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"Just close your eyes and relax," Missy said, squeezing my hand gently, so as not to disturb the IV in my arm. "You're just going to sleep. Don't worry about anything and left your mind go blank..." I squeezed back gently, and could feel that I was slipping away. I forced my eyes open one last time. Just behind Missy, my wife Lana forced a smile from her visibly worried face and mouthed the words, "I love you...." I'm sure I was conscious for a short time after that, but this was all I remember. Much more vague and ill-defined memories dotted the hours that followed. I would never remember what they were, just that they happened. Somehow. Brief glimpses of what was happening around me as I slept and slept and slept... # # # "Well, well...Look who's back with us...!" They last face I saw before falling asleep was the first I saw when I awoke...although "awoke" was maybe too strong a word to describe my semi-conscious state. I was so weak as to be practically paralyzed. All around me, machines bleeped and pinged. And through my blurry vision, there she was: my best friend, the one who promised she would always be there for me. And she was. Missy saw me try to speak and raised a hand up to stop me. "Shh... You'll hurt yourself. You're very weak right now. I need to tell the doctor you're awake. We were worried about you. Things were a little touch and go there for a while. Rejection problems. They kept you in a coma while they worked things out for you. You've been asleep for eight days now." Eight days? They'd told me no more than ten hours. Something must have really gone wrong, and the thought that popped into my mind must have shown on my face, because Missy patted my hand and smiled reassuringly. "Everything worked out," she said in what sounded like a promise. "Everything." Everything. In my case, that meant a lot. It meant even more than I wanted to digest at the moment. "We didn't know how long you'd be out," Missy said, "and that's why Lana is at work. She wanted to be here, but she couldn't be here all the time." As good as Missy's intentions might have been, it still sounded like she was making an excuse for Lana. Or maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself. "You stay still," Missy said, "and I'll let Dr. Lawrence know you're awake..." # # # During my brief meeting with the doctor, she had warned me not to heaven try to speak, so when Lana arrived shortly thereafter, ours was a one-sided conversation. But that was okay. I just needed her there. "We were all so worried," she said. "There was a point where Carol was preparing us for the worst." This angered me a little, because Carol - Dr. Carol Lawrence, that is - had given me no indication of this when she saw me only minutes before. But this was typical of her. She was always looking to pose herself as the all-powerful miracle worker. And, to be fair, I guess I was a little resentful when she was. "But everything is right where it's supposed to be," Lana assured me, and I was curious about her choice of words. "I've tied up all the loose ends at work. Carol says I can go in for my surgery next week. By that time, you should be up and about." She stroked my forehead. "We made the right decision. I know it..." # # # "I'm so afraid I made the wrong decision," I said, my voice an unrecognizable rasp, an octave higher than it had been. Sitting next to my bed, Dr. Leah Grant nodded sympathetically. I wanted so much to like her, to trust her, but she was the psychiatrist assigned to me by the ConGen Corporation, so there was never a moment where I could let go of the idea that she was obligated to push the company policy when counseling me. "Perfectly normal," she assured me. "In fact, I'd be very concerned if you weren't feeling doubt and confusion at this point. It's perfectly textbook." Suspicions notwithstanding, my guts started to spill. "I mean, I'm lying there thinking, what have I done? What have I allowed to happen? How could I do this?" "These were decisions that you - you and Lana - thought long and hard about, and did not make lightly." "It was an easy decision for Lana to make," I said with a bitterness I didn't realize I had been harboring. "I disagree," she insisted. "And I think you're being unfair. These are life-changing decisions, the kind that are never easy. I've spoken to Lana at length, too, remember. She's scared, too. More than she'll show, sometimes, with that hard exterior of hers." "Tough as nails, that's Lana. Has she seen it, yet?" She raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?" "You know," I said. I didn't want to say it out loud. Finally, Dr. Grant got it. "Oh. No, it's in incubation right now, undergoing nerve regeneration. They say it'll be at least five more days before they can even consider starting her surgery. But if you do the math," she added cheerfully, "that will sync your recover times closer. Which is a good thing." "The doctor says my bandages come off in two days. So I can see....what I've become." "I've counseled dozens of converts," she said, "and I've never met one who wasn't concerned about that moment. And when that time comes and you need to talk to me, all you have to do is call. I'm making myself available to you all day." "Thanks," I said. I knew I was thanking something for doing something she was being paid for, but I also realized that I was probably going to need her. # # # Only Missy could take something which represented crushing anxiety and dread in me and make it seem like a cause for celebration...Which was surely why she was allowed to be in the examination room with me and Lana the morning my bandages came off. Her excitement and enthusiasm was contagious and, certainly helped quell the gnawing that had been grinding in my stomach for days. Missy wanted to invite ALL of our friends to the "unveiling". Fortunately, the hospital administration had drawn the line at that. The nurse who worked at removing the bandages was cheerful and almost as talkative as Missy. "Now, you realize," she chipped, "that there will be a lot of swelling, so what you'll be seeing is not really a final result. But getting these bandages off will certainly help you get back to normal." "There isn't any normal yet," I pointed out. She nodded, seeing my point, and began to snip away at the gauze and tape. I believe Missy's first reaction went something like "Woo-hoo!" when all was revealed. I was in a gynecological examination contraption, my legs spread wide, but for the moment, all I could see was the wide smile on Missy's face and a look of...I don't know, shock on Lana's. In fact, Lana's reaction was so unexpected that it worried me, as I lay there, helpless to see for myself. Later, Lana explained, "Logically, I knew exactly what to expect, you know? But it wasn't until that moment when I realized that I'm staring between my husband's legs and looking at...a twat, you know? It knocked me for a fucking loop, I can tell you. And, of course, then it sort of drove home the point of what I was going to be going through, and, well...it's a lot to digest..." My new vagina really was mine, grown - along with my entire female reproductive system - entirely from stem cells. In theory, this meant that there would be little or no chance of rejection. In actuality, this turned out not to be the case, but I was told that my physicians were dealing with the problem, and I believed this entirely because the company who was sponsoring this genetic miracle could not afford such a monumental failure. Missy held up a mirror for me to see, and I felt a chill go up my spine at the sight. It was somewhat misshapen with swelling, to be sure, but there was no doubt that it was a vagina. Once again, a wave of despair hit me. My God, what had I done? This, I suppose, is the perfect place to say, "It seemed like a good idea at the time..." And it most certainly did. The