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But I wasn' t a submissive! And I certainly wasn't a woman, appearances to the contrary! Over and over again, I kept reminding myself that I was a man. A successful man, who was growing powerful by forcing his will on others. But as I saw myself in the mirrors, circulating among Josie's customers, felt strange hands stroking my defenseless sides, legs, ass, breasts, saw my smiling, feminized face.... I began to wonder! It seemed to last forever, the posing pirouetting, parading. The guests seemed to never tire of my delightfully exposed body, and ordered me into all kinds of bizarre positions to treat their eyes -- and hands! But last, Josie sounded a tiny bell. "Fifteen minutes to closing, every one!" she called. "Please select your purchases and line up at the checkout counter," she turned to me. "0, Darling you may stand by the cash register an curtsy prettily for the customers!" At last, I thought, this awful ordeal is almost over! The knowledge that I would soon be released gave me strength to endure the humiliation of curtsying while practically nude to people who were buying clothes. Time and again, as Josie's kinky clientele pushed dresses, slips and nighties onto the counter, I bobbed subserviently up and down for them. Then, I saw something that made my eyes widen in silent shock A man was standing at the sales counter. He was slightly short and slender, but he carried himself arrogantly, like a man who wants to be thought of as the macho type. He wore an expensively tailored, trendy outfit: cowboy boots, blue jeans, and a beige denim shirt with western stitching. This shirt was unbuttoned nearly to the waist, set off by a brown leather vest and a heavy chain of solid gold. In short, hie whole appearance was that of a little wimp with enough money to convince himself that he looked ultra-masculine--- And he was buying the padded man-suit that Josie had designed for me to wear! I felt myself go weak in the knees. That outfit had been especially tailored to my needs. In fact, it was the only way I had of getting back to my real sex, my identity, my apartment. If he bought it, what would I wear? My eyes searched the store, past racks of seductive cocktail dresses, scanty nighties, lacy underwear and even more bizarre items - -- "Surprised, Dear O?" Josie's voice startled me out of my frightening conjecture. "This nice gentleman, Mr. VanHouck, has decided to buy that suit and make you a present of it! Wasn't that sweet of him?" Fearfully,I nodded "Particularly," Josie went on. "Since he paid me an additional fee in exchange for my promise not to sell you anything else! That suit is the only clothing you can get from me this evening! Why, if this nice Mr. VanHouck decided to just leave with that outfit, I guess you'd just have to get home without any clothes at all!" The nightmare images flitted through my mind again. I saw myself struggling to get down a busy street in this neighborhood totally naked and in a woman's body, clutching my billfold, credit cards and keys. saw myself trying to get a taxi or perhaps trying to call my secretary, standing at a pay-phone while pimps, prostitutes and petty thieves gathered around and watched in amusement. - - I could almost see the laughter in the pretty face of my young secretary at viewing her boss in this fix! Or the stares I'd get from the neighbors in my expensive hi- rise apartment building if I tried to make it up to my rooms looking like this--- "Fortunately," The soft voice of the expensively-dressed Mr. VanHouck broke in on my thoughts - "O won't have to worry about that! I fully intend to give her those exquisite male clothes if ---" He turned to me. "--if you're willing to perform a little service for me, my sweet!" He saw the alarm in my eyes and went on, chuckling. "Oh, its nothing sexual." He assured me. "Not directly sexual, anyway. I just happen to need a date for this evening. In return for attending a party with me -- where, I assure you, you will not be raped -- I shall give you these clothes and even take you back to your home, wherever that may be. Well? What do you say?" Standing there in my bondage and feathers, I wished desperately that I could speak, move my arms, bargain with Josie for the coveted suit of men's clothes, or maybe just take it. But there was no way. Reluctantly, I weighed the alternatives in my mind: Attend a party as the date of this over-privileged pipsqueak, (probably wearing one of those slinky cocktail dresses) or try to get home without him -- and without clothing of any kind! Blushing, eyes demurely downcast, I nodded my agreement. "How nice!" Josie enthused. "You need some more practice as a woman in public anyway, O darling, and this will be the perfect opportunity!" She turned to Mr. VanHouck, my date for the