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BERNIE By Virginia Kane This piece of purely fiction follows an adult transgendered theme, including some erotic episodes. If you are not of legal age to read erotic prose, cease reading immediately, close the file, go elsewhere and do something suitable, as this story is not for you. Furthermore, if you're of legal age where you live and erotic subject matter offends you in any way, please don't read any further. You have been cautioned; so please, don't stick around. You'll only be annoyed, which would serve you right for ignoring this caution. 1. It was a Saturday afternoon late in October, and I was on the front steps of the DMV office on my way in, intending to get my driver's license renewed. It was a glum day and it was starting to drizzle lightly when I heard my name being called out. "Bernie! Hey, Bernie Fox!" "OW!"I turned to see who was calling out my name, unsure if I was being called after, and my foot slipped off of the edge of the wet concrete stair. I felt excruciating pain in my ankle as my loafer came off my left foot and my heel caught the stair's edge. I tried to transfer my weight to my right foot, only to lose my balance and my other loafer. My right foot missed a slippery, wet stair and I came crashing down on the heel of my right foot. My legs both crumbled under my weight from the pain, and I hit the stair with my right knee, causing me another source of excruciating pain. I then landed on my butt hard, on my right hip, mostly. I didn't know what hurt worse, my right knee, my ankles or my hip. All I could do was to grimace in agony! A friend of mine from back in high school came running up suddenly, apologizing over and over again for startling me. Suddenly, the rain really started to pour down heavily. He tried to help me get up to no avail, as I couldn't put any weight on either of my feet. "Are you hurt bad?" he asked dumbly. I was in so much pain, I couldn't answer. I could only gasp. A crowd started to gather and some kind soul was holding his umbrella over me while someone else told us he called 911 already and to not try to get up, that an ambulance was on its way. Even with the umbrella over me, my clothes were getting soaked and I couldn't find a position that would relieve me of any of the terrible pain. The paramedics arrived within minutes. After examining me, they put a brace around my neck, "just in case" and aluminum splints under both forelegs before carefully placing me on a stretcher. Still, I hurt everywhere at the same time and winced each time they moved me, careful as they were. Meanwhile Jake Evers, a friend from my high school days kept apologizing over and over, saying how it was his fault that I fell. Then, he insisted on riding to the hospital with me in the ambulance, as if he and I were the best of friends, even though I hadn't seen this nutcase in over five years. I was in too much pain to care, when the paramedic asked me if it was okay with me. I felt every seam in the road in my hip as the ambulance rushed me to the closest hospital. The paramedics took my vitals in transit and that was when I first paid any noticed that my friend: Jake from high school was riding in the ambulance. Speaking for me, he told the inquiring paramedic my name right off and they got a more positive I.D. from my expiring driver's license, social security card and health insurance information from my wallet, which I slowly, gingerly extracted from a hip pocket of my soaking wet pants. The hospital staff was already waiting at the emergency entrance when we arrived at the hospital and took over from the paramedics. They rushed me into a cubicle on a gurney, cut my wet jeans off of me while asking me all sorts of questions, most of which Jake answered. I was hurting, so I let him do the talking. One question he couldn't answer was: who my family physician was. I told them I didn't have one, so the emergency room nurse said the hospital would assign an appropriate doctor from a list approved by my insurance carrier, unless I insisted on someone specific, later on, my prerogative. A doctor arrived some time later, examined me, read the vitals that had been collected by the staff and paramedics, ordered some pain meds and told me he was sending me for x-rays of both ankles, my right knee and hip, all of which were beginning to turn black and blue, and ache considerably. By this time, I realized my fall was more serious than I had assumed and I was not going to be able to renew my driver's license any time soon. Once they had me on a catheter and I was getting some meds, I began to mellow out and turned to my friend: Jake. "Hey man, why did you call out to me like that?" "I'm really, really sorry, man. All this," he gestured by waving his hands at the cubicle, "is my fault. I mean, I called out to you like that because it's been what - five years since we saw each other last? I wasn't about to take a chance our paths wouldn't cross again for another five years." "What? Are you saying that you missed me, or something? Hey, if you wanted to reach me, I'm in the phone book, man." "No you're not. I checked." "Which one? "All of them." "Oh, that's right. I cancelled my landline. I just have a cell phone now." "Well, give me the number now, in case they throw me out of here or something." I gave him the number, which he wrote down on the palm of his hand with a ballpoint pen, like a typical dork. He hadn't changed a bit in five years, still, the goofy jerk with a pea brain. "Say, you went away to college. Didn't you? Did you ever finish?" "Yeah, I finished!" He sounded insulted. "Got my masters in Electrical Engineering." "I'm impressed. I wish I could have attended college. No parents, remember?" "That's right! You lived with an older brother or something during high school." "Older sister and brother-in-law, and oh, brother was he something. He made notes on every little thing my sister ever bought for me or did for me, telling me he expected me to pay it all back to them someday. I couldn't leave that madhouse and be on my own fast enough after I got out of high school. That jerk had me baby-sitting their two kids every evening and weekend so the two of them could go out partying. Don't get me wrong, I love their two kids like crazy, but I deserved to have some fun once in a while, too. You know? That's why I didn't attend any school dances or dated much, back then, and that's why I couldn't go to college. I had to work for a living. Some guys have all the luck." "Yeah, I always wondered why you never attended any high school social functions. Thought you were a recluse or nerd. Hey," Jake asked. "How you feeling about now?" "Woozy, man." "You should be flying, man. That thing in your arm is connected to a morphine pump. The nurse is giving you a hefty dose of it every eight minutes. I've been keeping track." "You have? Why?" "Morphine is highly addictive. The longer you're on it, the harder it will be to break off. You might have to go into detox." Just then a nurse stepped into the cubicle. "I heard that, young man. Detox applies to users, who take drugs for recreational purposes. We carefully wean all patients off of morphine as the need for pain control diminishes. Don't confuse medical pain control with recreational drug use, because you don't know what you're talking about." "Yes, ma'am," Jake replied, appearing chastised. Then he winked at me when she wasn't looking. "Your pal is going to radiology for X-rays now. If you're planning on waiting around the hospital for his return, you'll do it outside the ER in the lobby. He may not be back for hours, and may go straight up to a room. It's obvious he's not going home this evening." "Yes, ma'am," he repeated. "Hey Bernie, is there anyone you want me to notify about where you are or what happened?" "No, I just have to notify my landlord and employer. I can call them both up on Monday from my cell phone. If you want to do something for me, bring me another pair of pants from my apartment. They trashed mine when they brought me in." "I noticed," said Jake. "He won't be needing pants for a while," said the nurse. "Oh?" said I. "You had a nasty fall. If you didn't break at least one of your ankles, I'll be surprised." "That bad, eh?" "Nah, you'll be up and around on a walking cast in a few weeks. Maybe two casts." "Two weeks! How am I going to manage going to work or even to the bathroom?" "We'll set you on a chamber pot and leave you there all day. What do you think this is, the Middle Ages? We have huge defensive linebackers that can pick you up and carry you around like a sack of potatoes. Just be polite to them and don't give them a hard time, or you'll be sitting on a bed pan in your bed, and that is no fun, I guarantee." She smiled and looked at Jake. "What are you grinning about? You want to carry him to the throne six to ten times a day?" Jake didn't say a word. Someone from "transport" showed up and whisked me away on the gurney before I had a chance to say anything more to Jake. All he said to me was that he'd check on me in the morning. Now, why'd he want to do that? I hadn't seen the guy in five years, and now he's acting like we've been best buds, all along. It's not that I didn't want to see him when I got back from wherever they were taking me. We had a lot of catching up to do; five years worth. I just wanted to do it on my terms. As it was, I didn't have any choice in the matter. I would much rather be able to beg off in the event that he got too pushy. I don't particularly like pushy people. 2. I woke up in a hospital bed with casts on both of my ankles. Once the floor nurse saw that I was awake, she told me she would summon "my doctor." I didn't even know I had one, or "my" doctor's name, yet, but assumed I'd learn it shortly. Shortly was six hours later. In the meantime, my old high school chum that had called out to me at the DMV dropped by my hospital room to visit. He even brought me a box of chocolates. I appreciated his due concern and I let him accept full responsibility for my fall, just so he'd shut up about that. I was more interested in learning what he'd been doing during the past five years. He told me where he went to college, and that his parents bought a house in the suburbs during our senior year in high school. That explained his not being around, and why he fell out of touch, not me. I still lived in the same neighborhood where we grew up. We reminisced for the entire afternoon, up until the time the doctor arrived. Then, the nurse shagged him out. "Visiting time is suspended when a doctor makes his rounds." Dr. Anderson was a nice enough guy, mild mannered, unhurried, and about twice as old as me. He explained that I had suffered hairline fractures in both ankles, and would be released from the hospital to convalesce at home, after a few days of observation. Then, he wanted to see me in his office every two weeks for follow up. He said my fractures would likely mend sufficiently to have the casts removed in "four to six" weeks. "Four to six weeks!?" I inquired. "Holy cow, doc! My employer is going to fire me if I'm out of commission for that long." "What do you do for a living, son?" "I work for a mail order house. I update catalogs." "Nice cushy office work. You should be able to resume working in a few weeks, if the swelling in your bruised knee and hip resolve without complication. Fortunately for you, you didn't suffer fractures in either of those injury sites. A broken hip takes much longer to mend than an ankle, and often requires surgery to replace a damaged joint with a synthetic one. Nonetheless, I want you to stay off your feet until further notice." "I live in a third story walk-up apartment, Doctor. How am I supposed to make it up the stairs if I have to stay off my feet? Can't you give me walking casts?" "Those are walking casts. They have built in pads under the balls of your feet that you can't see from where you're sitting, and don't try to bend your right knee to look. You'll simply have to take my word for it. I still want to give your natural healing processes all the opportunity they can get without imposing risk of further injury." "The casts look a lot thinner than I thought they'd be." "Yes, and they're much lighter in weight than casts once were. They're now made of a fiberglass-coated padding instead of plaster. They work the same way. Their purpose is to hold the limbs immobile while fractures heal, lessening the chance of further injury. "I'll have you go for blood tests before you see me at your bi-weekly visits at my office to assure that your healing processes aren't compromised. Other than that, you should be able to resume normal activities in about three months. I'll still want to see you every few months afterward." "Three months? Why is that, if everything goes well?" "Well, I'm concerned about your bone density. You broke both ankles somewhat easily. Your blood tests indicate you have a vitamin deficiency that can possibly lead to serious complications later in life without proper medical care." "I know I had very weak bones back when I was a kid, but I thought I grew out of it." "You most likely did to a great degree, but now, your multiple fractures are an indication that the condition still persists. I won't bore you with technical terms, but the condition bears monitoring periodically, regularly." "Oh. Well, you probably know best. Maybe I should see a specialist." "I was assigned to be your primary physician because it is one of my specialties." "Oh, I thought you were a bone doctor, someone who sets broken bones." "No, I didn't set your bones, though I could have if it were necessary. You have simple fractures that should heal fairly rapidly, but I'm more concerned about your ability to not incur additional injuries, as you grow older. Right now, your circulation is fine and you will mend easily. As you grow older, if the condition deteriorates, it may not be the case. If you live alone, which your chart indicates that you do, you may want to arrange for someone qualified to check on you regularly, if not daily, and acquire a medical alert signal device in the event that you fall and injure yourself again." "Really! I didn't realize my frail bone condition is still that serious." "I feel it warrants monitoring and treatment to strengthen your skeletal structure, or you may suffer severe back pain someday." "Well, thanks for your input, Doctor Anderson. At least I now know my fractures weren't merely because I was clumsy." He left me with some literature to read and some further instructions on diet and exercise to improve my condition. Then, he said he'd see me again the following day. 3. After the doctor left, I browsed through the literature. I had a lot to think about. Before I could dwell on it, Jake returned. "I thought you went home." "No, I just went to grab some chow while the doctor was with you." I told Jake what the doctor had said about my weak bones and my not being able to walk. "Hey, you may recall that we moved out to a big house in Palos during our senior year in high school. You may or may not recall that my dad was a Viet Nam veteran. He lost both of his feet from serious complications after he stepped on some pungi spikes, and gangrene set in. They had to amputate. My three brothers and I are all well versed on how to care for someone who isn't very mobile." "Fine. In that case, I suppose I can depend on you to get me home, once the hospital releases me. I live in a third story walk up dormer apartment. I'm not able manage three flights of stairs in my condition. I'm supposed to stay off my feet until further notice." "No problem. Hay! You can be my houseguest for the duration. Our house has no steps in it anywhere, with five huge bedrooms and all the doors are extra wide to accommodate wheelchairs, because of my dad. My brothers and I helped my mom care for him until he passed away." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear of your loss." "Yeah, he died of cancer from exposure to agent orange. Nam messed up my dad pretty bad. The only thing good to come of it was that mom got a hefty settlement after going through nearly a twenty-year court battle with the government. Too bad dad didn't live long enough to enjoy the house they bought with most of the settlement money. She still gets a tidy widows pension. She's down in Florida caring for her aging parents with her sister right now, so I live alone. She comes up to visit me couple of times a year, to keep tabs on me and to make sure that I don't destroy the house. I guess." He laughed. "Yeah, it would make sense to make good use of some of the special features the house has again: handicap toilets, Jacuzzis in every bathtub, a hot tub in the Florida room off the back of the house and no stairs needed to get anywhere, except the basement. It even has chair lift to go down into the finished basement's entertainment center. Dad was gregarious and liked to have a lot of friends over to watch football and hockey. You'd never guess he was an invalid, the way he could get around on his prosthetics." "What about your brothers? What will they say about you having a houseguest?" "My two older brothers are married and long gone. My younger brother lives in Michigan together with --- a friend of his. They work together at a resort. I don't need their nod, if that's what you mean. I'll call up my mom to make sure it's okay with her if you'd like. I know she won't mind. She's glad I'm up here taking care of the place. She can't get half of what it's worth in today's market, and I need the place. I've got a great job, and it's close by, so the house's location is perfect. All it costs me is for the taxes and utilities." "Still, I shouldn't impose, not really." "Impose my foot! The place is huge and gloomy when there's no one else around. It will be a pleasure to have company for a few weeks, just 'till you get back on your feet, unless you'd like to stay longer." "Well, -- okay. I'll take you up on the offer. I really wouldn't normally, but I'm caught between a rock and hard place. There's no way I can negotiate three flights of stairs to get up to my place. Say, if you're willing, there's one other favor I'd like to ask of you." "Oh? What's that, runt?" I was surprised. He remembered my high school nickname. "My car. It's still in the parking lot at the DMV." I gave him my keys and a description of the car. The keys included a key to my apartment. "I don't need anything from there right now, except maybe some clean underwear, but as long as you're taking my car over there, I hope you don't mind." I then explained where I kept my tidy whites and t-shirts. "I'll take care of it first thing in the morning before I go to work. I won't be able to bring them to you until I visit you tomorrow evening. Got to work, you know. You might want to advise your landlord I'll be coming over, so he doesn't mistake me for an intruder." "I could just picture that old fart pointing his revolver at you for stealing my underwear!" We laughed so hard it hurt my bruised butt! "His name is Walt, in case you bump into him. Tell him that I'm fine and I expect to only be gone for a few weeks. He tends to be a worrywart. If I'm out late, the old geezer stops me the next day to ask if I got 'lucky'. If I lie to him and tell him that I did, he wants all the gory details. "Was she a good lay? Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera." "Looks like you're going to be laid up for a while. Ha, ha. There's no chance of you're getting lucky now. Is there?" "Not that it matters much. I never was any good at scoring with chicks, unlike you. As I recall, you had plenty of luck with the ladies back in high school." Having him call me 'runt' earlier made me realize he knew why I didn't have much luck dating girls back then. "I hope my accepting your hospitality won't put a damper on your reputation, Jake. I can become scarce, if you need me to be." "Are you kidding? Our house is so big, my brothers and I never had any problem staying out each other's way." "Well, that makes me feel a little better about my staying with you for a few weeks, if you really don't mind my accepting your offer, I mean." "Like I said, the house is quiet and empty feeling, now that mom spends most of her time down in Florida, my two older brothers are gone and the other is living in Michigan, like I said. The place won't seem so lonely for a change." "Having the whole place to yourself, don't tell me you don't have your girlfriend stay over occasionally." "I don't have a real steady right now. My last serious girlfriend was a disaster. She liked me only for the good times I could show her. I showered her with nice gifts and spent a veritable fortune on her, and she was two-timing me the whole time. She married some dude who could probably afford to do it better than me. I thank my lucky stars she chose him over me. Now, he's the one forking out his hard earned money to keep her in the manner she'd grown accustomed to." He laughed. "Glad to hear you're taking it so lightly. I'd have been fit to be tied." "I was, for a while. No sense crying over spilt milk. Now, I love 'em, and leave 'em." "No plans for marriage in the works?" "My mom is always hinting that I should settle down and find someone to warm my bed regular, cook my meals and darn my socks, but I'm not ready for that. Women all have a way of trying to own you; trying to control your every move. Know what I mean?" "Can't say I do, no experience. You know me. I don't impress women as a go-getting winner. They're probably right. I'm satisfied with keeping a modest roof over my head and some food in the pantry. You'll get a better idea of my lifestyle once you see the car I drive and the paltry digs I live in. Maybe if I was able to afford to go to college, like you did, then I could afford to think more aggressively. What is; is. What can I say?" We chatted for a little while longer, until the floor nurse finally shagged Jake's butt out by telling him visiting hours were over long ago, and I needed my rest. He assured me he'd take care of retrieving my beater from the DMV's parking lot and he'd bring me some fresh underwear the following evening. "Got to work tomorrow. I'll try to stop by during my lunch hour, but I won't get a chance to do the other stuff until after work," "Hey. What you're willing to do for me, as it is, is way more than anyone would expect, pal. No need to stop by to see me during your lunchtime. See you tomorrow evening!" "I don't mind. After all, it's my fault you're here." "Yeah, yeah. Please, just drop by tomorrow evening to let me know how it went over at the DMV, and bring me the stuff I asked you about." I didn't want to say 'underwear' with the nurse standing there, waiting for him to leave. 4. In the morning, I called my boss to tell him where I was and why I didn't show up for work. He didn't sound pleased when I told him what had happened. I told him he could reach me on my cell phone. I then called up my landlord to let him know. I'm sure he wondered why I didn't come home for two nights in a row. I told him not to expect me to show up for quite some time, as I'd be in rehab for a few weeks. The less he knew, the better. He asked which hospital I was in, but didn't ask which room, so I didn't offer. I didn't want the old goat to visit me anyway. Then, I thought about it. If he was to visit me, I could have had him drop off my clean underwear, instead of Jake. By the end of the day, the nurse weaned me off of the morphine pump, and Dr. Anderson stopped by during his rounds. He concurred with the nurse's initiative to discontinue the morphine drip, and prescribed something milder I could take orally. I was uncomfortable, but no longer in serious pain, just numb. Later on, I regretted it, as the pain in my injuries grew worse, due to the morphine being discontinued. Jake showed up late in the evening. "Your car wasn't at the DMV. I searched through the entire lot, and then inquired inside. It had already been towed to the city pound. They don't allow cars to remain overnight. Too many junk cars get abandoned there. No exceptions." "Great! I know the damn thing looks like junk, but it's all I can afford right now. Shit!" I was pissed. "By any chance, did you find out how much it is going to cost to retrieve it from the pound?" "Done! I took care of it. I didn't want to leave it at the pound any longer than absolutely necessary. I got your title from your flat, thanks to your nosey landlord. Cars get trashed or stripped of everything inside if they're left at the pound long. I had your keys and the insurance card from your wallet, so they let me have it towed out. I had it towed over to my house. It was cheaper than towing it to your flat. Besides, it'll be off the street and you'll have access to it sooner, that way. It looks fairly okay, but has a few brand new scratches and dents. Those guys at the pound move cars around with a big forklift truck, so there was no way I could check for significant damage to the undercarriage. They wouldn't let me check it out there. I'll have my mechanic check it out if you'd like. I figured you have enough stuff to worry about besides your car, right now." "Let it sit. I can't drive with these casts. I hope they didn't trash it too bad. It may not be worth fixing. Maybe you should have left it there, Jake. What did it cost you?" "I don't think so. Don't worry about it. It's in my garage, so it's not in anyone's way." "I have to worry about it, Jake. Where are you parking your car now?" "Don't worry! It's a four-car garage. I use one space. The lawn tractor and other junk occupy another space. Your car is parked in the third space where my mom usually parks when she's in town. She can park on the driveway in front of your car if she shows up for one of her visits. It's no big deal and doesn't cost anything, so stop worrying. Okay?" "I don't want to get to deeply indebted to you, Jake. I feel like a chump, as it is." "Don't be silly. We go way back, since grade school. I feel responsible for your fall and the pain I caused you. The least I can do is to try to make up for it somehow." "What will happen if your mom shows up unexpected and finds me staying with you, freeloading? I can't afford to pay you any rent, Jake, or I'd offer to! Maybe I should call up my health provider and ask if they cover the cost of my staying at a rehab." "You'll do no such thing. It's for a few weeks, a month at most. The house is paid for. All Mom expects of me is to cover the utilities, lawn and pool maintenance and the real estate taxes, so you aren't costing me anything. I assume you can manage to cover what you'll eat, so what's the big deal?" "Okay. Would you mind if I buy all the groceries and do the cooking, soon as I'm able? At least, that way I wouldn't feel like I'm freeloading." "Well, I've been eating carry-out, usually, or I dine out, but if you're willing to do the cooking, you got yourself a deal! I'm a terrible cook. You'd be back here in the hospital if I were to do the cooking!" 5. The days dragged by and Jake brought me a pack of new underwear the second evening he visited. They were colored men's bikini briefs without a fly that were easy to slip over my ankle casts, but I accepted them, not caring they weren't the kind I normally wore. Claimed he didn't want to confront my landlord again. Dr. Anderson released me two days later into Jakes care, satisfied that Jake was an experienced caregiver, after talking with him and from what Jake had told him about his late dad. Jake wheeled me out of the hospital using his dad's wheelchair and put me into a minivan with a handicap ramp built into it, after he helped me into a pair of pants he brought for me to wear with legs that snapped together, and a fresh shirt. I had the jacket at the hospital that I had on when I fell outside the DMV, so I only needed a clean shirt, which Jake had the foresight to bring with him when he arrived to fetch me. He had arranged to take time off from work that day to drive me from the hospital to his home. It was a lovely level ranch way out in the southwestern suburbs of Chicago overlooking a small pond on a sprawling spread in a neighborhood of sprawling spreads. Each one was what seemed like well over an acre in size, excluding the pond. The huge house was more than I had expected. It was spread out on one level, looking more like a motel than a single-family home. Everything was designed to accommodate someone in a wheelchair, no thresholds, except for one at the front entry door. The master bedroom had an en suite bathroom with a tub that had a door on it, and a seat inside, so someone could slide out of a wheelchair, and close the door to shower or bathe. I couldn't use it because of the casts still on my ankles, but, once those were removed, it would be a welcome convenience, if I stayed because I had to continue to stay off my feet. While I was in the hospital, the nurses regularly brought a pan of hot water, soap and a facecloth, so I could "freshen up." I was still wearing the first pair of bikini underwear Jake had brought me, and it felt sweaty after four days. Jake chose to billet me in a pale green bedroom next to the master bedroom. I didn't know why at the time, but found out later it was his younger brother's bedroom, and that his younger brother had spent his daytimes caring for his dad because he worked the dog shift back when his dad was still alive and Jake was away at college. Jake didn't explain what his younger brother did for a living, but I got the impression he was a cook, or a waiter, because Jake had mentioned to me that his brother was employed at a resort up in Michigan. From that bedroom, I had easy access to the adjoining master bedroom bathroom that had a convenient cutout by the sink to allow me to wash up while facing the mirror over the sink while seated in the wheelchair. The towels lying about looked used, so I asked Jake where fresh ones were. Before I could finish asking, he showed me a tall cabinet at the end of the vanity with towels and face cloths, and handed me a fresh one of each, then excused himself so I could clean up, which I did, using the facecloth to clean my grimy groin last. It didn't take me long to learn how to negotiate the confines of wheelchair by using my arms. In fact, it was fairly easy. Jake told me he had to get back to work, and said I had the "run of the house" and told me when I could expect him to return. He told me I'd find most anything I needed to cook in the kitchen, (hint, hint,) and that the phone numbers of the local food marts were listed on a corkboard over the kitchen phone station. I nodded. "Phone station?" I asked. "The house was built with phone outlets in the walls of every room. It was built before cell phones and portable phones for land lines were popular." After Jake left to return to work, I wheeled myself to the kitchen. It was still early in the afternoon, but I wanted to spend some time to familiarize myself with the layout of the kitchen, so I could surprise him with a decent home cooked meal. I felt it was the least I could do in return for his generosity. The pantry and refrigerator were both nearly empty, as I expected because of Jake's mentioning that he ate out a lot, so I took a quick inventory of what I would need to make Beef Wellington, and stovetop stuffing for dinner and put in a phone call to one of the listed grocers, indicating I wanted the order delivered that afternoon if at all possible. The woman on the other end of the line indicated that it was, and said she was familiar with the address from the phone number I had used, but she said didn't recognize my voice. I told her I was a houseguest, and was temporarily incapacitated, in explanation for my requesting a delivery of the order I placed. She again mentioned that she recognized the address, knew the family well and was pleased someone would be shopping with them again. From her comment, I gathered Jake didn't do much grocery shopping there. The groceries were delivered in plenty of time for me to prepare a nice dinner for Jake. One thing bothered me about the deliveryman, or I should say, young man. He seemed very disappointed when I answered the kitchen door to have him bring in the groceries. He asked me where Ronnie was. I explained that I was a temporary houseguest, so it wasn't proper for me to explain the whereabouts of members of the household to an outsider. He shrugged and left, without further ado. 6. I didn't have too much of a problem finding pots and pans, and had dinner ready for Jake when he arrived home that evening. He marveled at how good the meal smelled as soon as he entered the house, and we sat down to eat right away. I should have let him finish enjoying his dinner. Like the dumb ox I am, I passed him the serving bowl of stuffing and asked him, "Who's Ronnie, a past girlfriend?" He almost choked on a mouthful of the beef Wellington he was chewing. After wiping his chin with a napkin, he answered, "Ronnie is my kid brother. Who called and asked?" "No one. The young deliveryman from the grocer asked about him. By his approach, I thought he was referring to a girl. Seemed disappointed to find me here, instead. He was ready to greet me with open arms and a kiss, until he realized that I was not the person he expected to meet him at the door when he arrived. Oh, my!" "What's wrong!?" "Nothing, nothing at all." He looked at me peculiarly. "Yes there is. What is it? What did the delivery man say to you about Ronnie?" "He didn't say anything at all about him, but---" I didn't know how to phrase it. Jake said it for me. "But he acted sort of gay. Right?" "I didn't peg it that way at first, because the guy was talking funny, kind of sing-song." Like you'd talk if you were putting the make on a chick. Right?" "Well, sort of." "You might as well know up front. You'll find out sooner or later, anyway. My kid brother Ronnie, who you may or may not remember from high school, well, he's a gay cross dresser. He likes to get all dolled up in girl's clothes for his friends, most of whom are gay. I think he was born swishy. Mom and Dad had him see a bevy of counselors all through high school, to no avail. In fact, we all had to go for counseling, to come to turns with his confirmed gender dysphoria. The counselors said there was little hope for a cure. Ronnie thinks of himself as a woman. I want you to know, in case he shows up." "I see nothing wrong with how he feels or how he likes to dress, or how anyone dresses, for that matter, if a person feels it's right, or if that's how he feels about himself, Jake. Live and let live, as long as long as people are happy doing what they feel is right. Why should you or I feel we have a right to interfere with how others live their lives?" "Oh, he's happy alright, happy and gay. Please, let's not let Ronnie ruin your staying here to convalesce. Ronnie promised me he'd not come home while you're in the house." "Jake! What makes you feel you have to dictate something like that to your own brother? I remember him. He's sort of slight of build and somewhat quiet. I sure hope he won't mind my being here. He was two or three years behind us in high school. Wasn't he? I won't mind him being around. In fact, I'm sort of curious. I want you to call him up right now and tell him he can come home where he belongs if he wants. You had no right to try to exclude him from his own family home on my account." "Don't get me wrong. Ronnie's where he wants to be right now, working as a female impersonator. He's a drag queen, up at a gay resort in Michigan. He's quite good at it too, or so I've heard. I just asked him to lay low for a while, that's all." "I wonder what made that delivery man think I was Ronnie when he first saw me?" "You? I sort of wondered about that, too. Let me think. Well, first of all, you were in dad's wheelchair with your back to the door when he first arrived. Right?" "Yeah. I was at the kitchen table going through some recipes, planning what to make you for dinner for the balance of this week." "Your hair is the same color as Ronnie's, and you're wearing one of Ronnie's shirts." "Oh, is this his? I have one similar to it." "Does your shirt button up the wrong way, like that one? You know, I almost changed my mind about bringing that shirt for you to wear home from the hospital, but nothing of mine would fit you, and I wasn't paying attention to how it buttoned." "It's a blouse, not a shirt, and I noticed right away." "I didn't want to take the time go all the way back to your place again, just to pick out a shirt, and I thought I saw a shirt similar to that blouse at your place." I bust out laughing. "That explains the delivery man's mistake. How do you explain yours?" "What do you mean?" "If you knew it was a blouse, and not a shirt, did you want me to wear a woman's blouse, to test the waters? Did you think I wouldn't protest if I were gay?" "What? No way! It was an honest mistake. He was blushing. "I thought it was a shirt at first. I didn't notice that it buttoned the wrong way, until I saw you putting it on, and the buttons were on the wrong side. I should have checked it closer when I pulled it out of Ronnie's closet. He still has some male clothes, you know. I'll get you something else to wear, if you'd like." It sounded to me as if he was lying. "No, don't bother. I had no knowledge of what your brother chooses to wear at the time, but obviously, you know all about such things. If you don't mind, I happen to like the shirt or blouse or whatever it is, and I don't feel uncomfortable knowing now that it's a woman's or a girl's blouse. In fact, I already knew that women's blouses button on the opposite side It's what differentiates blouses from men's shirts. So, tell me. Do I look sexy in it?" "Don't get cute, I mean, silly, smart ass." "Oh, cute? You think I'm cute in this outfit? Maybe you'd prefer if I wear a bra under my blouse." I was teasing, and he knew it, and I had him blushing as red as a beet. "After all, I'm pretty good at cooking dinner. Am I not? Maybe you'd like me to dress like a woman to ---" "Enough! You think it was fun for me to grow up with a queer for a