it at least a minor promotion, but I'll let her give you all the details at the next meeting." "Oh, good. I like Libby. I hope it all works out for her." "I hope so, too." Brianna pointed to the seat next to Carol where Carol was currently storing her purse and asked, "May I sit down?" Carol picked up her purse and put it in her lap. "My apologies. Please, have a seat." Brianna sat next Carol and asked, "So you don't have to be in to work for a while?" "Not for a few hours. Why?" "Well, I wanna ask a favor of you. Libby mentioned that there was something wrong with my voice in terms of my female presentation, and I was wondering if you knew what it was, and if you could help me correct whatever problems there are with it." "Well, truthfully, I have noticed something, but I think we should wait until we get some place a little more private to talk about it." Brianna noticed that there were a few more people on the bus, but he didn't notice anyone else taking any particular notice of them, seeming to have granted them the anonymity that bus riders gave each other, but he also knew that that anonymity could very well be just an illusion, so he just nodded and waited. When they got to Carol's stop, that both got up and got off the bus. As soon as the bus pulled away, Brianna asked, "So what's my problem?" Carol smiled and said, "Well, that's part of it." "What?" "We're barely off the bus and already you want to dive right in. Learn to be a little more relaxed. Don't be in such a rush. Take your time in going from one thing to another. Instead of just rushing into it, ask me first if I want to go somewhere and have a seat where we can talk comfortably." "Well, what if I really am in a rush?" "Well, then it's fine for you to be in a rush, but are you in a rush? Is there some place you have to be in the immediate future?" "Well, no." "Then take it easy. That's one of those cultural things. Mind you, this is only a general thing, and you can easily find exceptions all over the place, but for the most part, for men, it's been about conquering the world, about diving in and taking command as fast as possible." "Well, it served us pretty well so far." "I could find more than a few people who might argue that point, but really it's beside the point. What I'm talking about here is the attitude of women as opposed to men. For the most part, and, mind you, this is changing pretty much day by day, but women have been pushed into a secondary position, and it shows in the speech patterns we use. The words we use tend to be more placatory and also, in my opinion, a little more polite." "How do you mean?" "Like earlier. Where you said you NEED to know what was wrong with your speech, a woman might have said that she'd like to know. More than a few would even start with a polite question, asking if I could tell them what was wrong rather than just saying that they needed to know." "And I didn't do that. I'm sorry; that was rather rude of me." "Well, not too rude, after all, that is what the group is there for, at least in part, to help refine the presentation of our inner femininity. Just keep in mind that you need to modify what you're saying when you're en femme. Presenting as a woman isn't just about walking the walk." "It's also about talking the talk. Would you give me a hand working on it?" "Of course I will. That's why we're here." They went together and got something to eat, and for about an hour, they just talked with Carol brought in here and there to help Brianna with her speech. After that hour, she said, "Y'know, you're an incredibly fast study. In just one hour, you've managed to change as much as it took me a couple of weeks worth of hard work to get to." "Thank-you." "You're welcome. So have you always been this quick on the uptake?" "Oh, hardly. If I were this quick at everything, I definitely wouldn't be working as a janitor." "Let me guess, this sudden increase the ability came at about the same time as when you started dressing full time?" Brianna experienced a brief moment of worry as he asked, "How'd you know?" "It happens to a lot of us. On some level, our inner femininity is collecting all this data, even if we're not using it consciously. Finally, we stop denying that part of our self and we just naturally start putting all these little bits of data together. Don't be surprised if this natural ability to act en femme doesn't expand into other areas of your life." "Does it ever work out that a person experiences an increase in the ability in every area of their life when they start cross dressing, or in the case of someone like you, taking the steps to go even further than that?" "It happens, but it's much rarer. Basically, what happens is that you've used up so much energy denying your true self, that when you stop, you can be the best you that you can be. At least, that's my theory. I don't think any studies about it ever been done." "It sounds like a plausible theory to me." "So, if you don't mind me asking, how long have you been cross dressing?" "I don't mind. I've only been going full time since the beginning of this last weekend, but I've been dressing in lingerie in private since I was in high school." "Only in lingerie in private? Not fully dressed?" "Yeah, that's right." "Wow, I'm impressed." "Why?" "It's just that it's not that quick for most people to go from dressing up a little in private to go out in public in full female garb." "Well, after the decision had been made, I just really wasn't comfortable doing anything else." "And you say you're just a cross dresser, that you have no intent of doing anything to change your sex? Usually, you only see that kind of resolve in a full transsexual, someone who is female in everything but their genetic code." "Well, I don't see myself taking it that far, but who knows what the future might bring? What about you? How did you come to the conclusion that you needed to become a woman?" "I think it was almost a textbook example of a transsexual. I knew from the very early age that I was different from all the other kids, from all the other boys in particular. I grew up trying to deny it. I spent my teen years and early 20's being super macho