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Sunshine By Virginia Kane Standard caveat applies. Please do not post onto any other website without express written permission of the authoress. If reading explicit adult fiction is illegal where you live, or if you are not yet eighteen years of age, read no further and go do something innocent and constructive. 1. As was my usual recreational respite, I was window shopping at the mall one Friday evening, when a tall, mature man approached and inquired of me, addressing me by my name. He asked if I was available to talk with him for a few minutes. "You obviously know who I am. May I ask what this is about?" I asked. "I prefer to not address my interest in you here in a busy traffic area of the mall. I'll really much prefer to have you join me for a cup of refreshment at the mall's concession area, though. I promise to be brief." "Again, I'm asking you what this is about. You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I don't recall ever meeting you, and I don't know how or why you know my name. I'm not in the habit of talking with total strangers who may or may not have legitimate reasons for interrupting my normal evening's exercise routine, so if you don't mind, I'd like to be on my way. Good evening, sir." "Don't be too hasty. If you really wish to know who I am, I'll tell you. My name is Tom Stone, though who I am is of little consequence. Your normal evening exercise routine is what I'd like to discuss with you, --- over some coffee or another non-alcoholic beverage if you'd prefer." He handed me his business card which indicated his association was with a security service. Oops! He added: "I've been observing your normal evening exercise routine for a while now, and have some questions about it that you can easily clear up, unless you have an objection to my inquiring." "What about my evening strolls through the mall do you find interesting enough to confront me regarding them? There's nothing illegal about doing what I do. Lots of men use this mall to pass time and enjoy the - -- scenery." "Yes, of course they do; nothing illegal. However, if you reject my offer to discuss the matter civilly and in private, I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the mall's security office, where a witness will observe, record and if need be substantiate your responses to my observations. Bob, I'm trying to provide you an opportunity to explain your recent actions with as much tact as I can. I'd much rather not involve others at this point in time." "Oh, I get it! You're trying to shake me down! Listen pal, you're wasting your time. I haven't got any money to speak of, and nothing worth selling to raise any appreciable cash, so go find some other sucker to bleed." "You have it all wrong. I don't want your money. If anything, I'm trying to save you some. If we should proceed to the mall's security office, you'll be in need of the services on an attorney, which can be costly. I don't want to encumber you with that necessity. Why don't we go discuss this over some coffee? Once you clarify your motives regarding your evening walks, I'm sure we can reach an amicable understanding that's mutually beneficial." "Beneficial? That's a laugh. First you threaten me, now you claim we can easily reach a mutually beneficial understanding? I doubt it." "Provide me with ten minutes of your time, and I can prove to you that I'm not out to do you any harm, cost you any money or am out to blackmail you in any way. Okay" At this point, he unzipped his jacket and exposed a pair of handcuffs that were hanging from his belt on one side and a pistol on the other, as well as a shiny badge on his vest. "Otherwise, I'm afraid I'm about to incite a somewhat embarrassing situation." "Okay, coffee it is. I guess I can spare ten minutes of my time. I promise you'll have my undivided attention, Mr. Stone. Please lead the way." "I prefer if you'll lead the way, Mr. Rivers. You've been to the concession area often enough to know how to get there from here. There's a very quaint Italian restaurant just before you reach the main concession area. They have small private alcoves available where we can converse freely without being disturbed." As we walked toward the concession stands, he caught up to me, so we were walking side by side. "Private alcove, you say. That's convenient. How will I know the booth we'll be in isn't bugged?" "You have my word on it. You claim you haven't done anything illegal, so why be so concerned? Don't worry about it. Right now, I'm the only one to have any evidence of your improper behavior." "My ---, first you said I haven't done anything illegal. Now you're claiming to have some evidence regarding my improper behavior. Which is it? If you have some proof that I've done anything wrong, let's have it!" We arrived at the restaurant. "Calm down. Please lower your tone of voice, Mr. Rivers. This is merely an inquiry, not a service of warrant. Believe me, if an arrest warrant was my intent, I could have served you with one when I first approached you on the concourse. Let me provide you with what I have in the way of evidence, and ask you a few questions. Afterwards, if you feel you are being hustled by me, you can report me to the mall's management." As we entered the restaurant, he mentioned to the head waiter that he wanted a private booth, and a decanter of coffee for him and his business associate. We proceeded to the inner sanctum and got situated. After a waiter provided us with a decanter of coffee, Mr. Stone reached in his jacket. From an inside pocket he produced an envelope, opened it and slid out a stack of photos. The first half-dozen photographs he displayed were of my back, looking into various store windows. The stores were the famous ones featuring women's lingerie. "So, is there a law against admiring women's lingerie? If there is, a great majority of men are violating it." "There's no law against admiring fine women's lingerie. In fact, I personally find delicate lingerie very fascinating. In that respect, you and I have a lot in common. We both appreciate the effect lingerie has on a person's contours. Now, take a look at these close ups of the backs of your thighs. It's plain to see that you are wearing a long-leg panty under your pants in them." "They're nylon boy-shorts. I wear them because they are very comfortable." "Oh, are they? Fit kind of snug. Don't they? Do you always wear them? " "I do during my evening exercise routine. I like the way the snugness feels, and no one knows --- oh, no one, but you, I suppose. Why did you take these photos of me? I wasn't bothering anyone." He then spread out another half-dozen close-up photos of my legs while at the mall, walking along. "What are you wearing under your outerwear in these photos, a corset?" Tabs from garters were barely visible on the backs of my legs in one photo, and on the front of my legs, in another. I gulped. "I guess you got me, there. Sometimes, I like the persistent feel of constraint a corset provides to the torso, and enjoy the soft almost silent swish of a pair of nylon stockings. I envy women and their right to adorn themselves with such luxury. If there are any laws against it, I suppose I'm guilty as hell." "It may not be universally acceptable by the public at large, but far as I can tell, there's no law against a man wearing women's undies unless you incite public derision by exposing yourself indecently." "No! I only do it for my own personal enjoyment. I'm not hurting anyone, as far as I can tell. What has my habit have to do with mall security?" "Nothing, nothing at all, that's why I wanted to discuss your penchant for wearing feminine undies for your personal pleasure with you here in private and not before any witnesses. Like I said earlier, we share an appreciation of the feminine form in all its glory. Unfortunately, in my position, I'm unable to indulge personally, shaving my body hair off or depilating like you can." "Whoa! How do you know I use a depilatory? What business is it of yours?" "I've seen you buy it, and what else would you buy it for? You know, Bob, you ought to buy stuff like that on line instead of at retailers. The same goes for buying your unmentionables. If you buy them on line, no one would see you at the register while the cashier rings the purchases up. " "You know who I am, so I assume you know where I live and where I work. Are you going to ---?" "If I was out to blackmail you, I sure wouldn't let you know who I am. I'd have E-mailed you from a computer purchased second hand, preloaded with a hi-jacked software package, so you couldn't track me down." "Let's be honest. Shall we? What exactly is your game?" "I'm being as straight-forward with you as I can so that you will feel you have no cause to fear me. My only game is to help you to indulge in your fetish, and in so doing, indulge in mine, which is voyeurism." "You'd just like to watch me? That's odd. Lately, I've been thinking of what it would be like to let someone else see me in feminine lingerie. I'm still too new at doing this to know what looks good on me and what doesn't. I'd like to hear someone else's opinion. No touching though; just your opinions!" "In that case, I'm sure we can arrive at an agreement regarding the limits of our similar interests, I certainly won't take advantage of your willingness to share your adventures with me. Rest assured; you need not fear my exposing you, oh, no! Instead I swear to keep your secret safe. I only want to support you in your unusual hobby. I may even underwrite it, as well, if you'd like!" "You'd underwrite it? I don't get it. Are you gay, because you don't seem to be to me? I'm definitely not! If all that you want to do is just to observe me wearing lingerie within the confines of my place, then, maybe we can come to an arrangement. But, watching me is as far as it goes. Understand?" "I understand, perfectly. In fact, I think we should establish a safe word for you to use if you feel I'm encroaching on your personal space. I promise to back off as soon as you use it. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible with me around to critique the advancement of your ability to crossdress." "I have to ask: What did you mean by saying you'd be willing to underwrite my hobby? I believe underwrite is the word you used." "Yes, it was. I want to help you to expand your knowledge and insight into women's wiles, because I'm able to, and I doubt if you are able to put a lot of investment into your hobby, whereas I am. I make a good living doing what I do, a lot better living than most people, and I don't have any other--- diversions. I know a lot about you: where you work, what you are doing for a living, and how much money you make at it, and how much you can afford to splurge on your favorite pastime. If you're at all interested in letting me, I can help you to qualify for a better paying job, a job in which you can even --- explore into your hobby to your heart's content. If there's any chance, you might be interested in that, keep it in mind." "Oh. You're right about one thing. I'm in a dead-end job. I never finished high school, so I've been struggling to get ahead. The evidence of what you know about me is all too obvious, right here on the table in these photos. I wouldn't be surprised if you know where I live, too. You already know that I like the feel of nylon stockings. I put a run in my last good pair, last night. Tell you what! If you buy me three good pair of hold- up nylons at any of the chain stores in the mall, and a pair of black size ten wide women's shoes in patent leather with a heelless vamp, as a sign of good faith, that you are not all talk, I'll wear them for you tonight, attached to a corset I have, the one you saw me wear to the mall. Then, we'll see if I can trust you." "That's sort of what I was hoping you'd say! I'll go do it right away, before the stores close and then I can meet you afterwards at your place, if that's alright with you. I'll ring the doorbell at the outer entry three times in quick succession, so you'll know it's me. What color is your corset? I'll get nylon stockings to match it, besides a pair in regular beige." "I only have one corset. It's black, Okay, but remember, no touching and no funny stuff. I'll let you look at me gussied up all you want until ten o'clock, but if you make one move to touch me, the game is over and you leave." "Ten o'clock? That's only a half an hour! The mall closes at nine. It'll take me a half an hour to get to your place." "It only takes me fifteen minutes. That gives you forty-five, unless you want to make a stop somewhere, first. Don't! Come straight to my place, or don't bother to come. I don't need a drunk on my hands or an overzealous pervert full of liquid courage. Oh, one other thing: leave your gun and handcuffs in your car, along with any mace or other deterrent you cops use." "I'm not a policeman. I'm a security systems analyst. I stop crime before it happens. Watching people on monitors gets boring at times, so observing unusual mall walkers, guys like you, for instance, relieves the boredom. " "You're wasting time. It's nearing Eight. You only have one more hour." Telling him that reminded me that I only had one hour to straighten out the mess I left in my two room apartment. Small as it was, it seemed to get all messed up without my half trying. Besides, I wanted to do a search on him before he got to my place, to see if who he claims he is, is, in fact, who he is. 2. I timed my trip home, to make sure how long it would take him to arrive. It took me fifteen minutes, just as I expected. I figured if he arrives at my place before nine-fifteen, then he left the mall early. If he arrives any later, I won't answer the door. I'll tell him to arrive at nine-fifteen tomorrow: Saturday. The first thing I did when I got to my place was to straighten it up. Then, I checked my Glock, to see that it was loaded and where I could get to it in a hurry. Then, I checked his identity out on my computer. He is who he said he is. He does what he said he does and he's well known in his profession. What I still didn't know was what he expected from me. Why did he want to see me in lingerie? Was he telling the truth? Was he just a part- time voyeur? If he's willing to spurge for some new duds, is it worth the risk of letting him see me wear them? I'd only been fooling around with crossdressing for a few months, six at the most, since my last girlfriend ditched me and left me with a pair of her panties after I gave her the oral sex she insisted I provide. The soft knock on the door came at nine-fifteen. Mr. Stone arrived right on time. He handed me the two packages as soon as I opened the door for him, and I took them from him, smiling. He smiled back. "I bought stockings to fit a size ten. The shoes have a two and a half inch heel. That's what I could find in a size ten on short notice. I hope you weren't hoping for something higher." "I've never worn women's heels before. It's my first pair. I'm not sure I'll be able to walk in them yet. All I have now is a bit of lingerie." "Say, you are new at this. Don't you have any outer wear?" "Not a stitch. I wouldn't know what sizes to buy." "You knew what size shoe to get." "Yeah, one size larger than a man's shoe. I wear a size nine in a man's." "You told me you have a full corset!" "I have sort-of a corset. It's not a boned corset, just a thin, almost transparent one and it's meant to be worn by a woman who wants to look sexy. I bought it about six months ago for a girlfriend just before she dumped me for a guy with a decent looking car. I never got around to giving the outfit to her for a birthday present along with a hint of what I wanted from her. I was hoping that she'd finally reciprocate. Up until then, she allowed me to perform oral sex on her, but that was it. She didn't reciprocate, not yet, leastwise. "After she left me, I started to crossdress one evening by wearing the pair of her panties that she left behind after I had pleased her orally. I like the feel of tightness of the nylon across my butt when I sit down while wearing them." "Did she always leave her panties behind when you pleased her orally?" "No, sometimes she wore crotchless panties, so she didn't have to remove them for me to accommodate her desires. Hey, that's getting personal!" "Did you always do her orally while you were dating her?" "Usually, once she made her desires apparent. Hey, that's personal, too!" "Why don't you get out of your street clothes and put on a pair of your new nylons and your high heeled shoes. You don't have to wear the corset, if you prefer to wear just panties. I'd like to see your butt in a tight pair of panties." "I hope you won't be too disappointed in how I look. If you laugh at the way I look, I think I will just die. It won't take me but a few minutes, but before I go, I have a question for you. Why are you so willing to spend money on an expensive pair of women's shoes for me? Surely seeing me wearing a pair of high heels isn't worth what it must have cost you. What is your real reason?" "What is my real reason? Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm jealous. I'd like to be able to wear them myself, but I can't." "Why can't you?" "I can't risk getting discovered. My primary responsibility is to develop new security systems to thwart thieves' ability to pilfer merchandise from stores in the mall where we met this evening, and in other malls around this state and the surrounding states. "If the wrong person ever got wind of my interest in feminine finery, it could prove disastrous. That's all I'm willing to say on the subject for right now." He looked at his wristwatch to indicate his time with me was growing shorter. "I'm anxious to see you in nylons and a pair of panties." "I'm already wearing panties. Help yourself to a cold soda or a beer from the fridge while I get undressed. Okay?" "Hurry, please, and don't worry! I doubt if I'll laugh at you. You know, you sounded very coquettish just now. I'll bet you'll look cute in a pair of panties and nylons. If your hair was any longer than it is, and you combed it forward at the sides, you could look really cute, as a girl, I mean." "Do you think so? Listen, we can talk later. The time is running short." "Go! Hurry up, or my forty-five minutes will run out before you change." It didn't take long to remove my pants, shoes, socks and shirt. I already had some practice slipping on delicate nylon stockings, but I shuddered inside each time I did it, because it felt so sexy. The black nylons he bought for me were in the right size, with a wide decorative band along the top to attach to garter tabs, if I was wearing a corset. Elastic hidden inside of the band would hold them up without a corset, so I wasn't concerned about their slipping off. I'd never worn a pair of high heel shoes before, so I added them with a bit of trepidation, unsure of how I'd manage walking in them. Once they were on, just standing up in them was a challenge. I had to pace back and forth for a bit, with my hand on the bed rail at the foot of my bed to steady myself. I could feel my calf muscles tense like they never did before, as I first stood up, sensing a difference in my center of balance, as if I was leaning forward all the time. I had to straighten out my back a little to compensate, resulting in thrusting my lower pelvis forward more. That sudden move made walking feel a bit unusual. I could feel my buttocks clenching to compensate for the change in my stance. I liked the sensation! After a bit of practice, I felt more confident that I wouldn't fall on my face the moment I left my bedroom and entered the other room of my apartment. Mr. Stone was sitting where I had left him a few minutes earlier, but he had a can of soda in one hand, and a smile on his face, as if what he saw in me was what he expected to see. Good. He didn't seem disappointed. He had accepted my invitation for him to raid my fridge. I wanted to feel a sense of confidence in his presence, so I walked over to the fridge and took out a can of soda for myself. I turned too quickly as I closed the door to the fridge and my heel caught on the edge of the throw rug I kept by the fridge. Before I could recover from my caught heel, I was lunging across the room turning just in time to land right in Mr. River's lap. "Well, that was a welcome gesture!" "It was totally unintentional, I assure you. I caught a heel on the throw rug." "I saw. Still, it was very nice of you to dispose of the no-touch rule in such short order. I was wondering how I'd go about convincing you to relax more in my presence. As you can see, I'm not taking advantage of the situation, nor do I intend to. However, now that we are comfortable with holding onto one another, you really don't have to get up to run off. Feeling your butt up against my thighs isn't exactly undesirable. Is it?" I immediate sensed an unusual firmness beneath me growing more evident as long as I continued to sit on his lap. "I thought you said you aren't gay." "Well, technically, you said that you didn't think I was. Besides, you hardly look or feel very masculine to me at the moment. You don't have any hair anywhere on your body, none, not anywhere. Why don't you remove your T-shirt and let me see your torso?" "I will if you let me get up and move over to the other end of the couch. It seems too inappropriate for me to be sitting on another man's lap." "Is it inappropriate or undesirable? Which seems more applicable to you?" "I didn't expect to be thrust into a compromising situation with you so soon Mr. Stone. Please take your hands off of my arms, so I can get up." "Certainly, uh, but how shall I address you when you look so irresistibly, and desirably feminine? 'Bob' seems inappropriate to me at the moment." As I was rising up, I asked him: "How should I know? What do you think?" "I think 'Bobbi girl' with an "I" at the end is more appropriate. Don't you?" "Do I look like a girl to you, dressed up, or I should say undressed as I am?" "Not really, but with a bit of inspiration and imagination, I think you could pull it off, easily." "Easily, you say? What makes you think so?" "Go on line and find a tutorial on women's hair styles. You could learn how to coax your lovely looking hair into an androgynous style." His saying that made me put my hand on the side of my head to feel my hair. He said it was lovely. I always considered it neat, but never lovely. As I sat down on the opposite end of the couch, I instinctively put my feet up under my hips and wondered how my hair would look being brushed out into a short hair style. "A good hairdresser can work wonders with blond hair like yours, Bobbi." He had used a feminine diminutive of my name again. "It wouldn't need any tinting at all, well; hardly any. Spit curls and bangs would make your face look far more alluring. I prefer shorter hairdos, not a full head of long curls you see on women these days, but more like a page boy or even a pixie. " The name 'Bobbi' spun around inside of my head. To me, it sounded sexy, too sexy. "Alluring?" He was conning me into changing the way I combed my hair. He had to be, but I loved hearing every word of it. "I, -- I suppose I could grow my hair out, if you're sure it could be combed in a man's style." "A pixie cut really is a man's hair style, --- sort of. It's a style alpha women, women on the go use to look more 'butch'. It'll do for a starter, but I'd much rather see you with a hairstyle that combs over your ears. You'll need a wig styled in that way until your own hair fills out in a few months. I can set you up with a hair stylist in the far south suburbs who will make your hair look like a man's during the day, and a young woman's whenever you wish, just be combing it a little differently." "I can't afford to spend any money on expensive hairdressers or stuff like that. I can barely afford this crummy two-room flat on what I make." "Yeah, I know, that's a bummer. Do you like the work you're doing?" "Not really. I'm a lowly stock clerk. It doesn't pay very well, I'm afraid, but when I apply for better jobs, the interviewers tell me I need my high school diploma, or at least a GED. I don't have either, and I'm not any good at book learning, or I would have stayed in school when I had the chance." "You seem alert and street wise to me. Would you be interested in a job in retail security? If you are, maybe you can qualify to fill a job opening that's coming up pretty soon. I need to hire a younger, entry- level person like you who will be willing to train to work under cover, so to speak, in department stores in various malls around the collar counties. " "Whoa! Sorry Tom, I'm really not qualified. I'd be afraid to even try." "Why? The job isn't hard, though it will entail a three-month long rigorous physical training program, after which you'll be assigned to work with me until you know the ropes. Then, you'll be able to work on your own. Oh, you might be assigned to work in women's departments and get to see the latest styles as they become available, and you'll be able to afford, once you finish the training program and get your first pay raise. The program starts new people off at a low pay rate, so slackers don't apply, but once it recognizes the effort new hires apply to their initial training, the pay raises are quick in coming and the benefits are better than most other employers in the field. "In the meantime, I'll be coaching you, so you'll be able to pass the training program with ease." "If I apply for the job, where will I attend the training program?" "I'll train you for the most part at my office and at the gym in the mall where we met earlier this evening. From what I have already seen of your habits, you'll need to work out every day at the gym at the mall. Membership at the gym will be provided as well as your workout clothes. A complete physical exam will be provided initially, as well, along with regular follow-up exams to assure you are in the best of health during your training period." He leaned over toward me and took my closer arm into his big hand and commented: "You could benefit in many ways from doing some exercise. You're as skinny as a rail, with little muscle tone." "I suppose. I was always the shortest and thinnest kid in my class and took a lot of gruff because of it. It didn't help my ego any either. That's why I'm so unsure of whether or not I should apply for this job you're offering me. I'm not very athletically inclined or energetic." "I find your diminutive stature a plus. It's ideal for the employment position I have in mind for you. You lack the distinct chisel features so many males have that prevent them from appearing authentic when attempting to portray womanhood. The new job I'm recommending may involve you going under cover, so to speak, upon the successful completion of your training," "You'd like to learn to be able to pose as a female in public, wouldn't you? Well, your initial training will help you to bolster your self- confidence more than build you up into a muscle-bound jock, so I wouldn't worry too much about your present physical limitations. Has anyone ever suggested to you that you look too cute for a guy? I don't mean it derogatorily. What I mean is: with a bit of help, you can look very attractive, posing as woman." "No one has ever accused me of being too cute, not to my face, at least, but I've been mistaken for a girl from behind, because of the way I walk. I have a small problem with my Achilles tendons. They're too short, so I need to put inserts into my shoes, or I'll walk on the balls of my feet instead of heel to toe, which is the normal way people walk." "It's normal for a guy, but women walk toe to heel when wearing high heels. It accounts for the ease with which you can walk in the high heels I bought for you, the kind which you claimed you've never worn a pair of before." "I can live with the way I walk. It doesn't bother me. What does my ability to pose as a woman have to do with the job offer? I don't have any desire to dress as a woman publicly. Wearing feminine underwear is an occasional hobby I got into accidentally when my last girlfriend gave me the brush off." "Nonetheless, wouldn't you like to be able to pass in public, - if you could? Think of the fun you'll have fooling people who sees you doing your job." "Oh, will you really want me to dress up as a woman while I'm doing this new job you're offering me? I didn't realize one was connected with the other. Why don't you just hire a woman instead of a man posing as one?" "Women are apt to be more emotional and often will panic when faced with a stressful confrontation. Men are in better control of their emotions and can deal with adversity better." "I wasn't aware of that. Is that a statistically proven fact, or a chauvinistic approach to claim masculine superiority? I'm not so sure if I'd be able to handle stress very well. I've never been in a situation that calls for bravado." "That's why a three-month training period is required for the job. During the training, you'll learn how to handle situations requiring emotional stability. After you complete the program you'll be carefully evaluated to assess your ability to maintain self-control. If you don't qualify for doing under-cover security work, you'll be redirected to a less stressful position or referred to a local employment agency to help you find employment elsewhere, and we'll pay the agency's fees. Either way, you'll gain the benefit of experiencing the training program's self-confidence building agenda." "Oh? What good is that? I'll still be out of work and without a diploma or a GED. I'll be right back where I started." "Well, I'm sure you'll benefit from the experience, one way or another." "You seem confident of it. I hope so. I admit that I'm in a "go nowhere", dead-end job and would like to find something, anything that shows some promise. Maybe if I'd have finished high school, I wouldn't be between a rock and a hard place. They say hindsight is always a hundred percent. What would the job pay to start? I'd like to make a little more than I do now. Going backward isn't going to work for me, because I can barely afford to survive on what I make now, about two dollars above minimum wage." "If you apply and are accepted, you'll earn about three more dollars per hour to start, but upon completion of the training, you'll make double what you're making now. Does that provide you with enough incentive to apply?" "How sure are you I'll be able to qualify for the position that will be open when I finish the training program?" "Seeing as how I'll be doing the placement, you'll be a shoe in. Look, this place of yours isn't near the gym where you will be spending a lot of your time during the next three months. "Looking around, I notice that you don't even have a washer or dryer. You'll be doing a lot of sweating and will need to do your laundry every few days. I'll be working out right alongside you, so I'll need to wash out my sweats, too. Maybe we two can work out a deal, if you're willing to do the laundry and housekeeping for the two of us. This place can't be worth more than four -five hundred a month. It would be worth it to me to have you around if you can come up with --- oh, say half of that for using my spare bedroom, and I have a washer and dryer at my place." "I didn't say I was going to apply, but as long as you added the incentive of putting me up at your place, maybe I will. My landlord is a lecherous bastard who spotted my stash of feminine undies. Every time he comes to collect the six hundred bucks a month he bleeds out of me, he smiles at me oddly and makes snide remarks about my sweet smelling soap or asks me if I want any help with 'thorough cleansing'. I have to bolt my doors at night. I'm afraid he's going to come in uninvited when I least expect it." "You'll have to trust me on this, I'm afraid. I give you my solemn word that I will respect your privacy. If you'll move over to my place, I guarantee you won't have to worry about being molested, by anyone, including me, unless you want me to molest you, in which case I'll be happy to oblige." He said it as a joke, and I took it as such, laughing along with him He then assured me that his word was his bond, an iron- clad guarantee that I would be safe as his co-tenant, and offered me his hand to shake on it, as a gesture of sincerity. I took his hand and we shook hands. I sensed that he wanted to hold onto it longer, so I pulled my hand away from his, but not too quickly, so as not to be offensive. He was a nice enough guy. I felt I could trust him to not try anything funny, if I moved in with him, but I really didn't know the man, so I was still a bit cautious. He couldn't be any worse to put up with than my current landlord, so I decided to trust him and apply for the offered job. "Well, where do I apply?" "At my office in the mall, in the morning; I already have the application on my desk filled in except for a few missing details. It won't take you more than a few minutes to complete the forms." He smiled coyly, as if he knew I would want to apply and he was making it as easy as possible for me to get involved. 