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This story may not be re-posted without the permission of the author. ONE BAD TURN By Lana B. Dan Garrett slowly guided his brand new silver Jaguar XK into the reserved parking space and cut the ignition. He exited the car and approached the four-story brick building. He mindfully inhaled the early-morning cool air and detected the pleasant scents of honeysuckle and lilac. He held his head high and smiled as he passed the lawn placard reading, 'Ocudata Pharmaceuticals, Inc., providers of safe and effective medication you and your family can trust.' He entered the building through the revolving glass door and acknowledged the security guard manning his station in the lobby: "Hey, Richie." "Good morning, Mr. Garrett." He took the elevator to the fourth floor executive office suites and walked down the red-carpeted hallway until he came to the last office. He self-assuredly gazed at the bold black letters on the brown wooden door as he fished his keys from his pocket: 'Dan Garrett, President and CEO.' He unlocked the door and entered his office suite. At 7:30 it was still early so Anita, his secretary, had not yet arrived. He passed through the reception area and opened the door to his private office. He removed his jacket and hung it up in the closet. He crossed the room and settled into the black leather chair behind the large mahogany desk. He immediately set his sight on the framed photograph of the pretty blonde. He reached for it and lifted it off the desk. He held the picture in both of his hands and intently gazed at it. Marissa had been the love of his life. He'd been married to her for just two years when she was struck down by a taxicab while crossing the street during her lunch break. She'd remained in a coma for two weeks and then died. After marrying Marissa, he'd urged her to quit her job as a paralegal in a large law firm on Third Avenue in New York City. They didn't need the money. And he wanted to start a family. But Marissa had put him off. She'd loved her job. And she wasn't quite yet ready for motherhood. "In a few years, Dan. I promise," she'd said. He choked back a sob and placed the picture back on the desk. Guilt over his part in the tragedy boiled to the surface. 'Why did I let her keep working? I should have put my foot down.' But he knew in his heart that Marissa had been a strong-willed girl who'd have surely resisted any attempt to change her mind. She'd been dead for nearly three years and he still grieved. He'd begun dating eight months earlier, but none of the five or six girls he'd seen had appealed to him. He'd had sex with several of the girls and enjoyed it immensely, but he'd dumped each of them after two or three dates. They weren't bad looking and they didn't have character flaws. It was nothing like that. It was just that they weren't like Marissa. And that's what he wanted. He forced himself to stop thinking of his dead wife. The memories were just too painful. He shifted gears and thought of work. 'I wonder what's on the table today.' He looked for his daily calendar but couldn't find it. 'I'll just wait for Anita to get in.' He booted up his computer and for the next forty minutes, he caught up on the news and ball scores on CNN.com. A knock on the door startled him. "Come in." He watched as the door swung open to reveal his statuesque secretary. "Hi, Anita." "Good morning, Mr. Garrett. Can I get you some coffee?" "That'd be great." He watched her leave and thought that she, too, was nothing like Marissa. He returned his attention to the monitor and ran down the price of Ocudata's stock. He was pleased to see that it was up half a point. He was still smiling when Anita returned and handed him the cup. He took a sip. "Hmm. You make the best coffee, Anita." "Thanks, Mr. Garrett." "What's in store for today?" "You have a nine o'clock with Sam Murphy. Other than that, it's clear sailing for the rest of the day." "Thanks, Anita." He watched her shapely derriere tilt and slide as she left the room. He thought she had a nice figure but at five-ten, she was too tall for his tastes. Marissa had been 5'5" tall, five inches shorter than he was. He thought that that was the perfect height for a girl. He knew he was picky, but he couldn't help it. He leisurely sipped the coffee and turned his gaze to the other framed photograph on his desk. He fondly smiled at the picture of his mother and father, Margaret and Jeremy. He reflected that his father had founded Ocudata Pharmaceuticals from scratch thirty-eight years earlier with a ten-thousand dollar inheritance from his mother and that today, the company had a base value of over fifty million dollars. He also thought of his good fortune at his father's decision to leave him in control of the thriving business three years ago when he retired and moved to a grandiose gated bungalow community in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Jeremy's decision to retire was, for the most part, based on family considerations. Margaret's emphysema had progressively deteriorated over the years and Jeremy opted to abandon the harsh winters of Westchester County in New York for a more temperate climate. So he'd descended from his lofty corporate tier in a golden parachute worth fifteen million dollars and turned the company over to Dan, his dearly beloved son and only child. In assuming the reins of leadership, Dan quickly changed the tone of corporate management. He'd always believed his father had been overly sensitive to the needs of his employees. This was a business, not a family, so Dan made immediate changes that radically affected the company's workers. He reduced medical coverage by thirty percent. He eliminated days off for several holidays. He did away with the on- premises day care center. And he reduced the payroll by slashing the workforce by twelve percent. He lost nary a wink of sleep over the fates of the discharged employees. After all, wasn't that what unemployment insurance and welfare were for? Dan also engineered hostile takeovers of two smaller drug firms in the first three years of his reign at the helm of the company. Hundreds of people lost their jobs in Ocudata's successful maneuver to eliminate a few of its competitors. To Dan's way of thinking, it was simply the price they paid for the job they chose. A sense of self-satisfaction permeated him. He knew he'd been fortunate. At only twenty-nine years old, he was the CEO of a multi- million dollar pharmaceutical empire. 'If only I had Marissa.' The intercom buzz interrupted his thoughts. He pushed the button. "Yes?" "Sam Murphy is here for his appointment, Mr. Garrett." "Send him in, Anita." Sam Murphy entered the office and offered his hand. They shook. "Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Garrett." "Call me Dan. Have a seat, Sam." He watched as Murphy settled into the upholstered chair. He'd always liked Murphy. He was a dynamic and talented chemist who'd been promoted to Head of Research and Development five years earlier. "What's up, Sam?" "Well, I've been working on something for the past two years and I think it's ready for a rollout." "Yeah? What is it?" Murphy hesitated a moment. He wondered how the news of a product completely unlike anything ever made by Ocudata would be received by his boss. He knew that Ocudata had sown its fortune primarily on over- the-counter analgesics, allergy suppressants, and cold and sinus remedies. "Well, it's actually a suggestive agent, Dan." "Suggestive agent? I'm not sure I know what that means." "It's a compound that effectively convinces someone to say or do something he's not otherwise inclined to say or do. Or to give him a memory of something that's never happened." Murphy noticed the curious look on his boss' face. "What would we do with something like that?" "Well, I bet the boys down at Guantanamo Bay may find it useful." "I'm not sure I'm following