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Doctor Knocker By Cassandra Morgan Given my circumstances, it is extremely fortunate that I was married to the finest breast surgeon in Maryland. My chest was red, puffy. I was constantly scratching it, like a kid with chicken pox. It looked surreal. "What have you done, Jack? Did you get into some poison ivy? Did your blood-pressure medicine have a reaction?" Amber frowned as she rubbed a milky white lotion over my chest. "Nothing I remember, baby," I said. "I just woke up this morning, and they were driving me crazy. I kept rubbing my chest against the mattress." She reached into a black bag sitting my her. "Well, I'm going to give you some anti-inflammatory pills. They should make the swelling go down. " "I hope so," I said. "Otherwise," she winked, "it'll just be another day at the office for me." She giggled. I didn't. A man doesn't like having his chest made fun of, even by the doctor who happens to be his wife. If you kept up with the medical journals, you've heard of my wife, Amber Knox. Doctor Knocker, they call her. The guardian of breasts. The savior of cleavage. Amber has been one of the best breast surgeons in Baltimore for years. Last fall, she took an additional job in research at Johns Hopkins University, studying biopsies and cancer treatments and the like. She really wanted to find a cure for cancer. The joke around our dinner table was that my wife was so into boobs that she married one.She had only said the line, oh, 10,000 times or so. But Amber was terrific at her job. She had a manner of easing the jolt of bad news for her patients. She cared, making the assault agains the deadly disease a two-woman undertaking. She could do a perfect breast reconstruction for women who had had mastectomies. She could make a middle age woman smile with her reshaping surgeries. She was talented at finding the smallest spot on an x-ray, and informative as she gave her advice on how a woman should proceed. She was funny. Really, she was. But not about breasts. They were not tits, and they were not hooters, and they were honkers. They were breasts, a vital organ to her patients, a symbol of womanhood. Every now and then, Amber would refer to a woman's "puppies," or her "girls," but that's as much slang as she used. Slang was a sign of disrespect for an organ that has helped a civilization carry on. I was proud of her. Me? I was just a lowly schoolteacher. Jack Knox. But Amber carried the weight in our house. It was Dr. Knox and her husband. Dr. Knox and other. Dr. Knox and ... what was your name again? She commanded respect. Not even Rusty, our dog, listened to my commands. "Do you have a soft t-shirt to wear, Jack?" she asked, breaking my thought pattern. "Soft? I have my normal t-shirts." "Well, you're going to be tender for a while yet. I think I might have a t-shirt that's softer for you." "Amber...I'll be okay." She shrugged. "Suit yourself. I just know that pruritus -- that's the medical term -- can drive you crazy." "What causes it?" "Oh, it could be a number of things. Impetigo. A rash. A bug bite, although it's probably not that. You wouldn't get bugs to bite both nipples. Not unless it was a horny little bug. Maybe it's atopic dermatitis. Or maybe you're going through puberty.? ?Amber! Don?t make fun of me.? She giggled. ?I?m just saying,? she said. ?That looks like a young girls? breasts, Jack.Maybe you have gynecomastia. Ever been diagnosed for that?? ?Gyno-what?? ?It?s a growth in the male breasts, usually when your body produces too much estrogen. But it usually happens at birth, or at puberty, or late in life. But you?re not the right age for it. It happens a lot with heavy men, but you?re kind of a wimp.? ?Hey!? She giggled. ?But you?re my wimp. My wimp with puppies. You know, they feel kind of nice.? I looked down, and she was still rubbing the lotion of me. I twisted away from her. and walked into the bathroom. ?Be that way, lady,? she said, yelling after me. ?I hope you don?t grow a vagina.? I stopped. I turned to her. ?Could...could that happen?? I said. ?Oh, hell no,? she said. ?I?m just making fun of you. Look, in babies, gynecomastia usually goes away on its own. Maybe it will with you, too. And even if it doesn?t, so what? You?ll just have breasts like half of the adult population.? ?Honey, a man can?t have tits...I mean, breasts. Eventually, everyone will see.? ?And what if they do? Hell, Jack, you?re an English teacher. You aren?t a construction worker. You don?t play linebacker for the Ravens. What?s a little swelling in the chest to you? Don?t be a baby.? ?I just don?t want to feed a baby,? I said. ?Oh, Jackie. Are you pregnant. Is that why your breasts are growing?? She snickered. ?Guys don?t get pregnant,? I said. ?Well, they don?t grow those, either. Here. Here?s a silk top. If the itching gets too bad, put it on. I won?t be here to make fun of you No one will