3. After I filled in the empty blanks on the application, Mr. Stone escorted me to a local clinic for my physical. He left me with a woman I thought was the doctor's P.A. I learned from her that she was the doctor. "I was expecting to be examined by a male doctor, ma'am." "Were you now? That's interesting, seeing as how you are being assessed for your reasonability to pose as a woman, undercover. I see that you are a neophyte crossdresser. Have you been doing it for long?" While she talked to me she continued to examine me physically. I tried to look at the paperwork she was reading from. "It says that there on your chart? I didn't know you'd be let in on my little pastime. No, I haven't done it very long, I don't do it often, and in fact, I hardly do it at all, except when I go for evening walks in the mall, and then it's always covered up. Is there some valid reason for your having been informed about something that I felt sure was going to be kept a well-guarded secret?" "Well, I must say! If you don't want my professional assistance to improve your ability to pass as a woman, you should say so now, because I doubt if you'll qualify for the potential position you have been offered without it." "How can you help me?" "I can provide you with counselling, hormones and with referrals to other medical professional who can modify your appearance to be more feminine. I strongly recommend you not try to self-administer any feminizing agents that are available on the open market as 'higher quality'. Most of them are useless and are of no real value. Some of them may contain ingredients that aren't safe or may be counter-productive. On the other hand, if you grant me the authority to assist you, I'll monitor your progress diligently and regulate your therapy to yield optimum results." "I'm to attend a rigorous physical training program in the next three months. Does what you're suggesting here coincide with that part of the program?" "The two aspects will be highly coordinated. Your vitals will be monitored at all times during the next three months, and the appropriate adjustments to your diet and exercise regimes will be recommended to optimize progress." "Hmm, that's sort of what Mr. Stone had told me. I'm not sure if I --- " "Mr. Stone may have written out the directive, but I'm the one who sees that it is followed to the letter. Now, do you wish to continue, or do you still have some reservations? I have other patients I must see to this morning." She was being blunt, "No, I mean, yes, I wish to continue, and I don't have any reservations about what you said. I guess you professionals can't go about training someone with half measures. Where do we begin?" "We'll begin by completing your physical. If you pass, you'll receive your first hormone shots. Don't expect any overnight miracles. Nature takes it's time. You won't see any remarkable changes to your outward appearance for some time. Gradually, some of your adipose fat deposits will redistribute to new areas within your body, and you'll attain a slight change in your center of gravity, but that may take months. In the meantime, follow the exercise routine as it is prescribed and don't overdo what is assigned. It's important to progress at a moderate pace and not rush things along. I will determine if the three-month program will be sufficient, or if it will need to be extended, depending on how your body responds." "Extended? For how long, might it be extended?" "It's hard to say, at this point. Say, do you want to look more feminine, or would you prefer to look like a freak. I could send you for implants right now, but you'll regret it as soon as you find out what saline implants feel and look like. Let nature follow its course and let the hormones assimilate into you naturally. You'll be glad you chose the slower but surer route." "Me? Get implants? Me? Get saline implants? Hey, I didn't sign up for any of that! I thought the questions on the application referred to skin softening and laser hair removal treatments, not breast implants." "The application you signed specifies hormonal modification, if applicable. In your case, it's the safer, slower means to achieve fine feminine attributes needed per the job specification. If saline augmentation is warranted, after a reasonable duration of hormone treatments, we'll resort to that. Hopefully, you will develop a sufficient bosom without introduction of foreign matter. You're an ideal candidate for the position for which you were chosen, so you should accept the offer with open arms. Your options are limited." "I suppose you're right. I've been stuck in a dead-end job for the past two years, now. It's time I make a move, no matter what it entails. Maybe it's easy for you to talk about having a bosom, but it's still so foreign to me. You were born with the prospect of becoming a woman someday. I wasn't." "Allow me to let you in on a little secret. I was born a boy, just like you and I chose to live as a woman over ten years ago. I transitioned during my late teens and while I attended pre-med school, and I don't regret it for a minute. As a male, I was a total waste, useless. I couldn't compete with my peers. As a woman, I feel totally fulfilled, both as a professional and as a wife." "You choose to live with another man now, as his wife?" "I can hardly say 'another' man. I'm a woman, can't you see that?" "Apparently, yes, but you said that you were born a boy, like me." "My darling husband is fully aware of my male heritage, and he recognizes the insignificant differences in my body. Can I speak frankly to you?" "I suppose. It depends." "You're much like I used to be when I was your age, insecure, filled with self-doubt, lacking confidence and plagued with a body that didn't match up to the other guys'. I was the last one to be picked for any team sport and was lousy at playing them all. Girls thought I was puny, and they were right. As much as I wanted to be a normal male, and find a girl to love as introverted as I was, it wasn't meant to be. "Luckily, a man found me. He thought I was cute. He was then and still is an accomplished professional, and he was willing to send me to medical school so I could become a doctor, too. At that time, two adult men living together was considered disgraceful by the mainstay of society, so I decided to try to pose as a woman full-time to ease his burden and mine, socially. Trust me, it wasn't easy! However, I was a pre-med student at that time, so I learned enough about hormones and the effects on the human body to venture forth, with the assistance of one of my college mentors who wasn't homophobic." "But, you admit to being gay, whereas, I'm ---" "I'm still not admitting to any such thing. I merely have minor deficiencies in anatomy, for which I make compensations. My husband recognizes my deficiencies and he is willing to accept them. We don't expect to have any children, and if we ever change our minds, we'll adopt." "Then, you still have your male genitalia?" "Now, you are getting too personal. Bob, or Bobbi, I'm going to give you a reading assignment. You can find a lot of material on the subject out on the Web. The first term I want you to study is: chemical castration. The second term is: orgasm. The third term is: sex and the last one is: gender. You will soon learn that sex, and orgasms aren't predicated by gender roles nor are they exclusive to male to female copulation. Furthermore, males ingesting feminine hormones gradually become less virile than other males, and they eventually become sterile. That doesn't mean these men don't enjoy sex any more or any less. It means they can no longer procreate. There's a significant difference." "But, I don't have any desire to live as a woman full-time, ma'am. With me, crossdressing is merely a hobby. I like the feel of softer fabrics on my torso and silky nylons on my legs. Otherwise, sexually speaking, I'm strictly a heterosexual male, and I'm not interested in changing my mind about it!" "So was I, about ten years ago. Don't be too sure. Do yourself a favor. Study the reading matter that I've suggested. No one is asking you to change your sexual preferences. Just keep an open mind about how others may feel about the differences between men and women. Some people view sexuality based on attitude, and not just the physical attributes. "In other words, accept or reject the overtures made by others based on how you feel toward them inside, rather than strictly on gender. Gender lines can be vague and indistinct under certain circumstances. Liking people for their basic values and interests is far more important than to refer to them by their sexual preferences, so try to keep an open mind. Like or dislike others you meet for who they are inside; the kind of people you wish to associate with, rather than to classify others into strict social categories like straight, gay, lesbian or otherwise. People are people! Try to get along with everyone, even if you don't ascribe to their way of thinking regarding sex." "Okay. I'll take your advice and try to not be too judgmental. " "That's the ticket, Bobbi. Now, if you bend over the table to show me your best side, I'll administer your first weekly estrogen injections, which should help you to relax and better accept the advice I offered you. One of the nicer side effects of effective estrogen therapy is that you will feel more in touch with an inner calm, coping with emotional mood swings much better. "Women are far more emotional than men. You'll see. Sometimes, we just need a good cry, so if it ever happens to you, don't be too alarmed. It's only a side effect of the meds, and not you, per se. Nothing is basically wrong with having a good cry now and then. Is there? Most men make too much of women's need to willingly show their emotions. "Oh, there's one other important thing I should mention. You may get a bit of an upset stomach from the injections I just gave you. It's a very common reaction. Your endocrine system isn't used to being flooded with estrogen. It'll pass in a day or two, so don't call me unless you are in dire straits. I'll see you in three days, anyway, and will evaluate how you are coping then." "What about my new exercise program? Do I start now? Do you have a set of exercises for me to do every day? Did I pass the physical? Where do I go from here? I have other questions, but I can't think of them right now." "You passed the physical with flying colors, dear. If you didn't, I wouldn't have administered the estrogen injections. Now, whether or not you'll pass as a woman in public is up to you. In the next three months you will have the opportunity to apply yourself to the regimen you'll be provided. How well you apply your efforts will determine how well you will do as a woman, not what the estrogen shots I gave you, and will continue to give you every week from now until you blossom out of your male cocoon. If you don't want to succeed at dramatically changing your lifestyle, you'll remain in a limbo of your own choosing. Modern chemistry can do wonders, but it can't perform miracles. You'll have to work hard at accomplishing femininity sweetheart, or you'll end up looking like a guy in drag. Got it? There's more to being a woman than putting on a pair of panties. You'll have to learn deportment, nail and hair care, makeup, feminine conjectures, idioms, and much, much more. Three months isn't near enough time to absorb everything you'll need to learn, so don't set your hopes up so high that you'll become disillusioned. I doubt if you'll be effective enough to work as a woman in three months. It may take you a few months more, maybe longer. " "Wow, I'm beginning to wonder if I made my decision too hastily. Tom, uh Mr. Stone made the offer sound so enticing to me, Now, I'm not so sure it was a wise decision on my part. I merely wanted a chance to be able to delve into my favorite pastime more often, not live as a woman, full-time." "Your friend, Tom Stone is a natural born charmer, isn't he?" "Yeah, I let Tom Stone talk me into applying for this new job based on his interpretation of how often I'd be able to play at dressing-up, as if I could whenever I'd like, as if he'd help me succeed at looking more authentically female. I should have known looking authentic as a female would require my looking less authentic as a male any longer, as well. If I sprout a modest pair of mammeries from those shots you just gave me, I surely won't be able to prance around bare chested at the beach, that much I know, now." "It's funny that you said prance around instead of stomp. Men are more apt to stomp around in the sand barefooted, whereas women prance around. You possess an inherent insight into what lies ahead for you, Bobbi, whether you are aware of it or not. Just think! You won't have to fret over being thin and frail anymore! No one else will think of you as being puny; not fulfilling a silly preconceived notion of what is considered: 'normal'! You can be you, without fear of repercussions and thumb your nose up at those who judged you unfavorably in the past." I thought for a moment. --- "I guess I won't have to look over my shoulder to see if someone spotted my panties under my pants. If they do see them, I'll slap them in the face for being so rude." We laughed together about how women are more cautious about grooming and appearance than men are. Men would walk around boldly in underwear if they could. "As for your training regimen, that's not my department. Mr. Stone should stop in shortly to collect and take you to the gym for your initial exercise session. He has a list of calisthenics he wants you to try. If you suspect his choices are too severe, please let me know, and I'll put in my two cents on your behalf. I'm inclined to think he'll push you beyond your limits, just to frustrate you. Most men can be like that, you know. They're testy. They try to prove they are better than you, but they really don't know beans." I didn't know very much about what men were generally supposed to behave like, but she assumed I should know, so I let it pass. 4. Tom Stone arrived, saving me from saying something I shouldn't to her. "Here's your physical training director, right on time. Don't let him push you too far beyond your ability. Remember. He's a man, so he's bound to want to show you how strong and capable he is. Men always want to prove some mystical point to women about muscular stamina. Not many men can outlast a woman in bed." She smiled when she said it, as if she was sure of herself. If she still retained her male appendage, I wonder how she gauged her own stamina. I wanted to tell her I was still one of those men she was talking about, but she would only have told me time was on her side, and the hormones she was prescribing for me would change all that in time to come. "Well, did you pass muster with the good doctor, Bobbi?" "I guess so. She approved my application for the job, leastwise. I don't know how vigorously I can exercise today, Tom. She gave me two hormone shots, one in each hip. I was okay until a few minutes ago. Now, I feel like my butt is throbbing to beat the band. She said I might get an upset stomach, but she didn't warn me about the pain in my butt I'm feeling." "Oh, in that case, we'll just take a walk around the gym on the walking path up on the second floor and talk. We'll take as many breaks as you'd like, if you feel you are becoming tired. I don't want you to overexert yourself and collapse on me the first day." "Oh, what day were you planning on me collapsing?" I asked with a smirk. We took to the stairs to get to the second floor walkway. "If that's how you feel about my training you, I can always run circles around you and still put in a few laps for good measure. Feel like doing a quarter mile sprint?" "Sure! Bet you can't outrun me!" "You're on! Two laps around the perimeter is a quarter mile. Ready?" We started out at the same time, but he soon pulled out ahead of me and left me in his dust. I had no idea how bad a shape my lungs were in. He did four laps before I could finish three, and he wasn't winded, whereas my heart was pounding inside of my chest, and my head was throbbing to beat the band. It took all my resolve to not pass out from oxygen deprivation. Tom led me to a private room to recover. "Hey, you did okay for a mall walker. You're not used to doing fast laps in a real gym. No matter, we'll have you jogging twenty laps a day around the gym before you know it." "Tom, I'm so sorry. I could swear I was in better shape. I had no idea how much I've let myself go. I actually got a little dizzy. I wonder why." He replied: "Don't worry about it! You know that I was showing off. Don't you? I'm sorry for pushing you so hard. Let me make it up to you for being such a lout. How about if we take a quick shower and then I can show you a nifty shop in Evergreen Park where the store's proprietor caters to guys like you who enjoy wearing women's lingerie: Sally Ann's Corset Shop." "How is it you know so much about stores that cater to crossdressers, Tom?" "I make it my business to know. I've never been there, but I'm dying to find out what the store is like." "Okay, I'll go along for the ride, just to see, but don't be surprised if I don't buy anything. My budget is lacking at the moment." "In that case, let me buy you something really nice. I'd like to see you wear a real corset, a full-body corset with stays and a padded bust, one that tucks in the tummy and pushes the flesh up and down to give you femmy curves. " "Of course, you expect me to wear something provocative so you can get your jollies! Well-made stuff costs a fortune, Tom, hundreds. It isn't even made in the states, anymore. It's all imported from England or France." "Looks like you've been doing some window shopping on the net yourself, from the way you describe the merchandise you want." "I didn't say that I wanted one. I said it was too expensive for me to afford and it is too expensive for me to accept as a gift." When we arrived at the corset shop, the proprietress quickly escorted the two of us behind a simple cloth curtain into one of three changing rooms in the back of her shop, as there were two other customers in the showroom at the time, I would have liked to spend more time viewing the showroom and its countless items on display in glass cases and on racks around the perimeter. Large printed pictures of different styles of girdles and waist cinchers lined the back wall of the cubicle where we were patiently waiting. One side wall displayed enlarged pictures of various elegant bras in various colors. From inside the small changing booth, Tom and I could hear as the proprietress spoke to the other customer which she was attending to at the time, just on the outside of our cubicle. We smiled as we quietly listened to her enumerate the features of the other woman's prospective purchase. Her slight accent suggested she was born overseas, but had been in America for many years. As we waited, we heard the voices recede and then the familiar ringing sound of an old fashioned cash register. She