Alone In Paradise, Part 2 Of 2 free porn video

Alone in Paradise Part 2 of 2 By Cindi Johnson, May 2006. Part 38 ------- "SNAP!!" "SNAP!!" "SNAP!!" The pain seemed unending, each jolt hurting more than the previous one. Cold sweat formed on my forehead as tears streamed from my eyes. I laid belly-down on a medical examiner's table, naked save for pink panty girdle which Katrina had loaned to me. The panties were trimmed with white lace and had images of roses embroidered onto their front. "Very well, very well... now I'll start on your other leg. Are you OK, Patricia?" "Well," I replied weakly, "It does kinda hurt..." "Of course it hurts a bit, dear, but surely not that much," said Jeri, a 25 year old nursing student who worked here to earn money for schooling. "Don't be such a sissy. I mean... ah.., I'm sorry, Patricia. I didn't mean it that way." "SNAP!!" "SNAP!!" The pain seemed unbearable, but I didn't speak up. I didn't cry, although tears flowed from my eyes which, with my face pressed against the table, were hidden from Jeri. Odd as my situation seemed, I vowed to accept the pain like a man. I wanted, I desperately needed, to show the pretty nurse that I was male, to convince her that despite my appearance I was a tough man able to take pain with impunity. My mind visualized the situation: Jeri, a comely brunette wearing pale blue nursing scrubs, standing aside my nearly naked body, laying prone before her. Earlier she had used chalk to carefully draw lines over my entire body, and now, focusing upon one segment at time, she applied a probe against my clean shaven skin, firing, again and again, jets of near-fire into my body. "SNAP!!" "SNAP!!" "SNAP!!" This continued until the entire back of each leg had been treated. How many times had she fired her probe? Hundreds? Thousands? I had no idea. "OK, Patricia, now comes a tricky part. I'll need you to lower your panties a few inches so that I can treat your buns. Just do it without getting up. I don't want to see your, you know, your 'private parts'. Just slide them down carefully. That's a good girl." My hands, trembling from the ordeal, reached down and grasped the waistband of Katrina's panties. After a few moments of struggle I was able to get them down around my thighs. I felt deeply humiliated lying there. "SNAP!!" My fists clenched the sides of the examining table. "SNAP!!" "SNAP!!" "Please, Patricia, hold still! Otherwise I'll have to call in the doctor to hold you down." "No, please don't, ma'am. Please!" "Then stay still. You're lucky you don't have thick hair. Why, I've worked on a few real women with more body hair than you have. Now try to get your butt up higher, please." "Ha? How... what do you want me to do?" "You know, Patricia, up in the air! I need it to be higher and sticking out so that I can access the folds under your cheeks. C'mon. Pull your knees forward." I moved around a bit, still unsure of what Jeri wanted. "Please, Patricia!" Jeri said, exasperated. "Just pretend that you're offering your ass to a big, handsome guy. Surely you fantasize about that?" "No, I don't," I replied, miffed, although now I understood what position to assume. "SNAP!!" "SNAP!!" I was crying now - both from pain and humiliation- as Jeri slowly and methodically zapped every square inch of each of my ass. "SNAP!!" "SNAP!!" Part 39 ------- "Well, Thomas, we're half done. I've never treated an entire body - a male body at that - during one visit. You'll have to forgive me, I need to take fifteen minutes or so to review my schedule and to check with Doctor Adams. And to freshen up a bit. While I'm out, please pull your panties back up and turn over onto your back. If you also need to freshen up, the mens room is out in the hallway to the left." Jeri opened the door and began to exit, then stopped to add, "And, ah... the womens room is on the other side of the waiting room, if, well, you know, if that's where you are, well, more comfortable?" I looked up at Jeri, standing at the door, my eyes red from crying; she stood there, looking so pretty even though dressed in her drab, loose- fitting scrubs, gazing down at me with a somewhat unsure grin. I couldn't tell if she was smiling at my predicament or if her grin was there to mask a feeling of pity. "Yes, thank you," I replied, looking away so as to hide my shame. Jeri closed the door behind her. I stood up, wobbly, pulled Katrina's tight panty girdle up, then carefully tucked my penis down and under, not wanting to be embarrassed during the last half of my treatment. Exhausted, I laid down upon the examining table and closed my eyes. Only half-awake, my mind flitted over the events of the past couple of days. I recalled my discussion with Jan as I left home yesterday, how Jan implored me to accept, without protest, Katrina's assistance. That Jan had agreed with Katrina what was best for me. That I had no choice; not only was my future, maybe my very life, at stake, but also Jan's future and, without any doubt, our future as husband and wife. "Just go along with it, Patricia," Jan had said. "It's for the best. Believe me on this. If you love me, you'll do what I, or Katrina, or Josie, or any of us ask. Before you know it summer will be over and your sentence will be over, too." The next morning Katrina began her "shock therapy". I had been moved into her apartment, with Jan warning me never to return home - to our home - without first contacting her and getting her approval. My home was now off limits to me, even as I, the "I" of 20-plus years, effectively ceased to exist. Little did I suspect the term "shock therapy" was to be taken literally. Katrina chose my outfit and at 9:00 a.m. sharp she pulled into a medical clinic located in an older lower middle-class area of north Dallas. "Patricia, I've made an appointment for you here, for a laser treatment. To get your hair thinned out. Don't worry," she continued, noticing my surprised look, "it'll grow back in a few months." "But what if it doesn't? I can't lose my body hair, Katrina." "Well, you'll have to trust me. Now get in there. Your appointment is with Jeri." "But Katrina, can't you come in with me?" "No, I've other matters to attend to. Now get out. Call me when you finish. Go! Use your credit card to pay for the treatment. Go!!" Part 40 ------- The receptionist's brown eyes looked directly into my eyes, which Katrina had forced me to highlight with mascara and dark eyeliner. "May I help you, ma'am?" she asked. "I have an appointment with Jeri," I replied in the soft, feminine voice which Katrina had coached me on. "For a laser treatment." "Please sign in and provide your drivers license and credit card." "Thomas..." the receptionist drawled, staring at me. "So... you're Thomas?" "Yes, ma'am," I replied softly, turning red. A slight smile formed on the young lady's face as she asked me to have a seat and wait until I was called. Part 41 ------- The sound of the door closing interrupted my flashback. It was Jeri. She stared silently at me, now lying on my back, naked except for Katrina's panties. I looked at her with an expression of fright and apprehension. "Thomas," she said while marking my belly and chest with a red pen, "we'll leave you a nice triangle of pubic hair. Girls have that, you know." I could feel the cold tip of the pen drawing a line below my navel. Jeri pulled down the waist of my panties to gain better access. I felt utterly powerless. "Your nails are pretty, Thomas. You must have had them professionally done." "Yes, ma'am, I did." "Spread your legs a bit, dear," she said with a slight grin. I felt the tip of the laser touch my skin just below my navel. "SNAP!" I tensed in pain. "SNAP!" "SNAP!" Jeri was mute as she methodically attacked nearly every square inch of my body. Soon tears again flowed from my eyes. Part 42 ------- "Done. For today, that is," Jeri said as a final jolt of laser penetrated my upper lip. "Now please dress while I