kid brother? He got a kick out of teasing me with feminine antics, constantly. He lorded it over me, knowing my folks tolerated his aberrant behavior because of the counseling we all had to attend. At one time, I thought I'd have died if any of our school chums discovered his penchant for wearing girls' clothing. When they did, no one seemed to care." Another lie. "People aren't as homophobic as they once were, Jake." I didn't want him to think I was. If he had looked closely at that "shirt" in my closet when he went to my apartment, he might have noticed that it too buttoned on the wrong side. A week or so went by with me cooking dinner for Jake and I to help pass the time One evening, I felt I had to break Jake out of his funk. It was getting to me. "Jake, I wore a lot of hand-me-downs when I lived with my sister and brother-in-law. Many of the clothes I still have were my sister's cast offs." "Girl's stuff? I don't get it. Why didn't you wear your brother-in-law's castoffs?" "My brother-in law is bigger than you are. That was one of the reasons I got out of there as soon as I could. My sister and I were the same size. I was wearing pullovers to hide the fact that I wore her old blouses. I never got around to throwing some of her nicer blouses out, because I had to be frugal ever since she took me in. Few people bothered enough to notice the difference. If some did, they didn't make a stink over it. I was paranoid about being 'outed' in high school as being a queer, but I never was. Now, it doesn't bother me, and it shouldn't bother you how your brother chooses to dress." He sighed. "Wow! That's a tremendous relief, Bernie. I thought you'd think I was too permissive if I didn't think my brother was a nutcase. I'm glad you feel as you do." "Did your kid brother leave behind any male clothes that might fit me?" "He might have, but I doubt if there's a huge selection. He's been wearing mostly girls' clothes as far back as I can recall. Do you want me to check through his closet again?" "No, not now. If I may, I'd like to see for myself, with your permission, once I get used to moving around in this wheelchair. Before I go messing up his closet, I'd prefer to have his permission, as well." "Are you kidding me? I'll bet he'd love to have another - oh, I didn't mean it that way." "That's alright. I didn't take it 'that way'. I happen to have a legitimate reason for being familiar with girls' jeans, too, wearing a sister's castoff clothing. My waistline is somewhat smaller than my butt. Men's pants simply don't fit well. They're cut wrong." "I wonder. How would you manage to get a pair of pants over your ankle casts?" "Around here, I can get away with wearing shorts. The leg openings are wide enough to fit over the casts. To go to the doctor, I'll simply wear these nifty snap-on pants you brought for me to wear to leave the hospital. They fit a little loose, but beggars can't be choosers. By the way, wherever did you find them?" "They were my dad's. They're new. Got them just before he passed on over a year ago. You can wear them, if you'd like. It was easier for Ronnie to dress him up in them in the mornings. "Ronnie did most of that stuff for dad, once I went off to college and my older brothers got married. Dad preferred to have Ronnie tend to him rather than leaning on Mom too much. She was busy enough with tending to her ailing parents." "Oh. Now that your dad is gone, how often does your mom come home?" "Mom hasn't come north in months, but she phones the house regularly to check up on me. Typical mother, she pushes me to find a woman and settle down.' "I wish I knew my mom. It must have been nice to have your mother to coddle you." "Speaking of my mom, she's due to call any day now to bug me to death about finding a wife. If she calls and I'm not here, tell her who you are and why I invited you over. Say, she may remember you from our high school days, in fact, I'm sure she will." "Why would she? After you moved away during our senior year, we kind of drifted." "True, but she once told me she liked you from the few times you visited our old place. She felt you were a good influence on Ronnie too, back then, because you didn't make fun of him. A few guys I hung around with gave Ronnie a hard time about his manner of dress and odd behavior, but you never did." "I didn't know he crossdressed." I didn't want to tell Jake that my reason for not berating Ronnie was the fact that I had to skimp on buying clothes and wore my sister's castoffs at times. I wondered if his mom ever noticed what I was wearing sometimes was originally my sister's stuff. "As I recall, your mom was very nice. She didn't seem pushy to me. You're not going to get into any trouble with her for having me stay over, are you?" "No, I doubt if she cares, except that -----" He didn't finish what he started to say. "Except what?" I inquired. "Oh, nothing. I was just musing." "About what? Come on. You can tell me. It might be something I should know, in the event she calls when I'm in the house alone and answer the phone. I'll need to advise my employer where I'm staying and need to answer the phone in case my boss calls here." "She expects me to keep an eye on Ronnie, so no one takes advantage of his peculiarity. Hell, he's a grown man and can take care of himself. He doesn't need me to protect him. Of course, that doesn't stop Mom from expecting me to report to her about his welfare and activities. I don't like her to treat me like his protector. I have my own life to lead" "Must be a drag. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean - that wasn't a slur, just a poor choice of words. Darn! Please, Jake. I wasn't trying to be funny. It just slipped out. Oh, jeez, there I go. I did it again." He was laughing. "You choose to slip into something from Ronnie's closet if you feel comfortable in Drag. Be my guest, sweetie." He exaggerated the words: slip and sweetie. "Ronnie left plenty of racy looking robes and sexy blouses for you to choose from. Come to think of it, it would be a lot easier for you to put on one of his skirts instead of a pair of men's shorts. After all, who's going to notice? There's no one to see you here but you and I, and I won't mind. I'm used to seeing Ronnie wearing that femmy stuff around the house, with makeup on and everything." "You'd like that, now, wouldn't you?" I chided. "What if your mom showed up and saw me wearing a skirt and some makeup, or one of your other two brothers?" "Mom might think I'm finally entertaining a young lady as a houseguest. She'd like that idea. When she calls, she constantly makes hints about my being too lonely, all alone by myself in the big house, without a woman around to keep my bed warm and that sort of thing. My guess is that she'd encourage my having a girlfriend move in with me." He left that comment hang in the air, expecting me to come back with another one- liner. I almost did, but then, I thought better of it. I wondered how she'd feel about a guy moving in with Jake. I silently let it be. 7. After a while, I started to clear the dinner table and Jake went down to the entertainment center on the lower level to watch some TV, "the evening news" or so he said. He told me I could catch the evening news or watch anything I'd like on the TV set in my new bedroom, which I did. While I flipped through channels, using the remote control, I accidentally discovered a guy getting a blowjob on one of the six AV channels. By turning the volume on the set way down low, I could barely hear grunts and groans coming from the stairwell leading to the lower level that matched the activity on the screen on my set. Evidently, Jake was viewing the same porn flick down in the basement; perhaps assuming I wouldn't discover what he was doing. It had been a long time since I had last jacked off, so it didn't take me long to reach down and unsnap my pull-apart pants, pull out my hardening cock and play with myself. My head almost snapped off at the neck when I heard Jake say, "You can come down to watch that flick, large as life on the big screen TV with me, if you'd like." I hid my cock and recovered, red faced. "How? Are you going to carry me downstairs?" "Dad had a nifty elevator chair built into the staircase to the basement for him to use. You can use it to join me downstairs." Jake had caught me "red-handed" so to speak. "I - I" "Hey, there's two kind of guys in the world: those who do it, and those who lie about it. I'm one who admits to doing it occasionally. Our little talk earlier got me feeling horny. How about you?" "I -I" "Oh, come on. We're both adults. All guys do it. Why not admit it?" "Sorry, I don't normally do that sort of thing in front of someone else." "Hey! We're old friends, Bernie. You don't have to be shy around me. I'm used to having company around when I'm getting off, to compare notes. You know?" "I--I." He came up close behind me and put his two big, strong hands on top of my shoulders, rubbing them gently. "You know, you do look cute in that blouse, Bernie. You look as cute as my brother Ronnie." "You've got me all wrong, Jake. I'm not gay, I--" "Neither am I," he interrupted. "Haven't you ever attended a circle jerk?" "A - a circle jerk? What's that?" "It's what happens when a bunch of guys get together to watch porn. They sit in a circle and jerk each other off." His hands reached down the front of the blouse and he touched my nipples lightly. I tensed in shock and almost swooned in pleasure. "Want a little help from me with that boner of yours?" "No - no, Jake. Don't! I've never. You've got me in a tough spot here. Stop doing that to me," I whispered. I didn't stop him though. The palms of his hands covered my nipples and applied mild pressure, running his palms in circles over them. If felt too good for me to push him away. "Please. Please stop." I was pleading, but he was ignoring my pleas. My hand was still over the undone fly of the snap pants, hiding my hard cock "You love being teased, I can tell by the way that cock of yours is pointing. I know just what you need: a strong man to guide you. I'll bet you're still a virgin. Aren't you?" "Jake! Stop! This has gone too far." He ignored me, and took my wrist in his strong hand, moving it off of my cock, only to replace it with his own. His other hand was up on my chest undoing the buttons of my blouse, and then busily tweaking my right nipple with his arm wrapped around my neck. It felt too good to stop him. He was feeling me up and stroking my cock and I loved the way it felt to be manhandled by him while sitting helplessly in the wheelchair. How did he know how I'd react? How did he know I wouldn't punch him out? I wouldn't dare. He could easily make mincemeat out of me without half trying if he wanted. "Jake! Stop! You have to stop! This isn't right! This isn't ---" I stopped talking when his head crossed my bare chest and reached my left nipple. He didn't hesitate for a moment, and began to suck on my right nipple. Damn, that felt nice. I don't know why I did it, but I relaxed, slumped in the chair and let him play, wondering how I could get him to stop. After a bit, I didn't want him to stop, as I was getting almost to the point of release. If he didn't stop, I'd soon be ejaculating over his pumping hand, hoping that would curb his persistent onslaught. When his teeth grazed my nipple and latched onto to it, it happened. I came all over his hand, pull-apart pants and Ronnie's clean blouse. I was mortified. "There! You jerk! I made a mess! Satisfied now?" "Not quite!" Jake tore the blouse and pull-apart pants off my body and went to the closet. He returned right away with a short, sheer, feminine baby doll. He pulled my slumped body forward and slid it over my naked back, wrestling my limp arms into the puffy sleeves. I was too shocked and zoned out. Considering his bulk and fearful of his strength, as far as I was concerned, Jake could do what he wanted to me at that point. I hadn't the ability to resist. "There! Now, that's more like it! Now I'm satisfied." I was in a fix. This nutcase was going to use me like some sort of sick love doll. Why did I ever agree to stay at his house to recuperate? He had my car keys, my clothes, my I.D., everything. I already had advised my employer I was staying here, and I couldn't manage the three flights of stairs back at my apartment. What was I to do? "Oh, one more thing!" He left. He returned in less than a minute carrying a hairbrush and something hidden in his hand. He combed my longish hair for me and then put his thumb onto my lower lip, forcing my mouth open. "There! Now, here's something that will put you more in the mood." He put a small pill underneath my tongue and held my mouth closed. I tried to turn away my head and spit it out, but his grip on my chin was insistent, so I stopped fighting him. As the pill dissolved, he put a thick coating of lipstick on me. He then picked me up easily as if I were a rag doll and placed me onto the center of the bed, turning me face down, carefully stretching my legs out below, extending over the end of the bed. As I lie there, he got up onto the bed in front of me, sitting with his legs out to the sides, with the pillows propped up behind him, with his erect cock poking me in the face. "Now, Bernie, I got you off. It's your turn to get me off." "I can't. I won't." "Oh, I think you will. You were willing enough to have me bring you off. Weren't you? What's the big deal? Just put your dainty little hands around it and stroke it a few times. That's all I ask. That's what good buddies are for, after all, to help each other out." I was afraid he wanted me to suck him off, something I wouldn't even consider doing. As long as I was trapped, I decided to do as he asked. What the heck! He'd done it to me. I tentatively put my felt thumb and forefinger on his thick cock and gave it a few strokes. That wasn't so bad. "Oh, you're a lefty, I see. So is Ronnie. I guess you two have a lot in common." As I continued to gently stroke his cock, gradually gaining enthusiasm to get him off quicker, he put his hand behind my head and pulled it forward. I was beginning to feel woozy, probably from whatever was in the pill he had put under my tongue. "Go ahead. You may kiss the head of it, if you'd like. Paint it with your lovely, deep red lipstick, babe. No one will ever know you did it, but you and I. Purse your sweet lips into a big 'O' and give my throbbing cock a nice, friendly smooch. You watched the guy in the video getting his tube washed earlier. Don't you want to know how it feels to have a nice big cock filling your mouth? Go ahead. Do it! Do it now, or else!" I don't know what possessed me. I parted my lips, covered my teeth and let the head of his cock brush up against my open lips. His hand on the back of my head urged it forward a little at a time, causing his cock to slowly enter my mouth each time he lifted his hips slightly. Strangely, the sky didn't open up and lightening didn't strike us dead. Soon, his pace was quickening, and his strokes were deepening, aided by the hand firmly held on the back my head, which kept my mouth plunging further and further. What was the use? He had me where he wanted me, so I resolved to let him do whatever he wanted. He took his sweet time, repeatedly telling me how good I was at 'giving him head'. "Oh, yeah. Suck that cock. Suck it! Yes, like that, nice and slow! Oh, you're a living doll, sweet lips. I can't believe how good it feels to have you blow me! I know I'm big, but see if you can take it all." He pushed forward on the back of my head and I braced myself as his cock slid further in, causing my gag reflex to kick in. He backed off at that moment and allowed me to catch my breath. "Take a deep breath and let it escape slowly around the head of my nice big cock as you take it in further." I did as he demanded and it took the edge off my gag reflex. I could tolerate the persistent penetration by exhaling slowly. It felt weird having a warm, flesh cock filling my mouth. It was a surprise to me to learn that the taste wasn't unpleasant at all, not in the least. As long as he was enjoying himself, I mused, why shouldn't I help him? I began to respond to his directives more willingly than I had been. It wasn't too bad. In fact, it didn't feel to me bad at all. His juices reminded me of cinnamon. He was behaving less demeaning toward me as well, stoking my hair tenderly with his two hands with his thumbs on my temples, while his cock plunged repeatedly into my throat. I could feel my own cock responding to the extremely intimate scene, with me dressed as a girl bobbing up and down on a cock. I WAS SUCKING COCK, DAMN IT! I didn't know it would feel like this: to have someone want me, want me so desperately to force me into engaging in a deviant intimate sex act. "Oh, yeah, baby! Do it! I knew you'd like doing it, once you gave it a try. Suck my cock! Suck it harder, babe. Make me cum! Make me cum, now!" My head was swimming. I was deliriously in outer space. I wanted to. I wanted to make Jake cum. I wanted to know how it felt to have Jake's cock pulse inside my mouth, and releasing its reproductive nectar. I wanted to taste it, to taste his essence, his progeny. With my heart pumping in my chest, I reached down and took his testicles into my hand to feel if they pulsed along with his cock when he shot his load into my mouth. It began! His cock started to twitch inside my throat! I backed off, wanting to know how sperm tasted. I didn't want his jism to slip down my throat without my learning what it tasted like. One spurt, two, three, and then a pause, oh he spewed a lot of it! Four, five, finally, he plunged forward and he spurted the last spasm right down my throat. My cheeks were bulging with his sperm and I couldn't swallow with his cock stuffing my throat. As he backed off, I licked around his cock, savoring the slightly creamy texture and salty taste. Tapioca came to my mind, but not that sweet. I gulped most the thickness down, but kept sucking on Jake's cock until it began to wilt, trying to find out if the taste would change as he ran out of steam. Finally, I let his soft cock fall from my mouth. "Wow! That was unbelievable, Bernie. You really got into it! I'm pleasantly surprised!" I didn't answer. My mouth and neck were sore, and my head was swimming. I wondered what was in that pill he had forced into my mouth. "I can hardly wait to recover so you can give me an encore performance, babe." I turned my back to him, too tired to fight with him. "Not in your wildest dreams, pal." 8. When I woke up it was light outside. He was still there in bed with me. I felt used and abused. Still I needed his help to get back into the wheelchair, so I could use the bathroom. I tuned toward him and poked him in the back. "Wake up, you shit head." "Huh?" he responded. "What was in that pill you forced me to take?" "Just V and C, nothing dangerous or addictive, what the doctor prescribed for your pain." "How come it affected my head so much?" "Your head? Oh, that. Don't know. You already had taken one right after we had dinner. I saw you take it for