Whoops 3 - Whoopsie Daisie (Finale) free porn video

Mike found himself caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. The 'woman' on his lap was comatose from emotional strain. She was total dead weight and Mike was unable to lift her. His wife was passed out on the floor and he knew if he didn't go to her there would hell to pay. Mike realized that to someone just walking into the room, it would be a very compromising tableau. It wasn't and he needed to put things back to a normal appearance. He did the only thing he could think of. He slid his legs apart and let Phyllis gently slide to the floor where he was between his legs. As Mike stood up to go to Liz, she chose that moment to regain consciousness. From her perspective, Phil now had his face buried in her husband's crotch. This was more than she could take and she fainted again. Mike managed to untangle himself from Phyllis and rested her head on the seat. He went to his wife and carried her to the couch. Then he hurried to his medicine cabinet and retrieved the smelling salts. Entering his study, he was at a crossroads. Which patient should he revive first? If he woke Liz first, she would have a million questions and an unconscious Phyllis might only complicate things. Actually, the presence of Phyllis at all would be a problem, so he left his wife slumbering on the couch and his feminized son-in-law asleep on the floor while he called for a taxi. Once the taxi was on its way, he went to Phyllis and gave her a good whiff of the ammonium carbonate. Phyllis was alert almost immediately. With Mike's help, he got to his feet and asked, "What happened?" "It's my guess you had a panic attack, caused by persistent anxiety. It's either that or you're pregnant." Joked Mike. Mike's attempt at humour fell flat as Phyllis made a face and said, "Dad, that's not funny. I'll talk to you later. I'm out of here, I have patients waiting." "SIT DOWN! You are in no shape to drive, I've called you a cab. Liz and I will drop your car off later." Once he had Phyllis safely in the cab, Mike headed back into the house. His plan was to wake Liz and explain things. He just hoped that he would never have to explain why he left them both lying there for so long, but he prayed that neither of them would have a memory of the incident. Mike waited until Phyllis had made a clean getaway before bringing his wife around. Once Liz was revived, she was shaken at what she thought she had seen. Without breaking patient confidentiality, it took Mike the better part of an hour to convince his wife what she had seen was innocuous. Liz eyed her husband skeptically. But reluctantly accepted his explanation that Phyllis simply had too much to drink; but made a mental note to talk with Carol about her husband's daytime drinking. It was bad enough that her son-in-law was parading around like a tarted up floozy. There was no way she was going to stand for any hillbilly romance between Phil and her husband. What would the neighbours think of her husband being involved with a Hermaphrodite? @ @ @ @ Despite what he had said to Mike Phil had no intentions of going back to work. There was no way he could sit and listen to other people talk about their lives while his was so discombobulated. He went home and could feel the chill in the air as Carol gave him 'the look'. So he blew past her with only a nod and locked himself into his bedroom to settle in for some real soul searching. When the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked sweet rolls and dark coffee permeated all the way to his refuge. He couldn't resist and came out to eat. He sat across from Carol who had the paper spread out on the table. He held his cup of coffee in one shaky hand. He was not normally a drinker and he was felling the aftereffects of his alcoholic consumption. He tried to push through his slight hangover and was occupied feeding the hot pastry delight into his mouth. The vibration of his cell phone called for his grudging attention. He glanced at a text message from his receptionist complaining about the flood of phone calls from people requesting appointments. She added a post script that his office was mobbed, it was standing room only. He was bewildered by his sudden popularity. His confusion began to clear when Carol showed him the newspaper article. The San Francisco Chronicle Magazine section had a front page spread on the area's most successful transgender psychotherapist. It seemed that he had been selected as the Transgender Person of the Year. The paper only had a grainy out-of-focus picture of him in silhouette that made his face hard to identify. However, it did capture him in his favourite form fitting lilac dress. The paper had an accurate description of his profession qualification. It didn't elaborate, rather it tended to focus on as they called it, his 'exquisite figure' In the past few months, Phyllis had gained a reputation among his patients and prospective patients as being very competent as well as being built like a 'brick shit house'. He had been recognized a few times when he was out and about in public, more often than not it was his Rubenesque physique rather than his face that people recalled. The only good news is that he still had his privacy at home. His status as a man in transition was no secret to his patients or anyone in the LGBT community, it had become general knowledge among the tightknit transsexual population. Not that it really mattered much to the general populace, particularly in San Francisco. While Phil was not all that concerned about having his secret of being a feminized male known, it was something that he was perfectly happy to not bandy about. He turned his attention to the newspaper. The article didn't identify who he had been before his transition, which was all he really cared about. However, it did list his office name and address. The reason for the flood of new perspective patients was suddenly clear. @ @ @ @ It had come as a total surprise when Carol had shown him the newspaper article as it wasn't something that he had been competing for and he would not have volunteered for it if he had a choice. Phil was honoured; but didn't think much more about it, other than he would need a new dress for the awards banquet. Little did he realize the life changing ramifications of his being outed in such a public way. The practice that he shared with others was suddenly even more popular than it had been before. While there were requests to see Doctor Brown, new patients were willing to see his co-workers as long as they had a chance to consult with him as well. All the publicity had a positive effect on Phil. He was so busy he seldom had time for lunch, he dropped a full dress size. During one of the breaks he was able to get between his appointments, Phil reviewed messages that had come in while he was busy. The first was from Josephine Morton who was transitioning from Edward and she needed some reinforcement in her confidence. Phil didn't mind, that was his job and he found that he enjoyed helping his patients find their way. The second message was from a local journalist who wanted an interview as part of Doctor Phyllis Brown's selection as Transgender Person of the Year. He told his receptionist to tell the reporter he didn't give interviews. Home life settled down. At first, Phyllis was undecided about accepting the award because he felt like a fraud. After all, his gender swapping was not voluntary. Mike counselled him against forgoing the honour, pointing out it might be considered a slight to the LGBT community, one Phil had come to have great empathy for. Phyllis resigned himself to the publicity and went to work on his acceptance speech, determined to be the best transgender representative he could be. The speech would not be 100% honest, he was willing to stretch the truth concerning his personal journey from man to woman for the sake of his audience. He was