turn the laser machine off and prepare your invoice." Jeri's voice was firm and commanding. It held no hint of compassion for the pain I had just suffered. Slowly I rose from the examining table. I felt foolish, of course, alone in this small room with this pretty girl. I waited, hoping Jeri would leave and provide me a bit of privacy. "Please hurry," she said, noticing me standing shyly. Sore everywhere, I took my bra from the desk where I had lain my clothing. I turned away from Jeri, then struggled to don it. Once on, I put silicon inserts into the bra's cups. By now, after days of wear, the slight heaviness on my chest felt almost comforting. Next I took my white slip and, with Jeri watching, draped it over my head; it hung nicely upon my feminized body. It took several minutes to get into my pantyhose as my legs were so raw! Finally I put on the navy blue shift which Katrina had selected for me this morning. Jeri's gaze shifted between her paperwork and me. I sat upon the corner of the examination table to put on my shoes; they were cute shoes, blue to match my dress, open toed, with heels about an inch and a half in height. They reminded me of a pair that Jan owned; I had always admired the shape of her feet and her legs when she wore pretty heels. Now, I realized, my feet had a similar girlish allure. I glanced at Jeri's feet; she wore simple white canvas shoes with white cotton socks. "Thomas," Jeri said in a matter-of-fact voice, as if there were nothing unusual about all of this, "take this paperwork to the front desk. The receptionist will issue you a receipt and schedule your next appointment." "Yes, ma'am... thank you..." I mumbled. I took the papers and was about to leave the room when Jeri spoke again. "Wait! Wait a second, Thomas," Jeri suddenly said in an unusually warm voice, as if she had briefly stepped outside her role of stern nurse. I turned to face her; Jeri's pretty deep blue eyes looked at me with concern. "Your mascara, Thomas. It's smudged. You just cry too much, dear. More than any girl I've ever treated." She took a tissue and carefully wiped mascara and eyeliner from my cheeks. "Being a girl isn't always easy, Thomas, and it isn't always fun. Not even for real girls." "Thank you, ma'am. Thank you," I replied sincerely as she gently touched my shoulder. Part 43 ------- After handing the paperwork to the receptionist I again took a seat in the waiting room. Nearly noon, the room was filled now, almost entirely with young Hispanic mothers, their young children in tow. None were wealthy; it was obvious that this clinic served mostly patients covered by Medicare or other government welfare programs. Most of the women wore simple skirt-blouse outfits; some wore simple housedresses. None wore pants, nor were any wearing high heels or pantyhose. However, all did wear earrings and most had painted fingernails and toenails. Dressed as I was, a white "woman" in fashionable clothing, I'd have felt out of place in this room even if I were female. As a male, well, you can imagine... I took one of the few empty seats. At my right was a pretty chicana, about 5'3", with large gold hoop earrings. Her young son was on the floor, at her feet, playing with a toy firetruck. At my left sat a dark- skinned young girl, maybe ten years old; wearing a faded school uniform, she nervously fidgeted and repeatedly smoothed her skirt. There was not one man in the room, save for me. Suddenly I was flushed with an odd feeling of being less than a man. Less than male. I timidly gazed around the room. These young women, all of them, were real females. Real women, with real breasts and vaginas. Women who used their fertile young bodies for God's purpose: to breed. I glanced down at my crotch, which was covered by the skirt of my blue dress: I could no longer feel, or even visualize, my penis, my manhood! Instead, I swear I could actually feel a vagina - yes. A vagina! A cold sweat wracked my body; surely the pain of my laser treatment had disoriented me. Surely that was my problem. Time seemed to slow to a frozen stillness. I was engulfed by some mystic female essence. I could feel it, I could smell it. I imagined all of us - naked: all of the young, firm smooth bodies, the full breasts, the dark pubic hair hiding ultimate mysteries! And me, naked like them, with smooth white skin and painted nails, but with my small, useless male-less penis hanging limply. "Margarita Gonzalez." The name was announced loudly over the loudspeaker so as to be heard above the noise of a dozen or so children's voices. I saw a young lady rise, grasp her little girl's hand, then exit through the door leading to the examination rooms. "Maria Sanchez." Again a young lady rose and accompanied her frightened child out of the waiting room. But for each name called, it seemed two more women arrived. The room was now too full; a short pregnant girl who looked to be just a child herself stood quietly near me, leaning against a wall, unable to find a seat. "Thomas Johanson." The words echoed through the room, surprising me with the realization of who I was. Everyone in the room had heard my name, my male name. Trembling, I had just begun to rise from my chair when again the loudspeaker announced: "Thomas Johanson, please come to the cashier's window." "Yes," I said after reaching the cashier. "You are Thomas Johanson?" she asked loudly enough so that everyone nearby could hear. "Yes. Yes I am." "Here's your bill. May I have your credit card, ...sir?" My credit card? I suddenly realized I'd forgotten my purse somewhere. My face flushed. "But... but I don't have my wallet... I think I left it in the examining room! I was with Jeri, with the laser..." An awkward silence followed. "Yes... well..." the cashier turned to a young lady beside her, "Joanna, would you check the laser room to see if this... man's... wallet is there. Please?" "Oooooohhh Kaaaa...." Joanna replied as she looked me over. "What does it look like?" "Well... it's not really a wallet," I replied sheepishly. "It's a, you know, a... purse. A blue purse... with a long strap." "Si, Yo comprendo," the young latina said to me, "you left your pretty blue purse in the examining room. I'll see if it's there. Please take your seat." Flushed, I returned to my seat and sat down. Now many of the young ladies were stealing glances at me and several were conversing in Spanish, presumably about me. Within a few minutes Joanna, wearing a white uniform, approached carrying my purse. "Your purse was still there, Mr. Johanson," she said with a grin. "Lucky for you it wasn't stolen! You know, sir, a girl should never let her purse out of her sight!" "That's right," exclaimed a little girl who was seated across from me as she jumped out of her chair to join in, "my mommy taught me that! 