advances in genetics in just the past five years allowed the ConGen Corporation to market the procedure to bored, rich couples. They were selling the most bizarre of fantasies: A complete biological sex switch for couples. Ostensibly, it was aimed at infertile couples as a chance to be able to conceive, but no one really accepted the premise. The real targets were couples like Lana and me. Not that we were richest all, mind you. We were nothing of the sort. Instead, we were the perfect couple for ConGen to show off what they could do. We were selected from hundreds of applicants, and although it was never discussed why we were selected, I had my suspicions. First, we really did want children, but were unable to conceive. This was a physical problem on Lana's end, and so the organically-generated reproductive system for me was perfect. More than that, though, we were unhappy, dissatisfied with what we were, and very much the reverse of the typical traditional couple. Lana was the breadwinner of the family. I was a house husband with a home-based business. She was strong, I was nurturing. All of these factors came into play when the choice was being made as to who it was to get a free ride from ConGen. # # # My sister Hayley came in from Chicago to visit me. From the start, she let it be known that she disapproved of our decision, but since our parents died, back when we were in our twenties, there was always an unspoken agreement to support each other no matter what. This was no exception. But I think it was a difficult challenge for poor Hayley that first time I lifted the hem of my hospital gown to show her the changes. At first, she didn't even want to look. I insisted. And then she just started, long enough that it was me who got uncomfortable and pulled my gown back down. "Does it...feel the way it's supposed to?" She started blushing. "I mean, you know, for you...?" "I'm not really sure yet," I admitted. "I'm still pretty numb down there. The doctors say that's normal. I've only just had the catheter removed yesterday, so I experienced peeing as a woman for the first time. That was interesting..." "But your not," she said. "Not what?" "You're not really a woman. I mean, from the waist down, yeah, I can't really argue with that. But the rest of you... You're a man with a...you know, a vagina." I nodded. "So far. But I'm still changing. A lot. The male part of me is dying. There isn't any testosterone to sustain it anymore, but it's still clinging on. I can sure feel it, I can tell you that. Physically and emotionally. But they assure me, it will end soon. And that's just the first stage. I mean, I always favored the feminine side when it came to my looks. That's the reason I used to get beaten up in school way back when, remember? Well, once my body is stabilized, I'll go through round two, which will feminine me even more. If I want to." "If you want to?" I nodded. "It's optional because it's mainly aesthetic. It's a genetic shift that softens your skin, thins your body hair out to nothing, widens your hips, grows breasts. The works." "And you'll be doing this, too?" "At first, I wasn't sure. None of the second phase is necessary at all in terms of having a baby, which is really the end game here, if you will. But it does help: the wider hips make birthing easy and increases the probability of a vaginal birth. And, of course, bigger breasts will better facilitate breast feeding..." "This is so weird..." Hayley said, shaking her head. "But I wasn't going to do it at first. I was going to live as just a genetically modified man. It was Lana who changed my mind." "Why?" I smiled. "I think part of it was practical. I mean, she is going to end up very masculine, physically and aesthetically. It's going to be unavoidable once her body adapts to its changes. And so there's that man/woman image that she wants us to fit into, a sense of established normalcy that she wants." "It's a little late for normalcy at this point, don't you think?" Hayley quipped. "But I see what she means," I insisted, "and in a big way, I agree. If we're going to switch, it needs to be an all the way thing. I'm good with that." I sighed. "I don't know how the rest of the world will accept us, especially after ConGen starts parading us out for everyone to see, but even there, I think being true to our new identities is the way to go." What I didn't tell my sister was that one of the first comments Lana had made after seeing my new genitals was, "Baby, you really need a nice set of tits to go along with that..." "There's also," I went on, "this romantic attachment we both have to the idea of the traditional family that we both have, instead of a pregnant man and a woman with a dick, you know?" "I'm not sure I do," she laughed, "but I'll take your word for it for now." She looked at me for a moment. "You know, I think that, with a little work, you'll make an attractive woman." Her compliment meant more to me that I thought it would. "Just promise me," Hayley joked, "that you won't get boobs bigger than mine." We both laughed at the family in-joke: my sister was always known for her impressive bust. "From what the endocrinologist tells me," I said, "I can't make you any promises in that department. It's mostly genetic." Hayley grinned, looked down at her own chest, and said, "Genetics, huh? This could get interesting..." We both laughed, then Hayley got serious for a moment and said, "I guess we're sisters now, huh?" That did it: this was her show of acceptance, and my eyes got all teary, then so did hers and she hugged me and it was a genuine bonding experience. She pulled back and smiled at me. Wiping away a tear, she asked, "So, what do I call you now?l "Lana and I talked about this, and even though there are girls called Joey, we decided to give me a more definitively feminine name. We're going with Josie." Hayley nodded her acceptance. "Josie it is. What about Lana?" "She's going to be Lenny," I said. "But she's not Lenny yet..." # # # "How's she doing?" Missy asked me after I'd left Lana's room. "Scared. They gave her a sedative, so she's mellow at the moment, but she's still worried about how things are going to turn out..." "Poor thing..." "Well," I said, trying, I think, to reassure myself more than anything else, "we were warned a long time ago about the risks. Trouble is, sometimes they don't hit home quickly enough." The male genitalia phase of the process was, indeed the most complex, risky, and uncertain part of the process but the aspect of the procedure which ConGen felt was most necessary to the overall package to make it commercially viable. Because of this, it had been introduced before the technology was one hundred percent ready. As a result, the earliest test subjects met with mixed results, and in fact, Lana's procedure would not have taken place at all had there not been significant improvements in technique over theprevious three years. The procedure had involved "harvesting" my penis, testicles and prostate during my surgery, then subjecting the organs to an intensive regimen involving genetic revisions, stem cell generation of an entire nervous network and a dozen other techniques that I did not comprehend when it was explained to us during our pre-existing sessions. The easier way to look at it, of course, was that they were going to pop off my duck and sew it onto Lana. If it were only that simple. Improvements notwithstanding, the track record for the procedure wasn't all that promising. Out of eleven procedures, only five had been successful. Two of the attempts ended up partially impotent, three totally impotent, and one ended up with the organs simply dying and having to be removed. We sweated through the first stage of Lana's surgery. Ten hours, with no reports as to the progress. Finally, we were told that things were okay, but we were far from out of the woods yet. There was a four hour resting period before a new team of