A Change Of Life, Part 12 free porn video

A Change of Life, Part 12 by LaShaunda The next day, I went and asked, no, begged James if i could go back to Pauline's and get my hair styled into an absolutely massive "Afro." I thought that such a hairstyle would really symbolize the uniqueness of my new African identity, and would really bring out "LaShaunda" as an individual. Over the last few months, I learned that women, and especially black women, often intertwine their identities to a high degree with their flamboyant hairstyles. "Big, over the top hair," is a status symbol. Much to my disappointment, however, James refused outright to let me get an Afro, so I was stuck with my beads and braids. As Dave Miller, I would never have countenanced wanting a large and sexy Afro.... However, the old Dave Miller was vanishing, and LaShaunda (with her developing identity) was asserting herself as a woman... "But WHYYY" I whined in my lilting chocolate falsetto, only able to manage a high voice now. (With the dosages of estrogen and hormones that James had been plying me with, I could not manage Dave Miller's old baritone no matter how much I tried.... I had been loaded up with so much estrogen; practially the dosages that they give to female breeder racehorses, in an effort to maxmize their womanliness and feminine fertility in a short period of time!!!) It actually kind of scared me to see almost all remnants of Dave Miller vanishing so rapidly... From my deep male voice (gone), to my new mammoth boobs across what used to be my pectoral muscles (gone), to my all-ebony skin and big-bertha childbearing hips, pretty much everything was "new" about me. Actually, the last real remnant I had of my old maleness were my penis and testicles that still remained hidden inside my faux-vagina, and even these were painted black. There was no longer anything about me to suggest that I had once been caucasian.... Even my speech and ways of acting were now 100% those of a black woman.... (snap back to reality)... "No," James said assertively, "the race for Named-Partner at the firm is heating up, and the corporate events and dinners are about to start. The last thing I need is my arm-sugah showing up with a giant 70's fro to present herself before the board..... Maybe after it is all said and done, you can go get a fro' to wear for the rest of the summer." So I was disappointed, but I did not have much time to dwell on it. For the next couple of weeks, I found myself impossibly busied by different 500$-a-plate fundraisers and events for the firm going on every night, which James and I were required to attend. They were exciting at first, as I had a chance to look glamorous and sexy in my dresses, but before long, they became boring, tedious, and routine. You might think that I had punched the "golden ticket" when all I had to do all day was primp up for one dinner at night, and nothing else. However, I would have to spend at least 2 hours before each event getting ready....(do you know how much makeup it required to get my "LaShaunda face" on, especially when underneath it all, I was still a man?) I spent loads of time just trying to keep up with "living the lifestyle," which included things like loads of trips out to pick up a new dress. It took a LOT of effort to "Keep up with the Joneses" and maintain fashions that equaled or bettered those of my uppity black- female peers like Janelle and Sharon. When it all came down to it, I really had little "free time," to myself. This was the toughest acting job ever.... But I was in deep as LaShaunda, and I was impossibly busied and pressured with trying to live the fake life of James's girlfriend. However, the summer was flying by with all of these corporate events, faster than I knew it, and I would be back in pants in no time (and with my white skin).... I was so occupied that I quite honestly had little time to think about my daughters (formerly sons).... For one thing though, it was easy for me to see how they were getting along at camp, as they were able to post loads of status updates and pictures on Facebook every day. I would not have even been that worried about my kids attending Summer Camp, but for the fact that I was horrifed they would get "outed" as boys, with god-knows-what consequences. Fortunately though, it seemed that they were totally being accepted as girls (as I was). Tanisha and Ashanti posted LOADS of pictures on Facebook showing them and all of their ballet dancer friends "chillin'" and having fun in the studio. They also posted lots of images of them all down at the beach and in their bikinis, or just hangin' out around the cabins. It also seemed that both Tanisha and Ashanti were having "summer flings" with two new boys (one for each girl)... After about a week or so, it seems that both girls had taken up each with a new black-male football player from the camp next door. After this development, apparently, the girls both had less time to write me and send pictures, as they were spending every night hanging out with their "boos." I was a bit worried about what might be going on, but teenaged girls will be teenaged girls!!! (James assured me that the camps were well- chaperoned and did not permit much "hanky panky"...) Anyway, both of them were still writing me often enough, and as long as I knew they were ok, that is what mattered. Both girls always looked so cute in their leotards, tights, bikinis, and little short-shorts that were appropriate for summer!!! (In their pictures, it was amazing how much they had developed perfect ebony-female bodies, and how cute they looked with their black boyfriends!!!) It was clear that both Tanisha and Ashanti had the chance to develop into incredible young women, if they really wanted to go in this direction. At the least, they would ALWAYS remember this unique experience when they went back to being boys themselves. I thought a lot about the kind of fun they might be having with their black boyfriends; Splashing around at the beach, laying in the sun, etc. Ashanti was going on and on on Facebook about "the big dance"coming up, and how she couldn't wait for it!!! Both girls would always think, later on in life when they were middle- aged white men and had wives and kids, about what