determined to respect the people who were struggling with their true gender identities. Carol forgot about her experiment at masculinity and decided she didn't want to know why her husband had been frequenting strip clubs. Believing what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Still...Carol attempted to win her husband back. She wasn't overly aggressive; most nights she was content to simply canoodle on the couch with Phyllis. Slowly, Phyllis began to respond and on a rare occasion would even make slow lesbian love to Carol. In her life Carol never even considered getting romantically involved with another woman. Now that had changed. Her rationalization was that Phyllis the one person in this world she loved was for all intent and purposes a woman, but was still her husband. Phil had always been a considerate lover. Now things were different. Phil had always treated sex more like a sprint. Phyllis approached sex like it was a slow waltz. He was more tender and considerate during love making. Then there was the other thing. Phil had never been enthusiastic about oral sex. Phyllis on the other had had become a virtuoso at cunnilingus. The only problem from Carol's point of view was Phyllis's low libido. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy pleasuring his wife, it was that his atrophied flaccid manhood prevented her from returning the favour. His little man did enjoy his wife's oral manipulations, it is just that it always left him hanging, felling unfulfilled. Carol had watched her husbands practice skyrocket since he became a she. The transgender community flocked to the man with the gigantic tits and understanding manner. She was jealous as her own medical practice had flat lined. She saw the transgender community as an untapped gold mind for her surgical services. Her husbands practice had flourished and she saw no reason why hers couldn't benefit as well. As the night of Phyllis's awards banquet approached. She planned to use the gala to get her name out there. She did not see that her mind-set was still very much self-oriented. Neither did she stop to think about the fact that her own actions had caused this state of affairs. Phyllis was initially reluctant to have Carol join him, in his mind she was still a bit of a loose cannon. He also didn't like the idea of flaunting his femininity in front of his wife. After a lot of reflection, he could see her point so he gave in at her insistence that they were still a couple and she wanted to share his big night. Surprisingly, it was Phyllis that brought up the idea of getting new outfits for the banquet, explaining that he had lost some weight and wanted to look his best. Carol also had her reasons for wanting her husband to look as beautiful as possible. The two had a great time shopping for dresses together, it was a truly feminine bonding experience. The only disagreement came over the actual selection of a gown for Phyllis. He wanted to wear a plain loose fitting formal, to de- accentuate his exaggerated figure. Carol had a preconceived idea on what a group of transvestites would wear and argued vigorously for a form fitting flamboyant outfit that would show off her handiwork. In the end they compromised. Phyllis selected a drab grey gown with a very risqu? neckline that plunged halfway to his navel. For herself, Carol decided on a very feminine pink chiffon lace A-line floor length dress. The morning of the ceremonies, both ladies had appointments at Carol's beauty salon. Carol pre-ordered what she wanted for both of them. She got a Bettie Page cut with bangs cut straight across the high forehead. Phyllis wanted his hair simply long and flowing down to his shoulders, but Carol wouldn't hear of it. She threatened to throw a public tantrum unless he agreed to her selected hair style. There was no way she would allow him to hide behind a curtain of hair. She insisted he have a fashionable updo with his hair twisted on top of his head in an elaborate bun combined with feminine loose side bangs. In Carol's mind, the purpose was less high fashion and more about illuminating all of his feminine enhancements she had performed. They both had a total makeover, Carol having ordered a dramatic look for both of them. As they were getting dressed for the banquet another disagreement surfaced. Carol had laid out an assortment of oversized silver rhinestone jewellery. Phyllis was still disgruntled, and threatened to stay home if Carol insisted he go looking like a drag queen. Carol temporarily conceded. While Carol was finishing her dressing, Phyllis found himself board and killing time. Surfing the net was always a good time waster, so he opened the family laptop sitting on the counter. He found that Carol had not closer her last page, but had only minimized it. Out of curiosity, he retrieved it to discover that it was a Google search for the word 'Pegged' a term he was unfamiliar with. What he read sent him into a dizzying fit of rage. He continued to scan the page and found himself captivated by some of the testimonials. He had no idea men enjoyed being penetrated by their female partners with a strap on. It opened his eyes to some of the things his patients had only hinted at. His anger settled into dismay. Where had his uptight church going wife ever heard of such a thing? He decided to talk it over with Mike before confronting Carol about it. Phil shut down the machine after clearing the history. Carol came out of the bedroom in jovial spirits and the two headed out for a night of merriment. Each grabbed their respective purses and stepped onto their front porch. Phil was shocked to see a stretch limo waiting in their driveway. It was a surprise from his wife. With his luck it is probably filled with male strippers. Carol took him by the arm and led him to the car, the chauffeur graciously opened the rear door and helped the ladies enter. On the way to the awards ceremony, Carol snuggled up to her husband and asked for his wedding ring. A bewildered Phil meekly complied. Carol then took his ring finger and slipped on her engagement ring saying she had it resized for him; but after tonight she wanted it back. While her husband was still in shock, she put two gaudy dinner rings on his other fingers, saying, "A girl needs a little bling. Phil was again questioning the wisdom of attending this ceremony. When he mentioned this to Carol, she was having none of it and sternly snapped, "Think about our practices, money can't buy this sort of publicity." To avoid a fight, he gave into her wishes and became resigned to enjoy his 15 minutes of fame. The ballroom was festooned with colourful rainbow banners. Carol had timed their arrival to be fashionably late and the hall was already crowded. Carol stood at the entrance and marvelled at the sight before her. She expected a room full of flamboyant swishy drag queens. What she saw were men in Armani tuxedos and woman elegantly dressed in fashionable Prada, Gucci, Dior, and Valentino gowns. City dignitaries were sprinkled throughout the room freely mingling with the avant-garde guests. She stood transfixed, a 16-piece mariachi band played in the background as scantily clad waitresses looking like they had been recruited out of a playboy club circulated throughout the crowd offering appetizers and liquid refreshments. As one particularly attractive server with a queen sized rack passed, Phil gawked in appreciation. Carol stopped the waitress and procured two champagne flutes off her tray. She gave Phyllis a look of disapproval and told him to close his mouth. Then she gave him a big theatrical wink. The quest of honour stood at the entrance, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot unsure of what to do or where to go. A handsome tall tanned man in a well-tailored tux approached, made a slight bow and inquired, "Doctor Brown?" "Guilty as charged," was Phil's response. The man's his face cracked into a wide