evening. "And what style dress would you like for her, Sir?" I almost passed out when he said: "The outfit she's wearing right now will be just fine, thank you!" Almost before I knew it, we were in his expensive car, speeding across town. I sank my bound arms back in the plush upholstery, grateful for the privacy of the smoked windows, feeling cool air- conditioning on my bare nipples, a quivering, nude bundle of nerves as Bob VanHouck spoke - "Call me Bob," he said, "If you get to spak at all, that is!You've probably surmise trhat this little party we're going to is more on the order of an orgy, but don't worry; I'll tell everyone you're my personal property, and that'll keep the guys from forcing their attentions on you. Just shake your head No when anyone makes a pass at you, and you should be all right." He glanced over at me, his eyes lingering on my exposed breasts. "Boy, are you some hot little number! Casually, he ran a hand up my bare thigh, clear to the hip, and I felt myself go goose- pimply. "This should silence the rumors among those peasants! Once they see you, it'll be a long time before they call me a whining little faggot again!" So that was it! This poor little rich boy was gay -- or bisexual, any way -- and maybe some hint of his personal preferences had got out among his exclusive social set. Even the ultra-rich have their sexual underground, with severely restricted codes of behavior. So this was his joke on them all. He would convince them that he was a real man by bringing an attractive girl, bound and naked, to their orgy. Only, just for his amusement, that girl would really be a man - me! That evening was like some kind of bizarre dream. My arms, bound to my shoulders behind my back, had gone completely numb, so I felt only a little discomfort from my bondage. But my emotional distress was simply overwhelming! As Bob escorted me into the large, secluded mansion where the orgy was in full sway, I felt the hot eyes of men and the curious, disdainful stares of the women around me. Strutting there, with in my feathered hood, cape and high heels, with my breasts flaunting themselves shamelessly in front of me and my bare as swishing behind - - my long smooth-shaven legs flashing as I walked, and between them, my seductive triangular patch of womanhood. I felt a temporary loss of identity, as if I really were a woman, bound and on display as I mingled through the crowd! Moreover, I discovered that my nervous tension was making me even sexier! My flesh was covered with a fine sheen of nervous perspiration that made my body seem to glisten and ripple as I swished about. As the sweat cooled, my nipples sprang up, erect and sensitive. And the false pussy was making my crotch perspire even more, until I was actually damp between the legs! I frankly do not remember much of that party. I can recall being forced to dance with several of the men, who all took advantage of my bondage and feminine nudity to press me up close against them and cop sly feels. I can remember sitting on a couch with a group of curious wives and girlfriends who removed my beak-gag and fed me drinks and sandwiches while they examined my bondage costume and asked me if I was being paid to do this -- or was I just one of those girls who enjoys being humiliated in front of strangers! Bob, my date, was standing nearby at the time, and of course I didn't want to anger him, so I had to smile and tell all those prying females (with their roving hands!) what a great lover Bob was and how his touch just made me feel like woman all over, and how I was willing to do just anything for him, all the while sit ting there trying to look perfectly natural with my arms pinioned behind m and my feminine body completely exposed! Then there was some sort obstacle-course race which Bob insisted enter, where a few of us girls (US GIRLS!?Well, I told you I was terribly confused.) had to crawl under chairs, climb over tables and run a paddle-gauntlet (Oh! My sore bottom!) and even duck-walk between the legs of our host and hostess! But at long last, it was over, and I was back in Bob's car, tired, sore, slightly drunk, and completely confused by the bizarre role-changes I had been put through that day. But one more ordeal was in store for me. I had assumed that Bob would stop the car in some secluded spot, untie me, and let me dress in the masculine suit he had promised. But instead, he calmly drove into the underground parking lot of my condominium! "B-Bob!" I gasped in shock, 'I can't get dressed here! They do security patrols every half hour, and someone might see us parked here!" "That's too bad," he was smiling strangely. Then he leaned over and removed my hood and cape! "Guess you'll just have to walk up to your apartment like this!" A new chill went through me, and I started to protest, but Bob