your pain. A second pill in quick succession must do that sometimes. Your head, what do you mean?" "I felt like I was spaced out, not in control of my faculties." "You really got into the role. Hmm. I'll keep that in mind - next time." "There isn't going to be any 'next time' buster. What do you think I am? Queer?" He didn't answer directly. "You are what you are. I don't put labels onto people anymore. That much I learned from my kid brother's penchant for dressing up like a girl. You may not know it, but I had a big 'thing' for you back in high school. I never felt like that about any guy, or any girl, for that matter. Not before, nor since." He took my hand into both of his and leaned forward toward me on the bed, face-to-face, real close. "Look, Bernie, for what it's worth, I'm sorry that I had to force you, but I had to find out for sure if what I feel inside is real. I think it is. Call it whatever you like. Gay, queer, weird, I don't know. Somehow, you really turn me on, and I don't know why." "Bull! All you wanted was to get your rocks off at my expense, probably because I made some smart-ass remark about your kid brother way back when." "No, it isn't that. Look! I consider myself straight when it comes to my sexual preference. I like women, not men. Except towards you, I have no gay inclinations whatsoever." "That doesn't explain a thing. Why did you attack me? I'm a guy, and, by the way, I'm straight, too, in case you're wondering." "That's what I mean. If you were a flaming faggot, I'd want nothing to do with you. To me, you're completely different. There's something about you. You seem to be in a class all by yourself. I can explain it, if you'll let me, but you have to give me some time." "Okay, but first help me into the wheelchair. I have to pee. You can explain afterwards." After I finished washing off the makeup in the bathroom, I wheeled back to the bedroom. "Go ahead; let's talk, but keep your distance. I don't want you touching me, except when it's necessary. I'll be out of here as soon as I get dressed and call a cab to come get me." "Okay, I promise to not touch you again without your permission." He sat back and tried to compose himself. "Can I show you something?" "Sure, as long as you keep your distance." He stood up. While I was in the bathroom, he had put on a pair of pants a t-shirt and a pair of slippers. At least he was decent. "You'll notice that I have a very pronounced goiter." He stroked his bulging neck. "You don't have one. Go ahead. Feel your neck." He was right. I didn't have a protruding goiter. I knew that. "So, what about it." "See! I told you. You don't have one. What you do have though, is a slight swelling at one side of your neck, up in front. Now, I'm not a doctor, but I suspect that swelling on the side of your neck indicates you have thyroid deficiency. Ask your doctor about it." "I already know all about it. It's why I'm short and skinny. You even used to call me a 'runt' back in high school, as you may recall. What does that have to do with your raping my mouth last night, you pervert!" "Hey, chill out. Will you? I'll get around to that. Well, I'll try, anyway. The thing is, --- this isn't exactly easy for me to explain." "Yeah, you're not doing too good of a job, if you ask me. Just blurt it out. I'm waiting." "Okay. Living with Ronnie was a bitch back when the two of us were in high school. He was always prancing around, making lewd gestures, like he wanted to suck me off. How could I let him do that? He was my kid brother! My folks would have killed me." "He still is your brother. You act like he's dead. What's that got to do with me?" "You two look a lot alike, blond, blue eyed, slight of build and you both have a sexy sway when you walk. You both look and act too much like a girl." "I think your imagination is working overtime. I don't sway when I walk. Get me another pair of snap pants. This nightie I'm wearing is distorting your brain waves." "Nonetheless, you talk like Ronnie, look like Ronnie and you make the same feminine gestures he does. You can't imagine how much you remind me of him. Succumbing to his sexual advances would have been incest. Instead, I used to use a feminine image of you to distract my plight. In plain English, I had the 'hots' for you back in high school." "You've lost your marbles. I don't make any feminine gestures." "You don't realize you're doing it. I can't tell you how many wet dreams that I've had thinking of you becoming a sexy woman, by your dressing like Ronnie does. When I saw you last night pulling your pud, wearing a silky blouse, watching some guy in a video getting great head from a cross dresser, it sent me over the top. I had to see you in drag." "Was that a cross dresser in that video?" "Yeah. Didn't you know?" "No, I couldn't tell. She looked genuine to me." How was that possible? The only guys I ever saw in drag were obviously guys. He got down on his knees and begged me for forgiveness. "I know I don't deserve your friendship, but I swear to you I'll never molest you again in any way if you'll only stay here for a while. I owe you that much. I really messed things up, and I know it. I should have left well enough alone instead of forcing you into doing --- it against your will." "What? Do you think I'd have ever done anything like that willingly?" "I don't know what I was thinking. I was so excited, I wasn't thinking clearly. All I know is that you weren't being very uncooperative, so I slowly tried to push the envelope just a little bit more as things progressed. I wasn't thinking of the aftermath, I'm sorry to say." What a dufus! "What am I supposed to do, now? How can I ever trust you again?" "I know! I know! It was stupid of me. I don't care what it takes. I want to make it up to you. Please! Tell me that you'll stay. You won't have to do any more cooking for me, or anything. I'll bring dinner in for you every night, or take you out to dinner, if you prefer." "Now hold on. Going out to dinner with you in the evening sounds too kinky, like we're dating or something. I don't want to give you any ideas. Tell you what. I'll continue to cook dinner for you and stay here at the house, because I enjoy cooking for someone, and didn't get much of a chance to do it after I stopped living with my sister and her family. Cooking for one person isn't much fun. You do the laundry, and continue doing all the housekeeping. I can't get around too well with these casts on my ankles. So I can't go back to my flat until I'm back on my feet again. Deal?" "I'll do anything you say." "Anything?" I asked. "Anything! I swear it." Hmm. That got me to thinking. Turnabout is fair play. Now that he took my oral cherry, I wondered how Jake would feel about reciprocating. I was still a French passive virgin. "Okay, Jake. Maybe I'll stick around for a while, --- under one condition." "Name it!" "You have me in a somewhat defenseless position." Oh? How's that?" "You forced me to suck you off, you jerk, and can legitimately claim that at some point during my doing that; while I was blowing you, I became an enthusiastic participant, a willing cocksucker, if you want to use that term. I don't know why I did it, but I was. I have to admit that I was very cooperative, too cooperative. I don't know what came over me. I'd die if any guys we both know found out. "Now, to feel comfortably assured that you won't have cause to divulge what I did for you to anyone, I must insist that you to do the same thing for me that I had to do for you." "But, but, how can I possibly do that? I'm a guy, an alpha male. I had to force you to go down on me. There's no way you can force me to do something like that. I'm much too big for you to handle on your own. You'd need at least four more guys like you to get me to do your bidding. Do you want four other guys to know what you have in mind?" "Absolutely not! Well, those are my terms. You figure it out. You want me to stay; you take my cherry, using your mouth, just like I did." "Oh, that! That's even sicker! I thought you wanted a blowjob." "Are we on the same wavelength Jake? Of course what I want is a blowjob." "Oh. That's easy to arrange. I'll just give Ronnie a call. I'm sure he'll be glad to drive into town to oblige you. If he isn't sexy enough for you, maybe his gay lover will be." "What in hell are you talking about Jake? I want a blowjob from you, stupid, not your kid brother or his gay lover. You forced me to blow you, so I'm forcing you to suck my cock in return, so you can't brag about what I did for you. That's the deal. You got it now?" "That's too weird, man. I can't get into doing something like that. It won't be the same. The only reason I had you to blow me last night is that I thought you looked real sweet with lipstick on, wearing a sexy outfit. I'll look a fright in one of Ronnie's nighties." "That might be the case, but that's the deal. Take it or leave it. You don't even have to wear lipstick or dress up like a broad, just do the deed, and we'll call it even." He thought about it, shaking his head several times, pacing the floor, back and forth. "If you'll give me some time, I'm bound to figure something manageable out. Will you agree to stay one more night, until I do?" "You have until sundown. After that, I'm out of here, unless---" "That's not fair! I need to think this thing through. There's got to be a viable solution." "You're the college grad, whiz kid. Think of something." Rubbing in my misfortune for being unable to attend college felt delicious. How I wished I could have gone. He'd never know it. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how jealous I was of him. Late in the afternoon, while I was preparing two salads for dinner Jake came running into the kitchen. "I got it! I got it! This is precious. I figured it out. You have to listen to this." "Go ahead, I'm listening." "I couldn't go down on another guy in a million years, a jillion years, but if you dress up in a sexy negligee for me again, I could envision you being a woman with an extra large clit, a super clit. That way, I might not cough up my cookies while I'm going down on you. Anyway, I want to give it a try. Are you game for it?" "Let me think about it. I'll give you my answer after dinner." I could have given it to him right then and there, but I wanted him to squirm for a little while longer. To finally get my rocks off with someone else's help, I was willing to try anything. I was fed up with still being a virgin at my age. If it had to be with anther guy, with my putting on a little war paint and primping up? So what! What's it going to cost me? Nothing! That's what. I'd do nothing permanent or long lasting to my looks, just a little bit of naughty Betty. After we had dinner together, I gave Jake my answer. I agreed to cross dress for him, to help him to get into the mood to blow me. He smiled like a Cheshire cat. "I knew you would! I just knew it! Thanks Bernie!" I almost regretted my decision right then, because of his enthusiasm. Was I missing something? "Don't expect too much of me, Jake. I'm not used to getting dolled up in women's stuff." "Well, no matter. I expect as much. Do we have a deal, though?" "Sure. Why not?" I had already agreed. It wasn't like I wasn't familiar with the clothing. "Shake on it?" "Sure." We shook hands. He was sounding too happy about my accepting his plan. "Scout's honor? You won't back out on me. Will you?" "Why do I have this feeling that I've just been had, Jake?" "Beats me. Look, I have to get cutting, Bernie. I have a long drive ahead of me tonight. Sorry I forgot to mention it to you earlier. Can you manage doing the dinner dishes one more time? Oh, one more thing. Can you sleep in my bedroom tonight?" "I guess so. Why?" "I'm driving up to Michigan tonight to pick up Ronnie after work. He's coming in for a short visit starting tomorrow morning. I told him all about you and he wants to meet you. I don't want him to know you were sleeping in his bed. It's only for a few days. He's due back to work by next Wednesday." "Where am I supposed to sleep, in your bed--- with you? What about my clothes?" "The other two bedrooms are just as comfortable. It's not like you have to sleep on a daybed or anything. However, those two rooms have been closed up for a while and may need an airing and dusting, so, you can sleep in my room tonight, until we clean up one of the other rooms. We'll sort it out together when I get back from Michigan." "Anything else I should know about?" --- What was that 'we' shit he was talking about? He's supposed to take care of the housekeeping chores from now on, not me, or "we'. If he thought I was going to do him again, he had another thought coming. "No, not that I can think of. Oh, call the grocer. It's still early. Have them send out some bacon, breakfast sausage, and a dozen eggs or so, for tomorrow morning, to be here no later than eight, unless they prefer to deliver it tonight. Ronnie's a veggie freak, so a big spinach and tomato omelet sounds great for his breakfast. Think of something creative to whip up for lunch tomorrow, as well, and have the grocer deliver whatever you'll need and charge it to our account." Harrumph! --- What about tomorrow night's dinner?" "Don't worry about it. We'll go out to eat or have a pizza delivered." "Yes, sire," I mumbled, still sitting in my wheelchair, but he was out the door and in his car already, so I know he didn't hear me. He didn't answer me about the clothes, so I went to his brother's room, hoping to find something a little masculine to wear. I was still wearing the panties (panties?) from the night before under my wrinkled snap- pants. Somehow, I didn't mind the bikini panties. 9. I phoned the grocer, as Jake had instructed, placed the order and asked for the delivery to be made that evening. I didn't want to get up any earlier in the morning than I had to. While I had the grocer on the phone, I told her I'd give the deliveryman an extra large tip if he came over as soon as possible. I wanted to turn in early to look my best for Jake's brother Ronnie and his gay lover. I had a sinking feeling develop deep inside that Ronnie was going to pose a major problem for my staying with Jake while I recuperate. I didn't know why, but I knew. Somehow, I knew After the deliveryman dropped off the groceries, he addressed me with a snippy attitude when he asked me where he should place the groceries. He was cruising to get his tip cut in half with his lack of courtesy. "Look, maybe I'm not who you were expecting to see the last time you delivered a load of groceries here, but I'm the guy who is about to tip you a little extra for rapid response, so I think you owe me a little bit of respect, pal." "Stick your extra tip up your ass, pal. I have to share it with the order picker." "Oh, I didn't know that. How is he to know how big a tip I'm giving you?" "He is a she, not a he, not that you'd know the difference. It might be confusing around here but where I work, we all have to dress appropriately. Know what I mean? If you like to wear aprons and blouses all the time, that's your business. You're a cook. I happen to not like wearing an apron all day. It's humiliating, but customary, so I have to wear one." "Oh, is that the problem? Tough luck, buddy. Around here, we dress however we like." "Yeah, I noticed, and don't call me buddy. We're not pals, either." He slammed the door on his way out, leaving the tip behind on the kitchen counter. I immediately called the grocer to tell them of the guy's total lack of courtesy, only to find out the guy was the owner's son. I was promptly told to take my business elsewhere if I was dissatisfied with their service. Oops! In response to that, I told the woman that I would, and hung up. I had enough disasters for one day and rolled my way into Jake's bedroom, got undressed and turned on the TV. After channel hopping for a while, lo and behold I found a dirty movie playing on one of the cable channels featuring porn. With a bit of imagination, the girl performing in the movie looked to me like a guy in drag. You couldn't call what she was doing: acting. She was performing a sex act, pure and simple. A guy was pounding her bush, and I could tell it was faked, because I never saw either person's genitals. For all I knew, they could have both been guys, actors performing in their respective roles. I fell asleep with the TV on. 10. "Well, well, lookie, lookie, lookie! What do we have here? Rise and shine sweetheart!" Shit! Who could that be, as if I didn't know and couldn't guess. "What time is it?" "Time for you to get up and cook us up some breakfast, darling. I'm Ronnie, by the way, Jake's sister." I knew better. "Pleased to meet you ma'am." "Come on, come on. Get up! Let's have a good look at you." She looked me over like a housewife looking over a piece of meat at the deli counter. "Oh, yes, I see there's lot's of potential here. Ew! Peach fuzz. You have a great future ahead of you with my brother Jake, if that's what you want. When is the last time you shaved?" "I have no plans involving Jake. I don't know what your brother told you about me, but I just want from him what he took from me. I think I have a right to that much." "How much did he take you for? Is he holding you here against your will to keep you from going to the police? Did he do that to you?" She pointed to the casts on my ankles. "No, no. It's nothing like that. We're old friends from high school. What did he tell you?" "He told me he has a houseguest, someone he admires deeply and with whom he wants to initiate a long-term relationship. He must like you a lot, honey. He drove all through the night to bring me back here to help you get spruced up for him. I understand that you're a neophyte. If so, I must say: You have excellent raw material to work with." "Don't go overboard. All I need is some cosmetics applied and my hair fixed up. A wig will work fine, if you have one I can borrow." "You cruising for a bruising? I know my brother Jake better than you, even if you were friends in high school. Wait a minute! I think I do remember you. If I don't doll you up, and I mean doll you up fine, he's going to be pissed off at both of us, and I don't want to be around when he sees you if he's not satisfied with what I accomplish. Neither do you. Trust me on that. I see that you fell asleep in your wheelchair last night. That's not a good idea. You need to keep your feet elevated while they're in casts, to promote circulation. The better the circulation you have, the faster your bones will mend." "Are you a nurse?" "Not a registered nurse, I'm a licensed P.N. I attended junior college here in the suburbs, after graduating high school, while Jake was still away at college. It helped me to care for our dad, and it's a time- honored profession for women, more so than for men. When you handle bedpans and wipe their butts, they don't ask you what you're packing inside of your panties. All they want is someone nice and gentle to tend to their needs." She wheeled me to the bathroom, and helped me up out of the chair and onto the toilet, even though I was capable of transferring