smile. He shook hands with Carol and gave Phyllis a two cheek kiss. He said, "Please follow me I'll take you to your seat." He offered his arm to Phyllis and led them to the head table. He pulled out a chair for Phyllis and assisted her sitting. Carol stood stoically waiting for a similar gallant gesture. Instead, the man spun on the balls of his feet and was immediately swallowed up in the crowd. Carol fumed and felt foolish standing by herself. In a pout, she pulled her chair out and seated herself. She waved for a server and snatched two drinks off her tray unconcerned of what they were and told the girl to keep them coming. Carol realized that Phyllis was going to be given the royal treatment while she was being considered nothing more than a companion. She was going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the night, she sipped her drinks and tried to devise a way to turn the spotlight onto her skills as a brilliant cosmetic surgeon. After all, without her none of this would have been possible. After a few minutes, a couple dressed in formal attire, one in a tux the other in an ivory lace short wedding gown, introduced themselves as Shyla and Oliver transgender persons who started life in the other sex, now man and wife. They led him to the dais, where they took positions on each side of him. They each had a handheld microphone, they signaled for quiet. They spent the next 15 minutes in a tag team routine articulating Phyllis's accolades concerning his work with patients undergoing gender dysphoria. At the end, he was presented with a plaque in commemoration of the award. Phyllis started to return to her seat when Shyla said "not so fast, little lady." She then handed Phyllis a paper bag with something in it. A bewildered Phyllis peaked into the bag and blushed crimson. The woman, in a husky voice, announced to the audience, "In addition to the plaque the doctor had also won a year's subscription to playgirl magazine." The crowd appalled politely. Oliver then handed Phyllis another bag and announced, "To be fair the doctor has also won a subscription to Playboy magazine." Now the crowd erupted in applause and laughter. Phyllis thanked the presenters with a wry smile, put his magazines down on the podium, and took up the mike. The crowd leapt to their feet and applauded with great vigor. Phyllis asked for quiet and said, "Thank you for this award, I honestly don't feel I deserve it; because I'm not really one of you." The statement generated a collective gasp from the audience. A hushed silence then fell over the massive room. "Why do I say that? Because I never asked to be a woman. Growing up, I always thought of myself as a man. Sure that at some point, when I was very young I experimented wearing my mother's clothes. But what little boy has never done that. I have only disjointed and vague memories as to why I did that. My awakening to the feminine existence came late in life. It was a decision that was taken out of my control. In my case, it was almost like I had a hallucinogenic dream. I just woke up one morning and discovered I was a man in a woman's body." He had struggled with what he would say in the acceptance speech that he knew he would be expected to say. He couldn't just tell everyone 'Thanks' and sit down. He meant what he said when he felt like a poser in the company of everyone here, but to tell them that he had been forced into this lifestyle would be a slap in the face. He also could not lie to them as to how he had come to this. So he fought for a combination of truth liberally salted with fiction. "It wasn't something I asked for. It just happened, my first reaction when I grasped I would be viewed as a transgender woman was fear of ridicule and rejection, followed by anger and asking 'why me?' I went to sleep as a normal married man and woke looking like the woman you see before you tonight. At first, I did not want this lifestyle." Pointing to the sky he intoned, "I was filled with anger at who or whatever had made me this way. It is not like any of us had a choice to being the way we are. I grieved, wanting my simpler, if dull, life back. In my male existence, I never considered myself to be unhappy. My life was safe, but not honest. It wasn't until I secured my first bra, and fitted real breasts into the cups did I realize what happiness was all about. It took a while before I was able to let go of my anger, acquiesced and accepted my alter-ego." Phyllis hefted her boobs up with both hands. "As you can see, my happiness cups runneth over. I may have dived too deeply into the pool of joy." The crowd snickered at the small joke. "The thought I would someday stand before an assembly of strangers in high heels, wearing makeup, and dressed in a designer dress was incomprehensible. Yet here I am and a better person for the opportunity. This honor overwhelms me. Just being considered a member of the distinguished body of transgender persons is humbling. Being selected as the woman of the year is awe-inspiring. Thank you all." Carol had not heard Phyllis' speech prior to this evening and she knew that some of Phyllis' comments were about her specifically. Carol had a bad feeling she wasn't going to like where this was going and threw down another cocktail. Phyllis held up the plaque and read the inscription, 'Transgender woman of the year'. He continued, "Let me ask the question is being transgender the same thing as being transsexual? For simplicity, a transsexual is a person whose inner sense of gender identity and brain patterns are completely the opposite of what physical form they are born into. We have all heard the phrase "born in the wrong body". This is a recognized medical condition which is completely unrelated to sexuality or sexual preference. While a transgender individual is a person who wants to be able to decide for themselves the gender they which to be identified with. I appreciate you viewing me being a transgender but that is not the group I identify with. If anyone asks me what I am, I will wholeheartedly respond I am a woman. Hear me roar." "I should mention I have also always been very drawn to women's clothes. As a man, I was a mere observer, but I can fully participate now. I feel so much more comfortable in them. You may find it hard to believe that I even love wearing high heels and corsets. They make me feel so much more affirmed, so much more myself. I like the flowiness of skirts, and the cuteness expressed by bows and lace." Carol smiled and waved a waitress over with her new drink order. She was feeling no pain and she was proud of the creature she had turned her husband into and apparently he too was happy with what she did to him. From what she was hearing, it was obvious what she did was truly appreciated by her husband. It was like a weight had been lifted from her soul. For the first time she felt she had been right to turn him into a woman. The audience applauded. Phyllis waited for it to quiet down and went on. "I was once asked what I liked best about being a woman. The answer to me was easy, it's big boobs and long hair. I believe long hair expresses something from inside me; the same flowiness that I associate with long skirts. I actually think that these things are all somehow innate to me. My internal gender gravitates to things cute, tender, radiant, and beautiful. By beautiful, I mean beautiful in the way a flower is beautiful: radiating beauty; being beautiful for the sake of beauty itself, not merely as a byproduct of functionality." "This evening, standing in front of a looking glass waiting to come here, for the first time in my life I was proud of what looked back at me. Pride is considered one of the seven deadly sins. However, I feel proud at not only how I look but at who I have become. For once my inner self matches my physical form. Let me encourage those of you that are still struggling between the two inner and outer identities. We are not