'Don't forget your purse, mi nina', that's what my mommy says. Isn't that right, mommy?" The girl, totally unaware of the awkwardness of my situation, took her little red purse from her mother's lap and showed it to Joanna and I. "See, this is my purse! And there's red lipstick in it!" She took the tube of lipstick from her purse and handed it to Joanna. "My, that's very nice," Joanna said to the skinny, barefoot girl dressed in a simple green jumper. Her tiny toenails and fingernails were bright red, and her long black hair was tied in a ponytail. The little girl looked at me innocently and asked "when you were little, did your mommy tell you to always take your purse with you?" Joanna laughed and addressed the girl, "No, nina, I suspect that Mr. Johanson didn't learn such things from his mommy." "Now hush, mi nina!" said the girl's mother, "Sit down and leave the lady alone!" Wearing a simple jean skirt and yellow tee shirt, she appeared to be embarrassed by the anglo "lady" sitting across from her. "Yes, mama," the girl said happily as she snuggled onto her mother's lap. Part 44 ------- "You must understand, Patricia, I will be harsh when necessary. But it's for your own good. And for my friend, Jan's. I don't want to see her hurt, nor you. And from what Josie told me, if you don't behave and cooperate fully, there will be serious consequences both to you and to Jan." I felt Katrina's gentle hands massage my lower legs. She rubbed me with a lotion Jeri had prescribed to help me heal from the laser treatment. I was naked, laying face down, on the bed which was now mine. The room, which was down the hall from Katrina's own bedroom, was painted a pale pink; the frilly bedcover had been pulled aside. A vase holding freshly cut flowers sat upon my dresser, filling the room with a pleasant fragrance. "But Katrina, why? What did I do that was so wrong?" "Don't ask me," she replied, "I'm a girl. I never did understand men." "It's just not right! It's not fair. It's surely not legal, is it? I shouldn't be putting up with this," I said sternly. "But you are, Patricia. And you will, because you don't want Jan hurt. Do you?" "No, Katrina. No I don't," I said with an air of resignation. She was now rubbing the lotion onto my buttocks. It felt very pleasurable. "It's your fault, Patricia. According to Josie, those guys live by a code. And they often die by that code. A guy fights back when attacked. He puts his life on the line to protect his team. Rather like a gang, I suppose. But you didn't do that, did you? At the moment of crisis, you hid in the ladies room. Gosh, Patricia!" "Yea... but..." I attempted to respond, but couldn't. "Hey, girl, like I said, it's a male thing. I can't understand it because I'm female. To me, hiding in the ladies room when guys start shooting is a smart move. And you can't understand it either, that male 'code of honor' thing - after all, that is why you're here, isn't it?" Clearly tiring of my protests, Katrina's tone had become harsh. Katrina had me turn over onto my back, then continued her task, beginning with my arms, skinny and now wholly hairless, then moving to my bare chest. Before long she was massaging the insides of my thighs. When Jeri had treated this area the tight panty girdle had hid my genitals. (Also, Jeri had me cup my hands over my crotch, saying "Modesty is much admired in girls, Thomas.") Katrina was not as discreet. Soon her ministrations caused my prick to harden. It stood straight up; I was both embarrassed and excited. "Jeri did a great job, didn't she, Patricia? Your body looks so... feminine. I don't feel any stubble when I rub you. Oh, and I really like that she left a nice triangle of pubic hair. It's so... so female! Don't you think?" "Katrina, please!" I protested. "I'm not feminine." "Yes you are, so get used to it, GIRL!" Katrina snapped. I said nothing as she continued her strange, twisted, massaging of my naked body, all the while ignoring my erection as if it were too insignificant to comment upon. "Don't ever forget," she continued after a pause, "I'm the boss. You, Patricia, are merely a slave. Submit, and you -and Jan- will be fine. But if you attempt to resist me, well, Eduardo is just a phone call away. But hell, I can kick your pansy ass on my own, even without him. Now shut up while I finish." Although it was only mid-afternoon, I was exhausted from the laser treatment: the anxiety, the humiliation, the physical pain. Soon the calming effect of Katrina's gentle massage seduced me into a deep sleep. Part 45 ------- First I became aware of a fine scent of feminine body lotions, and then of soft voices coming from Katrina's living room. The lights were off, yet the fading rays of the sun penetrating the lace curtains of my room suffused the room with a dim light. I tried to turn onto my side, seeking a more comfortable position, but couldn't. This realization of being trapped jarred me awake. My hands and legs were bound to the four bedposts with a pink lacy material which, although appearing as flimsy as a girl's garter belt, proved to be unbreakable. I couldn't move more than a few inches. I was lying naked on my back, just as when I'd fallen asleep. I struggled, fruitlessly, to either break my bonds or slip free from them, finally giving up. What the hell was Katrina up to now, I wondered. Not wanting to call attention to myself in this demeaning position, I remained quiet and pondered my situation. On the wall were two large pictures which had been hung there while I slept; each was a large photograph, maybe two feet wide by three feet high. One was a photo of a tall, very muscular man, naked, in a body- builder's pose, his large unerect penis hanging down maybe seven inches, clearly visible. The other photo was also of a naked male; while nearly as muscular as the other, this man had a darker complexion. Unlike the other man, this male's enormous cock was fully erect and his right hand appeared to beckon the observer to come closer. The second photo was particularly suggestive. Each of these photos were hung high such that, in my bound position, I could not avoid staring at them. Part 46 ------- After what seemed an hour or two, Katrina entered, followed by two women. She switched on the bright ceiling light, temporarily blinding me. When my eyes adjusted I recognized Sandy, Jan's best friend. The other woman, whom I did not recognize, was, like Katrina, tall, thin, and blond. Very cute, she wore a low-cut pale green blouse and a short tan skirt. Although I was unable to see her feet, judging by her height I assumed she wore high heels. "Katrina, what in hell is going on?" I asked, more in a questioning tone than a demanding tone. "Hi, Patricia," Katrina said as she sat beside me on the bed. She reached over and grabbed my balls, then began to squeeze. A terrible pain wracked my loins. "I thought we had agreed that you would use your most feminine voice..." she paused for a few moments, then continued, "at all times!" She squeezed harder and I screamed from the pain. "Now, dear Patricia," Katrina continued, having let loose of me, "what were you saying?" I waited a few moments for my nerves to settle and then, using the feminine voice which Katrina had taught me, I asked meekly, "Katrina, why did you tie me up?" Under the bright lights the tears which streamed from my eyes were surely visible to the three women. "Now that is so much better, Patricia," Katrina said with a grin. "Remember, a girl doesn't want to just look pretty; she also wants to sound sweet and sexy! "So, you ask, why are you tied up? It's for your own good, of course. It's very important that the lotion I applied to you is not rubbed off for awhile. Plus we won't need to worry about you scratching your laser sores. "Patricia, of course you know Sandy." "Hi, Patricia," Sandy said in a rather stunned voice. "And allow me to introduce Julia," Katrina continued. "Hello, Patricia," the tall blond said with a giggle. I was initially silent, but upon noticing Katrina's stern look I responded, weakly, "Hello, Sandy; Hello Julia," again using a feminine falsetto. Julia smiled broadly. "So, girls," Katrina continued, "what do you think of Patricia's new look?" "Really sweet!" Julia replied. With her index finger she touched my chest, moved it slowly in circles around my nipples. "And so smooth! Jeri did a great job. Did you know, Patricia, that Jeri is my cousin? I told Katie how easy laser hair removal is, and she just knew it was perfect for you!" Now her finger traced the edge of my "triangle" of pubic hair. "Well, let's get started." "Started? Started with what?" I asked apprehensively. "Titties, Patricia. Titties! Just for you." Julia proceeded to set a small bag and two white boxes on the bed beside me. "I've got perfect female breasts - of the silicone variety, that is. They'll glue onto you and stay on for a week at a time, maybe longer. Believe me, you'll love them!" "But please," I begged, looking towards Katrina, "I already have a pair. You know that, Katrina. I can use those, can't