Transition Machine
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Not A Destination: The Transition Guy - Chapter 8 free porn video
Chapter 8: ...Not a Destination
9/11 changed everything - especially for Henry and Alethea. Technically
speaking since they were in London, you would normally call the 11th of
September 2001 as eleven-nine two thousand one. But, there was nothing
normal about this day when the planes hit the towers and brought them
down. The couple noticed the hubbub brewing about 14:30 as they were
having a late lunch. They were aghast.
They tried calling Sofia and wanted to talk with the kids but it was
impossible to get service on the handi-mobile they had rented. They
went back to their room but couldn't get a trunk line to the States
through the hotel phone either. Switching on the telly in their room,
information and intelligence was confused but continued to trickle
through into the evening. Not scheduled to leave until Friday 19
September, they tried to switch to an earlier flight. With each passing
day, they were frustrated in trying to do so. Their flight was
cancelled and like everyone else, they fought for days to be
rescheduled. Finally on Tuesday 23 September at 19:00, they were
finally on their way across the Atlantic, albeit to Toronto, then they
had to change to a plane to Pittsburgh, before finally taking another
plane to Philadelphia. It wasn't until Wednesday mid-morning. They
drove to Sofia's to pick up Adrian and Alexander. Right away, Alethea
saw a bruise on her mother's cheek and noticed that her speech and walk
were both a little off. It was then she learned that her mother had
fell to the floor unconscious the previous Friday. Adrian had actually
managed to dial 911 and explain that Grandma was on the floor and
wouldn't wake up, so EMS was sent over. The bottom line was a mild
stroke. This was during the period when Henry and Alethea were still
concentrating on getting a flight home. They did speak with Sophia
Saturday afternoon (evening in London) but since they were conveying
their frustrations and giving her the flight info they finally had
gotten from the airline, they found nothing unusual in her one-word
answers. For her part, Sofia said nothing as she didn't want to worry
the couple. At any rate, Sofia had her doctor's instructions for
recovery. The kids for their part were more worried about Grandma than
they were about anything else. They heard some scary stuff about big
buildings in New York being knocked down by bad guys using planes but it
was too abstract to really register with them. If only that could be
true for Henry
With every passing week, Henry became less and less concerned with his
business responsibilities and more fixated on what he characterized as
the Nazification of America. Henry always had keen analytic insights
and an eye for spotting cover-ups, fallacious logic, inconsistent data,
and playing fast and loose with the facts. All of it was coming not
only from the Bush Administration but co-opted media and Internet e-mail
onslaughts as well. It seemed like an orchestrated effort to convince
America that to be fearful, angry, and xenophobic. Anthrax was talked
about by media experts, then actual anthrax attacks appeared. We
decided to hold Afghanistan responsible for the attacks by 3 Egyptians,
15 Saudis, and a Yemeni. We decided that 9/11 gave us the right to
attack anyone pre-emptively - especially Saddam Hussein - to make
America "Safer." We decided that the solution to the Terrorists finding
a chink in America's defense was not to improve our defense as much as
it was to prove that we weren't afraid to kill as many Muslims as it
took to earn their respect because they perceived civilized behavior as
weakness and only "respected" shows of force. None of it was logical or
consistent with the actions of a more evolved civilization. Henry
collected fact after fact misrepresented in the media and by the
Administration being used to sing the siren song of war. He became
obsessed with doing so. Obsessed with trying to save America's soul and
trying to stop his best friends from turning into barbaric super-
nationalists like the Nazis did, he posted, published blogs, and spoke
to anyone who would listen.
Alethea became worried, really worried. Dale and Keith heard Henry and
accused him of turning traitor. Keith joked, "I knew the guy wished he
hadn't been born with balls but now he wants all of us to cut our balls
off. Doesn't he understand that this is no time for pacifism? This is
a time America needs to speak with one voice."