alone. Transsexuality occurs in equal numbers across male and females. Estimates run as high as 1 in 30,000 people are born with this condition. Only a small portion of those have the opportunity to do something about their feelings. Looking out at those in attendance, we seem to be among the lucky few. Let's not use this night to honor me but rather celebrate who we all are." "Let me offer you non-transgender individuals this question: If someone offered you ten million dollars on the condition that you live as the other sex for the rest of your life. Would you accept?" The non-trans guests seemed nervous and tended to suddenly acquire an interest at what was on the floor. Phyllis continued, "People have varying reactions to this scenario. It is obvious most have never stopped to think about. It is felt with varying levels of certainty that most people would not take the money. Imagine how we in the transgender community feel when we are told we cannot live the life of our inner personality and must present a gender not of our choosing." "For us here, there is always the matter of the body. Most transgender people dream of having a body that is in accordance with our internal gender, and they work hard to reconstruct their body in that mold. Though we do want people to see us as who we really are, I think the primary reason for wanting to change our bodies is internal. This is who we feel we are, and gender dysphoria makes sure we never forget it." "Once I accepted who I was, a feeling what I can only describe as a sense of euphoria overtook me. Let's have a toast to us!" His speech produced another standing ovation. Phil let it go on and sadly reflected on the fact most of what he just said was, if not a lie a strong distortion of the truth. But if he spoke the actual truth, he would be disrespecting these good people around him. Carol stood and the people around her table gushed over what was said and how beautiful doctor Brown was. In her inebriated state, she just could not take it anymore. She rushed the stage and ripped the microphone out of Phil's hand. The crowd paused to watch Carol's imitation of Kanye West. Coral stepped forward and spoke those fateful words. "Thank you all. I'm Carol Brown plastic surgeon extraordinaire and the doctor's wife. I'm the one that made my husband into the woman he is today." She started to give her phone number and business location but someone turned off the microphone so it went unheard. @ @ @ @ As much as Phil wanted to escape from the ballroom and get home again where he felt comfortable, manners made him accept requests to attend a more intimate reception in a side room. One of his hosts was sharp enough to recognized Carol's inebriated state and managed to divert her off to another room by cleverly asking her about what she had been trying to tell the audience after Phyllis' speech. Phil only noticed peripherally that Carol was leaving with a handful of others, but he was quickly distracted by some of the polite questions that were being posed to him. Some questions were inane like, 'How did he feel when confronted with someone who could not accept his transition?' or 'Did he like the same things after his transition that he had before?' The answers were obvious and he gave polite answers even when he wanted to point out how foolish the enquiries sounded. Phil knew that being outed to the entire Bay area community meant that he would no longer be the anonymous, being a large busted woman would make anyone stand out. Being a man with a pretty face, long hair and Texas sized boobs make anonymity impossible. Other questions he was glad to address like 'How best to help a relative who was not sure about their gender or just sexual orientation?' The answer to that one was simple: Just love them and help them to find the help they needed. Finding a mental health professional that they were comfortable with was very important. There was no guarantee that there would be a good fit between care provider and the patient right off the bat. Phil had had his share of patients that he just did not seem to click with and he always helped them with referrals to other providers. @ @ @ @ Carol's small group found themselves in a secluded alcove with its own minibar, staffed with a bartender. Periodically, waitresses flittered in and out getting drink orders. Carol took full advantage of the situation and positioned herself next to the bar. As a result, her champagne glass was never empty. As the evening wore on Carol's vision began to blur as she was feeling no pain. Even in her inebriated state she could tell a number of her entourage were men appearing as women, some quite convincingly. Once removed from the presence of her husband, the celebrity, she was peppered with questions about her services. Carol held court and boasted about her talents as a surgeon. The pretenders, slowly elbowed the non-trans Cisgender people away and tightly encircled Carol. The star struck admirers hung on her ever word. They took her at her word that she was the architect of the goddess Phyllis. They were curious how their bodies could be altered similarly. Rather than talk to them individually Carol gathered the woman wannabes and provided them a free consultation. She scrutinized each closely and summarized their faults, and how she could correct them - for a price after all she was not operating a charity. Her arrogant bragging eventually became wearisome, and her audience slowly slipped away to the point it was finally reduced to a single irritating man. He didn't want to hear about generalities, rather he persistently kept bringing Carol back to details concerning Phyllis. He challenged her for specifics. Carol threw done another flute of champagne and began to sway on her feet. She lost her balance and almost fell catching herself on the corner of the portable bar. The bartender rushed out and assisted Carol into a nearby chair. The pest of a reporter stood over her and made it obvious he questioned her truthfulness. He persisted by saying he wouldn't believe her unless she could provide a detailed list of exactly what she was taking credit for. Carol was offended, no one had ever challenged her veracity before. To prove what she was saying was the truth Carol gave the annoying man a detailed list of the procedures she performed on her husband. When she was finished, he had one big question. "Was Phyllis technically still a man and was he really her husband?" She insisted, "He is and still is my legally wed husband." The reporter wanted to ask why she turned her husband into a she-male, but she slumped into the chair and appeared to lose consciousness. So he was forced to end his interview. The helpful bar tender, called a cab for the drunken lady, found her address in her purse and helped her into the cab and relayed the address to the driver. Phil was a little miffed when he went to leave and couldn't find his wife. After checking every space, even the bathrooms for her, he gave up and took a taxi home, luckily he always carried mad money in a secret compartment in his bra. Arriving home, he found Carol passed out and sprawled in the middle of their bed. He was still energized from the night; but took the easy way out. After getting cleaned up, he hung up his dress, threw his delicates into the hamper for washing later and slipped into his long silk nightgown and slept in the guest bedroom. Phyllis slept late, but found his wife still passed out on the bed, never haven even gotten under the covers. He went and put on the coffee then stepped out to retrieve the morning paper. He spread the paper out on the table and was enjoying his first cup of the black elixir of life. When he reached the entertainment section he was surprised to see a full cover page of his award. The bay area had a strong contingent of transgender people, but never had they received this kind of notoriety. Phil thought that his agreement to