see you .... unless you want them to.? ?Why would I want that?? ?Well, a lot of women like to show them off.? ?Amber, this is hard enough. Please stop.? ?I could lend you a nightgown. if you want to find a matching pair of panties, look in my drawer.? ?Are you done?? ?Oh, baby. if you do have gynecomastia, I don?t think either of us are done.? * * Amber came home that night, and sure enough, I was wearing her black silk top. It felt cool on my swollen nipples. ?Oh, Jackie,? she said. ?You look so sexy in that.? ?I?m not trying to look sexy. I?m just trying to make the rash go away.? She smiled. ?Let me look,? she said. ?Do you mind if I do a few tests?? ?I...I guess not.? She lifted her blouse over my head. Her eyebrows narrowed. She was in work mode now. She gently touched the underside of my...well, my tiny breasts. She cupped them in her hands and squeezed gently. She flicked the end of the nipple. She took out a tape measure and measured the aureola. She jotted notes into her work pad. ?Amber....am I okay?? ?It?s puzzling, Jack. They?re healthy, it seems. But I can?t figure out why a 28-year-old man?s boobs would start to grow. Are you sure you haven?t taken any of my pills? Especially those pink ones?? ?Of course not. I?m not a doctor like you, but I know not to take someone else?s medicine.? She nodded. She kept prodding. ?Turn around,? she said. ?Okay. Why?? ?I need to measure your backside. If your estrogen levels have risen, it?ll probably show up there, too.? It was embarrassing, with her poking and prodding and measuring. My wife usually female patients. It was a bit disturbing that I was now one of them. Amber softly smacked my rear. ?Sweetie, we need to do these tests every day, okay? We need to see what?s wrong with you.? ?Um...okay. If you say so.? ?I do. Now, I don?t know how you?re going to take this. But I think we should buy you some training bras. They?ll protect your nipples from being chaffed by your shirts.? ?What? No. I won?t do that. I?m not some tranny.? She smiled. ?You would do very well to be like my patents who are transgender. They?re sweet and nice and absolutely lovely.? ?You have...transgender patients?? ?Well, duh. Where else do you think transgender women go to get their drugs? I mean, some get them on the street, but the ones who can afford me, or whose insurance will help with their transitions, came to Johns Hopkins. They aren?t complaining about their breast growth, I?ll tell you that.? ?But they...they want it. I?m growing like a cantaloupe here.? ?No, you?re not. I bet you?re barely an A cup. Or smaller.? ?I want to be an empty cup.? ?And I want to win the Nobel Prize. But the judges are all men, so I probably won?t.? I looked at the floor. ?So am I stuck with these for a while?? ?Tell you what, Jackie. Let?s get a second opinion. Miriam Billings works with me. I?ll bet she?d check you out. i?ll call her. But don?t be alarmed if she tells you to wear a bra, too. It?s standard for developing young girls.? ?I?m not a young girl.? I said. ?Imagine you are. It might make this easier.? Amber started to walk away. ?Amber?? I said. ?I appreciate your caring. I really do. I know a lot of your patients have a lot more severe problems than I do. I?m just embarrassed.? ?Don?t be,? Amber said. ?It?s like having the flu or the Easley. Maybe you have the chest mumps. Whatever, we can deal with it.? She turned. Then she looked back and grinned. ?Besides, I think you?re kind of a cute wife.? * * Two weeks later, we were in the office of Dr. Billings, a tall, brunette woman. She greeted us warmly and ushered us into her office. She looked at her charts. Then she looked at me. ?So you want to grow your tits?? she asked. ?You look feminine enough.? ?Um, no,? I said. ?I want to stop them from growing.? ?Jack is my husband, Miriam,? Amber said. ?Oh, I see. We?ll that?s a different problem, isn?t it? So you don?t want a vagina?? ?God, no,? I blurted. ?I don?t want to be female. I just have...these. It?s hard for a man.? ?Take your shirt off, please, Jack,? she said. ?Well, isn?t that a nice training bra. I love black ones.? ?Amber makes me wear them.? ?She makes you?? Dr. Billings said, smirking. ?Does she make you dress like the French maid and cook her breakfast? Does she make you wear her wedding dress and recite your vows?? ?It?s...it?s not like that, Dr. Billings,? I said. ?This is strictly a medical analysis, Jackie, but could you curtsey for me?? ?Curtsey?? I was confused. She giggled. ?I?m just having a laugh at you, Jack,? she said. ?Did you get in for your blood work?? ?Yes, ma?am,? I said. ?Let?s see. Your levels of estrogen are up, it says here. Are you sure you?re not taking something? Amber?s birth control pills, maybe? Or a form of estrogen? Premarin maybe?? ?I?m not taking any drug but caffeine,? I said. ?Miriam, I?ve been doing tests. They?re...they?re growing. ? ?Growing?? I asked. She hadn?t said that to