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As usual, don't read this if you shouldn't, or if you fear it compromises your virtue, or if you don't find it fun. Comments to [email protected] are always welcome. Any kind at all. Cruise by Vickie Tern 1/3 i. "Honey, what's this?" I was fresh home from the bank, looking forward to putting my feet up and stretching out, checking the day's mail. As an Ivy MBA on the executive fast track they expected great things of me, and they worked me hard. But I'd begun at the bottom, as everyone does at Vanderbilt Trust. I was half way along in my first three month assignment, a lowly teller in the branch bank near where I live, though due to take over a desk in New Accounts there in another six weeks, when I'd learned where the ends of the ropes were, and I was slated for a vice presidency in six years. And I was newly married, living in a new house in a new suburb with my lovely wife Maddie, also an MBA. We'd met in graduate school and studied together, but Maddie'd put her career on hold for a year or two until she could rediscover and enjoy for the last time, as she put it, what it's like to be just a girl and just have fun. Which, as far as I could tell, she was doing with her friends, a few other high-achieving women who also lived in this same subdivision and for the time being shared the same intentions. One was a doctor named Fay, and two others were lawyers, Brett and Ashley. Brett was the only other one of the four who was married, though she always seemed somehow dissatisfied with the fact. Like Maddie they all had fine minds and promising careers, but for the present, like Maddie they were recovering from the rigors of getting to where they were despite being women. They'd all learned how to deal with assertive males and yet come out ahead, and they knew they could. But it was wearisome, so they were all taking a break. Maddie would meet with them a few times a week. What they did with their time wasn't clear, but they seemed to love acting out with others, trying new roles to play. Pretending to be different people. They all once applied for jobs as clerks in Walmart's, for example, even Maddie, and they held those jobs for weeks, long enough to get to know well the other clerks' lives and quirks, who slept with which floor supervisors, who did power trips, and whose cunt or cock was always available in the stock room. Just to see if she could, Fay once got herself a job as a car repair mechanic by pretending to be a guy, and she actually held it for a week before another guy slapped her rear in fellowship and then figured it out. She talked cars knowledgeably with the other mechanics and earned their respect. But also about girls. And the things they didn't know about girls? And the things they knew that no one knew guys knew? When I asked Maddie what sorts of things, she smiled and told me she wouldn't say, she wanted me to preserve my innocence for as long as possible. Though soon afterward she began to suggest we do things in bed together I'd never dreamed of myself, and her bedside drawer began to fill with cute sex toys I'd use on her or once in a while she'd use on me. If you'd told me a year ago that I'd sometimes go to bed knowing my gorgeous wife wanted to push a thick vibrating jelly dildo up my ... well I'd never have believed you. Maddie wouldn't have believed you either, a year ago. But we were both young and experimental, and we loved each other. Maddie was far more venturesome than me, and she proposed all sorts of kinky sex with me. I got so I not only didn't mind, but ... well, later. Ashley, the other lawyer, was an adventurous spirit. She registered with a "Personal Escort" service I took to be a call girl operation. Maddie told me that I was wrong, that there were plenty of call boys on their list, and gays and lezzes and bisexuals, and even a few men and women of mixed or indeterminate sex and gender. Ashley could persuade clients to do all sorts of things by employing legal language, ratiocination, and an absolutely gorgeous body. She won every case. Ashley told her friends about her escapades, and Maddie, Fay, and Brett gradually lost their faith in the world's proprieties. Maybe that was why the eternal malcontent Brett decided to humiliate her husband Evan for fun, to punish him for some injury real or imagined. She arranged a date for him with one of the indeterminate Escort Service girls, one with a dom/sub specialty, and she instructed him to do whatever he was asked to do while she watched. Evan was a nice guy, and the "girl" knew how to push his buttons, so he was soon under her thumb. Unknown to him, Brett recorded the proceedings, which included him dressing up as a whore and sucking the call girl's cock, then getting fucked by it. All this and more was videotaped for Brett's later possible uses against him, she said, should their marriage not work out. Meanwhile she used the tape to intimidate him into more humiliating situations and even more videotaping. There was a lot of giggling, Maddie told me, when the girls met for lunch and Brett played some of the tapes, and then for comparison's sake Ashley told them what different clients sometimes wanted her to do, and what she did with them instead. Maddie's bed-time expectations got even kinkier. But I loved it all. Life as a bank teller was boring, but with Maddie, never! Now, today's mail had brought us an envelope of expensive imitation parchment from some place called "Vacations Afloat," addressed to me as "Ms. Leslie Crimmins." "What's this?" I asked Maddie. "O yes, that. Les, I need to talk to you before you open that envelope." "But why, Maddie? I see you've already opened it." "I couldn't wait to see what was in it. It's wonderful news!" "Can I see?" "In a minute. But first, listen. Les, I have a confession to make. A month ago I entered both of us in a drawing for a prize. Something only girls can enter. I thought I could double my chances of winning if I entered your name too. 'Leslie' is a sort of a girl's name, after all, so no one would know, and if you won I figured you could give the prize to me. That you'd want to give it to me." I heard her. "And I won," I said. "In a word, yes." Maddie said. Amazing! I never win prizes! But now finally? "I'd better sit down," I said. "So what did I win?" "A Caribbean cruise for you and any five friends, all free! Six all-expenses-paid tickets." "A cruise? Free?" I could scarcely believe it! "Maddie, that's wonderful!" "Wait, Les, there's more. It's a singles cruise. The drawing was a promotion. There are never enough women on board singles cruises in proportion to men. So they always give away some berths as prizes. That's what you've won." Marvelous! "Well, that's no problem, Maddie," I said. "We're new in town but thanks to you we know four other people well enough to ask them to join us. Your three friends, Fay and Brett and what's her name, the lawyer who earns more money as a call girl than all the rest of us together? Ashley. And Brett's husband makes four. So why are you looking so concerned?" "Honey, you aren't listening. The drawing was for girls. The berths are for girls. The winner and her friends have to be girls." I listened now. What a disappointment! "So I don't qualify to win," I said slowly. "And Brett's husband doesn't qualify to go at all." There was a long pause. "Honey, the cruise company doesn't know that!" There was another long pause. "Maddie, what are you suggesting?" "What do you think I'm suggesting?" She sat there now with a look of expectation, waiting for the light to dawn in my face. But it already had. I decided to get serious. "Maddie, no. If you want I'll transfer my winning ticket to you. Then you can take your friends, and I can buy a berth to accompany you, and if he wants to so can Brett's husband, and there'll still be a berth