surgeons went to work. When it was all over, Missy had passed out in the waiting room beside me, but popped awake to hear the doctor proclaim success. So far. # # # "How's it going, hon?" I asked, very concerned and not bothering to hide it. Lana was only just coming out of anaesthesia, and looked terrible. But she gave me a weak smile, and with an even weaker voice and a sly wink, asked, "Don't you mean, 'How's it hanging?'" The question was so out of the blue that I laughed out loud for just a second, then fought back a tear. "Well," I said, "the surgeon said that the attachment was a success. There's blood flow, the nerves are containing the way they're supposed to. So far, so good, I'd say." "Great," said Lana. "How's about a quick blowjob, then?" Again, I laughed, but this time it was more for Lana's benefit. I knew she cracked jokes when she was nervous or scared, and that had to be the case right now. I put my arm around her shoulder and hugger her tight. "Hey," she said. "You know what?l" "What's that, darling?l "This is...the first time. The first time we've been together as man and woman. Husband and wife. Only the other way around." "You're right," I said. Lana reached up and squeezed my hand. "Hey there, Josie," she said. "Hey there, Lenny," I answered in kind. It only took a few more seconds before it all hit home, and I really started to cry. # # # "Larry..." said Missy, shaking her head. "That'll take some getting used to." "That's the least of what I have to get used to," I told her, jokingly, but with seriousness just below the surface. We were in Missy's sporty SUV, heading from the hospital towards her house. In total, I had been in the hospital for nearly four weeks, and was glad to be getting out. It was decided that since Lenny would still be in the hospital for at least another week, recovering from the second phase of his procedure, I would spend some time at Missy's house. The next few days were especially important, as I had, two days before, received my secondary treatments, the potent cocktail which would ultimately give me the appearance to match my new equipment. "I'm surprised they're sending you home this soon," Missy said as she drove. "They offered to keep me," I said, "but all they really needed to do was make sure that the skeletal chances went without complications. My hips are killing me at this point, but that's about it. The doctors had me all scared, telling me about cases where patients needed things like braces, physical therapy..." "It's their job to prepare you for the worst." "I know. But I'm ready for all this to be over; just let us get down to living our new lives." "That's kind of wishful thinking, isn't it? I mean once the publicity starts..." "I'm trying not to think of that, actually." Missy got the point and changed the subject. "So, you feel you boobs growing any yet?" She was being playful. "No, not really, but I can feel that something is going on there. I've got some itching going on around my nipples, some tendentious too. The doctors say three more days, and it should happen pretty quickly. I was told to apply vitamin E oil because there's bound to be some stretch marks." "I have some at the house. I'm figuring I can loan you a bra or two until we figure out what size you're going to be." "I'm going to have to go all the way with this now," I said. "Hair, clothes. The works. I don't want to stand out too much, if I can help it." "It'll be fun!" Missy said cheerfully. "We'll get you fixed up for things like clothes, even hair and makeup. Don't you worry." Ironically, Missy's enthusiasm alone was enough to make me worry. But there was one more big concern on my mind: Missy's husband, Dan. And and I were never really close friends, and although my relationship with Missy had always been strictly platonic, I always felt that he was jealous and resentful about how close we've been over the years. Dan was also a bigot and a homophobe, and was never shy about expressing his disapproval over what Lenny and I were doing. What would he be like with me in his own home, blossoming into a woman before his very eyes? # # # "So you went ahead and did it, huh?" I didn't have to wait too long to find out Dan's opinions. "That's right," I said, although it was a stupid question. What the help did he think we were doing for a month in the hospital? Dan shook is head. "Crazy, crazy, crazy." But that was about it for his initial reaction. The truth is, I think he felt uncomfortable even discussing it, which suited me fine, because at that point, I was really starting to hurt. I wanted to take some pain meds, curl up in the bed in Missy's spare room, and escape for a little while... Sometime the next afternoon, when the painkillers wore off, I felt genuinely horrible. My insides, which were still in the early stages of healing, were rebelling on me. My bones ached, which was expected. I had to use the bathroom - still an alien experience - and it wasn't until I'd taken a few steps that I noticed something unfamiliar going on under the night shirt Missy had given me to wear. I had to pull it over my head to see what was going on, and even though I had every reason in the world to expect what I saw, the sight of two perfectly formed breasts made me yelp in surprise. "Are you okay?" Missy called, coming around ththe corner to see me standing naked in the hallway, gawking at my own tits. "Well..." she said. "You've done some growing, haven't you?" I nearly collapsed, and would have fallen were Missy not there to catch me. She drew me a bath and brought me more of my medicine. Soaking in the tub, I noticed immediately that my body hair was falling out, then strand of hair from my head. I started to panic. This wasn't supposed to be happening! Missy was on the phone to Dr. Carol, who told her to get me to the hospital immediately. # # # "Everything's just hitting you harder and faster than we expected," she explained after I was run through a battery of tests. "There's no need to panic, but we're going to have to keep a close eye on things." This was of little comfort as I lay on the examination table ,pulling out handfuls of hair, my guts churning. I was pretty much numb, but still felt that bad things were going on Inside me. "My main concern right now," the doctor continued, "is your breast development. Highly unusual. I'd expect this kind of growth three months from now, but certainly not now. I'm not going to readmit you to the hospital for now, but I want to see you in two days. Then we can decide where to take things from there..." "You're complaining about having big boobs?" Lenny joked when I visited him later. But it was only a joke to make me smile. He fully realized the seriousness of anything unexpected happening. He was very sympathetic to my hair loss - by the time I got to see him, it was almost completely gone - and did what he could to comfort me. For the moment, I got a few moments of distraction by getting my first glimpse of Lenny's new addition. It's an indescribably strange experience to see your own penis from an entirely different point of view. Lenny even invited Missy to take a look. I wasn't sure how I felt about that! Of course, it was very swollen and discolored, and the new skin fusion technique they used instead of stitching looked frightening, but it was, indeed, really attached. "I can't feel anything yet," said Lenny, "but they tell me blood flow is normal, and the nerves are coming together just as planned." I, of course, was not coming together as planned, and so Missy, friend that she was, sought to remedy this as best she could. # # # While I was, I suppose, content to feel sorry for myself and suffer in silence, Missy wasn't having any of it. I was dopey with medication when we got back to her house, and went off to my room to take a nap. I should have known better than to expect her to let me sleep. "Come on," she said a few hours later, waking me with