me. ?They?re a full A cup now,? Amber said. ?She?s growing as fast as Sheila Driscoll did last year.? ?Your transexual patient?? Miriam said. Amber nodded. ?One of them. I wonder if Jack has gotten into her pills somehow.? ?I?m not taking any pills,? I repeated. ?I wondered about gynecomastia,? Amber said. ?It?s a thought,? Miriam said. ?But the age doesn?t fit. Still, it happens. Every trans woman?s dream. Jack, do you dream about yours growing? Do you imagine yourself with a nice pair?? ?That?s a question,? Amber said. ?Do you want them so bad it?s psycho- semantic?? ?Doc,? I said. ?I don?t want them at all. Can?t you just ... cut them off?? ?Dr. Billings looked at me and sadly shook her head. ?Not without figuring out why your body is pumping girly juice into your bloodstream. As long as you're producing estrogen, they?ll keep growing. Let?s find the solution. In the meantime, enjoy them. They really are fun.? ?But doc, they show!...I?m a teacher.? ?You guys don?t have women teachers?? Dr. Billings said. ?Tits are kind of common on a school staff.? ?Not for guys!? I said. She smiled. ?So how do feel about this, Amber. Do you want to share your bed with someone who has a pronounced bosom?? ?If he has a disease, it?s not his fault. I want to make it easier for her...I mean him.? . ?Amber, could I talk to Jack for a moment? Just the two of us. We?ll catch up. Maybe lunch on Thursday?? ?I?d like that,? my wife said. ?We can go to Flannery?s. I?d die for one of their Cobb Salads.? She leaned over and gave Miriam a quick hug, then she spun and walked toward the door. ?I?ll be in the waiting room,? she said. She left, and Dr. Billings looked at me and smiled, her lips tight. ?What is it, Dr. Billings?? I said. ?You can tell me,? she said, conspiratorially. ?Doctor-patient relationships are protected.? ?I don?t understand.? ?Jack,? she said. ?How long have you wanted to be a girl?? ?What? I don?t want to be a girl.? ?Well, maybe not fully. But you want boobs, right? I mean, I know, Jack. Breasts are terrific. You aren?t the first man to want them. You aren?t the first man to want another man to play with them.? ?No. You?re wrong. They..,they just grew.? ?I won?t tell your wife,? she repeated. ?She?s my friend, a good one. But your needs are more important?? ?Dr. Billings, I?m not doing making them grow.? ?If you say so. But there is no shame. A lot of men want to be women. A lot of men want to flirt with it. Sissies. Cross-dressers. It?s okay if you are one.? ?I?m not,? I said. ?Why would you ask that?? ?I?ve treated trans women before,? she said. ?They had the same kind of drug. It?s called Estradiol. You take it orally, although there are shots. It makes for a relatively quick transition. The streets are full of Estradiol. A lot of trans women take them? ?I?m not a trans woman,? I said. ?Of course, you?re not,? Dr. Billings winked. ?But another cup size or two, and you will be.? * * Every morning, Amber ran her tests on me. She muttered to herself sometimes, but she rarely shared her diagnosis. I just knew I was getting larger, and that she constantly was on me about wearing a bra. On those days I did not, there was holy hell to pay. As an expert on women?s breasts, she knew what she was talking about. So, most days, I wore the damn things. I would wear a sports coat or a bulky sweater to help hide it, but I knew I was a burning fuse. Sooner or later, someone was going to find out. And sure enough, they did. I was at the blackboard in English one day, talking about Kafka and his Metamorphosis, when Susie Langham noticed mine. ?Mr. Knox!? she said, a little too loud. ?Are you wearing a bra?? The noise in the room was loud and out of control. ?Mr. Knox! Do you have hooters?? ?Or do you just work there?? ?Shit. My English teacher is queer. Hey, Johnny. You were right. He?s a fag.? ?My God, Them is perky.? ?Shit. Mr. Knox is Mrs. Knox.? ?Doctor Knocker is married to Mini-knocker.? ?The cock knocker!? ?Mr. Knox. Are you wearing panties, too?? ?How long have you wanted to be a girl, Mr. Knox?? ?I?ll let you suck my dick for an A.? ?You?d let him suck for five points of extra credit.? ?Are you a RuPaul,Mr. Knox? Are you a Caitlyn?? ?Why don?t you wear a dress? You?d look good in a dress.? ?Why don?t you wear earrings?? ?Are you dating Mr. Sullivan? And on it went. The students peppered me with questions, and no one seemed satisfied with my answer that it was just a medical condition. The kids seemed certain that I was transitioning. The girls gathered around me and offered makeup tips. The boys huddled in the back, asking each other if they would ?do me.? I guess it represented growth. When I was in high school, transitioning students had the crap kicked out of them. But now, I was just a symbol that you didn?t have to be who your parents said you were. I was the Rainbow Teacher.? By the end of the hour, the students were calling me ?Mrs. Knox.? I could not