Dale wasn't nearly as kind, "Get rid of him, Thea! He's toxic. He's
always been a borderline pervert, but now he's becoming a traitor. And
this is no time for traitors."
Alethea wanted to stand up for her husband but in her heart, she felt
Keith and Dale were right. Not about the pervert part because that had
been integrated into their lives well enough she had been at peace with
it before Henry became obsessed with the war and finding conspiracies
everywhere. At Thanksgiving, he got so wrapped up in trying to prove
how Bush was lying about the Daisy Cutters being dropped in Afghanistan
and covering up tens of thousands of civilian casualties while bombing
UN medical facilities, he lost it with Dale, shouting that she was
stupid. He even got loud and rude at Sofia, chiding "there are none so
blind as those who will not see." Sofia was visibly upset, sat down and
passed out on her chair. Henry tried to apologize and when she woke up,
Sofia accepted it but damage had been done, most especially between
Henry and Alethea.
Next, it took a toll on the business. Four different clients learned of
the blogs and posted replies to editorials and questioned CEO Alethea
about company Founder Henry. The bottom line was that the company lost
two of the accounts but Alethea was able to save the other two. In
order to do so, she f suspended Henry from an active role in the company
for three months limiting him to an internal consulting role with the
company's engineers and actuaries. He also had to submit to twice-a-
week therapy with a psychiatrist and to represent in writing from Henry
that his opinions were his own, not the company's. There was another
stipulation. He would write no more blogs or articles about the war and
politics. Henry resisted but Alethea insisted she would resign as CEO
if Henry didn't comply. Henry told her he was sorry and accepted her
terms. Alethea let him know he had apologized a lot lately but it
didn't seem to change his downward spiral. She said, "I really don't
understand you these days. You're the only one I know who opposes
America waging war to defend herself. Do you hate freedom?" She
continued, "I'm going to need to fly out to the West Coast to wrap out
those accounts we've lost and de-brief our consultants. You are now in
charge of Adrian and Alex full time. Remember no more writing about
the war!"
Henry was frustrated and scared but knew Thea was right. Impotent to
educate his friends, relatives and countrymen, he grew depressed
watching hatred, fear, and vengeance replacing life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness in their hearts. So, he immersed himself in
tending to the children, taking them and dropping them off at
Kindergarten. Therapy began giving all parts of his being more insights
into what was happening to him, or should I say her. Irene was the
goddess of peace and his best way of escaping the madness of war. When
she'd put Adrian and Alex down for their naps, she'd light candles in
the bedroom, touch up her toenails, put on her wig, bra, falsies, and
make up, and relax in meditation. She felt so much more at peace.
Alethea, conversely, grew more and more concerned. They had agreed that
only Henry would be seen by the boys, especially since they were now
five and more cognizant. Yet, on days she came home when the boys were
still awake, she could still see traces of eye shadow, lipstick, and
feminine jewelry on him. She never saw him in anything but his ladies'
jeans, shirt, sneakers, and ankle socks. She was losing her husband.
Then she suffered a more profound loss. Sofia had another stroke, then
lapsed into a coma, and after two weeks, then died. Alethea was
devastated, and sought Henry's shoulders for consolation but found
limpness instead. He cried but could not provide the strength she
needed to support her grief. In fact, he seemed distracted, even when
serving as one of Sofia's pall bearers. Later, in the bedroom, she lost
it. Something happen that made her snap, something that would have been
no big deal under normal circumstances, but right now, she needed Henry.
A husband should be there for his wife when she loses the woman who gave
her birth. Henry always had worn male underwear and removed his toenail
polish when wearing suits before. This time of all times, he did not.
He wore black tights, pink toenail polish, and pink panties. She needed
Henry but got Irene masquerading as Henry. It was too much for her to
handle and she went ballistic.
"Out!," Alethea screamed, "I can't look at your sorry sissy face a
moment longer. Get out of here!"
Henry was shocked, "You don't mean that. Where would I go?"