had rung up a sale and we could hear her voicing her thanks to the customer for the woman's purchase. Moments later, she opened up the curtain to our cubicle and in a clear voice asked us what we were seeking, as she put a cloth measuring tape around my chest, waist and hips. She automatically knew which of the two of us was to be fitted. "You can try on any item you see displayed. I have most of them in your size, sweetie, but once you will leave the store, they are not returnable, so try to be sure what you purchase fits you well. Most reinforced ones can easily trim two inches from your waistline. We don't recommend more than that, as it will gradually stress the fabric out and you don't want that." She spoke as if she was an authority on the subject, and I supposed she was. "I haven't seen you in my shop before. Are you new to doing this?" "Yes, I am." I whispered. "You can speak up, if you'd like. You two are the only customers in the store at the present time. I have a few items I'd like you to try on. You can remove your pants if you'd like, but please, not your undergarments." She disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. Moments later, she reappeared bearing a number of boxes, each one of which we presumed contained a foundation garment. She closed the cloth curtain again, and left us alone. Through the closed curtain, she called out to us. "Take your time, but let me know if you need any assistance. I'll be in the front of the store, so call out or send out your new boyfriend to get me." We looked at one another. I blushed, smiled and Tom smiled back, with a pout. "I guess this means you're my 'new boyfriend' now," I said, meaning it as a joke. "I prefer to be referred to as your gentleman friend, if you don't mind. I'll always try to be a gentleman with you, and treat you like a proper lady, but trust me. It won't always be easy." "I'll remind you. Count on it!" All of the corsets she left with us were open bottomed, so I was able to put them on over my panties, and engage tiny hooks, usually along the left side to secure the garments to my torso. They weren't outrageously expensive, but they weren't cheaply made, nor were they inexpensive, either. I had to make a choice from the lot, because I didn't want my 'boyfriend' to think I was going to take advantage of his generosity. I held one of them up for him to evaluate. "I think this one is nice. What do you think, Mr. Stone?" "Call me: 'Tom', not 'Mr. Stone', from now on whenever we're alone like this, Bobbi. After all, I'm seeing you almost naked. Don't you think we can drop the formality? I think your selection is nice, but I'd like to see you in every one of them, with nylons attached to the garter straps and with your high heeled shoes. "You need to pick out a bra to go with whichever one you choose. You pick the corset you like, and I'll pick out another. Then, let's have her show us some long-line bras that will go well with either one. Either that; or we can have her show us some of the full-body corsets that include a built-in bra. " "I don't have need for a bra. Mr. --- oops! --- I mean: Tom." "Maybe you don't, but with a contoured bra, you will look more authentic. Maybe, in due time, you may want to fill out a bra, properly. Has the doctor discussed the possibility with you yet?" "She not only discussed it with me, she also gave me my first two estrogen shots. She told me the estrogen will soften my skin, lessen my beard growth and may modify my skeletal structure slightly to make me look more like a woman, all of which would be required for my new job. She also said she could stop the estrogen shots before they do any permanent damage to my ability to perform sexually, so I wasn't too worried about it. I haven't had much demand for my sexual prowess of late, so it's of little consequence. Don't tell me you weren't aware of her intent to feminize my body." "No, I won't lie to you about that. I purposely sent you to a gender sensitive endocrine doctor because I want you to have an opportunity to delve as far into impersonating a female as you'd like, without encountering prejudice." "Dou you really want to provide me with an opportunity to delve into it as far as I'd like, or as far as you'd like me to delve into it? I have a hunch the latter is more accurate. What exactly do you expect of me, Tom? From what you've told me so far, I gather that you are gay, but you have kept your word and you have not accosted me in any way, so far, so I wonder what you will expect of me. "You know that I like to dress up in delicate feminine underwear, but that's as far as it goes with me. I just like the sensuous feel of silk and soft nylon against my body. What I'm hoping for is to someday find me a woman who will tolerate my highly irregular self-indulgence" "You needn't worry about that. My personal sexual preference isn't very important, as I'll never accost you sexually or put you into a compromising position. If you prefer, you may treat me as if I'm your personal bodyguard. I'm an expert in martial arts, especially in defensive tactics and strategies, so I'll protect you from predators at all times. "What I'm expecting of you remains somewhat questionable at present. I'm hoping your fondness for dressing up will intensify, now that you are taking feminizing hormones. If you're wondering about how much money that I'm willing to spend on your wardrobe, put your mind at ease. The price of these few items we're getting today is a mere pittance. Women's fashions can get to be expensive, especially the evening wear. I'd like to be able to take you out on the town dressed in a lovely evening gown, wining and dining you at the finest restaurants someday. To be able to will take considerable work on your part, and plenty of patience on mine. "Of course, I'll try to be a perfect gentleman for you, Bobbi, and not spoil our relationship in any way by being overzealous. You'll please me greatly, though, if you were more receptive to the idea of our companionship." "Why? Do you want me to become 'chummy' with you, Tom? Because, if you do, I can tell you right now, it isn't going to happen. I have no desire to become your 'girlfriend' or anyone else's." I said it to his face, because if we were going to continue this charade, I didn't want him to be disappointed if down the line I decided to stop and forget about all the advantages the new job provides. Sacrificing my self- respect isn't worth any amount of money. "I would just appreciate it if you wouldn't pull away from me when we are in the presence of others, like you just did in front of the proprietress of this shop. It won't hurt you in any way to let her think we're a couple." The way he said it, almost an admission, made him to turn red as a beet. He must have realized he just voiced his eventual inner desire. "Oops! I didn't mean that, per se, Bobbi. What I meant was that you could be more receptive to 'acting' as if we are a real couple. I don't really expect us ever to become a couple. I honestly respect your set of values. " He looked so innocent at that moment, I couldn't turn him down. "Oh, okay, as long as you remember that it's just an act. I suppose I should begin to act more like a lady when others are around, but don't expect me to kiss you on the lips, or anything so utterly gay. I'd only screw it up. I'm willing to meet you half-way, though. How about if we hug a little, or I'll give you a peck on the cheek, to show others that I appreciate your generosity, for example?" "That would be more than appreciated. I don't want people to think I'd let you take advantage of me. I know; it's a macho thing. I'm the kind of man who has to save face. Call it macho vanity, if you'd like." When the woman returned to the cubicle to ask if we made any selections, I took Tom's arm into my hands, put my head against his shoulder, and told her that we did, and showed her which items we were taking. "They're excellent choices! May I show you some panties to go with these fine garments? They're up in the front of the store on display in one of the showcases. We have an excellent selection of intimate wear." She began by showing us a pair of crotchless panties, as if it was a normal item of attire for adult bedroom activity. Of course, I blushed and clung onto Tom's arm tightly as he asked her the price. Surprisingly, they weren't very expensive. "We'll take three pair; one in black, one pair in red and the other in pink if you have them in Bobbi's size." "This version has an open seam only in front. We have a similar version with the open seam extending all the way to the back." I pulled on Tom's arm, to let him know I didn't want him to buy either version. "We'll just take the three in this model today." I was mortified, and blushed profusely. I pulled on Tom's arm more to no avail. "They don't look very substantial, Tom." I said. "I don't care. They'll look plenty sexy." She hurriedly took out three pair from a shelf full of flat boxes behind her and placed them into a plastic bag with the logo of the store on it. "Now, we have some lovely black panties for day wear on sale, today. Three pair for the price of two." She took a pair off of a rack on top of the glass showcase and laid them on top of the showcase for our approval, or I should say: Tom's approval. "Notice the high rise on the sides, which allows an excellent exposure of the upper thigh, intended for wear along with sheer thigh high stockings." "We'll take three in black and three whatever colors you have." "Oh, Tom, please don't overdo it!" I exclaimed. "Oh, come on, sweetie, let me have some fun!" He replied. "You never want me to spend any money on you, and you know it pleases me." I knew whatever I'd say in response to that wouldn't matter, so I didn't say anything. The women took the cue and took me by the arm. "I want to show you a lovely dress in your size, I'll be willing to discount deeply if you'll let your beau buy it for you today. Step this way, and we'll see if it'll fit you." The pale blue taffeta dress with hundreds of sequins was a lovely sight, I had to admit. She rushed me into the back room again and told me: "An identical dress to this sells at a fashionable retailer for over three hundred dollars, but I'm willing to let it go for eighty, since I know you'll be back for more." "I'm sorry, but I can't afford it right now. I'm between jobs." It was true, in a way. I was between jobs. "Oh, don't be silly. Your boyfriend will gladly buy it for you. Let me handle him. All we two 'girls' need to do is make sure it'll fit you well." She put me in the cubicle and left me there. When she reappeared she held a full-bodied corset in her hands and quickly spun me around. Before I could protest, she fastened the front clips laced me into it from behind. Then, she carefully lowered the dress over my head and zipped it up in back. She then opened the cubicle's curtain, so I could see my entire reflection in a full-length mirror on the opposite side of the storeroom. Tom was standing off to one side. "I'll take it!" "Does she have a wig? She'll need a wig if you intend to take her out in a dress as lovely as this. I have several in stock." "Wrap up the dress and the corset under it. We'll take them both. We have a few errands to attend to today, and must get going, or I'd be glad to have you show us the wigs. Maybe, we'll be back another time, soon, perhaps." She knew enough to not push the matter any further and helped me out of the dress. Then she gladly rang up the order. The total came to well over five hundred dollars, and I was going to protest, but I was cut short. "We have meet with your landlord today about your lease, remember? I'd love to spend the entire afternoon here with this pleasant woman. She's been very helpful today, Bobbi. Don't you agree? Why don't you thank her?" "Yes, you've been very helpful, ma'am. Thank you. Thank you very much." "Why don't you go out to my car and turn it on, so the air conditioning cools it down before we both get in. I'll pay for our purchases in the meantime and place them in the trunk. We'll be late for our appointment with your landlord if we don't get going." Tom handed me his keys and told me to go. We didn't have an appointment with my landlord, as far as I knew. He made it clear that he wanted a minute or two alone with the store's proprietress. I waited out in the car for him, with the engine warming up, as he requested. Sure enough, when he finished putting all the bags in the trunk of the car and told me to scoot over to let him drive, he handed me a set of catalogs. "Take a look through these, why don't you. That woman had me so worked up; she could have sold me the Brooklyn Bridge." "You bought way too much. What made you get so carried away?" "That dress! I've had dreams about dating someone in a dress like that one. We're on our way to a wig salon south of here. With any luck you'll have a new wig you can wear with that dress. They also sell professional cosmetic sets for female impersonators, with instruction videos on proper application of makeup. You don't have to use it, if you don't want to; I just want you to have it on hand, just in case." "What was that business about my landlord and an appointment to see him?" "While we were in the Corset Shoppe, I remembered your telling me that the landlord had seen the contents of your closet. We can't take those purchases we made today to your apartment for him to gloat over and be tempted." "You're right. There's no telling what he'll do if he spots them there. I can't afford a storage locker on what I'm making. What do you suggest we do, as if I didn't know?" "We have to take them to my place. The offer I made you for you to move in with me, rent free, in exchange for helping me with laundry, cooking and the like still stands, unless you still don't feel like you can trust me. Until you feel comfortable with making that decision, you are welcome to come and visit, any time you'd like. Okay?" "How far from the gym in the mall do you live?" "It's right across the parking lot, less than a two minute walk away. Except in the wintertime, you won't even have to change into your workout outfit at the gym. You can change in the privacy of the apartment, and shower there, afterwards, as well. It has a great Grecian shower stall." "I suppose you'll expect me to take showers with you at the same time. Won't you?" "Hey, straight men shower together in communal showers all the time. It's a commonly accepted practice. I told you I'd respect your privacy, if it's such a burden on you to let me see you in the nude, we can always take turns, but I appreciate getting my back washed by someone else, if it's at all possible. Would you be willing to consider doing it? As a favor, I mean, without any other touching or fooling around. You wash my back, and I'll wash yours!" I didn't answer. I knew one thing would eventually lead to another. It always did. He already had me touching his beefy arm and talking to him softly like I was his girlfriend at the corset shoppe. I didn't mind doing it. It was kind of like, play acting, which I enjoyed doing. He took my hand into his at one point, and it almost felt natural to let him. What was happening to me? I remained silent as he drove, not paying attention to where we were headed. I closed my eyes and thought back to when it all began. The first time that I put on a pair of my past girlfriend's left-behind panties, I convinced myself that it was only because my male underwear was still in the wash, and her panties looked inviting and were also -- - available. I wore them for three consecutive days, until I was able to buy a few cheap pairs at a major chain store, the big one. You know the one I mean, I used the self-checkout station there when no one was looking. With that first purchase, I was on my way! After that successful venture, I got brave and went back for more panties, to be able to wear them all the time. Then, I bought a sexy teddy at an adult sex store. They could have cared less who it was for. Guys were there using credit cards to make their purchases. I didn't think it was wise. I used cash. I loved the way the tight teddy hugged my body and the crotch panel fit snug up against my groin. Attaching garters to nylons stockings made the thrill of wearing sleek and sexy underthings all the more exciting. Suddenly, Tom's braking of the car woke me up from my daydream. He was pulling into a shopping center parking lot I was unfamiliar with. He came to my side of the car to open the door for me. "We're here," was all he said. I got out of the car and let him lead me by the hand into a store. We went all the way to the rear and looked at row after row of wigs on imitation white foam heads. A short Oriental man came up to us. Tom pointed to one wig to ask for it by its number. He then asked for a second one, and then a third. The man stopped him, and said with a strong accent: "Only three, you buy a wig first; then you can see more. I get wigs. You go to back room and wait!" At the back room, we met Lee. She was going to assist us. Tom had me sit down in a barber's chair and stepped back. Lee took out a nylon skull cap and placed it over my hair. She then put the first wig Tom had selected onto my head and brushed it out. She asked me if I wanted bangs. Before I could respond, Tom said "yes" for me. She combed the front of the wig forward and cut the hair straight across. Then, she combed