convince them not to do so. To a man in a bra, it was devastating. What was the fucking use? ?Mrs. Knox,? Selma Carroll said. ?I think you?re very pretty.? ?Me, too. But will the size of your tits be on the test?? * * I told Amber about it, of course. And to my great puzzlement, she grinned. ?Then you don?t have to hide anymore, Jackie,? she said. ?Jack can become Jill. You can wear a dress in public if you want.? ?I ... I don?t think I?m ready.? ?Sure you are1 Imagine not having to wear that bulky-ass sweater. Wear one of my tops. Hell, you can wear lipstick if you want.? ?I?m not wearing lipstick. I?m still a man.? ?Of course you are, Jilly. You?re the man with the best cleavage at Reagan High School. You?re a man with an embroidered bra. Now come here.? I walked over to her, and she leaned down and kissed me. She rubbed her breasts against mine, and the electricity crackled through my body. She cupped them. She kissed the right one through my shirt. It felt terrific. ?Mmm,? she said. ?I think they?re bigger today.? ?They?re more sensitive,? I said. ?They don?t itch much anymore. But they feel heavy. I keep bumping into things.? ?Take off your shirt. I want to see.? I pulled my shirt ? her shirt, actually, a blue blouse with darts ? over my head She reached over and unfastened my bra. I jiggled free. ?Well, hello, girls,? Amber snickered. ?Damn, those are perky. Let me measure them.? I watched as she worked. ?A B-cup, Jilly. You?re a woman now.? ?No, I?m not.? ?Come on. If you went to a strip joint, and a dancer waggled these at you, you?d play motorboat until last call. We have to get you more bras so you don?t spill out of yours.? ?Now come to bed. Momma wants to play...with the other momma.? I didn?t feel annoyed. I slid into bed. I felt her lips on my breasts. Normally, that would make me hard as a rock. But not tonight. Tonight, I just lay back and let her lick my nipples. And to tell you the truth, it felt wonderful. It was a thousand points of light, pouring out my breasts. And for the first time, I didn?t hate them. The more Amber kissed them, the nicer it was. I kissed hers, too. I rubbed mine against hers, up and down, then sideways. ?Go lower, wife,? she said. ?Kiss my pussy. And maybe I?ll kiss yours.? I didn?t have a pussy, of course. But I didn?t bring that up. * * The next morning, I picked out one of Amber?s blue tops. I slid it on over my head. She smiled at me. ?Hey, it has room for my....girls,? I said. ?Yeah? You going to wear a skirt with it?? ?Of course not,? I said. ?This is all for comfort. And with the kids deciding I was transitioning, I mean, why not? Why not be comfortable?? ?How about my white slacks?? she said ?That would look good.? ?No I?ll just wear jeans.? ?Kind of casual for school, Jilly,? she said. ?Mrs. Nelson might spank you. Of course, if that?s what. you want...? ?I think I look okay,? I said. ?Are you kidding? No makeup? Jeans? You look like a woman who is trying to pass as a man, not the other way. You should date Angie Mason, the gym teacher. I think she likes girls who fix cars, if you know what I mean.? ?Ha-ha,? I said. But Amber was right. The girls insisted I wear makeup. Beth Wilson swore I needed to wear a dress. Celia Donaldson said I needed makeup. ?Embrace your girl side, Mrs. Knockers,? she said. ?I mean, Mrs. Knox. No one really cares.? ?Well, I care, Celia. I?m not transgender.? ?Riiiight.? ?No, I?m serious. I have a medical condition.? ?What? You gave a doctor a blow job?? I sighed. ?No, Celia. I?m not gay.? ?Oh, everyone?s gay. And no one is. That?s just labeling by the Republicans. We?re all just forms of energy making each other happy.? ?That?s...very interesting Celia.? A knock came at the door as we were talking. I turned, and it was Mrs. Nelson, the vice-principal. ?Can we talk, Mrs. Knox?? ?It?s...it?s Mr. Knox.? She smiled. ?Well, it?s up to you to say when you want to change.? ?Please come in. How might I help you?. She nodded. ?Congratulations on your transition, Mrs.... Mr. Knox,? she said. ?We know it?s a difficult time for you, and we want to assure that our diversity program is in full swing. You won?t lose your job over becoming a woman.? Christ. Her too? ?I?m not becoming a woman, Mrs. Nelson,? I said. ?I have a medical condition. The doctors are trying to figure it out.? ?Well, that?s out of my hands,? she said. ?But we need to talk about the way you?re dressing in front of the students.? ?I see. Is it a problem for me to wear a bra?? ?Not at all,? Mrs. Grant said. ?And your top is nice. But we think we should encourage you to embrace your transition to remove confusion. What do your clothes say to young transgender students? Jeans just won?t do, Mr. Knox.So is that a woman?s top?? ?It?s my wife?s. It has the darts in the blouse for my....top.? She nodded. She bit her lip. ?Then you should wear a skirt with it. Maybe some heels. Makeup, for sure. Studies show that kids react