Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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The Woman Who Was Once A Boy free porn video
The Woman who was once a boy © Elaine 2009
I first met Jenny at 2am on a Saturday night.
I just couldn't sleep and the bar I'd discovered just off the main
street was so inviting after walking for half a mile in the cold with a
lot on my mind.
At the time I was in the throes of a bitter divorce and really
suffering from the mental and financial pressure those legal eagles or
bastards can inflict and so deciding there was nothing to lose I went
in for a drink. A good stiff drink was all I had in mind until I went
inside the door.
The bar was dark and quiet with no music or distracting television. As
I walked up to the bar and ordered my Scotch, my eyes were drawn toward
a woman in an alcove who was sitting alone in a back part of the main
bar. Looking at a distance she looked simply stunning. I was amazed
that such a good looking woman would be alone in a bar such as this in
the centre of town regardless of the early hour. I noticed though that
she was also looking quite upset and unhappy as I strolled over with my
drink.
She had long thick curly blonde hair that went well down her back. Her
hair colour owed more to a bottle than to her genes I realised as the
roots were showing dark as I got closer. Her bangs were long and her
eyebrows what was left of them were long finely arched, dark and
tapered.
Her dark mascara or eye liner had run slightly but otherwise her
quivering lips were red, full and inviting. She wore a strapless corset
dress revealing quite deep cleavage. I guessed she'd had breast
implants because her breasts were so large like ripe melons stuck to
her ribcage. I imagined holding them in my hands.
Looking side on to the table I could see that her dress had a short
tight skirt and could see she wore sheer dark pantyhose and really tall
spike heeled sandals with a thick sole.
"Mind if I join you?" I asked cautiously with my glass in hand.
"It's a free country," she replied hardly sounding inviting but I sat
down anyway unable to resist her attractiveness.
"I know it's none of my business but I couldn't help noticing that you
seem a little upset. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No not really. My boyfriend and I just had a blazing argument," she
explained simply her voice was clear but soft.
"Oh I'm sorry," I replied and then declared. "He's a silly guy to upset
so beautiful a woman."
"Do you think I'm beautiful?" she asked looking up at me and smiling a
little she dabbed under her eyes.
"Yes of course," I said. "Who wouldn't?"
"Well he didn't think so - he wanted some changes made in my look," she
said without actually saying what he wanted.
"Pardon for me saying so but you already look gorgeous and whatever
changes he had in mind wouldn't be worth it. You don't really need
anything done that I can see," I declared gallantly. "But what did he
have in mind?"
Sitting opposite I could see that her body was already incredibly
curvaceous, which was a first clue that it wasn't all natural. Then I
noticed a subtle but noticeable sharpness to her facial features. She
was still attractive but I also thought that perhaps she wasn't quite
what she seemed. If my opinion on her was wrong then I might have an
unpleasant experience of being verbally abused and rejected by this
beautiful woman. However I really thought now that I was dealing with a
transsexual. At first I felt like getting up and leaving but my
curiosity got the better of me wondering why she had become a tranny.
Sure I had my own problems but sometimes dealing with other people's
issues can help you deal with your own by putting them into some kind
of perspective. Life might have been shit then but I found out that
there is always someone worse off than yourself.
In the corner of my eye I noticed a guy looking at us from the bar. He
was a big guy sporting lots of gold on his hands and neck. He had a
large frame and strong arms. He took a slow sip of his drink and smiled
over at me.
I wondered that perhaps I'd stumbled upon a tranny escort and he was
her pimp. It would be a pity if this gorgeous creature opposite me was
some kind of transsexual hooker or escort. I decided finally that this
was a place I really didn't want to go and so got up to leave.
"See you around," I said lifting my glass as a precursor to leaving.
"Going so soon?" she asked with her carefully applied sexy long false
lashes fluttering back at me. "My name's Jenny by the way."
"Fraid so Jenny," I replied gulping down the last of my drink in one
go, "I'll come back another time. I suppose I have too much on my mind
right now to be good company."
As I walked outside I wondered about her. She was the first transsexual
I'd ever met and I wondered if she was like those I'd seen on those
freak TV talk shows. I'd certainly never expected to find one so pretty
and convincing on my first encounter and thought it was a big pity that
she was an escort. As I walked aimlessly I wondered what had driven her
to become who she was now. I'd never been to a gay bar or frequented
places like that bar I'd visited, so this was a new experience for me.
The more I thought about her the more I was fascinated by her.
I felt sure there must be lots of transsexuals who work as waitresses,
hairdressers, receptionists, strippers, and many other occupations,
whom we may meet incidentally, without even questioning whether they
might have once been male in their past. Jenny didn't quite completely
pass as a woman but perhaps she wasn't supposed to.