a mischievous grin on her face. "I have a surprise for you..." I pulled myself out of bed, grudgingly, still sore as hell. As I followed her down the hallway, I could feel that my breasts had gotten even heavier, and were sore and itchy. My hips hurt with every step, and there was a constant burning up and down my legs. I was completely bald now, and just wanted to hide myself away and die. I was less than pleased, therefore, when I walked into Missy's living room and saw her daughter, Hannah, and three of her friends, Sally, Suzy, and Beth, waiting for me. I knew them all well, and they had all come to see me at one point or other when I was in the hospital, but at that moment, I didn't want to be around anyone, and gave Missy a dirty look reflecting my feelings. "We're going to make you feel better," she announced confidently, guiding me to a chair. It felt good to sit. The women began asking questions about my current condition. Although I felt hideous and supremely self-conscious, I have to admit that it felt good to talk things through...with "other" girls. And, even stranger, I appreciated each of them for their unique personalities and the different ways they viewed my situation. Most importantly, I realized I needed the support. "I brought this for you," Sally said, reaching into a box at her feet. Sally was a gruff woman in her fifties, not particularly attractive, but always going out of her was to try to force herself to appear sexy. It never really worked. But still, it was no great surprise when she pulled out a long, curled wig. I even remembered it as part of her Halloween costume from the year before, as the ugliest Wonder Woman to walk the earth. It might sound silly now, but I started crying as Missy and Sally fixed the wig to my head. The wig itself was a bit over the top, but it gave me at least a part of the sense of normalcy that I needed so badly at the moment. I found a mirror. Staring at my reflection was, in retrospect, a life-changing moment. The long, flowing tresses were artificial, of course, but the illusion it helped contribute to was quite real because it would be a critical part of the new me. Joseph was, physically, Josie. Now .The complete package had some catching up to do. And there was a powerful irony that it was Sally who brought the wig, because creating a feminine illusion was a challenge she struggled with every day. My features were softer and more delicate than the average male; they always had been. And though the reps at ConGen always officially denied it, I was always convinced from the start that at least part of the reason Lenny and I were chosen for the program were our looks. While Lana never looked what you'd call mannish, her facial features were strong and bold, and only a little imagination was needed to shed that she would be handsome as a male. I was now face to face with what my future as a female was going to look like. And it wasn't a bad start. "Your boobs have gotten that big already?!" Suzy asked, which was significant because she noticed even through the baggy t-shirt I was wearing. Suzy was a thirty-five year old mother of two whose personality could be summed up with the word "dissatisfied." There wasn't any aspect of Suzy's life that she was truly happy with, but when you looked closely at her darling kids, a great, loyal husband and a thriving career, it was plain to see that, for whatever reason, Suzy wanted to be miserable. My first thought when she commented on my bustling was that she was looking for something new to envy. "They've gotten bigger since yesterday," Missy observed, but with concern, not enthusiasm. I grabbed them with both hands. "They're starting to get heavy. I can feel them pulling down." "We're going to need to get you into a bra pretty quick," Missy said. "I'd loan you one of mine, but you're a lot bigger around the chest than me." "You've got to show us!" Beth squealed. Beth was Hannah's friend, and the youngest of the bunch. A little air-headed, quite naive, but almost often the most fun of the bunch. Her unexpected request not only took me by surprise, but also scared up another of the epiphanies that seemed to be hitting me one after another. Back in my Joey days, I'd harbored a secret crush for Beth. Nothing serious at all and certainly nothing I'd ever expressed or acted upon. How strange was it now for her to ask to see my breasts? Was she asking with the mindset that she now saw me as "one of the girls" or was she taking some sort of secret, twisted delight in seeing a man subjected to the trials of womanhood? Impossible to really tell, but the implications of each option were quite different. Whatever the case, I needed no further encouragement. I wanted them to see, in the hopes, I suppose of gaining their acceptance, to assure them that I really was one of them. Disney's daughter Hannah, who was quite flat-chested, mocked resentment. "You've only been a girl for a week and you've got bigger boobies that me! Definitely not fair!." Suzy laughed. "Those are not boobies, Hannah. Just. Knockers. But not boobies." "You'd better hope Lana likes her women stacked," Sally joked. With Sally, there certainly was a palpable delight in my discomfort. I could hear it in her voice. "His name is Lenny now," I reminded her, with just a little more cattiness to my voice than I'd planned." "You definitely need a bra," Missy said, steering the conversation to safer waters. "They need some support, or you're going to be uncomfortable pretty quick." "I'm already uncomfortable..." Missy took a closer look at my breasts." "That's interesting...." "What's interesting?" "Your boobs have not only gotten bigger since yesterday; your nipples have gotten a lot darker." I looked down. She was right. "That happened to me when I got pregnant," Suzy said. "Hmm," Sally said with a well-defined touch of sarcasm, "Lenny doesn't waste any time!" There was a little laughter. Not much. "I can assure you, I'm not pregnant, Sally." That was certain enough. But that didn't mean there might not be other problems." # # # "This is the coincidence of lactation I've heard of from a procedure like yours," Dr Lawrence said, genuinely perplexed. Acting on a suspicion, she had manipulated one of my breasts for a minute or two, then applied some pressure to its nipple. Sure enough, a few drops of clear liquid oozed from its tip. "Is this bad?" I asked. "Not in itself," she said. "It's just...out of the ordinary...which is a concern with new techniques like yours. I noticed you're wearing a bra." I nodded. "Some friends of mine measured me and bought it." Dr. Lawrence nodded in approval. "That's good. They need support, especially since the tissue is so new and your pectoral muscles aren't use to the weight yet. You'll probably was to buy some nursing pads. I expect you'll start leaking if this progresses the way it's going." I nodded, wondering how much worse this could get. "And I'm going to recommend you buy a breast pump and use it as needed." That's how much worse it could get. "There are medications I could give you to dry up your milk flow," she said, "but I think we should allow this to progress, to see where it leads. You're moving through uncharted territory right now, so I want to keep you under close observation." "How long do you want me to...?" "Let you body tell you when you need to for now," she said. I sat through the rest of the visit with one more thing to worry about, but was given a brief emotional lift at the end of the visit when she said, "By the way, you look very nice." I had Missy and the girls to thank. When it became obvious that I was going to need my own bras, one thing led to another and they decided that since I was going to have to start fitting in, I might as well go all the way. And, in spite of myself, I found myself having fun. Disney's daughter-in-law, Candy, was a big help. Candy was roughly my size, and was an obvious choice to turn