better when they don?t have to figure it out.? ?But, Mrs. Nelson. I just have a condition ... with my breasts.? ?Look, the school year is half over. You can wear skirts for a few months, right? Just ride it out, and by then, maybe the doctors will figure it out. Hey, it isn?t like you're a big man. You?ll fit in just fine. Sexual reassignment surgery is fairly common these days.? Was that a compliment? That I was small enough to be a woman? That I wasn?t a ?real? man? That SRS would work for me. ?I?ll think about it, Mrs. Nelson.? ?I hope so. I?d hate to see you suspended for insubordination. Look, Mr. Knox. I don?t care that you want to be a woman. I don?t care about all this malarkey about a ?medical condition.? You can marry Coach Reynolds at halftime if you want to. But you?ll get in deep trouble if you resist wearing the proper clothes. Besides, don?t most of you guys like wearing dresses? ?You guys?? ?Mrs. Knox. I know, okay. My brother was transgender. So don?t lie about it. It insults every boy who's become a girl. Just come to school tomorrow with a new attitude and a new name.? ?Uh...my wife calls me Jilly.? ?That?s fine, Jilly. Now, no more talk about a ?medical condition.? You have friends here, Jilly. Accept who you are. Oh, and if you want, you can go to Annette?s support group.? ?Annette?? ?My brother. Well, I should say my sister. She goes with her boyfriend, Todd. You?ll like her. She?s just like you.? Just like me? Oh, she was in deep shit, too? * * And I stood in front of my class in a yellow summer dress and yellow heels. My makeup was on, and a wig fell to my shoulders. Do you want to teach a class on Hamlet and Ophelia when you?re dressed like Juliet? The class seemed comfortable with my new presentation. It was only me who felt odd. The panties were snug, but they felt nice. The underwire of my bra ? I was a C now ? dug into me. My heels were cute, but damn, they hurt my feet. Amber had gotten the biggest kick out of my dressing up. She stood with me the day before class, and she said that she thought my hose looked perfect on my freshly shaved legs. She loved my mascara. Me? I kept thinking ?medical condition.? Shit. This was going to be all the way, wasn?t it? ?Jilly? Can I ask you something. Will you be honest with me.? ?I?m always honest with you, Amber.? ?What did you take?? ?I?m sorry?? ?In the beginning. When your boobies were starting to grow. What drug did you take?? ?I?ve told you before. I didn?t take anything. I wouldn?t even know what to take.? ?Jilly, I have a lot of breast-enhancement medicine in my bag. It would have been easy for you take take some of them without me knowing.? ?Amber, I swear. This is a disease. Gino-Whatever you called it.? ?Gynecomastia,? she said. ?But you?re too old for that. Or too young. They wouldn?t just have started to sprout.? ?Amber, I?m standing here in a dress. I have on lingerie. I?m wearing a corset. I?ve been embarrassed enough. If I had taken something to get like this, I?d tell you. I really would. I?m married to a breast surgeon. Who better to ask if you want breasts?? ?I don?t believe you,? Amber said. ?I?m sorry, but I don?t believe you. I think you?re a sissy. I think you like sex with men.? ?I do not. What can I say? What can I do? I need you to trust me.? ?There is nothing you can say. Enjoy your life as a girl. But know this: When you go to class tomorrow, you?ll be wearing a chastity cage.? ?Why the hell would I do that?? I said. ?You don?t want to make a tent in your skirt in front of the Sweathogs, do you?? she said. ?Well, no, but...? ?It?s okay. We?ll pick up one later. It?ll be good for you to be restrained. I wouldn?t want another teacher playing with your itty- bitty dick.? ?Hey! It?s not itty-bitty.? ?Nah. It's all of three inches,? she giggled. ?I?m serious. Now that you?ve schemed your way into being a girl, you need to live like it. You need a butt-plug. You need a penis gag.? ?Honey, that all sounds ... gay.? ?You know what sounds gay? ?Say hello to my husband, Jilly. She?s a great cock sucker.'? ?Amber, it?s not like that. This is not my plan.? ?Oh, just be glad it worked out. You get to be a woman. You get to have a vagina and chase dockworkers.? ?Amber...I?m not a transvestite.? ?Two snips and a stitch, and you won?t be. You?ll be a lady. I can?t wait for Christmas for your mother to get a look.? With that, she pulled out her accursed tape measure again. She pushed, and she felt me up, never smiling as she did so. ?I just hate that you couldn?t be honest with me, Jilly,? she said. ?If you wanted to be a girl, you should have just said so. I could have helped. Tell me, Jilly. Do you have a boyfriend? Are you sucking dicks on the side now?? ?Amber! I?m not gay.? ?No one said you are. You?re a woman. Sex with a man makes you straight. Even if you two rub dicks.? And so it went. She would not believe that I hadn?t taken something. But I hadn?t. I hated