was already out of the car and opening my door! Come on, Sweetie!" He leered, clipping a leash to the gold collar I still wore, "A gentleman always walks his lady-friend to her door!" Before I knew it, I was outside the car, naked except for my collar and boots -- and my wrist-to-shoulder bondage, of course! And Bob was nonchalantly holding my leash as he pulled the suit of masculine clothes from the trunk. I was really frightened now, for it looked like I was in for trouble no matter what happened. Standing around that parking garage (well, actually I was squatting down trying to hide behind the car while Bob fiddled- with his keys!) practically naked in a feminine body was bad enough, but I knew that if anyone saw me, it would be much worse! I mean, even though my hair is fairly long, it was still combed in a mannish style (wearing that hood all evening hadn't helped any!) and it was entirely possible that the security guard or one of my neighbors might recognize me, if they happened to be out at this late hour. How could I ever explain my radically-altered body? Or my bondage date, for that matter? And if we made it all the way up to my apartment unseen, what would this odd, powerful man do to me, a bound she-male at his mercy? My stomach fluttered and my spine turned to jelly at the thought. That short journey up to my apartment was an agony of suspense for me. I kept trying to turn and look around, fearful of being discovered as I tiptoed in my feathered heels. Bob kept leading me smugly onward, to the elevator, then a long, tense ride up to my floor (where the danger of being recognized was much greater) and finally down the corridor to my door. 'Well," Bob said, deliberately stalling as he put the key in the lock. "It's been a wonderful evening!" "Th-thank you!" I stammered nervously, trying to press myself into the tiny recess of my closed doorway. Oh, what if someone saw me? "I'd really like to do this again sometime," he went on. "You look really sexy without arms, you know, and I've always fantasized about having my own personal she=male mermaid! I could tie your ankles together and put a fishtail on you--You'd look really wild!" "Oh, please," I begged, almost sobbing. "I'm not into that! I'm really not-- please just untie me and let me into my apartment! I just hate being out here all naked and tied up and all, with everything like this! Pleeese!" "Okay!" Bob smiled as he unlocked the door, then put his arms over my shoulders. "Give us a good-night kiss now!" he teased. "And make it a good one if you want untied!" Blushing furiously, hating every minute of it, I pressed my red feminine lips to his and felt his tongue invade my mouth as he pressed his clothed, masculine body up against my nude, feminine form. Finally, after a shameful eternity, he broke it off. "Not bad!" He grinned at my discomfort as he causally un-did my wrist- straps, letting my numb arms fall to my sides. "Well, you're untied, so I'II just set your clothes and valuables by the door here. It's unlocked, so you can just walk into your apartment whenever you get tired of showing off your T & A out of here in the hallway! Just remember my offer to come and work as a she-male mermaid on my estate. It's the VanHouck place. I'm in the book!" And he turned sharply and walked away. I would have rushed into my apartment right then, but I found that when your arms get as numb as mine were, they become completely limp and useless. They just hung there by my side as I tried futilely to get them to do a simple thing like turn the door knob. It was no use! Way down the hall, I heard an elevator running, and although it was probably just Bob VanHouck leaving, I panicked to think it might also be someone coming! Goose-pimply with fear and chill, I knelt down and tried to turn the knob with my mouth. Still no luck -- the damn thing was just too big! Finally in desperation, I turned around and backed up to the door. Standing on tiptoe in my high-heeled boots, I could just get my butt up over the doorknob. I shifted my legs around it, blushing at how silly must look -- like a horny broad fucking doorknob! But it worked. I felt the handle turn under my shapely buns and the door sprang open, dumping me inside on the floor! So then all I had to do was crawl oil my knees (my arms were still too numb to be of use, even for crawling with) back to the door, gather up my clothes and valuables in my mouth and tug them back inside, then push the door closed with my nose. At that point, I could have just slumped down on the carpet and slept until my- arms came back to life, but I remembered reading a story once about a girl who had tied herself up in her apartment, just for fun, but forgot to lock the door. In the story, a lesbian sneak thief had entered the poor girl's apartment, used her in every way