left over for whoever you want to invite." "Honey, you still aren't listening. It's a singles cruise. You're married. They check up, they don't want philandering husbands going on their singles cruises." "Oh!" "And your winning ticket is non-transferable. If you don't go, the right to choose five friends to accompany the winner reverts to a runner-up, I understand she lives in Kansas somewhere. That means that none of us goes. That would be very disappointing for all of us. Very." "Very? You've already told your friends about this?" "Yes." My heart was beginning to sink. "And they want to go? They see no problem?" "Yes, sweetie, they all want to go. We all do. And no, they see no problem at all. They're always telling me I married the loveliest man they've ever met, the nicest, the most accommodating. Fay's often commented on your delicate features, that you're potentially even more feminine than Evan. And Evan's already been gotten up as a girl, and a good-looking one too to judge by his videotapes. He made a really beautiful whore the night Brett sent him out to learn what it's like on the street." This was troublesome. "I remember you told me about Evan," I said. "There was that time you wanted me to suck on your dildo the way you saw he'd sucked on that ... translady's cock." "And you did, honey, even though you didn't want to, and I loved it. You were very girlish! Even though you were wearing pajamas, not at all dressed like a slut in a bustier and net stockings like Evan. And you did a very fine job on that dildo. Remember? That was your very first, long before I took to wearing it as a strap-on so you had to kneel down before me in order to suck me off." She was reminding me that I'd bent my gender a few times already, pretending to be a lady who gave blow jobs in order to please her. And that for over a month now, whenever she felt like it she'd been fucking me with that thing, making me her "bitch." So how much inviolable masculinity could I insist I still had? Why shouldn't I go on this cruise pretending I was a girl? I tried a last resort. "What about Evan? What if he doesn't want to go on this cruise under these ... circumstances?" "Evan's willing. Brett's been improving him. A week or so after the first videotape, Brett showed it to him and then suggested he should call up that transsexual girl he'd sucked off and ask her advice about getting his beard removed, and hormones to smooth out his skin, things like that. She likes men with smooth skin, she told him. Now he's quite presentable, she says, and the breasts he's grown look real because they are real. Brett says Evan's not the problem. You're probably the problem, she says. Husbands usually are, she says." "Do you think so?" I asked. "No, sweetheart. I told her you never have been a problem for me and you never will be. That we'd do anything for each other." I couldn't respond to that. Then, "What's involved?" I asked. "You'll take a month's leave from work, or better, the full six weeks they promised you when you signed on. It's a twelve day cruise, leaving from Miami in two weeks. Fay says you'll need the full two weeks to get you up to speed and passable physically --she has the connections. And Ashley thinks she can teach you what girls on cruises need to know in that much time, especially because she knows a therapist who can speed your learning curve enormously. I'll give you all the help I can. Brett will have her hands full getting Evan ready, but she's confident she can manage. We all think you'll do fine. Really, honey, don't look so depressed. It'll be fun! We all think so! You'll see!" "This is all reversible? I mean, when the cruise is over, I can get back to being who I am?" "Fay says the implants can be removed. You'll have no beard or body hair and probably by then you'll have swollen nipples from the hormones you'll be force-fed, but you'll probably want to keep them -- you'll love how they feel when I kiss them. No one but me will ever see. And not too much else will change. Ashley's therapist uses hypnotherapy to convince people they are whoever they want to be -- some of her clients from the escort service use her sometimes. You'll visit her right off, to get started with the right beliefs and attitudes. I don't see why whatever you learn that way can't be unlearned. But honey, it doesn't matter! I'll always love you the way I love you now. Maybe even more! In more ways, certainly! Could I say no? "All right," I said. "I'll do it. Now can I look at what's in the envelope?" Maddie leaped up and clapped her hands in sheer delight! She was so happy! "I'll phone the girls right away," she said. "They're all waiting to hear." So I took out the embossed invitation. "Dear Ms. Leslie Crimmins," it said. "I am delighted to inform you that you are a very lucky girl, the winner of our "Cruise for Singles" contest! Romance and excitement await you, and you'll love every moment! We are sure this award will change your life." It went on to describe the cruise, and its ports of call, and the luxurious accommodations, and the many opportunities I'd have to wear my prettiest dresses and dance with the most attractive of men. It then asked me to fill out and mail in the enclosed card certifying that I am indeed unmarried and otherwise eligible, and so on, and it asked me to declare what I prefer of all kinds of things -- food, recreation, dress, partying, and men, so my every desire can be anticipated and gratified. Lots of exciting events are scheduled simultaneously on large ships like this one, it said, something to appeal to every taste. "I don't see the enclosed card anywhere," I said, peering into the empty envelope and at the floor near where I sat. "I filled it out for you and mailed it in already," Maddie said. "I was so excited! And I've already phoned for our cabin reservations. We aren't all on the same deck or close to each other, but we'll all be on the same boat, so we'll all see as much as we want of each other. You'll room with Evan and I'll be with Ashley in a different stateroom. Brett and Fay will be together too. They like that idea, they've seen a lot of each other since Brett first brought Evan to Fay for shots to get him shaped up as more feminine and less aggressive.. "You and I won't share the same cabin?" I asked, a little appalled. "No, sweetie. It'd be too easy for them to trace back our names and addresses and find that we're married. From now until the cruise ends we're not married. We're single girls who happen to know each other." "Girls," I said. It was slowly sinking in, the enormity of what I'd committed to. "Not married." "Single girls," Maddie repeated. "Let's skip dinner and go to bed. I want to begin living in sin with you right now." We did. When I fucked Maddie this time it was a little like when we'd made out with each other the first time -- she gasped as she shifted her positions to accommodate my thrusts, as if she were practicing getting accustomed to a brand new lover. When she then fucked me with her dildo, she was much rougher than usual, really pounding it into me. Afterward, when I asked her why, she shrugged. "Lots of men are like that," she said. "You have to take them as they come." "Maddie honey," I said, a little shocked. "I don't intend to take them at all! I'm not gay!" "Leslie honey," Maddie replied, equally formally. "You agreed to this! I signed the form for you and sent it in! This is a singles cruise, and you're going as a girl. There're dances every night, and all sorts of matching and pairing games, boys' choice, girls' choice, wheel of fortune choices, by zodiac signs or by your time of month, all to make sure that no girl is ever without a fella or vice versa. When I signed you on, you agreed to dance with whoever asks you and to take moonlight strolls with whoever asks you. The rest is up to you, of course, but