I? Please, Katrina!" In fear of Katrina's withering grip, I continued speaking in a feminine voice. "No, Patricia! Must I make it perfectly clear - again - that I make decisions here, not you?" I felt Katrina's hand grasp my groin. "OK! OK... I'm sorry, Katrina. Don't hurt me. Please! You're right, Katrina, you're right. But... at least allow me to sit up so that Julia can do it better. "Ahhhh!!! Pleeeaasss...!" I screamed as Katrina gripped my balls and squeezed again, this time even harder than before. "Don't you see, Patricia? We are doing what's best for you. All of us are. Aren't we, girls?" "Sure thing," Julia said with a laugh as she removed a silicone breast from its box. I looked towards Sandy, standing between the two blonds. She was shorter and heavier, but nonetheless very pretty with her dark hair and luscious, full red lips. "Yes...." Sandy said hesitantly, "I suppose so...." A concerned look crossed her face. What, I wondered, did she feel as she witnessed the humiliation of her best friend's husband. "Look, Patricia," Julia said, holding one of the breasts in front of me, "see the nice, large nipple. Oh, but won't you be sexy! And motherly!" It took her only a few minutes to cement the two female beasts onto my chest. I didn't resist; I just lay there, passively, my eyes closed and my mind nearly blank. "Now just a touch of makeup to better blend silicone with skin, and we'll be finished," Julia said as she spread a bit of a type of foundation along the edges of my new breasts. "OK, Patricia, now open your eyes, girl," Julia commanded. She held a mirror before me so that, even as I lay flat on my back, I could inspect my feminized chest. I was astonished to see the sight of female breasts protruding from my smooth chest. As I had always been skinny, my chest had never been at all masculine. Tears formed in my eyes and began to slowly run down my cheeks. "Patricia, dear, crying with joy, are you? Oh, by the way, dear, don't you simply love the nice photos I've hung on your walls," Katrina goaded. "Katrina, please," I spoke, softly, earnestly, "you know I'm not, you know... like that." "Au contraire, young lady, I know nothing of the sort! Didn't I see you sucking a cock - and a very large cock at that - just last night?" As Katrina spoke I felt Julia's hand massage my cock and balls, moving softly but surely; Julia had the practiced moves of a hooker. "See, girls, how Patricia gets all excited when the talk veers towards men, towards husky, muscular men, and sucking cock? Whoa! Our little girl's clit is throbbing, isn't it now? Whatever will we do with this naughty girl?" I struggled for a brief moment but, still unable to free myself, soon acquiesced to Julia's gentle ministrations. I noticed Sandy standing back against the wall watching silently and, it seemed, somberly. "Look at the picture, Patricia. See, that's a real man's erection - it's much different then this so-called penis that's between your legs, isn't it, girl? Yes indeed, Patricia darling, imagine you and that man together. Oh, what pleasure you would experience!" Katrina droned on and on, lucidly describing imagined sex acts as Julia caressed the underside of my cock with her finger, moving it lightning-fast. My face flushed; my body tensed. Katrina, now standing at the head of my bed, grasped the sides of my face in her hands so as to force my gaze onto the obscene photograph, and loudly commanded, "Patricia, look! A REAL MAN! Go ahead, Patricia, show us how much you desire him!" Well, no, I did not desire the man in the photograph, that gross, muscle bound male; I desired no man! But Julia's deft handling of my balls even as she stroked my cock had its inevitable consequence. Darkness seemed to envelop me as I closed my eyes to my unimaginable reality. I felt Julia release my genitals as Katrina released my head and, at that moment, I was wracked by a tremendous orgasm, one spurt followed by another, and another, and more, each of decreased intensity. A moan escaped from my lungs. The initial spurt landed upon my face; the second landed on my chest, between my artificial breasts. Within moments I could feel warm cum splattered over my face, chest, belly and groin; I could feel the cum dripping off of me and onto the bed sheet. Nobody spoke. When finally I opened my eyes I saw the three young women standing at the sides of my bed, staring at me. Katrina smiled as if she had just managed to accomplish something of importance. Julia also smiled. Sandy looked shocked, even embarrassed. Would she describe this to Jan? Would Sandy tell her husband and friends, most of whom I knew? "Nasty little girl! You've really made a mess now," Julia scolded. "You need a real vagina, Patricia. Vaginas are clean, not disgusting like your thing." "Let's go, girls," Katrina said. "Patricia probably needs a rest after that performance. Let's let her sleep and dream of her man." "But Katrina, please! Don't leave me here like this. At least let me clean myself up. Please!" "No way, honey; can't let you loose yet. Doctor's orders. But maybe Julia or Sandy will wipe you off." Katrina looked towards Julia. "No way! Don't think I'm gonna touch that stuff," Julia exclaimed. All eyes turned towards Sandy. She blushed as she responded softly, "Oh no. No. I'm married. I can't touch another man's semen. I can't...." "But Sandy," Katrina said, "Patricia's not really a man." Sandy looked at me, looked into my eyes. I lay there, bound and naked, my face made up like a hooker's, my nails painted bright red, my erection fading. Semen glistened upon my face and chest. "I'm sorry, Thomas.... Patricia.... I just can't... I won't... touch your body or...your...your semen," Sandy said, clearly distraught. "Katrina, NO! You can't leave me like this!" I yelled. "Oh, my, I was afraid of this, Patricia," Katrina said mockingly, "Julia, show our dear girl what else you have in your bag." I watched, astonished, as Julia took out a large dildo shaped like a man's erect member, and held it a couple of inches in front of my mouth. "Open up, Patricia," Julia said as I felt Katrina firmly grasp my balls and began to squeeze. I started to protest but Julia used the opportunity to plunge the rubber penis into my mouth. Within moments she had secured it firmly with a thin red strap. Gagged, I struggled to protest, efforts which caused Julia and Katrina to laugh aloud. Katrina turned off the overhead lights, leaving only one directional light focused upon the photograph of the man with the erection. "Bye, Patricia," Katrina said with a laugh as the women left the room, then added, "Now don't jerk off, girl!" Part 47 ------- "It's all a bit much. I don't know what to think, really. I never disliked Thomas, you see. He treated Jan well. It just doesn't seem right to treat him like this." "Oh, Sandy, please! Get with the program, will you? I'm doing this for his own good, and for Jan's. That Carlos guy is not to be shrugged off like a flea. By getting Thomas to accept his punishment, embrace it even, we are saving Jan's livelihood and, just maybe, Thomas' very life. Jan agrees with me, Sandy." Katrina paused to sip of her coffee. Julia had already left and Sandy would leave after finishing her drink. The two pretty women sat at the small breakfast table in Katrina's kitchen. A radio played classical music in the background. "But why is such, well, debasement, necessary? Why not just let him wear a dress and let it go at that?" "Because, Sandy, a man can't just put on a dress and - poof! - like magic - become a woman. No, Sandy, we must first destroy Thomas' manhood. Only then will Patricia's latent femininity come to fore. You know, it's like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon." "Well, Katrina, since Jan thinks it best to put her husband through this, I won't second guess you two. It does seem, though, that you enjoy punishing Thomas." "Yes," Katrina said with a laugh, "I guess