The Deranged Dentist Of Darien free porn video

1996 at Delta Dental in Tacoma Washington I was returning from taking X-Rays of Mrs. Rappaport's bicuspids for evaluation when Waverly, one of the other hygienists at the Delta Dental office in Tacoma where I worked pulled me aside and had me follow her to the ladies room. She said, "Di, you'll never believe what Marshall Arrington did. He's such a perv!" Always up for some good dish. I replied, "He's the new dentist from Yakima, isn't he? I thought he was rather cute. Of course, at my height, I always notice guys who are taller than me especially when they are around my age. Most of the new dentists seem to be straight out of dental school, especially the women." "True enough," replied Waverly, "but I don't think you should get too close to Arrington. Let me tell you the latest skeevy thing he did. You know the files above where Barb sits on the 3rd floor." I nodded as she continued, "Well, Barb was home sick today and Eve was leaning over Barb's desk. Without saying a word, that creep snuck up behind her and reached up to grab a patient's file. But then, he mumbled something about it being the wrong one and reaching deeper to it back, pressed right up against Eve's butt accidentally-on-purpose and leaned in so she felt his thing press against her. Then he stayed there fingering the files until he found the one he wanted and removed it. Took his sweet time too so his dick must have enjoyed the feel. Is that gross or what? I think he's older than Eve's father!" "You said the latest skeevy thing. Was there something else?" "Eve has caught him at a couple of things. He left his briefcase open on a desk and there in plain view was a copy of Penthouse." I replied, "You never know about people, do you? Even dentists!" I barely stifled my inward chuckle. But how could young Waverly possibly know that she was sharing this dish with someone whose infamy as a pervert once captured the nation's attention, especially back in Connecticut? Ten years ago, I was Elliott Perlmutter DMD. If that doesn't ring a bell, try this. CNN, the Stamford Advocate, and the National Examiner, among others, used to refer to me as The Deranged Dentist of Darien. The late 1950's through the mid 1960's: My Formative Years My mother and grandmother were both big-busted women when I was growing up in Riverdale in the north end of the Bronx. My grandmother was raising her niece Joanie, my second cousin since her widower brother was incapacitated. Joanie was 7 years my elder, had long raven-colored hair, and of course, a big bosom. She teased me a couple times for awkwardly staring at her there, but it was a loving sort of teasing because we had a rare symbiotic relationship with relatives that far apart in age. She always appreciated me for my intelligence, sensitivity, the fact that I loved listening with her to her records, and rubbing her feet while she brushed her hair. In her early teens when I was 7 through 9, she would even take me with her to the movies when there was something she wanted to see and couldn't find a girlfriend to go with her. When she was a junior in high school, she was so impressed with my vocabulary and reading comprehension and insights as a 10-year old, she even let me do some of her English homework assignments. We later discovered that after reading through a few chapters of her textbook, I was able to do her trigonometry homework for her. One day we were alone in Grandma's apartment because she was out with my mother playing Bingo and I had finished Joanie's trig homework. As a reward, she snuck in a small bottle of wine and we both drank from her bottle, the difference being that I took tiny demure sips. She giggled and then I giggled. She threw her hair back and said, "I love you, Elliott. You're my favorite relative and someone I trust secrets to you that I don't even share with my best girlfriends." I smiled from ear-to-ear and kissed her on the cheek. "The thing is that you are like a girlfriend. You're sweet like a girl; you're helpful like a girl; you are always giving me supportive smiles like a girl; you even sit like a girl." I blushed. "Do you mean that as a compliment or are you trying to embarrass me?" Joanie kissed me on the cheek and hugged me close, "It's a compliment. It shows how mature you are. Most boys are so immature, and sassy, and dirty, and selfish, and destructive. You're mature beyond your years and seem to have a better sense of what's really important in life than I so. You're a 10-year old boy and seem to have as calm and philosophical an outlook as Mrs. Krebs, my Guidance Counselor - and you know I adore Mrs. Krebs." "Of course. THAT is a real compliment." I blushed again. "But there are other things I notice about you, especially the way you seem to love looking at my bras and panties when I had left them on the floor or on top of the dresser and hadn't put them away yet. You've even helped me put the laundry away a couple of times and showed me that you know just how to handle them and fold them. I'll bet you'd like to wear my panties. I'll let you if you want." She took another swig of wine offered it to me, and I took another sip. "Oh yes, please." She handed me a pair of white silk ones that said "Thursday." I don't know why I wasn't more shocked or awkward but instinctively, I knew not to hesitate. I removed my jeans and jockey shorts, and put them on the beautiful silk forbidden fruit. I fell in love with the feel immediately. I giggled, "But, it's only Tuesday" She teased, "Silly girl in panties. Do you mind if I pretend you're my girlfriend now that you're wearing my panties? I think you've always wanted to play with me this way, haven't you?" "You know my secret inner thoughts, cuz, just like I know yours." We both tittered and had a little more wine. "I've always wished I was a girl, especially a big girl like you!" I kissed her again but this time she grabbed my face and kissed me full on the lips and hard. I was in 7th heaven! I continued, "I wish I was big like you up top so I could wear your bra but I know I can't. It would slide right down me like a hula hoop except I couldn't even stop it with my hips." "I swear girl. You are the smartest 10 year-old I've ever met - of any sex - and you seem comfortable in either. You help me so much. I want to help you have fun. OK, you can't wear my bra, but would you like to try removing mine and holding it." Joanie was really giddy now and didn't wait for an answer. She took her blouse off and led me by the hand in back of her saying, "OK, if you reach under the strap, youll feel some metal hooks. You have to unfasten them. Here's what I want you to do." Before Joanie could finish her instructions, I had unhooked it and started helping her slide it down her shoulders. "Elliott, how did you know how to do that? Have you been playing dress up with your mother's bras when she's not at home." Blushing, I nodded mutely. "How do you keep them up?" "I take tennis balls and put them inside my crew socks and then put them inside the cups. I do the left side first, then once I snap it in place, I can just slip the other one in my right breast." "You are so resourceful and smart, Elliott!" "Please call me Elly!" I begged. "I like that a lot. Elly it is. You know, I can call you that from now on no matter how you're dressed. People will think it's a nickname! Hey, you're looking straight at my tits. Would you like to touch