you never know." "You too, Maddie? Do you know?" I asked, my heart now sunk down between my knees. "Of course, baby! Of course I know. It's you I love, and only you. You're the only man who matters to me or ever will matter. As far as I'm concerned, all the other men in the whole world are walking dildos and no more than that." She cuddled into me. "Now do you feel better about all this?" Somehow, I didn't. But I phoned my head office the next morning, and they put me on leave for six weeks "without prejudice," as they said, and Maddie and I then went to see Dr. Renfrew, the shrink Ashley had recommended. She listened to my story and asked me some questions, especially about gendered attitudes and cross dressing and the like. Reluctantly, I told her that I'd tried on my girlfriend's bra and panties and lipstick when I was sixteen, at her insistence, and that it had made me both tingly and hard, that our sex when I dressed like that was incredible, and she'd wanted more of it. So I had a considerable wardrobe of girls' clothes by the time we broke up. But I hadn't done anything like that since. "Transvestism and sex are a potent combination," she commented. "Once bound together, they never separate altogether. Have you played at being a woman in other ways since then?" Haltingly, I told her about Maddie's jelly dildo, how I like her to fuck me with it because she loves to fuck me with it. "And also because it feels good, I have to assume. You love the way it feels." "Yes," I admitted. I'd thought that wild horses could never draw that confession from me. She asked a few more questions and then sent me out so she could have a private conversation with Maddie. After a long while she called me back in. "I'm putting you in your wife's hands," she told me. "She thinks this will bring you much closer together, and I agree. Will that be all right?" I nodded. "She'll know what to do from now on. I've given her a few cues, trigger words for states of mind I intend to install in you now, to put you at your ease and help you enjoy this interesting situation from now until the cruise ends, to reinforce certain feminine habits and attitudes you'll find handy. Again, do you agree? You'll need to agree to this treatment sincerely and wholeheartedly." "I've committed myself," I said. "I've given my word. And Maddie wants this. So I do agree. I'll really be grateful for all the help you can give me." "Oh, I don't think so," Dr. Renfrew smiled. "Even from the little you've told me, I suspect I could turn you into a ridiculous, flouncing pansy if you wanted all the help I can give you. But then you'd spend this whole cruise as a living scum bag for all the gay men on board, no fit companion for your wife and her friends at all. No, I don't think it'll even be necessary for you to believe you're actually a woman, though that'll be one of the triggers your wife can use to help you through any really difficult situations. Maybe to speed things while you're in training, that's up to her. What I'll do is, I'll help bring out a few latent desires common to most men but rarely acknowledged, already partially developed in you. You'll know you're a man of course, but at certain times when you're enjoying yourself it won't much matter. You'll be what you were with your teenage girlfriend, but much more, a man who's fond of feminine things, who loves to pretend he's a woman, and adores it when others accept him as a woman. That will be quite sufficient. Now, sit back, and make yourself comfortable, and if you'll look at that spiral shaped spot on the ceiling? And listen to my voice?" I did just that. Her voice was reassuring, and it soon became a relaxing drone. The next thing I knew I was in our car. Maddie was driving. I felt wonderfully relaxed and at peace with myself. "Oh, my," I said to her. "When did we leave Dr. Renfrew's office? How long have I been under?" Maddie looked at me with a cheery smile. "A long time, sweetheart. Do you feel all right?" "Wonderful!" I replied. "Thank you. Just lovely! But the last I remember it was mid-morning, and now it's late afternoon! Where did the day go?" Maddie didn't reply. She seemed a bit amused as she pulled into our driveway. "I'd like for you to be seated in our living room before I tell you where the day went," she said. "Preferably with a drink in your hand. You aren't fully awake yet. But I'll bring you out of your trance the rest of the way just as soon as you're in familiar surroundings. Because there have been some changes in things, and some of them might be surprising. Not shocking, because you've appreciated what we've been doing, you've absolutely adored lots of it. We've had such a good time, Les honey! But now it's time for you to remember all of it, so you'll know who you are." That sounded portentous. I glanced at Maddie indulgently. "I know who I am, honey! I'm Leslie Crimmins, your husband." She glanced at me sideways as she undid her seat belt, opened the door, and turned to get out. "No you're not, sweetie. Not exactly. Not any more. You're Leslie Crimmins, my transvestite girlfriend, and I love you as dearly as I ever did my husband. In some ways more. Come into the house and I'll explain everything, and help you remember everything." This was puzzling, but I trusted Maddie and knew she'd soon tell me whatever I needed to know. As I unlatched my own seat belt I noticed that my breasts were no longer sore where the shoulder belt crossed over them -- I vaguely remembered a few difficult days, but apparently they were now done with. Even so, I felt a little confused as I swung my legs out of the car, planted them on the driveway, stood up and smoothed out my dress, and then reflexively checked my hair in the car's side view mirror. Quite presentable. I followed Maddie up the front steps and into the house, then sat down carefully on the sofa, kicked off my heels, tucked my legs comfortably under me, and rearranged my skirt. Maddie handed me a double straight scotch on the rocks. "Take a deep swig first, baby." I did. Finally, I noted in passing, I was wearing a lipstick that didn't smudge, didn't leave a stain on the glass, unlike all the others I'd been using! "Colorstay" actually did what was advertised and stayed where it belonged. It actually was kiss-proof! The shadow of a man's face with a lipstick smear on his cheek entered my mind's eye, then disappeared again. Had I done that? "I do like that skirt, honey," Maddie said. "Wear it well!" My skirt? It's a pretty cotton print, pleated, rather ordinary. What was notable about it? Something was odd, though. Lipstick? Kiss-proof? Again I was confused. I looked up to Maddie for help. She sat down beside me and took my beautifully manicured hands into her own, and just held them gently for a moment. Then looked into my eyes. "Sweetheart, you've had so many things to do, and learn, and have done to you, that Dr. Renfrew and the girls and I all agreed it would be better if you weren't altogether yourself while they were happening. So even though you've been with us from moment to moment and time to time, and you've retained all the memories of it for future use, you haven't been recalling many of them for very long at all. You've been such a darling ditz! I had to put your long-term memory to sleep too, so you'd learn everything as if it were all brand new, as if you were an altogether brand new person uncluttered by the old person's ideas and feelings. A brand new woman. Especially during your breast augmentation surgery, and your liposuction, and while the teeny tucks in your face were healing, the ones the surgeon recommended so you'd have the cute, wide-eyed look you've got now. Men love girls with that vulnerable look, its very attractive. All those things gave you considerable discomfort, and I felt so sorry for you. But you recall none of it now, I'm sure, so