to the toilet on my own. "Yeah, I notice that you are much gentler handling me than Jake." "That rube? He's like a bull in a China shop." She was going through the drawers of the vanity, looking for something. "When's the last time you shaved -- your beard, sweetie?" "My name is Bernie, honey!" I stressed the word: honey. "It was two weeks ago before I went to the DMV to renew my license. I don't normally have to shave every day." "I'll say. You lucky dog." She examined my face and neck while I was still on the throne. "Do you mind? It's not like we're good friends. I'd like a little privacy." "Ew! Testy! Suit yourself, but I'm here to help. In case you're interested, I remember you from the old neighborhood. You haven't changed much since then." "Well, you certainly have. Don't take this wrong, but I live alone. I'm not used to having someone in a dress watch me while I'm doing my business." "For what it's worth, keep in mind that I'm still packing the same three-piece set you are under all this glitz." I chuckled. "You have a lot more than that packed into that outfit from what I can see." "These?" She held up her boobs with both hands, quite the handful. "They're the genuine article, sweetie. Took me years on hormones to grow them. Do you like them?" "I must admit; they're very impressive. Doesn't it bother you when guys stare at them?" She smiled. "Not at all. That's why I have them. We girls know we're sex objects in the eyes of men. We get used to being ogled. In my case, it gives me a thrill. Look, I'm going to the kitchen to check how breakfast is coming along. Max is cooking it. Wash up, but don't shave. Well, leastwise, don't shave your beard." "Why not?" "I'll tell you at the salon. I made an appointment with my hairdresser for you in an hour, so we don't have a lot of time for breakfast. I'll fetch you something comfortable to wear while you wash up. No time for you to take a shower, if you want some breakfast." "Whoa! Where's Jake? I want to talk to him. I need to know what's going on. What's the salon appointment for? Why are you in charge, all of a sudden?" "Didn't Jake tell you? I'm here to get you all dolled up for your hot date with him. That's all he talked about on the way here from Michigan. Bernie this and Bernie that, you have his motor running, so you better play this smart if you don't want both of your kneecaps relocated. Oh, that's right. I forgot. Jake didn't break your ankles. You fell. Nonetheless, he can be real reckless if he gets hot under the collar. Then again, he's a real Teddy Bear if you play him right, a cuddly Teddy Bear. You have ten minutes to wash up. Come on girl. Time's a wasting!" She was gone as quickly as she appeared. She was absolutely gorgeous. Those boobs! How could that be a guy, I wondered. She exuded sexy from every pore, and she was going to fix me up for a date with her brother, his brother. Oh, what's the use! I can't believe that was the same skinny kid I knew back when we were all young and innocent. As I was wiping my face in a Turkish towel, she returned with a fresh pair of snap-up pants and a polo shirt. "It's brisk out today. Do you have a jacket with you?" I told her where I had left it. She wheeled me right into the kitchen and introduced me to Maxine, her significant other. She was another gorgeous knockout, or was it a he? "We're on a tight tether. Just juice and toast for me Max." She gave her a brief kiss "Sure thing, sweetheart." The voice. It was definitely male. "Hi, my name is Maxine!" She reached out to shake my hand. When she spoke to me, she sounded sexy, feminine. "I'm pleased to meet you." I was, too. She was real eye candy. She had me confused. "Likewise. What would you like for breakfast?" "Seems we don't have much time for that. I'll have raisin toast and coffee, if you don't mind. I have a nervous stomach this morning, but I feel great, totally refreshed!" "I can't imagine why! Is this your first trip to a beauty parlor?" "Yes." The thought of where we were headed had my mind reeling and my stomach churning. "Where is Jake? I want to have a few words with him before we go." Jake's brother Ronnie replied, "I sent him off on a few errands this morning. Don't worry about Jake. He'll only be in the way, Bernie, you're in good hands with Max and me." I raised my eyebrow and took a sip of strong coffee. The girl Maxine may have looked dainty, but the coffee she made was high test! "Good coffee. Thanks, Maxine." I turned my attention to Ronnie. "What can I expect at the salon today, Ronnie. May I address you as Ronnie?" For some reason, I was anticipating my appointment at a women's salon. "That's my name, honey. By the way, I love your name. Is it short for Bernard, like mine was once short for Ronald, or ---?" "I Just use Bernie. I was named after my mother. Her name was Bernadette, but everyone called her Bernie. My birth certificate reads Bernard, but regardless of what it says on my birth certificate, everything else has Bernie on it. My sister hated 'Bernard.'" "Your sister?" "I was raised by my sister. It's along story." "Sorry. We don't have time for that right now. We have to hustle." With that, Ronnie hustled my butt out to the minivan in the garage, and we were off to the hairdresser with Maxine acting as navigator while Ronnie drove. It was a short drive, and the two girls talked among themselves as if I wasn't even there, deciding what kind of hairdo I was going to get, who would be working at the salon, and other trivia that didn't interest me. I looked out the window of the minivan, hoping to get my bearings in the event I would be driving again in the not to distant future. I had seen my clunker sitting in the garage before we left the house. It looked in need of some major body repair, much like me. 11. We pulled into an alley behind the beauty salon. According to Ronnie, the salon's front door wouldn't accommodate my wheelchair. They wheeled me through the back door into the salon's storeroom, behind closed curtains. They were greeted by the proprietor who talked in whispers to Ronnie and Maxine, looking over her shoulder at me sitting in my wheelchair. She nodded several times and dismissed the two of them with a smile. "So, I understand this is your first visit to a salon. My name is Jean, and in a few minutes, my staff and I are going to transform you into a ravenous beauty. How does that sound?" "I guess that's why I'm here. Isn't it?" For some reason the idea didn't bother me. She ignored my reply, handed me a glass of clear fruit juice and slowly walked around my wheelchair, examining me from every angle. "We can help you a lot if you cooperate. If you don't accept everything we have in mind for you, you can sort it out later with the two women who brought you here. We're going to transfer you to a tanning booth first, and then to a special beautician's workstation here in the back room, away from those nosey busy bodies up in front. The workstation we'll use today reclines, so you can relax better and we can access your face and hair more easily. Okay?" "Sounds great, so far." I was in uncharted territory and went along with what she said. I set down the empty juice cup and she helped me into the tanning booth, giving me a pair of eyecups, to cover my eyes while the bright, artificial sunlight tanned my skin. After a few minutes, I must have fallen asleep, because she was waking me up, telling me my tanning session was over. I didn't feel tanned, but my skin itched. It must take some time for the tan to appear. Once I was seated in the beautician's chair, they leaned the chair way back and had me put the eyecups back on. "We're giving you an initial laser treatment today to clean up your brows, sideburns and chin a bit. Don't worry. It won't provide any permanent hair removal, but it will slow down the return of hair growth for about a month or so. You'll feel some skin irritation, but don't be concerned. It only lasts for a day or two. After that, your complexion will return to normal. Meanwhile, we'll use a concealer and foundation to hide the slight irritation from the laser we'll use." "Hold on! No one told me about any laser treatment. I'm only here to get my hair done." "Now, just you relax. We're here to help you: fixing your hair to look more attractive. I'm sure you're going to love what we will accomplish. If you don't like the results, we can change your hairstyle to suit your preference or you can write your congressman. Now, I'm spraying on a topical relaxant, so take a deep breath and hold it until I tell you or it might put you to sleep if you inhale too much." "No, don't! Stop!" I wasn't prepared to go out. I wanted to be aware of what they did. "Hold your breath now." I felt her spray something onto my face. I couldn't see what it was, due to the eyecups blinding me. I didn't get a chance to take a deep breath in time and got a strong whiff of the stuff. Boy did it relax me! I went out like a light, hearing her say that it was typical. "Most men are too into themselves to pay attention. He'll be out of it until we're done." Someone was shaking my arm, telling me to wake up. I woke with a start and tried to sit up, forgetting where I was or that's my ankles were in casts. "Ow! My face feels like it's on fire. What did you do to me?" They spun my chair around "Take a look in the mirror." I couldn't believe it. I knew why I had been taken here, but I still couldn't believe what was staring back at me from the mirror. I had red hair and was wearing full makeup. My eyes batted like a sexy girl's. My lips bore a cupid bow with deep crimson lipstick. I was getting a boner just looking at myself. I had tits! Holy cow! I was stacked!" "What do you think of the new you?" I sat in awe of my image. "How - how did you manage to give me - uh - cleavage!" I gestured to my chest with my hands and noticed my fingers had nail extensions added, and they were painted bright red to match my crimson lips. I even had a tiny gemstone in one of my pinkies. Amazing! I liked the subtle touch and admired my hands. "It's the wonders of modern chemistry, darling. Your ride will be arriving soon, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask them. I have to attend to my other customers." "It's amazing! Wow. That's all I can say at the moment." "You might want to take a moment or two to feel around down below." "What? How could you? I felt no pain." Whew! I was intact! That was a relief. There was no telling what some penis-envying witch would pull on a defenseless guy while he's out. I had been at their mercy in the salon. I felt around. Everything felt as it should be, but someone had removed my bikini underwear. All I was wearing was the snap-up pull-apart baggy pants. "What did you do to me down here?" Somehow I was more curious than concerned. "Feel around under your penis." I did as she suggested. My balls! They were gone! "Where are my testicles? What did you do to them?" "Relax, we didn't do anything to them. Once you were asleep, Ronnie pushed them up into your body cavity, so they won't mar the image of your new pussy." "Pussy! What pussy?" "Shush! Keep your voice down, or I'll have to give you another dose of muscle relaxant." "Okay, okay. I'm fine. Don't spray me with that stuff again!" "She used surgical grade glue to mold and fold your scrotum to look just like a woman's vaginal lips. With your little uncut dickie soft and supple up above it, it looks like a very large clit. That's what you and your boyfriend want, isn't it?" "I didn't want anything of the sort. Wait until I get my hands on that guy/girl, whatever!" "Now, don't go blaming Ronnie. She was only following instructions she received from someone by the name of Jake. If you have a problem, I suggest you take it up with him, not Ronnie. She a real sweetheart and wouldn't hurt a fly. Now, tonight after you remove your makeup, you should apply a thick, even coat of this moisturizing cream onto your jaw line and brows and do it every evening for a few more days, until this tube runs out." "Why should I do that?" I examined the large tube she handed to me. "Your jaw and brows were depilated with lasers, darling, to give you a smooth looking chin without a trace of beard line. The brows, well, they will grow back in time, but not as thick as they used to be." "You mean it's permanent? What possessed you to do that? I'm ruined!" "Nothing's really permanent, permanent. You'll still have to come in to get follow-up treatments if you want to remain attractively beardless and have high, arched brows. You'd be surprised how many men who aren't even cross dressers don't want to deal with shaving daily these days and have laser treatments to minimize their heavy beards." "Is that what you call it? Minimizing? How long should the treatment I had last?" "Oh, not long, I'd say a few months before you'll need a touch-up, maybe more." I blew my stack and threw a tantrum. The woman sprayed me with an aerosol can, and the next thing I knew, I woke up back at Jake's place with Ronnie standing over me. Ronnie was calling out to me. "Where's your brother Jake? We have to talk!" I asked. "I told you: he's off running errands. He won't be back until tomorrow night. Hey, nice rack girl!" She cupped one of my false breasts and squeezed. I brushed her hand away. "Hands off!" "Have you seen them yet? Jeanie does great work, but I'm better at hiding the seams. If you look real close, you can tell they're falsies. This brand even warms to the touch from your body's heat, so a guy can't tell the difference unless he's got one of your nipples in a hot lip lock. The surfaces even have little Goosebumps. They cost a fortune, but they're worth every cent. The adhesive is excellent, won't wash out, and it lets your skin breathe, so you can wear them for at least a week, plenty of time for you and Jake to get it on." "This is too much! I don't want t--breasts! You have to take me back to the salon so they can change me back! I have a doctor's appointment to go to on Tuesday!" "Pshaw! I'll take you to see Doc Anderson. That way, Jake won't miss out on any work." "You know my doctor?" "Doc Anderson has been our family doctor for years. Jake must have asked for him when you were at the hospital. Didn't you know?" "No, but I still want Jake to take me to see the doctor, if you don't mind." "I don't, but do you want Jake to miss work again and jeopardize his job?" "Of course not, but I'll surely lose mine if I show up with this red hair and a hairdo!" "It's not red. It's strawberry blonde." "I don't care what you call the color. It has to go, or I'll lose my job!" "Okay, I can change that myself, but I warn you. It'll end up bleach blond if I do. From what Jake told me, you won't be going back to work any time soon. Why don't you leave your hair as it is for now? It matches your makeup and new skin tone beautifully. We can review your options better in a few weeks, when you get your casts removed." My new skin tone. It was true. With all the other changes, I hadn't noticed. I had a great, sexy looking tan. "I look like a completely different person. What am I to do?" "Go with it, girl. Jake will flip out when he sees you." Somehow the idea appealed to me. "When did you say he's due back?" "He's due back late tomorrow evening, after he picks our mother up at the airport." "Your mother? Holy cow! I can't let her see me like this. She knows me. She's bound to recognize me. I have to get out of here and go to a motel or something until she goes back to Florida." "Oh, so you know that Mom's been down in Florida, caring for her folks." "Yes, Jake told me all about it." "Well, Jake told her about you, too. She knows who you are and she's ecstatic and wants to see you, see you as you look now, not as you looked before you went to the salon." "What? Jake wasn't supposed to tell anyone what I begrudgingly agreed to do. This has gotten completely out of hand. You weren't even supposed to know. He didn't tell me you were coming until he was leaving to fetch you two. I should have kept my big mouth shut and never agreed to let this happen to me. Look at me! Now, I'm stuck like this, with tits, no less. If anyone I know now ever find's out about this, I'll never live it down!" "Why are you acting so defensive? With a bit of structural enhancement, no one will be able to recognize who you really are with your new hair color and sexy looking features." "Now what? What kind of structural enhancements? "If you wear a long-line bra to tuck in your svelte waist line a bit more, to give you nicer curves, no one would guess you were a guy in a million years. You'll want to look your best when mom arrives. Won't you? I have several corselets I grew out of long ago. You can borrow them any time you'd like. They'll make you look adorably scrumptious." "I want to crawl under a rock. That's what I want. Go ahead! Pick one out for me. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess." I struggled out of the blouse I had on. She disappeared and returned before I knew she was gone, a common habit around this household. Jake often did the same thing. She brought a black satin confection with steel stays sewn in that clasped in front and had laces in the back. She removed my bra, which she told me was a sports bra, wrapped the corset around me, clasped it and then pulled on the laces in back until I could hardly breathe. She tossed a pair of black satin panties on my lap and told me to get rid of the pull-apart pants. "But, I'm naked under these pants." "I know that. I saw everything you have; so don't give it a thought. I prefer hung men, or sexy real women, so you don't do anything for me, honey. Now, be a good boy and let me help you put on your pretty panties." She was surprisingly good, as good as any nurse I had at the hospital. She had me shift my weight from thigh to thigh and got the panties onto me in nothing flat. They felt real nice up against my naked groin, nice and smooth, as if I didn't have male genitals hidden inside. Well, most of it was tucked away, sort of, so the panties felt snug, like a second skin, with no unsightly bulge showing. She explained why she was putting the garters from the corset under my panties, then left again and returned with a black satin skirt. "This is one of my favorite skirts. You should wear it when you go to see Doc Anderson. If you decide you want to start growing a bosom like mine, maybe you should mention it to him while you're there. Taking feminine hormones for a few months won't affect your male prowess any, and they will make your nipples feel terrific if Jakes plays with them during sex. You can stop taking the hormones any time to recede back to they're being unnoticeable." "No way! Not me! No sir-ee! I'm not taking any women's hormones." I wasn't lying, but the idea of having sensitive nipples was strangely intriguing. "Why not? Many natural women seek professional help with breast augmentation." "He knows I'm a guy! What will he think of me, asking for feminine hormones?" "Why are you worried about what he thinks? It won't bother him. He's not judgmental. He was very considerate, while treating me. He can be a little frisky if he's in the mood and you let him, but otherwise, he's a great endocrinologist. Knows his stuff." "He treated you? Is that why Jake asked him to treat me? Does Jake expect me to--?" "Would you like that? Life's not too shabby, looking sexy, you know. A lot of slight men would be better off emulating women, maybe you will, too, enjoying satisfying perks to your being pretty. You'll have loads of fun if you dare to try it for a wile. The first step in transitioning is to have a good doctor guide you to keep you from being reckless." "What do you mean by transitioning? I'm not about to do any transitioning!" "Some guys think they know it all and try to do it on their own. They hate being males and go about transitioning the wrong way. They don't trust anyone. Fearful about being outed, they don't monitor their hormone intake properly. Too often, they buy drugs from overseas and overdose, thinking it will speed up their transition. Bad news. They end up with all sorts of endocrinal problems. "I suggest you discuss it with Dr. Anderson Tuesday. Becoming a natural woman takes a genetic girl a few years to blossom into maturity. Becoming a transgendered woman will take greater care and much more time, especially if you start after reaching puberty." "Well, I won't have to concern myself with that. This agreement was supposed to be for one little foray to satisfy my curiosity. I'm changing back how I look right afterwards." "I heard that before." She changed the subject. "Let's get some sun before dinner." While we lay together by the pool for a while, I thought about our discussion. I looked down at my chest and wondered what it was like to have real breasts, not glued on falsies. Ronnie had called them prosthetics while she was fitting the corselet over them. I must have dozed off while we were sun bathing, because I heard Ronnie calling out to me. "Wake up. Time to go back in, Bernie. That's enough sun for one day. You had a laser treatment today and a tanning session. You don't want to get a bad sunburn. Your skin will itch bad enough as it is tonight." I was glad Ronnie was there with me to advise me to not get too much sun. I would have gotten a bad burn had she not been there. "Reckless" she had said. Was getting a blowjob from Jake worth getting all dolled up like a chick for a few days? From what I had heard about blowjobs from guys I knew bragging about getting them, it was. At least, I felt sure investigating a bit into cross-dressing would be worth it. I had never scored one time with a chick in my twenty-five years. I would have preferred to have a hot woman go down on me, but I never succeeded at getting to second base with any girl, though I'd tried several times to woo one into doing it for me. I guess I wasn't the alpha he-man type girls find attractive, like Jake. From what I saw of my look, I wasn't any kind of he-man. Well, if Jake finds me attractive, that'll be something. I wanted to see if all the fuss about having someone, anyone, even another guy, performing oral sex on me to find out if oral sex was as great as they claimed. I followed Ronnie into the kitchen, finding Maxine was already busily preparing our supper. "Do you like to cook, Maxine?" I asked. "I love to cook. It's one of my favorite pastimes. I prefer sex, mind you, but jumping into the sack with someone doesn't take much preparation or skill. Preparing good food to feed the human body properly is almost as rewarding, though. Do you like to cook?" "Yes, I do, but until Jake invited me to stay over, I didn't get many opportunities. It's no fun cooking for one person. Don't you agree?" "Absolutely. Like you, I didn't get much of a chance to cook for others, not until I met Ronnie. Ronnie doesn't share my fascination with culinary arts. He prefers to let me do all the cooking for the two of us. How about Jake? Does he cook?" I laughed. "I don't think so. He told me he prefers to eat out." "I'll bet he's not a bore in bed. If his huge hands are any measure, he must be hung. Eh?" I didn't respond. I just smiled, letting her draw her own conclusions. After we had dinner together, Maxine and I did the dishes together, and chatted. I tuned her out after a while, and just listened to a voice in my head telling me I wanted Jake to find me sexy. Ronnie had gone down to the entertainment center to watch TV. After the dishes were done, Maxine softly excused herself and joined Ronnie on the lower level. I went to Jake's bedroom and stretched out on the bed, feeling strangely relaxed and in a good mood. . I put on the TV in his room and cruised through the channels until I spotted a key on the remote in my hand I hadn't noticed on the remote in the other bedroom, Ronnie's bedroom. I hit the button and a live shot of Ronnie's bed appeared on the set. Well, this is interesting, I thought. The two girlie men were on the bed together, having a good time. I mused that there must not have been anything good on TV. I set the volume low, not wanting the two girlie men to know that I was watching them have sex. Ronnie was licking Maxine's crotch. It looked like she had a vagina instead of a cock. Looking closer, I noticed that the head of her cock was there, but it was soft and barely visible. The camera was set up overlooking the side of Ronnie's bed. From this vantage I could see the side of Ronnie's head as she attached her mouth to Maxine's small cock. Maxine was rapt with pleasure as Ronnie slurped and sucked on the small protuberance. Her tiny cock didn't get hard, regardless of all the attention Ronnie was paying to it, but Maxine writhed convulsively as Ronnie sucked and sucked, while Maxine moaned and moaned in delight. All of a sudden, her little cock gushed a shot of cream into Ronnie's face. It was so sexy looking; I was mesmerized! I wondered if I looked so good. They switched places soon afterwards, and Maxine began to lick Ronnie's small cock. In a matter of minutes, it was big, rock hard and jutting out, fully erect. Apparently, Ronnie was the male factor in the couple, for as soon as her cock was fully erect she slid down on the bed and lifted up Maxine's legs over her shoulders. I watched enrapt, as she slowly fed her massive love muscle into Maxine's open, rear passage. The two of them butt fucked like a couple of bunnies. The scene was extremely erotic, and it urged me to seek manual relief. My hand slid down to my panty-covered groin and I palmed the smooth surface. It felt marvelous to touch my flat mound, barely causing my soft penis to twitch. Regardless, I had a warm sensation fill my groin from my urgent palming. I could feel my soft cock pulse repeatedly under my hand and felt the front of my panty become sticky. I pulled my hand away and brought it to my nose. Cum! I had ejaculated without even getting hard! How unusual, but very rewarding, nonetheless. I resumed watching the two girlie men fuck on the screen, and was clearly able to hear their sighs and moans from the adjacent bedroom. I closed my eyes and felt another warm sensation and a gush of cream fill my panty. Now, that was very unusual. Normally when masturbating, I was wiped out after my initial ejaculation. Watching the two lovers go at it on the screen, knowing that they were right next-door to me, in the next bedroom, I was able to cum twice in less than ten minutes. I continued to play with myself, content to be a voyeur. The experience was captivating. Soon, I had a third, albeit diminished orgasm. By this time, my panty was soaked through and through. I lay there, contented, stroking my soft cock, enjoying a dreamy afterglow. The experience was totally different from any bout of masturbation I'd done previously. I had never reveled in post-orgasmic euphoria previously. Once I was done, I was done whenever I pulled my pud in the past. This was much nicer, very, very pleasant. Soon afterward, I drifted off to sleep, with the TV still on, with Ronnie's face filling the TV screen, exhibiting a mouthful of ejaculate. It was a wasted gesture, as I was asleep. In the morning, I wheeled into the adjoining bathroom to sit on the throne and remove my drenched panty. Using a coat hanger to pick it off the floor, I washed it out by hand, and hid it, still damp, in one of the drawers of the vanity, in the nick of time. Ronnie was standing in the doorway, observing me. "Did you enjoy the show last night?" "Me? Whatever do you mean, Ronnie?" "Just so you know, the little red light on the front of the camera in my room goes on when someone is watching. So, did you enjoy our little exhibition?" Busted! "Yeah. Seeing Maxine's little thing was enlightening. It explains what you did to me. Why did my penis stay soft, even when I was ejaculating?" "Absorption! Before I tucked your cock and balls neatly away yesterday, I treated your entire groin with a strong desensitizing cream that prevents your cock from getting hard. It's very effective for a few days, and then gradually wears off so don't get too up tight about it. You'll still be able to get off sexually, but you won't get a hard on for a while. Your groin looks and feels a lot like a woman's pussy now to anyone who cares to look at it or touch it --- or kiss it". She paused while I envisioned Jake going down on me. "I did Maxine's groin yesterday too, so you'd see hers small and soft if you caught us in the act on the TV in Jake's room, and you'd get an idea of what it's like to see a man acting like a woman for another man sexually in bed. "Your new vagina won't accommodate penile penetration, but it does look authentic, as good as is possible without surgery. We use alternate means to satisfy penile penetration, namely: the anal and oral body cavities. I thought about the scene I had viewed the night before and it made me curious. "That has to be painful! Why didn't it hurt Maxine when you - penetrated her" "Some girls become so loose, they need more than mere penile penetration to achieve full satisfaction. In case you haven't guessed what that is already, it's called fisting." "I don't even want to know what that involves, so keep it to yourself." "Just hope and pray Jake doesn't either. With those big paws of his --" "Don't even say it, because it isn't going to happen, not ever, leastwise not with me. Can I ask you a question, Ronnie?" "You just did. Just kidding. Sure, go ahead. Ask away." "Before you were comfortable going out in public dressed as a woman, how did you get the clothes to wear, I mean, uh, the feminine attire?" "That was a problem years ago when I first started cross dressing. I started out wearing my mom's things. But, the Internet has since eliminated the need to go out publicly as a male to buy women's clothes. As far as I'm concerned, it never was a big problem for me personally. The way I look at it, women can go out to buy men's clothes for their families all the time. Why shouldn't men feel equally comfortable shopping for women's clothes for their families? I turned a few heads taking skirts and blouses into a changing cubicle or two, but no one ever told me that I couldn't, or shouldn't." Maxine showed up and piped in. "They probably wouldn't dare. You would have bitten off their heads and given them a piece of your mind, and theirs Ronnie." "How I dress is on one's business, but mine. Hell, if I want to go commando, I will, and you or nobody else is going to stop me," she retorted. Maxine turned to me. "See what I mean. She's a brazen hussy. Now, I'd like to pick up a few things while we're in town. If you'd like to go shopping with me someday, I'll be happy to show you the ropes, once you're back on your feet. Meanwhile, I can tell you how to convert men's sizes to women's, which is easy: you divide the size in inches by two. I'll warn you though; the women's indicated sizes are unreliable. Unlike men's clothes, you have to try everything on. One dress marked a 16 could be smaller than another marked a 14. Some dressmakers 'run' larger or smaller than others. "Dress shops are very accommodating. You can go to one, take several garments into one of the changing rooms, try them all on, and walk out of the store without buying a single stitch of clothes. No one will say a word to you about it. They don't think anything of it, because women take forever to buy their clothes. The stores are used to the way women shop. Everything has to fit perfectly, or they simply don't buy it." "Why not? Nothing we men buy fits perfectly. So what if a shirt is a little bit loose?" "Women's clothes are figure hugging. The cut of a dress has to match their body contours perfectly. An inch difference in height could affect how a dress hangs. One bra size larger or smaller, and the dress won't fit right. I'm telling you: women are far more persnickety about how the look than men, and it conveniently works to our advantage." "How so?" Some cross dressers only dress. They don't get involved with anyone else while they are in their feminine mode. They get their thrills by spending countless hours shopping for women's clothes they seldom buy. Some go to specialty shops that cater to them rather than take a chance being 'outed' at a regular dress shop. As a result, because they don't invest the time and effort required to look authentic, they're easy to read." "Do the regular dress shop operators give them a hard time when they catch them?" "Careful how you say that 'hard time' double entendre, but I know what you mean. No, they'd cause too much commotion by doing that. They just discreetly ask them to leave the store. I've had it happen to me before Ronnie came along to help me look more authentic. Now, I can shop at any shop in town without being detected for being male. "I take particular delight in 'passing' as a woman. There's more to being a consummate transsexual than just sex. Ronnie and I love to entertain men from on stage. They know we're men, but they still gawk at us when we parade around the stage in scanty attire and stuff dollar bills into our panties when we mingle with the crowd afterwards. My little clit dribbles when a dude says he wants to fuck me. They can be crude and silly, sometimes, but that's what makes being an entertainer fun and exciting." "Did you ever do more than mingle with the customers?" "At one time, it was all I did. How I got started dressing up as a woman isn't a very pretty story. I'll tell it to you sometime, if you'd like, but you might not like what you hear." "No, no! Tell me now! Please Max. Tell me!" "Okay. Here goes, but stop me if you heard enough. First year of college, I'm away from home for the first time in my life. I got into partying heavy, and met a real sexy girl that was kinky as could be. She was a no-holds-barred nymph and liked to play parlor games. We got high together at one frat party we attended and she wanted to play 'switch' with me, meaning she wanted to exchange clothes with me to make out with me in front of the other guys at the party. It wasn't the first time we made out in front of other people, and I was zonked out on uppers. She had a ball making believe she was fucking me, and her girlfriends joined the fun, all of them taking turns with me, feeding me their quims. I was flying high by then, and was game for anything, but no longer capable of putting on a show for them all. I was pushed aside while the guys paid attention to the six girls who were at the party without dates. We were all pretty drunk. The guys convinced the girls to give them head. Still dressed, one of the guys eventually forced me to give him head, as I was dressed the part and that was good enough for him as far as he was concerned. "Well, one thing led to another, and before I knew it, someone cuffed my hands behind my back, while someone else put a rubber hood over my head, and I was used and abused for hours by people at the party. When I woke up sometime later the following day, the worst thing I discovered was that I had been stuffed into a laundry gurney at the frat house, covered with bed linens and spirited away to a cathouse. The bitch had sold me! The madam advised me she had paid a fortune for me and specified how she expected me to repay the debt. She had a woman come in who drugged me, and then put permanent makeup on me. She had given me a pair of huge falsies and put a sub dermal hormone implant into my hips. Within a month or so, I had swollen nipples, a nymphomaniac's sexual appetite and a sexy body to go along with it all. "I spent well over a year working in her service. She had locked a phony necklace around my neck and had a small electronic device installed under each of my enlarged nipples that responded to a remote control. If I refused to do anything she demanded, the collar and nipple devices sent electrical shocks through me. She cackled when she told me she had preset the remote to mild, and if she wanted to, she could electrocute me. She had me convinced might be found dead someday in some deserted building if I didn't treat all my tricks like I thought they were the best. When the police found me they would assume I was a freelancer turning 'tricks' on my own. If an autopsy would find evidence of a drug overdose, the police wouldn't bother investigating any further. Who gives a damn about deceased tranny drug users who sold their bodies to support their drug habits? "By the way, that's were I got these tracks." She showed me her forearms, both covered with the telltale signs of an extended period of drug use. "She kept me sedated, so I'd be complacent about my lot. Every other week or so, she'd lock me up, wean me off the sedatives for a few days, take me to a room set up like a lab, and regularly take a sample of my blood to be tested, and then a whole pint of it to be sold. She took my blood and fed me drugs with precise doses and regularity to give me a pale complexion and hapless demeanor. She claimed her customers liked her girls and toys very sexy, very thin, very compliant, and very submissive. That was my lifestyle for well over a year, until Ronnie came along and saved me." "How did Ronnie manage to do that? Surely he's no match for an experienced abductor?" "I was taken to the lab one day in handcuffs, of course, and was about to have my blood drawn. The madam had stupidly handcuffed me in front, instead of behind my back. The nurse, if that was what she was, dropped something. When she bent over, I struck her behind the neck with all my might, with both hands. I took a spare lab coat and draped it over my sexy negligee. The madam came in to see what the commotion was, and I hid behind the door. When she opened it, I struck her behind the neck with the back of both hands, just like I had done to the nurse, and she dropped to the floor like a rock. "I found the remote she used to control me in her purse, back in her room. The remote had a numeric keypad and a number for each person controlled by it. The names of the people she controlled were on the back of the device with their individual codes. She had two other remote devices in her purse, meaning she was controlling between twenty to thirty sex slaves. I took all three devices, went to the