it was like to be a member of the completely opposite gender, to wear dresses, and to date boys!!! I imagined Ryan and Tommy being 38 and 40, both handsome and with respectable white collar jobs, still wearing pantyhose and panties under their slacks, laughing and chuckling with eachother about ballet classes, or the times they had made out with cute black guys!!! I wondered if they would ever disclose to their future wives and kids about the fun summer they had had as Ashanti and Tanisha??? It actually made me a bit jealous sometimes about the types of fun that my daughters were able to have, fun that I would never experience. The more I thought about it, the more I cursed the fact that I had had to spend my valuable teenaged years as a boring male, while my boys got to be fun black girls during those precious "years of erotic discovery" we know as puberty. I was also jealous about the fact that Tanisha and Ashanti could get away with doing things like wearing low-rider jeans and a visible thong, as that was age-appropriate and culturally- appropriate for them!!! I also had a secondary wish that I could have taken ballet as a teenager, when my body was growing and adaptable to things like dance... Then, I could have gone on to be a beautiful black ballerina, one of the few in the world!!! Oh, what an amazing and different life that would have been, instead of... (dumph).... Dave Miller. I quite honestly think I was at the point in my life where I was going through a mid-life crisis of sorts, and I was regretting not being the female person I could have been in my youth. I had always been a very sporadic and infrequent crossdresser with a few very mild fetishes, but this "LaShaunda" thing had shattered all of my boundaries, and pulled out all of the innermost feelings and urges from the deepest part of me. I also regretted my lost youth and the years I wasted as a man, when I could have been a pretty and sexy girl. (Even if I had been a white woman then, and not a black woman, that would have been amazing.) I regretted that I had not come out as trans, or a crossdresser, when I was very young (even though I knew deep down that my drinking, swearing, police-officer father would have crucified me if I had done so at that age), but this development was not possible for me until my mid-30's. (There was also absolutely nothing about me that had been "gay" until I met James.) But as I wanted to recapture my lost-youth, I decided one morning that I would go down to Pauline's (on my own), and ask my stylist if there was anything she could do for me to make me look "Younger."..... (YES, I had the craziest fantasies now of being able to go into the mall and appear to be young woman who was at least in her mid-20's.... I could go and shop at Forever-21, and Hot Topic.) I was going to ask Pauline if she could style me in a way to take years off my age, and give me outfit tips to help make me look even college-aged, potentially... Another makeover to make me look more youthful would also have the effect of making James lust after me even more, when he saw the "new me...." So with all the hope in the world, I planned my first adventure out into the world on my own, as LaShaunda. When I had moved in with James for the summer, I had parked my car in his garage, and I hadn't touched it or driven it for well over a month. James hadn't specifically forbidden me from leaving the house or driving, but I was a bit too timid in my current appearance to venture out on my own. Whenever I had been shopping for dresses (for a night out or something), I had always gone with LaKeesha or Cha'relle, to have "safety in numbers," in case I was outed. I was also very busy with my primping most other times, and James really did not like me just taking pleasure trips places, especially as I had no real reason to go anywhere by myself. But anyway, I tiptoed towards the car, and as I began driving, the rust began to wear off. I had not driven in so long, but my independence was coming back to me now. I sped off across the city towards Pauline's... I got to Pauline's, but the big black momma wasn't there today. Only Ayumi and Nabiki (her helpers) were minding the salon. I told the girls what I wanted (to look younger), and they said that they might have a few things that they could do for me. They used an experiemental new foundation on my face that made my ebony skin even smoother and creamier, and they used an anti-wrinkle treatment on my forehead. They also lined out my eyebrows even more. They used a new red lipstick that made my lips look even fuller and plumper. Finally, they took my kinky hair out of the beads and braids, and they straightened my nappy hair down into a simple long-smooth-and-straight style.... It wasn't much, but the simplest things did wonders. Sometimes, what is the least complicated looks the best, and "less was more" for this occasion. I loved my new hairstyle, and the girl looking back to me at the mirror really seemed to be about 24 or 25 years old. I was actually overjoyed to look back in the mirror and see the college-aged black girl smiling back at me, instead of the middle-aged black lady with the frumpy, over-the-top complicated hairstyles.... "Oh my oh my," chanted Nabiki in her Japanese patois as she bounced up and down, "You the best we ever do!!!" "Male, or anybody?" I asked. "Anybody," said Ayumi... "Here let me take your picture so you can see even more." Ayumi snapped a picture of me on her cell-phone, and she was right. I really looked so much more youthful, and I was able to judge this from a picture that someone took candidly, rather than trying to gauge my own reflection. "Can we put your picture with your new style in the front window?" asked Ayumi. "This way other women can see your style." "Of course," I said happily, knowing that now MY face would be advertised in the front the African-American hair braiding parlor, and all other women who entered would see it. MY image would be right out there in front, with all of the other hot, pretty, and sexy black ladies who'se images were used as examples for which "style" you could select. Now, as "Dave Miller," I had always thought that I had looked younger than my actual age (probably from the fact that I was