Sanctuary
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Sanctuary
By Cal Y. Pygia
Old habits die hard. Jamie Lee was reminded of the truth of
that aphorism the day that she forgot to use the ladies'
room. As a transsexual who'd undergone counseling and was
presently taking daily doses of estrogen both to repress
her testosterone and to maintain her breasts, softened
skin, fuller buttocks, and the other secondary sexual
characteristics of the female, Jamie usually remembered to
use the public restroom that coincided with her change in
sex. However, today, distracted by her concern with her
father's declining health, she entered the men's room, as
she had done all the years of her life, before she'd
discovered that she was a woman trapped inside the body of
the opposite sex.
She'd done more than merely enter the wrong restroom. She'd
actually stepped up to one of the urinals, unzipped her
jeans, withdrawn her penis, and begun to piss. She knew
she'd made a mistake when she heard the man who'd just
entered the facility cry, "What the hell?"
Mortified, Jamie blushed, willing her bladder to cease
emptying itself, and stuffing her penis back into her
pants.
"Freak!" the man cried.
Jamie's blush deepened. She hurried toward the exit,
without pausing to wash her hands.
The man blocked her way. He was big and burly. "Where the
hell do you think you're going?"
"Please," Jamie entreated him, "just let me go."
He grinned humorlessly. "Like hell." He strode toward
Jamie, but she dodged him and sprinted toward the door, as
fast as she could on her heels. Behind her, she heard the
big man's grunt of surprise, followed by a curse. She never
knew whether he chased her (although she suspected he did),
because she never glanced back to find out. In a couple of
seconds, she'd exited the men's room and was in the hallway
outside. What if the big lug did intend to pursue her?
Jamie asked herself. She didn't know whether he intended to
hurt her physically, molest her sexually, or call the cops
on her for being in the wrong restroom. It was best not to
take chances, she decided, and fled into the sanctuary of
the ladies' room. Even the muscle-bound creep who'd
accosted her in the men's room wouldn't dare step foot
inside the ladies' room, Jamie thought.
She was right. The bully didn't chase her into the ladies'
room. Some place were safe, even from men who would
intimidate, harass, browbeat, or otherwise persecute a
beautiful young transsexual for no other reason that she
was different from genetic women. Assholes like the idiot
who'd confronted her in the men's room couldn't live and
let live; they had to control and dominate others.
Outside, the oppressor paused in the hallway. His feeble
mind sought to figure out how his prey could have escaped
him. He was right on her ass. In fact, the restroom door
had slammed in his face. If it hadn't been for the damned
door, he'd surely have been able to seize the freak by her-
-or his--or its--wrist before it got away!
As it was, the freaky bitch couldn't have gone far. There
was still time for him to have a little fun with "her". And
fun it would be, too. One hell of a pair of tits jutted
from her taut blouse, and both a fine ass and long,
tapering legs were evident inside her tight jeans. There'd
been no time for her--or him--or it to go more than a few
yards before he'd opened the door and given chase. Think!
He told himself. Where could the transgendered freak have
gone?
His eyes fell on the stylized figure that represented a
woman in a skirt, and he knew, as soon as he saw it, that
his quarry had fled into the ladies' room. Of course! He
told himself. There was nowhere else the freaky bitch could
have hidden in so short a time!
Now that he'd located his intended victim's hiding place,
another problem presented itself. He couldn't very well
enter the ladies' restroom. There were some places that
were off-limits even to a big galoot such as he--not that
the no-man's land of the ladies' room had been any obstacle
to the transsexual freak. Maybe he could flush the shemale
bitch out by announcing "her" presence to one of the women
who entered the lavatory, he thought, grinning.
It wasn't long before he had the chance to test his plan.
Within minutes, a beefy, blue-haired matron waddled up the
hallway, making her way toward the ladies' room. "Watch
out!" the bully warned. "There's a freak in there!"
The bovine woman eyed him suspiciously. "What?" she
demanded.
"One them transsexuals went in there."
Her beady eyes narrowed. "How do you know this person is a
transsexual?"
"He was in the men's room, peeing in the urinal just before
he ran into the ladies' room."
The beefy woman scowled. "What are you doing lurking about
the ladies' room, anyway?"
"I wanted to warn women about this wannabe woman freak."
"My daughter is a transsexual," the bovine woman declared,
anger flashing in her eyes.
The bully gulped. "Oh."
"She uses the ladies' room, too."
The bully took a few steps away from the glowering matron.
"Oh."
"Don't you know what a transsexual is?"
The bully shuffled his feet, looking at the floor. "No,
ma'am, I guess not."
"A person trapped in the body of the opposite sex," she
explained.
"Oh."
"If a transsexual entered the ladies' room, she has every
right to be there."
"Yes, ma'am."
"As much right as any other woman."
"Okay."
"And far more right than you have lurking about. I have a
mind to notify security about you."
"No need, ma'am. I was just leaving."
The beefy woman measured the bully with her eyes, as if she
were fitting him for a funeral shroud. "You'd better be!"
He slinked off, down the hallway.
The matron shook her head as he watched his retreat. Then,
she went into the ladies' room to see what in the world had
possessed her daughter to have gone into the men's room.
Alessandra
- 22.12.2020
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