As I walked home to my lonely apartment it seemed to me that
transsexuals were very sexy creatures or at least put it about that
they were hot. I found myself getting excited at the thought of what
someone like Jenny had done to herself. Certainly Jenny was sexy and I
wondered what sex with her would be like. I wanted to talk to her again
and wanted to know how she knew she'd been born the wrong sex and what
would it be like to become involved, knowingly or not, in a romantic
relationship with her.
As I walked up to my front door and looked for my key I thought it was
amazing at how feminine she'd become and yet there was still this tiny
remnant of her core masculinity remaining. I'm sure that it was her
face that gave her away and perhaps the pimp had that in mind. I
wondered did she ever regret what she'd done and just what it took to
get a change of sex in terms of money and relationship issues.
I realised as I slipped under the duvet of my bed in my lonely cold
apartment that I really wanted to learn more. What kind of man wants to
change his sex? What makes a man want to swap his fully functioning
penis for a surgically created vagina that might never orgasm again?
A few days later my curiosity was still high when I went back to the
bar and sure enough Jenny was sitting in a booth smoking a long slim
cigarette held between her still long red manicured nails. She was tall
and her long curly hair still cascaded down her back.
"Can I buy you a drink?" I asked walking up and smiling.
She smiled up at me, "Sure, a real rum and coke would be nice instead
of what the bartender usually serves for one."
"So did you sort out your problem?" I asked sitting down after handing
her a drink. I'd watched the barman to make sure he actually poured rum
into the glass.
She was initially hostile to my question.
"Sorry I didn't want to offend you particularly as I am curious about
your situation," I confessed. "To be honest you've been on my mind a
lot since we met a few nights ago."
"Ok you are excused this time," she said taking an easy sip of her
drink and then taking a long slow drag of her cigarette. She blew the
smoke upwards into the air and she'd left a lipstick mark on the filter
tip.
I realised that it was important not to rush things or push her too far
so I started on a different tack and so asked, "Where are you from
originally?"
"Originally I came from Mexico with my parents to Chicago but I moved
here without them two years ago," she explained.
"Where in Mexico?" I asked with more curiosity.
"Oh that doesn't matter now. I left there when I was 5 or so and I've
never been back. We still have relatives down there but we lost contact
when we moved into the USA."
"So what brought you to New York?" I asked.
"Oh I had to get away from living with my grandparents and my parents
didn't seem to understand me or my problems," she explained.
"That was courageous to leave home to come here." I said by way of a
compliment. "I hope it has worked out for you."
"Pretty much I'd say," she replied. "I have a nice place to stay and
have what most girls desire."
"You say you stayed with your Grandparents what happened to your mother
and father?" I asked.
"They divorced when I was about 8 years old. My mom couldn't look after
me on her own so my grandparents took over and I moved to Chicago to
stay with them as my grandfather worked for GM." She explained. "They
were though quite strict and acted like any parents should but I had to
get out when I was old enough."
"Was it the age gap?"
"Well that didn't help," she said smiling and then she took a long drag
before blowing out a long stream of smoke above my head. "But no I
really needed to realise my dream so I left just after my 15th
birthday."
"What was your dream?" I asked despite knowing already what it might
be.
"Well I'm sure you're no fool - I'm sure you know what that might be,"
she said breathing out menthol smoke from deep within her ribs again.
"I wouldn't want to upset you by saying the wrong thing," I said.
"Perhaps you can explain?"
"Well for as long as I could remember I'd always wanted to be a girl,"
Jenny started. "I was always jealous when my girl cousins got pretty
things and got to do the things I wanted to do. Of course my
grandparents would say no because I was a boy and boys don't those
things."
"So couldn't you accept that?" I asked.
"Well of course I tried and when I couldn't my grandfather tried hard
to make me accept it," she explained. "However I'd dress up in some
clothes I found in the attic whenever I could and one day he caught
me."
"Was he upset?"
"More angry than upset," Jenny replied. "I was thrashed hard."
"Does that really explain you wanting to leave?" I offered.
"No that came later but he did give me an ultimatum I couldn't accept,"
she explained. "So I was extremely careful not to get caught in female
clothes again but I'd play with dolls I bought with money my parents
would send me and I always played with them instead of boy's games."
"So you didn't do sports. I didn't either."
"Never despite my grandfather's constant encouragement," she said.
"That was one fight he was never going to win. I was quite interested
in boys and so would often go along to football practice to watch them
play rather than actually take part. I was quite happy when I wasn't
picked to play by the coach and I really would have loved to have been
a cheerleader."
"Oh so did you fancy some of the players?" I asked.
"Yes I had crushes on some of the top players and even a few male
teachers. I never had any sexual feelings for any of my girl friends."
"So did any of the guys like you?" I asked.
"Yes one did when I was about 13," she answered. "One of the
linebackers was gay and we became close."
"Close?"