in a way I do. I sometimes imagine doing this to my ex, transforming him into an effeminate dickless wonder. Force him to swallow a man's cum, just like he made me swallow his whenever I was on my period. Yes, that would be heaven! But for now, I'll just have to settle for Thomas." Part 48 ------- I awoke, shivering with cold. The sun had set. The room was dark except for the one light which Katrina had left on. The illuminated image stared at me: the muscular man with the enormous prick standing, beckoning to me. I knew my manhood was not as large as his... hell, it wasn't even close! Maybe Katrina was right: maybe I was something less than a man. I could see my female breasts, protruding from my chest, gently rise and fall with each breath. I could not call out for help as the thick dildo was inserted firmly into my mouth. I screamed but made only grumbling noises, and soon gave up. All was eerily quiet, the apartment empty except for me. Suffering great pain, I finally conceded to nature's call. First I felt the flow of warm liquid spread between my legs and form a puddle under my ass; then, with difficulty, I strained to eject the contents of my bowels. When finished, I just lay there, soiled but relieved, staring at the "real man" in the photograph. How, I wondered, had things come to this? And why? Part 49 ------- Having lost track of time, all I knew was that there was daylight outside. I'd slept poorly during the night; each time I awoke my eyes opened to the picture of the muscular male and his everlasting erection. My body ached from being motionless for so long. I was thirsty and hungry and sick from the stench which now filled the room. I heard the door open; I turned my head to see Jan standing in the doorway. As always, she was stunningly beautiful. Dressed for work, Jan wore a finely-tailored rose colored suit, its skirt falling just below her knees. Her matching purse hung from her left shoulder. She stood silently, momentarily shocked to see her husband in such a degrading position. Overcome by the weight of my debasement before my lovely wife, tears began to flow from my eyes. I tried to speak, but couldn't, as the rubber penis filled my mouth. "It's OK. Patricia, it's all OK. Don't cry, my dear, don't cry." Her hand gently stroked my cheeks and forehead. "You had to experience this. Your trials will make you a stronger woman. It was necessary: for you, and for me. For us." Jan's eyes were wet with tears. She took a small scissor from her purse and snipped my four bindings. Although free, I was too stiff to move. After putting rubber gloves on her hands, she gently removed the dildo and set it on my crotch, where it lay, looking so much larger than my natural cock. Next my wife took a hypodermic needle from her purse and, as she filled it with a clear liquid, said softly, "This will make you feel better, Patricia. I'll come by every couple of days and give you a booster. You have pills, too. After a couple of weeks you'll need only take the pills. Katrina will help." "Why...?" I asked, still crying. "To calm you, my dear. To make you more comfortable during this...punishment period. The medicine will ease your transition, believe me. Now I must go, my dear, or I'll be late for work. Katrina's working, so you're here alone. Clean yourself up, then clean the room. Wash the sheets and towels at the laundrymat - it's just up Marsh Lane about two blocks. And get some rest. Josie says you'll have to go to work soon, maybe this week." Then Jan - my angel, my savior - leaned over and kissed my parched lips, paused to stare incredulously at the photographs hanging on the wall, then left. Part 50 ------- All the employees had gathered into the conference room, except Eduardo, who was out of town. "Tomorrow, Thomas will be back at work," Josie said to her two dozen coworkers, "only he is no longer Thomas. Thomas is now Patricia. Patricia will dress and act as a female. And please, all of you, treat Patricia just as you would any other woman." Sheri, a young clerk, spoke up after some moments of confused silence. "But Josie, isn't Thomas married? How can he just, you know, change into one of us?" "Patricia's wife, Jan, is OK with it," Josie replied. "But Sheri, we must not pry into their life and their issues. Patricia and Jan are working through this as best they can." The females in the room appeared very interested, their eyes wide opened, while the males, to a man, appeared embarrassed by the discussion. Most stared at the floor. "Issue? An issue is something like having a boyfriend with wandering eyes," Emily interjected. "Or a girl eating a pint of chocolate ice cream before bed. But a husband dressing as a woman - well, that's one heck of an issue! My god! So, where is our "Patricia" gonna pee? With the guys or with us girls?" "With the rest of us ladies, of course," Josie replied. "As I said, we must all treat her as a typical woman. C'mon everyone, let's all try to make Patricia feel comfortable here. OK?" After a pause everyone murmured agreement, mostly without enthusiasm. Although Josie was merely a very young intern, everyone in the office knew that she was Carlos' niece and as such her meek request was in fact an order of the highest magnitude. Part 51 ------- After exiting my car I smoothed my pale-green skirt and began walking towards the office building. It was located several miles north of downtown Dallas, with my employer occupying the 5th floor of the six story building. I had nervously checked my makeup before leaving the car and determined it was all OK except for my red lipstick, which I touched up using the rear-view mirror. Customers seated in the patio of the Starbucks coffee shop across the street didn't seem to notice anything odd with the "woman" entering the building. I felt that I looked OK as a woman, for which I was actually thankful to Katrina. She had woken early in order to assist me. After my shower Katrina, wearing only a pink bra and matching bikini panties, carefully inspected my entire body, using a razor to smooth any areas I had missed. ("Oh, what cute little buns you have, Patricia," she joked when, having forced me to bend forward to touch my toes, she removed male- hairs from my ass.) Katrina also selected my outfit, choosing a modest working-girl attire. "Wearing this, you'll fit in well with the younger girls at the office, the secretaries and such. Yes, Patricia, that's what you must do now: be a girl, 100% girl," she said as she clasped my bra onto me. "Just remember: use the little girl's room. Should you enter the mens room looking like this, you'll likely be raped!" My heels clicked loudly against the concrete. Yes, today I felt an odd sense of affection for Katrina, even an attraction to her. But why? She had tortured me, after all. But no, I couldn't deny it, my feelings for her. Maybe being so close to her, to her feminine beauty, had captured my male heart. Or perhaps, suffering from the Stockholm Syndrome, I'd fallen in love with my captor? I don't know. As I left for work she had given me a final inspection, then said, "My, Patricia, you do look great!", after which she kissed my lips. Although it was a mere peck, it sent a shiver through me. "Thank you, Mistress," I responded (Katrina now required me to address her as Mistress, saying it more accurately captured the essence of our relationship.) My face flushed and hands trembling, I entered the office. Sheri was sitting at the front desk reading People magazine. Sheri was a young girl, barely out of high school, with sandy hair and a great figure. Before today I had noticed her mainly because of her penchant for wearing short skirts and low-cut blouses. A clerk, she usually sat in for Emily, the receptionist, when Emily was absent or on break. Sheri stared at me for a couple of moments before recognizing me, then said matter-of-factly, "Oh, good morning, Patricia. How are you today?" "Ahh... I'm