them?" I giggled when she said tits, then nodded my head. She sat on the floor legs straight out, then beckoned me toward he. She took my hand and put it on her left nipple and said, "Pinch it." I did. Joanie blinked and moaned lightly. At this point, I lost all my inhibitions. "May I suck it please?" "You can, only if you promise not to ignore the right one. No teeth now!" "I'll be careful." "Go for it!" Boy, did I! I sucked like I was milking her, hungrily but gently as the same time. She closed her eyes and tilted her face back. "Mm." After about 5 minutes on Cloud 9, she said, "OK. Elly, that's enough! You're driving me wild. I need you to take my panties off and kiss me down there." "Really? Oh, thank you. Thank you." "Shut up and plant some kisses on my hair down there, then kep moving down me." She opened her legs wide and opened her glorious vagina to me. I couldn't believe how much my cousin loved me. I was in ecstasy. She took my head and placed it between her legs, then gently used her pinky to push my nose to just where she wanted my tongue. "Elly girl, I want you to keep your tongue right there, then move it slowly in tight small circles. Can you do that for me, Sweetie?" I raised my left thumb upward to indicate yes. Joanie made moaning noises, soft and first, then louder and deeper. I knew instinctively this was what she wanted and that I was making her feel good. Then she jerked back and forth with such force, my whole head was thrown in the opposite direction. I started to move back between her legs but she grabbed me by the hand and led me to sit next to her, by the crook of her arm, and hugged me. "Let's just sit here for a while." She looked at her watch and when 5 minutes had passed, she got up. "OK, we need to both get dressed in our normal clothes. I'm going to the bathroom to wash up and I want you to do the same." We did. When I got out. She said, "You are so natural. You really should've been born a girl." "Yes, I know. I go to bed every night wishing my dick would fall off and I can have what you have. More than anything, I wish I could grow big breasts. I love big breasts and I always felt like I should have them some day. But wishing and praying do not seem to make it so." "I know. That's why I wanted to give you one special memory. But, it can't happen again and it's got to be our secret." I wanted to protest but knew she was right and knew that she'd be in deep trouble if I didn't keep her secret. I kissed her cheek "I swear. You can count on me, always and forever." A month later when we went to see "Gidget Goes Hawaiian," she got serious and told me how ashamed she was and how wrong what we did was. I just smiled, kissed her, and said, "I have no idea what you are talking about." We both giggled. And that was that. We kept each other's secrets forever- just like we said. She went away to Vassar for college and mailed me once a week, often with intimate details on what was going on with her latest boyfriends. For the first two years, I loved these exchanges and wished I were her. Later, I still enjoyed them but got less involved as I got more involved in my own sex life. Right after my Bar Mitzvah, the ceremony of manhood was quickly accompanied by early puberty. By the end of ninth grade, I knew solemnly that there was no turning back. I almost never prayed to be magically transformed into a girl anymore. My new fantasies focused on sucking on the tits of the nubile girls around me. I found I was pretty good at basketball and played for the high school basketball team. In the showers, when I could catch a furtive glance, it seemed as if I was reasonably well endowed, maybe a bit bigger than most. Dating-wise, instead of continuing to wish I could be with one of Joanie's boyfriends, I focused on Meryl Weinblatt who had the largest chest in my home room. We went on Saturday afternoon movie dates at the local theater, and we became a bit of an item. One conversation I overheard described me as one of the only good athletes at school who wasn't stuck up and still treated girls as human beings, not just objects. Hearing that made me happy and I felt for the first time in my life that I could be a man who was respected as a man and still not be a typical asshole. I also found I could resist peer pressure when guys tried to show off. When asked about Meryl, I always said it was between her and me and that I really liked spending time with her so why would I talk about her when she wasn't around? When Matt from the team said that sharing with teammates should come first, I just smiled and said ,"You're a good man" and then challenged him to a game of horse. Life was good. Deep inside, I never lost my interest in bras and panties but was content with removing them, fondling them, and replacing them, rather than wearing them. Still, the desire to wear them never completely went away and tended to resurface most when I was feeling very excited or extremely down. Life with Leah in the 1970's Eventually I went to Yale, majored in chemistry, met Leah, and started dating her exclusively. Man, was she stacked! She also tended to wear rather expensive and silky lingerie, none of the cotton stuff. Unlike my prior girlfriend, Eydie, who pressured me to try to get into Medical School and dropped me when I told her no way, Leah - who majored in psychology - was totally on board with my plans to become a dentist. I stayed with Yale, going to Dentistry School there then, worked a few years at the dental clinic at Yale-New Haven Hospital. In the closet in my small apartment, I kept a suitcase with a false bottom where I kept my personal stashes of bras, panties, stockings, and garters. These fetishes never went away but I was able to restrict dress-up sessions only to days I really needed to release stress, typically not too much more than once every other two weeks. When reflecting on this, I began to realize that it was because I was feeling so comfortable with Leah, being accepted as who I am, and no longer feeling pressure. I also remembered that she had teased me a couple times during and after sex that I seemed more interested in her bras than in her boobs. I decided that she was the one for me if she could really handle who I am. The next date, I took her to a fancy Italian restaurant dressed in my best suit, shirt, and tie and ordered Veuve Cliquot champagne. I think she expected me to propose right there. Back at the apartment, I looked at her deeply and said that I think you already know what I'm dying to ask you, but I feel it would be unfair if I didn't share something with you and I think it's best if I just show it to you now. Stay with me and I'll explain. I took of my jacket, tie, and shirt, revealing a Hanes white undershirt, then under it a white silk bra lying limp. To my surprise, she smiled and giggled, "Could you think I didn't know you had a lingerie fetish? You did everything but advertise it on a billboard!" "It's okay?" I asked. "You don't want to be a woman yourself, do you?" I looked earnestly into my eyes and shook her head no, really thinking to myself, "Well not most of the time anymore so that's pretty much the truth, isn't it?" She then asked, "Now, is this just private and something we can do to spice up our bedroom? If you need to go out dressed like a woman, I would have a MAJOR problem with that." I said, "No, I swear. I don't even do outer garments or shoes or anything, just the underneath