pills. I didn?t want to be female. I just was. * * Every week, the Happy Valley Rec Center would host several support groups where the members had pain in common. The was an Alcoholics Anonymous Group. There was a Battered Women Support Group. There was a MADD group, and a VFW group, and a Fear the Turtle group from the University of Maryland. There was also a Trans Women?s group. Which is why I was here. I moved through the aisles, wearing an off-white dress with a red belt and red heels. Around the room, there were four couples, include Annette, the woman who had invited me. She sat with her arm looped around her boyfriend Todd?s arm. ?You?re Jilly? Welcome to our group,? Annette said. She was wearing a red skirt with a black top. ?I?m Annette. This is Jughead.? ?I?m Todd,? he said. ?I put up with her.? ?He puts up with me,? she repeated, grinning. I looked around the room. Across from me was a large trans woman, maybe 6-2, maybe 200 pounds. He was wearing a little girls? pink dress. There was a black woman who was accompanied by a white woman. There were two delicate women close together. ?I?m Chrissie,? said the first. ?I?m Missy,? said the second. The women talked about things that everyday women talked about. The new Taylor Swift album. The Elton John movie. A sale at Macy?s. Trump. Felicity Huffman and her short-cut into Harvard. The Lobster Mac and Cheese at Stamos?. The rising costs of health care. The upcoming Gay Pride parade. I sat alone. Amber had dropped me off, because she said she was just too busy to attend with me. Besides, she said, this way, I could talk about my true urges toward becoming a woman. The medical condition talk was no longer allowed, it seemed. Amber was convinced I had taken something. She still did her tests, but I think she did them today only because she had done them yesterday and the day before. I sat in the red room, and a tall black man approached me. ?Hey, sweetness,? he said. ?Can I get you a coffee?? ?No thanks,? I said. ?I?m married.? ?Well, your husband isn?t here, is he?? ?My wife,? I said. ?Oh,? he said, moving toward Missy. ?Your dream date?? Annette said, giggling ?He...he hit on me,? I said. ?It happens. We have two types here. The trans women and the chasers. They think its a great place to meet a man in a dress. As if that?s all we are.? ?It is,? Chrissie said. ?They serve the best dick in this place.? Annette laughed. ?Missy will wring his neck. Yours, too.? ?What can I say,? Missy said. ?So many manly men.? Chrissie walked up. ?And so little ammunition.? I laughed. The truth of it was that I really didn?t mind this lifestyle. I had gotten used to the clothing, and to being seen in it. I liked the way it all felt on me. Maybe I was a trans after all. My cup size had settled into a C, big enough to make me feel self- conscious but not so big I could make a living as a pole dancer. As a teacher, I didn?t work the hours that Amber did. So I would clean up the house a little before she got home. Then a little more. And a little more. But she didn?t appreciate it. ?Fucking sissy,? Amber hissed at me the previous day. ?You want to be the fucking maid. I should have known.? ?Amber, I don?t want to be your maid, okay?? ?You want me to buy you a mop? You want me to buy you a uniform so you can scrape and bow and blow the UPS guy?? ?If you want, I?ll stop cleaning, okay?? ?Don?t deny yourself on account of me, Alice,? she said, using the name of the old Brady Bunch maid. I sighed. ?I don?t want to fight, Amber. I really don?t. I have fought this at every turn, and I?ve lost. You know it.? ?I know my husband is standing there in a blue dress. You went along with it so fast you had to be ready for it.? * * ?Do hurry up,? Amber was telling me. ?I know women take their time, but this is ridiculous.? I was wearing a red dress, but I didn?t have on jewelry or makeup. I stopped in front of the mirror and teased my hair. I looked good, I decided. Certainly, good enough to go to dinner. ?Who are these people, Amber? ?It?s Miriam. Dr. Billings.she wants to see how your coming along now you?ve decided to become a woman? ?Amber ... you know I haven?t decided that.? ?Well, your presentation says it. Here. Put these in your purse.? ?What are...? I froze. She had just handed me four condoms. ?Amber! I don?t need these.? ?Better than catching something, sister,? she said. ?I?d hate for your hand to fall off because you had unprotected sex.? ?I?m not going to have sex,? I said. ?Poor Chandler,? She said, grinning. ?Jilly, sex is fun. Back when you were a man, we liked sex. Remember? So let it happen. You need to know. Chandler needs it. Guys are like that.? ?Look, when you said Miriam?s brother was coming along, I didn?t think it was a date.? ?Don?t think of it as dating. Think of it as fucking. His dick. Your ass. Your mouth. His nuts. Magic.? ?I won?t cheat on you.? ?Oh, baby. It isn?t cheating. It?s just sex. I give