chronically under- employed and a very immature man)... Now, however, this asset helped me, as I looked like a beautiful younger black woman. I also was very excited for my daughters to see my new makeover, after I posted a pic on Facebook back at them later tonight!!!.... First, however, I had to go get some new clothes that suited "the new me." Before I left for the mall, I waved bye to the giggly Japanese stylists, who said, "Come back again!!!" (The fact that I was really a white male meant nothing to them. I went into the mall and picked up 4 pairs of low-rider jeans with sparkly patterns on the back pockets. I got three pairs of "clogs." I also got some really tight tops that spelled out words like "sexy," and "princess" in glitter across the front. I went into Victoria's Secret and picked up some "Pink" gear like blazers, tops, and tight-pants, as this was what ALL the young girls were wearing these days (these clothes were colorful and girly, and all had the PINK logo festooned across the bust or the butt).... I also, finally, picked up some very colorful thongs to wear underneath. Much to my amusement, when I was shopping, I did not look or feel out of place at all in ladies' stores. I had been so long removed from manhood, that I barely even thought about the fact I was a black lady anymore. I also had no more fear that a fake tit would fall off, or that my male voice would crack through and give me away, as the hormones had raised my voice to that lilting falsetto.... "Yeah, dat' be amazin', dat be amazin' yo'!!!" I realized now I was very comfortable presenting as LaShaunda, and I no longer needed James or Cha'relle as an escort when I went out. I could talk and interact just fine, and nothing would give it away (unless I was subjected to a very close anatomical exam!!!) I was totally fine sorting through racks of clothes as LaShaunda, and I was now filing through a pantyhose display, as I needed a few more pairs of sheer tights after running a few nylons with my long toenails earlier.... A sales associate came up to help me... She was a young black woman about aged 20..... "Hi there," she said to me, "is there anything I can help you find?" "Oh no," I said, "I just need to stock up on pantyhose again..." "Well, if you need anything," she said, "just ask. Also, there is a 30% off store discount if you present your college ID at the register." "College ID?" " Well, yes," she said, "I just figured you were shopping for back to school." (SCORE!!!) - I thought!! It was AMAZING that she really thought that I was college-aged. This girl talked to me like I was one of her peers, and not an older lady. As I caught a glimpse of the both of us in one of the wall mirrors, we really did look very close to the same age and type-of-person. The reactions of people to myself told me that I now presented perfectly as a black lady, and that I appeared to be younger than my actual age. Out of excitement (or gratefulness), I ran up about 800$ worth of pantyhose, lingerie, jeans, and tops on James's credit card at that store, which surely gave that little black sales clerk a VERY welcome commission. She thanked me profusely as I headed off with bags and bags in tow!!! ---- I headed out of the mall, loaded up with a small store's worth of feminine apparel. I put the bags in my car and planned to speed off back home, where James would find me "waiting" seductively for him in the bedroom, with my "new look." I would be ready to give him an extremely erotic ride. He would find me on his bed, spread-legged and smiling in a new negligee, and sheer black pantyhose. I began to daydream on the ride home about the new erotic experience I would treat him to.... I had to do something new that I had yet to perform for thim thought, that would excite him in a completely new way. Maybe doggie style, or anal? (No, no, NO... I am not ready!!! And that will hurt too much!!! Still, there is a lingering feeling that James will probably want to take me up the ass sometime!!! I mean, isn't that what all black men want, and he will probably get tired of my dry and fake pussy too.... My gosh, I be scared!!!) (I will just have fun with James, and maybe just regular sex with him!!!) Ok, so I got on a main road, and I was quite absent-minded. I was thinking so much about James, and sporting a large erection in my pantyhose while I was thinking about what I would wear to greet him as he came home from work!!! I had spent about 1500$ of his cash today, so I really had to "work it," and basically make myself "his Beyonce" as he came in, getting him totally aroused and ready to ravish the 22 year old hottie sprawled out for him!!! I looked down at my speedometer, and I was doing 57 MPH in a 40, in a hurry to get home to James!!! But my awareness was too late. The next thing I knew, I saw the awful, AWFUL flashing red and blue lights of a police cruiser behind me. It was clear that he wanted me to pull over, and he was going to write me for speeding, or something else!!! There was nothing I could do. My heart sank in my chest as I slowed down and pulled into a McDonalds parking-lot to park and get my citation. The officer followed right behind me and stopped behind my car, and he got out (he seemed to be a regular white guy, about 30 years old or so). A ticket was quite honestly the least of my fears as he approached me, given the other "things' I was hiding..... "Miss, do you know how fast you were going?" "I'm sorry officer, I'm sorry," I said, "I think I was doing 55, ok." "You were doing 57," he said, "and you have expired plates. That is why I pulled you over. License and registration please." I fumbled about and I handed the officer my "LaShaunda" drivers license that James had given me. The cop took a cursory look at it, and it seemed to check out. "You look pretty young for 36," he complimented... "Been doing some shopping, young lady?" said the officer. "Yes sir," I said, "I'm so sorry... Please, this is my first ticket, and I'm sorry for speeding." (I was practically quivering inside, and my feet were glued to the floor.) "Well," said the officer, "Anyone who comes and spends this much money in our city probably should get a break. And you do get one warning to get your plates taken care of, so