you." "They've got all those foreign detainees down there. They're trying to pry intelligence information out of them. This drug can help them do that. I call it rhapsody." "Rhapsody?" "Yeah. The dupe enthusiastically complies with any suggestion he's given." Garrett considered what he'd been told and nodded. "Is this rhapsody safe?" "I've completed a one-year trial run on three white rats and a rhesus monkey. There were absolutely no adverse side-effects." Garrett nodded again. "How do you know the stuff's effective?" Murphy hesitated, and then: "Are we off the record?" "Absolutely." "Well, my wife's got this cousin. Name's Alec. A real schmuck. He's hated sports his whole life." He paused. "And?" "Well, I used rhapsody on him. I advised him that he loved all sports- related activities. I told him that he lived for sports." He paused again. Garrett grew impatient. "Well, what happened?" "He spends all of his free time watching sports now. He bought season tickets for the Mets and Giants. He watches golf, boxing, auto racing and basketball on TV. Anything sports-related. Even bowling and pool. And he took up tennis, jogging and swimming." "No shit?" "It's the gospel truth." "Exactly how does this stuff work?" "That's the beauty of it. It's in liquid form. It's odorless and tasteless and it leaves no trace. You just add a drop to any beverage. The target drinks it and for the next several minutes, he's susceptible to any suggestion. And he'll believe that he thought it up himself, too." "Does anyone else at R&D know about this?" "Not a soul. I worked up the formula alone. You're the first one I've talked to about it. No one else knows." "Good. Where's the documentation?" "It's all on my computer. Do you want me to forward it to you?" "Yeah. I'll need to run it over to legal so they can start working on the patent application." "Okay." Murphy sensed the meeting was over and he stood up. "I guess I'll be going." Garrett stood up, too. "If this stuff does what you say, Sam, you're in for a nice bonus." "Oh, it works. For sure. Thanks, Dan." He turned around to leave. Garrett sat back down and considered the potential for this new drug as he watched Murphy exit the office. He knew that if handled properly, it could generate windfall profits for the company. And for himself, too. He turned and gazed out the window. He saw that the clouds had all dissipated. The sun burned brightly in the clear blue sky. It had become a beautiful spring morning. 'Maybe I'll play nine holes of golf today?' He walked to the door and opened it. "Anita?" "Yes?" "You said the decks are all clear for me today, right?" "That's correct." "I think I'll head down to the golf course. You can reach me on my cell if you need me." "Alright." He returned to his office and retrieved his jacket and keys. He walked back out and toward the exit door. "See you in a few hours, Anita." He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He immediately saw someone walking toward him. 'Is that a man or woman?' He determined the gender as male only when the distance between them had diminished to a few feet. He looked down at him. "Can I help you?" "Uh... yeah. I'm looking for the Personnel Department. I'm taking an interview for a job here today." "Yeah? What job?" He estimated that the young man was about four or five inches shorter than he was. He wore a gray wool pinstriped suit and an open-collared black cotton shirt. "Sales associate." "What's your name?" "Uh... Ron. Ron Stanton." "I'm Dan Garrett, Ron. I own this place. Why don't you follow me?" "Uh... sure, Mr. Garrett." He walked back into the office suite with Stanton in tow. He noticed Anita's surprised reaction as he stepped into his private office and closed the door. "Have a seat, Ron." He sank into the leather chair behind his desk and watched as Ron sat down, too. "So you're applying for a position in sales?" "Yes, sir." "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, Ron?" He carefully studied the young man. He had longish light blond hair that obscured his ears. And he had an androgynous look about him. His ever-so-slight linear nose and angular chin just barely betrayed him as male. Something in Dan's mind suddenly clicked. 'My God. He looks like Marissa. He could be her twin brother.' "Well, I graduated from Illinois State University six years ago with a B.A. in business. Then I worked in Chicago as a buyer for a bookstore chain for about five years. Last year, I moved to New York. For the past eight months, I've been working as a sales associate for Allison Cosmetics in their home office in downtown Manhattan." "Hmm." Even his voice was borderline effeminate. "So you're looking to change jobs? You don't like working where you are now?" "Actually, I like my job. I'm really looking for a change of scenery. I thought I'd like living in Manhattan, but it's too crowded. And noisy too. Not to mention the high cost of living. I'm paying a small fortune for a studio apartment on 56th Street off Eighth Avenue. It's been difficult to save money." "I can see your point. How old are you?" He couldn't avert his stare from the young man's crystal blue eyes. They could have been Marissa's eyes. "I'm twenty-eight, Mr. Garrett." Dan would have guessed he was twenty-two. It was hard to believe that Ron was just a year younger than he was. "Family?" "I'm single. My parents died when I was a small child. I was raised in a foster home with four other children. But I worked hard to make something of myself. I was a straight-A student in high school. I received a full-tuition college scholarship. And I graduated college cum laude." "Very impressive. So you want to work for Ocudata?" "Yes, sir. I saw the ad for the job in the Times' classified section. It sounds like something that's right up my alley. And I like the location. It's away from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan." He pulled his stare away from Ron and reached for the intercom. "Anita?" "Yes, Mr. Garrett?" "Get me Bob Strickland from Personnel on the phone." "Yes, sir." A moment later the telephone rang and he reached for it. "Bob? Hi. I intercepted your interview for the sales associate position. A lad by the name of Ron Stanton. I talked to him and I'm very impressed. I think we should hire this young man. I'm sending him over to you. Get him started on the paperwork, okay? Thanks." He hung up the phone and looked at Ron, who gratefully smiled. "Well, I guess you passed the interview, Ron." "Gee, thanks, Mr. Garrett. Thanks a lot." "My pleasure, Ron." He offered his hand across the desk and they shook. "Welcome aboard." He noticed how insubstantial Ron's hand was. He also detected a slight wiggle in Ron's backside as he left the office. *** Dan stepped out of the shower, dried himself off and dressed in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. He walked to the kitchen and poured himself three fingers of Wild Turkey 101. He took the whiskey tumbler to the living room, where he sank into the soft brown leather sofa. He reflected on his day. After the interview with Ron Stanton, he'd driven from the office in White Plains to Dobbs Ferry, where he put in a full eighteen holes of golf at the country club. He ate a late lunch there and then drove home to his sixteen-room Victorian on two acres in Port Chester. He couldn't get the image of Ron Stanton out of his mind. He looked so much like Marissa. He shook his head. 'Amazing. They could be twins.' He gazed at his wristwatch and saw that it was a few minutes past 8:00. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels until he stumbled upon the movie 'Soldier's Girl.' He'd seen it before but watched it again. The subject of transsexualism had always interested him in a lascivious way. It utterly amazed him how some of the male-to-female transsexuals turned out to be so glamorous. After the movie, he watched the last few innings of a baseball game on ESPN. He yawned and decided to go to bed or risk falling asleep on the couch. He lay in bed and thought of the meeting with Sam Murphy. Then he thought of the interview with Ron Stanton. He tossed it all around in his mind. He fell asleep aroused. A week later.... Garrett knocked on the open door to Sam Murphy's office. He watched as Murphy looked up from his desk and made eye contact with him. He appeared surprised. "Can I see you for a minute, Sam?" "Sure, Dan. Have a seat. Did you get the rhapsody file?" Murphy wondered what his boss wanted as he watched him sit on the vinyl chair. "Yup. I forwarded it to the boys at legal a few days ago." "Good." He cleared his throat. "What can I do for you?" "I need a favor, Sam." "Sure. What?" "I'd like some of this new drug of yours." Murphy considered. He wondered what Garrett wanted it for, but knew he couldn't ask. He also knew that he couldn't say no. He was well-aware of Garrett's reputation for ruthlessness and could only hope that he wouldn't use the drug for some illegal activity. And if he did, that it wouldn't be detected and traced back to its origin. "Sure, Dan." Murphy stood up and walked to the refrigerator in the far corner of the room. He returned with a small bottle of amber fluid. He offered it to him. "Here, Dan. This is four ounces of the stuff. You have to keep it refrigerated or it destabilizes in twenty-four hours." Garrett took the bottle and studied it. Murphy sat back down behind his desk and opened its middle drawer. He removed a small object. "Take this eye-dropper, too. Remember, you only have to use a drop of the stuff. Put it in any drink." "Thanks. There's one more thing, Sam. I need you to keep this strictly confidential. Can I rely on you for that?" "Absolutely. No one will ever know." The next day.... Dan walked into the sales department on the third floor of the Ocudata Building and set his sights on the office of Maggie Owens, Head of Sales for the company. A moment later, he knocked on the open door and watched as the attractive redhead looked up from the papers she'd been reading. "Hi, Maggie." "Hello, Mr. Garrett. What can I do for you?" "I need to borrow one of your employees today. Do you mind?" "Of course not. Anyone in particular?" She was relieved that that was all he wanted. "Ron Stanton." "Sure. I'll go get him." "Thanks. By the way, how's he working out?" "Very good. He's a fast learner. He's going to be a good one." "Yeah. That's my impression, too." While he waited for Maggie to fetch Ron, he thought of her resistance to dating him. He'd asked Maggie out for drinks several times but she'd always politely declined. She'd said, "Sorry, Mr. Garrett, but I don't think it's a good idea to mix business with pleasure." He liked her looks and was disappointed at her ongoing rejections. Maggie returned with Ron. "Here's your man." Dan smiled and thought, 'Not for long.' *** Dan steered the Jag up the long pebbled driveway and pulled it to a stop in front of the detached two-car garage. He turned to his passenger. "I really appreciate this, Ron. I'm a little reluctant to leave the painter in the house alone. I'm not exactly the trusting type. If it weren't for this important meeting, I'd stay here myself. This is the only day the damn painter's available for the next two months." "No problem, Mr. Garrett. I'm glad I could help." "Here's the house key. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. I'll see you in a few hours." Eight hours later.... Dan guided the car up the driveway and disengaged the ignition. He yawned. The eighteen holes of golf he'd just played at the club had tired him out. He smelled paint as soon as he entered the house. He found Ron asleep on the recliner in the living room. He looked at his wristwatch and saw that it was 8:05. He walked to the chair and jostled Ron's shoulder, awakening him. "Oh. Hi, Mr. Garrett. Guess I fell asleep. Sorry about that. What time is it?" "It's about 8:00." Ron gathered his thoughts. "The painter left at around 5:00. He did a nice job." "Good. Where did you say you live, Ron?" "In Hastings. I have a garden apartment there." "That's about twenty miles from here, isn't it?" "Yeah." "Would you do me a favor?" "Sure." "I'm really beat. That business meeting this afternoon took a lot out of me. Would you mind staying here tonight?" "Not at all." "Good. I can drop you off at your apartment tomorrow morning. Do you have a car?" "I just bought a new Corolla last week. I'm picking it up next Monday. Right now, I take the bus to work." "So I'll take you to your apartment tomorrow morning and you can change clothes. Then we'll drive in to work together. How's that for a plan?" "Sounds good." "Say, I'm having a beer. How about you?" "Absolutely." "Are you hungry?" "Nah. I made a turkey sandwich a few hours ago." "Good. I'll be right back." Dan walked into the kitchen and snatched two bottles of Sam Adams from the refrigerator. He poured the beer into glasses. He then went downstairs to the study and unlocked the refrigerator there. He retrieved the small bottle, returned to the kitchen and fetched the eye-dropper from the utensils drawer. He pulled the rubber stopper off the bottle, pinched out a drop of rhapsody, and squeezed the drug into one of the beers. He replaced the rhapsody and brought the beers into the living room. "Here you go, Ron. Enjoy." "Thanks, Mr. Garrett." "Please call me Dan?" "Okay... Dan." "Good." He sat on the couch and watched as his guest imbibed. Within a minute, his expression was fuzzy and his eyes glazed. "Can you here me, Ron?" "Yeah." "Good. I want you to listen closely. Okay?" "Yeah." "You have an urge to wear women's clothes. You find it sexually stimulating. You've suppressed this impulse for years. But you can't anymore. It's become way too strong. It's irresistible. You have no choice but to act out on it. It's the only way for you to get relief. Do you understand?" "Yeah." "Good." Dan leaned back and sipped at his beer. Clarity returned to Ron's expression a few minutes later. "How's the beer, Ron?" "It's good." They watched a ball game to its conclusion. The Mets had lost again. They both yawned. Dan turned to Ron. "I guess it's about time to pack it in for the night." He then led Ron to a ground floor guest room. "You should be comfortable here." "Thanks." "Good night." He took a few steps and turned around. "Oh. One more thing. I don't know if I mentioned it, but my wife died a few years ago. I moved all of her clothes and things into this room. I just couldn't find the will to discard her personal effects. Hope you don't mind?" "Uh... of course not." "Good. Sleep tight." "Good night." Ron walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He took in his new surroundings. The room was large. In its center was a queen-sized bed. He saw a door in the far corner and walked to it. He opened it to reveal a bathroom with a shower stall. He walked to the dresser against the adjacent wall. He saw the vanity next to it. On its top was a throng of ladies' cosmetics. His heartbeat quickened. He stepped over to the large walk-in closet. He slid open one of its doors. He set his sight on a vast array of dresses dangling from hangers. Thirty, maybe forty of them. And there were skirts and blouses, too. He shifted his gaze downward and feasted his eyes on a wide assortment of shoes. There were high-heels, low-heels and flats. Pumps and sandals. And boots as well. His heart thumped loud and fast. He walked to the bed and sat on its edge. He tried to calm down. He couldn't. He thought of his secret little vice. For the past few years, he'd had the urge to cross-dress. He'd suppressed it. But lately it'd become stronger and stronger. And now this. He stood up on impulse and walked back to the closet. He studied the dresses. They were so pretty. His will to resist melted away like a slab of butter on a hot grill. He knew there was only one decision he