you my permission. I can give you a free get-out-of-panties card if you want.? I blushed. But I have to admit my butt tingled. Was I that feminine? Feminine enough to be taken by a guy? The doorbell rang. Miriam was there. She seemed a little pale, but she said she had been working hard. Then, standing beside her, was a tall blond-haired man with a goofy smile. ?This must be Jilly,? he said. ?You didn?t tell me she was a model.? He kissed my hand, and I went red again. I tried not to look at his crotch, but I might not have pulled it off. ?Guys, its time we left. Dinner is at seven. Then it?s off to Barnaby?s.? We ate crab cakes. We talked and laughed like old buddies.But when we finished, Amber said she and Miriam were going to take in a movie so we could be alone.So Chandler and I went to the bar alone. We moved through the crowd, and he reached out and took my hand. As it turned out, Chandler?s hands should have been named Lewis and Clark. They were discovers. We danced, and his hands kept feeling my back, or cupping my butt, or stroking my arm. Then he was kissing me, and his tongue was a serpent. ?We need to get out of here,? he whispered. And I nodded. My body was at war with mt brain. I had never had sex with a man, but everywhere Chandler touched left a burn mark. We rubbed against each other. We kissed. We fondled. ?I have your key,? he said. ?What will you do for it?? ?I?ll do anything,? I said. And I meant it. He leaned over and kissed me, soft and sweet. I kissed him back, feeling his late-in-the-day stubble. I was his. I wouldn?t fight it anymore. I sucked him, okay? I licked the bulb of his dick, and I fell into a rhythm where he fucked my face. He played with my boobs, even with my tiny cock. Amber had given me per,issuing, and I took full advantage. I loved him in my ass. I spent the night at his house, savoring his sperm. I had the night of my life. I felt sorry for Amber, who had just seen a movie. * * If I was emotional then, however, imagine my feelings a month later when I was called into the office by Mr. James Wharton, the school superintendent. He was a solemn looking man, with great hair and gold-rimmed glasses. He motioned me to the chair in front of him. I tucked my lavender skirt under my legs. I sat. ?So you?re the trans lady,? Mr. Wharton said. ?I?m Jilly Knox,? I said. ?I don?t identify as trans. It?s a medical condition.? He smiled. ?Well, you?re lovely. I?d hardly know you were gay.? ?I?m not gay. I have a wife.? I said, but after Chandler, who was I to challenge labels. ?Regardless. None of that is why we?re here. Mrs. Knox, it?s always hard when the school system decides to make a change. But I?m afraid your performance hasn?t quite measured up.? ?That?s bull,? I said. ?I?ve gotten rave reviews as a teacher. My students love me.? ?I?m sorry. I can?t say much more because of legal ramifications.? ?This is because I wear women?s clothing, isn?t it? I was assured that wouldn?t affect my job.? ?Of course not. We have supported you fully in your transition. We've just needed to make a change.? ?You?re lying. This is all because of these.? I lifted my breasts. ?Mrs. Knox. I swear to you.? ?It?s the old dodge of firing people with alternative lifestyles and blaming in on something else.? ?It isn?t that at all.? ?Mr. Wharton. Please don?t hand me a load of crap. What do you want? Money? Sexual favors?? ?I,..I?m not asking for either, Jilly. But I?ll be honest. I wouldn?t mind if you sucked my cock. I ... might be able to find a way to keep you on staff.? He unzipped his pants, and this little wrinkled penis fell out. He looked at me hungrily, ?I knew it. You want me to whore for my job.? ?No. I?m just willing to reconsider ....? I?ll be honest. I thought about it. I needed the job, and Amber and I weren?t getting along. I thought about sinking to my knees and taking him between my lips. Shit. He probably wouldn?t last a minute. But what would that say about me? Shit. Amber was right. I could always be a maid, flouncing around and saying ?Yes Mistress? all day long. I could be a stripper and jiggle my boobs for tips. I could hit the street corner and let men fuck my ass for money. Any of that would beat touching Mr. Wharton?s dick. ?No, thank you, Mr. Wharton,? I said. ?But I do have your kind offer on audio tape. You really should be more careful in the age of cell phones.? ?Wait. Mrs. Knox. I was trying to help you. Let?s don?t act in haste.? ?Your ass is mine, you sleazy asswipe. I think you?ll find a way to let me keep my job, won?t you? I think I?ll get a 10 percent raise. Wait. Make that 20 percent. Other than that, you?ll be famous as the asshole who tried to fuck a transsexual woman.? I stood, and as I walked out I realized there might be more truth to fiction to what I said. I was a transsexual woman. I didn?t plan on it. But that?s how my life turned back, and there was no putting the paste back in the toothpaste