OK, I suppose..." I replied, surprised that Sheri knew my female name and that she was so nonchalant about my new appearance. "My, Patricia, that's a pretty skirt," Sheri added, then returned to reading her magazine. I swiftly walked to my cubicle and sat down, trembling yet grateful that the cubicle's dividers were high enough to hide me from others' eyes. I noticed that someone - Josie, I presumed - had set a bouquet of roses upon my desk. Part 52 ------- "Lunchtime, Patricia; grab your purse and join us!" I looked up to see Josie, Sheri, and Emily standing at the entrance to my cubicle. Like Josie and Sheri, Emily was also young. A latina with dark skin and eyes and long, jet black hair, she wore a blue denim jumper. The attribute which made Emily more than simply pretty, but in fact very alluring, was how her full red lips cured up at the tips ever so slightly. "Josie! Hi..." I replied, surprised. "Ahh... I've a lot of work to catch up on. I better skip lunch today," I replied meekly. The three young ladies stared down at me; nervously I crossed my legs in feminine fashion, as my skirt was too short to cover my knees or much of my thighs. "No way, girl," Josie said, "you need a break! Now come along." Having no apparent choice in the matter, I slung my purse strap over my shoulder and followed the girls. All eyes were on me as we negotiated our way through the office to reach the elevator. Part 53 ------- We sat at a table in the fast food restaurant. Josie and I had ordered salads with water, while Sheri and Emily ate hamburgers, fries and drank soda. Despite Josie's repeated attempts to draw me into the girls' conversation, I remained quiet. The subject of their discussion eventually veered to my "first day at work". "Did you know, Patricia," Emily said with a cute giggle, "this morning Paco asked me about you." "How's that?" Josie asked. "Well, Paco happened to see Patricia walking into the ladies room this morning. He asked me who the 'hot new chick' was." "Hot new chick," Sheri said. "Wow, Patricia, Paco's got your number, girl!" "Please..." I said, blushing. "What else did he say?" Josie asked. "Oh, he commented on Patricia's legs. He said he really likes tall, thin anglo girls. Well, at that I slapped him," Emily said with a laugh, then turned to me and added, "But I didn't mention to him that you used to be... ahh... Thomas." "So," Josie asked me, "are you interested?" "No, Josie! Of course not. Gosh, you know I'm married." "Well," Josie continued thoughtfully, "I do know that Thomas is married. But I don't know about Patricia." "You know," Emily continued, "Paco's had a hard time of it lately. His wife just up and left him a couple of months ago. Moved to Venezuela with some guy. And since she wasn't here legally, it may be really difficult for her to get back into the country, if she even wanted to. But from what I hear, she doesn't want anything to do with America, or Paco, or even her daughter." "What made her leave?" asked Josie. "Who knows? Amor, I suppose. Anyway, Paco must now care for his young daughter all by himself, as he has no close family here. She's only three years old, a really cute girl. Paco tries -he does - but, well, he's a male. We all know that men can't be mothers." Emily laughed again. With her giggles, and the most enchanting curve of her lips, she was very alluring. "I don't know about that," said Josie. "Look at Patricia." She reached over and gently touched my arm. "So true," Sheri added. "What do you think, Patricia? Could you be a good mother?" I stared down at my half-eaten salad as I replied. "No, probably not. As you can tell, I'm no good at being a woman. I can't walk like you all do, nor talk like you do, nothing.... it's all really difficult." "Not true," Josie responded. "You are very feminine, Patricia. Moreso each day. Before long, you'll be as sexy as I am." "No, Josie, no..." I said softly. "Yes, Patricia, yes!" the three young women chimed in unison. I blushed uneasily. The conversation then shifted to Emily and her boyfriend, Jason. They had split up after a recent argument but last night got together again. I listened to their discussion as I finished eating, but finally asked the question which, to my male brain at least, seemed obvious. "Emily, you say Jason ignores you, drinks too much, and generally treats you badly. Yet you are so beautiful! Why? I mean, why did you let him into your apartment last night? Why did you take him back?" The girls looked at me with surprise, as if I'd just asked why the sun rises each morning. As if I just didn't understand what, to them, was perfectly obvious. Emily collected her thoughts; a brief smile touched her red lips and, before responding, she gently brushed a strand of her soft black hair from her forehead. "Patricia, you just don't understand, do you? Jason is... well... he is my man. My man! Of course I'll take him back. I'm a woman, after all. A real woman, she expects her man to treat her badly. A real man always treats his girl badly. "My man, he... well... he makes me whole. He completes me. Without my man, yes, I would still be beautiful - God made me beautiful, that's true, and each day I thank the Virgin in my prayers - but I would be beautiful like a porcelain figurine is beautiful. Beautiful, but not alive. Just a pretty object." "But Emily," I countered, "why don't you find a man who treats you nice all of the time, not just when he wants to get into your pants?" "You mean a man like you used to be when you were Thomas?" Emily's face was serious, her voice measured. "I don't mean to hurt you, Patricia, but - I don't know, maybe it's just the Mexican culture, I don't know - but Patricia, I wouldn't want a man who's always nice to me. Females are nice, not males. Nice men are not, well, they're just not macho. A good man - like you - would fit nicely into my panties, into my bra. Maybe not literally, but you know what I mean, don't you? A nice man is just too feminine. It's OK for you to be feminine, Patricia; I like you in that cute blouse. But, Patricia, your prick - any nice man's prick - just would not feel right penetrating me. It wouldn't... well, it just wouldn't fit. It would feel like lesbian sex.... Tu comprendas?" "Emily's right," Josie said. "Maybe with Jan it was different; Jan's not chicana. But then, if you were less nice... if Thomas were a bit mean, that is, well... you probably wouldn't be Patricia today. You'd still be Thomas. And Jan would still be your real wife, she'd lie in your bed at night, happy to be next to you." After a long silence, I asked Emily in a hushed tone, "So, tell me, before... before I... changed... what did you think of Thomas? Was he a man? To your eyes, Emily, was Thomas a real man?" "Patricia... please don't take this wrong, OK? But no, I didn't ever think that Thomas was a man. I mean, he wasn't much of a man. Not a real man. Thomas was much too nice. Too feminine. Thomas was never a guy I'd have called sexy. Surely not macho." "Oh... I didn't know..." I stammered, dumbfounded. "It's OK, Patricia. It is! Don't get all sad eyed on us now. You asked me to be honest with you, so I was. Look... maybe not all males are meant to be men. God has His ways; it's not for us to understand. You are Patricia now, and you make a good looking girl. You should be grateful." "Yes... I suppose so," I said with an air of sadness. Wanting to relieve myself and eager to change the subject, I said, "Say, I should use the ladies room before we go back to work. Would one of you join me? I'm still a bit frightened of going in alone." "Afraid of the ladies room. What a woos!" Josie exclaimed as she grasped my hand. The girls laughed as the four of us went together into the ladies room to freshen up. Part 54 ------- Several weeks had passed since I last wore a stitch of male clothing, so I should have been used to it by now. The automatic acceptance of the new girl - me - at the