imaginable, then robbed her of everything she had -- clothes, money, the works: She even had to hide in a closet while movers took her furniture! Anyway, I certainly didn't want anything like that happening to me while I was in this feminized conditione! Carefully, I locked the door with my tongue before sinking down to sleep on the carpet. Three weeks later, I just about had the case wrapped up. Oh, I don't want you to think it was all that simple. I mean, I'm a pretty strong-willed guy, but I'd been through an awful lot in that one night, and the first thing I wanted to do the next day was just forget the whole thing and go back to being a male. I wanted more than anything to get that false pussy off my crotch and let my cock out again. What I definitely did not want was to let myself in for another humiliating night like the one Id just experienced! But when I put on the specially-designed suit that Miss Josie had created, I saw what a clever woman she really was. The suit disguised me perfectly as a man again! With its special padding and built-in breast restraints, just putting it on seemed to transform me instantly back into a virile, confident male! And then I started thinking about my promise to deliver the goods on Kaye Douglas and force her to return those valuable formulas to Harfield and Bitt Insurance. I thought about how pulling this off would guarantee me a senior vice presidency, with all the wealth and power that would bring. I looked around my luxury condo, and suddenly it didn't seem so luxurious anymore. Why, if I I this job right, I could buy the building! And so I made up my mind to stick it out. But I was also determined to move fast and get the whole thing done quickly. I mean, aside from the time and money this was costing me, I just wasn't comfortable as a woman; I couldn't get used to the way my hips switched and my breasts jiggled as I walked, and I was also starting to get awfully horny, with my male organs sealed up inside that false pussy. So I moved fast. Inside of a week, I was living in a small room in Kaye Douglas' hotel in upstate New York. My disguise was perfect enough that I was easily able to pass the "women only" rule and even use the communal bathrooms that served each floor. I established myself there as a career girl, "between jobs", and quickly spotted Kaye Douglas and her roommate, Carla Mell. Kaye was a girl in her mid-twenties, with soft blonde hair, clipped short and curled poodle-fashion, with firm breasts, flat tummy, and long, athletic legs. Carla, her black companion, was taller and more muscular, but with delicate, disdainful features and soft, gently waved black hair that ran down past her shoulders. Both girls seemed to love showing off their figures, and they spent a lot of time down at the swimming pool in the basement of the facility. So it was just a matter of time before I got a chance when both girls were out of the apartment and I was able to pick the cheap lock on their room and search the place. "Hmmm," I thought as I entered their tiny apartment, "Very clever! It can't cost much to hide out here, but no male investigator would ever have been able to get into this room so easily!" Then I remembered with a start that I was a male, underneath this disguise. It made me feel a little odd to think what I had, even momentarily, forgotten all about my real identity. Oh well, no time for that -- my job now was to search Kaye and Carla's tiny apartment. It didn't take long. Aside from the single large bed, there was only a dresser, bureau, one closet, and a kitchenette. Talk about living modestly, the girls didn't even own a desk! And nowhere was there any sign of the stolen formula or the millions that Kaye Douglas must have been paid for it. In vain, I went over everything twice. And then I noticed something interesting. In Kaye's purse, there was a Post Office Box key. And neatly stacked in a bureau drawer were a dozen or so pre-addressed labels for packages, all to a local Post Office Box! Now why would the girls mail anything regularly to a place where already had a post office box? There only one answer: They were mailing something to themselves! And I had a pretty good idea what it was. A half-hour later, I was at the Post Office, using the girls' key to make entry into their post office box. I was wearing a fairly conservative slacks-and-blouse outfit, despite the heat of the day, but I still got a few appreciative stares from the men who passed by -- that was some feminine face and body I had! Inside the post office box, I found pay dirt: a bulky manila package and smaller, business-size envelope. Quickly I took them both out and hurried back to my van to examine them. It was just as I figured: The bulk envelope contained receipts from assorted travellers checks and money orders easily totalling