A Girl Named Joe Part one
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A Girl Named Joe: Part Two free porn video
On the Monday, following Joes' arrival in Cocoa Beach He dressed in a
set of the panties and bra and hose the air force provided and put on a
sleeveless dress with a lace collar and the rather frumpy brown shoes.
Everything fit, but Joe felt like a damned fruit in the anachronistic
women's clothing. Joe cleaned up the dirty dishes and gave the apartment
a good holystoning the night before, specifically because he knew Lt.
Burns was due to drop by. That was why he kept all the dumpy frumpy
Patty Duke and Gidget clothes, so he could wear them when he needed to
impersonate a 'Ghuhrl'. Joe even bought a tin of variety butter cookies
and put on a pot of coffee for the Lt. whom Joe knew to be an Air Force
psychologist pretending to a lower rank. How did Joe know this? For one
the man was sure an old looking Eltee, for another he was married and
for a third, he was pretending too hard to indifference.
When Joe finished his preparations, he sat on the chair he bought and
fidgeted. Every ten minutes he got up to go into the bathroom and check
to make sure he was in the body of a woman. He made the periodic checks
because of the dreams he had been having and because he was wearing
Effing PANTY HOSE AND BRAS AND A DRESS! At one point, sitting and
waiting Joe experimentally pulled up his dress, checked the insides of
his panties, and hose by feel, Nope no dick, just a somewhat moist
fleshy vulva and vagina. If he did not stop touching it, it would get
moister.
Joe almost jumped when he heard the knock at the door and got up to open
it. True to expectations, it was Lt. Montgomery Burns, U.S. Air Force.
Joe told the man, "Hey how's it going, come on in."
Burns seemed visibly, but pleasantly surprised to see Joe in his female
wardrobe and looked around the apartment. It seemed clean and well cared
for. Joe asked Burns, "Can I offer you something, coffee and a cookie,
maybe?"
"Yes, please, thank you, Joanne." Burns sat in the other chair and
accepted the cup of coffee, taking a butter cookie from the tin. Burns
sipped the coffee and grimaced, then bit into the cookie to kill the
taste of the coffee. Joanne said grinning sheepishly, I guess I
shouldn't have tried to make coffee, huhn."
Burns grimaced again and answered, "Perhaps you just need to work on it,
Joanne. In any case, why don't you tell me how you've been settling in,
to your new identity, that is?"
Joe was unsure how much to tell this guy without giving the game away,
so he elected for a minimalist approach. "Well, Lt. I guess I've been
adjusting as well as anyone can, I won't lie to you, wearing these
clothes is a little odd, but hey, what else am I going to do?"
Burns finished his third cookie and told her, "I understand, at any
rate, I just need you to sign here,-" Burns proffered a clipboard with a
sheet on it, Joe read the sheet and it just affirmed that Joanne
Bradford accepted receipt of an authorized stipend of 150 dollars and
zero cents, U.S. currency on the present date in 1974. Joe signed it
with his new public name and Burns took an envelope out of his briefcase
and handed it to Joe. Joe took it and counted the seven twenty dollar
bills and the single ten dollar bill. Burns nodded at that and departed,
telling her, "I will see you next Monday, Joanne"
"See you then, Lt."
Joe stood on the stoop in front of his apartment and watched Burns reach
his car and drive away. Once the man was out of sight, Joe bolted inside
the house, closing and locking the door, and almost ripped the dress and
hose and other feminine clothes from his body.
Joe went naked into the bathroom and took another shower, as if he was
trying to scrub the 'girlness' from his skin. When he finished he came
out and put on his single concession to femininity. A pair of cotton
panties. Joe then donned a T-Shirt with the MASH logo for the T.V.
series. His next piece of wardrobe was a pair of tiger stripe utility
trousers, his army boots, and his customary fatigue blouse. Joe did not
know it, but it was almost as if he was dressing in drag as a biological
man. Joe grabbed his satchel and stuck the additional monies in a cookie
jar he used to hide his funds. Joe still had fifty dollars left from
the last windfall and elected to break his fast at Michael's restaurant.