stuff." Leah then confessed she had he own lesbian fantasies and if I was into pleasing her orally while dressed up, we could really have the sex life of our fantasies. We kissed so hard I thought my teeth would fall out. We got engaged and were married the following April. Our sex lives were fulfilling both of our fantasies and more. We introduced toys and I loved her double-ended strap-on almost as much as we both grew to love anal beads. I got a job in New Canaan and we rented a house there. During the next four years, we had a boy, Jordan and a girl, Rachel. We also got along well with the neighbors. In retrospect, perhaps we got along too well but at the time, that only kept us in step. During the 1970's a form of swinging they called "wife swapping" was sweeping the neighborhood. Since Leah and I had pretty active libidos, we were open to it when Tyler and Mary Ann from down the block brought up the subject at a barbecue in our backyard. Now a lot of the couples slept over at each other's houses but Leah and I found it more fun when we cross-coupling in a location we could still hear and maybe even glance over at each other. So, most of the time when the kids were dropped off somewhere, they would just come over to see if we were available for some fun. Mary Ann was buxom, just as I liked my gals and Tyler was athletic and well hung, just as Leah liked her guys so the pairings were perfect. Mary Ann enjoyed taking me in the female superior position more than Leah whose favorite position was doggie style. One night when they rang the bell, I was in my frilly lingerie diddling Leah's clit for all I was worth. We finished, figuring they had returned home and we'd call them later. When the bell rang again, we just through on our street clothes and answered the door. They smiled and said they knew we were home but figured we were busy so they just went back into the car to make out, then came back to see if we were up for a quick switch. Leah sang out always and off we went, Mary Ann and I to the master bedroom leaving the door open of course, and Tyler sat Leah on his lap on the couch. Taking my shirt off, Mary Ann fondled my falsies and bra. She laughed and then called to her husband, "What have we here? Someone has an even more active fantasy life than we knew about." Leah laughed, realizing what happened, calling back that sometimes I liked her to call me Elly while he dressed up in bras and panties. "Falsies too, I see," Mary Ann called back. Leah said, "Yeah, he not only likes us full-figured gals, sometimes he like to fantasize he is one." Mary Ann was curious. "Really? We'll have to explore that, girl! C'mon Elly, Take your jeans off and show me your panties!" Then, "Cool. Pink satin. I like them. We'll pull them down just to your knees and let me fuck you silly." She rode me rodeo style as we had come to both love. I hear Tyler tell Leah, I'm much more interested in what's beneath your bra, and they started doing their thing. That night ended with them both sleeping over, followed by all of us rushing out to pick up our respective kids in the morning. Although all three of my bedtime companions teased me mercilessly and talked about "exploring more with me" next time, it never happened. Two days later, the local paper did an expose on Wife Swapping in New Canaan. It mushroomed to a regional and then to a national story. People got so sanctimonious, some of the swappers turned on one another, actually naming some names. Given the new environment, we all decided we'd cut out the "Sex Capades" until things calmed down, especially since all our kids could be put at risk. A few months later, Leah and I realized our house was becoming too small for Rachel and Jordan and financially it made more sense for us to buy than to continue leasing. Leah and I moved on to Darien. Six month later, I joined a practice there. Work and Play in the Early 1980's The next seven years or so, our lives proceeded fairly normally, at least as far as dentist-psychologist couples go. The kids did well in school. When they got to be 10 and 9, they started spending summers at sleep-away camp. Leah and I used our flexibility sometimes to take vacations in placing like Auckland, New Zealand and Colombo Sri Lanka to swing a bit with various threesomes and foursomes. She had bought me a couple of peignoirs for playing dress-up. Then one year, we did a cabin vacation outside of Auckland and she enticed me to go the whole nine yards with yellow and pink sundresses, one-inch pumps, make-up, pierced ears, earrings, and the works. Mostly, we were in the cabin and could role-play to our hearts' desire. It wasn't until later that afternoon I learned my creative wife had more up her sleeves than I imagined. While I offered to tidy up, then catch up on a book I was reading to relax, Leah said she wanted to go buy some supplies and drove off. After doing so, she went to a bar for lunch that was affiliated with the general store there. She introduced herself to two very good looking gents at the bar. She asked them, a 6'2" guy named Jake and another 4 inches taller named Simon, to come over for dinner. She said it would be a surprise for me, explaining that I loved to spend some fantasy time as Elly, and looked really pretty but had never been penetrated by anything but anal beads and plastic. She said that this fantasy was probably too embarrassing for me to share but she just knew I had it. The guys were game. Back at the cabin, Leah was surprised to find that I was wearing a new French maid's uniform I had secretly packed. I picked it up at a Frederick's of Hollywood when I visited my folks in Paramus New Jersey the previous Christmas and had been saving it for the right time. I decided this vacation would be a perfect time to unveil it. Leah thought it was campy but cute, telling me we were both on the same wavelength. She also said that I was always terrific doing the housework, but the place was so immaculate I had done an incredible job. I blushed and curtseyed and we each had a drink. She showed me the bags of groceries and instructed me to make my London broil, asparagus, and potatoes. She even got me cornbread mix and asked me to make that. It seemed to me that there was an awful lot of food. That's when she revealed her invitations to Jake and Simon. She poured me another drink. I protested that the thought of doing it with a real man scared me and that having sex with another man would make me gay. She said, "I understood the scared part because men are scary but when a girl gets past her fears, there's nothing more exciting or rewarding. I certainly know by know that when you're dressed in lingerie, you believe you are a woman and you think and act like a woman. Well, look at you! I love it! You've gotten into our fantasy seclusion as much as I have darling. If this goes the way I hope, you won't be Elliott having gay sex but Elly giving herself to a tall and handsome lover. You know in your soul you've always wanted to try but wouldn't do it unless it was safe and there was no fear of discovery. Well, we're on the outskirts of New Zealand, more than 10,000 miles from home. It doesn't get any more anonymous than that. In short, I think my maid doth protest too much," "You're right," I finally decided, "this is something I fantasized about my entire life but was resigned would never happen. Of course, I'm so happy with our normal life, I was fine with that." Leah