needed to make. He finally decided on the red cotton party dress and reached into the closet. *** Dan sat at the dining room table and sipped at a mug of coffee. He heard approaching footsteps. Ron entered the room and sat at the table across from him. "Good morning, Ron." "Good morning." It was easy to see that Ron looked troubled and distracted. His hands were clasped and he stared at the tabletop. "Are you alright, Ron? You look a little out-of-sorts." "Uh... I'm fine." "Well, I bet you can use some coffee. I'll go get some." Dan left and returned a moment later with a ceramic mug. He handed it to Ron. "Here. This'll help." He watched as Ron tasted the coffee. A moment later, an obscure expression spilled over his face. "Can you hear me, Ron?" "Yeah." "Good. You consider me your friend and confidant. You want to share your troubles and concerns with me. You realize that I can help you with your problems. You can trust me. Isn't that right?" "Yeah." Dan leisurely sipped his coffee and watched as Ron's expression turned lucid. "You look a little troubled, Ron. Are you sure nothing's wrong?" Ron considered. He knew that he needed to talk about it. It wasn't good to internalize something like this. And he regarded Dan as his friend. He knew he could trust him. He decided to confide in him. "If I tell you something, do you promise to keep it between us?" "Absolutely." "Well, for the past couple of years, I've had this impulse to..." He stopped cold. "What, Ron? You can tell me." "Well... to cross-dress, I suppose." He paused for a moment. "And seeing all those dresses last night... well, it set me off." He was relieved at finally getting it off his chest. But he was also embarrassed at divulging such a private and personal matter. Dan was pleased by Ron's admission. It clearly confirmed that rhapsody worked as advertised. And he found Ron's unease entertaining. But he concealed his true reactions and twisted his expression into one of concern. "You shouldn't be embarrassed, Ron. Lots of men cross-dress. There's no harm in it. If that's what turns you on, you have every right to do it. It's your own business." Ron curiously watched as Dan abruptly stood up and left the room. Then he contemplated Dan's remarks. He decided his friend was right. His cross-dressing harmed no one. And it made him feel good. Why shouldn't he do it? It was no one's business but his own. Dan returned a few minutes later with a brown suitcase. He looked at Ron and smiled. "I packed some clothes for you, buddy. Take them home and enjoy yourself. Consider it a gift." Ron looked down. He was close to crying. It felt so good to have someone who understood. He looked back up and nodded. "Thanks, Dan. You're a true friend." *** Two weeks had passed since Ron's admission to Dan and every night since, Ron slipped into a dress for a few hours before retiring to bed. Dan had packed five lovely dresses into the brown suitcase as well as a small supply of nylon stockings and a pair of three-inch black leather pumps. And Ron enjoyed wearing them all. It made him happy. It aroused him, too, particularly the exquisite feel of the nylons on his freshly- shaven legs. He also found that cross-dressing relieved him. He'd had the impulse to wear women's clothes for years but was fearful of acting out on it. Now, he'd been miraculously liberated from his inexplicable restraints. It was like a ball and chain had been unshackled from his leg. The telephone rang and he walked into the kitchen. His backside swayed with each footstep. He liked the way the high-heels made him walk. He smiled and reached for the phone. "Hello?" "Hi, Ron. It's Dan." "Oh. Hi, Dan." "What are you up to?" "Uh... nothing much. Just hanging out." "Yeah. Me too. Why don't you come on over. We can watch the Mets game on the tube. They're playing Atlanta." "I don't know..." "Aw, c'mon. It's Friday night. Get out of the house, Ron. It'll be fun." "Well, okay." "Good. I'll see you soon?" "Yeah. Bye." Ron was disappointed at having to take off the clothes. He'd looked forward to wearing them for a few more hours. But he knew there'd be lots of other times to cross-dress. And it'd be nice to watch a ball game and have a few drinks with his friend. He was in his new car and on his way to Dan's place in twenty minutes. *** Dan handed Ron a glass of red wine and sat on the other end of the couch. He looked at the TV. It was the bottom of the third and the Mets had the bases loaded with no one out. A moment later, he turned to Ron. He had a bland affect. "Can you hear me, Ron?" "Yeah." "Good. Your impulse to cross-dress is becoming stronger and stronger. You want to wear women's clothes all the time now, not only at night. And you want to wear makeup now, too. You've decided that you want to look like a real girl. And you've also decided that you want to show me how you look all dressed-up. You want my opinion. Isn't that right?" "Yeah" Dan returned his attention to the game. Typically, the inning was over and the Mets hadn't scored a single run. He looked back at Ron. His expression appeared normal. "Are you using those clothes I gave you, buddy?" "Uh... yeah." "Good. Feel free to try a few things on, if you'd like. You know where they are." "You mean now?" "Why not?" Ron considered. He'd been looking forward to wearing a dress tonight. The impulse was strong. It'd feel good to satisfy it. And he'd recently toyed with the idea of dressing up in front of Dan. He really wanted his friend's opinion. "Are you sure it's alright?" "Absolutely." He'd already stood up and taken two steps before Dan had answered the question. *** Ron was back in the ground floor guest room behind the closed door. His heart thumped like a bass drum. He decided that if he was going to put himself on display, then he wanted to look nice. 'I'll go the whole route.' He walked to the dresser and pulled open the drawers. He eyed the bras, panties and nylons. Then he undressed and hoisted a pair of pink silk panties onto himself. He stuffed some toilet tissue into a matching bra and slipped into it. Then he rolled a new pair of nude pantyhose up his legs and pulled it onto his waist. What little hair he had on his legs he'd just shaved off the previous night, so the hose looked and felt luxurious. He walked to the closet, savoring every moment of the seductive feel of the sheer nylons on his smooth legs. He scanned the dresses for a few minutes and decided on a nice pink silk floral print number. He raised it over his head and pulled it down onto himself. It was a chore to lift the rear zipper, but he finally got it all the way up. He found a pair of three-and-a-half inch white leather pumps on the floor of the closet and stepped into them. They fit as if they were custom-made just for him. He approached the vanity with little difficulty. He'd practiced walking in high-heels over the previous week and had basically conquered the task. His backside rotated on its axis as he closed in on his destination. He felt sexy and smiled about it. He sat on the small wooden chair and looked into the vanity's mirror. He reached for the brush and ran it through his hair. He saw that it fell to an inch or so below his ears. He wished his hair was longer, but it still looked rather girlish at its present length. He examined his reflection. 'I wonder how I'll look in makeup. Only one way to find out.' He looked down and located a bottle of foundation. He applied some to his face. He then ran a pencil over his brows and put on a little eyeliner and mascara. He completed the process by coating his lips with pink lipstick. He studied his face in the mirror and a chill of excitement scatted up his spine. 'Geez, I look just like a girl.' The thought reverberated in his mind and goose bumps formed on his arms. He looked down at his hands. He hadn't clipped his nails for a few weeks so he decided to give himself a manicure. He found an emery board and got to work. He carefully fashioned his nails into rounded points and then he slowly brushed pink nail polish onto them. Studying his hands while the polish dried, he wondered what they'd look like if his nails were longer. 