the sides over my ears. The entire process took her less than ten minutes. "Want the black one cut the same, honey?" She asked Tom. He told her he did. I just sat there like a dummy. It took her less than a minute to cut and style the second wig. The second wig looked just like the other, except it was black instead of platinum blonde. The third wig made me look completely different. It was full of waves and curls than surrounded my face making it look smaller, because the hair was so big in comparison. I loved it! I felt a twitch in my crotch! "It's lovely!" "That's because you looks lovely in it, honey." She commented. She looked at Tom, and Tom nodded. I could see his reflection in the mirror in front of me. He handed her a twenty dollar bill. She smiled and thanked him. "Now, do her face, so she knows what is possible. If you do it well enough, I'll hire you to give her lessons in doing her own makeup." She spun the chair I was in around, so I was facing Tom, and away from the mirrors now behind me. She checked my chin, first. "You shaved good dis morning, honey. Don't be using electric razors. They don't do as good a job. By dis time a day, you'd be showing a shadow. Hear me?" I nodded. "Don't move. I'm going to trim your brows a little." She started to pluck hairs from my eyebrows, which hurt like hell. "Be still now, baby. It won't do you any good to be squirming around. I'm going to make you look hot, so your boyfriend will 'cum' in his shorts at the sight of you. Once I'm done, you'll be thankful, honey. I promise." I let her rapidly yank out several more hairs, though, I don't know why. The pain was intense. When she said she was done, I sighed deeply in relief. She then told me to stay absolutely still. I felt her apply something to one of my eyelids for a second, then hold a brush up against it. She did the same to the other eye. She was putting eyelashes on my eyes! Then, she brushed on a bit of powder over and under my eyes, explaining what she was doing, as she went along. Then she applied blush to my cheeks, and finally lipstick to my lips, outlining them with a thin, deep red liquid liner, first. She put the third wig back onto my head and spun the chair back around. "Whatcha think, girl?" I didn't recognize my own reflection. "Is that really me?" I asked. "You is a natural, girl. All I did was highlight what nature gave you. If you get a trachea shave, no one would know you are packing three- piece set." I knew what she was saying, and I squirmed in my seat, thinking about what was nestled in between my hairless thighs. It wasn't much, but it was all that I had and I wanted to keep it ---intact. "What you did is amazing, but I'm not sure it's how I should let people see me. Is it difficult to remove?" "Not at all, honey. I sell a lotion that takes it all off in a jiffy, so no one can tell you ever had any makeup on, if that's what you want. But, why don't you let it stay on for the rest of today, just to let people around you get used to the idea of you being such a cute little gal. You aren't hurting anybody by play acting a little. I'm sure your boyfriend agrees." Tom stepped up. "I agree. Leave it on. Leave the wig on, too. I'll take you straight home and park the car in the garage. We can take the elevator up to the apartment, so you won't be seeing anyone dressed up as a boy. People won't think anything of a girl dressing in men's clothes these days, but you do need something to fill out that T-shirt you're wearing." Lee proclaimed: "I have just the things you will need, sweetie. Jose? Bring out a twenty-seven long-line in size thirty-four and thirty-six prosthetics, the good ones that have the proper heft to them, not the cheap ones!" She fitted the genuine looking prosthetics into the cups of the bra and then fitted the bra onto my chest, then covered it with my T-shirt. Damned if my chest didn't look like a well-endowed girl's! I hurriedly took the wig and T-shirt off to put the bra straps on my shoulders where they belonged. The result of doing that made my protrusions stick out a little further, with a pronounced, deep cleft between two authentic looking globes where they showed above the demi cups of the bra., I put the T-shirt back on and let Lee put the wig back onto my head so it sat correctly. Amazing! I was giving myself a hard-on without half trying, just by peering at my hot looking reflection. Without a bit of effort, Lee had made my face over into that of a lovely looking young girl, and the long-line bra made my upper torso look exactly like a real girl's. With the thin off-white T-shirt on, the stark black bra showed through it in vivid contrast. I could plainly see a deep cleft from the two mounds on my upper chest. I could even see a slight heaving and falling of my bosom with each deep, excited breath I took. Tom came up behind me. "Are you surprised?" He asked. "A little," I replied. "Pleasantly, I might add. It's uncanny." "Are you pleased with how you look made up as a pretty girl? I knew it the moment I spotted you walking in the mall. You have a natural penchant for looking good as a woman. This is probably how you'll end up looking in a few months, maybe better, if you continue in the training program, and you won't need to use anywhere near as much makeup. " "Oh? Why not? I thought all women need to wear makeup." "Most women need to use makeup to look good, but some lucky women are pretty with or without it. If you continue to accept those estrogen shots from Dr. Larson, your skin surface will soften from a thin layer of adipose fat that will accumulate, and your facial hair will thin out a bit, so you won't have to shave as often. If you'd like, you can have your beard removed completely with laser treatments and electrolysis, and you may need to wear a bra all the time in a few months from now, because you won't need to fill the bra cups with synthetic prosthetics." "I recall the doctor telling me to not expect any miracles; that it would take a lot longer than the three months training period I signed up to complete. I'll stick with the program for the three months to see what happens. After that, who knows? She said it would probably take a lot longer for the estrogen to accomplish any dramatic physical changes in my appearance." "She means well, and she is right about the physical changes taking longer than a few short months, but look how authentic you can look with just a bit of professionally applied makeup and a quality hairpiece. I'd even venture to say that you could go out to dinner with me tonight wearing the blue dress that you picked out at the Corset Shoppe today, and get away with it." "I picked out? I thought you picked it out! Well Tom, I'm not interested in getting away with anything. I only dress up as a woman during the evenings for my own personal pleasure, and not to find out if someone else is able to detect my true, hidden gender." "I think you told me that you didn't have any outer wear yet. If you didn't, how can you now claim that you didn't dress up in the evening except for when you were all alone?" "I have a very vivid imagination. I'd gaze into the full-length mirror on my bedroom door and imagine how I would look dressed in a dress. It wasn't very effective, I'll admit." "True as it may be, did you ever consider the objective value other people's impressions regarding your dressing up ability would be?" "Of course I have. Right after we first met, I admitted to you that sometimes I wondered how someone else's objective opinions might affect my dressing up habits, meaning your objective opinions, Tom. Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this discussion. Would we? I agreed to let you see me dressed up, and cautioned you that we'd stop the moment you became aggressive." "I've been a perfect gentleman. Haven't I?" "Yes. That first evening when we met at my crummy apartment, I was sure you were going to get fresh with me. I was so sure of it, when I slipped and fell into your lap, I didn't get up immediately. I wanted you to get fresh with me to give me an excuse to kick you out. Instead, you fooled me by keeping your hands to yourself. I almost threw myself at you!" "Things might have gone very differently that first evening if you had been wearing makeup and that big, curly wig. It looks good on you, you know. You look good. Then again, I'm prejudiced, so sue me." He leaned over me, and I thought he might try to kiss me on the neck, so I stood up to avoid him. Instead, he assisted me out of the chair by placing his hands on my arms and lifting me as if I was as light as a feather. "We'd better get out of here, Tom. That short oriental guy is giving us funny looks." "He just wants us to pay up. He thinks we may be considering a bit of petty larceny. He watches his customers like a hawk, thinking everyone is a crook. Don't make any sudden moves or any remarks about his evil eye." "He does have an evil looking eye. Doesn't he? Oh, Tom, I'm glad you are here with me." I looked over my shoulder at him. "I'd feel very vulnerable here if you weren't." "Don't say anything more. Let me pay the bill with my credit card and we'll be out of here in a jiffy. I hope you don't mind going over to my place with that long-line bra on under your T-shirt." "What about this long wig and the makeup I'm wearing. Did you forget that I have them on?" "Oops! They both look so natural on you; I didn't give either one a thought. We'd better get you out of here and inside my car with its tinted windows. You'll feel a lot safer once I get you to my place. It has an elevator from the parking garage up to my place. With any luck no one will be riding with us in it up to my floor, the top floor." "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence! I certainly don't want to embarrass you by having one of your neighbors spot you in the elevator in the company of a crossdresser!" "I could care less what my neighbors think about me! I was only considering how you might feel if someone spots your worn-out gym shoes. You're still wearing them from this morning's exercise session. Damn it! I should have bought you a skirt and a pair of loafers at the mall when we were on our way out the gym this morning!" I laughed at him. "You know, Tom. You're starting to grow on me. I like the fact that you are more concerned about me than what your neighbors think." "Would you like me to stop at the mall to pick up a skirt and a new pair of flats for you? I will if you want. It won't take more than a few minutes. If you crouch down inside the car, no one will see you while you are waiting for me, and if they do, they'll just think you're a girl." Once we got to his sports car and got in I asked Tom. "Can we leave some shopping for tomorrow? I'm not waiting out in your car for you at the mall. What if a policeman sees me sitting in it and gets curious about me sitting inside of a closed car. How will I be able to explain my attire if he asks me for means of identification. " "Maybe you're right. I'll have to print up a set of I.D.'s for you as a woman. I can't be with you everywhere you go to explain why you dress as you do, not that it's anybody's business. I'm glad you thought of it. I have a camera up in the apartment for taking wallet size photographs for identification." "I won't need a set of I.D.'s as a woman because I don't intend to go out in public anywhere dressed like this. Get me to your place, now! Drive straight there and drive carefully, but don't spare the horses! Then again, drive slow and careful. If we get into an accident, I won't be able to explain why I am dressed as I am." "Relax, Bobbi. Don't blow a gasket on me. No one will be able to tell you aren't a woman if you'll just sit back and enjoy the ride 'home'. I know it must feel a bit daunting to you right now, because this is your first time out and all, but trust me. No one can tell you are not what you appear to be. You look perfectly natural to me, and I'm right here beside you." Sitting right beside me in his car, Tom put his hand over mine to assure me that I looked fine as a young woman. I instinctively pulled my hand away from under his, and then I realized I had nowhere to go. I relented and put my hand back on my knee to let him know it was okay for him to put his hand on top of mine. Instead, he transferred the car keys from his left hand to his right and fired up the engine, smiling. "Relax, it's only me." I nodded and tried to relax, but I jumped at every turn expecting someone to appear out of nowhere with an arrest warrant with my name on it. It took me a little while, but I got used to seeing the other cars go by us on the freeway, because Tom was being cautious, as I had asked. "Could you please keep up with traffic, Tom? I feel conspicuous sitting here in a fast sports car with you driving as slow as my grandma." "Sure thing, I'll drive as fast as you'd like me to drive." "Drive carefully, but keep up with the other cars around us." He laughed. "You sound just like my mother. Did you know that?" "Does your mother know you are in a habit of driving other men around the city dressed up as women? I'll bet she'd have a royal fit if she knew." "You're right. She would. She's an old fashioned gal. Then again, I think my mom would like you, once she got to know you. She thinks the world of me and believes I deserve a great looking gal." "You ought to be looking for a life partner to settle down with, Tom." Why didn't I say "a wife"? "Are you looking for a wife?" He asked, coyly. "I couldn't support a pet on the money I make, let alone a wife. Why do you think I resort to wearing women's underthings in my free time? I know it's not something a normal guy would do. I can get away with doing it because I'm not a big, husky guy like you, Tom. I'm not a wart on a toad compared to you. You told me you make good money at what you do, and can afford a trophy wife. You ought to be looking for one. You're about the ideal male marrying age." "Oh? What is the ideal male marrying age, in your book?" "Ask your mom. She probably knows." "Oh, she wants me to settle down with a wife and kids, if that's what you mean. I'm not in the market. How did we get on this subject anyway?" "Getting married, or your mother? Which subject are you referring to?" "I'm not interested in getting married, and leave my mother out of it! She has been after me to settle down. I'm working on it, if you must know!" He pulled the car into the garage level of the building across from the mall where we had worked out that morning. He got out of the car and opened the passenger's door for me. I could easily get used to being treated so politely. While Tom emptied the trunk of the car, I stood by and didn't offer to carry any of the packages. I figured he bought them, so he should carry them, even if they were meant for me to wear the contents. We made it to his apartment without incident, which was a relief to me, and he told me to follow him to my room. I didn't know he had already assumed that I'd move in with him. "Aren't you going to ask me if I want to share an apartment with you, Tom? I still have a place of my own where I can hang my hat." "I already asked you. When I suggested you can save six hundred a month in exchange for helping out with some chores, you didn't say no. If you'll take the things we bought today to your flat, your landlord will come snooping in your closet and spot them. Do you want to deal with that situation?" "NO!" "I didn't think so, so I'm putting you up in my spare bedroom, unless you still can't trust me to keep my hands off of you. Those were the terms you had stipulated. Were they not?" "I suppose, but I didn't expect to be moving so soon. If I'm going to move in with you now, I have to go retrieve my meager possessions from my place." "Are you referring to these meager possessions?" He opened up the closets. Everything I owned was in the closets, except for my ratty old car. "I moved your stuff over this morning while you were at the doctor's office. Once you signed the employment agreement, I wanted to save you the exorbitant rate of rent your landlord was charging you for that run-down cold water one room bedsit in a seedy neighborhood. You can put that money to better use for incidentals, like some toiletries. All I saw at your place was toilet paper and a few bars of soap. It wasn't much, so I left them all behind." "You had no right to make up my mind for me, Tom! Your invitation was tempting, but I hadn't decided to accept yet." "Say the word and I'll move it all back to your flat tomorrow!" "Don't you dare, you big lug! It's here now, so leave it be. I guess I'll have to learn how to deal with sharing an apartment. I never had to share space with someone else, except with my two brothers, when we were growing up. The three of us had to share the same bedroom." "Here, you'll have your own bedroom. You won't have to share. You won't even have to share a bathroom with me. You have one of your very own." He opened a door to an adjoining room. It was a full bath with a tub and a shower stall. "I must say: I'm impressed. I'm not used to such luxury. Does a maid come in every day to fix the bed?" "That's where you come in. You'll be the maid." "Will I have to make up your bed every day, too?" "That's the deal I suggested. You'll do the cleaning, cooking and all of the housekeeping in exchange for living here Scott free. What I'll expect of you shouldn't take more than an hour a day or