I am going to let you go." "Oh thank you, thank you," I said, "it won't happen again, and I's gonna get these plates taken care of as soon as possible." The cop walked back to his car, and I thought the crisis had passed. I planned to speed away. However, just as the cop was heading back, I heard a crackling voice say something on his walkie that sounded very faintly like "Dave Miller." The cop stopped in his tracks. Another backup police vehicle pulled up behind him. The officer turned around and approached my window again.... "Yes officer?" "Well LaSHAUNDA," he said, accenting my name, "it seems we have a problem. Your vehicle is registered to a certain 'Dave Miller'." "Oh no." "You don't know anything about this do you? Well, of course not.... Get out of the vehicle and put your hands on the car." As I did so and cooperated, I wanted to scream "Police Harrasment," but I knew they were right. Here I was, driving the basically-stolen vehicle of a white man. The other officer who was on the scene for backup came up and said to his colleague, "Hey, I got the report, and Dave Miller is the son of CAPTAIN John Miller.... I think she stole John's son's car." That part was true... my father was John Miller, recently retired from the city police force after 35 years. This was yet another aspect of this horrible situation now sinking in; that my father may find out about my "situation," if one thing led to another. Everything had gone to SHIT in an instant. Here I was, now, my bogus identity being searched and prodded by the cops on suspicion of a stolen car. The officer now went through my purse and dumped out the cards and contents..... "Hey buddy, look at this!!!" he said. "This is amazing, LaShaunda here has Dave's driver's license, Dave's checkbook, Dave's credit cards." "Wow," said the other one, "it looks like we just busted a burglar and a giant identity thief. And look in the car, she probably just went shopping and maxed out Dave's credit cards on clothes and shoes!!!" "Lady, you are in the shit now," said the first officer. He slapped handcuffs on me. I was read my Miranda rights... (You have the right to remain silent, the right to an attorney, etc) (No, wait, please, I wanted to protest.... i will drop down and give both of you Blow Jobs right now if you let me go!!!) My one saving grace, however, was that James would come along at some point to rescue me and put the situation right. However, I just hoped he could do that before my father was informed of the situation and got involved in some way. I almost did not even care if he saw me dressed as a black girl, but what if he realized what had happened to his grandsons!!! It was pretty much inevitable though that now, he would be told, directly or indirectly, about the incident with LaShaunda and Dave. Knowing that James might save me prevented me from a total act of desperation like offering these officers oral sex in exchange for freedom. I was led off to the caged back seat of the cop-car, while they confiscated my purse, my shopping, my I'Ds, and everything all as "evidence." It was clear that if things played out without James, that I would basically be in MASSIVE trouble in one way or the other. I had thought, right now, about coming out to the cops in the back seat of the vehicle, and telling them I was transgender and queer and that I was Dave Miller. However, I thought that that would not be smart, and I should at least wait until I got to the station to get it sorted. My main fear was that the two white cops would be so disgusted at an individual like me that they might react in a very bad way to my revelation.... (I remembered the whooping of Rodney King and all of the negroes busted for DWB (driving while black).... I also was still liable for something like "identity fraud" by taking out Identification for a fake person (LaShaunda Jackson). As we drove, as if to add to my misery, the officers began telling black jokes. They were clearly very disgusted with me, as not only was I a petty black crook and a thief, but I had ripped off the son of a very respected police officer, which was a BIG no-no.... So they gave it to me. "How long does it take a black lady to take a shit???" - "How Long..." "9 Months!!!" (sounds of guffawing and knee slapping...) "Why do black ladies wear panties at picnics???" "To keep the flies off the chicken!!!" " What is long and hard on a black boy??" "The Fourth Grade!!!" "Why can black men only think about sex???" "Because they have pubes on their heads!!!" "What does the NAACP really stand for???" "Niggers are always causing problems!!" "NO, wrong!!!" "Now Apes are Called People!!!" I felt disgusted as the two white officers made very insulting jokes directly at my expense. To some degree, even more, however, I reflected on how recently I had BEEN one of the white guys.... Not anymore, however. I also could not come clean about being Dave and being a white male at this instant, as my current disguise and skin-creame was so irreversable. So I just sat there quietly, folding my hands in my mini- skirt, and taking their barbs and insults We got to the station, and I was booked and led to a holding-cell, which was directly across from the main lobby and foyer of the station. As I was fingerprinted, I felt a bit like Rosa Parks in that iconic picture, the victim of some terrible injustice. I was left in a small cell, looking directly out to the water cooler and boxes of donughts where all of the cops habitually gathered and chatted. What was worse, I recognized several of my dad's fellow officers; men I had also known and grown up with. The fact that "Dave Miller" had been on a first name basis with some of these guys made me very fearful about now trying to tell someone about the truth of the situation, even though otherwise I would have just come clean about my crossdressing. "LaShaunda, you get one phone call," said the jailor. I went to the payphone and eagerly dialed James's number... He would get me out of this. (dialing)... The phone answered, "Hello, Haji's deli and gyros...." came a foreign voice. "Shit Shit SHIT... I dialed the wrong number!!!" "Can I please have another phone call," I begged... "No, sorry," said the arrogant jailor, "You only get one." "Oh