'Maybe I'll let them grow out.' He walked to the full-length wall mirror near the closet and stood before it. He widened his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. 'I can't believe it. I really look nice.' His knees buckled and his breathing hastened. He carefully walked to the bed and sat on its edge. He knew he had to regain his composure. He did his best to catch his breath. *** Dan looked at his wristwatch and shook his head. 'Where the hell is he, already? He's been in there for over an hour.' He considered going to the guest room when he heard the clacking sounds of high-heels in the distance. They grew louder and abruptly stopped. "Is that you, Ron?" "Yeah." "Why don't you come in here?" "You won't laugh, right?" "Of course not." "Promise me you won't laugh." Dan rolled his eyes. "Alright, I promise I won't laugh." He kept his stare glued to the archway and the clacking sounds resumed. He watched as Ron finally crossed the threshold and entered the room. He stopped a few feet into it and just stood there. Ron was nervous that Dan hadn't said anything. "Well... uh... what do you think?" He eagerly awaited his response. "What do I think? You look sensational, Ron. That's what I think." "Really? You're not just saying that, are you?" "Absolutely not. You look great in that dress. It flatters you." And Dan really meant it. Ron reminded him of Marissa so very much. He remembered Marissa in that dress. It was one of Dan's favorites. Ron's lips twisted into a smile. "Thanks, Dan. That's nice of you to say." He shyly looked down at the floor. "You know, I value your opinion. It means a lot to me." Dan silently agreed with Ron's assessment. 'It means a lot more than you realize, pal.' The following Friday.... Ron unlocked the door and entered his apartment. He disrobed and then he showered and shaved. He was in a rush to get over to Dan's place. They'd made plans to watch the Mets play the Yankees. He was excited. Ron's excitement wasn't in the least bit based on viewing the first game of the Subway Series. He knew he'd have the chance to dress up for Dan again tonight. That's what excited him. He recalled the previous Friday night. Dan had been so complimentary. He'd flattered him. He'd made him feel so comfortable. He'd made him feel good about himself. Ron also thought of the week that had just ended. He'd been so uncomfortable at work. He couldn't concentrate on his assignments. He kept thinking of dressing up. It nearly consumed him. Every day, he'd rushed home at quitting time. And as soon as he'd returned to his apartment, he threw on a dress. It relieved him, but he'd become concerned over his compulsive behavior. He'd visited Dan in his office on Wednesday and shared his worries with him. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Dan. All I think about lately is dressing up. It's obsessing me," he'd confided. Dan had been so understanding in addressing his discomfiture. "Don't work yourself into a state over this, Ron. It's not a big deal. It's only a harmless little vice. Like smoking. We all have them. Don't make this into a big production," he'd reassuringly told him. Dan's kind words had relieved him of his uneasiness. He knew he was fortunate to have a friend like Dan to keep him level-headed. And he knew that Dan was right. It was no big deal. He returned his thoughts to the task at hand and quickly dressed. Then he rushed out the door. Two hours later.... Ron sat at the end of the couch and watched the game. He'd finished dressing and making himself up a half-hour earlier. This time, he'd chosen a tight-fitting gray wool skirt and a black silk blouse. His lips and nails were bright red. He admired his legs, which were crossed at the thighs. They looked sexy in the nylons and four-inch black leather pumps. And Dan had just paid him a particular compliment about his legs. "They're so shapely, Ron. There's no doubt about it, your legs are your best feature," he'd said. Ron had blushed at the remark but was thrilled to have received it. It had made him feel good all over. He heard footsteps and turned to see Dan enter the room. He carried two glasses. Dan cut loose a wolf whistle as he closed in on Ron. "Hot damn. What a pair of legs on you." He handed a glass of chilled white wine to Ron and sat on the couch a few feet from him. Ron's face reddened again. "Stop it, Dan. You're embarrassing me." But he secretly reviled in the compliment. He brought the glass to his mouth and took a sip of wine. It was very good. And it cooled off the heat in his face a bit. Dan watched the game for a moment and turned to Ron. He had a dull look on his face. "Can you hear me, Ron?" "Yeah." "Good. You've now discovered the root cause of your problem. You've learned the reason why you like to wear women's clothes so much. It's because you want to be a woman. You now realize that you want to be a girl more than anything you've ever wanted. And you'll seek my help to achieve that goal. You'll rely on my advice because you trust me. And you'll appreciate the help I give you. You'll see me in a new light. You'll even grow fond of me in a romantic way. Isn't that right?" "Yeah." Dan turned toward the TV and saw that the score was tied at three. He watched the game for a while and then looked back at Ron. He curiously observed him as he held his right hand before his face and stared at it. He was admiring his nails. "How's everything going, buddy?" "Fine." "You know, you were a little upset when you came to see me at my office on Wednesday. Do you remember?" Ron thought back to the office visit. He recalled that he'd seen Dan to discuss his growing inclination to cross-dress. "Yeah, I remember." And then a bright light suddenly flashed in his mind. Dan immediately saw the change in Ron's expression. It was clear and distinct. "What is it, Ron?" "It's just come to me, Dan." "What has?" "The reason why I think about cross-dressing all the time. I don't know why I hadn't seen it before. It seems so obvious now." "Really? What's the reason?" "It's because I want to be..." He couldn't continue. It was just too embarrassing. "You want to be what, Ron?" He ignored the question and looked into his lap. "Listen, whatever it is, you can tell me. I can help. Don't you trust me, Ron?" "Of course I do." "Then tell me. What do you want to be?" Ron continued to stare into his lap. And in a barely audible voice, he said, "I want to be a girl." "Hmm. I think you could be on to something. You may be right. It's probably the reason why you think about cross-dressing so much." Ron looked up at his friend with bulging eyes. "I know! It's the root cause of my problem! But what can I do? I'm a man." "Well, you're actually a transsexual." "A what?" "Put simply, you have a woman's mind trapped in a man's body. But there's a way to fix that." Ron's eyes bulged again. "Really? How?" "It's called sexual reassignment surgery." "What's that?" "It's where a surgeon modifies your body to appear female. He surgically brings your body into line with your mind." "That could be done to me?" "It's a demanding process, but it's certainly possible if that's what you really want. Is it?" Ron thought for a moment, and then: "Yes, I do. More than anything I've ever wanted." He looked down for a moment. Then he lifted his head and made eye contact with Dan. "Will you help me?" "Of course I will. You're my friend." Ron was close to tears. "Thank you." "You're welcome, buddy." Ron watched as Dan slowly stretched his mouth into a warm smile. It was charming. And that made him see Dan in a completely different light. He realized that Dan was such a giving and warm-hearted man. And he noticed that he was rather handsome, too. Ron's