"You know we had sex," she chided. "However I wasn't really attracted
to gay men but I started to fancy some guys I knew were straight. I'd
imagine them taking me to the movies or dancing with me dressed top to
toe as a girl."
"Why?"
"Well I really didn't like sex with gay men so much. Anal sex with some
could hurt a lot," explained Jenny.
"So what changed?" I asked my curiosity still high.
"Oh I made friends with another boy like me," she explained. "She
called herself Marie and we would go to parties, or go out shopping, in
our effeminate clothes. We were joined by another girl called Denise
and it was great fun for the three of us to get away with cross-
dressing in public."
"Didn't anyone notice?"
"I don't think so," she continued. "I managed to get some birth control
pills like Marie. We all had good complexions and no facial hair and we
hadn't gone through puberty yet. My hair like Marie's was quite long
and we were all the correct height for girls so no one noticed."
"Surely men noticed?" I asked.
"Well we'd get attention off boys and men we met when we were out and
about. That was exciting but also a bit frustrating, because we
couldn't let them complete their advances. Not many would appreciate
our little secrets."
"What about school? Didn't they object?"
"No school was fine, I was lucky to be well liked at school and so I
wasn't teased as much as my two girlfriends but my family wasn't very
happy when they found out I was still dressing as a girl. My dad came
to stay in Chicago and told me I had to stop acting like a girl. When I
went to stay with my Mom in Texas for a holiday she was worried I was
gay. I didn't know what I was. I just didn't feel right being a boy."
"Did it have an effect?"
"It would be easy to say no but actually I did try to look more boyish
though I kept my hair long," she said pulling out a picture of her from
those days from her purse. "See I was able to put some of my desire to
be feminine away. This photo was taken with my dad."
"So how did you change?" I asked probing again and handing it back to
her.
"When I finally left school I got a job that required me to dress as a
boy every day and that really depressed me. When I turned 17 my voice
was finally deepening and I was starting to shave once in a while so I
finally decided that I couldn't live the rest of my life as a man, even
if it meant being abandoned by my family. So I just quit my job and I
began to live full time as a woman, and so Jenny was finally born."
"Your family must have been shocked surely," I said and noticing her
glass was empty asked, "Can I get you a refill?"
"No I'm fine," she replied. "I need to go soon but I'll finish my story
since you are so interested. When I told my family of my decision, my
Mom actually was quite relieved I wasn't gay but my Dad and
Grandparents were quite upset and shocked. I'd stay away from home as
often as I could to avoid the comments and confrontation. Usually I
would stay at a bar I knew other girls like me would hang out. I felt
more comfortable with them and I soon discovered what I needed to do to
check and then reverse my growing masculinity."
"What did you do?"
"I moved out and started taking female hormones that I got on the black
market and the others taught me how much to take," she explained. "It
felt good to see the changes in my body and I reacted very quickly to
them. I found that my voice stayed at this level and didn't get any
deeper as Marie's had done. I can talk with a very high pitch if I need
to quite easily."
"Wasn't that a bit risky to take pills that you didn't know where they
came from without medical supervision?" I asked.
"Back then I really didn't care about the risks and I couldn't afford
proper hormone treatment. After a few weeks the changes in my body
really started to happen so that made my mind up to continue," she
explained. "When I learned about the cost of sex reassignment surgery
and who were the best surgeons I realised that I would only be truly
happy when I had that surgery."
"I hear that costs big money," I said simply remembering that TV show
I'd watched a few years ago on the subject. "You must have wondered how
you could afford it."
"Well many of the girls turned to prostitution to fund their surgery
and so I did too. I had a few men chasing my tail and they all thought
I was a genetic girl. I was happy that they accepted me as such. I
would always make an excuse why I couldn't have sex saying it was my
period or I had an infection like thrush so would they take it orally
instead which they seemed to enjoy."
"So did you ever tell any of the men about your situation?" I asked
wondering if she lived a constant lie.
"Yes one time but only after I'd met him a good few times and I figured
he liked me enough to hear that I wasn't a real girl."
"What was his reaction?" I asked.
"I could see he wasn't totally happy about the idea and he got up and
left," she said remembering the incident clearly. "However an hour or
so later and he was back and we went to bed. He seemed to get used to
the idea of me being a transsexual, and we continued romantically and
sexually for around 6 months. He even helped me with my treatment
costs and we lived together for a time before he had to leave for a new
job in California."
"Why didn't you go with him?"
"We rowed just before he left and he didn't like that I still had my
penis," she explained. "He didn't like that I was TS and would have
taken me with him if I'd been a genetic woman."
"Were you upset?" I asked.
"Yes I cried for weeks," she replied. "I really wanted to be a complete
woman for him and I couldn't."
"That's really sad," I said putting my hand on hers. "Do you still
remain in touch?"
"No not now. He found a new girlfriend and he's settled down on the
west coast," she explained.