fuck, what do I do now?" I sat there for another 30 minutes, quivering in my tights, until a processing officer came up to me and said, "Ok Mrs. Jackson, I have gotten off the phone with the district attorney, and we are going to be required to hold you here until it is decided which charges will be pressed against you. You will be informed in no later than 48 hours of the exact charges against you, but you are probably looking at identity fraud and identity theft." "No, wait, wait, wait," I pleaded, "I have something to tell you that can change this whole situation. There is no need for charges. All of this is legit and I have alibis." "Oh yeah," he said sarcastically, "They busted you AFTER you stole all of that guy's credit cards, and his ID, and his checks." "But wait, I am...." "Save it for the jury, Mrs. Jackson," he said platonically, "But for right now, I am going to have to have you submit to a full body cavity search before we take you downstairs... Officer Flores here will administer it to you in privacy." The beautiful Latina officer just arrived, with a box of white sanitary gloves. Officer Flores was one of the few female officers on the police force, and it was her job to administer a discreet female-on-female body-cavity search to all newly arrived women suspects. Flores was about 25, an incredible dusky beauty, single-mom, and one of the top graduates from the Police Academy. The fucked up thing also was that Flores had trained with my dad for his last two years before he had retired from the force. They had been on the beat together, and had taken fire together in a shootout in the projects. Officer Renata Flores had also become close friends with my dad (almost like his daughter), and she had even been invited oveer for things like Thanksgiving and Christmas to my parents' home. As "Dave Miller," I knew her very well too...... I had clandestinely always admired her beauty from a distance, and I had long wished that I could date her. Sometimes, she had even flirted with me (very mildly) when I was a guy and we would bump into eachother in the supermarket. I still thought even now, that Officer Flores was a true beauty, with curves and a face almost like Jennifer Lopez. She stretched on her white sanitary gloves, pointing her finger in preparation for the penetration of my anal cavity. And now, here I was, and this intimate family friend (and girl I had long had a crush on) was ready to give me a body cavity search. This was such a crazy situation, as now Officer Flores only thought of me as a ghetto-trash black female perp!!! "Thank you Officer Wilcox," she said, "You can leave now, as I am going to search this suspect!!" The fat white booking officer walked away, leaving the two of us alone in my cell. "Ok LaShaunda, you don't have to strip," she said, "But just pull your pantyhose and panties down, and your miniskirt up, so I can examine your private areas for contraband. We can get this done quickly and painlessly in a few seconds...." "OMG," I thought as I panicked, "I am done for now... She is going to realize that everything down there is "not what it seems!!!"" The horror of having basically another prostate exam was secondary. "Wait, I have something to tell you," I protested... "Hold on," said Officer Flores, sweetly, "I'll just get this over with quickly." The next thing I knew, I felt her finger ENTERING MY BLACK ASS and digging aroud in my cavity back there. Of course, it was clean (of contraband)... However, the little finger was painful, and a very uncomfortable shock. It felt like my tiny hole was being stretched far further than it was ever meant to...... (And now, to my horror, how AWFUL would it be when James, with his massive "black mamba," finally culminated things by "mounting" me back there!!!) But the fear of James having anal with me was a horror far off in the hypothetical future.... "Ok, turn around LaShaunda...." "I NEED to tell you something," I protested... "Ok, after I do this," said Flores. Flores reached down with her hand, and inserted it probingly up into my fake vagina. As she got a closer look at my genitalia, she began to realize that something was "off." "Oh my god, what is this," she said, as she realized my Vagina was something odd and made out of brown latex. She had surely never seen anything like it before, even with hooker trannies she had probably busted downtown 100 times before. I don't think anyone would have been prepared for the likes of me!! As she began to dig around, I began to get irrevocably aroused inside my pussy panties, as her hand brushed against the underside of my penis... "What the, what the," said a now very confused Flores. In her mind, I now definitely did not have the typical female genitalia, but perhaps I was just some sort of weird hermaphrodite, or I had some sort of crazy birth defect. But it was too late now, Flores had taken her delicate hand up my vulva, and in the quest for contraband, she had squeezed my hard penis which was concealed up in its tube. She found my little monster and gave it a directly hard pull and tug, which set my nerve endings raging........ Apparently she was looking hard for a vial of coke or something, but she had inadvertently grabbed my penis and squeezed it in what was practically a chokehold, cutting off circulation. She still must have thought it was something small and concealed, and she tried to yank it out. "What is this, what is this," she screamed!!! I heard other officers running down to the commotion, ready to back up Flores as she discovered my secret "package". ... "What am I grabbing???" I was in both pain and extreme arousal as she was trying to tear my organ in a direction that it was not meant to go.... "Wait, wait, you have to stop... That is what I have been TRYING to tell you." "WHAT am I grabbing....??" she said with disgust. Behind her 4 male officers sprinted up outside of our cell... "What the fuck is this!!??" "That is my PENIS," I protested as I shrieked in pain from my cock being bent downwards.... "Your PENIS!!!" shrieked Flores. The other male cops were absolutely flabbergasted. This was a whole new situation for all of them. God only knew what they were dealing with. "Yes, I AM DAVE MILLER... I AM A GUY!!!" Officer Flores