to. When Missy asked for help, Candy was delighted to oblige, and arrived an hour later with a bag full of clothes and underwear for me to try. And by that time, I had already received my first lesson in makeup application. It was subtle - I wasn't going for sexy, just acceptable - but it made a stunning difference. Hannah took charge of this phase of the operation, and did an amazing job. My only fear was that the first few times I tried it myself, I'd look like a clown. So it was that I arrived for my appointment in wig, makeup, and a simple blouse and skirt ensemble. I didn't want to wear a skirt initially. I thought it would make me feel vulnetable. But Missy insisted, and I was glad she did. I needed to feel like a real woman, and at one point, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored walls of an elevator. Standing next to several other people, I was, at last confident that I fit in. One short bald man made eye contact and gave me a brief smile. Did his eyes dip down to my chest for a split second before he looked away? One more moment of self discovery. I was certainly no knock-out, and I was dressed as conservatively as could be, but just the idea that I could draw some sort of sexual attention from a stranger was so strangely exciting. And what if I'd worn a shorter skirt? Or a top that showed some cleavage? (I certainly had plenty of that now.) The fact that I found these thoughts mildly exciting represented a significant change in my psyche, so much so that when I stepped out of the elevator I made eye contact with my bald friend again and smiled at him as he disappeared behind the closing elevator doors. This was flirting! And it was so easy! I have to admit, I was nervous when I approached the door to Lenny's hospital room. This would be my "debut" as the real deal, so to speak, and wondering what reaction I would get swept me with anxiety. But my fears and apprehensions evaporated after I saw the look on Lenny's face. At first, he didn't even know it was me, and did a classic double-take before his face burst into a delighted grin. "You look incredible!" Lenny gushed, opening his arms wide for a hug. "Dis Missy help you with this?" I told him the story of our little dress-up party with the girls, and he laughed. Playfully, he tugged at the hem of my skirt. "Hey, you wearing panties under there?" "Of course I am!" I giggled, loving his curiosity on the subject. "In fact, thanks to Candy, I have a small collection already!" And then he kissed me, and it was another first because it was a mix of familiarity and something very new and exciting. Lenny pulled his face from mine and said in a soft whisper, "The docs say the nerves are all containing. It could be a month. Maybe even less." There was a genuine lust and desire to his voice, the way he held me, even his breathing, and what was so amazing was the way I responded. Chills everywhere. Hard nipples for sure. The only thing missing was a wetness between my legs, but I knew it was just too soon physically. It would happen. And it would be magical. # # # The breast pump, on the other hand, was far from magical. It was a pain. Literally. Missy had had plenty of experience expressing milk back when her kids were born, so I was once again in her hands. I found myself planted on her couch, boobs out while this infernal device sucked relentlessly at a nipple. "That's milk, not colostrum," she announced after seeing the results of about ten minutes of this torture. "Quite a bit of it, too. We'll bring a sample to Carol. Ready for the other side?" # # # "It's good to be home again..." Lenny stretched out on the sofa and sighed with relief. He was far from completely healed, and had difficulty walking, but was overjoyed to be out of the hospital. I had already been back at the house for a few days. As much as I loved Missy and needed her help, it was getting awkward being there. Dan made no effort to conceal the fact that he considered it a major inconvenience, but I think it was more about how uncomfortable he was around me. His discomfort seemed to increase once Missy got me into my clothes and makeup, which made me curious as to why. One afternoon, he came home early from work and caught me off guard, sitting in the living room in just a pair of panties, working the breast pump and totally flipped out. Missy thought it was hilarious, but I could see that it was a problem. I was glad to leave. It was after I'd gotten Lenny settled in that we had a chance to slow things down and thing about where we were at and where we were going. I think it was overwhelming for both of us, and there was a slight awkwardness I in the fact that, in many ways, we were now over different people, but yet, it was still the two of us. Maybe only a couple who had gone through what we'd been through could understand. In a way, one aspect which was kind of a relief was that sex would have to be on hold for a while. It would still be some time before Lenny could even consider being functional, and I had been warned that any sexual activity for me was dangerous, as the muscular activity of an orgasm could damage my new internal structure. But as I said, in a way, that was good, because it enabled us both to skip over that eight hundred pound gorilla in the room and focus on practical matters. The deal we'd made with ConGen included a year's "allowance," which would keep us from having to work while we were adjusting to our new lives, so money wasn't a big issue. Instead, we talked about things like new wardrobes, how we would deal with friends and family, and sundry issues that didn't seem important until now. Midway through our discussion, I felt my breasts getting heavy and sore; I needed to milk them. Lenny knew about this, but up until now, he hadn't experienced me doing it. It was also true that up until this point, I hadn't really seen an aspect of intimacy in doing it, but now, it made me tingle all over that Lenny wanted to watch me. I brought out my breast pump from the bathroom - I'd gotten into the habit of expressing in a hot tub, which seemed to make the milk flow easier. I sat next to Lenny on the couch and, just a little self- conscious took off my blouse. I was wearing a nursing bra, so it was easy to take out a breast. I felt Lenny's eyes on me. "How big are they now?" "D-cup," I said. "Dr. Lawrence says they'll go down once I stop lactating." "I like them," he said, reaching out and stroking the tight globe of flesh as I attached the suction device to my nipple and started the machine. "They're beautiful. And I won't miss mine at all, now that I have yours to play with." He smiled, caressing the soft flesh. His own breasts had been removed as one small part of the surgery, leaving behind just two tiny scars, less than an inch long. "That looks uncomfortable," he observed, watching through the plastic as the suction tugged and stretched my nipple. "It is," I said. "But I've found that it's better than having my breasts full. I can't wait until the doctor puts me on the medicine to dry me up." I uncooked the bra cup over my other breast. "Look. I'm leaking..." That was when Lenny surprised me by leaning forward and taking my nipple into his mouth. He gently buckled at my breast, and I could feel my milk releasing. It was much more pleasant than the pump. "Well, if you're going to be that way about it..." I smiled, and switched off the motor. "You can do both sides..." # # # "I hope you like it. It was one of Candy's hand-me-downs." Lenny was already in bed, having taken his time making it up the stairs. This had given me a chance to slip into the slinky purple nightgown I'd picked out from the handful Candy had given me. Although my curves would still be developing for some time to come, it was, I thougt, quite stunning on me. It clinched tightly under my breasts, really emphasizing them, and the material was thin enough so that you could make out the bumps around my