office made it easier to fall into a feminine mode. Plus, the injections which Jan continued to administer somehow calmed me, somehow made this transition less cataclysmic. I asked Jan what the medicine was, but she was ever evasive. Nonetheless, I was trembling as Katrina pulled into the parking space and turned the engine off. "But Mistress Katrina, why do I have to go here? Please, Mistress, let me wait in the car." "Patricia, dear, I'm definitely not getting married. I just got rid of my last husband, the loser!" "But I'm not getting married either," I blurted. "Of course not, little girl, you already are married, aren't you?" "Yes, you know I am, mistress!" For weeks now, Katrina had been treating me like a child slave. When at the office, Josie, Sheri, Emily and everyone else treated me as a responsible woman, or at least as an odd young lady, but once I returned "home" at day's end, all that changed. Immediately upon entering Katrina's apartment I became a feminized male slave. Understandably, I began working longer hours and tended to stay late at the office. Of course, I always submitted to Katrina's demands, no matter how humiliating. What else could I do? Over time I became less uncomfortable posing as a woman, as it was only when in that role I was "normal". In my other role, as Katrina's she-male plaything, I was anything but normal. "Hi, Katie, how are you?" the clerk asked after we had entered the bridal shop. She and Katie hugged. "Oh, I'm just fine, Amy! I was so hoping that you'd be working today!" I stood about five feet away from the two young women, apprehensively awaiting whatever it was that Katrina was planning now. It had been more than a month since my transformation. If Josie kept her promise and convinced Carlos to drop my punishment, I would have only a month or two more before I again became Thomas. I'd again be a man, a real 100% man, and I'd take my wife away from Dallas, far away! That, at least, was my plan. The bridal store was huge. Filling it were many mannequins dressed in beautiful white bridal dresses, and other mannequins dressed in colorful prom and bridesmaid dresses. Sections of the store were set aside for accessories galore, including purses, shoes, veils, gloves, etc. Bouquets of flowers adorned the store, a store clearly meant only for females. Amy appeared to be somewhat older than Katrina; nicely dressed in a blue skirt and lavender blouse, she carried herself well. Her every movement conveyed femininity, which was likely a requirement for working here. No dykes allowed, obviously. Amy's dark brown hair framed her roundish face. Her eyes were hazel. Following a bit of small talk, Kristina turned to me. "Amy, this is Patricia. I've been asked by a friend to help Patricia find her most female self. And since all young women fantasize about wearing the perfect gown on their wedding day, I was thinking that maybe you could help Patricia experience, in a way, the wedding she hasn't experienced, not yet at least." Amy looked confused and shook her head slightly to indicate that she didn't understand what Katrina was trying to say. "It's like this, Amy," Katrina continued, "Patricia is a she-male. You know, a guy that wants to be pretty - like we are!" "Oh... I see... Patricia's not a woman," Amy said, staring at me. I blushed. "Patricia is a man who wants to wear a wedding dress. Is that it?" Katrina smiled. "Well, Patricia's a male, but I don't know if I'd call her a man! But yes, Amy, Patricia very much desires to wear a beautiful wedding dress, isn't that right, young lady?" Katrina gave me a stern look. "Ah... yes... sure..," I replied as Amy watched me closely. "You do understand, Patricia, no returns are allowed. And you must pay in advance. Absolutely no refunds are allowed to any women. Or men." "Yes," I replied, "I understand, ma'am. It will be my dress... to keep." "How sweet!" chimed Katrina, "Patricia will own her very own wedding gown!" "So," Amy asked, "are you planning to get married? Is a wedding in your plans?" "No..." I began to reply before Katrina interrupted. "We're working on that, Amy! So let's get busy!" Part 55 -------- Seated at a makeup table, I numbly gazed upon my reflection in the large mirror: upon my face, perfectly made, heavy with mascara and eyeliner; upon my lips, ruby-red; upon the gold earrings, inlaid with diamonds, dangling from my pierced ears. The girl in the mirror - me! - wore only a lacy white bra with matching padded panties. I could also see Josie's reflection as she carefully touched up my blusher. Josie cheerfully chatted on and on but I was simply too numb, too stunned, to comprehend her words. Instead my mind recalled Eduardo's statement to me (was it just two months ago, or was it an eternity?): "God gave me a prick - he expects me to use it. I gave you a gun - you didn't use it." Yes, I failed Eduardo and Jim. Rather than confront peril, I fled. And now, what price I must pay! And I failed God, too, for God had given me manhood, yet I chose to hide in the ladies room. "Oh, Patricia, you're simply beautiful! How I envy you on this, your most special day. Come now, young lady, stand up!" I stood as Josie helped me into a lacy white slip. It was unusually long, its hem falling to the middle of my calves. "I see not a speck of underarm hair. Good job, Patricia!" I heard the door open. In the mirror I watched Jan enter the room. She was stunning, every bit as beautiful as the day we married. She wore a rose colored gown, sleeveless to show her slender arms. The dress reached to within a couple of inches of the floor, although her open toed high heels were clearly visible. I felt cold, almost sick, as my wife approached. Because I was shoeless and Jan wore heels, she stood taller than me. "Hello, Patricia. Are you OK, honey? You're trembling." Jan sounded unusually compassionate. "No, Jan... no... I'm not up to this... not at all... I just can't..." "Enough!! We've already discussed this. It's a done deal, Patricia. It's best for you and for me. It's best for us." She gently kissed my cheek. "Come now, smile! This is a very big day for you." Together, Josie and Jan helped me into my dress. It was pure white, virginal white. Its bodice clung tightly to my artificial breasts, and it cinched my waist so tight that I could breath only shallowly. A layer of chiffon lace covered layers of a silky taffeta material which caused the skirt to billow out some inches. The hem of the dress was at my ankles. I held my breath and sucked in my stomach while Josie, standing behind me, raised the dress' lengthy zipper. Jan stepped back and stared silently at me, a look of approval upon her face, a look almost of conquest. What my dear wife thought at this moment, I couldn't begin to guess. "Stunning! Simply stunning," exclaimed Josie. "Now sit down, Patricia. Carefully! Don't wrinkle your wedding gown! Jan, could you help Patricia into her shoes while I find her veil?" "Sure thing, Josie," said Jan cheerfully as Josie left the room, leaving me alone with my wife. Feeling extremely awkward - and scared - I felt tears slowly trace a path down my cheeks. "Very pretty shoes, Patricia," Jan said as she strapped my left foot into a shoe. My wedding shoes were, of course, white, and had open toes with heels an inch and a half high. "You know, when we married, my gown wasn't as pretty as yours is today. I'm a tad jealous." "Oh, Jan, this is all so... just so surreal. It's like a dream, a nightmare. If only there were some other way, some other way out of this mess I've gotten us into." My tears continued to flow. "Well there's not," she replied. "Just go through with it, will you? And stop crying, for God's sake! Smile, even if you don't feel like it." "Well, I don't feel like it." "Get up now and practice walking. That'll help clear the butterflies from your stomach." "Jan," I said softly as I walked back and forth in front of my wife, taking small