it's as if it never happened. Isn't that so?" Of course it was so. I squeezed Maddie's hand encouragingly. "Well, I want to return all of your memories now. Make you whole again. So you'll know where you've been and what you've become, and how. So your happiness when you saw the result of your surgery, how beautiful you now are, that joy can be a permanent part of you. And my happiness when I saw you too! You look so darling, so very precious now that your face is more feminine, sweetheart!" "It is?" I touched it. I wondered where the nearest mirror was. In my purse? I'd left it on the hall table, as always. But Maddie'd begun again. "And you've learned so much in the past two weeks! A lifetime's worth of what a girl needs to know! So I want you to remember everything now, the training sessions and all the shopping we've been doing, the trips to the beauty salon to make yourself as attractive as you can be for the cruise. Even your stay in the hospital. Everything. Do you remember any of those things now?" I struggled to recall something of what she'd said. It all sounded familiar, but .... "You've been under for nearly two weeks, baby. The whole time learning how to be a lady and getting ready for our trip. We fly to Miami to board the cruise ship tomorrow. Do you understand me?" I began to understand that I'd been sort of asleep for two weeks, and that I was not the person I'd been when I walked into Dr. Renfrew's office. Not now. But that had been the intention, hadn't it? I'd wanted to feel that I'm a woman, not a man, even though I'm not, and I needed help learning how to do it, how to fulfill that desire, and that's why I had gone to see Dr. Renfrew to begin with. For the cruise. And for another reason too. As a man, I'd never felt quite right, though I didn't know it until this minute, practically. But now as a woman I felt ... complete. Being a woman completed me. It was deeply satisfying. I'd become myself! "Yes, dear," I said. "I do understand. I appreciate it, that you've been so attentive and considerate, and the other girls too. I love what you've done, but it would be nice to have my memories back. I'm sure I'll enjoy myself even more when I know what's been happening." "I'm sure that's true, baby," Maddie said. "That's how we arranged for you to feel. Now look at me." ii. I looked into her eyes. They were so very tender and loving and clear. That blue eye shadow went marvelously with her blonde hair, and I envied her that slyly knowing look. We'd all decided though that I should remain a brunette, my coloring and my naive expression went better with brunette hair, and it was better for both of us if I didn't resemble Maddie too closely, if I was more obviously a friend than a sister. "I love you Maddie," I said suddenly, out of a deep welling of my heart. "I do so love everything you've done to me." "I'm sure you do, my angel. And that love will never go away. Dr. Renfrew took that harmless transvestism in you and built on it, strengthened your desire to look like a woman into a need to live like one. It's deep, deep down in you now, and we've drawn heavily on it during these past two hectic weeks. Now it's part of you. You know you're not a woman, but it doesn't matter, because you love seeming to be one. You love persuading yourself and everyone else that's what you are. And living with me as my girlfriend is fabulous in itself, isn't it? A dream come true! Isn't that so?" "Yes!" I whispered. "Oh, yes!" "Leslie, remember everything!" Maddie said, almost chanting the words. Then twice more. "Remember everything! Remember everything!" Then she just sat there and watched. It was like waking up from a dream into a different dream. There I was on the couch in my own living room, wearing my lovely silk jersey print blouse with the pleated cotton skirt -- now how did I know that's what it was? -- and my taupe pantyhose, though with a light-days sanitary napkin in front to flatten my bulge. And a dainty silver pendant on a chain around my neck to match the dainty silver earrings swinging from my almost-healed pierced ears. And a curly halo of hair that really only needs combing, though it certainly benefits from a biweekly cut and set -- I'd just come from getting one for the trip. I then remembered the salon where Maureen had done my hair and Sarah my nails, all three of us chatting away, talking about how hard it is to keep your set in damp ocean air but how easily hair curls in that climate, and how far to let a ship-board romance go. Things like that, girl things. I'd been about to tell them about Evan when Maddie came to pick me up. Then while driving me home, Maddie had said words that returned me to an awareness of myself as I had been before visiting Dr. Renfrew. But not since. Now I remembered the rest of it. Visiting Evan at his house, Brett's house since he'd signed it over to her. How Evan and I had made love in his darling little bedroom, down the hall from Brett's large one. Evan now looked as feminine as I did, though Brett had kept him aware of the process the whole time because she enjoyed his humiliation, always telling us that it was he who enjoyed it. He told me what had been done to him, speaking in a low voice about how we both "have to get used to things, or else." We'd undressed each other. Then we'd sucked each other's erections and had taken turns -- Evan first, since he knew how and was teaching me how -- we took turns fucking each other royally. I remember Brett had wanted to videotape all of it so she could gloat afterward, but Maddie forbid it. "My Leslie does things for me because he loves me," she'd told Brett somewhat tartly. "Not because he's afraid I might tell everyone and embarrass him. I always want to know that's why he does anything, and I always want him to know that's why too. So no pictures. If I want him to, he'll tell the world all about how he's now a sissy girl and a cock sucker, and how much he loves it, and if I ever want to tell the world I know he'll give me permission. Videotapes and blackmail would threaten the perfect trust we now have in each other." She made that speech while Evan and I each had the other's elongated cocks in our mouths. I remember I was so grateful for it that I went crazy, sliding my lips up and down Evan's tube so furiously that it spurted its cream long before mine did. Then I remembered how strange it had felt, Evan's prick buried in my bum and sliding in and out of it as if greased -- it probably was. Full, then empty, then full. Different from Maddie's dildo, warmer and somehow more satisfying, and pulsing repeatedly -- I could feel it lurch over and over as he filled my guts with cum. Yet when I did him, he'd enjoyed it a lot more. He'd moaned and writhed and screeched under me until I couldn't wait any longer and came in buckets. His ass was much tighter than Maddie's. And though he'd been on hormones for six months and had small natural breasts, his body was nowhere near as comfortingly soft as Maddie's. I still preferred to embrace Maddie with my penis or her dildo joining us together as one. It almost didn't matter which. I remembered how, a few days later, Evan had came over to show me two dinner dresses he'd just bought, and an evening gown that was perfection! He lacked confidence in his own taste, the poor dear, so he knew nothing of the skill I'd developed putting together different looks and costumes for myself. He needed to see himself reflected in my delight at his appearance, so he came over hoping I'd approve his purchases. Of course I did. When I'd gushed over the last dress and he'd returned it to its hanger and he was wearing only his bra, panties, stockings, and heels, I led him to my bed and Maddie's, and there we sucked and fucked each other for over an hour, while I assured him that he was truly gorgeous, a dish, an absolutely lovely girl. He