tube. I walked out. I stood tall. I was trans and proud. * * Amber wasn?t home when I got back. I looked on the table, and I saw she had left a note that she would be at the hospital all evening. Crap, I said. I wanted to tell her about my encounter with Mr. Wharton and his shriveled dick. I went to the kitchen. I made a couple of turkey sandwiches on brown bread. I threw a couple of sodas into a picnic basket. I threw in a large container of cole slaw. I drove to the hospital. I was still wearing my lavender skirt. I hoped that wouldn?t be a problem. I hoped Amber could take a few minutes to eat. If not, I had tried. I parked, and I went to the front desk. ?Is Dr. Knox on duty?? I said. ?Oh, hi, Jilly. No, she?s not working tonight, but I thought I saw her earlier. I think she?s here to see Miriam Billings.? ?Dr. Billings?? The receptionist looked at me. Hurt was on her face.?She?s a patient, Jilly. She has been for a while.? Oh, my God. I got her room number and rushed to the room. I looked through the window, and I saw Amber kneeling beside her bed, holding Miriam?s right hand in both of hers. Miriam looked awful, thin and weak. I started to enter, when Amber reached over and kissed Miriam on the lips. Her eyes were wet, but there was love there. Even a fool like could see it. What? My wife? A lesbian? With Miriam? For how long? Amber?s eyes were hollow and sad. She had been crying. She ran her fingers through Dr. Billings? hair. ?I love you,? she whispered. I walked into the room. I sat in the chair. Another time, I might have been angry. But the scene was just too sad for anger. Amber looked at me, sighed, and turned back to her friend. She kissed her hand. ?So you?ve found out, huh?? she said quietly. ?About Miriam and I.? ?I ...I guess,? I said. ?I wasn?t trying to find anything out. I wasn?t spying. I wasn?t trying to invade you privacy.? She shrugged. ?It?s cancer,? she said. ?She doesn?t have long.? ?I?m sorry, Amber. I wish you could have saved her.? ?I tried. I researched the shit of out it.? I blinked in realization. ?Was I part of that research, Amber?? She didn?t look at me. She just nodded her head. ?I was desperate. I was willing to try anything. Explore any relationships between breast growth and breast cancer growth and hormones. Nothing else mattered. I?m sorry, Jilly. I love her.? ?For how long?? I said. ?For about a year and a half,? she said quietly. ?I didn?t mean for it to happen. It just did. We were at a convention in Atlanta.She laughed at all the right points, you know? She smiled. She made me smile. She was a great lover. So then when the cancer hit, I needed research candidates.? ?Why didn?t you use a trans patient? They?d have loved to have the breasts.? ?Too many variables. Too much drug use. Too unreliable. Too hard to track their histories. I didn?t have time, Jilly. So I started grinding up some estrogen pills into your food and blaming it on gynecomastia. And once you started to grow, and you were diagnosed, I was in too deep. Hell, I even accused you of taking stuff on your own a few times. I knew better. I?m to blame for all of this,? ?So you made my tits grow to try to cure your lover?s?? ?Say breasts. Don?t say ?tits.?? ?Why not? That?s what they are. They?re tits. Melons. Boobies. Jugs. I have tits, Amber. You gave me tits.? ?Are you going to divorce me now? I couldn?t blame you. You could ruin my reputation, you know. Imagine the headlines. ?Noted surgeon turns her wife into a woman?? ?I don?t know what I?m going to do. I am so hurt you would do this to me. You didn?t even give me the option. But I feel the pain of your loss. I understand love.? ?I was desperate. I was wrong, but I was desperate.? ?I was offered a man?s dick tonight, Amber. That?s how far I?ve fallen.? ?I would have thought you'd sucked several dicks by now,? she said. ?That?s because you don?t know me. I?ve only fooled around on you once, Amber. With Chandler. And you encouraged it.? ?Will you stick with me, Jilly?? ?I don?t know. You love someone else. You've been having sex with someone else. You turned me into ... this. The bottom line is that weve changed. Can we go back after all of this?? ?I think that?s the best thing I did. You?re a great person. You should be a woman.? ?I?m a freak stumbling through the dark.? ?When this is over, Jilly, can we go home? I love Miriam, but I love you, too.? ?I don?t know. I have a lot of thinking to do.? She reached out. She held my hand. ?I?m sorry,? she said. ?Say your goodbyes to Miriam,? I said. ?We?ll talk when you?re better. We obviously have some decisions to make.? And I walked out into the night, not sure whether to turn to my right or my left, or to go home or go to Chandler?s, or to skip dinner or to eat, or the launder my dresses or throw them away. I was confused and off-balance. And as I thought about the decisions in front of me, I began to cry. Copyright, Cassandra Morgan (c) 2019