several million dollars That must be what Kaye had done with the money she got from selling the Syn-Flesh formula. She had patiently transferred it to her sister Karen by means of untraceable checks and money orders! A slow process, but a safe one. Karen meanwhile, must have agreed to invest the money in a profitable business -- her brothel -- and arranged to pay back her sister Kaye as soon as the eat died down. I still couldn't figure Carla Mell's place in this scheme, but it didn't matter. It had been a damned clever plan -- until I caught onto it! Almost as an afterthought, I opened the smaller envelope. And what I found in that really raised my femininely-arched eyebrows! There was a check made out to Kaye from Karen, for a few hundred dollars (living expenses, I guess) and an interesting letter: Dear Sis, Just a quick note with your check to let you know that everything is going well at this end. The "business" is practically running itself, and with all the money rolling in, I think we II soon be rich enough that we can gradually "leak" the Six Million that we got from Mammoth Pharmaceuticals for the synthetic skin formula into our private accounts without anyone noticing. Speaking of Mammoth, their head chemist, Dr. Hildegard Hess, has become a pretty steady customer here. She does some really kinky things with the girls, and she'-s been after me to let her use one of them as a Guinea Pig for the synthetic flesh stuff, but so far I've turned her down. She can really be a loving, sexy lady though, when she's not in one of her kinky mood and I think you'd really enjoy getting to know her---sure hope so! Well, take care of yourself Little Sister, and I'II writei n a month. Your loving Sister, Karen Now this was really dynamite! Actual proof that Kaye had sold the Syn- Flesh formula to a large conglomerate And that Karen was financing her "business" from the sale With this as evidence, Harfield and Bitt could not only send Kaye and Karen Douglas to prison and sue them for the money, but w could also bring a claim against Mammoth Pharmaceuticals! The potential profits were limitless! As casually as I could, I sealed up the large envelope and put another address label on it --- this one addressed to Norm Bitt at the Company. My ticket to a VP title of my own, I reflected. But I kept the smaller letter and envelope for myself. It would make nice leverage to get myself into a real position of power! As I left the Post Office after mailing out the package, I saw Carla and Kaye come racing in, worried looks on their faces. They must have noticed the missing key! Now, as soon as they found that their supposedly-safe hiding place had been looted, their first reaction would probably be to cut and run. Well, that might just play into my hands - - A few minutes later, I stopped at a novelty store for some things. As I walked the short distance from my Van into the store, however, I noticed even more avid stares than usual from the men in the street. Then I looked down at myself and discovered the reason! All the time I'd been sitting in that hot Van, checking out Kaye's mail, I had been unaware that I was sweating profusely. Now, my light blouse was plastered to my body, my skimpy bra clearly outlined beneath it! You could even see my bulging nipples! I blushed furiously at being exposed this way, but I forced myself to go ahead with my purchases. Let them gape, I thought. If things worked right, these would be my last few hours in women's clothes! Soon, I'd be able to stop taking the hormone pills that had changed my shape so radically. I could let my body hair grow back and allow my chest and buttocks to shrink back to manly dimensions. Best of all, I'd be able to free my cock from behind its false-pussy prison! I could hardly wait. Ten O'clock that night, I was waiting in my Van, parked where I could keep an eye on the car that Kaye and Carla shared. I was wearing my specially padded suit and a short hair wig that covered my long brown hair. My makeup had been removed and my eyebrows carefully worked over with eyebrow pencil to hide their femmish shape, so that now there was no visible trace of my feminine masquerade, even though, beneath the suit, I still had a womanly body. Sure enough, the two girls emerged from the hotel, carrying their suitcases, looking cautiously around. Perfect! Moving quietly, I slipped out of my Van and snuck up behind them just as they reached their car. "Freeze!" I hissed, pulling a real looking cap-pistol from my pocket. Both girls jumped and spun about to look at me. Then they saw the gun and stayed still. "That's right," I said, trying to keep my voice low and masculine. "Just do as I say and nobody gets hurt," I turned to Carla, Who had been opening the trunk of the car. "Okay, Dark" I snarled. "Climb in the trunk and stand on your