poured me another drink and we toasted to Elly's first time. "I'd be petrified if YOU didn't set it up. Everything you do turns out to be right." Leah beamed. "OK, turn around, let's take a look." After doing so, let's fluff out your wig and get you some jewelry. Your make-up looks good. I see you used a light base but it's barely perceptible and the rouge, shadow, and mascara are just right for the French maid look, bold but not overdone. You look delectable, Hon!" She then took care of fluffing the wig and replacing it and putting two bracelets, a necklace, a cocktail ring, and an anklet. She said, "We don't have time to pierce your ears. Maybe next time, we will!" Dinner went exactly as we planned. I kept on my maid's uniform and served, then begged them to get started while I changed into something more comfortable - my pink sundress (matched my underwear better). We all laughed, finishing two bottles of Shiraz. Leading us into the living room, Leah inserted a cassette of slow dance songs she had compiled starting with "Color My World" by Chicago. While she beckoned Jake to take her in his embrace, Simon, gentle as a lamb, took me by the hand and started me dancing with him. His lips penetrated my mouth and I returned the favor as I went into fantasy nirvana, feeling small like a girl following the lead of her tall and handsome lover for the first time. Leah and Jake made out like crazy too as I caught out of the corner of my eye and I wasn't the least bit jealous, just really turned on. Jake took Leah's top off right there in the living room and removed her bra. Leah smiled but said, "Just hold me for now. I want to watch Simon deflower Elly." Simon looked at me to make sure I was game and I said in my best attempt at a breathy voice, "So, this is what it's like to be a star! C'mon big boy, show me what you've got!" I reached to unhook his button and unzip his fly, grabbing for his half-hard snake. I got on my knees and planted kisses on its head. Simon laughed, saying, "Whoa, Girl! Let me lead. I always like to get my lady aroused first." He gently lifted off my sundress, folding it neatly, then unhooked my bra folding it too, and removed my falsies. I asked tentatively, "Doesn't this spoil the effect for you?" Simon gallantly answered, "Not at all. I'll bet you have really sensitive nipples and I wanted to pleasure you and me too by sucking on them." That made me feel more special than anything I had ever experienced in my life. I smiled and winked at Leah, mouthing my thanks. She blew me a kiss and started unzipping Jake, reaching for his manhood. My nipples hardened and felt like they would burst. I loved when Leah licked me here, but this was different. Simon was sucking like he could get milk from me and I wanted him to get it. Still, in my role, I wanted to give before I receive. I winked at him, asked him to sit where I was, then kneeled before him. "Enough, my hero! Now it's your turn." I sucked while fondling his balls, milking like a woman possessed until I claimed my reward as his spunk cascaded into my heretofore virgin mouth. He said, "I wanted to hold back but couldn't." We hugged and kissed for about 15 minutes, relaxing to watch Leah and Jake go at it in earnest. That was also as sexy a show as I'd seen and that includes our other couplings on the road and even the New Canaan days with Tyler and Mary Ann. Jake had a great body and knew how to use it. The ferocity with which they fucked made me want to rename the position: coyote style. Apparently, Leah shared another one of our secrets with Simon as he knew just where to go to get the anal beads and use them on me with lube. When I was moaning out of my head, he replaced them with himself, but slowly, gently, and with the utmost finesse. I was filled mentally and physically in laces I had never been filled before. Going back to my pre-puberty days, I had always dreamt of really being made love to, not just fucked by a man. I can't tell you how wonderful I felt. Eventually the boys left. Nothing in the rest of our time in New Zealand compared with that but we had a great time and enjoyed it all. Often in my office or lying in bed, I would remember how it felt with Simon, but never felt the urge to repeat it since it was mine forever in my fantasies and I had a very happy reality life I was already living. 1986 -Descending Into Darkness The year began well enough. I became a full partner in the practice. In May, Leah and I went down to the city (Manhattan) . A Museum of Sex was opening in midtown. To help launch it, the Guggenheim had a special exhibit of feminine undergarments from medieval times to the present. It was a mind-blowing exhibit. I was most fascinated with the ornate and bejeweled corsets, bustiers, and garter belts of the Victoria area that were worn under those ornate gowns. Leah had to drag me away from there. The very next month, I thought I hit the mother lode with my newest patient. Margaret Hollenback, best known as a philanthropic supporter of the arts, was 82 when her assistant made the appointment with me the prior week. I came highly recommended to Mrs. Hollenback by one of my regular patients. The socialite's current dentist passed away unexpectedly two weeks before. Moreover, she detested the only associate to the decedent's practice so when I called her to obtain the X-Rays, she wasn't the most accommodating colleague with whom I had ever dealt. Still, I got the job done, examined the X-Rays, and was able to prepare to handle the job. The arts patron had been scheduled for root canal surgery to save a post and the pain was returning. Tired of being consistently recognized, she demanded complete privacy with no other clients around and preferably no assistants. Her schedule was busy. The best time for her was 6/19 at 7:30 PM but her chauffeur might get her there earlier or later depending upon traffic. She would be wearing a rare and delicate outfit to a ceremony prior to the appointment so I had to be especially careful to keep her stain- free. I was to call the chauffeur precisely 15 minutes before I anticipated that Mrs. Hollenback would be able to leave. Shortly before 5:00 PM that evening, Astrid who we hired as a hygienist and office assistant in January asked me if I was leaving soon. I explained why I was staying late and she now connected that in her head to the mysterious appointment she heard me take personally when Hollenback's assistant refused to give her any info. She asked if she could pick me up a sandwich since I had awhile to wait. I readily accepted the offer and soon was biting into an eggplant parmesan sub from our favorite local pizza place after I thanked Astrid and she took off. At 7:30 on the dot, the chauffeur rang the bell and I let him in. He introduced me to Mrs. Hollenback, then said he had duties to fulfill and gave me a number to call him to return 15 minutes before his boss was to be ready to be picked up. Mrs. Hollenback was delightful, commencing with the rave reviews I had received from her friend. If I hadn't been told she was 82, I'd have made her out for her late sixties. Her face looked soft and youthful and the fact that they must've been kept looking that way artificially was only obvious because I had been told her age. Otherwise, my doctor's eye picked up no telltale scars or stiffness. Her periwinkle blue gown smacked of Victorian elegance as did her matching shoes. They were antique classic kept