so, except for the laundry. I have an automatic washer and dryer, so all you'll have to do is to load them, and then fold the clothes neatly after they're dry." "It sounds exciting, a thrill a minute!" "Don't be so rude, or I'll stipulate you dress as a maid as you attend to your household chores. I don't suppose you'd choose to wear a French maid's outfit around the place if I have friends over? I will expect you to dress as a woman all the time, during your training, until your dressing as a woman is second nature to you." "All of the time? What about when I'm asleep?" "Sheer, feminine nightgowns are all you'll need to wear to bed from now on. When you are out and about, you can dress however you please. Here, you'll dress as I suggest. If you go about your training haphazardly, you won't be successful. If you'll do as I suggest you'll be sure to succeed. It's as simple as that. I'm not too hard to please. Meet me half way, and I'll make it worth your while in a few months from now. Remember, the primary objective is for you to be able to act on your own as a woman undercover. " 5. He turned on his heel and left me to ponder my options. It sounded like a bigger bite to chew on than I had anticipated, but he was willing to pay all the bills and pay me a salary to boot. All I had to do was play dumb and go along with the program. He'd do the rest. I took off the wig, the makeup and washed my face thoroughly. It took three tries to get all of the makeup off. I'd have to check into the kind of toiletries women use to take the black liner off the eyes. Soap irritated mine. In the morning, Tom roused me from a restless sleep at seven and told me to dress in the outfit he laid out for me on the counter in my bathroom. I went into the bathroom to see what kind of clothes he had picked for me to wear, but was disappointed to see that it was just a pair of scanty panties and a set of baggy sweats. The only visible clothing that could be considered feminine was a pair of slip-on deck shoes. Oh, well. He didn't need to lay out clothes for me to wear. I would have chosen to wear something similar to the gym without his help, all except for the white deck shoes. I prefer to wear lace-up high-top gym shoes for working out. I heard Tom from inside of the kitchen and joined him there. Breakfast was waiting for me on the table. "This is what I want you to be serving me for breakfast usually during your training with me, Bobbi: toast, cereal, coffee with cream, and two eggs, over easy. "I normally avoid eating greasy meat in the morning, and I recommend you do the same, but I won't hold you to it. It's healthier. If you want to eat any fattening food, or skip any of the foods I like to eat, it's fine with me except that I want you to drink at least one glass of a blended vegetable cocktail I'll prepare each morning to aid the constitution. It's my own recipe with a whey supplement added to improve metabolism." "Everything looks nutritious and inviting, all except for the eggs. Somehow they don't appeal to me, today. I have a bit of a sour stomach." "My protein rich shakes will take care of your indigestion, Bobbi. They give me instant energy and a lot of get-up-and-go in the morning." I sat down to eat a hearty breakfast with him, but my stomach rebelled. "The doctor had warned me yesterday about having an upset stomach. She knew what she was talking about. Suddenly, I don't feel like eating much." "Try a bit of my protein shake. It'll settle your stomach." I did as he suggested, just so he'd back off, and he was right. The rich shake tasted delicious. I passed on having coffee, my normal morning elixir and drank down the entire twelve ounce glassful of green juices instead in a few long gulps. I tried to eat a slice of toast, but my upset stomach felt quite full for some reason. I shrugged it off, and told Tom I wasn't very hungry. I expected we would proceed to the gym at the mall. Instead, we went down one level inside the building, and paced on a treadmill in another gym set up there for use by the building's tenants, with a lap pool, a steam room and a whirlpool hot-tub. I didn't last an hour exercising, because I needed to use a bathroom in the worst way. I barely made it to the one at the gym before my stomach revolted, and I had a horrid case of the runs the tossed my cookies into a handy wastebasket at the same time. I returned to the gym to look for Tom. He was still on a treadmill, with a pair of earphones plugged into the system, as he watched the morning news on a set above his treadmill. He noticed that I was very green around the gills and immediately got off the treadmill to accompany me back up to his apartment where I went to my bathroom and spent the remainder of the day. He wanted to take me to see the doctor, but I begged off, telling him she suggested that I might suffer an upset stomach from the two shots she had given me. I wore a nightgown to bed for the second night in a row, that night, although I spent the majority of the night in the bathroom. The following morning, once my stomach stopped lurching, Tom took me to the doctor's office to make sure my indigestion was due to the shots, and not because of some allergy to the diet he intended me to follow. The doctor said it was a common side effect of estrogen therapy, and there was nothing to do but wait it out. She did give me some capsules to take to settle my stomach. The following day, I felt much better, so I got up out of bed and started our breakfast before Tom woke up. I wanted to fulfill my part of our bargain by cooking him his breakfast, though I was still leery about eating any food. He ate his breakfast and asked me to change out of my nightgown to exercise. I'd completely forgotten I was still wearing a nightgown. After I changed into my sweats, we went down one flight of stairs to the gym in the building and worked out, except, I just walked the treadmill while Tom followed a rigorous workout routine. He was built like a body builder. I had to admire the excellent condition his body was in. I wished I was able to look more like him. My body building efforts were still mostly unproductive, but I had high hopes with Tom acting as my trainer. After an hour or so, he said we did enough and that he didn't want to overtax my system. I hadn't done much exercising at all, not the way he worked out, but my stomach was still revolting and I felt a little tired, so I didn't push the issue. We went back up to his apartment, and I spent the next hour or so on the throne, again. After a week of steady indigestion, I finally conceded that something must be wrong with my digestive system. Instead of my gaining stamina, I was feeling weaker and weaker day by day. Tom took me to see the doctor. The doctor confirmed my morning sickness, brought on by the hormones she had administered the week before. From what she told me, I thought I wasn't going to be an ideal candidate for the training program after all. I must have misunderstood what she said, because she gave me two more shots in the rump and told me the cramps and indigestion the hormones were causing me shouldn't be quite as bad during this week, and I should try to work out with Tom, if I felt up to it. In the meantime, I lost about five pounds. She insisted what I had experienced was a normal reaction to the hormones. I asked her if she thought we ought to back off for a week or two. She said she expected me to encounter indigestion, and all of my symptoms suggested she could increase the dosage slightly, which she told me she did. Boy! Did she ever increase the dosage! I could feel the intense mood swings and had a few episodes of wanting to cry my heart out. Tom was a dear and held me in his arms whenever I went into one of my mood swings. For some reason, I welcomed his cuddling me. I felt far more secure with his massive arms around me. I'd completely forgotten about the 'no touch' rule we had. Gradually, I recovered and we resumed our daily exercise routine, except we took steam baths together and showered together afterwards in his elaborate Grecian spa next to his master bedroom. He always referred to his bedroom as the 'master' bedroom instead of the 'other' bedroom. I didn't grasp the full meaning of the inference for some time. It must have been a month into my training program when it dawned on me one day when I marveled how masterful he seemed to me in the way he conducted himself. By that time, we were doing the same exercises and I was slowly beginning to be able to keep up with him, which made me feel good about myself. The odd thing was that I was losing weight, while Tom seemed to be gaining muscle tone and a more chiseled physique. Mine was still skin and bone, but it was changing. Unfortunately, I was looking a bit softer and less defined in the major muscle groups. By then I'd had five sets of hormone shots and was concerned because I was still losing some weight. My weight loss continued for the balance of that month. I was hoping to gain some muscle tone, but it wasn't happening, no matter how much I exercised. Even Tom's protein shakes weren't helping any. He swore they helped him to gain muscle tone, but all they ever did for me was to flush out my system and keep me regular. I was beginning to lose all hope when the scale finally showed some progress near the end of the second month of my training. I went to the doctor that week to let her know I was finally showing some weight gain. She confirmed my suspicions and said she was pleased for me, even though my waistline was a little smaller. It seems the weight I gained was all down below my waistline. My hips were expanding! The difference in the size of my waist and my hips was noticeable when I looked into the mirror at her office with her. She claimed I was 'coming along nicely', and would let Tom know when he came to pick me up. "Why tell Tom? He's going to work me harder at the gym if you tell him." "He buys all of your clothes. Doesn't he? Your dimensions have adjusted in response to your hormonal intake and exercise regimen. I explained to you how the hormones work slowly, didn't I? We expected your skin to soften somewhat and your center of gravity to lower as your changes occur. Did you notice that your three-piece set has gotten somewhat smaller over the past few months?" "I noticed that, but it still responds to stimulation, so I wasn't too concerned about the size change. As long as it still functions, I don't mind. My panties and girdles don't show an unsightly bulge anymore I'm not sexually active with anyone, and if I was, I doubt if having children will become an issue." "Have you noticed any changes in your attitude toward men lately?" "Not that I can say, for sure. I'm not aware of any change. I do like to have Tom, my roommate and trainer, massage my back for me more than before, if that's what you mean." "That's what I mean." She said. "Anything else you want to mention?" "No, nothing that I feel warrants mentioning." "What do you mean by that?" she asked. "Well, after we work out together every morning, we usually take some steam. Tom wears a tight fitting Speedo to the sauna, and I notice that he must be massive. My male equipment is tiny by comparison, I noticed." "You noticed? You said you noticed twice. Were you trying to notice? If you are, does Tom know you are trying to notice his equipment?" "Heavens, no, that's the last thing I need. I don't want to tease him about his size! I only take a quick look when I know he won't notice me doing it." "If you are in any way interested in what you see, why not let Tom know about it. I'm sure he'll respond to you, if you approach the subject properly." "I can't do that! I said it a thousand times! I'm not gay." "You aren't entirely masculine anymore, either. Feminizing hormones have the ability to affect your way of thinking about sex as much as they are able to change outward appearances. Believe it or not, you are right on schedule. You'll begin to show more tangible results in a few more months, and you won't have to feel obligated to ascribe to one set of rules anymore. Expect to experience a significant increase in your craving for close companionship." "Are you suggesting I'll want to have relationships with Tom? If you are, I have to deny it. It's gay, and being gay is wrong, as far as I'm concerned." "Gays don't all sleep around like they used to, or as people believe they used to do. Gays are as monogamous as anyone else is these days. If you ever feel amorous toward another man, go for it. If he responds to you, enjoy life." "I don't see things in quite the same way as you do, doctor. I was brought up in an environment where men seek women and women seek men. You don't ascribe to the same principles that I grew up with. Obviously, you like your set of morals. It's okay with me, but don't ask me to change mine." "I'm only suggesting that you keep an open mind. Come here. Let me show you something." I went to her. She had me sit on the end of the examination table in the room, and remove my shirt. She felt around my nipples, and put her fingertips right on top of them. "Can you feel that?" "Yes, what is that?" "It's what you hoped for when you first started on hormones: the beginning of your mammary growth. In a few more months, you will need to wear a bra, unless you want the men who will see you to stare at the sight of your protruding nipples." "Is that what this is? I noticed them itch a little, but I didn't think it was due to any development. You said it might take as much as a year!" "Yes, you might take as much as a year to blossom fully, but you definitely will show signs your body is adjusting to your hormone level. I gradually stepped up your hormone dosage over the past two months, so as not to cause you any more grief and turmoil than is necessary. You've adapted well, and from what you have told me a minute or two ago, your mental attitude is complimenting the physical changes. If you'd like, I can speed up the process by introducing a testosterone inhibitor at this time." She continued to tweak my nipples gently while she talked to me, which felt heavenly. I let her continue until I felt a slow release of seminal fluid. She'd given me a minor orgasm from her continued ministrations, and I felt an odd afterglow radiate throughout my body. She noticed my shortness of breath and smiled at me. "See, becoming a girl in body as well as in mind has many benefits. You wanted to know what it is like to be a woman. You are beginning to learn. It will only get better. In a few months you'll show, and then you'll know what it is like to be admired for having a lush body. Along with your new attributes comes a serious set of responsibilities. You must appear chaste, unless you want men to treat you like a tramp. It's very difficult to defend a reputation like that, Bobbi. " "I'd sure like to know how it must feel inside to be a woman, but don't want men to lust after me. I only want to express myself freely in the other ways women can enjoy. I love the feel of delicate fabrics against my body. It's so sensuous. I just want to leave men out of the equation." "Do you think it would matter much if a man touched you as I did instead of me? It's much nicer when someone you admire touches you when you wear sexy women's lingerie. Trust me. I know, from both perspectives." "You just told me it's difficult to defend a loose moral reputation." "That's why you have to be careful who you choose to befriend. From what I know about him, your friend and mentor can be the most likely prospect. He is a very nice guy. Isn't he? I have a feeling he has a crush on you, too." "I don't think so. We've been living together as two men and he hasn't tried to ---! What must people think? If I made any overtures you are suggesting, we'd be shamed out of the neighborhood. I can't do that to him. He fears the derision gay men are subjected to. It could ruin his career." "There's a very simple solution to your problem. Let your hair grow out a bit longer and style it in a 'bob'. Wear makeup and women's clothes wherever you go. Let the neighbors see how attractive you can look as a woman. With any luck, Tom will take notice and treat you accordingly, with kid gloves." "I don't want to lead him on. He's been too nice to me. I'm going to work in security for him in a few months. I don't want to jeopardize our working relationship. I can think of a dozen other reasons to keep my distance." "Do you know what you are saying? You must realize that you are attracted to the man, Bobbi. Why don't you admit it? There's nothing unusual about a girl in transition having romantic feelings for an Alpha type male like Tom." "That's just it! I'm not really a girl in transition, doc.! Sometimes I wish I was, for his sake! I'm only posing as one for the job he has planned for me." "That minor issue can be surgically corrected, if need be. With any luck, it won't be necessary, from what I know about him. I think he is interested in you staying intact, as a male with the outward appearances of a female. In the event you don't work out in your new job, you can then revert back." "You may be right, but I'm not gay. You're not the first person to refer to Tom as my 'beau', doc. He took me to a wig shop right after I saw you for the first time. A woman there made me up to look like a proper young girl." "How did you feel about wearing makeup?" "I loved the way I looked in makeup with long curly wig, but