"That does seems sad," I said. "So what did you do then? I doubt you
could have gone back to stay with your grandparents."
"Yes that's true I couldn't go back there again. I moved in with Marie
who had her own place. My old boyfriend Mike had given me some money
and I had enough to get some surgery done and I opted for an
orchitectomy."
"A what?" I asked showing confusion.
"Oh sorry it's a procedure for the removal of the testicles," she
explained helpfully but I felt my knees go weak at the thought.
"You mean castration?"
"It's really not as bad as it sounds," she said as she saw me wince
again at the words.
"It does sound bad if you have ever been kicked down there," I said
trying to make light of it but failing.
"Well with them removed there isn't really the pain to suffer," she
said.
"So why did you choose that surgery?" I asked and then apologised.
"Sorry you must think I'm really stupid."
"No it's Okay. The testicles produce male hormones and were making my
female hormone therapy less effective so removing them was going to
have good effects. It meant that I could reduce my female hormone
dosages and what I was taking was going to be a lot more effective."
"Did that work?"
"Oh yes it sure did and I noticed a big difference in just a few weeks.
My hips widened and my breasts were suddenly much bigger. My breasts
went up to a B cup and padding out my bras wasn't so necessary."
"How did you live? Did you have a job?"
"Yes I found a job at a local diner as a waitress and at a bar at night
so I was able to help Marie with the rent and still save money for my
sex change."
"Any more men in your life?" I asked honestly hoping that she'd had one
or two more
"A few," she said. "But each time it would end when they would move
away when they found out about me. That just made me more determined to
have that final surgery so I would just not need to tell anyone again."
"How long did you have to wait for the surgery?"
"It was another 4 years before I had the money. Marie had hers done at
the same time as me and we both flew to Belgium to have it done. The
results were incredible and after three months we'd healed up
completely and she won the race to lose her virginity as she had a
steady boyfriend at the time."
"It sounds so matter of fact to me. You go to Belgium and come back
with a vagina - didn't it hurt?"
"It hurt like hell," she admitted. "Pain medication was my friend for
the first week."
"What's the best part of having a vagina," I asked.
"Now when I have sex, men don't realise I used to be a boy," she
admitted. "That is such a big turn on that they think I'm a real woman
and I don't need to tell them otherwise."
"Yes but I realised that you were a transsexual," I replied.
"I know you did and I'll have facial surgery soon to fix that," she
said showing me what she would have done.
"Really? Because I saw that?" I asked shocked.
"Yes when I get the money together I will," she said shrugging and then
added. "Of course that's going to take some time as I can't afford it
now."
So there it was that despite the growing insane legal costs of my
divorce I paid for Jenny to have the facial surgery she wanted. She has
really blossomed since she went under the knife. She looks incredibly
beautiful and now no one would ever realise that she is a transsexual
woman and all the men she meets find her incredibly sexy and attractive
just as she always wanted.
It was the best money I'd ever spent as without it my ex wife couldn't
lay her hands on it and it made Jenny change into a completely
different woman. Now she is flirty, sexy, and socially active in many
ways. She's also gone to college to study fashion design.
The other big change is that she now lives with me and when my divorce
is over in a few months we intend to get married. In the meantime she
and I try out her neo vagina every couple of days and she loves that.
As do I. It's true what they say that transsexual women really do know
how to please a guy having been one themselves. We also ran down to
Texas to stay with her mother and she was thrilled at the changes.
"Geoff you've made her look so much more happier," her mother said.
"Thanks, your daughter has made me very happy too," I replied. "It
works both ways. Your daughter really has changed from being an unhappy
and sissy boy into an incredibly sexy young woman."
Then Jenny appeared and we went shopping for some high heeled shoes and
some good food for her mother so she could cook and prepare a
celebration meal.
"Do you still see your old friends?" her mother asked at the dinner
table to Jenny.
"No not any more. I've moved on with Geoff," she replied nodding at me.
"Doesn't Marie mind? You used to be very close," her mother asked.
"Oh Marie yes but she is happily married now too to an engineer she
met. They are going to adopt some kids and no one knows her past now.
Even her husband's parents," explained Jenny. "We've both moved on I
guess and we are happy with our men."
"And this one is happy with you darling," I added.
"Do you ever think of Jenny as a boy," asked her mother to me.
"No never," I replied. "She acts and thinks like a 19 year old woman
should. She loves me and I her."
On the way back to New York and our new apartment we agreed to get
married a few weeks later and we would invite Jenny's mother to the
wedding to share in our happiness. Jenny looked very happy with her
long false eyelashes, long pink and white nails, dyed blonde hair and
tight jeans that hugged her curvy hips. Then there was the cleavage she
always like to show.
Oh yes we were truly happy.
Comments or suggestions by email please to [email protected]
THANKS.
Mckenna
- 19.06.2021
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