nipples. The weight of my breasts tugged at the spaghetti straps, and the feeling was decadent. "Wow," Lenny said. "Is that for me?" "Mm-hmm," I said. "I figure your first night home should be a memorable one." "You're beautiful," Lenny said. I knew I wasn't. Now that I'd tapped into my femininity, I found myself wanting more. Was it the hormones my new equipment was pumping through this hybrid body? Partly but certainly not entirely. Now, it was a part of me. It was in my heart as I stood in the middle of the bedroom floor, feeling the heat of a blush on my face from being admired by my...husband. Husband. The idea was still going to take some getting used to. "Come here," he said, and when I got close enough, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me, surprising me with his aggression as his tongue worked into my mouth. Keeping me pressed to him with a firm hand on my back, I felt his other hand venture up under my gown, up the back of my leg to cup my pass, firmly and possessively. That it was a thrill was evidenced by a moan of delight that came involuntarily. That was when I noticed - it was unmistakable - that I was wet. It was the first time, and I was thrilled by the fact that something was working the way it was supposed to. Even though, of course I was forbidden to do anything about it. We finally broke our kiss and I rolled off of him onto my back. "This is going to be good...when the time comes," I said. He reached over and stroked my stomach through the thin, silky material of my nightgown, and I felt my stomach quiver. "All this time," he said softly, "although I wouldn't admit it to anyone, I couldn't help wondering whether we'd made some terrible mistake. But now I know that we didn't. This feels so right to me. I mean, sure, it's strange as hell, and I don't know how long it's going to take me to get used to it. But I know that I will. Somehow, I know." The stroking on my stomach turned into a stroking just below my belly button, and it was affecting me. It took all of my self control to ease his hand away. "Later," I said. # # # It was during that wait that ConGen came e-mailing, demanding what we owed them. Maybe that's unfairly harsh. In truth, they treated us with respect and were always reasonable with what they asked of us. It's just that, at the time, we were still very much struggling with our identities. They seemed to appreciate this, just as we tried to appreciate the scale and importance of the PR campaign which would center around us. The goal was to create the illusion that the conversion package was a perfect solution, that the end results were both aesthetically and functionally perfect. It was stretching the truth, certainly, but not to such a degree that it would feel like a lie. The first phase of production was very low-key and simple. They had to work around the fact that our appearances were still developing, we weren't able to have sex yet, and, by extension, I wasn't pregnant yet. My hair had begun growing back, much to my great relief, and it was softer and finer than it had been before. This was exactly the way it should happen, but I was still reliant upon a wig to complete my appearance. Fortunately, I was able to get rid of Sally's cheap wig. For their first round of filming, the ConGen people provided me with a first-rate version that was so realistic and perfectly styled to flatter my face that I would eventually adopt that same style when my own hair grew in. That first round of filming featured me primarily. The attention was flattering at first, but it was so manipulative that I couldn't help feel at times that I was being exploited. One member of the production team opt-out told me that my breasts were one of the program's biggest successes. (I don't know whether the pun was intended or not.) Sure enough, every frame of footage they shot in one way or another highlighted my boobs. There was always some kind of cleavage going on. (The production team also outfitted me with several bras made to measure, which did not hurt my feelings one bit.) In spite of these intrusions - and since ConGen's marketing wouldn't actually go public for a long time, we were able to keep our relative anonymity - we were able to progress. I don't think we quite realized at the time how much we were craving nothing more that a sense of normalcy, not easily achieved in such an abnormal situation. We established daily routines, our division of the housework. It was an in-joke between us that I was the perfect anti-Semitism, gravitating to an almost 1950s cliche of what a housewife should be, often to the consternation of our much more liberated friends such as Missy and her cronies. Missy, in particular, whose entire life seemed dedicated to butting heads with Dan, seemed befuddled whenever I'd speak knowingly about going out of my way to make Lenny's life better. "That'll change," she vowed. "You'll see." What had already changed - and what maybe represented the biggest initial hurdle in that great quest for normalcy - was the degree to which how our friends saw us. While it was true that the women folk all had fun guiding me into the world of being feminine and, in their own sweet way, "accepting" me as one of them, i'm not so sure that deep down , there weren't some doubts as to the completeness of my new sex. Does that make sense? The example I could give was something otherwise unremarkable and innocuous. It involved Missy's daughter, Hannah, one evening when all of the girls had gathered together to offer me advice on spending the money I'd budgeted for my new wardrobe. (Another ConGen perk that made perfect sense; it was in the company's best interest that we look our best.) I can't really remember how the conversation got brought up, but we were discussing what bra to wear with what top - pretty basic stuff, but at the time, I had no clue - when Hannah blurted out that she was wearing a bra whose straps could be configured in several different ways. Missy blurted out "Show her!" and under the circumstances, it shouldn't have been a big deal, because I'd just spent an hour and a half changing clothes in front of them. But I saw the look on Hannah's face, and knew she was thinking, "I'm not going to take off my shirt in front of this guy..." That moment showed me that I still had a long way to go in many respects. Much more intriguing was our interaction with Sally. In our former lives, I found Sally's unapologetic harshness tolerable, even amusing at times. Get Sally on a soapbox and you're guaranteed an entertaining evening. Lana, on the other hand found her grating. They were not close at all. After the changes, I noticed that Sally was unusually friendly toward Lenny. It didn't seem so much a sexual pursuit as one of admiration, as though Sally wished she could have gone through the procedure herself. Even more amusing was the fact that her approach to bonding with Lenny involved encouraging him to further take command over me. She seemed oblivious to the fact that Lenny and I were working out our roles on an individual basis, rather than Lenny simply taking control. In many ways, I saw Sally's reaction as a reflection of her needs and desires. Still, it was fun when we'd all get together and Sally would encourage Lenny to "put the bitch in her place." Secretly, Lenny and I would scheme to play along with her, just to push her buttons. Did this mean that Sally meant that she wanted her man to take more control? Or did she secretly long to switch roles and exert domination over him? Lenny and I reflected on this, and discussed just how much trouble the poor guy would faced, being hounded by "Sal," with a hard disk and a serious attitude! Of course, a hard disk was what we were both waiting for, but there was no indication as to when that would happen. Things were certainly progressing for Lenny. Tests as to the nerve development of his new addition were all positive, but there