"For now, just move into the office - with all Irene's things. I don't
want to see any of them and will throw out what is left. I am going to
visit with Dale and Keith and get some real support. I'll be back about
11'ish and want to see no signs of you or Irene in MY bedroom when I
return. Is that clear?"
Henry meekly nodded his head, eyes cast downward. Nothing to do, he
reasoned, than to wait out this storm and be prepared to be there for
Thea when she was willing to let him. As fate, God, and the flow of the
rivers of the universe would dictate, that day never was to come.
Two months later Henry's official suspension had been lifted but Alethea
didn't want Henry around the offices when she might have to be there and
was even embarrassed at the thought of Henry around co-workers
physically. She had no confidence in him anymore, and personally found
him a pathetic wuss bordering on disgusting. She directed to have all
contact by phone and IM and to avoid video conference except when
absolutely necessary. This suited Irene and what was left of Henry
fine. Four months later, Henry noticed online that Rice University's
School of Engineering was sponsoring a three-day symposium in Houston
during the first week of May 2013. He asked and was granted permission
to attend on behalf of the company. Alethea was relieved to have Henry
and Irene both out of the house and thought three days as Henry might do
him some good. "You never know," she thought wistfully, "maybe he'll
come back to me like he was before the attacks." Instead, the result
was the point of no return.
That wasn't going to happen. Under her therapist's care, she had been
taking a daily dose of mild female hormones to put her at peace with
herself and had also observed a strict diet, easier to do than normal
because she was very depressed. Henry had become depressed beyond
redemption and even expressed suicidal urges to the therapist. The
recommendation was for hormonal therapy because Irene was the ticket to
survival and she needed to be at peace with herself and accept who she
was. Irene asked to start slow because she was not yet ready to give up
on Henry altogether. The psychiatrist and hormone specialist both
acceded to her wishes.
After the first two days of the conference, Henry was bored stiff and
needed some relaxation. Irene left the hotel in a shopping mood and
decided that what she needed to do for a change is throw caution to the
winds. No one knew her or Henry down here, least of all out in
Houston's Galleria. What she really wanted was some new jewelry and
shoes, neither of which she had a chance to buy since returning to the
US from London. She found a stunning antique brooch in Things
Remembered, then scored a great white gold ankle bracelet with diamond
chip studs at a clearance sale at Weiskopf Jewelers. It turned out to
be the costliest bargain in her life. In paying $300 cash for the
bracelet, she got the cashier's attention who diverted Irene's attention
then then lifter the wallet from her purse. Instead of heading back to
the hotel, she remembered seeing on the net that there was a Jimmy Choo
outlet out in the vicinity of Houston International. She headed on the
highway in that direction.
The Iraqi war was in full swing and the new Homeland Security office had
inklings of a potential terror threat. A security checkpoint was
stopping all cars heading out of the city toward the exit for the
airport. It wasn't until she was stopped that Irene realized she had no
wallet and was forced to give the officer her rental agreement from the
glove compartment; the agreement was under the name Henry Lewin. A
check was made with Homeland Security. Henry had a file as an anti-
government protester of questionable patriotic allegiance. The Houston
Police Department (HPD) was ordered to detain Henry until a full
security check could be run. When the Homeland Security official was
informed of Henry's attire, he was amused and made a notation in the
file informing HPD that in that case, they wanted to make sure. The
security check would probably take fifteen to thirty days. During that
time, Henry would be held in a Harris County Short Term Correctional
Facility.
Henry was arraigned, fingerprinted, and processed. Irene's clothes,
jewelry, shoes, and wig were put in storage, but Irene's painted nails
and makeup still remained when Henry was escorted to the cell he would
be sharing with three other prisoners. Two were harmless enough, one
there for missing child support and another for being drunk and
disorderly. The third, Lou, had robbed a man at knifepoint; it was his
second offense. This facility, built to hold prisoners for up to 90
days before some would be taken to longer term facilities and about 70%
would be released for time served. Lou was cocky and wasted no time
starting in on the new girl, even before Henry could request a basin
from the guards with soap and water to remove the makeup. Henry was
informed by a guard that nail polish remover required a special
requisition and would take "awhile."