did so need compliments! Then when he gratefully packed his cock deep into me, I found genuine bliss for the first time. That thing inside me was heaven! Knowing it was Evan, part of a man's live body, apparently made a huge difference. Maddie was everything to me, but her dildo wasn't. I do remember that Maddie came up to see what all the noise was about just as Evan was pumping his sperm into me and I was squealing and screaming. She just stood watching. I remember I mouthed "Thank you" and other loving words at her while she beamed her pleasure back at me. At dinner that night, Maddie explained why she and Brett wanted us to feel truly intimate with each other. She and the other girls thought that since Evan and I would be sharing a cabin, we'd enjoy sharing our bodies too. So they wanted to encourage us to have sex more often. It would help persuade me that I was a woman, and as far as Brett was concerned it would humiliate Evan all the more, further consolidate her control over him. Now that we'd done it, we should feel free to do it again any time again during our two weeks on board ship, when we wouldn't anyhow be sleeping with our wives. That is, if we didn't happen to be sleeping with anyone else. "There's another reason too," Maddie told me, "You're getting to be quite a lovely girl. If some nice young man should get smitten with you, you wouldn't want to be altogether virginal when you show him how you appreciate his attentions, when you want to help him feel glad he's a man. I could if I wanted put passionate longings into your head that you could then direct toward any man or fetish object, even toward a candle or a soda bottle. Dr. Renfrew put a trigger in you for that kind of euphoric transfer of affect. But I'd rather not use it. Sincerity is so much nicer." I remembered spending hours in the salon, and the popping sound when my ears were pierced, and the dull ache in my breasts when I first came home with those balloons bulging from my chest, but then my pride when after three days the surgical bra came off and there they were, my beautiful soft globes, my own melons, lovely, just like any other woman's! And there were my nipples poking out from them, so gloriously erogenous when Maddie or Evan caressed them, or I did it myself! When I first saw them, if I weren't so weak I would have danced around the room, admiring and feeling myself up! Then in between all of these things, I remembered shopping with Maddie and with Ashley. That is, when Ashley wasn't teaching me phrasing and voice modulation and feminine movements and postures, and how to flirt, even how to fake orgasms if I can't manage the real thing but want to send a man home satisfied. Trying on all sorts of lingerie and slips and gowns and frocks and dresses, and pants and slacks. Trying out all sorts of shades of make-up at the make-up bar of our largest department store. Deciding how to apply it to look prim if that's what I wanted, or sultry, depending. A girl is always free to choose her mood. One of my loveliest memories was simply of lunching with my friends, Maddie's friends, all five of us women with Evan alongside unwillingly, though also a woman, during a pause in a shopping trip. Evan participated in the conversation hardly at all, because he didn't really enjoy girl things, but Maddie and Fay and Brett and Ashley and I had wonderful rapport. We complimented each other on the things we'd bought that were just right for us, and we gossiped about some of our neighbors, and we settled on a date to see together a wonderful romantic movie just coming to town. Ashley and Fay told us silly stories about men they'd dated, what fools they were in some ways even though admirable in others. It was a very ordinary luncheon, but I'll never forget it, the feeling of belonging, of being just one more girl among other girls. It was such a privilege! As women will, we took forever dividing up the check and the tip, even though we'd each had only soup and a sandwich. Men mock us for that, but I realized that women don't want to be efficient when they're together. We want to be sociable, and we seek out any excuse at all to interact and respond to each other. Divvying the check is only one more excuse. It isn't silliness. Men are silly for doing that kind of thing abruptly, dividing checks down the middle to be done with it. But women know what life is for, I loved being a woman for that too. That night my special girlfriend Maddie and I made the tenderest, most magical love two women have ever made. We held each others' breasts gently, and stroked and nibbled each other's nipples, forever it seemed, our bodies enraptured by erotic sensations, desire heaped on greater desire, yearning and reaching for satisfaction and then finding it. I sucked lovingly on her pussy and she on my clit, until we both languished beautifully, wrapped around each other, and came and came and were one. That night we needed no dildos. We were women in love. I remembered all those things now. They had all happened during the past two weeks, ever since I had left Dr. Renfrew's office filled with wonderful new convictions but no memories of them. Now I remembered. They were now all a part of my past. I'd been a man. I was now a man seeking fulfillment as a woman. That was what I was. The next morning, Maddie helped me to understand more about this new commitment. "Leslie honey, you do know that while we're on this cruise, I am going to be socializing with other men, and there's a good chance I'll be sleeping with some of them, just as you will be. You do know that, don't you? I just want to make sure." I looked up at her from putting on my make-up for the day, and set down my blusher brush. I suppose I'd considered that this might happen, but not that it was probable. "That's why I've wanted you to become as beautiful and feminine and attractive as you could be, a charmer who'll attract men the way I always did before we were married. So you can sleep with as many men as you like too. Remember, on this cruise we're just good friends. We're not married. We agreed on that some time ago. So we can't either of us be unfaithful to each other. We're on vacation from our fidelity to each other. Isn't that so?" "Yes," I said reluctantly. "Listen to you. As if you and Evan haven't each of you ignored your marriage vows over and over, in the sight of God and of me too. I remember perfectly well the time I walked in on you when you were squealing like a stuck pig, and I saw what Evan had stuck you with. And you know I was pleased when I saw you having a good time with him, that I didn't feel the slightest bit injured or betrayed. Well, I haven't fucked anyone else yet. But I mean to, that's why I'm raising the subject now. So you can feel free to do the same, that's only fair. Then when we get home we can resume the way we were, if that's what we agree to do. Or we'll try new things together, if that's what we want. I do enjoy new things, as you well know." "Yes," I said. "I know." This was something I hadn't anticipated. Even my change of gender didn't seem as severe and wrenching as this upcoming change in the rules of our marriage. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it. I told Maddie this. She seemed concerned. "My poor dear. This isn't about love or togetherness, sweetheart, it's about having fun. You should know that by now. If you can't enjoy this new freedom, or mine, I can help you enjoy it. Just look at me. No, really!" I did. Her eyes were quite serious. She held my head in the palms of both hands and stared into my eyes. "Sweetheart, just listen," she said. "Just listen. Just listen." I felt compelled. She let go of my head, and I waited eagerly, rapt to hear her next words "Honey, whenever you see me with a man, you'll feel so happy for me, and the more intimate we seem to be, the happier you'll feel. And you know I'll feel the same about you, and you want me to be happy about you. You love being with men too, they're a whole world of sex you've barely begun to explore. Because we both love each other, and we want each other to be happy, and right now, being with different men is what will make us happy. Isn't that so?" "Oh yes!" I breathed. "Remember that," she said. "Remember that. Remember that." "I will," I said, delighted with the gift of freedom she was offering me. "You know, Maddie, it does make so much better sense for us to take a vacation from our marriage while we're on this cruise. Who knows what adventures we'll have! And think of the fun we can have telling each other afterward!" "Exactly," Maddie said with a cryptic smile. I knew why she was smiling, and I didn't mind at all. It was sort of fun, feeling what Maddie wanted me to feel and never worrying about it. I trusted her. She was my dearest girlfriend, after all, and I was hers. That night while we were sharing a small salad -- we were still getting our figures in trim, tonight we'd pack and tomorrow we'd be flying to board the boat -- I asked her about those triggers Dr. Renfrew had installed in me. "Don't post-hypnotic suggestions fade over time?" I asked her. "How do you know that mine are still active, if you don't trigger them now and then?" Maddie looked over at me. "I thought you'd get around to asking that sooner or later, honey. You don't remember that I triggered some of them just today, only this afternoon?" "You did?" I was amazed! "Well, I think you can answer your own question. Look at you. You've completely and enthusiastically accepted living as a woman, and you've just agreed that we can both take a vacation from our marriage, because you want to get to know lots of men a lot better, just as I do. This is supposed to be for the next two weeks, and that's how you accept everything. It happens that your post-hypnotic suggestions last about a week and then gradually fade unless reinforced, that's what Dr. Renfrew arranged, because that's all we need for the cruise." "Yes," I know that," I said. "That's what I agreed to." "Yet notice what I'm really doing to you, baby. It's already two weeks, and your desires are as strong as ever. Your closets and bureaus are filled with clothes you'll be wearing long after this two-week cruise ends, and you haven't asked why. You've been on female hormones for two weeks now, changing your body, and you take your pills daily and you have a six month supply. You have lovely tits, and a pretty face, and liposuction has given you hips and a cute ass, and those things don't go away by themselves after two weeks. Yet you don't question any of this, it all seems natural to you. That easy acceptance of everything, that's what fades unless I reinforce it. And these things never occur to you, because I don't want you to bother your pretty head thinking about them. So the answer to your question is, of course I reinforce your conditioning now and then. Whenever you seem troubled by anything." "I guess you do, then," I said grinning, getting up to clear the table and stack the dishes. "But not long ago, when you took me out of that two-week amnesia, didn't you tell me to remember everything?" "I did, honey. And so you do," she said. "With Dr. Renfrew's help, you admitted to yourself that you want to live the rest of your life like a woman, and you love it now that I'm willing to help you. That's what you remember. And you remember to take your pills, and fix your hair to look presentable first thing every day, and choose your outfits to mix and match well. You remember that kind of thing now because I told you to remember them, just as earlier I told you not to remember. You still don't remember everything though, honey, no one does. And there are still lots of things in your life that you simply don't notice these days because I see no reason for you to notice them." I had no idea what she meant. She stood up. "Well, I'm glad we had this talk, but we still need to get ready for our trip tomorrow. Honey, I'll have my coffee black, served this time in the living room. No need to curtsy when you serve it, even though I know you love to show me that mark of respect. It wouldn't look right when we're with others who think we're just friends. And don't pack your maid's uniforms -- the ship's crew will be serving both of us. Awww, don't look so disappointed. Remember, when we're all on that cruise shop you'll be the sprightliest girl among us. The life of the party! The life of the party! The life of the party! That's you. I think you can begin being that now." "I certainly can, honey," I said, looking over my shoulder as I marched into the kitchen with plates in hand. "Coffee in a jiff! Oh, just wait till I tell you the latest thing Evan says Brett makes him do when he's naughty! Eeuww! You may not want to drink coffee or anything else ever afterward!" That night while packing my bags for the voyage I noticed that my chosen style was slightly slutty. My dresses and skirts were way short, and my gowns were decollete way down -- one of them all the way to the waist. And my heels were strappy and very high, and my bras were skimpy lace that barely covered my boobs much less supported them, and my lipsticks and nail lacquers were deep, dark red. Well, I shrugged, if that's what I like, if that's the kind of girl I am, I suppose I should do it up right and enjoy it. And I've got to say, I did. I loved that cruise. From the moment we got on board and were shown to our staterooms! Everything was perfect! Clean decks and corridors, sparkling railings, and the neat, elegant decor of every cabin or stateroom I was in -- and during the next twelve days and nights I was invited into a lot of them -- all these gave me a wonderful feeling of pampered luxury. Evan and I were assigned a huge stateroom on the starboard side of B deck, near the bow and the shuffleboard courts, where all the gay men and lesbian women congregated -- there was a transgendered couple in the area too, they told us, but we never saw them. Maddie and Fay and Brett and Ashley all had cabins together but far from us, on the port side of C deck, way toward the stern. That, I noticed, was where the body builders seemed to be located, near the Nautilus and Weight Rooms and the outdoor swimming pool. That was what Maddie'd arranged when she first filled in my acceptance card and listed our preferences, and then phoned to confirm. That's how we'd respect each other's privacy, she explained to me. She reminded me how we'd agreed to take a vacation from our marriage. I felt a little deprived of her company, but saw how it made sense. Soon enough it didn't matter. Because there was a cute guy named Roy in the stateroom next to ours, with curly hair like mine, only blonde, loads of fun, and as I soon found out, well, you wouldn't believe the dong he had on him! His roommate was a lawyer named Davis, a closeted gay man who only shacked up on cruise ships to protect his reputation as a tough litigator back home. Davis was instantly smitten with Evan. and though Evan wasn't happy about it at first, they disappeared into the stateroom Davis shared with Ron, and Ron moved in with me, and Davis and Evan practically weren't seen again for the entire two weeks. God did Evan get fucked! I saw him a few times, limping, haggard, hardly getting any sleep. It seems Davis hadn't had any sex at all for six months, it was too risky to his reputation, and now he was making up for it. Evan smiled wanly when he told me how he now felt like a life-sized re-usable condom. But, he added, it wasn't too bad. By the end of the cruise I noticed that Evan was much more affectionate with Davis. They held hands and snuggled, and there was this unmistakeable, deeply peaceful expression on Evan's face that told me he'd at