was still some time to go. In the meantime, I received the go ahead for sexual activity, which created a somewhat awkward situation...or so I thought. While the thought of me "getting some" while Lenny being left out made me feel self-conscious, so I decided to leave it up to Lenny. If he was comfortable with the idea, okay. If not, I could always buy a vibrator. (In fact, one of my post-surgery rituals was the use of a dictator - quite necessarIly phallic-shaped - to keep my new orifice open. This led to some frustration of my own, since using it for orgasmic purposes was, of course, verboten.) As it turned out, Lenny was not only ready but quite eager to participate in this one-sided trip to ecstasy. The night that I got the okay, I deliberately played things down, and came to bed in a plain night shirt - actually a hand-me-down from my time at Missy's house. Lenny didn't bother playing it cool, and before I'd even settled in, I found my neck being chewed on and an eager hand seeking out a nipple through my night shirt. (One determination I had made even prior to being declared sexually viable: my nipples were incredibly sensitive and an instant turn-on switch for me. Lenny, apparently, remembered this.) He played things slow, wanted to make me simmer, and we both knew it. The night shirt created a specific set of barriers - I offered to take it off, but he wasn't having any of that - that Lenny slowly tackled. Since my help was rebuffed, I had little choice but to lay back and enjoy. It was during a long, tongue-twisting kiss that my attentive husband made a swift move which slid the hem of my night shirt high up my legs, his nimble fingers ticking my thighs and making me squirm just a little. "You're wearing panties?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "l always wear panties to bed," I said. "Yeah, but I figured tonight..." He realized that his point led absolutely nowhere, so he turned his attention elsewhere, specifically to running his hand up my thigh - triangles and gooseflesh, folks - and applying just enough pressure to indicate that he wanted my legs apart, and I've got to tell you, there was nothing subtle at all about the way I spread. I was a hungry woman. But still, I had to wait. Lenny let his hand rest on the gusset of my panties, but did nothing else for the moment. Involuntarily, I moaned, wanting more, but he wasn't giving in. He was going to toy and tease, and drive me crazy first, and it was so bad that I was practically swimminswimming in my own wetness now. I fought the urge to grab at his hand to make it do something when I felt him apply just the smallest amount of pressure, moving hishis finger in a slight I w circle, and it was enough to make muscles I'd never use before seize up and force a decidedly un- ladylike grunt from deep in my chest. Remember, I didn't know what a female orgasm felt like. Was this it? As it turned out, the answer was, "hell no." I genuinely believe Lenny would have continued doing this forever if I didn't whisper with a shudder, put you hand inside my panties... Do I have to beg you?" "No," he said, and pulled the crotch of my panties to the side. I trembled as he lightly ran the tip of his finger - slowly, of course - along the length of my slit. "Oh, baby, you're so wet," he whispered, and true enough, we both heard the sound of wet sickness as his finger moved. He wasn't lying. I knew Lenny was using past experiences to drive me half crazy, so he must have known what it would do to me when he began tracing slow lazy circles around my Clint with his slick fingertip, but I didn't know, and I found myself screaming out loud as my hips began to buck against his hand. This was it, I thought as my stomach muscles contracted sharply and wave after wave of pleasure was wracking me. I passed out. When I came to, Lenny was holding me. "God Damon, baby," he said, a smile in his voice. "I wasn't expecting that..." I was, for the moment, either to stunned, too confused, or too spent to formulate a reply. After some rest, Lenny surprised me by lying down with his face between my legs and trying his hand (or, more precisely, his tongue) as oral sex. I won't say this first effort was stellar (he would get better), but he certainly got me where I needed to go. Unfortunately, this would be my last climax for the night. After the afterglow, I experienced some abdominal discomfort, and considering I had just gotten the go-ahead, I wanted to be cautious. "What was it like," I asked Lenny later as we spooned in the darkness. "Making you come?" "No," I giggled. "Eating pussy for the first time." I asked the question because at one time, a long while back, we had considered trying a three some with another girl, but Lana had decided against the idea because she just didn't think she could bring herself to going down on a girl. Lenny's performance belied that notion. "I think we need to shave you," was his comment. I slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "That's not fair and you know it!" I said. And he did know it, remembering back not too long ago of my pleas to get Lana to go "bare down there," efforts which were always rebuffed. "Yeah, but things are different now," Lenny said. "Hell yeah, things are different! The twat is on the other foot!" I laughed. "I know," Lenny said, kissing me on the cheek and running his fingers through my pubic hair. "And that's the way it should be." We kissed and he added, "but you know, Sally says I need to take control of our relationship." "Oh, she does, does she?" "Yep." "Sally's been awfully buddy-buddy with you these days," I teased him. "She has at that," Lenny agreed. "Maybe she's hot for you..." Lenny looked at me and smirked. "I wouldn't fuck her with YOUR dock," he said. It took us both exactly three seconds before the irony of what he said hit home and we exploded in laughter all all once. After we recovered, Lenny commented, "Actually, I think you're the one she wants." I blinked. "Say again?" "Not in a lesbian kind of way, Lenny corrected himself. "I mean she wants to be a man in the worst way. What you and I have gone through has shown her the possibilities, shall we say. In a way, she's living vicariously through me." "I wonder if Kevin knows it," I said, referencing Sally's long time, long-suffering boyfriend, a guy in a perpetual battle between Sally's constant ball busting and preserving his own machismo. "Imagine what the poor guy would have to go through if he and Sally switched." "Spankings and anal sex, apparently," Lenny said. Of course, that deserved a look which demanded an explanation. "You should hear the suggestions Sally has on how I should deal with you." "Spankings and anal sex?" "That's just the beginning," Lenny said. "She really wants to see me dominate you. I don't know where it came from, just out of the blue. Projecting her fantasies on to me, I guess. Kind of weird." "And what do you say to these suggestions?" He shrugged. "I never took Sally seriously before we changed. Why should I start now?" "You ought to lead her to believe you're taking her suggestions. See what kind of reactions you get." "So do you want to be spanked or butt-fucked? I it's the latter, there will be a short wait." Quickly, she added, "And don't go whining about a double-standard again." "Don't get your hopes up too high there, sport," I said with a wink. "But if you want to give me a whack on the butt the next time Sally's around, I think I can accommodate you." # # # The mild abdominal pains I had experienced after those first intense orgasms were not my reproductive organs rearranging themselves, but simply the start of my first period. I won't get all melodramatic on you here. It wasn't awful, just something to be dealt with. The only unusual aspect of it was that my milk came back, but Dr. Carol assured me that it was nothing to worry about and gave me some meds to take care of it. Our next quantum leap in