the ride home was traumatic. I saw boogie men on every corner, and in every car that passed us by. I was a basket case by the time we got to his place!" "Did someone accost you for dressing as a woman?" "No, but what if someone did. I'd be mortified." "Do you have any snapshots of how you looked? I'm not criticizing you, but I'd like to see how you looked, just out of curiosity. I'd be pleased to learn if you looked lovely as a woman." "We talked about taking some, for an alternate I.D. for me, but we never did. Maybe we should have." "Maybe you should ask him to take some, now. It would give you a good excuse to dress femininely in his presence. Then, see how he reacts to you." "Oh, Tom sees me all the time dressed as a woman. It's a part of the deal we made at the very beginning, when I first moved in with him at his apartment. I wear a nightgown to bed at night and in the morning when I first get up to make breakfast for him every morning. I do the dishes from breakfast and the laundry in the afternoon usually dressed in feminine attire. "I was supposed to wear a maid's uniform during my daily chores in the afternoons, but stopped when I became ill at the start of my training. He claimed my dressing up as a woman should become second nature to me." "Tell him you'd like to expand your wardrobe to include some street clothes, the kind you'd wear to go shopping at local stores and meat markets." "Maybe you're right. I would like to do some of the grocery shopping. I've been following monthly women's magazines to learn as much about cooking as I can. He buys the wrong vegetables to go with the main dished I cook." 6. I did as she suggested. Tom seemed elated. "I'm glad to hear you're ready to advance to the most important phase of your training. Browse the Internet. Show me the kind of women's clothes you'd like and I'll pick them up at the mall if you agree to stop wearing men's clothes altogether. Lately, you've been acting moody, I've noticed, probably because you are cooped up in the apartment all the time, except for when we go downstairs to exercise. "I had the gym here in the building closed to other tenants under the guise of doing some remodeling, so we have it for our use exclusively. Some of the other tenants have bitched about it being closed. If I can reopen it for their use, having it repainted and adding a few new pieces of equipment, you'll get a chance to interact with other people living in the building, but only if you'll always be dressed as a woman while you exercise. It's a stipulation I must insist upon, so the other people living in the building won't figure out that I'm sharing my apartment with another guy. I happen to like you a lot, Bobbi, and I think we'll work well together after you complete your training. I don't want to upset the overall plan by being careless." I had to ask him. "You had the gym downstairs closed to others for our exclusive use? Oh, Tom, I didn't realize that. I just thought other tenants weren't using it at the times we used it because they were at work. How many people exercised in that gym at nine o'clock in the morning?" "Only a few used it, the ones who complained to me about it." "It had to cost you plenty to rent it out for our exclusive use." "It didn't cost me a thing. I own the building, Bobbi. I let the other tenants use the gym as a perk. I didn't charge them. I don't want them to know you are living with me until you can 'pass' well. Of course, once you'll look like a real woman, they won't have any reason to look down their noses at us." "You're sensitive about what other people think. Aren't you? I suppose I can take that as a compliment: that you don't want the neighbors to think poorly about me, as well as you. "Okay, I'll do as you are asking and only dress up women's clothes whenever I venture outside of our apartment from now on. I want to protect our reputations as much as you do." "If you'll do that for me, Bobbi, I'll buy you a set of rings you can wear so people will think we are a regular couple. It would help a lot if you wear one of the wigs from the wig shop you got the day you started your training. It wasn't necessary for you to wear those wigs around our apartment, but if you expect to be seen by others around the neighborhood, you ought to try your best to look nice as a woman. I mean: you look just fine as a guy, and all that, but as a woman, you still don't look very authentic. Remember how nice you looked the day I bought you those wigs? "Do I ever! How could I forget? That woman performed magic on my face!" "Would you mind if I hire that lady you met at the wig store to instruct you on how apply makeup? She had you looking terrific with that long-line bra on, and it didn't take her a long time to fix up your face perfectly. I bet she can teach you how to do it in no time." I didn't know why, but I felt a twitch down in my groin from the prospect of knowing how to apply makeup successfully. I had tried to do it on my own, before I moved into his apartment with him, but I failed miserably. He must know I didn't know beans about applying makeup because I didn't ever try to do it on my own since I moved in with him. I waited until very late on the night she put on my makeup, to wash off what she had applied because I was enamored with the results so much. "Do you think she'd agree to do it?" "In my opinion, most foreign store owners don't pay their help very well. The employees depend on tips from customers to survive. I'm sure she'll jump at a chance to come over on her day off to give you makeup lessons. She sure made you look great that day. I should have taken some photos of you. I intended to, but I was too nervous to keep my mind on track." He was admitting that the look excited him. "Was that a compliment, I just heard? That is so sweet of you, Tom!" Whatever made me tell him that? I don't know what possessed me at the time, but I went over to him, pulled him down to my level by the neck and was about to kiss him on his cheek when I realized I was dressed in male attire. I caught myself just in time and shook Tom by the neck, feigning a bit of horseplay. He slapped me on the butt in response, and his big hand on my soft butt gave me goosebumps. I don't know what came over me, but I welcomed his friendly butt slap as much as his compliment and I wished he'd have done it before and would do it more often. Was my brain softening as much as the surface of my skin? Later, Tom came to me while I was folding our laundered clothes to tell me he phoned the shop where the woman worked and she was on her way over. "That was quick! How did you manage it so soon?" "I made her an offer she couldn't refuse." He replied in a faked accent from the famous movie about Chicago gangsters. "She wanted to come right over, as if I might change my mind if she didn't. She is bringing someone with her who knows more about hiding moustaches. I hope you don't mind." The two women arrived about an hour later, after I had finished folding the laundry. I took the two of them to my bathroom, as I thought they'd start by unveiling an array of cosmetics on the sink's counter. Instead she asked me where my 'kit' was. She explained that she used new makeup on me the day she first met me and packed it up into a kit. I wasn't aware of that. Tom was listening from the sidelines. He went off to his room and showed up with the kit and two of the three wigs he'd bought that first day at the wig store. I went into my closet and brought out the long- line bra the woman had put onto me that first day, the one with realistic looking pads in the bra cups. "The light in here is good, but we'll need a chair with a reclining back." She said to Tom, ignoring me, as if I wasn't there. She knew who was paying for her services, so she addressed him instead of me. He told her the only chair around with a reclining back was in the gym, one floor down, and asked her to go with him to see if it would do. All three of them went to check it out and left me behind. They returned together with an exercise chair on a four-wheel cart and set it up in the bathroom close to the sink. Tom took the cart away while the two women sat me in the chair and let the back recede until I was looking up at them. "Today, we're going to start by removing the telltale peach fuzz from under your nose. Your face may sting a little afterwards for a few days, but with a few more treatments, you won't have to bother with shaving anymore." "Wait a minute! You're supposed to be teaching me how to apply makeup, not permanently remove my facial hair." "Your facial hair is so faint, you won't miss it. Your beard just makes your chin look a little darker than the rest of your face. Removing it will even out your skin tone and enhance your light complexion. If we don't remove it, you'll have to remove your makeup, shave your face and then replace your makeup every four to five hours or so. You might as well be rid of it right now, and not have to bother with it from on. Eventually, you'll tire of all that needless, tedious shaving and you'll beg us to get rid of it for you." The other woman stepped up and I heard a loud ticking sound from a wand in her hand. "You're lucky. A lot of men posing as women need a lot more work than you. They need their beards removed with electrolysis. Yours is light, so all you need is to have your follicles treated with intense laser light. It will sting a bit, but it's much less of a pain than needles stuck into the root of each and every hair." I could feel, smell and hear each hair on my face being eliminated by what she was doing, whether I liked it or not. Once she started, I let her continue, as I didn't want one part of my lower face to look different from the rest of it. She spent a lot longer than I expected she would, and she didn't talk to me while she worked, except to tell me to turn my head, every now and then. The other woman, the one I only knew as Lee, sat on my vanity's chair in front of me and removed my shoes and socks. She put one of my feet up into her lap. She then washed it with a damp facecloth, and trimmed my toenails. "I'm starting with your feet and will work my way up. When I'm done with you, you will be a fine looking lady from head to toe!" She put cotton wads between my toes after they had dried and applied a coat of bright red polish to the nails. She showed me the bottle of polish she was using, as I couldn't see what she was doing with my head tilted back for the other woman with the ticking wand in her hand. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. I can't recall how long they were working on me, because I'd dozed off. When I woke up my face felt as if it was on fire, as if I'd been out in the sun too long. The woman let me sit up, and I immediately turned to look in the mirror above the sink. My chin was red and irritated, but it was mostly superficial. She assured me it would clear up in a few days. I looked down at my hands and saw that all my fingernails were extended, shaped and colored to match my toenails. I smiled. The woman named Lee had done a nice job on them, and I thanked her for it. I then thanked the other woman. She nodded, packed up her tools and left us, not saying much to me about how to take care of my scorched chin and lower face. My chair faced away from the mirror, so I couldn't watch Lee as she applied what she called a 'concealer' to my itchy lower face. It felt soothing to me, so I was thankful for it. She said the other woman had another appointment. She never did tell me her name. She said she'd be back to check up on me in three days and to not scratch my chin, or it could get infected from whatever bacteria lived under my fingernails. That didn't sound like a very good idea. "The concealer hides your swollen pores and it smooths out your face, so it looks more appealing, honey. At the same time, it contains an anesthetic to ease the itching while your follicles heal from the laser treatment you got. If you mind what the woman said and can resist scratching your chin, it'll heal a lot faster. The minor inconvenience of a few days discomfort is well worth the end results. A lot of natural born women have to get laser treatments for unwanted hair, as they get older and they stop producing sufficient estrogen. You'd be surprised how many women need to have facial hair removed." She worked on the remainder of my face without comment. When she was done, she let me see what she accomplished. I was delighted with the look she achieved. I looked like a teenaged girl wearing a boy's haircut that was so popular back when I attended high school. She let me watch as she placed a nylon cap over my still too short hair and put the blond wig on over it. The change in my appearance was dramatic! I wanted to reach down and touch my tiny penis, but I didn't dare do it in her presence. Instead, I thanked her again and asked her when she could return to show me how to do it. She said she'd return as soon and as often as I wanted her to, as my 'rich boyfriend' was paying her well enough for it to be worth her while to take time off from her other job at the wig store. "I'd like you to teach me how to apply makeup this well, all by myself." "I know, honey. That's why I'm here. Does it matter to you if it takes me a while? Your 'boyfriend' made it very clear that I can take as long as I need. You won't want to deprive a sister of a good thing. Do you? "Let me take my time to show you how easy applying makeup is. You just have to be patient and not get overanxious honey." I got the impression Tom was paying her more than was necessary, so she'd want to be thorough and effective. I couldn't blame her for wanting it to be profitable. After she left for the day, with the reassurance she'd return the next day for my first real lesson in cosmetology, Tom walked in on me in my bathroom to assess what Lee had accomplished. "Wow, you look terrific! Lee did a great job on your makeup, don't you think?" I agreed and told him she would return the following morning to teach me how to do my makeup on my own. As I was sitting before him, he took my left hand and placed a diamond ring on the third finger. "If anyone asks, tell them we're engaged." I could have kissed him for being so gracious, but he backed away from me in time, saying he didn't want to smear my lipstick. Then, as I stood up to escort him from my bathroom, he took me into his burly arms and kissed me right on my lips before I could stop him. I was surprised that he'd make an impulsive move on me suddenly like that, but then again, I didn't tell him to stop what he was doing, either, because it felt wonderful to be held in his muscular arms and be finally treated by him like a real woman. I knew then that I was falling for him. Finally, I turned my head away. "Oh, Tom, we really shouldn't be kissing!" "I've waited long enough. You wanted me to kiss you. Didn't you?" "Oh, Tom, it's not right! I'm a guy, not a real woman. You know that!" "You know you are a woman at heart. Don't you? Does it matter to you if I like my woman to have a little extra, down here?" His hand reached down and he cupped my genitals, gently. I knew it was wrong to let him do it, but it felt so good, I didn't stop him. "You're the ideal woman for me, Bobbi; a ray of bright sunshine in my life. You knew it the day you moved here to live with me as a woman. I knew it the moment I first laid my eyes on you in the mall wearing your tight fitting pants, and a sheer corset underneath them. You want to be treated like a real woman back then, and you still do now. Well, I want to treat you just like a woman. Resist me if you want to, but the bottom line will remain the same. " "It's so sudden, Tom! I know you're right, but it's too soon for us to do anything real couples might want to do together. A part of me wants to give in to what you want from me, Tom, but another part of me tells me that two men shouldn't feel this way towards one another. I'm thoroughly confused and I don't want to be a big disappointment in that regard if I can help it." He suddenly appeared crestfallen. "I'm very sorry if I made my intentions known to you too soon, Bobbi. You are right, of course, about how two men should behave. I should have bided my time a little longer. You aren't quite ready to fully accept womanhood. In a few more months you won't be able to deny you are a woman at heart. The hormones you are getting will change the way you will look and how you will feel about me so you won't want to think about being a male physically, anymore. By then, what will be left of your male origins will probably be inconsequential." "What makes you think that, Tom? I'll still have my male genitals!" "The size of your male genitals, they feel almost non-existent, now. After a few more months on feminizing hormones, you'll probably have nothing much to show that you're a male. You may still be flat chested, but I'll bet your testicles have shriveled up to next to nothing. It's the price you pay to gain a lovely looking feminine figure and softer skin. "I'm as much to blame as you are for wanting to know what being feminine is like, Tom. I started dressing up before we even met. Can we just act like we're a normal couple outwardly as far as your neighbors are concerned for a while longer, and not do anything that is considered gay, please Tom?" "I'm a patient man, Bobbi. I won't ask you to do anything you don't want to do. Besides, we really