dainty steps, "what about tonight? What if... well... what if he... you know..." "Quit worrying," Jan said curtly. "Nothing will happen, except you'll at last be free of Katrina." "Yes, that is definitely a silver lining," I said, smiling. "See, girl," Jan laughed, "now you're looking good! Just hold that smile!" Part 56 -------- The chapel was a non-denominational rental place with adjacent ballroom. There were about 15 rows of benches, with an aisle running down the middle. Most benches were empty; other than the wedding party there were only about 40 guests, mostly people Paco and I worked with, together with their spouses and in a few instances their children, plus a few of Jan's friends. My heart was pounding! Never in my life had I felt so terrified. The recorded music began to play the strains of "here come the bride". On cue, Jan gently grasped my hand and together we began walking, very slowly, down the aisle towards the front of the chapel. Everyone in the church stood and nearly all turned towards me; they saw what appeared to be a somewhat tall young woman, slender, wearing a full, very beautiful wedding gown - white and lace everywhere! - escorted down the aisle by another beautiful young woman dressed nicely in a rose-colored bridesmaid dress. With Jan setting a slow pace, I carefully placed one foot in front of the other. No longer did I wobble when walking in high heels: Katrina, who had forced me to wear heels even to the laundrymat, cured me of that. No, I walked slowly, surely, even proudly. I would not cower in shame - No! Jan deserved better. I held my head high, although I was grateful that the veil somewhat hid my face from the curious crowd. Before leaving the dressing room I had studied my reflection in the full length mirror. My dress was beautiful. It showed off nicely my feminine figure - achieved largely via silicone breast and padded panties. Jan and I approached the front of the chapel - all eyes on us. Occasional camera flashes lit my dress brightest white. I consciously tried to feel my prick, if only to assure myself that yes, it did exist, and yes, I was a man. A man! But alas, I could feel nothing between my legs, nothing at all. Whatever manhood I possessed was wholly numb. Upon reaching the front, Jan leaned towards me and whispered into my ear, "You can do this, my dearest. You are a girl now, for today. Just remember that and you'll be fine." Jan then lifted my veil, very gently kissed my cheek, then let loose of my hand and stepped aside several feet to take her rightful place as my bridesmaid, standing next to Josie. Katrina was to Josie's right. The three, Jan, Josie and Katrina, all beautifully dressed in matching gowns, were truly visions of feminine beauty. I stood alone, dazed by what was happening: I, Thomas Johanson, born male, raised male, never questioning my sex - and why would I? Does one question his parents, his eye color, his skin color? Of course not. Things just are! But not so with sex, at least not so with me, Thomas Johanson, and my God-given sex. "And do you, Patricia...." Those words, addressed to me, snapped me back to "reality", my reality. "take this man, Paco, as your husband, to cherish and to serve, from now until death do you part?" I hesitated briefly and then, looking deeply into the preacher's eyes, replied softly, in barely a whisper, "I do". The preacher smiled. He was an old, gray haired man, unshaven for a day or two, and wore a black suit and cleric's collar, although he wasn't really a minister. He just owned the little chapel and adjacent ballroom and made a decent living from weddings and funerals. "Very well, then," he continued, "Paco and Patricia, I now pronounce you man... and wife. Paco, you may kiss your bride." I turned to my left, towards Paco. He wore a tuxedo. We stood about the same height although, had I not worn heels, he'd have been taller. Paco weighed about 160 pounds, compared to my 123 pounds at last measure. He had a huge grin on his face, which was for a Mexican was light-skinned and clear of blemishes. Paco lifted the veil covering my face, leaned towards me, and kissed me fully on my lips. Other than that one night with Leti, I had never kissed a man. Never really thought of it, surely never fantasized about it. Never. And Leti, to my mind at least, didn't count as a male, as she was more female than male. But here I was, standing before a gathering of friends and acquaintances - standing beside my wife! - kissing a man in the most public manner possible. I did not resist. In fact, I returned his affections; I kissed his lips! What else could I do? What? Part 57 -------- "Jan, I've been to quite a few weddings, including yours, but this is, well, definitely the oddest of the bunch," Sandy said. She sat at a table with Jan and Katrina; each had a small plate of finger foods and a glass of white wine. Sandy wore a beige dress, conservatively styled with half sleeves. "Weird is more like it. Really weird. Who'd have imagined I'd ever give my husband away in marriage - as a bride! I tell you, I'm still stunned." Jan picked at her food as she spoke, not willing to look anyone in the eyes, fearful of breaking down into tears. "But it went well, the ceremony," said Katrina. "Patricia looked fetching up there, a beautiful girl. And when Paco kissed her, well girls, I nearly cried." "Yes, Katie, you did a great job of transforming my husband into a pretty bride," Jan said with more than a trace of sarcasm. "But Jan, I did it for you!" Katrina protested. "I know, Katrina, I know. I'm not bitter. You know, in a way I feel rather proud, like a mother feels at her daughter's wedding." "So, Jan, what happens now? Will Thomas continue on as a... wife... to that man?" Sandy's voice hinted at her confusion. "Paco. Patricia's husband's name is Paco," Katrina said curtly. Jan drained the wine from her glass, then replied. "Beats me! I no linger know up from down!" "Well," Sandy asked, "are you still his... I mean Patricia's, wife?" Jan laughed bitterly. "No, I really don't think so, Sandy. It's over between us. Patricia just doesn't know it yet. I figure she's had enough shocks for now. I'll give her some time to adjust, then I'll file the divorce papers." "Really? So there's no chance of putting all this behind you once Patricia becomes Thomas again?" Although Sandy tried to sound surprised, her voice betrayed her. "Absolutely no chance. None. Look at her," Jan said, glancing towards the front of the room where Patricia nervously cut the wedding cake as Paco, standing at her side, chatted with Emily. "Do you really think I'd ever be with... that? Come on, Sandy! I need a man, a real man. Now that Paco guy," Jan continued with a laugh, "maybe he and I could be a number!" "Gosh, Jan, this is all so twisted, isn't it?" "You said it, girl!" Jan laughed as she refilled her wine glass. "But heck, let's have a good time. I'm happy for... her. And I'm also happy that I'll be free and single again, soon. Very soon." "And I'm happy, too," Katrina added with a grin, "since after today I will no longer have to train your ex in the fine arts of womanhood. I know, Thomas wasn't very masculine, and he did have a small cock - really small - but still, it took a lot of effort from me to change your ex from a male into that pretty bride." Katrina, a look of pride upon her face, pointed her finger towards Patricia, who was still passing out wedding cake to guests. Katrina then took a tube of red lipstick from her small clutch purse and, using a silver butter knife as a mirror, applied a fresh coat of bright red color to her full, feminine lips. Part 58 ------- "So, Josie, tell me again? These two aren't gay, yet they are marrying each other? I do say, your office is one flaky bunch!" Sharon's husband said with a laugh. Sharon handled rental properties at Patricia's office. "Yes, Bob, and don't be such a dweeb!" Josie said with a smile; she was c