development occurred about a week later. It was a Saturday morning, and Lenny and I had decided to take a trip to the local farmer's market, one of our weekly rituals during summer. As we were getting ready, Lenny emerged naked from the shower just as I was bending over to get something out of one of the drawers. Still in my nightgown, I guess I presented an irresistible target, for the next thing I knew, I heard Lenny shout, "Sally sent me!" and felt a solid whack on my posterior. "Hey!" I shouted, standing up quickly and rubbing my stinging behind. "You said..." "I know what I said. I just didn't expect you to be so enthusiastic." "So I shouldn't do it again?" he asked. "I didn't say that." "Interesting. So what are you saying?" he asked with a mischievous raised eyebrow? It was a deeper question than either of us realized. I started to get dressed. I liked it when he watched me get dressed. That, plus the slap, I think, made me more inclined to be introspective. "I think," I began, "maybe it goes back to before any of this started. You always were the stronger of the two of us, and I think, in a big way, that our traditional sex roles never allowed me to be who I should have been. It wouldn't have worked. I would have been seen as a wimp or just as henpecked and weak. I was always afraid of that. Of how the world saw me. It just wasn't acceptable. "Didn't it strike you how easily I slipped into the subservient role as your wife? Or did it maybe just seem so natural that you never even noticed?" Lenny pondered this. "Maybe it wasn't so obvious." "To Missy it was. And probably what planted the seed in Sally's mind was seeing how it just fell into place for us." "Might be," Lenny conceded. Then, in a lower tone of voice, he asked. "So what is it you're trying to tell me here?" Actually, that was a hug e question, and I felt the butterflies building in my stomach just considering an answer. "Just that I like it when you're in control, and that things like that little spank just now really is a turn-on for me. But it's important that you're not doing it because you know I like it but rather because you want to do it." I made a nervous laugh. "This is getting really deep and I didn't mean it to." "You're fine," he assured me, taking my hand. "I think maybe I didn't think about things like that, deeply enough." "So am I surprising you?" "A little, maybe," he said. "But not in a bad way." I surprised myself by getting a little emotional over my confession, but shook it off with another nervous laugh. "I wonder what old Sally would think of all this." "I think she'd be really jealous. Or," he faded with a wry grin, "she'd want to figure out a way to join in." That discussion represented a true turning point in our relationship, though if you're expecting whips, chains and nipple clamps from here on out, you're going to end up disappointed. Instead, it was the dynamic that changed between us. Lenny felt freer to take control and I enjoyed the freedom of being guided and loved. As for the spanking - of course, I couldn't just ignore those, right? - it was one of those that resulted in our next evolution. I'm almost resentful that Sally could play any role in our love lives, but I have to confess that after Lenny and I had come to our deep understanding, I found myself somewhat obsessed over the idea that Sally find out. This secret was so shameful to me that I even downplayed it to Lenny, but it was there nevertheless. Maybe it was a deep-seated exhibitionistic streak in me, or the idea of making Sally jealous. I can't really tell you. What I can tell you is about the dinner party we attended at Sally's house a few nights later. The whole grand was there, spouses and all, and the atmosphere was jovial and light, with more than a few adult beverages to further enhance the fun. As a matter of fact, it was the first time I'd really consumed any alcohol since the big change - I was never really much of a drinker anyway - and it hit me pretty hard really quickly, which resulted in the first notable topic of conversation. I was wearing a white peasant blouse, the shoulders of which had a habit of falling down unless I paid close attention. When they did, just a little more skin was revealed than maybe there should have been, especially in the cleavage area. Not a big deal in itself, but the reactions of some of the husbands drew some interesting commentary from the wives. Poor Dan took the worst of it from Missy; when, at one point, I was helping Sally carry a tray to the table, my errant blouse slid down my shoulder and I waswas unable to fix it until I reached said table. Dan got a real vengeful, which Missy noticed. "Well if your going to ogle her boobs that much, Dan," Missy said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "you might as well have the courtesy to slip a dollar or two down there!" Everyone laughed, except Dan, who sputtered and fluttered, and me. I felt myself blush a little. It was nice. But the significant moment of the evening came later, as we all gathered in Sally's living room. We were all pleasantly inebriated, all except for Lenny, whose medication did not permit him to drink. At one casual point in the conversation, Lenny said to me, "Go and fix me a Diet Coke," and the way it came out sounded like an order. I'm not sure it was intentional, but right after he said, our eyes met and we both immediately had the same idea. "Fix you own Diet Coke," I said, with just the right amount of defiance in my voice. There was a sudden tension in the air, as though everyone was about to witness our first fight. "I said," Lenny repeated, "fix me a Diet Coke." I was even more ominous, I think, that he didn't raise his voice any higher than with the first request, and all eyes were on me, wondering how I would reply. "And I said..." That was as far as I got. Even though I was expecting him to do something, Lenny caught me completely off guard, grabbing my wrist and yanking me off balance so that I fell over his lap. It was perfect, and put me in the optimum position for Lenny's hand to come crashing down on my defenseless hind end. I was wearing a thin dress and nylon panties, so I had little protection in that area, so that when Lenny delivered five very serious smacks to the exact same spot, not only did it really hurt, but everyone in the room knew it. So maybe Lenny over did it a little bit, but I was determined to play things to the hilt. I got straight up and, without a word, headed straight for the kitchen. I couldn't hear what Lenny was giving as an explanation, but I heard him mention something about "traditional family values," which I thought was a hoot. I returned from the kitchen with a Diet Coke. I'm absolutely certain that Missy expected me to dump it on Lenny's head, as evidenced by the look on her face when instead I merely sat down next to him. "Thank you, dear," he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. There wasn't much more conversation that evening, and the party broke up soon afterward. As Lenny and I were leaving, Missy pulled me to the side, and with some urgency in her voice, said, "I'll call you tomorrow!" I'll just bet you will, I thought. When we got to the car, Lenny and I exploded with laughter at the reactions we got. "My pass is still stinging!" I giggled as we kissed. "Damned right," Lenny said. "I don't mess around." "It was exciting," I admitted. "Good, be cause there's more to come," he said, and - I'm being honest here - I got chills. Who can explain this kind of sexual excitement? Then Lenny said, "Baby...I felt something." "Me too," I said. "About five good whacks to my butt..." "No, that's not what I mean," he said. "I mean I felt something...down there." I realized all at once what he was saying. "Down there? You mean...?" "Uh-huh. I mean, it's not, you know, the big, big show, but it's something that wasn't there before. I can't really explain, but..." He didn't ha