mouth took on a life of its own and he fondly smiled back at Dan. Two months later.... Ron sat at the vanity in the ground floor guest room and worked on his nails with the emery board. They'd grown a little too long for his tastes, so he trimmed their length to about a half-inch beyond his fingertips. Then he contoured them into oval points. Satisfied with their shape, he carefully applied a coat of pink polish onto each nail. He then patiently waited for them to dry. It was an arduous and time- consuming process, but it was worth it. He extended his arms and admired his newly-painted nails. He thought that they made his hands look elegant and refined. And pretty, too. They finally dried and he brushed on a second coat. As he waited out the drying process once more, he reflected on the events of the past two months. A lot had happened. A few days after Dan had graciously volunteered to assist him with his gender reassignment, he urged Ron to move into his house. "It'll be easier for you that way, Ron. I'll be right there for you when you need me. Trust me, it's the best way," he'd said. It seemed to make sense to Ron, so he'd agreed. He gave up his garden apartment and moved into the ground floor guest room in Dan's house. And at Dan's encouragement, he'd discarded all of his male clothes. "You don't need them anymore, Ron. It's best that you get rid of them," he'd proposed. That had made sense as well, so Ron went along with the suggestion. Ron had casually researched the subject of gender reassignment treatment on the Internet and learned that it was an expensive proposition. That saddened him because he had no savings. But Dan stepped in to save the day and volunteered to pay for it. Ron initially balked at the offer, but Dan persisted. "Hey, it's not like I can't afford it. And what are friends for, anyway? You can pay me back when you're able to," he'd argued. Ron capitulated and thanked him for his kindness. Dan's gracious assistance in the matter had been invaluable. In moving forward with the undertaking, Dan made an appointment for Ron to see a psychiatrist by the name of Dr. Irving Blau at a gender reassignment facility in midtown Manhattan called The Transgender Institute, or TGI for short. Ron's first session with Dr. Blau, a month-and-a-half earlier, had proved worthwhile. He'd learned a lot about gender reassignment. Dr. Blau had explained that the sexual reassignment process was a slow and cautious one. He'd said that it was necessary to proceed with deliberation to ensure that the patient was psychologically ready, willing and able to live the rest of his life as a member of the opposite sex. After surgery was performed, Dr. Blau noted, there was no turning back the clock. "A precipitous decision to proceed to immediate surgery is ill-advised. It's better to be safe than sorry, Ron. Anyone who undertakes such a life-changing course of action needs a window of time to reconsider the consequences. A safety net, so to speak," he'd said. Dr. Blau also had informed him of the applicable sexual reassignment protocols. He'd explained that the patient was required to live and work as a woman for a year before surgery was approved. And Dr. Blau had advised him that the patient was expected to take hormones during this period. "You'll be prescribed female hormones, Ron. You'll grow breasts and develop curves. Your skin will soften. You'll even experience female emotions. Are you sure that this is what you want?" "Yes, Dr. Blau. More than anything I've ever wanted." Dr. Blau additionally had described the intimate details of sexual reassignment surgery. He'd instructed Ron that the testicles and penile muscle tissue were surgically resected and that the residual skin tissue was then used to construct a vagina, clitoris, and vulva. "Just like a woman has, Ron. Are you sure that that's what you want?" "Yes, Dr. Blau. It's exactly what I want." Dr. Blau had been satisfied with Ron's answers, so he'd written him prescriptions for estrogen and progesterone. He'd also told Ron that he wanted to see him every two months to monitor his progress. And he'd advised Ron to think of himself as a woman. "You need to start making the mental adjustment immediately. It'll facilitate your transition. Choose a new name for yourself, Ron. One that fits your new gender." Ron told Dan everything that Dr. Blau had said. Dan considered the news and offered some advice of his own: "I think you should quit your job at Ocudata and work somewhere else, Ron. The employees all know you at Ocudata. It'd be too tumultuous for you, don't you think?" "But Dr. Blau said I need to work as a woman for a year." "I understand, Ron. I can get you another job. You'll be more comfortable that way. Don't worry about it. I have plenty of contacts." True to his word, Dan found a new job for Ron. For the past three weeks, he'd been working as a secretary at the Alpine Insurance Company in downtown Port Chester, just two miles from home. Only Jim Buckman, the owner of the company and an old friend of Dan's, was aware of Ron's circumstances. All of Ron's co-workers knew him as Rhonda. Ron pulled his thoughts back to the instant moment. He realized that so much had happened in the past two months that he'd become exhausted simply by thinking about everything. He took a short breather and turned his thoughts to Dan. He understood that none of this would have been possible without his help. He was emotionally and financially indebted to Dan to the extent that he'd never be able to repay him. 'He's the best friend I've ever had. What would I do without him?' He continued to have fond thoughts of Dan. He attempted to analyze his feelings for him. Had he become more than just a friend? He knew that over the past few weeks, he'd stolen glances of Dan several times as they ate dinner or watched TV. And he also knew that he'd been having secret thoughts about Dan's good looks. He'd silently characterized Dan as cute on more than one occasion. 'Oh my God. I think I may be attracted to him.' His heart rapidly pulsated. It took a while, but Ron finally calmed down. His thoughts turned introspective and he examined the question of his sexual identity. He knew he'd never been attracted to a man before. But he'd never been a ladies' man, either. He'd had sex with only two women in his entire life. He was confused. 'What am I?' he asked himself. He came up with an answer: 'I'm a man in the process of becoming a woman.' He rationalized that he still had a penis, so in biological terms he was still a man. Then he looked at his hands and saw the long pink nails. He gazed at his reflection in the vanity's mirror and saw the pink lips, smooth complexion, and the straight blond hair that flirted with his shoulders. He looked down and saw the early traces of cleavage that peaked out from his training bra. And he observed the shapely legs that were encased in nylons and graced by high-heels. He recalled Dr. Blau's sage advice. Dr. Blau had urged him to consider himself a woman. Not later, but now. And he knew that all of his co- workers perceived him as female. He was Rhonda to them. He was tired of being confused. It was time to make a stand. So at that very moment, he firmly resolved to think of himself as a girl. It was time to be Rhonda to everyone, including himself. A cool wave of relief washed over her. She thought of Dan again. This time, her thoughts were crystal clear. There was no doubt about it; she was attracted to him. And now, she didn't feel perverse or corrupt about it. She then wondered whether the attraction was mutual. She had no clue. 