accept the award might have a positive effect of the transgender community. His opinion changed to rage as he read the article under his picture, a rather flattering one that accentuated his feminine figure. Then, shockingly, he saw that they had somehow gotten his high school graduation photo. They displayed it side by side with his current picture. It was followed by a picture of his wife. There were a few flattering comments on Carol's skills turning an ordinary looking man into a candidate for a cover girl. The rest was a total hatchet job, ridiculing both him and his wife. The reporter had confirmation from a source close to the doctor that all the procedures performed on Phil which were listed in detail. His informant confirmed it had all been performed without the patient's consent. The writer went so far as to insinuate that Carol had transformed her husband into a shemale in revenge for some undisclosed indiscretion on her husband's part. The amount of accurate detail in the article was disturbing. Phil could only think of one person who knew those specifics - his wife. Loose lips sink ships; Carol's might have torpedoed both of their careers. Absolutely livid with anger, he had to get up and pace. He stood in front of their picture window doing deep breathing exercises to calm down. Eventually, he heard Carol moving about. He poured her a cup of coffee and took it to her along with a couple of aspirins. He sat on the edge of the bed and handed the drink to her. Carol sat up with great bloodshot eyes and her hair a tangled spider web. Her dress was stained from a night of drooling on it. In short, she looked like hell. She popped the offered pills into her mouth without looking at what her husband had handed her and swallowed the coffee with great trepidation, concerned about burning her mouth. She handed him the empty mug and shoved him out of the room so she could get dressed. Phil waited for his wife in the kitchen, where he made himself a cup of tea. He wasn't normally a tea drinker, it just sounded good to him today. He sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the morning sun that streamed through the large window and bathed his face in its warming embrace. He had the paper spread out before him waiting to confront his wife with what he had read. She eventually shuffled into the kitchen, still looking like something the cat had dragged in. She declined his offer of breakfast and dropped into a seat at the table. Once she was seated, Phil spun the paper around and showed her the offending article. He pounded this fist on the table and said "Read this, what do you have to say for yourself!" Carol rubbed her eyes and eventually managed to focus on the paper. She read for a good ten minutes without saying a word. Eventually, she raised her head up and smiled. Her only words were, "Your picture really illustrates what great work I do. He even spelled my name correctly. So it will be easy for other 'girls' like you to find me. I am going to be swamped with work. This is great publicity." Phil spent some time trying to show his wife the negative consequences from this publicity. Carol, between her hangover and excitement, was hearing none of it. She was only focused on the potential good to her surgical practice. She even made a few phone calls searching for a new assistant to handle the anticipated increased workload. She was bewildered at the cause of her husband's anger. As he said in his speech, she had merely let free the woman within. Where was her thanks? Exasperated, Phil finally reached a point where he gave up trying to show Carol that she had overstepped her bounds. He stormed off to the garage and found an overnight bag. He headed to his bathroom, where he used his arm to sweep his hodgepodge of cosmetics into the valise. Proceeding to the bedroom, he filled the small bag to overflowing with underwear and a few of his favorite outfits. He rationalized that, if his departure lasted more than a few days, he could always send for his other things. He stopped to say goodbye to Carol. She barely took the phone away from her ear to ask where he was going. He replied, "As strange as it sounds, I'm headed to your parents' house." Carol smirked at the incongruous response and commented, "What's got your bloomers in a bunch?" Phil merely shook his head in disgust and headed out the front door to his car. Carol rushed to the door and yelled after her feminized husband, "Don't I get a kiss goodbye?" Phil just ignored her jibe and threw his case in the trunk of his tiny subcompact. He squeezed behind the wheel, checked his face in the rearview mirror, and sped off as fast as the three-cylinder car would go. Phil arrived at Mikes place and left his luggage in the car until he could ask if it was alright for him to stay there for a few days. Mike, of course, agreed after being briefed on the latest fiasco his daughter had created. Phil was led to Carol's old room, where he was told to make himself comfortable. He quickly unpacked and made room in the small closet for his few outfits so they wouldn't get too wrinkled. The one womanly chore he truly hated was ironing. He was called to dinner, and sat across from Liz who made it plain in her opinion he must have done something wrong to upset her daughter. Mike merely rolled his eyes but refused to get drawn into that quagmire. After the dishes were cleared and loaded into the dishwasher, Mike invited Phil into his study for a drink and some conversation. A half of bottle of Scotch later, Mike gave up on trying to talk his son-in-law into returning to his home. Phil was determined to strike out on his own. He had finally had it with Carol. During the next two days Phyllis would get up, shower and leave in his car with no explanation to his whereabouts. He would return each afternoon, help Liz make dinner. Despite the fact he helped create the nightly meal, he would only pick at it. After eating and helping with cleanup he would hibernate in his room. Phil's absence had gotten Carol's attention and she repeatedly called her mother to ask about her husband. She invited herself over for coffee one afternoon and Mike greater her with a lukewarm hug. The three of them chatted cordially until Carol insisted her parents stop sheltering her husband and send him home where he belonged. Liz of course sided with her daughter, Mike on the other hand wouldn't budge. The three-way argument became so loud that Mike was afraid that the neighbors would call the cops. Mike, as the voice of reason, put his foot down and declared the discussion over. Phyllis had sanctuary in his home for as long as she wanted to stay. Carol broke down and wailed, sending a torrent of tears down her face. She just couldn't understand why everyone was against her. She rationalized that Phil should be thanking her for what she did and not try and make her feel guilty. All she did was make him into a beautiful looking woman. Hell, she made a very good living off doing that to rich socialites. Her actions led directly to his counseling practice tripling its business. He was getting rich and all it cost him was his family jewels. He had accepted that until she let it slip that he was her husband. She didn't see what the big deal was with people knowing Phyllis was at one time a man. She was after all only looking out for what was best for her career. Liz was turning into a basket case trying to console her daughter and blaming Mike for the whole situation. Mike told Carol he wanted her out of his house before Phyllis returned. That unleased the hounds of hell. He retreated into his study until the estrogen induced whirlwind had died down. Mike voluntarily slept on the couch that night. Exhausted, Mike slept in. Only to be awakened by a hysterical Liz. She handed the phone to Mike and collapsed in his chair. Mike put the phone to his ear and heard his daughter pleading to come back over, something horrible had