maintenance man's room and waved a controller at him, telling him if he didn't cut off my handcuffs immediately, I'd hit the button and electrocute him. "He didn't take any chances. I wasn't taking any either. I didn't know how much time I had before the madam or the nurse would recover. As soon as the maintenance man unlocked my cuffs with a key from a spare set he had, I ran for dear life. I had no idea where I was, where I was going, or what I was going to do next. I was dressed up like a whore, the only kind of clothes I was ever allowed to wear, with a lab coat over the thin outfit. My heavy makeup and skyscraper heels revealed my occupation to anyone who gave me any more than a causal glance, so I just walked swiftly trying to not draw undue attention to myself. "That's when Ronnie came into my life. I was crossing a street where she was driving by in her car on her way home from the junior college she was attending. She almost ran me over. When she swerved and came up along side of me, she took one look and told me to get in, calling me 'sister'. Boy, did that sound good to me! They say it takes one to know one. One look at her, and I knew. One look at me, and she knew. "After I told her what had happened to me, she took me to the same salon where she took you yesterday. They put me into the tanning booth to darken my complexion, completely changed my hair color and style, and then sent me to a woman tattoo artist to change my permanent makeup. At the time, I was so spaced out that I didn't know it was permanent. Naturally, I wanted to revert to my male appearance, but Ronnie told me she'd take me to a doctor first, to assess my medical needs to see if it was possible and/or advisable." "Dr. Anderson, I presume." "Yup! He was able to reduce the size of my breasts, using arthroscopy. The hormones the madam fed me had castrated me chemically. I still have my testicles, but I'm sterile, now, due to massive overdoses of hormones she fed me to alter my behavior patterns. She wanted me to look and act like a real woman, to be more attractive to a wider customer base. As a result, I have a lot of extra skin on my chest now, I have to do a lot of special exercises, and have to wear very supportive corsetry, similar to the corselet you're wearing, but are custom made for me, since I wear them for a different reason than you. "Different? In what way?" "You're wearing yours to coax your body into having sexier curves, and to hide those seams of your falsies. I don't have falsies. I still have implants, though they're smaller than the grotesque melons I had at first. I'm trying to avoid getting my boobs surgically tucked and lifted." "Why? Wouldn't you rather have them removed completely?" "I don't have and don't want any scars. They would dramatically hamper my ability to appear on stage as a performer. I'd much rather they fill out naturally from taking more hormones in the appropriate dose, seeing as how my dick isn't functional any more." "I'd think the guys would prefer seeing a female impersonator with large - breasts." Here I was discussing breasts and dicks with another guy, and we both were sporting cleavage. "Yes, up to a D, or even double D's, but not huge, unsightly double FF's. I looked like a cow, ready to be milked! Huge tits maybe okay on a deviant sex toy in a whorehouse, but not on a professional stripper in a high-class gay resort. They're C's right now. I want to have D's. Any more than that will be too much for my svelte frame. "You don't need a lot to be able to please. Look at Ronnie. She's perfectly content with her natural B's. Of course, hers are home grown, no artificial filler, purely organic." She was joking, but I didn't get it. She had to explain. "Ronnie started on hormones during her puberty years. The shrinks approved because they felt she was way too much of a girl and not about to be convinced otherwise, and she was bound and determined to transition. Her breasts are natural, just like real girls have. Ew, I hate her!" She was joking again, I presumed. "Oh, they're very nice to look at. From what I saw of them last night, they look just like a young teenager's breasts. They're perky, and the tops slope." The thought occurred to me suddenly that I wouldn't mind having cute looking breasts like Ronnie's. I had to shake my head to clear away that lingering notion. "That's what I mean. Ew! How that girl makes me jealous! If only Dr. Anderson could give me a pair like hers. What I wouldn't do! Speaking of Ronnie, where did she go?" I was thinking the same thing. Having breasts of my own to fondle, that is. It was all I could think of at that moment. "I don't know. Downstairs, maybe?" "We'd better restrict our discussion to helping you acquire a trousseau. Where were we? Oh, yes! You're seeing Dr Anderson Tuesday. Have him take down your measurements, and ask him to advise you on how to proceed. If I were you, I'd go with the hormones, and maybe a bit of collagen for your nipples and lips." I envisioned myself with thick lips and puffy, sensitive nipples. My cock twitched in my fresh panties, and I felt a flood of warm fluid spread over my flaccid groin. "You can stop the hormones if you don't tolerate them well, they won't harm your male performance, unless you keep taking them for more than six or seven months or so. Even then, you may not want to stop. Hormones will definitely enhance your sexual appetite and response to tactile stimulation: the touchy feely aspects of foreplay. Just you wait and see. You can't possibly imagine how good it feels to have someone who loves you deeply go down on you, once your libido kicks in like a woman's. I can have several exquisite, mind blowing inner orgasms before I tire out now. I wouldn't change back into being a mere man again for all the money in the world." She changed topics and got back to discussing women's clothing sizes. I heard her voice, but my mind was on what she said about how much better it was to be able to experience multiple orgasms. I wanted to know what that would feel like, and it was all I could think about. She went on to tell me the basics of determining clothing sizes; then told me that I'd look too conspicuous, sitting in a wheelchair at a dress shop, so she didn't recommend my going shopping, just yet. I was disappointed hearing that. I wanted to go shopping! "Wait until your casts come off, and I'll take you out shopping to your heart's content. You see, Bernie. It's a woman's prerogative to shop until she drops. That's how we can tell we're confirmed cross dressers. Part of the gender identity mystique is to want to go shopping like the real girls!" Ronnie butted in, "She's still in the closet, Max. Better warn her about the urge to purge, while you're at it." "Sure. Every now and then, we feel inner remorse, as if there's something wrong with our desiring to dress as women. We go on a massive guilt trip that culminates in our throwing out all of our feminine finery. Two weeks later, the craving starts anew and we go out shopping to buy new feminine finery, all over again. I have purged at least a half-dozen times, so far. By now, you'd think I'd know better and simply take my femmy things to a monthly storage facility, and save myself some dough!"" Ronnie added, "A woman never has enough clothes to wear. Sometimes, you buy a dress only to wear it one time. Once you accumulate a closet full of elaborate feminine clothes, you'll know that you're hooked for life and will never want to return to a drab male life." I envisioned having a closet full of brightly colored dresses, skirts and blouses, all cut in sexy styles to enhance my meager assets. I looked down at my ankles, disgusted with my having both feet in casts. I had zoned out again and deliriously happy, but had to shake my head to clear the cobwebs when I heard new voices coming from down the hallway. Jake had returned, and with his mother. Oh, my! Where had the time gone? I still needed a top! I wanted to look smart for their mother's arrival. 12. Maxine helped me get into a see through blouse while Ronnie went out to greet his/her mom. I could hear them approaching the bedroom just as I finished buttoning all but the last few buttons. I straightened out the collar of the blouse and looked over to the mirror. Too late! My makeup was a bit messy from my having it on still, from when I fell asleep the night before. What was I to do? I sat there immobile, afraid to move a muscle. She came into the room, took one look at me and said, "Who did her makeup today? Did she do it herself, or did one of you two botch it up? She looks like she just saw a ghost. Correct it for her and bring her to the kitchen. If she's still a virgin, she shouldn't be here, in Jake's room. Ronnie, see that one of the other bedrooms is aired out and prepared for her. Maxine, you do her makeup. Do it now! Jake, you come with me. She left the room without addressing me directly. I was quaking in my casts, worried that she wouldn't like me. Somehow, I wanted her acceptance. I wanted her to like me the way I was dressed, as a woman, a helpless woman in a wheelchair, but a woman, not as a man. I started to cry. I hadn't cried in years, not since my brother-in-law called me names and told me I wasn't worth 'dog shit'. She reminded me of him. Maxine tried to pull me out of my funk. "She likes you, Bernie. I can tell." "What? You heard her. She's a monster!" "You think she was acting mean towards you? What do you expect? You captivated the heart of her darling son, and you certainly don't qualify as a bearer of grandchildren. She has to act like she doesn't like you at first. I know her better. She likes you. Ronnie added, "Don't you know anything about women? They treat all the other women they meet like the opposition, someone poaching on their turfs. Get used to it, kiddo. It won't be the last time some woman extends her talons to let you know who is boss." "I'm out of here, Maxine. That woman will have me committed, if she can, and I'm helpless in this wheelchair." "Let me fix your face for you. If Jake wants you bad enough, he'll convince his mother to accept you for what you appear to be. After all, she knows you. Doesn't she?" "That's what I don't understand. She used to be so nice to me when Jake and I went to high school together." "That may very well be the case, but Jake didn't have a 'thing' for you back then. You were merely a friend back then, a buddy. She was civil towards your male counterpart because she didn't have to judge you as being an object of Jake's affection. Every mother intuitively has a protective nurturing instinct. She'll fight to her last breath to achieve the end result that makes her children happy. Fear not, Jake will make sure she accepts you." "I hope so! If she throws me out into the street, dressed as I am now, I'm in big trouble. Whatever will I do? I can't let that happen." "Nothing dire is going to happen to you. I'm sure of it. Just go along with the program." "I wish I shared your confidence. All I feel is impending doom!" We were being summoned to the kitchen. When we arrived there, Jake's mom rose from her chair and came to me. She leaned over me and planted a cold, impersonal kiss on my cheek. "So, my dear," she inquired. "How have you been since we saw each other last? You certainly have changed," she noted. "If I sounded peeved when I first saw you, you have to forgive me. It's because I had a terrible time arranging a flight here on such short notice, and I had to leave my sister in charge of my folks. I hate to depend on her, but I don't trust the hired day nurses to follow orders. They seem to think they know better." I could tell this woman ruled the roost and wasn't going to take any lip from anyone. She had me deathly afraid of her, and she knew it. "I understand Dr. Anderson is taking care of your physical impairment. Is that right?" "Yes ma'am. I'm supposed to see him this Tuesday for my first check-up since I left the hospital. Ronnie and Maxine agreed to take me, so Jake won't miss work." "That won't be necessary, now that I'm here. They can come along, if they'd like but I'll drive. After all, I want to make sure you get the best of medical care. Jake has told me so much about you. I feel you two haven't drifted apart at all. What is it now? Five years?" "Yes, ma'am." "Oh, how polite. I like that, Jake. She is a cute one, and so feminine looking. I'll have to call Jean to tell her what a great job she did with her hair. It looks so -becoming. Maybe I'll have Jean give my hair a tint like hers, only with a few accent streaks. A woman's hair color speaks so much about her personality. Don't you agree, Bernice?" "It's Bernie, ma'am, short for Bernard. I don't know much about hair color and--." "Humor me, dear. I prefer Bernice. We can't go around town calling you Bernard, now can we? What will our neighbors think? Bernice sounds much more feminine. You do plan to continue dressing en femme for the duration. Right?" "But, I'm used to being called Bernie. What duration are you referring to, ma'am?" "Your recovery. You've been seen out by the pool as a woman, you must continue!" "I guess so. I suppose it'll be just for a few more days than I originally planned." "I insist, at least until your ankle casts come off. When do expect Dr. Anderson will remove them?" "Not for another few weeks, at least! I wasn't planning on dressing like this that long. I have to return to work soon. My boss will have fits if I'm not there for the winter catalog production cycle. We can't book any time off. It's too hectic a time of year at work." "Just as I thought. I'm sure Dr. Anderson will provide you with a proper excuse to keep your boss at bay. Has your boss been around, checking up on you?" "No. He knows where I am, but. I told him to contact me on my cell phone if he wants to know about my progress." "Personally, I think your progress so far has been marvelous. I'm sure Ronnie has been very helpful. She's such a precious soul. How do you feel about Ronnie?" "I think - she has the right to choose how she lives." I was glad I caught myself and used the feminine pronoun when I referred to Ronnie. Jake's mom smiled at hearing me say it. "Do you feel comfortable dressed as you are, my dear?" "Yes, ma'am. Surprisingly, I do. I would have never guessed I would be, but I am, very comfortable, thank you, ma'am." "Good. Then it's settled. I will supervise your transition while I'm in town. You will remain in skirts and dresses until your ankles mend. As long as you are here in my house, I want you to promise to do your best to look as cute as possible, including making any further enhancements Dr. Anderson might suggest to you. Am I making myself clear?" "Yes ma'am." I paused, unsure if I should address the possibility of my taking hormones, but she dismissed me before I got the chance. Ronnie and Maxine scurried me out of the kitchen to prevent me from saying something that might upset the applecart. When they got me to Ronnie's bedroom, they advised me they were setting me up in the bedroom on the other side of Jake's, so Ronnie's and Jakes bedrooms were both between my new bedroom and their mother's, to provide me with a buffer zone between her and I. That was a relief. If the truth were known, I appreciated the woman's immediate grasp of a situation and her ability to assume control swiftly, but she made me quiver in fear when I was in her presence. She was that overbearing. I got the feeling the entire family yielded to her air of superiority. I wondered if her married sons and daughter-in-laws submitted to her authority, equally. The bathroom for this bedroom was to be shared with the occupant or occupants of the last bedroom in the house. The toilet wasn't a handicapped throne, but a chrome railing was installed along one side to assist a handicapped user. Ronnie and Maxine helped me out of my wheelchair onto the toilet and gave me some privacy for a change. They returned upon hearing me flush the bowl, and helped me back into my wheelchair. I expected them to help me out of the corselet I was wearing, but Maxine felt it would do me some good to get used to wearing one twenty-four seven. After explaining what that meant, they assured me they'd truss me up in a fresh one in the morning. I had trouble sleeping that night, thinking about Maxine being forced to perform deviant sex acts as a shemale, against her will, for a whorehouse madam for over a year. What troubled me most was the fact that Maxine had escaped the woman's clutches and didn't seem concerned that the madam might still be searching for her. Maxine must not have told me the entire story, or why she wasn't worried about the madam finding her, for some reason. At some point during the night, I slipped my hand down to my modified groin and placed my palm over my silken panty. Rubbing myself gently felt marvelous. I wondered how long the absorbed desensitizing cream would last. I wanted to get another dose of it as soon as it wore off. Getting off sexually without getting an erection first was intoxicating! I fell asleep finally, content with playing with my fake pussy until exhaustion took over. The following morning, I felt very refreshed and sexy, as if I had slept well through the entire night. I attributed my exuberance to the corselet I had on. It hugged my torso in a delightful manner, flattening my tummy, and making my butt cheeks stick out in back. I examined the corselet closely. Sure enough, the sides were padded heavily, forcing my butt to protrude. I could hardly wait until I could stand on my own two feet, and examine the effect my new restrictive attire had on my thin body in the mirror over the vanity in the bathroom. When I returned to the bedroom, Ronnie and Maxine were waiting for me. They removed my black corselet and replaced it with a very feminine pink one with lace borders sewn in at the hem and around the bra cups. Ronnie told me it was called a French Basque. The abbreviated strapless bra covered only the lower halves of my fake boobs, so I was given a modest top to wear over the figure hugging structure to hide the barely visible seams of my boobs. I looked down, and then over to Ronnie, wondering what it was like to have fleshy orbs jiggling on my chest like hers. The girls took their time dressing me and fixing my hair and makeup. Then, with a bit of flourish, they wheeled me to the kitchen for inspection by the mistress of the household. Jake and Ronnie's mom barely looked up from their breakfasts, casually approving their efforts without even looking at me. "Take her out on the deck for some sun, Ronnie. Not too long. We don't want her skin to get so much sun that it burns." "Yes, mother." "You know what to do. We want her legs to tan gradually, so she can show off her sexy legs once she's back on her feet. My legs were completely bare and pale looking. All I wore below my Basque were opaque, satin panties. I looked over at Maxine. Her crotch was flat, as I assumed mine was. I couldn't detect the slightest bulge, suggesting she was a male. Yet, she was. Her genitals were concealed just like mine were. Having a flat groin