in pristine condition. Now I understood the warning about the clothes I had received. She had come straight from the Frick Museum in Manhattan where she cut the ribbon on a new exhibit that she had not only funded but had a big hand in securing for the Frick. It was the American debut of a collection of English impressionists that had been in the Duchess of Windsor's private collection for 80 years. The collection made its public debut at the British Museum the prior December. It was only from using al her influence that Mrs. Hollenback was able to secure the American debut for the Frick for several others were after it. She regaled me with several stories before I commenced work on her mouth. The one that mesmerized me was about the discomfort she had been suffering for her love of authentic art. Not only was she wearing a gown befitting the era but also a whalebone and imported Chinese silk corset and bustier set. I told her that I had been warned to protect her gown. Since we were completely alone as she requested, would she prefer removing her gown and I could work on her just in her undergarments. She joked that she'd like to strip naked altogether but she'd never get the damned corset back on. Then she winked, as long as it's just between us "girls" (just the expression she happened to use but I blushed anyway), I think that is a capital idea. And so I helped her remove the gown and shoes and hung the gown neatly by itself on the office coat rack. Getting to work on her mouth, I was amazed in what otherwise impeccable shape the teeth of this 82-year old woman were at an age when most people 10 years younger wore dentures. Eventually, I was ready to do the drilling and put her out with nitrous oxide. While she was out, I couldn't resist touching her undergarments, feeling the whalebone of the corset and the elegant silk that held it. Even though I was wearing gloves as always with a patient, the feel was exquisite. Then it happened. I had my hands under the bra segment of the bustier when the door opened. Astrid said, "Hi Doc, I realized I left my pills here..." This was followed by, "What the Fuck! Get the hell away from her you pervert." I stammered, "Astrid, relax. This is not at all what you think. Mrs. Hollenback herself..." She took pepper spray out of her purse and pointed it at me. "I said NOW, get away from her! I don't want to give you the chance to confuse me. I know what I saw." Astrid called 9-1-1 and told them that a helpless woman was incapacitated by an attempted rapist. I started to get angry myself, "I can't believe you said that. This woman came here because she trusted me. She removed her gown voluntarily to protect it. She wanted private attention because she hates people violating her privacy." Astrid stopped me. "Violating IS the word all right." I raised my voice, "Anyway, Miss High-and-Mighty, what do you think you saw me doing? I certainly was not trying to rape this senior citizen like you said to the police. She's a public treasure and I was treating her as the royalty she is." She said accusatorily, "Why did you have your hands under that poor woman's boobs?" I thought fast, "While waiting for the nitrous oxide to take effect, I noticed a gaging reflex taking hold. That happens sometime, so I was pressing down on her diaphragm." Astrid countered, "Below the cups of her boobs?" I protested, "I don't know what you thought you saw at that angle my hands were pressing on her diaphragm." Astrid said, "Okay, just sit in the chair next to your desk. I'm too upset to sit." I said, "I'm still concerned about her privacy. Can I at least call her chauffeur and tell him to come to protect her from publicity?" Astrid insisted, "No. The police should be here any minute." The police came in and took statements from both of us. About the tie Astrid had finished hers, Mrs. Hollenback was waking up. When she found out what was going on, she was furious. She wanted nothing to do with the publicity and she was furious that her work ahead never gotten started, let alone finished. She became even angrier when she learned that her chauffeur had not been summoned. The police wanted to question her. Mrs. Hollenback indignantly refused. Later, when escorted out by the chauffeur, she gave them a number to call her secretary for an appointment to come to the estate and ask her questions. Astrid and I went with the officers to the Darien police station to give our statements. I thought once the confusion was cleared up, we would both be sent home. Instead, my life as a respected dentist was over. The World Goes Amok It turned out that I was out of step with the context of how most people were going to perceive this. The case of a dentist in Long Island who fondled and sucked his female patients' boobs made national headlines and stimulated prurient interests from coast to coast just the year before. The world had been awoken and paralyzed with alarm as to what suburban dentists could be doing to them while they were asleep. Now my case would come to the fore. Once the public became involved, it became a battle cry not to let the police cover up for another rich and perverted dentist taking liberties. It's painful for me to relive this part so I'll focus on the top line items. I was questioned on suspicion of rape, invasion of privacy, and lewd behavior, then released but told not to leave the area since there was a continuing investigation. Meanwhile, a snowball started turning into an avalanche. A National Examiner (a supermarket tabloid) reporter somehow picked up the info that a respected local dentist has been accused of sexually accosting Mrs. Hollenback. The first headlines blared about what kind of fiend assaults an 82-year old woman, especially one so generous. A local paper, the Stamford Advocate also started following the story and a TV station, WTNH asked people to call in if they knew of any improprieties committed. Now sensationalized, Mrs. Hollenback never talked to police and fled to a private health spa in Sweden where she was not to be disturbed. Thus she could never corroborate my story of why the dress was removed. Without the lingerie or Mrs. Hollenback, there could be no proving or disproving my version of events. At first, learning this elated me. After all, in America, I am innocent until proven guilty, right? When you look for something suspicious, you find it, whether it's there or not. The Examiner obtained a list of all the patients I had seen that year and made phone calls looking for dirt on me. They started making the case against me based on anecdotal evidence. One female patient said she dreamed one night just last week that her dentist was sucking on her breasts and she thought she had a brief memory of seeing me clip her front-fastening bra back together but never said anything because I was so respectable she thought she must've been mistaken. One woman said she saw me looking in a funny way toward her daughter. Then someone talked about seeing me at the Guggenheim so obsessed with Victorian lingerie that my wife had to drag me out of there. All of this made for interesting reading and fed prurient interests, but not enough to even get me charged officially. That changed dramatically. Fallon Corcoran was 17 years old and six months pregnant but still swearing to her mother that she never had sex. Her mother after reading the stories, spoke to her daughter, called the Darien police. Her daughter said