happened. His first thought was about the welfare of Phyllis. He put his hand over the receiver and asked his wife, "Have you seen Phyllis this morning?" "Why yes, she left here about 45 minutes ago, looking like the tramp he is. She was wearing a scandalous pair of short shorts and a pink t- shirt that accentuated his big bosom. It was so tight I could clearly see her bra straps. Where does a woman go at 7 in the morning looking like that?" Relieved that Phil was alright he went back to the phone. Carol told him when she returned home last night she found a man waiting for her. He served her with a subpoena, she was being investigated for assault and mutilation on Phil. When the California medical board got wind of the possible criminal charges they piled on and sent her a registered letter informing her she was being investigated for possible professional misconduct. She wailed, "I could lose my license and even go to jail." Mike put her on hold and went to his desk and found the number of his lawyer, one of the best in the Bay area. He told Carol to talk to no one and go immediately to see his lawyer, he would call ahead and brief him that she was on her way. When Phil returned home that night he found himself in the middle of a wake. Even the batch of chocolate chip cookies he whipped up could not raise anyone's spirits. Carol was there, she had assumed the fetal position on the couch with her head is Liz's lap and was in the middle of a major pity party because her malpractice insurance had just been cancelled. As he walked by on the way to his bed, Carol sat up and asked if she could spend the night with Phyllis in her old bed. Phil merely shook his head no and said that he needed some alone time to think. Phil hung around for a while, cleaned up the dishes and snuck off to his bedroom. That night, lying in bed and staring into the darkness, he came to a monumental decision. One that he thought would solve his and Carol's problems. The next morning, he stripped his bed and did a load of laundry. He packed up his things and disappeared out the backdoor. He was saddened by the fact that he did not say thank you and goodbye to his hosts but he didn't want to answer any questions about his destination. He drove to his bank and waited 20 minutes in the parking lot for the doors to open. He emptied his private accounts, transferred sufficient funds from his business account to cover the mortgage for the next year. He then went to his safe-deposit box, withdrew his passport, birth certificate, his car title and all the emergency cash he kept in there. His next stop was to a used car lot, where he sold his car. Then he called a taxi to take him to the airport. @ @ @ @ The next few days were the nadir point in Carol's existence. Her husband had run off to god knows where, her lawyer was preparing her for a possible trial. She had moved back into her old bedroom and sucked up all the sympathy her parents gave her. Mostly it was from her mother, infuriatingly her father appeared to be on Phil's side. He had several long talks with her, taking the role of both a loving father and mental health professional. Carol stubbornly refused to admit she bore any responsibility for how things had turned out. She even expressed her anger at her husband, convinced he should be grateful, not resentful because everything she did was done out of love, not malice. If it hadn't been his daughter, Mike would have given up and considered Carol a lost cause. The real breakthrough came when her barrister sat her down and laid out what he had received in the discovery phase of the trial. He showed her what the state had accumulated concerning her reckless behavior toward her husband. There were even affidavits from Sue and Chris, the two who provoked the entire thing. She read them with some trepidation. They were the only ones who knew the truth about her motivation. Carol sighed in relief, it seemed that Sue had developed a convenient case of amnesia. All of her response were the same. "I cannot recall the answer at this time. Chris on the other hand had a lot to say. He testified that 'their' feminine stuff had been kept in a trunk in Phil's garage. He also said he and Phil had spent many hours talking about the challenges of being transgender. On the negative side, someone in her office had turned informant. The quisling rat had provided the state with copies of her files, billing statements and patient records. The state was trying to prove Carol had never gotten a signed release form from Phil before his surgery. Her attorney felt confident that he could get those thrown out because they had not been legally acquired through a search warrant, plus there was the doctor-patient confidentiality issue. What he was hanging his hat on was the fact that not finding the release form in her office files doesn't prove there wasn't one. He avoided asking Carol if she had one someplace else. As the mountain of evidence grew, she became more and more discouraged. There were affidavits from her not-so-loyal staff, which she was beginning to wish she had treated her people better. The negative statements threatened to destroy her ego. There was no way she could survive having to sit in a courtroom and listen to the parade of uncomplimentary witnesses list her perceived personal and professional faults. She finally gave in, told her attorney to work out a plea deal, and headed back to the refuge of her home. Mike took the opportunity to achieve a breakthrough. They attacked the elephant in the room and painstakingly walked through all the decision points that got Carol where she is today. Mike meticulously examined what information Carol based her decisions upon. Then how, rather than communicate with Phil, she rushed to conclusions convinced she knew what was best. Lastly, they discussed what the consequences of her actions were. It took some time before Mike was able to get his daughter to admit that what she had done was her responsibility and that had grievously hurt her husband and destroyed their marriage. Mike did concede she wasn't the only one who had screwed up. Even Phil was not blame free. Carol's family and friends all contributed as well. The bottom line was that everyone was talking, but no one was actually communicating. There was way too much effort put into getting even or even getting ahead in the relationship dynamics. After Carol had finished her second cup of Irish coffee, she sat at her parent's kitchen table and stared out the window lost in thought. She experienced a Eureka moment, followed immediately by an 'Oh S***t' moment. The fog of narcissism lifted and she finally saw the majority of her difficulties were a result of her jumping to conclusions. She also acknowledged she still loved her husband, both as a man and as the woman she had created. The person who she had fallen in love with, not the shell, was who she loved. She would do anything to get him back. If only he would contact her so she could throw herself at his feet and beg his forgiveness. The only good news was that her legal team had convinced the local district attorney to stop pursuing legal action on the condition that she suspend her medical practice, pending the outcome of her Licensing Board Investigation. A trial date was set, then postponed while the Board tried in vain to locate Phil so he could testify against his wife. During that time, Carol had a minor nervous breakdown and had to be briefly hospitalized. Her lawyers convinced Carol it was a good thing Phyllis could not be located, his testimony would surly damn her. Despite what they said, she continued to search for him. The day of her hearing finally arrived and she was still unable to locate him. Carol woke after a restless night, staring out her bedroom window. A harvest moon glowed orange between scattered clouds. She staggered to the bathroom where she saw dark circles ringing her eyes, giving her the