'I suppose I'll find out eventually.' A powerful urge to tell Dan of her decision seized her. The decision had been a significant one for her to make. She believed it was important that he be made aware of it. He should know she'd decided to think of herself as a girl. And she was curious to see his reaction. Maybe it would shed some light on whether her attraction to him was reciprocal? She walked to the wall mirror and studied her image. She thought she looked nice in the powder blue cotton dress and three-inch navy leather pumps. She primped herself a bit and posed until she was satisfied. Then she left the bedroom in search of Dan. She found him in the study working on his computer. He'd heard her approach and turned to her. He seemed pleased at her presence. "Hi, Dan." "Hey, Ron. What's up?" "Would you do me a favor?" "Sure. What?" "Would you call me Rhonda from now on? You know, like everyone does at work?" "You want me to call you Rhonda?" "Well, yeah. If you don't mind, I mean. I'd like to think of myself as ... you know, as a woman now." Dan saw from Ron's expression that he was quite serious. Ron obviously considered this an important request. And Dan realized that it was significant to him as well. That Ron now thought of himself as a woman brought Dan one step closer to his goal of molding him into the second- coming of Marissa. Dan stood up and approached him. Rhonda became nervous as Dan moved toward her. She awaited his reaction. Dan stopped a foot before him and looked down. He softly smiled. "Of course I'll call you Rhonda. And from this moment on, I'll think of you as a woman. Congratulations, Rhonda." "Thank you, Dan." She was so relieved. "You're welcome." They shared a moment of uneasy silence and then Dan bent down and hugged her. She hugged him back hard. A tear slid down her cheek and she felt foolish for crying. They separated. She avoided making eye contact. The moment was awkward. Rhonda looked down and finally spoke: "I think I'll make some... uh... coffee. Would you like some?" She kept her gaze at a downward tilt. "No thanks. I've got some work to finish." Rhonda turned around and stepped toward the door. She hadn't expected the discourse to be so cumbersome. She was glad it was over. "Okay. See you later." She deeply exhaled. She exited the room and considered the exchange. She'd been pleased by Dan's reaction. But her happiness with his response was plainly exceeded by the overwhelming sense of relief that came to pass when the moment had finally ended. Later that night.... Rhonda sat on the sofa with her legs crossed at the thighs and her hands clasped in her lap. She'd just turned the TV on to one of the CSI shows. She had the feeling she'd seen the episode before even though she knew that she hadn't. She heard advancing footsteps and turned to see Dan enter the living room. He carried a bottle of merlot and two wine glasses. Dan sat on the sofa a few feet from Rhonda. He uncorked the bottle and poured wine into the glasses. He handed her one. "Thanks, Dan." "You're welcome. Say, that lasagna was excellent. You're becoming a very good cook, Rhonda." "Thanks." She appreciated the compliment. She'd worked hard to prepare tonight's dinner. She'd taken to consulting cookbooks over the past few weeks to improve her limited culinary skills. They watched the show in relative silence. By the time it concluded, they were each well into their second glass of wine. Dan slid closer to Rhonda and looked down at her. "You know, I'm glad we had that little chat this afternoon." She looked up at him. "Yeah. Me too." They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. Dan lowered his head and their lips came together. Rhonda reached her arms around his shoulders. Their tongues met and they shared a passionate kiss. They came up for air and hugged. Rhonda gazed at his profile. He looked so handsome. His wavy brown hair, flared chin, straight-edged nose, hazel eyes and five o'clock shadow were very appealing. "You've been so nice to me, Dan. I owe you so much. I want to do something for you." Dan didn't know what she'd meant but soon found out when he heard the sound of his fly being unzipped. He watched as she lowered herself and took him in her mouth. He leaned back and gazed at the ceiling as he felt the wonderful sensations produced by her sliding mouth and playful tongue. He held out for as long as he could to protract the experience. Finally, he exploded in multiple, seemingly endless bursts. At long last spent, he kept his gaze on the ceiling and smiled in gratitude and fulfillment. It had been the first time in recent memory that he'd come as a result of someone else's actions. *** Dan opened the desk drawer and reached for the framed photo. He gazed at Marissa's image. She'd been so pretty. It was obvious she'd been better-looking than Rhonda. But that would soon change. Under the influence of rhapsody, Rhonda had become unhappy with her looks and expressed an interest in cosmetic surgery. Naturally, Dan had agreed to pay for it. Rhonda had had a consultation with a plastic surgeon at TGI two weeks earlier. Procedures on her nose and chin were discussed. Dan privately showed a picture of Marissa to the surgeon and asked him to use it as a model. The surgeon was reluctant to agree without Rhonda's approval. A ten-thousand dollar money order persuaded him to take the picture. Dan placed the photo back in the drawer. For obvious reasons, he'd taken to concealing all of his pictures of Marissa. He knew that one small misfire could blow the lid off the plan he'd so meticulously crafted. With the finish line in striking distance, he'd made every effort to anticipate snags and nip them in the bud. He believed he'd covered every base. He turned his thoughts to the sexual side of the equation. Things had progressed nicely on that flank, too. Three months had passed since his initial encounter with Rhonda and there'd been frequent replays in the interval. She'd kept him well-satisfied. His plan couldn't have been working better. He knew that he owed it all to rhapsody. None of it would have been possible without the wonder drug. It was truly an amazing concoction. The intercom buzz interrupted his thoughts and he reached for the button. "Yes?" "Sam Murphy is here, Sir." "Send him in, Anita." Murphy entered the room and they shook hands. "Have a seat, Sam." "Thanks." Murphy sat down and waited to see why he'd been summoned. "The boys at the Defense Department are quite fond of rhapsody, Sam. They've offered five-million dollars for the patent. I've accepted." "That's great news for the company, Dan." "It's also great news for you." "How so?" "I know that your employment contract specifies that any discovery you make becomes the exclusive property of the company. But I think a sizeable bonus is in order. How does fifty-thousand dollars sound to you?" "Thanks, Dan. That's very generous of you." Murphy wondered what Garrett had done with that batch of rhapsody he'd given him. He knew that whatever it was, he'd been extremely pleased with the results. "So tell me, Sam, how's your wife's idiot cousin doing?" "Alec? He just bought a satellite dish to watch Australian rugby tournaments. It's incredible. One simple suggestion and now he's a major league sports freak." Murphy hoped that Garrett would reciprocate and reveal how he'd used the drug. "Interesting." Dan was in no small way unfamiliar with the powerful effects of rhapsody, but he still found the addendum amusing. "One more thing, Sam. I'd like another batch of the drug before I consummate the deal to transfer the patent rights." "Sure. Why don't you come down to the lab before you go home tonight?" "Okay. I'll see you later." "I want to thank you again, Dan." Murphy got up to leave. His disappointment at Garrett's failure to disclose how he'd used the drug was easily overshadowed by his newly stuffed pockets. Dan watched as the door swung closed. He thought that Murphy had appeared very pleased with himself over the bonus. Dan wondered whether he would have been any less triumphant had he known that the government had actually offered twenty-five million dollars for the rights to the patent. *** Rhonda sat at the vanity and studied her reflection in approval. The