By now, the staff and clientele were growing used to him and paid him no
mind.
Joe sat eating his ham and eggs with toast and hash browns and thought
to himself,
(That little faggot Michael might have decided to wear dresses and let
some Commie fuck him in the hoohah, but not Joe no sir, no way.) As soon
as Joe thought that, he regretted it. Mike had been good to him and done
a lot to make sure Joe was O.K., All the same, Joe was frightened of
Michael's advanced level of seeming feminine adjustment.
Joe thought to himself, (No, I have a girlfriend; I wear pants and
regular shirts. Sure, I wore that dress today, but that was just so
Burns would fork over the bread and get the hell out to leave me be. I
may be a woman in body, but NOBODY says I have to turn into a damned
member of the Brady Bunch.)
Joe finished his meal and signed his chit so that Mike would know to pay
for it. Walking out, Joe looked around. He caught sight of a gas station
sign and realized with a shock that gas was up to fifty cents a gallon.
He KNEW about that whole OPEC deal, but what the hell? Joe was glad he
didn't have a car,...anymore. It had been murder when gas was at forty
cents a gallon. Joe was walking along clutching the strap of his bag and
thinking about random thoughts when a man zoomed by on a bike and tried
to grab Joe's bag. Joe was wearing it crosswise over his opposite
shoulder witch cause him to spin to the pavement while still holding the
bag. The guy on his Schwinn hit the dirt as well and Joe took the K-Bar
out of his bag and told him, "Try to steal my bag will you?"
As Joe advanced on him he scuttled back and asked wide-eyed and
panicked, "What the fuck lady, are you crazy?"
"Crazy, Me? Naw, I just get a little testy when people try to rob me."
He was trying to get up when he realized the frame on his front wheel
was now bent from hitting the side of a building when his bike spun in.
His ride was going nowhere. "O.K., O.K., Jesus, I won't take your shit,
I'm sorry, Awright, FUCK!"
Joe felt his face, his cheek was bleeding from where it hit the
sidewalk, and his leg and hip hurt as well. The right pant leg of his
army trousers was ripped open and a little blood from a scraped up knee
was oozing out. Joe was holding the knife in a manner that bespoke
experience in close quarters combat, with the blade held against his
forearm. The man,...no, wait, the boy, he was just a kid, looked at Joe
with stark terror.
Joe told him, "Here is your choice. You can deal with me, or the cops.
You can fight me, or we can walk to the cops and you tell them you tried
to rob me."
"But,..."
"Or I could just cut your fuckin' prick off and keep it for a trophy."
Minutes later Joe flagged down a cop and the stranger told the cop,
"Yeah, I tried to get her bag, I figured she had some good stuff,
maybe."
The officer asked Joe for a statement and told him he might have to act
as a witness against the man in court, but with his confession, it was
not likely. The presence of Joe's Marine issue second hand K-bar never
came up in the discussion. "Well, officer, I hope it won't get that far,
I would hate to be responsible for CUTTING his future SHORT like that."
When the office drove off with the would be purse-snatcher in custody,
the latter man looked stricken as he looked back at Joe. All the same,
that still left Joe with a cut cheek, a bruised hip, and a scraped knee.
Joe limped to the bus stop and made his way back to the boardwalk and
his neighborhood. Then back to his studio apartment. When Joe walked in,
he looked around at his digs. A real bed replaced the futon. The place
now had two secondhand soft chairs and a series of posters. The 15 inch
black and white TV was gone and a 19 inch color TV sat in it's place.
There were several other touches such as more and better food and more
male-ish clothing. Joe's only concession to his womanhood seemed to be
the panties he had to wear under his trousers. He only wore the bras
when he absolutely had to, and he took notice of the fact that there
were other women, natural born, who never wore a bra. So it wasn't as if
HE were making some great statement by going smokeless upstairs. Joe
walked over to the room's bed and sat down on it. He then reached under
it as far as his slightly shorter arm could reach and found the
magazines.
Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, and Gent: home of the D cups. Joe flipped
through some of them to reassure himself that the sight of naked women
still aroused him. Joe was deathly afraid of 'turning queer' His lesbian
affair did not phase him as to this day he did NOT consider himself a
woman. What frightened Joe the most was the idea of having sex with a
man and LIKING it. His perceived pseudo heterosexuality was all he felt
he had left and he didn't want to lose it.
Joe was now laying on his side looking at a centerfold of a blond woman
in a library naked except for a pair of stockings, and he was starting
to play with his right breast as he looked. That was when he was
startled out of his reverie by the phone ringing. The magazines were
knocked to the floor and he realized his shirt was now up over his
breasts. He pulled it down and picked up the phone, "Uh, Yeah, Hello?"
The voice on the other end was Meredith or 'Merry' Foster, "Hey, Silly-
billy where are you, I thought we were going to the Movies today?"
Joe sat bolt upright and answered, "Oh, Yeah, Sure, I just, uhm, had an,
accident when I was coming out of the breakfast place, and Uh, I just
need to clean myself up, O.K.?"
"WHAT, You had an accident, are you O.K., what happened?"
"Yeah, no I'm fine some moron on a ten speed just ran into me, (Tried to
steal my pur-bag) and it took a little time to untangle from him
(Threaten to castrate him and then take him to the police.) But I'm
O.K., now, really (I'm shaken and scared and unsure of myself and I need
to be held and comforted.)"
Merry heard his words and somehow knew there was something under them,
She told Joe, "I'm coming over, Jo-Jo stay there, I'll be right there."
"No wait, don't It's O.K.,..." Joe realized he was talking to dead air as
the dial tone buzzed in his ear.
When Merry arrived, Joe allowed her in, and Merry's reaction was to
instantly hug Joe and tell him, "It's O.K., Sweetheart, it will be
alright. I won't let anyone hurt you."
The unabashed and unconditional sympathy of her reaction caused what
really happened to pour out of him. The fact that the 'accident' had
actually been an attempted mugging and pur-bag snatching and how weak
and vulnerable it made Joe feel. He also told her how he brandished a
blade and threatened to castrate the offender. As Joe recounted the real
story, Merry put him on the bed and removed his boots and pants so that
she could use the first aid kit to see to the scrape on his leg and the
cut on his cheek. The disinfectant hurt, but Joe withstood it, because
Merry's sympathy and understanding ameliorated the pain and perceived
humiliation. When his wounds had been treated and Joe was dressed in his
other pair of army trousers and boots, Merry told him, "Still My Jo-Jo
let him off easy, handing him over to the cops, You COULD have started
him on the road to a career in the Vienna boy's choir and no one would
have blamed you."
Joe could not tell her the real reason he was upset. The real reason he
felt plagued with nagging lingering doubt and creeping self loathing. He
was weak, He was smaller, and He did not have the commanding physical
presence and power he had enjoyed for much of his life. When Joe had
been a little boy, he had been subjectively smaller and weaker, but that
had been different. It had been a by definition temporary condition.
This was different. This was permanent and what was more, he would only
get weaker as age took him in the fullness of time. Not so very long
ago, if Joe Bradley had been mugged he would simply have beaten the
offending little turd within an inch of his life. Not now. Not ever
again.
That was when Merry took his chin in her hand and kissed him. Her lips
were soft, and warm, and welcoming against Joe's own and Joe responded
by kissing back.
Before the action could get too hot and heavy, Joe broke contact and
said, "Movie."
Joe was not really that interested in a film, but right now he was even
less interested in sex as it would only remind him of what he didn't
have and could not do. He didn't have a penis and could not penetrate
and thrust into Merry the way he wished he could right now. Joe Bradley
wanted and needed to feel like a man and getting his boobs sucked and
licked and his pussy eaten out and frigged would only make him feel more
emasculated right now.
"Sure, I wanted to see that new Sidney Lumet film anyway, Joe, let's go.