yanked her hand from my pussy and got away from me as fast as possible. She quickly bolted from the cell and slammed the door shut behind her, yanking off her sanitary glove and tossing it in the trash can... She washed her hand off in the drinking fountain. "That vagina is fake," said Flores, quivering. "If you get up close and look at it, it is some sort of a fake vagina.... Besides that, I don't know, I JUST DON'T KNOW!!!" "What the fuck," said one of the other officers. "This is the craziest shit ever." "I FUCKING GRABBED HER PENIS..." sobbed Flores, "I put my hand on a fucking penis!!!" Flores was totally shook up. (I was still rock hard inside my vagina. I stood there like an idiot, with my tights and underwear pulled down to my black knees, and my skirt hiked up, and the 5 cops just standing there and staring at me with slack jaws. And to them, I was just an idiot black woman staring back at them.... I was total ghetto trash (at best, probably some awful tranny hooker from the inner city!!) Then, one of the cops, a big muscular white dude looking at me, said, "Yeah, but we damn sure know you aren't Dave Miller though. Dave Miller is Officer John Miller's on. Do you expect us to believe you DIDN'T rip that guy off?" "Yeah, I mean, come on, Dave Miller is white, and a dude, for that matter." (I guess there was no point in trying to hide about it now, as my dad would surely hear about all of this from his buddies, one way or the other.) "Look, I AM Dave Miller," I said with frustration, "I have been this whole time, and if you just stopped and listened to me..." "Yeah right," another of the officers hooted, "I've known Dave Miller since he was little, but I don't know WHAT the heck you are. And frankly, I don't care.... You know, its gonna be funny what some of the PIMPS do to you when you go to (probably) the MEN'S prison." "Yeah, you piece of Ghetto Trash," said another. "You can say whatever you want, but John Miller is on his way down here right now..... Also, that LaShaunda ID is also obviously bogus. You gave her age on that one as 36, when you are CLEARLY in your early 20's!!" "I still think that this is a woman though," said the last officer, "I don't see anything wrong with her vagina... Flores, were you seeing things?" (Flores tried to speak, but no words came out). "Yeah, her snatch looks pretty normal to me too." The officers continued to debate my merits, my gender, and my status for a few more minutes... What exactly stood before them?? (I suddenly had the most terrible thoughts about the unimaginable fate that awaited me if I was really sent to a MEN'S prison. I would surely go to a men's prison after a more detailed physical exam, and a trial!!!... OMG, I looked totally like a black woman (except for my dick), and I would seriously be raped 20 times a day there. I would be the only guy in prison who had the complete apperance of a woman, especially with my real hips and boobs. I could only survive by instantly becoming the girlfriend of the biggest gang-banger there, and even then guys would basically have their way with me.... I would have no chance at all!!!) (No, that is the worst fate ever.... James will get me out of this, he MUST!!!) Just then, I heard my dad's voice in the lobby, talking to the city clerk, "Hi Ruth, I was called down here because of a situation with my son??" "Yes John, go speak with the officers in the holding cells...." I quickly hiked my pantyhose and panties back up, and I made myself decent again... "Aww, she's shy," said the arrogant muscular officer. "This lady says she is your son, but she's just a fucking insane identity theif!!!" My dad walked over, "Back off, back off," he said, "Give us some privacy." The other cops, in respect to my dad, went away for a second, except for Officer Flores, who was still cowering in shock by the donuts. She waited to see what would transpire, and if I really was "Dave." Dad looked at me, and I looked into his eyes...... He eyeballed me up and down. "So lady, what is this all about?" I was mortified and embarassed. I had my dad standing right in front of me, and I was all tarted up like a black hoochie-momma, in a leopard print mini and still looking like a college-aged black princess after her makeover. I was even unrecognizable to my FATHER on the first occasion he saw "LaShaunda." This was how far I had come in my transformation to a black woman!! The man who fathered me and raised me looked at me, and all he saw was a totally unfamiliar ebony female. "Dad," I said, "bon't you recognize me... look into my eyes." I spoke with my light and lilting voice, which had totally changed from that of his son's. My dad looked closer and studied my eyes and face, and in one instant, his facial expression changed into a look of horror. He staggered away, pointing his finger...... "Renata, Renata," he said, "it's, it's, DAVE!!!!" He HAD recognized his son, who still lived underneath the layers and layers of his new black-female exterior. "Oh Dad, I'm so sorry," I said as I broke down crying. My boobs shook and quivered. "Son, my SON, what are you doing dressed this way? What the heck has happened to you?" "Oh dad," I sad, completely in tears. (I was crying so hard that my makeup was running and I could barely speak. And he was emotionally destroyed too, in a whole new level of anguish, to see his son tarted up as a totally offensive-looking black girl, with boobs. Both of us were absolutely distraught beyond any description, as we were both in a situation that neither of us had anticipated). "Its so hard to explain, but I was sort of doing an "acting job," that got way out of hand." "An acting job, an ACTING JOB," he said. "How long has this been going on. How LONG have you crossdressed for. And as a BLACK WOMAN!!!" "I know, I know," I wailed. "Oh my god, if I could take it back I would if I could, but I can't. And listen, I didn't steal anyone's identity. Ok, I might be guilty of making a fake Driver's license, but wait, even James did that... I didn't do ANYTHING WRONG!!!" "Who the heck is James?" said dad. "Oh fuck, I don't even want to know. And oh fuck, wait, where the heck are Ryan and Tommy? Do they know what you are doing?" "No dad, they haven't seen me this way. They don't even know