knees there!" Carla's nostrils flared in anger, but she obeyed. I tossed her two sets of handcuffs I'd purchased that day. "These go on your blonde girl-friend," I said. "She gets handcuffed to those suitcases, one on each wrist. You do the job, and remember: if either of you starts anything, the other one gets hurt-- Now move!" Reluctantly, Kaye submitted and allowed Carla to handcuff her. When she had a heavy suitcase dangling from each wrist, I turned my attention to Carla. "See the tire iron in there?" I asked. When she nodded, I went on, "Remember where it's at. That way, you'll be able to pry open the trunk after I lock you in! Now I'm going to explain a few things to you two dyikes. "My name is Clark," I began, "And I work for Harfield and Bitt, the company that insures the lab where Blondie here used to work. I have a warrant here for your arrest, Miss Douglas, for Grand Theft. Our company bonded you, and as your bondsman, I have the legal right to transport you across state lines without extradition. The evidence that you stole the Syn-Flesh formula and sold it to the Mammoth corporation has already been mailed to Norm Bitt at our office. In short, Miss Douglas, I have you all sewn up! The best thing for you to do is decide just how much cooperation you're going to give us once I get you to Chicago! All right, Douglas: Climb into my Van over there. And remember, if either one of you tries to get away, I can always get the other one!" Kaye Douglas, her face a blank mask, picked up the two suitcases and climbed awkwardly into the Van. A few seconds later, I had locked Carla Hell securely in the trunk of her own car. A minute after that, I started up my Van, getting ready to pull out and head for the open road. In the back, handcuffed to her suitcases, Kaye Douglas spoke for the first time. "Thanks," she said simply. This surprised me a little, but I made no answer. I wanted to get on the express way and make as much time as I could. I figured I had about an hour. It would take that long for Carla Mell to get out of that trunk and phone Kaye 's sister Karen. And if Karen had Mob connections, as I'd heard, shed have some pretty ugly friends out looking for me in a hurry. But I thought I could elude them. After I'd put some distance behind me, I planned on travelling the smaller, less used roads. I had my route all mapped out and figured I could make Chicago in two days. Little did I know then, just how long it would be before I actually did get back to Chicago, or just how I would end up getting there -- but Im getting ahead of myself. Kaye Douglas and I rode in silence until I pulled off the express way and onto a winding country road. "Back roads," she said softly. "Good idea." "I think--" My voice still sounded high and feminine. I cleared my throat. "I think so," I finished. "By the way, Mr. Clark," Kaye persisted, despite my rebuff. "I said Thanks back there and I meant it. I was starting to think no one was ever going to come looking for me. What a relief to be out of that dump!" "Really?" I wondered briefly if she was trying to set me up for some kind of story about being forced into the formula theft. Then she went on and I stopped wondering. "Really!" she said. "I know this sounds hokey, but I never wanted to have anything to do with stealing that stuff. My sister Karen forced me into it!" Even from behind, she must have sensed the look of cynical skepticism on my face. She hurried on. "She did! Karen knew that I m a--well, that I like girls, kind of. And she threatened to use that knowledge to have me fired from my nice job if I wouldn't steal the Syn-Flesh formula for her. I thought I could do it without anyone knowing, but when they found out about the theft, things started falling apart. I knew it was only a matter of time before they'd connect me with the missing documents. And so I - well, I guess I panicked. I ran to Karen for help and as a favor she hid me out in that All Female Hotel -- Some favor!" "I'd think an all-girl establishment would be just the thing for a --er- woman like you," I commented. "That's just what Karen said," There was bitterness in Kaye's voice. "And she hired Carla for me as a 'companion'. Huh! More like a Jailer! Everywhere I went, that Amazon had to tag along, just in case I got any ideas about going to the Police. I wasn't allowed to talk to anybody, go any place... I was a virtual prisoner in that hotel!" "Well," I smiled. "If that's your story, stick to it. Maybe when we get to court in Chicago, they'll take a couple years off your sentence!" "Don't you believe me?" "Miss Douglas,"I said dryly. "That story is strictly for cheap detective books!" "Listen," she bristled. "Does it make sense that I'd pull a robbery like that? A crime that might be traced back to me? Does it make sense that I'd stay in that dinky