while still in a daze she remembered seeing the top of my head move up as she felt top button on the fly of her jeans being fastened. She didn't remember that or something even stranger until now. When she took her jeans and panties off that night, she said she noticed that her panties were on backwards and thought that odd. That had flown out of her mind, but had returned. Her mother also said that during the last visit was for a cleaning so no gas was needed. However, she remembered me coming in with her X- Rays and staring unnaturally at Fallon's stomach. She also said that I started to reach to feel the baby but she stopped me. Absolutely none of that was true. Finally, when rummaging through her daughter's panty drawer, she found one of my appointment cards, a blank one. How did it get there if it didn't fall out of my pocket into her removed panties while I was inside her as she slept? It got worse later, an amniocentesis showed the baby had blood type A-positive and I was the same; 1987 was still years before the precise DNA testing they have now was available. After this, I got charged with felony rape and a whole host of other charges. They didn't charge me with rape against Mrs. Hollenback as she was still in Sweden and incommunicado. However, a lot of other charges were being made on the basis of other patient's dreams and hazy recollections as the D.A. started gathering everything possible to see what would stick. He probably thought it would also help him in plea bargain time. Then I got another shock, my wife informed me that she had to put the children first. Since the fall term was starting in a few weeks, this would be the perfect time to move them. She had secured a job at a clinic in Virginia, rented a house, and was moving there with the kids. She would be filing for divorce as soon as practicable and would obtain an order for me to sell the house. Her timing was perfect. Ten minutes after Leah finished telling me this, the police came to arrest me then have me arraigned. Three weeks later the grand jury indicted me. I was transferred from the local jail (actually in Stamford, not Darien) to a medium security facility jail - A REAL JAIL - in Hamden, just outside New Haven. This is about the time that CNN started airing nightly stories on me with "experts" in compiling psychological profiles trying to explain my perversions and derangement. This is when the media dubbed me "Elliott Perlmutter, The Deranged Dentist of Darien." During this entire period, I did three smart things. I recused myself from my practice. I refused to comment to anybody about this and stayed in close quarters with Leah and the kids until they left. Once in custody, I immediately called Hal Wigod, a top criminal attorney and my best friend when we were both at Yale. Hal knew his stuff and confirmed my good judgment regarding silence. He said, "Most people would want to give their side of the story. You've done a great job of staying mum since your initial statement to the police. You didn't say anything I could find that should work against you there. So, that leads off the good news." After questioning me further, he said that he believed my story and it wasn't often he defended someone who was completely innocent of the charges. He joked that he hoped he wasn't too rusty doing that. He said the best thing we had going for us, at least so far, was that all of the prosecution's case, including the evidence related to Ms. Corcoran, was circumstantial. Unfortunately, there was going to be a lot of their-words-against-yours testimony. The jury and judge are supposed to listen one-at-a-time to these and see that if no proof of guilt exists, no matter how many people say what they saw, remembered, and dreamed, if your testimony cannot be disproven, they should find you innocent. You know the world doesn't work as it should. Neither does the courtroom. The DA has gone sanctimoniously to the media swearing that he'll never accept a plea deal. Hal laid it on the line. "The high-tech lynch mob is gathering full force and they want to see you hanged." The Examiner continued to weigh in beyond the profiling and interviews with alleged victims that everyone was doing. Eventually they unearthed and secured interviews with anyone who had ever been involved with anything sexually prurient in my past, including: Cousin Joanie, Tyler and Mary Ann and Jake from Jake and Simon in New Zealand. Apparently Simon, God bless him, refused to be interviewed. How they discovered and found all these people from my past I'll never know. Just to add to the circus, two days after Jake was interviewed about our liaison including details of the blow job I gave Simon, one of my male patients filed a complaint saying he woke up and saw me put his dick back inside his pants zipper and then zip him up but thought it was the gas giving him delusions but was convinced that now he knew better. Needless to say, all of these patients who filed charges with the police about now-remembered transgressions by yours truly also filed civil suits for millions of dollars. Hal asked me to sign a power of attorney to retain tort counsel on my behalf. I agreed and said that after I'm formally served, I'd appreciate it if he could do that with divorce counsel too. This continued a few more weeks. What a nightmare this was! Still the worst was yet to come. During a free period when most prisoners were in the yard, a guard named Frank said, "Hey. You're a famous guy, I'll bet the papers in the library have a lot about you. Let me walk you down there and you can see." I nodded my approval and followed him. He unlocked the door to the library, walked five feet into the room, showed me a kiosk of papers by the librarian's empty desk, told me to help myself, then he left. I had been set up. The next thing I knew, I was hit on the skull and moved behind the librarian's desk with one of the con's I didn't know yelling "Open up, Painless." "What?" "I'm gonna stick my cock on your mouth so you'd better open up and use your tongue and I don't want to feel any teeth." It wasn't until then I realized that I was being rocked back and forth from behind and that something was pistoning in my rectum. I didn't need three guesses. "Well, what's it going to be?" There something about realizing in an instant that you are being gang-raped by convicts and already having a cock in your ass that makes acquiescence to being forced to give a blow job fairly automatic. I opened wide, and tried to lick him as fast as I could. I tried to use my hands to help, then felt that they were tied together. I just used something I learned a long time ago when faced with an unpleasant task. In my brain, I visualized myself relaxing in my favorite mountain cabin, with a stream gurgling nearby. I didn't know how many there were, but I knew it wouldn't end until they decided it would. Since he had unlocked the door to let me in, it was an instant realization that it was my friend Frank who had set me up. Some more thoughts disturbed my imagery. Assuming they just wanted to rape me, not kill me, the best thing I could do is be as cooperative as possible in making my openings available and moving with their rhythms. The other essential thing was not to look at any of their faces or anything but the dicks I saw. The less I saw, the better my chance of living. I tried getting back to the cabin now and then but even my mind is only so strong. I