Lou started in on Henry with wisecracks, curses, and questions. Henry
answered Lou's direct questions with "Yes, Sir" and otherwise sat mute
with eyes downcast. Lou wanted to know if Henry had a girl's name when
dressed as a sissy and was told it was Irene. Lou cracked that he
looked a lot more like an Irene than a Henry. He also said that he
hated F---ing Faggots but he heard their mouths could be useful.
During Henry's first night in the cell, Lou climbed down to Henry's
lower bunk at about 2 AM with the lights off. Henry felt it and woke
up, having just been able to get to sleep an hour before. Lou wasted no
time in getting on Henry's flat mattress and straddling his belly.
Moving up to Henry's face, he said, "I'll bet you love to suck cock,
don't you?" Henry said, "No, sir. I don't enjoy it."
Lou: "Yeah, but since you know what it feels like, I'll bet you can do
it real good." Henry's eyes turned downcast, knowing that would happen
next was inevitable. Lou continued, "Well, either way, Irene, you're
going to suck me off right now." Irene began slurping, giving Lou the
best blow job she could, starting with butterfly kisses on the top of
the head and up and down Lou's shaft, calling on the memory of her early
experimental days in college. Cradling his huge testicles carefully
,Irene milked Henry and even squealed , "They're so big," knowing that
would heighten his arousal and probably expedite the process. Then she
got down to real business, licking gently the nerve endings on Lou's
thick cockhead, then going all the way and deep throating him. Her
tongue traveled up and down sensually while she made guttural sounds and
soon was rewarded with a river of Lou's cum. Lou whispered, "That's a
good girl. You passed your test! You'll learn that I'm not all bad as
long as I get what I want." He climbed back into his bunk.
Things got much worse. The detectives at HPD did their research
overnight and read a few essays still available on the net. Detective
Lieutenant Bolger exclaimed, "A tranny is disgusting but it's a
sickness. I can have some sympathy for sick sissies, but not for
outright cowards and traitors." Passing it around the squad room, then
sending it to his friends at the prison as well as to reporters at a
local tabloid and the Rice University paper. He sent a picture of Irene
en femme when arrested along with it. Bolger exclaimed, "Can you
believe this shit? That THING is disgusting and an enemy of America."
The tabloid and college paper both published a story about the arrest
and holding of a suspected terrorist sympathizer with Irene's picture.
The guards left copies turned to the photos on the table tops in the
lunch quarters and the prison library. During recreation time in the
afternoon, Henry found himself taken to a corner and gang-raped up the
butt hard and fast. He counted about 7 cocks. He felt worthless and
doomed. It was easily the most painful experience of his life. HE felt
torn apart, aching more than he ever thought possible. He almost passed
out. Finally, the last con, Paco, let Henry fall to the ground, then
came over to his face. Henry heard something other than grunts for the
first time since being shanghaied into the corner.
Paco shouted, "Suck it, bitch! Suck this disgusting blood, shit, and
cum off my cock. This is your fault, you Sand-N***er-loving sissy
bitch!' Henry complied, his long pink nails fondling Paco's balls.
This time, he was rescued. A 6'6"" African-American con named James
came over and told Paco that's enough. Paco looked up, recognizing
James, and stopped. James told Henry to let go which he gladly did and
Paco walked away.
James laughed, "I guess he had enough of me in our last row." Then
James said, "I'm sick of this phony patriotism and America-must-speak-
with-one-voice crap myself. Whatever happened to freedom of speech. I
read what the paper said you wrote. You're no traitor and you're no
coward. You had the courage to speak out for the truth. You just
picked a suicidal time to do it. America can't handle the truth right
now."