look of a haggard raccoon. She did what she could with makeup, then combed her hair and dressed in her best professional skirt and blouse. The morning had turned dark with menacing black clouds threatening a deluge. She was afraid the weather might be a precursor to her future. She sprinted out to the car, threw her purse in and hopped in behind it. Just as she settled in, the wind picked up and the rain pelted the car in torrents. It was a morning that would give the city of Seattle a run for its money. Her drive to the hearing was uneventful. Carol parked her car, waited briefly for a passing shower to subside to a gentle mist. Taking advantage of the break in the rain, she grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car locking the door. A cool breeze tousled her hair and threatened to do a Marilyn Monroe with her skirt. She breezed through the token security at the courthouse. She made her way to the defendant table and sat next to her lawyer with a dour expression and nervously waited for her witch trial to begin. The prosecutor cut right to the chase in her opening remarks. "I will prove this doctor committed horrific acts of cruelty on her unsuspecting husband. In all likelihood, she went into her chosen profession to help others and must have worked hard in medical school. But at some point, she made some unfortunate choices. I will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that she mutilated and emasculated her husband. She not only turned him into a pseudo woman but made him a caricature of a walking bimbo. She performed surgery on a man identified as her husband without bothering to get his written consent. Operating on a family member is bad enough but to do so without his consent is criminal!" Carol spent the morning, having to listen to a procession of witnesses testify that she performed surgery on a person they claimed was her husband. The defense won some points when Carol's lawyer got her entire staff to admit none of them actually witnessed the surgery, nor could they prove the patient was her husband. They brought in documentation from her pharmacy indicating she had written a prescription to herself for an extremely virulent version of estragon. They were trying to insinuate that not only did she mutilate his body but had him on female hormones. An expert testified on the psychological effects of high levels of estrogen being pumped into a normal male. His exact words were, "The effects can be insidious. Not only would it change a man's secondary sexual characteristics but and would in all probability effect a person's mental outlook." He was asked if he could prove that Phil had taken estrogen. "No, not without a blood sample." It was the response that had been expected. The follow up question was, "Could the hormone levels discussed be debilitating?" The doctor replied, "No. In fact, the patient might even enjoy periods of euphoria brought on by high levels of estrogen." Mike was called to the witness stand. He sat his back ramrod stiff, but he maintained a blank inscrutable expression. His testimony was less than satisfactory as far as the prosecution was concerned. He refused to answer anything that dealt with Phil, claiming doctor patient privilege. However, he was forced to answer the questions: 'Did he know where Phil had been over the past months and had he heard from him?' His response was curt. "I have no personal knowledge of his actual whereabouts. I have not heard from Phyllis directly. Any more than that I can't say." The only other question he answered was how Phil's transition to Phyllis had affected his family. He looked the judge in the eye as he answered, "I always liked Phil. He was a good son-in-law and treated my daughter well. This entire thing has affected my family as I no longer feel I have a son-in-law. However, on the positive side, I find Phyllis to be the best daughter-in-law a man could ever have. Phil, I liked, but I love Phyllis. Does that answer your question?" The defense called Cristopher Donleavy to the stand. The witness's appearance caused a minor stir in the hearing room. The name indicated a man would be coming to the stand. Rather what everyone saw was a tall, heavy-set woman wearing a form-fitting lilac pant suit and matching open toed dress shoes with thin stratospheric heels. She sauntered to the witness chair, set a purse down at her feet, and brushed her long bleach blonde hair back behind her ears. Seated facing the jury, her makeup was sultry and overdone for a morning. She batted his long lashed eyes at the judge and smiled. When asked his name, he said, "Legally, it is still Cristopher Donleavy, but I am in the process of changing it to Chrissie Wilson. Wilson being my ex-wife's maiden name." He was asked by the lawyer "Do you consider yourself and Phil to be homosexuals, transvestites, or transgender women?" Chrissie fiddled with the charm bracelet on his wrist and replied, "By homosexual, if you mean am I attracted to men, I would say generally no. However, there are times, well...you understand. Overall, I prefer the term gender fluid." When he was asked to explain that he said, "It's simple. Sometimes, I feel like a boy, sometimes a girl, sometimes both. But that's me, I can't speak for Phyllis." He was asked if he ever saw Phil distressed over his transformation from a man into an attractive looking woman. Rather than answer the question, he related the story of the night the four ladies, Chrissie, Phyllis, and their wives had a girl's night out. They went out to dinner together and had a grand time. He reminisced about going to the bathroom with Phyllis. She led the way to the 'ladies' room, it was Chrissie's first time in the ultimate bastion of womanhood. He talked about the thrill of standing side by side repairing their makeup from the damage done by dinner. He talked about how they chatted pleasantly and had a jovial time being two ladies. Then Chrissie dropped a bombshell, relating that when they said goodnight Phyllis gave me a kiss on the lips and they both enjoyed it. In desperation, the prosecution asked what he thought about Phil's exaggerated dimensions that were surely intended to belittle and degrade Phil. Chrissie pointed his well-padded bosom toward the jury and gleefully answered, that he never saw anything demeaning about Phyllis's figure. On the contrary, he was envious and had even asked Carol to do the same for him. The defense got its turn when it asked if he thought Phil was happy in his current body. His response was an unequivocal, "Gawd yes! We have been friends for years. The last time we were together he never stopped smiling and appeared comfortable in his new found femininity." @ @ @ @ Carol and her attorney were feeling confident and thought things were leaning their way. That all changed when the prosecutor called her last witness: Doctor Phyllis Brown. Carol gave her lawyer an inquisitive look. He merely shrugged his shoulders. The room became deathly quiet when the rear door swung open. All eyes turned to look. There, framed in the doorway, was a glamorous looking raven-haired woman with a curvaceous figure wearing a red pencil skirt with matching heels. She stood with a relaxed confidence as she scanned the room's occupants. Her gaze eventually settled on the defense table and its residents. Even from a distance, it appeared she had just stepped out of a beauty parlor. Her makeup was dramatic yet tasteful and her perfectly coiffed hair drew your attention only briefly. The one distinguishing physical characteristic that identified her as Phyllis was her oversized breasts. They couldn't be ignored and were clearly her defining feminine characteristic. They were accentuated by a beautiful slightly translucent white silk blouse that showed just a hint of a lacy bra. The bailiff again called for Doctor Brown. The woman at the door raised her hand and answered in a throaty soprano voice, "Here." She