I crossdress... They're at summer camp, uh, football camp for the summer..... And look, I have some guy paying me to dress this way who is using me as an actor for an independent movie that makes jokes about Crossdressers.... that is ALL this is. I don't even LIKE dressing this way, but they wanted me very realistic for the role." (the lies were flowing now).... "An Actor," said dad. "What the fuck do you know about acting? You work in a factory for fuck sakes..." "Look, it just sort of happened. Believe me, I wish I could tear off these clothes right now and go back to being a guy, but I'd have nothing to wear out of here. And they wanted me to go around the city and shop for clothes, to get used to my role. It just got really, really out of hand." "But what the fuck did they do to your hair?" said dad. "And you have fucking boobs!!!" "It's just padding, it's just padding," I reassured him. "All of this can be reversed in a day." (I saw practically the whole police department return to the scene, obviously with much interest in eavesdropping on the conversation. Obviously, this was fascinating to them.) "You know what, look son," said Dad, "this is just so fucked up. You know, I don't give a fuck what you've been doing, or what is going on. I remember you used to dress up in your mom's clothes and in your sister's clothes when you were younger...... I looked the other way then. And you know what, it doesn't fucking matter to me either. All I care about is that my grandsons are safe, that you aren't a fucking coke addict or something. And you know what, I am going to call the camp tomorrow to make sure Ryan and Tommy are where they should be, and safe." "Ok dad, fair enough. I'm so sorry." "My fucking god, look at you.... You gotta get out of there and wash that god awful makeup off. You look fucking ridiculous." I was let out of the holding cell.... "I don't know how I can even live, with my son a fucking queer and a fucking pansy... I think you should just get the fuck out of here, and I may never talk to you again." It killed me to hear my dad say that. "No, please," I said. "I don't even know you," my dad said, "You are a black woman now, and NOT my son. You just live your fucking life however you fucking want, and you can wind up as some retarded queer anywhere." "I have never seen this before," said Officer Flores. "A white man becoming a black woman... I mean, this is unprecedented." Flores was still in total shock at the realization that this African-American female hussy standing before her was the same person as the guy that she had once flirted with and perhaps even had a mild interest in. "Yeah, this takes the cake," said another. My dad turned around to address the department. "You know what, will all of you give my son a break. He's been through enough today.... I'm sorry son, I didn't mean what I said, about me not talking to you any more, and all of that." "It's ok," I cried... (I felt female emotions running through me. My dad would come around soon enough.) I still continued sobbing. (I'd have to freshen up my makeup soon.) It wasn't, however,like I could just rip off my skirt, wash off my fake skin-creame, and go back to being Dave Miller. I was stuck, in the shameful state of being LaShaunda, before my father. This had to be the lowest of the low for any self-respecting man, for him to look forward and see his son not just in drag, but dragging it up as the member of another ethnicity that was regarded as "lesser" than the Caucasian race. It would have been bad enough to be crossdressed as a white woman, but as a BLACK woman sunk to an entirely new level. But the fact that it was so humiliating and unprecedented made almost everyone speechless. I personally knew many of the older cops (friends of my father's) who were standing around and gawking at what had become of the little boy that they had once doted on at police picnics..... Even worse, however, was for my long-time crush Officer Flores to see me in my new state. I had hoped, no, prayed that I could endure this summer and return to my previous life with no repercussions, and no one knowing. However, that plan was out the window. I could NEVER go back to my old life without the worst stares of shame from everyone I knew!!! I tried to give my dad a hug... "Just- don't- Fucking touch me," he said. Dad was going back and forth so rapidly with his emotions. He was too worked up to actually try and reason with him, much less to get him to accept "LaShaunda" as "the new me." I looked up, and other groups of cops had broken up and were laughing uproariously, clearly at my predicament.... I sort of stood there like an odd circus freak, with no cop willing to come within 15 feet of me. "OMG, how did he become a black woman!!!!" Just then, as I was wondering what the heck I should do next, when the tall, towering figure of James burst into the police station. He overrawed even the most muscular officers there, and all of the police showed him deference, thanks to his superior social status.... "I hear there is a situation," he said abruptly to the court clerk... "Yes," she said, "She... no, he (giggling).. is right over there!!!" She looked incriminatingly at me. I held my head down with more shame. "What are all of you laughing at," demanded James, "Can't you see that this poor LADY has been through enough??" The other cops shut up. James came up to me and put his light jacket around my shoulders. Even my dad was agape as he saw how the big black man was clearly treating me as his girlfriend.... (As James held me in his arms, dad was surely thinking now that this was no "movie role.")