fleabag when I could go to Brazil or some place with all that money?" "I'm not going to argue with you," I snapped, "And 'I m not going to trust you out of my sight either, no matter what kind of story you cook up. Get this straight:You're my prisoner until we reach Chicago. We eat together, we sleep together, and if you have to use the bathroom...well, you'll be handcuffed to the sinkand Ill be right outside. You can yell that you're being kidnapped or whatever, but if you do, I can just hold you till somebody calls a cop, then show them thewarrant for your arrest,I've put a lot of work into this case, and I don't intend to lose you by being stupid!" "Well," Kaye sighed, "I guess I can't blame you if you dont believe me. Say, how did you find those papers and everything? Carla and I were watching out for a detective of some kind, but we sure never saw you before!" "Oh no?" I couldn't resist a smile of triumph as I pulled off the, short hair wig that covered my longish wavy brown hair. "Do I look familiar now?" "You!" Kaye 's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're the girl who moved in last week!" Nope," I said easily. "I told you: My names Charles Clark. That female identity is just a disguise!" "But-but you can't be a man!" she sputtered. "I saw you in the shower and you have breasts and-and everything!" Smugly, I told her of how I had worked my disguise, growing breasts and confining my male organs behind a realistic latex working model of a Woman's vagina. Kaye seemed fascinated, pumping me for details on how many hormones I had taken, my training in feminine makeup and deportment. Glad to have someone who would appreciate all my trouble, I told her almost everything, leaving out only that embarrassing episode at the TV Boutique and the humiliating party afterward. "Then-then underneath that special suit, you're still disguised as a woman?" she asked. "Yep!" I boasted, "If we were naked, you probably couldn't tell us apart!" "I wondered why you didn't have any luggage packed in here for yourself." "Don't need any," I replied. "This suit's good enough to get us back to Chicago in, and it's the only one I've got that will disguise me as a man again. I. just left all those female clothes back at the Hotel, since I won't be needing them. I'm through with that Transvestite business! As soon as we get back to Chicago, I'll get a whole new wardrobe and start taking male hormones to get my body back the way it used to be. I'll be able to afford it -- and a whole lot more, once Norm Bit sees how neatly I've sealed this case up!" We talked for a while longer, but Kaye (who proved to be surprisingly charming company!) got drowsy about Two in the morning and started nodding off. About that time, a thunderstorm hit, dousing the road with water, flashing blinding bolts of lightning, and nearly deafening me with roaring thunderclaps. Fierce gusts of Wind rocked the van, and the static-blotched radio was broadcasting tornado warnings, but I kept on until it blew itself out. About Six AM I found a truck stop with a big enough parking lot that no one would mind us sleeping there a while. After opening the windows just a crack, since the storm had passed and it promised to be a very warm day, I checked back on Kaye. She was sleeping peacefully, still handcuffed to the suitcases-Eyes drooping, I slipped off my jacket, eased back the reclining seat, and fell into a deep sleep. I don't know when it was that I awoke. The sun was high in the sky and the inside of the van was like an oven. I sat up and stretched stiffly, then looked in the back. She was gone. I stared stupidly for a moment at the two suitcases with the handcuffs still attached to them. How had she done it? Then I saw my jacket, lying on the floor behind the seat. The little tramp must have slipped the keys out of it! I cursed angrily. I'd lost her! No telling where she'd gone, or how Id ever find her again... And then the passenger door opened and Kaye, looking fresh as a daisy, climbed inside. She must have noticed my stare of disbelief immediately, because the first thing she did was apologize. "Sorry to startle you, Mr. Clark, but you were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you, and I just had to freshen up!" All I could do was stare at her for a few seconds. Finally, I found my voice. "Y-You came back!" I stammered- "Well of course!" Kaye seemed surprised at my amazement. "I told you, didn't I, that I wanted to go with you. I'm grateful to you, Mr. Clark! There is no way I'd ever go back where my sister Karen might get her hands on me again! Now don't you think we'd better get started?" "Well -uh- yeah; I mean-- hang on just a second." Sleeping in the padded trousers and the breast-restraining shirt had proven to be very uncomfortable. And now I had to go to the bathroom. Awkwardly, I