last come around. He was in love with a man! He'd actually become what Brett had taunted him he was becoming. I heard all about it the night of the Captain's ball, our final night at sea. Evan looked gorgeous at dinner that evening -- he wore a cerise gown that clung to his every curve and actually allowed his enlarged nipples to peek out at the world. His figure was even more willowy than I'd remembered, and now he was clinging devotedly to his Davis. He told me that Davis and he were both one man men. He added that Davis specialized in divorces and was sure he could handle Brett without even taking off his kid gloves. She'd get no property settlement, Evan said, and she deserved none. "Because I'm not going back to Brett," Evan told me that last night on board, when we were finally in bed together for the last time, hugging each other, feeling serene and relaxed because we'd just sucked each other off for the last time, sadly enough but for old time's sake. "Davis loves me. And I love him too -- he's so nice, and he's so very much in charge! I need that, now that Brett's put me down so thoroughly. He wants me to come live with him, and work for him, and then to marry him just as soon as I can get sex reassignment surgery to make it legal. And that's just what I intend to do." Davis had given him a huge engagement ring he showed me proudly, diamonds and topazes, an incredibly valuable array that had once belonged to Davis's grandmother, certain testimony that Davis was altogether sincere. I cried and hugged Evan for joy. Brett never noticed that Evan's supposed one-night affair had progressed to a romance, to an attachment that blossomed into love. I suppose she assumed I was keeping Evan busy, out of trouble, out of her sight and out of mind. She, Fay, Ashley, and Maddie had set up a round robin of stacked guys who filed in and out of their cabins and staterooms, and it never ended. I saw one or another of the girlfriends in the dining room a few times, each time with a different man, and I felt a little hurt, because I'd originally thought I was one of their gang. I'd often see them dancing intimately, romantically, plastered to someone, in quite a few of the ship's Cabarets and Discos. I heard that Brett took several men back to her cabin with her every evening, sometimes in sequence, sometimes all at once. Obviously she couldn't care less about her husband. I had a wife, of course, and I was pleased that Maddie was well attended in my absence. I was happy to see that she felt close to whoever she was with and didn't miss me at all. She stopped by my table once to compliment me on my singing -- I'd just won a prize in an amateur contest by singing "My Man" in a husky voice while climbing seductively all over the guy I was with. And she told me how delighted she was that I felt as uninhibited as she did. I smiled and told her the same thing. After all, we were on vacation from our marriage. We had no problem. Once, when I was strolling around the deck at midnight with a new beau, and we were stopping often to kiss each other softly, just as his hand finally reached under my blouse and grasped one of my breasts affectionately I saw Maddie in a deck chair in the shadows, under a colossal bruiser. Her long gown was bunched around her waist and her legs were wrapped tight around him while he pumped her repeatedly, and with each thrust her throat issued a primal satisfied grunt. When we returned on our second turn of the deck, me walking much more slowly because I'd just stuffed a tampon into my ass to keep my admirer's semen from staining my dress, they were still at it. By then I wondered whether he'd fucked her brains out altogether, because though her arms and legs were still tight-clenched around him as far as they could go, and her face was still mashed to his, she was uttering not one sound. Was she unconscious? Was she breathing? I watched closely, and finally was reassured to see her body tighten and release in yet one more unmistakeable orgasm, while he kept at it and she began to build toward another. I loved it that she loved getting fucked. I loved my Maddie for what she'd done to me, too. She'd told me to be delighted with everything, to be sprightly, cheery, scintillating, buoyant, to enjoy everything. And that's what I was doing. With wonderful guys, me in and out of their staterooms, them in and out of me! I'd had no idea my tits and my asshole could be such marvelously rich sources of pleasure, and I wondered how I could ever go back to Maddie's jelly dildo now that I'd known the real thing! I'd give blow jobs from sheer gratitude for the way guys fucked me! Whether dancing to different shipboard orchestras or telling lies to each other as we sat over drink after drink, party followed party, one man after another, and it was all perfect! Each time the ship paused at a port -- Antigua or Barbados, who knew? -- the women would pour off the ship to shop, and the men would feel free to see if my mouth or my rear also happened to be free. I loved them all. And I loved both of my body's openings. Life was good. iii. When we got back to Miami and bid each other goodbye with promises to meet often on chatlines and e-mail each other and so on, I didn't want to quit. Still, the cruise had ended. Evan gave me a sisterly kiss good bye and I kissed him back, kissed "her" back I guess it had to be starting now. And Davis shook my hand, thanking me for everything I'd done to bring the two of them together -- I'd always be a welcome guest in their home. Then they left, and for the moment I was alone. I glanced over to the other end of the dock, where I saw Maddie and Brett, presumably the other girls too, still wrapped in one boy after another, kissing them goodbye -- the boys' tongues obviously deep in their mouths and penises rubbing one last time against their groins. Brett still didn't know that she no longer had a husband -- that was a satisfying thought. And now Maddie would return to hers, that was more satisfying. Some of the boys I'd been with then came up to thank me the same affectionate way, and I gave each a grope and squeeze to remember me by. I knew I'd miss them, especially the really fun ones, the ones who were sweet and gentle and romantic and considerate of my feelings and all, and then once they were snug and well-positioned and fitted deep inside me, went absolutely crazy. They told me they'd miss me too, and I knew they would. Michael, a gentle man in his mid-thirties, told me he'd never forget me, and there were tears in his eyes. He'd been my favorite, we'd had something together I couldn't define. I felt so sorry for him that I had to smuggle him into a booth in the Ladies and give him one last blow job. He was such a dear man! He asked for a souvenir to remember me by, anything at all, so I gave him my bra, a lacy thing I'd outgrown anyhow because of the two additional weeks I'd been on hormones. I gave it to him on the condition that he wear it all day at least once a week and think of me. He could barely utter the words vowing to me that yes he would, he certainly would, he wanted to, he'd love to. He has possibilities, I was thinking as we kissed goodbye. 'Do unto others' came to mind. I knew I'd remember his e-mail address. When we emerged from the Ladies' the dock was nearly deserted. Maddie and her crew were nowhere to be seen. Roy came up to me while I was wondering if Maddie expected me to meet her at the airport. "That woman Maddie you know, she lives in the same town you do? Maybe you work for her? She gave me a message." 