... "Oh James," I said, "thank you, thank you." "You are my HERO," I said to him as I gave him a hug. I said it very lovingly, in an intonation that made all of the other cops KNOW that I was his true female love interest. "Come on LaShaunda," said James, "Lets go... I have already sorted out your license situation with the higher-ups." So I felt fucked-up acting like such a girl around my dad, but I was so grateful to James for saving my hide, that I cuddled very close to his side as we walked out. He held me like his little girlfriend, and everyone saw. "John, your son is a black woman, and he's going with that guy," whispered one of the cops behind our back. "Well, what the fuck do you want me to do about it right now..." said John, clearly mortified and agitated, "I can't just fucking stop them. That guy is a big-shot lawyer." "You gotta do something, this ain't right..." I felt so mortified for my dad as we left, as now he had THE most unforgettable humiliation in front all of his friends, as his son had become a total black girl.... ----- James and I left, and got into his car. We sat there for a minute.... "Is everything ok," he asked me? "You can't drive your car again for the rest of this summer, obviously, but I got all of your shopping bags, credit cards, everything, releaed back to you." "Its not that," I sobbed. "My dad saw me dressed this way. I can never go back." "Of course you can go back," said James, "He'll get over seeing you as a black woman, and he will forgive you... Just give it time." "Its so humiliating," I whined. "Listen," said James, "You shouldn't care what he thinks. You can live an independent life, whether or not you have the approval of a few racist old honkies on the police force. And I will help you transition back, just after I make partner." I lightened up a bit and chuckled. "But James," I said, "there is one other problem." "What is that?" "Well, uh, when my dad was interrogating me, he said he was going to call the football camp and make sure Ryan and Tommy were there. He has no idea that we changed them too into my black daughters... I lied and didn't tell him." "Hmm, maybe you should have just told all the officers there the whole truth." "I didn't want to hurt the reputations of my boys for when they went back to being men. They could never live it down." "Understandable," said James. "Listen, don't worry, I will pull some strings and work out something to where "Ryan and Tommy" are at football camp, instead of ballet camp." "By the way," I asked, "How did you know I had been arrested? And thank you so much, by the way, for coming to save me." "I tracked your cell phone to the police station." ----- The next morning, I was still a bit shaken up. James came to me bright and early and said, "Don't worry about your father finding out what your girls are really doing this summer," said James..... "It's sorted." "What do you mean its sorted?" I asked. "Surely he will call the camp system and find out?" "Remember, I have friends in high places, and eyes and ears everywhere... I also damn sure can't have it come out that my girlfriend and her daughters are really three white trannies.... If that happened, my reputation would be ruined, and I would never make partner..... No, don't worry, I took care of it, and when your pa calls the camp, he will be told that Josh and Ricky are attending there and playing football. I just did a little temporary switcheroo with their social-security-numbers and medical records at the camp, with my friend there!!!" "I worry for the girls sometimes, James.... I mean, is all of this the best to be putting them through??" "Its for the best," said James, "And the girls really do seem happy, if you want my honest opinion. You know, they really are becoming REAL girls in every sense of the way!!" "Thanks James, that means so much to me. We are all trying so hard to be the best black women that we can be." (This much was true. I had been throwing myself heart and soul into becoming the ideal black princess, as i wanted so badly to win and keep the approval of James.) "Oh, and by the way," said James, "I also LOVE your new look and hairstyle....." "Mmm, mmm," I said, "now maybe you can come and let me show you sumthin' else!!!" ----- The next day, I got another facebook text from my girls, telling me that they were sorry they hadn't written for a week, but that they were having "so much fun" and were too busy to talk. Tanisha even told me that both girls were really "getting serious" with their new boyfriends, and that the big dance was tomorrow night, but both girls had nothing to wear!!!! Ashanti went on and on about what a tall stud (6'4'') her new big boyfriend Demitrius was, and how she LOVED his awesome dreadlocks. I shuddered a bit thinking about my daughter (formerly son), in the arms of such a big buck, and what might happen should the camp counsellors and chaperones DARE leave them unattended or unsupervised, even for a few moments. However, I had to hope and pray for the best for my little girl, as I was so far removed from the situation. She was also almost 14 anyway, and becoming a viable young woman in her own right!!! I could try and fight it and delay it, but absolutely nothing could stop the inevitable track she was on towards becoming a full-time black girl, who would naturally want to date and have relationships with boys!! We were quite honestly so far removed from our own manhood, that the idea of my (girls) out there running with boys was really no longer a slight to me in any way. I said bye to my girls on Facebook, and I told them both just to be careful. "We will momma..." Then, James came into the house and said to me, "LaShaunda, I just signed you up for something." "What is it?" The Community College is offering a 2 week summer course on African countries, customs, and cultures. It meets every weeknight for the next two weeks." "Oh wow, that sounds exciting?" I said. "Yeah, as soon as I saw it, I knew I had to sign you up for it," said James, "Especially as you were so eager earlier to get an afro' and really become more independent. So now, you will get to go to a class and really learn what African culture (from Africa) is all about. Also, it will help you get more acclimitized to your new role by spending every evening independently, with mostly other black people." "Wow," I can't wait... "Look," said James, "the brochure says they will do a virtual tour of Botswana, Mozambique, Nigeria, and other countries, with lots of food sampling, and even ritual dancing." "It sounds so much fun," I said, "I really don't know anything about Africa, myself, besides what I've seen in a National Geographic magazine..." "You are well on your way to being a fully-functioning black woman," said James, "I will just be so sad to lose you after this summer. Still, you will never forget the time you have had."