cosmetic surgery she'd had four months earlier had really paid off. She fancied her new pert nose with the slight ski-slope contour. And her newly-rounded countenance ending in the pointed chin was very much to her liking, too. She shifted her gaze to her long smooth neck. During her four-day-stay at TGI for facial cosmetic surgery, she'd also had a tracheal shave to remove her modest Adam's apple. She looked down at her chest and saw a good amount of cleavage. She reached behind her back and unclasped the cotton brassiere. She raised her hands and cupped her breasts from underneath. She felt their considerable weight. She was careful to avoid poking them with her long nails. She thought back to her session with Dr. Blau two weeks earlier. He'd been very impressed with the results of her hormonal therapy. He said he'd never seen breast growth of such magnitude before. "Most male-to- female reassignment patients request implants, Rhonda. Their breasts fail to grow beyond an A-cup. You're an exception to the rule. I believe you'll attain a B-cup just from taking hormones," he'd noted. Dr. Blau also was pleased with her psychological adjustment. "You're doing as well as can be expected. You've completely embraced your new gender. You're functioning very well at home and on the job. I'm happy for you," he'd said. She put the bra back on and picked up a tube of pink lipstick. She removed the cap and carefully coated her lips with it. Pink had become her favorite color. She liked the way it blended with her golden blond hair, which now fell past her shoulders and several inches onto her back. She studied her reflection and thought that everything was coming together quite nicely. She'd finished the electrolysis treatments the previous month and her face was now devoid of hair. She hadn't had much facial hair to begin with, but what little she'd had was now all gone. She reached for the gold-hooped earrings and fastened them to her lobes. On impulse, she'd had her ears pierced at the mall a few weeks earlier. She'd come to enjoy the slight tugging sensation on her earlobes from wearing earrings. She gazed down at her crotch. She saw the slight bulge under the panties. It was the last vestige of her prior life. The hormones had by now rendered her genitals sexually useless. Her testicles had atrophied and, according to Dr. Blau, ceased producing testosterone. She couldn't have attained an erection if her life had depended on it. But that didn't bother her. What did annoy her was the unfortunate fact that she still had a penis and testicles at all. She truly looked forward to the day when she'd get her new genitals. Ones that matched her feminine appearance. She frowned at the thought that she still had another four months to go before she'd have sexual reassignment surgery. She wondered whether she could endure the wait. She turned her thoughts to Dan. They'd developed a fine relationship. They enjoyed each other's company and conversation. They ate dinner together every night. She enjoyed cooking for him and she absolutely glowed when he complimented her on a meal. They'd been going out together, too. On weekends, he took her to nice restaurants and to the movies. They'd even gone dancing once. Dan had acted as if he were proud to have her hanging off his arm. That had made her ebullient. The physical aspect of their relationship had evolved rather nicely as well. They'd met under the covers in either of their bedrooms a few times a week for the past several months. Dan clearly enjoyed touching her supple body and being touched by her soft hands. He'd grown particularly fond of her budding breasts. He favored oral sex and she hadn't been bashful about obliging him. If there was one thing missing from their bedroom exploits, it was the regrettable fact that she didn't have a vagina. She craved one badly. She feared that without one, Dan might unfavorably compare her to his deceased wife. She knew she'd have one in a few short months, but the time couldn't pass quickly enough for her comfort. She hoped that Dan had fallen in love with her. She knew that she had with him. But she didn't want to be the first one to say it. She'd be devastated were she to express her true feelings and not receive a like response. She shifted gears and thought of her work life. Everything was going fine on that front, too. She enjoyed being a secretary. Contrary to the complaints lodged by many secretaries, she hadn't found the work mundane or demeaning. Mr. Buckman, her boss, was a very nice man. He treated her fairly and with respect. He was the only one there who knew she was transgendered. She was grateful he'd been discreet about the matter. She liked most of her co-workers, too. She mingled with a few of the girls on her breaks and she lunched with them once or twice a week. She'd thus far declined their offers to join them for drinks after work. She hadn't believed she was ready to make girlfriends just quite yet. She'd noticed that nearly all of the men at work had been eyeing her. One of the salesmen had already asked her out. Naturally, she'd politely declined. When she'd casually mentioned it to Dan, he became annoyed. "What exactly did you say?" he'd asked. "I told him I already had a boyfriend." She'd seen that Dan was perplexed and rolled her eyes. "I meant you, silly." That had put him at ease. She'd taken a great deal of comfort from his jealous reaction. She put her cerebrations to rest and looked at her wristwatch. She saw that it was nearly 7:00. It was Saturday night and Dan was taking her out to dinner and a movie. A wave of excitement rippled down her spine. 'I better start thinking about what I'm going to wear.' It was a chore for her to make a selection. It took her fifteen minutes to settle on the blue silk dress and the matching open-toed strap-on sandals with three-inch heels. She also decided to go with fishnet stockings. As she enthusiastically dressed and put on her makeup, a sense of contentment cloaked her like a satin sheath. She giggled and thought of herself as the luckiest girl alive. *** The intercom buzzed, awakening Dan. He shook his head and looked at his wristwatch. He calculated he'd dozed off for about twenty minutes. He reached for the button. "Yes, Anita?" "Ms. Owens is here, Mr. Garrett." "You can send her in." He watched the door and a moment later he saw the petite, good-looking redhead enter his office. "Hi, Maggie." "Hello, Mr. Garrett. You wanted to see me?" "Yes. Call me Dan? Please have a seat." Maggie sat in the chair before his desk. She wondered what he wanted. She hoped he wasn't about to hit on her again. It had become tedious turning him down. "I'm having coffee. Won't you join me?" "Alright." "How do you like it?" "Black." He walked to the credenza in the rear of the room and poured two cups of coffee. He returned and handed her one. He sat back down behind his desk and discreetly studied her. She wore a sexy green silk dress that contrasted brilliantly with her long and curly bright red hair. Her sparse freckles and hazel eyes combined with her dainty facial features and diminutiveness to make her look like a living doll. "We have some money in this year's budget to hire a few people, Maggie. Do you need any additional hands in sales?" He took a sip of coffee and she did, too. "Well, we did lose Ron Stanton. I could use another salesperson." "Okay. I'll see what I can do." He watched as Maggie's expression turned flat. "Can you hear me, Maggie?" "Yeah." "Good. You realize you've made a big mistake in rejecting my advances. You actually find me quite attractive. In fact, I'm irresistible to you. You can't wait to get your hands on me. You're unable to control yourself. You want to make up for lost time. You also want my forgiveness. Isn't that right?" "Yeah." He stood up and walked to the door. He locked it and returned to his seat. He watched as she came back down to earth. "You