wound up instead, counting strokes in my butt and how many pulled in and pulled out. It was just something to keep me occupied while I licked and sucked. I believe I tasted at least 7 different cocks and was butt-fucked at least 9 times but I may have lost count. Someone pulled out, saying something was gross and I thought I heard the word blood. I lowered my butt to the ground and nobody stopped me so I figured they were done with their fun. Then I heard a voice. "Everybody out. I want this pervert to myself." I started to re-raise my butt. "Oh no," said the rough voice. "I'm not a rapist." Then I heard someone shout down the hall that Frank was coming back so I thought maybe he'd leave. Instead he continued, "I'm an avenger." I felt something sharp stab my scrotum, then I blacked out. The Crash of '87 I awoke from my coma at 3:00 PM on Monday October 19. No one seemed to notice or care. Of course, all I knew was that it was 3:00. I just stared at the clock on the wall, looked at my IVs, and tried to figure out where to ring for the nurse. It took me awhile for the right eye to locate it, but I did and rang. Then I waited some more. Eventually, I found that I was at Yale-New Haven Hospital but you might have thought it was a branch office of Merrill Lynch since everybody's attention seemed to be focused on the stock market. It was crashing. The nurse that came over told me in broken Spanglish that she was happy I was not in coma anymore but couldn't say more. She needed me to see doctor. I said I needed to go to the bathroom. She said I was all hooked up and that I should just do what I needed to do in my bed. About 6:30 PM, a doctor finally showed up. She didn't know whether anyone had told me about my condition, went to get my records, then returned. At last, I got the not altogether shocking news, having had more than three hours to recall the last nightmarish scene of my live, then keep reliving it until a doctor would finally talk to me. I remembered the stabbing in my scrotum like it was yesterday, not more than two weeks ago. The bandages prevented me from reaching in that area. The doctor confirmed that I had been castrated and they had no way of saving the testes or the sac as living tissue. They were gone. I asked if I suffered any other injuries. She ticked off a list including a slashed face, fractured cheekbone, crushed eardrum, broken jawbone, broken leg, and a severely bruised rectum. There were others as well but I lost track. She said everything but the face and the castration had been addressed although rehabilitation would take a few months. She added I would be given some options in the morning about addressing the other injuries. It all sounded pretty antiseptic but it certainly wasn't. I had a sleepless night at YNH with many more questions than answers. Once again, Hal was the one person I could count on. Detectives he hired worked tirelessly until ascertaining that Fallon's baby-daddy was actually her first cousin Timothy, 9 years Fallon's elder and engaged to a young lady with means. Faced with overwhelming evidence, Fallon and Mrs. Corcoran admitted lying and embellishing respectively and dropped the charges and the civil suit. Mrs. Hollenback sent over a deposition from Sweden that she removed the dress voluntarily. After that, the DA went back to all the other filers to see if he had anything tangible and he did not. "So congratulations," Hal continued, "you are a free man. All criminal charges and all civil suits against you have been dropped. When word of the jailhouse attack hit the media, some expressed outrage and dismay that the prison could let this happen. Most, however, expressed publicly that it was justice served, especially an Examiner editorial and a Senior Official at CNN. We're going after them even though they issued retractions once the DA explained why he was dropping all charges. In fact, the shoes are now on a bunch of other feet. I've kept Art Dalrymple, the torts guy, on retainer. Only now, he's on offense. We've already opened discussions with a number of parties including the State of Connecticut, the National Examiner, CNN, Arsenio Hall, WOR-TV, Maureen Corcoran, Frank Casey, Eamon Creed, and Foster Castleman. Before we're through, you are going to collect an obscene amount of money, most likely in a settlement but it may take a couple of years." I asked, "Okay, Castleman's the DA, right? I know who Corcoran is by now and the others are self-explanatory. Who are Casey and Creed?" "Casey was the guard who set all this up and Creed is a member of the prison's Oversight Board and Maureen Corcoran's uncle. He hired Casey and wanted you dead. It was Casey who did the damage to the right side of your head and eardrum. He had drawn his gun and was about to fire when another officer caught him in the act. They have both been arraigned on criminal charges." Hal continued, "I've also spoken to Leah. She's thrilled you've been exonerated and cried profusely about your grotesque treatment in prison and is horrified by the castration. She said she prayed every night that you'd survive and come out of the coma. She also said she cannot regret doing what was necessary to protect the children and a chance to continue a happy life. She is still determined to get the divorce but with a new attitude. Her prior instructions to the cutthroat divorce attorney she'd hired was to go for the jugular. Now she wants arbitration with you to ensure a fair split. If I were you, I'd go along with it. Oh, and she also said to remind you that you should file a claim with AFLAC on your partial disability and dismemberment insurance." I smiled ironically, "Leah always was the pragmatic one. Love is terrific but it's money that matters." Hal said, "If anyone has the right to feel wronged and angry, it's you. It doesn't get much worse that castration and gang rape. The rest of the assaults were no fun either nor was the public humiliation and the venom expressed by people you don't even know. Hey, this will make you smile. The publisher of the Examiner advanced Astrid two million dollars for the rights to her book about your perversions. Since he dare not publish it now and it has no market, that's money thrown out the window." I chuckled, "I'm glad he's losing it but not so thrilled that bitch is getting rich off this." Hal chuckled back, "There is no perfect justice. Anyway, let's get back to you, specifically your future. First, let's discuss the obvious and most painful. You have probably already been told there is no replacing your testes. You could have an artificial sac attached to your non-functional penis but its purpose would be purely decorative and there have been reports of rashes and discomfort. Another thing you can consider may work out better, but I'll get back to it. We need to discuss identity first because I think you seriously need to reflect on it. There are a few options on the table. The first option would be considered the normal one but frankly I like it least for you. That would be to remain Elliott Permutter DMD and to try to pick up the pieces of your life. You'd find that the notoriety lasts longer than they sympathy. You have neither family nor practice to return to. The inevitable deterioration of the maleness of your appearance might also spur ridicule and humiliation from the insensitive." I groaned, "It sounds about as appealing as prison was. Did you say I have other choices?" "Yes. The