Henry was amazed. James got it. He actually understood. It was the
first time anyone outside Irene's tight circle of friends got it and the
only male other than Clark. James then told Henry he had some pull
with the guards and would try to get Henry moved into his cell which
held just one bunk with two beds. As exhausted and near unconsciousness
and bruised and beaten as Henry was, he was so grateful he started
crying.
"There, there, guy. Don't get all mushy on me. Not in public anyway,"
James laughed. It was a gentle giant's understanding laugh. James made
sure Henry got the proper treatment and stayed that evening under watch
in the hospital's infirmary. The next day, Henry was transferred to
James' cell. Finally the nail polish and adhesive removers were brought
to his new cell, and Henry was able to remove the last of Irene's
identifiers from his person, unless you considered the tampons he needed
to wear and change in his still-bleeding rectum. Later, when he finally
saw a mirror in the lunch quarters, Henry realized that wasn't quite
true. His face was softer, his torso was curvier, and small breast
mounds began to form even though he had lost 70 pounds in the past year.
He knew that the combination of hormones and depression were slowly but
surely erasing Henry even when he was presenting as male. He shared his
feelings with James and started crying.
James chuckled, "Weepy, aren't we? Don't worry. I get it. You have to
let go of Henry. He had spent his life doing for others. He earned
money for others, gave emotional support to women in need, raised
someone else's daughters, gave technical and actuarial support to
agencies in need at a fairer price than they could get elsewhere, and
always subjugated his own needs to others. I know you're current wife
doesn't think so, but she's in panic and transition herself and her
perspective is warped right now. Let's face it. Henry spent his whole
life being a Saint for the good of others. Only since 9/11, he's
martyred himself for the truth. That's done now. Let go of him. Let
Henry find peace in Heaven and you find peace as Irene when you get out
of here."
Henry's tears stopped in their tracks. He backed a few steps away from
James and looked up at his face, saying, "Oh, my God! Who are you
anyway? It's amazing enough that a hard-core con such as yourself
became my protector and guardian angel. It's more amazing still that
you understood totally about 9/11 and what's happened to America and
what I was trying desperately to do. But this is beyond my ken!" After
pausing, Henry continues, "Do you know that it took two doctors, my two
closest friends, and me to come to terms with exactly what you said?
And, you've known me all of two and one-half days!"
James chuckled again, "I know you are dressed as Henry but may I call
you by your real name?" Irene nodded as James continued, "Irene, you
share your feelings like the girl you are when you feel safe with
someone. I'm grateful that you feel safe with an old hard-boiled cuss
like me. You have no idea how much you've shared with me the past two
days. The other part to this as I think you've been seeing is that I
have an active mind that gets bored with life here. You're the most
interesting thing and the most worthwhile that I've had in a long time,
so I've been listening carefully, trying to do what I can to help." They
both smiled at each other from ear-to-ear.
At night, Irene kept sobbing in her bunk and after a few night like
this, James whispered to her to climb up to him. In his arms, she felt
safe and was rocked to sleep. Neither one of them wanted anything
sexual, not here. Sometimes, hugs are far more gratifying and
satisfying than sex. She also prodded him to tell her more about him
and why he was in a short-term facility when he obviously was a veteran
of the system. It turns out that he got caught being physical with his
fists with his kid sister?s drug supplier. From the latter?s
perspective, the intervention was totally unwanted and she testified
against her brother. This was James? third offense or third strike
under Texas law. Barring the miracle of an overcrowded penal system
ruling, James knew that the next facility to which he was transferred
would likely be his home until he died. He told Irene that her time in
here with him was one of the few times he felt alive in a long time.
In some ways, Irene was almost sad that the lawyer sent by Alethea
finally sprung Henry after two more weeks. She resolved to look into
seeing if there was any way she could help James with her money after
things got settled back home. Even as he returned to Philadelphia
Airport and got in the waiting car back to the suburbs, Irene knew that
Henry and Alethea?s marriage would soon be over and that it would all be
for the best.
Oprah
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