shrugged into the padded jacket, making sure the keys were back in the pocket, and put the short-hair wig back over my long tresses. "Ill be right back," I said, climbing out of the van. In the restroom, I put water-on my face, noting that (thanks to the hormones Id been taking) I still had no trace of a beard. Well, that would change pretty soon, I thought, tugging under my shirt at the elastic bands that hid my bulging breasts. Very soon now, I would have my old physique back. But as I came out of one of the toilet stalls, fastening my pants, I got quite a shock: I was face to face with a woman! Her eyes widened as soon as she saw me, her jaw dropped, and she let out a whoop like a ruptured duck. Almost immediately, the door flew open and I saw a burly, middle- aged man in overalls standing in the doorway. "What's wrong Ethel?" he cried. "A man!" she screamed hysterically. "There's a man hiding in here! He run at me!" Confused, I looked back over at the husky man holding the door open. Then, over his shoulder, I saw the word WOMEN printed clearly on the door. "Hey, I'm sorry--" I started. "I must have-- -." The force of habit from my weeks of living as a female must have made me stumble in here by mistake. But how could I ever explain that to this guy? "Mister," the big fellow in the doorway spoke through gritted teeth "You'd better have a good reason for being here, or I'm gonna clean your clock!" How ironic that I should be trying so hard to look like a man again and make a simple mistake like this, I thought. If I were to take off my wig and padded clothing, I'd look right at home in a Ladies Room! I studied the muscular shoulders of the brute in the doorway, and wondered if I'd appreciate the irony in the hospital. And then, like the Cavalry to the rescue, Kaye's voice came from the parking lot. "Charles!" she called. "Charles! Are you in there? What's wrong?" The big man turned to her. "You know this guy, Lady?" he asked, confused- "Oh yes, sir," Kaye gushed. "That is my husband!" "Well what's he doin' in there?" "It must have been an accident," Kaye put a note of urgency in her voice as she went on. "We've been driving since last night, trying to get to Chicago. His brother was in a terrible accident and we've got to get there!" "Well. - -" The man stepped back waveringly as I slid past him. "You'll make better time on the expressway!" "We will?" Kaye grabbed my arm and hustled me away. "Oh thank you, sir. Did you hear that, Charles? The nice man said we should take the express way." Back in the van, I breathed a sigh of relief, despite the heat. "Thanks," I said, trying to cover my nervousness. "You saved me some trouble with that Turkey!" "No problem," Kaye beamed, looking at me almost affectionately. "After the way you handled Carla, I knew you could take that over grown lummox. But I figured we'd make better time if I helped you a little!" "Uh-huh," I hoped I sounded convincing as we drove off. All that morning, we talked as I drove. Kaye told me about growing up on a farm in the Midwest, about the repressive small town atmosphere and the aching loneliness there for a girl who was "different". She spoke of how she took Chemistry and Secretarial courses in High School, dreaming of the day when she could escape her hometown prison and meet other girls like herself. She talked about how happy she had been, working at Mammoth Chemicals, and how important it was for her to try to save her job when her sister Karen threatened her with blackmail. When she was through, I understood a little more about how a basically nice person (even though a little sexually confused) could get into the trouble she had. For my part, I told her a little bit about my childhood. How my mother once punished me for getting bad grades by taking me to the local police station and convincing the officer there to lock me up in a cell for an hour. That incident had given me phobia of jail, prison, and policemen,-- but it had given me something else as well: A relentless desire to get good marks in school -- to get to the top in whatever I did, no matter how much trouble it took! Well, I had risen to the top of my class in school, graduated with honors from college, and now it looked like I was headed to the top in the corporate world. It would be nice to get back to my luxurious apartment in Chicago and make plans to move into an even better one. My new vice-presidency was going to be just a stepping stone on my way up -- I stopped talking. "Whats the matter?" Kaye asked. "That car behind us," I said. "The big black limousine. It's been following us for miles now." Kaye considered. "Of course, there hasn' t been much opportunity to turn off anywhere on this back-road." "True," I agreed, "But it still worries me a lit---" There was a sudden BANG and I must have jumped a foot!