good news is that Casey's connection with Creed ties into a crime syndicate that's been under investigation by the FBI. In exchange for your testimony against Casey, they are offering a total package that includes not only a new identity, domicile, and subsistence on-taxable income that you are free to augment, but unlimited plastic surgery, spa treatments, and if you want it, a sex- change operation. You'd have complete documentation and credentials all switched over to female. It's not seamless. Normally the scrotal sac is used to help line the vaginal canal. The replacement skin would have to come from your Gluteus Maximus and combined with synthetics and probably have even less feeling than the normal process. That said, only medical professionals will be able to tell it's not a normal vagina. It will appear quite similar and certainly be more functional sexually than a castrated man. You will have to use artificial lube and douche more regularly than a genetic woman but that's true of all post-op transsexuals. I know this is all mind-blowing. Frankly, if it wasn't for what came out from your cousin Joanie, the guy from New Zealand, and the others, I'd never be suggesting it. I'll tell you the truth dear friend, now that I know, it all kind of fits together for me." He pause then added, "Anyway, you certainly have time to think about it while the other procedures on your injuries continue." I smiled. "Who needs time to think? I'm exercising that option!" Tacoma, My New Home I had quite a four=year journey including lots of doctors, lawyers, therapists, beauty consultants, and five countries. Between the legal maneuvers and all the surgery and spa treatments I selected, it was 1991 until I was set up in my current identity, Diane Redfern, Dental Hygienist, at Delta Dental in Tacoma Washington. There are many reasons that led to the specifics of this identity but all wound up being in accordance with my wishes. I also now have a cute button nose, thick pouty lips, bobbed ears (pierced of course), and my own lustrous and "normally" growing hair which is dyed blonde with brown highlights. Counteracting the receding male hairline I had prior to all that work took about a year in itself. I also have far less male muscle mass in my 6'3" frame and am down to 155 pounds, more than 100 pounds less than when I entered the prison. The toppers, of course, are my 44DD tits. I never get tired of seeing them in my full-length mirror. I took to the Pacific Northwest like a bear to honey. Tacoma is close enough to all the attractions in Seattle but so much cozier. There are also a lot of terrific restaurants. Shortly after I settled in, I got permission to have Hal get in touch with Leah. It had been four years since I saw the kids and I wondered if arrangements could be made. Hal was persuasive and I was in luck. Jordan was now at Stanford just an hour and a half flight away. Leah and Rachel were flying out to visit him in two weeks so I booked a stay and met them. It turns out they knew about the witness protection program but not the sex change. Leah told me she didn't recognize me. I teased you've seen me in a dress before. She said, "Yeah, but you were a lot chubbier then and you needed a wig, but those aren't the biggest change I see." She laughed. "I know there are bigger ones I can't see. But your face, Elly, you don't even look Jewish anymore!' I put my finger on my lips. "Diane, not Elly, I reminded her." Rachel interrupted her, "This will take some getting used to but I'm shocked how pretty my Daddy is. The best part is you look really happy!" She ran over and hugged me tight. "Sorry I missed the last four years of you two growing up but your Mom obviously did a great job. I understand your stepfather Wendell is pretty terrific" I replied. Rachel nodded but Jordan just looked away. He seemed uncomfortable with the entire scene. Leah said, "We're all sorry you went through the ordeal you did." She hugged me. "Can you ever forgive me for the divorce?" "Forgive you? I agreed with you. Rachel and Jordan come first. Besides just like Rachel said, I'm really happy again. Look how blessed I've been! We had a great 15 years. I wouldn't trade it for anything and I loved being your man and your husband. But through it all, you let me stay in touch with my feminine side and even encouraged me. The timing made it easy for me to choose my new life, guilt-free. And that's how I feel now - FREE." I beckoned all toward me for a group hug but Jordan pulled away. He shouted to Leah, "I don't care what you say Mom, that giddy woman is not my father. She doesn't even look like him." Then he ran back toward his dorm. I cried seeing how angry I made him. Leah and Rachel both hugged me. Leah said, "Give him some time to adjust." Rachel said, "Boys are so immature." We all nodded in agreement and laughed. Leah said, "Well, we'd better go catch up with him. We'll be back next year and catch up then. I'm sure he'll be fine by then." I kissed them both and bade them off. We did get together the following year and Jordan finally came to terms with who I am. He still doesn't get the whole thing, but he manages to smile when he sees me now. Financially, I don't have to work another day in my life but I actually love being at Delta Dental. At five years, I'm now one of the grizzled vets at the chain known as a "dental sweatshop" with high turnover. The condescending manner in which the dentists and administrators treat me does not bother me whatsoever as I take none of it personally and know they have no control over my livelihood. Those are very stress- freeing circumstances. As a hygienist, I get to chat with clients and bond with peers. We go shopping and out for drinks, chat in person, on the phone, and on this new AOL I am just learning to use and I love it all. As Diane, I'm obviously much more sexually alive than I ever could have been as the castrated Elliott. The first sex I tried was with a woman. I was still fine giving satisfaction, but the other end of the 69 didn't work at all. I didn't feel enough on my clit and vagina to respond and my partner said that made it no fun for her. Feeling a cock inside me is something else again and I find I enjoy it doggie style and anal the best. Sucking voluntarily for lust beats the hell out of being forced to suck as I already knew from dear Simon. Speaking of Simon, he and Jake went to San Francisco on combined business/holiday. They made a special weekend trip to stay with me. Simon felt even better inside my new body and he confessed he enjoyed it better this way too. We stay in touch an occasional phone call but he says there getting the internet in New Zealand and that will be a cheaper way to communicate more frequently. I'm having fun playing the field. It's amazing how these hormones make so many men look so good to me. Also amazing is all these nerve endings I seem to have now. I've never felt so many sensations at the same time. It's a lot more work and planning too of course, but I enjoy doing these things and all the choices I have. I'm lucky to be in a position that the added expense of being a girl doesn't bother me. Being able to cry and to express empathy without arousing suspicion also is a welcome change. Right now, however, I'm not thinking about crying or expressing empathy. I'm headed up to the third floor with flirting on my mind and as horny as I feel, a pervert may be just what the dentist ordered!