guy, trying to make more of a man out of myself. Even served a couple of years in the Army, hoping they could get rid of the feelings that I had inside." "I thought that Buddhists believe in eliminating suffering and pain in everyone they met. Doesn't being in the military fly right in the face of that?" "Well, I have to say that I was never as devout in my beliefs as my parents wanted me to be. They definitely weren't happy with my choice, and quite frankly, neither was I. Being in the military was just a final ditch effort to deny myself." "So what happened?" "Perhaps a bit ironically, it was my dad who helped me find myself. Shortly after I mustered out, I was sitting at home in the kitchen with a bottle of tequila in one hand and a bottle of sleeping pills in the other when my father came for a visit." "You were going to..." "End it all. I was really that close. Well, my father caught me and stopped me. He then sat me down and we really talked. You see, according to my father's beliefs, the main cause of suffering is ignorance, so if we just got to the root of my problem, we could resolve my suffering." "Seems a little easy." "Believe me. Easy is not the word for our discussion. I spent the entire conversation trying to dodge the real problem, but my father kept bringing me back. Finally, I realized that most of my suffering came the more macho I was trying to be, and not just because my parents disapproved, but because, down deep, I disapproved of myself. I finally stopped denying myself and realized that I had to become a woman to have any chance of being happy." "How did your father take it?" "Surprisingly well. I thought that he'd be disappointed in me when I couldn't be his son anymore, but he told me that if he had to have either a dead son or a live daughter, then he'd choose having a daughter every time." "Then what happened?" "Then we found a doctor, I went through my real life transition, started my hormones, and now we're here." "You say you're not getting that final operation because of your religious training? Do you really believe that, or are you just using it as an excuse?" Carol tilted her head back and give a short laugh. "Oh, you don't know how many times I've asked myself that very question. I've come close a lot of times, more times than I care to count, calling up my doctor and telling him to set up the operation. Then there are other times when I tell myself that it really isn't necessary. Although my genetics disagree, I'm a woman, and I don't need to get rid of my penis to prove that to anybody." "So which do you think is going to win out, get rid of it, or ignore it?" "For the time being, ignore it is in the lead. I suppose that things might change somewhere down the line, but for now, this is me, and this is who I'm content to be." "Well, whatever you decide to do with your body, as long as you stay as kind and helpful to others as you've been to me, then what ever you do is obviously working." "I'll take that as a compliment." Carol looked at her slim line watch and said, "It's almost time for me to head back to work. Is there anything else that you'd like to talk about?" "Not off the top of my head, but do you mind me calling you if I think of anything else?" "Not at all. Have you got my number?" "Yeah, I got most of the group's phone numbers yesterday." Carol stood up and said, "Then I guess I'll head out." She then leaned over and gave Brianna a quick kiss on the cheek. "If I don't see you before next Sunday, then have a good week." "Thanks. See you then." "See you later, and you be careful walking home." "I will. Thanks." After Carol left, Brianna hung around for only a little while more before heading to the bus stop. He was careful as he headed home, and as far as he could tell, no one spotted him as anything other than what he appeared to be. This afternoon passed pretty much without incident, and he just spent the day watching TV and sitting around practicing some of the things that he had been taught. Then it came time for him to head out for work. He probably could've gotten away with changing into his orange jumpsuit at home and wearing only lingerie underneath, and no one else would've been wiser, but for some reason, he was no longer comfortable in not presenting as a woman. He decided instead to go in a simple blouse and skirt (wearing breast forms and lingerie, of course) and change into his uniform once he arrived at work. That way, he could get all the shock, nasty comments, and jokes out of the way it all at once, and work could settle down faster. Brianna took the time to get extra nice and pretty for a first day on the job as Brianna, then grabbed her uniform, and headed out to the bus stop. The bus ride was uneventful, and when he walked in to work, the first thing that happened was the night security guard stopping him and saying that only employees were allowed in the building this late. Brianna got a kick out of explaining to him who he really was. The security guard took a few extra seconds looking him up and down, scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and let Brianna into the building. There were more than a few stares as he walked to the employees' locker room so that he could change into his work clothes. The locker room was almost empty, with one exception, his friend Charlie. When Brianna walked in, Charlie stood up real tall (always trying to be a gentleman) and said, "Hello, are you a new employee? I wasn't aware of any openings on the crew." Brianna smiled and replied, "I'll take that as a compliment. Charlie, it's me, Abe." Charlie just stared at Brianna's face for a few seconds before saying, "Oh, okay," and turning back to his locker. Brianna started to remove her street clothes and asked, "Want to talk about it?" Without looking back at him, Charlie replied, "Talk about what?" "About me being in girl clothes. It's clearly making you uncomfortable." "Why do you say that?" "Because once you realized who I was, you haven't said word one or even looked at me. Usually, before work, we'll exchange more than a few words about what ever comes up." Charlie shuffled around a bit before saying, "I guess I'm just not real com