'Oh?" "She says she's going to Tahoe for a week with a guy who has an estate there. She knows you won't mind, and she'll call when she gets back. She asked me to tell you to make sure the house is in perfect order, and to re-stock the pantry. Then a woman named Brett reminded her to remind you to buy new aprons and uniforms for yourself. A lot of their friends from this cruise have promised to visit, so you can expect to be a really busy girl looking after their needs." This wasn't news I was prepared to hear. It didn't sound right. Something was gnawing at me. My understandings with Maddie were that my pretending I'm a girl, my one-time belief that I actually was one, our vacation from our marriage, my promiscuity and hers, all these were for this cruise only, a two-week interlude so we could both take full advantage of the cruise tickets I'd won. Then we'd resume what we'd had, what we'd been to each other. Now that the two weeks were over, I expected to revert to my former self. I hadn't quite yet -- I still loved the guys who'd loved me, and I still wanted to please them as they'd pleased me, but this was farewell to them. I didn't remember how all those dresses were waiting for me in my closet back home, nor how thoroughly surgeons and hormones had feminized my body. Maddie had really cooked my mind with those triggers Dr. Renfrew had given her. But I sensed uncomfortably that Maddie wasn't keeping her part of the bargain. She wasn't reverting to her former role as a loyal and faithful wife, not at all. She was still being a girl who wants fun, enjoying her freedom, as horny and uninhibited as ever. On her own she was extending our two weeks into yet another week, into many more weeks, into forever? And she was now initiating -- no, she was renewing -- for me a role I wasn't even previously aware of before, that of a servant girl of some sort. "Oh yes," Roy said. "Very important, Maddie said. She told me she'd phone you tonight, and you should be sure to be by the phone. She must speak with you. But if your flight's delayed or anything, you should call her at this number. There's something urgent she needs to say. Something about 'triggers,' There it was. It had been over a week since Maddie had last left off fucking her entourage and briefly visited my stateroom for a chat and the triple repetition of certain commands. Afterward I'd had no recollection of what we'd said, but it didn't seem to matter. Now, suddenly, I understood why. It did matter. She'd renewed my hypnotic conditioning for the second week of the cruise. But it was wearing off again. I was now noticing things I hadn't noticed before. I glanced down at me. I had a woman's body, tits and hips and an ass, though with a penis I'd somehow forgotten to use, not even seen for the past two weeks except as a clit. All Maddie's doing. And all my clothes were women's clothes now, here and also at home. I remembered for the first time the fun we'd had together packing up all of my male clothing, how we'd called the Salvation Army to haul them away, how my boxer shorts and heavy wool suits had looked so silly that day, so inappropriate and unflattering compared with my new-purchased panties and girl-on-the-go dresses and tailored suits, how we'd giggled and made jokes about them. I didn't want them ever again, those man's suits. And I still felt that way. But now it seemed odd that I felt that way. Moreover, though I was supposed to be through being a girl, I'd taken my hormone pills this morning, and I had every intention to keep taking them. Though I'd agreed to be a woman for just these two weeks, I wanted to stay this way a lot longer. Permanently? I didn't know, but I loved who I was. Obviously I was a man with a wife with her own schemes and her own agenda, who'd gotten my cooperation without my full consent and expected to keep it without my quite knowing what she was doing. How much of this was now really me? How much of it was that small innate strain of transvestism Dr., Renfrew had located and strengthened, allowing Maddie to make me over altogether, as she had, into a non-husband, a girlfriend and fellow whore? I still loved what she'd done to me, and I still loved her for doing it! But I would have to wait it out before I could find and make up my own mind. There was nothing for it. I'd not talked to Maddie since that short visit to my stateroom -- we'd both been too busy screwing our guys. My triggers apparently had a half-life of a week, and were again fading. That was why, even though she'd abandoned me to go to Lake Tahoe, she wanted to talk to me. To cinch me down pending her return. That wouldn't happen. I had to dry out and see for myself where I stood. Until we had an understanding I could trust, I couldn't trust myself to listen to Maddie's voice. If I did, I was sure to end up an old maid. Hers. "Roy honey," I asked him. I was recalling that enormous prick of his, but also that he was a decent man. "Where do you live?" "Here, Leslie. In Miami. I'm already home. Strictly speaking, I live in South Beach, in a co-op with other gay guys like me." He paused. "And one or two girls like you. As I see it, same thing." "I've had a wonderful time the last two weeks," I said. It was so easy to be a woman of easy virtue, a vamp, that I almost felt ashamed of myself! "I hate to see it end." Roy heard me. "Then it won't end, doll! Is that your luggage?" Four hours later I was laying out my clothes on a bed in Roy's co-op in South Beach, preparing to hang them up so they wouldn't get wrinkled. We had an understanding. I'd pay him rent for my bed, a fuck a day and all the head he could handle. I'd already given him a three day advance, and I intended to get a week ahead before the current week ran out, because I wasn't sure I'd want to take on any man's cock by next week when I'd become myself again. Yet I needed a full two weeks away from Maddie before I could be sure that her triggers had faded away altogether into mere memory. Roy had wonderful friends who gave great welcome-home parties, and I was still playful and bubbly enough to be invited to all of them. We were honored guests for a few days at an estate in Key West, where I entranced everyone with a talent I'd not known I had, as a stripper. The right music played one night, and before I knew it I was on a small stage peeling off my gloves, and then, provocatively, everything else. This was something Maddie must have instilled in me to entertain her guests with after we arrived home, I realized. I was expected to warm up her lovers for her. A week passed, and my taste in clothing began to change. I rummaged through Roy's closet, looking for men's pants that fit. But I found that his slacks were too tight around my hips and too bunched in the waist. So I went out and bought some "relaxed fit" woman's slacks, then also a lovely pair I couldn't resist, one squeezing my thighs and tightly clinging to my rear to give me ravishing curves. I also wanted to wear men's shirts again, but there too I had to compromise. I was way too up-thrust by my bra, and I needed a bra to keep my breasts from bouncing. I found some man-tailored blouses that fit me nicely. But not too severe nor revealing, the collar softened by a delightful lace scallop. Thus much for my reverting to a man's wardrobe. More significant and reassuring, I found myself taking an interest in girls again. As I watched some stroll the streets my penis took on a renewed life of its own. One night I beat off while thinking of girl I'd glimpsed that evening in a bar. Then thinking about Maddie. Then thinking about myself, what I'd become, and at that point I squirted! I explained all this to Roy, who was as decent as I'd hoped and told me he no longer expected sexual favors from me. But one night I asked him to caress my nipples just for a moment, and then got so passionately amorous I couldn't stop myself, and we were both exhausted by morning. Roy joked that the rent I'd promised to pay for my bed would never again fall into arrears, because he just had. Then he did me again. Men weren't at all bad, I decided, even though I now again felt that women were where most of it