surveyed the room like a queen looking out over her court with a devilish gleam. The unexpected appearance of her estranged husband unleased a cornucopia of emotions in Carol. While she was delighted that he had returned, it could only spell trouble if it was as a witness against her. Carol's lawyer closed his briefcase and leaned down and whisper to his client, "We're screwed!" The woman acting as the prosecutor, Miss Dorothy Carlyle, asked the doctor to take the stand. Phyllis moved with the grace of a dancer. The lightweight silk shirt she was wearing moved fluidly with her every step and again drew everyone's attention to her best feature: her chest. She marched to the front, not demurely, but rather in a strong purposeful stride seemingly unconcerned by the way it made her breasts undulate seductively. This obviously was a person comfortable in her femininity. As she passed the defendant's table, she glanced a bit wistfully at Carol. She nodded hello to the judge and took her seat on the well-worn hard backed wooden chair. She rested her purse beside her feet, placed her hands in her lap and waited. She sat in the chair with her expression as stoic as the stone faces on Easter Island. Carol knew this was her husband but there was something different about him, that she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The bailiff asked the witness to identify herself. Then Miss Carlyle, asked if she could identify the plaintiff. Phyllis gave her a look like she was dimwitted. Phyllis looked at Carol and back to the prosecutor before saying, "That is Doctor Carol Brown." Carol shifted uneasily in her seat. She became pale, her hands trembled. A thin sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead. Phyllis sat daintily in the witness chair and crossed her nylon covered legs. The prosecutor commented in what she thought was a friendly manner, "You seem cherry this afternoon." "Why yes I am in a good mood, thank you for noticing. I woke up this morning on the right side of happy town." "May I call you Phyllis?" "Certainly, Dorothy, you may call me Phyllis, but I prefer Doctor Brown if that is alright with you. Now what can I do for you counselor?" Dorothy was totally flustered. This was to be her star witness, now it appeared as if Dr. Brown was going to be a hostile witness. So she decided to take an unorthodox approach. "Doctor Brown, you are certainly an attractive looking woman. You are not what I expected. I was anticipating more a man camouflaged in a dress. We have interviewed over twenty of your past friends, even some old girl friends, but not a one of them mentioned you showed any signs of being a transvestite. Could you please tell us how you came to be this way?" "It was a journey of self-discovery. For my entire life, I felt there was something wrong. It wasn't until I started dealing with men struggling with gender identity that I began to question my own. It took a loving nudge from my wife to open my eyes to what had been missing from my life. With her help, I took the leap and started to live full time as a woman." "Excuse me Doctor, I am confused. You simply went from being a normal looking man to an attractive looking woman." "Thank you. It wasn't easy. At first I was just a man in a dress. I struggled with my presentation. I have always been someone who if I am going to do something I am going to do it to the best of my ability. That is why I engaged my wife's services to transform me from a plain, middle-aged man into the woman you see sitting here." Dorothy gestured to Phyllis' massive chest and commented, "Are you telling this court you asked for these modifications?" Phyllis smiled and pushed her chest out, "I admit my wife and I weren't not on the same page when it came to my bra size. She knew I had always been a tit guy. She took my physical preferences to the extreme. Call it a failure to communicate. But that doesn't alter the fact that I indeed asked Dr. Brown to make me look not only like a woman but as an attractive/sexy one as possible." Carol almost came out of her chair in surprise. She knew she had screwed up with what she did to Phil. But it seemed that his revisionist history said that he had forgiven her. With her case crumbling before her, the prosecutor was rapidly losing her cool, "Let's cut to the chase." Picking up a piece of paper, Dorothy read, "I have a list of procedures that were reportedly performed on you by your wife. I want a yes or no answer if these were in fact performed on you: Breast augmentation, you were castrated, your voice was altered, your entire body had electrolysis, your lips injected with collagen, your ears, tongue and nose were pierced, your waist underwent liposuction, with the fat being injected into your hips and buttocks, and lastly you had eye and lip makeup tattooed on your face." "Yes, those things were all done to me. But I can't say for sure my wife did them. I was asleep at the time." "Did you actually ask your wife to perform these modifications to your body? Before you answer let me remind you that you are under oath. There is no written consent form that you signed. Our records indicate she actually removed your testes. Let me ask you: did Doctor Brown perform an orchiectomy on you?" Phyllis paused and took a depth breath. What he spoke again it was in a soft controlled tone. "I may not have signed anything. I can't really remember." "Aha so you admit you never requested your feminization surgeries!" "Yeesh, you really like to jump to conclusions. I made my desires clear through other ways. As a married couple, we communicated other ways than through words. Call it ESP or call it a sensitivity to a person's micro expressions. There are hundreds of ways a couple converse, a special look, a touch." "That is interesting, but ESP is not legally admissible." Phyllis bent over and retrieved her purse, opening it and withdrawing a piece of paper. Handing it to the Judge she said, "Your honor, my wife had my full medical power of attorney. I am not a lawyer but it seems to me she was allowed to perform those surgeries even if I didn't sign a consent form." "You wanted her to do that to you. It seems a bit drastic. Why would any man want that?" "Not that it is any of your business, but I did it out of love. Our sex life was inadequate, we seldom made love as man and wife. I had a comically small penis, so it's was no BIG loss. "Losing my balls was at first distressful, but the positive affect of getting them out of the way made my clothes fit better. And it freed me up of all that nasty testosterone they kept pumping into my system. Besides, I had pussy envy." That obviously shocked the woman prosecutor. Phil put his psychiatric counselor hat on and explained there are many men, even non-transgender ones, that have womb and vagina envy. It denotes the envy that men may feel towards a woman's primary role in nurturing and sustaining life. It denotes the anxiety many men feel caused by jealousy of the biological functions of the female sex: such as multiple orgasms, pregnancy, childbirth, and breast feeding. "You're a woman you know sex is even better when there is no recovery time. As a man it was wham, bam. A great 30 seconds, then nothing for hours. Who would want that? "All in all, I enjoyed my time in the gender halfway house. When Carol let the cat out of the bag, that Doctor Brown was a man hiding behind ten pounds of boobs, it proved to be the impetus I needed to complete my transition." Dorothy could see that she was losing control of her case and tried to gain control over the person she had thought would be the linchpin of the trial. "That is all interesting but it has nothing to do with this hearing." "Quite the contrary, it has everything to do with this hearing. Carol did everything short of SRS to make me a woman. That was done not out of malice, rather out of overwhelming love. We were married and as close as any two people could be.