don't have to do anything physical together, if it will upset you. I'm satisfied having you as my roomie, for right now. Let's leave things they are for now and see what happens. Surely, I hope you'll come around to my way of thinking, but if you don't, I'll just have to live with it." "I can't imagine being intimate with another man, not even with you. If what you claim about my manhood shrinking up until it isn't much of anything is true, maybe my attitude toward being with you will change, as well. If you are right about my attitude changing, I'll come knocking on your bedroom door, because there isn't another man in the world I would choose over you. You have been a perfect gentleman from day one of this adventure." I grabbed his head, pulled his face down to mine and I kissed him hard this time, to let him know that I wasn't afraid of showing some affection for him. What I didn't want was to have him think I was becoming gay. I wasn't. My being gay would mean he would expect me to perform as a male for him as much as he would perform as a male for me, like performing oral on each other, for example. Being reciprocal with a man isn't how I want things to go. The thought of two men being mutually active gives me the willies. I'm hoping he was right in saying my male body will evolve into a feminine one. I want my flat chest to blossom and become more sensitive, so my breasts being fondled by a man will excite me like the doctor's fingertips excited me that time in her office. Maybe with breasts, Tom will view me as being a real woman, and if he does, then I may want to consummate my feelings for him physically, but with him at the instigator. I might even consider responding receptively, but not if Tom felt that I was still another male. That would be much too gay to suit me! I talked over my feelings regarding the matter with my doctor each time that I went in to receive my estrogen shots. Each time, she listened carefully and assured me my penis and testicles were slowly shrinking. She repeated her claim every week until one week during her examination she concluded that I was sterile. Her conclusions didn't come as a shock to me. She said she could barely detect my tiny testicles inside of my scrotum. It felt nice to have her fondle my diminutive sexual organs, and I expected to enjoy having them fondled by a woman, even though her womanhood was the result of her sexual reassignment surgery. I still considered myself a male where it counted, but, at the same time it felt far nicer to me to have her massage my swollen nipples which were becoming more and more apparent each week. My breasts not only showed; they were hefty enough for me to need a bra, or make men drool, if I continued to wear thin, transparent tops. She seemed happy to oblige me and she brought me to an exquisite climax, but not the kind that I was used to having. This climax lasted much longer and it surged in wave after deep wave, without my spending any thick and creamy ejaculate. She claimed I was responding to her stimulation in a more womanly fashion: physical proof that I was coping well with my physical changes. I asked her how it was possible. She said some people, not many, adapt to gender modification better than others, but my feeling complacent wasn't anything I should feel guilty about. I didn't feel guilty! I was pleased as punch. It meant that I was able to be the receptive partner in a relationship with Tom, since my tiny testicles had shut down and they weren't producing any active sperm. I asked her to examine my clear ejaculate, which she did. She assured me the sample indicated that I was sterile as a eunuch, yet my penis was still able to pulse in ejaculation and I could enjoy sex as much if not more than before because I didn't have to wait to recover from having ejaculations like before. The only trade-off I could think of was that it would probably take me a lot longer to become excited in the first place. I liked that idea because getting excited was the fun part of sex as far as I'm concerned, not the quick sudden explosion, after which men need to take a break. It meant that I didn't have to worry about whether or not my partner was satisfied, because I could keep on going after I climax, whereas other men usually cannot. Yeah, baby! I couldn't wait to tell Tom what I learned at the doctor's office. When I got back to the apartment, he was waiting for me with an unopened gift wrapped package. He gave the package to me and told me to unwrap it. "You've been getting better and better at applying your makeup under Lee's tutoring, so I thought you deserve a reward." The box inside the gift wrap contained six pairs of hoop earrings in various sizes. "These earrings are for pierced ears, Tom. I don't have pierced ears." "No, not yet, but Lee and her friend are on their way over. I don't trust those young airheads at the kiosks in the mall. They're amateurs! Lee's lady friend is a pro. She'll make sure both sides are perfectly even, so you won't need to have them redone later on." He no sooner said it when the doorbell rang. An hour later, I was sporting three studs in each earlobe, and the two women left us, after teaching me how to properly cleanse each piercing every single day for the next two weeks with an alcohol soaked sterile wipe. "Well gorgeous, how do you like your graduation present?" "The earrings are my graduation present? Tell me, coach. How did I fare." "Well, according to your doctor's report you scored a 36B on your last mammary exam. I'll have to buy you some new bras, girl! "You scored a solid one hundred on your deportment tests, and if you'll look in the mirror on your vanity, you'll see you passed the makeup application with flying colors. Now, I have to figure out what to do with you, because I sold my security business to a good friend of mine who will move in to our apartment, take over, and collect rent from the other tenants for me. "I made a deal that will yield enough money monthly so neither of us will have to work anymore, and we can live extremely well on the rents from my property holdings and what I can develop in the way of new customers down in Florida, where it doesn't snow in the wintertime, with you as my wife." "And If I don't go, where does it leave me? Who'll hire me? I'm a misfit?" "You are no misfit! You are a 'miss' and you'll fit perfectly into my plans, as my wife, because we'll get married. It's legal for us to get married now in Illinois. They lined out the gender question on the license application form, and your doctor advised me you're ninety nine percent female now." "Is that so? Well, I still retain my little male origin, I'll have you know. " "Little isn't the right word to describe it. It's tiny, according to your doctor. She said you could hide it all deep inside of your lower torso and still have plenty of room to accommodate a manly penis like mine." "What makes you think I'm willing to accommodate a manly penis the likes of yours?" "I've been hungering for your svelte body for close to five months now, and I'm a patient man, but every man has limits. I'm willing to do whatever it'll take to make you happy. You're as close to being a real woman as you can get without having the final surgery, which is dangerous, extremely painful and totally unnecessary, as far as I'm concerned. I'll gladly pay for whatever surgery is needed to invert that useless, non-functional male appendage of yours into vaginal orifice so you can never accuse me of expecting you to participate in gay sex with me, but I don't believe that will be necessary." "No? Why don't you believe it will?" "When you were a virile male, you willingly provided oral sex to a steady girlfriend. You, in turn expected her to reciprocate." "What does that have to do with us?" "You told me that on the day we first met. She left you high and dry, so you dallied in crossdressing. I understand you told your endocrinologist you're willing to be receptive to my advances, since you're more female than male according to her observations. . If that's the case, will you reciprocate in kind if I'm willing provide you with the kind of orgasms you're capable of enjoying now? I'm willing to perform oral sex on your tiny clit until you orgasm to your heart's delight, if you will agree to reciprocate, just like you wanted your girlfriend to do for you." "But, but, that would mean I'd have to --- to fellate you!" "Yes, as my dutiful wife, I will expect you to go down on me to please me, as, at the present time, the only way you can satisfy your sexual desire is to have me excite you the same way you excited your last girlfriend. Like you, I'll expect you to perform fellatio on me, just as you expected her to perform oral sex on you. You can't have it both ways, Bobbi. You're a girl now. You want to have it both ways, and want to know what it is like to be treated like a woman. This is how you can find out. Act like a woman!" He took me into his arms and kissed me, over and over. Then he touched my left breast and put the protruding nipple in between his thumb and forefinger until I gasped for breath. His large, coarser fingertips felt far better against my rising nipple then the soft fingers of the doctor. "Oh, kiss it, Tom! Kiss it and make me cum! I can't hold out forever! I want to be a woman. I want to be your woman!" He continued to toy with my left nipple and began to kiss my right one until I begged him to slow down. I didn't want to succumb to his ardor, so soon but I couldn't help myself. I was drowning in my lust for his strength and wanted him to continue, though I knew where it would lead. He picked me up, carried me to his bedroom, the 'master' bedroom and put me on his bed. He then slowly removed my clothes. Before long, I was down to my panties and long-line bra that left my two swollen nipples exposed in the half cups that didn't quite cover them. He worked the two nipples in his fingertips and slid down between my open thighs. Before I could stop him, he was sucking devotedly on the limp vestige of my tiny penis he referred to as my clitoris. I bucked and heaved with his head in my lap until I came, and came, and came. He lapped it up dutifully and when I stopped gushing, I let out a deep sigh. I couldn't remember sex ever being so good. While I was basking in a wonderful feeling afterglow, I felt Tom readjusting my tiny three-piece set, pushing it all up into my body cavity with his thick thumb. "What are you doing, Tom?" "I'm tucking your vestiges away so you'll have a flatter Venus mound. You don't want to have your pecker pointing the way in front of you. Do you?" "But I'm not going anywhere. Am I?" "Only to heaven, if I have anything to say about it. If you don't want to please me orally, I'm going to plow a furrow in your abdomen with my cock. I'm in dire need, woman. I've been waiting for you to ripen for over five months. I'll be very gentle, I promise, but you have me all worked up! You will have to provide me with some relief, or I'll get a set of blue-balls! Please, Bobbi, I got you off, didn't I?" He did, but I didn't want him to penetrate my body cavity until I was sure it was able to handle the size of his penis. I still didn't know how big his penis was! "Okay, okay. Roll over onto the flat of your back, but Let me catch my breath first, Tom, then let me get on top, so I can control your penetration." He rolled over to the opposite side of the bed and I got up from under him. We switched places and I knelt over him with his huge manhood pointing up at my tiny groin. I straddled his legs and put the head of his monster cock up against my groin where I was holding my own tiny three-piece set up inside of my torso. There was no possible way for me to put his cock inside of my body along with my own parts. Of that I was quite sure, but I rubbed the head of it against my groin and surprisingly, the head of his cock forced my groin to stretch enough to allow the mushroom head of it to slip inside. I didn't dare move out of fear of rupturing tender tissue inside my inverted scrotum. I began to slowly rock back and forth in consort with his slow, tiny thrusts. I leaned over him to gain leverage, and he placed his massive hand on my ass, which felt good to me. Before I knew it, Tom had flooded my lower body cavity with scaling hot sperm, even though I didn't have a vagina, and his cock only penetrated my groin by a little over an inch or so. I was able to bring him off like a woman normally brings a man off, which made me feel a bit lightheaded. I had done it! I had given Tom an orgasm in the way a woman should do it. I felt him lose rigidity under me, which made me feel even better, because it meant I had satisfied him sexually. I kissed him over and over and hugged him to me, like I wanted to keep him sated. The best part was that I was still a little horny, even though he had gotten me off with his wiggly tongue earlier. I slowly slid down his body to examine his monster cock, to know what I was dealing with. It was right there before me, soft and unthreatening looking, so I gave it a tentative kiss, to see what his sperm was like. I had tasted my own often when I was still a masturbating teen, out of curiosity. I was licking my red lips when I felt his hand on top of my head, urging me forward. His hand on top of my head was powerful, so I parted my lips a little, hoping he would let me kiss the head again and let me up. No such luck, Tom wanted me to give him a blowjob. If I was really to become his wife, giving my husband head would be an obligation I couldn't avoid. Women are supposed to cater to their husbands' sexual needs. That's what my dad and older brothers had told me often enough when I was growing up. Of course, back then, when I was growing up I didn't expect I'd ever be the partner giving someone head. Still, here I was with his growing cock before me. I was really reluctant to make a move, but then, I recall that women are expected to be complacent and do what their husbands want. I figured if the women of the world could do it and survive intact; giving a man a blowjob couldn't be that difficult a task to accomplish. I parted my lips tentatively and let the head of his cock slip slowly past them and over my teeth until it made contact with my tongue. It had an odd smell to it, but it didn't taste bad, only bland. I felt Tom's other hand join his first, and the two hands cradled my head, moving it slowly up and down over his cock. I let more of his cock enter my mouth. He didn't force me to take any more of it. He just held my head in place until I became accustomed to his cock filling my mouth completely. I swirled my tongue around the head of Tom's cock and I heard him moan appreciatively. Apparently, he liked what I'd done, so I did it again. Saliva was forming inside of my mouth, which made his cock more slippery. I took advantage of the saliva by allowing more of his cock into my mouth until it bumped against the opening of my throat. I'd heard of deep throat, but didn't want to attempt it. I continued to leisurely bob up and down on his big cock, priding myself on my stamina. I formed an "O" with my lips, undulated my tongue, and continued to take as much of his cock into my mouth as I could. Suddenly, he held my head fast, and his cock rose up into my mouth until it filled the opening to my throat. He didn't retract it, but held it in there until I could take a breath around the perimeter. Once he knew I could breathe, he resumed entry into my throat until I had most of his cock buried in me with his pubic hairs tickling my nose. I was sucking on his entire cock! "Back off now, woman!" He exclaimed as he pulled my head up until the head of his cock was along my tongue. I felt surge after surge of his steamy cum hitting my tongue until I had to swallow it or drown in it. I swallowed. He continued to hold my head in place until the surges diminished altogether and he slumped back, allowing me to wrap my new breasts around his limp, warm cock. It felt comforting to feel his warm cock nestled between them. He lifted my face with in his big hands. "That was the best damned blowjob I had ever received, Bobbi. You are a natural. You should have been born a girl. I know it was your first, yet it's hard to believe you never sucked a cock before. You wore me out girl, and I haven't had any sex for almost a year. He pulled me up beside him and kissed me deeply, with a lot of tongue, and sucked the remnants of his discharge from my mouth. "Next time, I want to fuck you between your new tits, cum all over your face, and then lick it off. Then, I'm going to bump fuck your tight little groin until you have multiple orgasms. I want sex with me to be as good for you as it is for me." I didn't think hearing him talk dirty to me would excite me, but it did! He was true to his word, too. Sex with Tom Stone as Mrs. Tom Stone is as good as sex gets. He introduced me to purging, rimming, anal, and my lower body cavity penetration, once I became more resilient by repeatedly using a prosthetic dialator to stretch the empty skin of my scrotal sac. I could get fucked just like a woman, and I didn't need to get a vaginaplasty to give my main man the ride of his life. It was just tighter than most women were, which we both were able to enjoy immensely, because my tiny clit was at the bottom of my body cavity lubricating the passageway for him. Well, that is the end of Bobbi's story. I hope you liked it! Virg!