Joe and Merry sat in the darkened theater and watched as perennial
everyman actor Jack Lemmon played Paul Kersey, an older professional man
who's wife is beaten to death and who's daughter is raped by street
criminals in New York. Paul Kersey is sent on a business vacation by his
boss to deal with the tragedy and after a time, Kersey returns to New
York with a presented revolver and begins a career as a vigilante. The
film was called "Death Wish".
Joe had to collect himself from the spectacle of happy go lucky funnyman
Jack Lemmon shooting people in open street violence. Mr. Lemmon acted
his heart out and it was clear that what he was doing was twisting
Kersey up, possibly worse that the crime his family suffered.
The message was clear; taking the law into your own hands was no way to
deal with personal tragedy. As they left the theater, Joe thought about
what he was doing. He was butching it up and trying to be a man when his
body just would not play ball. Joe decided that he needed to get his
mind right. He needed to figure out just who in the world Joe Bradley
was, especially when the square of plastic in his pur-BAG said his name
was Joanne Bradford.
Joanne Bradford, who in the world was she; she was nobody, just a name
on a piece of laminated cardboard. Joe Bradley was some dude that died
in Hawaii, so who was HE?
That was what Joe needed badly to figure out.
Merry took Joe to a club near the University of Miami and Joe sat in the
booth listening to a Three-dog-night cover band doing a credible job on
songs Joe remembered his son liking. There was a glass of tea in front
of him and he sipped at it slowly realizing it was a Long Island Ice
tea. Joe didn't mind that as he was nursing the drink slow enough and
snacking on the bowl of pretzels so he would not get too drunk too
quickly. A young man Joe didn't know sat down at Merry's request and he
looked at Joe and told her I na genial voice,
"Hey, Soldier-girl, can I buy you another one of those?"
Joe was surprised; no one in his life had ever offered to buy HIM a
drink in a manner clearly meant to pick him up. He responded as best he
could in a clumsily demure manner, "Oh, no, I, uh, that is, I think I'm
good. Another glass of L.I. Iced tea materialized in front of Joe
regardless and he tried his best to make it last.
After reaching the bottom of the second glass Joe realized he was
feeling buzzed and happy and a little woozy. He had felt this way before
and knew the sensation. He was drunk. After two long island iced teas it
seemed improbable until he remembered that he was neither as tall, nor
as muscled as he had been and so would have less body mass to soak up
the alcohol.
Someone was helping joe up and out of the booth and leading him to an
upstairs wing of the club. Joe was feeling happy and silly and
beneficent toward his fellow man and when the stranger started
unbuttoning joe's unform blouse he was not even fully aware of it, he
just felt flushed as if he could use the fresh air. Then Joe was laying
down and his pants were coming off, that was when Joe started to realize
what was happening and mumbled his protests, "No, don't I don't want
to,..."
The strange man was bigger than joe and stronger than joe and before he
fully realized it his panties were off and a hard hot erect penis was
pushed into his pussy and began thrusting in and out.
Joe was being raped.
Joseph Bradley felt small and helpless and did his best to try to fight,
but with two spiked drinks in him and a man bigger and strong than him
on top of him he didn't have a chance.
Joe tried to cry out, but the man's left hand was over his mouth and Joe
could only manage a muffled whimper.
Joe lay there, helpless with this man, this brure moving on top of him
and inside him until his penis twitched and pulsed and he climaxed
inside Joe's body. When he did so, he got up and fixed his clothes and
walked out. Joe laid there for what seemed to be hours. Then he got up
and dressed as best he could after cleaning himself up down there. His
panties were ruined and so he just left them behind. Joe walked
downstairs, past the booth shared by Merry and her god damned hippy
freak friends. Joe walked in the darkness back to his apartment. There
was darkness and death in his eyes as he walked the streets. Twice men
he did not know crossed the street to get away from this frighten quiet
and dark eyed woman In the military fatigues. His left hand was in his
bag wrapped around the hilt of his knife and he was resolved to kill the
next person who laid a hand on him. Joe Bradley resolved that after the
aliens, and the nurse at that damned hospital and that son of a bitch at
the club, no one was going to touch him, not ever again. He was not
going to be anyone else's woman for any reason not EVER AGAIN!
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