didn't seem to bother her in the least way. I wondered if her cock twitched as mine did from looking at her with lust on my mind. I tried to turn my attention elsewhere several times, but my gaze came back to that wonderful V-shaped juncture each time, and she smiled at me, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking, and she approved. I swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in my mouth from watching her move around on the chaise lounge in her revealing bathing suit. I could swear she was intentionally teasing me. When it was time to go back inside, Ronnie's mom came out to take me to my room for an afternoon nap. Maxine followed closely behind. When we got to my room they helped me onto the bed, and retightened the Basque's laces. They took a soft tape measure and put it around my waistline. "Twenty-nine, three more inches to go. Soon, you'll have a nice trim waistline, Bernice, like Maxine's and Ronnie's." Maxine came up and put her hand on my satin covered tummy, telling me have a pleasant nap. It didn't take long. I had a restful sleep and woke up in time for dinner, according to the alarm clock on the headboard, but I couldn't find anyone to help me out of the bed. I stretched and yawned, hoping to hear some sounds from around the house. I wanted to see Jake. I hadn't seen him for more than a few minutes ever since he arrived home from the airport with his overbearing mother. As I lie there, I heard the whisper of nylons, and opened my eyes. Maxine told me to go back to sleep, that I needed to rest up for my trip to the doctor's office in the morning. I drifted off, feeling her rub my tummy. I pushed up against her hand, taking a deep breath and lifting further up, so her hand would touch my satin panty. I wanted her to touch me there. She accommodated me, gently stroking my panty front, telling me to not worry my head about anything, that I was safe, and would be safe with the doctor in the morning, too. Not to worry, not to worry. Everything would turn out fine. 13. The following morning was a bustle of activity, once I was dressed in a fresh corset and a silky, sheer blouse. I had a pair of panties on and a pair of short shorts over that. "Only time for a piece of toast and a glass of juice, Bernice." Mother called out. As she sat on the opposite side of the table, she told me she would like me to address her as mother, as she was the mother hen of the household, and I was one of her chicks, so to speak. I nodded politely. "Yes, mother." I had a warm feeling come over me. For some reason, I wanted to call her mother, to show her respect and courtesy. Her demeanor changed as soon as I said it. She placed her hand over mine across the table and assured me we were going to get along, just fine. With that, Maxine smiled and winked at me, and then she wheeled me out the front door while mother backed the minivan out of the garage. It didn't take us long to reach our destination. As we exited the minivan, mother placed a blanket over my legs. "For modesty, my dear. You don't want strange men looking where they ought not look. Do you?" "No ma'am." I blushed. After a brief wait in the foyer of the doctor's office, Maxine followed the nurse, pushing my wheelchair into a room with a doctor's examination table. With help from the nurse, she picked me up handily and placed me on the exam table, as if I was light as a feather. Dr. Anderson soon came into the room, looked at me, and then told the others to please give him a moment alone with me. They filed out begrudgingly, leaving me alone with him in the small room. "So, it seems you've changed a lot in the past two weeks, since I saw you last. I also see that Ronnie's mom has you in tow. She's a feisty one, but she won't bite. I suggest you go along with her wisdom, and you'll be fine. Now! What can I do for you today? I see by your vitals the nurse took when you arrived you're recovering well. I'll send you to the lab for x-rays when we're done here, and give you a follow-up call tomorrow, when I get the results. I'll want you to get another set of x-rays a day or so before your next visit. Arrange that at your convenience with the radiologist. We'll examine the x-rays together and then, I'll decide if the casts can come off your ankles." I sighed. I could hardly wait the two more weeks. "Doctor?" "Yes, go on. I'm listening." "How does a guy ask his doctor to put him on a hormone regimen?" "Assuming the guy is you, you simply ask me. I'll send you to see a psychologist for evaluation. If he approves, I'll take blood tests to measure your testosterone levels. After evaluating the results, I'll give you an initial dose of feminine hormones, and testosterone inhibitor. I know what you want to hear, and I'll provide you with a reading list of books to study that will cover everything you want to know about transitioning. "Hormones aren't something you want to fool with casually. They will certainly curtail your beard's growth, soften your skin and alter some other aspects of your complex body chemistry. You probably want me to tell you more about the process, but I'm a practicing physician and surgeon, not a college professor. I don't have the time or the patience to educate you, beyond cautioning you on the inherent dangers you'll encounter initiating a regimen of feminine hormone use. If you choose to pursue it further, I'll expect you to follow the regimen I'll prescribe for you to the letter. Agreed?" "Oh, I doubt if I want to take it that far. I heard hormones would affect my temperament and male sex drive. I just want to try it for a short time, to see if I'll like what happens." "Oh, I see. If that's the case, you don't want to start on hormones right now, young lady. You'll want to use prosthetics or orthodics to find out if you're inclined to prefer dressing as a woman full time. I recommend a full year for observation and self-discovery. "A year? Why? I only want to try it out for a few weeks, at most. I'm just --- curious." "A year is the standard recommended period of adjustment you should undertake before making any decision that will affect the remainder of your life. A few weeks, indeed! If you want to fool around a little with someone, I can provide you with a measure that will increase your interest in sexy men and something else to make your nipples tingle. Other than that, I can only recommend temporary measures." "Okay. I was hoping maybe you could help me look more ladylike, more naturally." He palmed my cheek and smiled. "That's what I thought. Don't worry, my dear. I can fix you up so you'll enjoy experimenting a bit to find out if its what you want in life, without violating any medical precepts. Before I do that, though, I need you to sign a few written consent forms. I'll have my nurse prepare them and bring them to you here where you'll be able to read them privately. Now, I have other patients to attend to. Please excuse me" He wasn't gone long before his nurse came to me with a file jacket of forms. They looked like they were straightforward, so I gave them a quick reading and signed them all. With that out of the way, she told me that I could have lunch with my 'sisters' and 'mother', slyly indicating that she was in on our secret. After she left the room, Ronnie, Maxine, and 'mother' returned to fetch me to lunch. When we arrived at an upscale restaurant, and were escorted to a booth in a private room, mother addressed me. "Dr Anderson has mentioned that he is going to perform a simple procedure for you today, Bernice, so you will look your best while sunbathing poolside." "Do you approve? I hope you don't think it was reckless of me to make an inquiry." "Yes, I approve, and no I don't think you were irresponsible by asking Dr. Anderson how you can be more appealing to Jake. Truthfully, I expected more resistance from you." "I'm twenty-five years old and I got absolutely nowhere courting women. Heaven knows. I've tried. I might as well accept the fact that I'm a runt and I don't appeal to women. If this is what it takes for me to make some headway -- socially, then, so be it. Surprisingly, it's been fun holding hands with Jake and having him wanting me to kiss him." Ronnie butted in. "Having him want you to kiss his cock, you mean. More power to you, girl. I could never get that inhibited slug to accept my sexual advances when we were growing up together. I'm glad someone finally turns his crank." Her mother chastised Ronnie. "Now, behave yourself, Ronnie. We're in a public place. Be civil toward Bernice. That's no way to talk about Jake's inhibitions. I'm pleased your brother is finally taking interest in someone, anyone. I'm tired of his moping about, with his nightly emissions staining his bed linens from his continuous self-abuse." They all laughed, except me. I somehow didn't see any humor in her comment. When a waitress came over to take our orders, she was advised that I was only to have water. After they had lunch, we returned to the doctor's office and I was ushered back into one of the rooms. "I'll need that corset and those amateurish prosthetics removed. You can have your two girlfriends do it for you or I'll have the nurse remove them. I need easy access to your boy nipples and abdomen." I was stripped naked in a flurry of activity. After the removal of the falsies taken care of, he injected my nipples and navel with an anesthetic, and then did something that made them feel like they were on fire. He then made a small incision in my navel and inserted thin probes, scraping at the interior of my abdomen at both sides. Then, he inserted stiff plastic tubes containing small, deflated sacs, and directed them up into my chest cavity under my pectoral muscles, which felt uncomfortable, but wasn't painful until he pulled down firmly on the tubes. That hurt! I was horrified! He begged my forgiveness, as he explained that the sacs that would contain my "new" breasts had to be firmly attached to the wall of my chest cavity. He then withdrew the stiff plastic tubes from my navel, one at a time and sutured it, with thin, flexible tubing exposed. He then filled the two sacs with a third solution making the sacs swell up to the size of small plums. "This is a new formula, lighter in weight than saline. Once it expands fully, it becomes somewhat firm, but not solid. It is non- invasive. The solution will remain safely inside the vinyl implants, providing increased bulk to the bustline for either girls with limited natural development, or provide an illusion of breasts for transitioning males. The contents of the implants can be evacuated safely later on, if you so choose, but the surgery for the removal is much more involved than the procedure for introduction that I just performed. The first injections I gave you blocked the pain caused by making the interdictions. The second set of injections into your nipples will heighten the sensitivity of your natural nipples and skin surrounding them on your new breasts, without lowering your male capacity to any measurable degree." "Are you aware that my male plumbing has already been modified and desensitized?" "By Maxine?" "No, I believe Ronnie did it. I'm not too sure. I wasn't fully awake at the time. I wasn't aware that you were going to give me breast implants today either, until you explained what you were doing." "You should have, from the consent forms I had you sign earlier. The desensitizing agent they used on your groin will wear off eventually, and the adhesive deteriorate, as well. Now, your new breasts will remain delightfully youthful, unless you choose to have them removed or altered. They'll feel huge to you at first, because normal healing processes cause considerable inflammation. I made no incisions around the perimeter of both aureoles, as was done in the past for augmentation. I inserted empty, sterile, heavy-duty vinyl sacs through your navel, using a special insertion tool that allows me to affix the breasts to your rib cage easily. I then injected those sacs with that special formula that will gradually expand in response to your natural body heat. It will take twenty-four hours or so for the solution to react and expand fully. After your breasts expand, they will be firm and more importantly, will retain the shape of any structure surrounding the skin on your chest during the curing process. I'll provide a sturdy structure at the proper time. "Now, listen carefully. This is the most important aspect in the entire process: For the next seventy-two hours, at least, perhaps more, you have to wear that strong support bra to mold your growing assets into the shape you favor until they are fully stabilized. "If you want your nipples to point upwards sexily, so the top halves of your breasts are delightfully sloped and appealing to look at in the buff, then you'll need that sturdy bra. It may feel confining to you, but it will coax your little girls into providing you the look you desire, a look, I assure you, that will drive most men wild. "Of course, you probably don't know what you want yet, at your stage of development. To play it safe, I want you to remain here for the rest of the day, and tonight. I need to send you for x-rays of your ankles. After I see the x-rays, I want to take a look at them together with you. It may be late evening, by then. The formula inside your inserts will be responding to your body heat by then. At that time, I'll fit you with the sturdy bra to assure your new curves will look exciting to any man lucky enough to view them." I looked down at the two small bumps that looked more the size of golf balls than breasts, and wondered if he was exaggerating a bit. "You may be right doc. I don't want to take a chance of my making a mess of things. It's too important. Can you do both? Make the top halves slope and the bottom halves look real rounded?" He smiled and winked at me. "That's the look I would go for. Yes, I can, and I will." Dr. Anderson's assistant or nurse helped me put my corset back on and get dressed. He then had Ronnie, Maxine and Ronnie's mom take me to a radiologist's office in the same building to have x-rays taken. The x- rays didn't take very long. I was then wheeled back into Dr. Anderson's suite. He came out to the waiting room to tell the four of us he was leaving to attend a dinner, but would return immediately afterwards to direct the fitting of a correct foundation for my budding breasts. "I don't recommend all three of you women wasting your time waiting until I return, and then longer, until I'm done fitting Bernie, Why not let my receptionist bring in something for Bernie for dinner and the rest of you go home?" They responded by complaining about it, but he insisted. "It may take hours before we finish. Rest assured; my physician's assistant will be here the entire time. Nothing improper will happen if you're not here to protect your charge." Ronnie spoke. "We have to return to Michigan tonight, Doc, Maxine and I were hoping we could see the results before we have to leave town." Upon hearing his regrets, they reluctantly left his office, leaving me behind. I was tickled as can be. The three of them chattered like magpies the entire time, giving me the jitters. I felt ill enough from the invasive procedure he had performed and I wasn't in the mood to be talkative. After they left, the receptionist wheeled me into one of the rooms to allow me to lie down and get some rest. I appreciated her thoughtfulness and her assistance in moving me to a gurney. "He said he should be back in about two hours or so. Let me help you get comfortable." She put a pillow behind my head and my knees to elevate my feet and then lowered the lights, telling me I would have a few hours of peace and quiet. She asked if I would like anything for dinner, naming the local fast food emporiums. The mere thought of food made my gut wretch. I was extremely sore. I politely told her I wasn't hungry, but said I would like a drink of water, which she promptly brought to me. I was afraid to eat anything, unsure if I could hold it down or that I might tear open stitches. I was nervous as a mouse in a room full of traps; grateful the woman had dimmed the lights in the room to help me relax. I woke up with a start, hearing his booming voice in the next room. He came in carrying a long line bra with clear, hard plastic cups that looked ominous. The straps that went over the shoulders were three inches wide. The back of it had virtually no elasticity. Instead of little closure clips in front, it had a long row of laces, all the way from the top, just under my neck, all the way down beyond my waistline. "This bra will assure your new swelling mounds will fill out the these breast cups, to a "B" in the exact shape you requested. Now, you'll have to trust me, because they are already beginning to fill out. We don't have time for questions or any changes in how they will be shaped. This is the look almost every maturing young girl wishes she had. The bra will feel very tight on your chest, but that is how it is supposed to feel. You don't want your new boobies to flop around, right now. Do you?" "No, Doctor. I want them to look perky, with a slope to the tops and the nipples pointing upward slightly," I repeated for the third time. "Precisely." He finished fastening the laces until the two halves of the front met. I tried to expand my chest, thinking it would nudge the nuggets into place inside the bra's cups, but the damned thing was so tight it didn't budge the least fraction of an inch. "Patience my dear. Give it time. Let the bra do its job and it will." His physician's assistant brought in a stack of heated blankets and sat down in the corner of the room. Doc Anderson had me lie down on my back on a wheeled hospital gurney, covered up my entire body with the blankets, and asked me, "Comfortable, my dear?" "Yes, doctor. Thank you." "Our building provides us a monitored recovery room available to tenant doctors. Ilene here and I will take you there. She will watch over you until nine. A woman by the name of Karen is in charge of the recovery ward and will be there to watch over you all night. I'll see you in the morning, unless one of the two gives me a call during the night. I want you to not disturb your budding breasts in any way. My P.A. will attach a saline drip now and I'll give you a mild sedative to help you get some sleep." He looked at his watch. "In the morning, I'll check on your progress. I sincerely doubt the position of that brace will change any, if you remain relatively still and on your back. After I check on you in the morning, I'll arrange with Mrs. Evers to have you return to her home. You can then continue convalescing there." The clear plastic cups on the bra were still not full. They looked weird, because unlike any other bra I'd ever seen, the area in the centers of the cups, where nipples should be were removable. Wearing the damn thing was uncomfortable, I was uncomfortable, but I knew that it was required, so I just stared at it until I felt very drowsy and fell asleep. When I awoke the next morning, I was being wheeled back to Dr. Anderson's office suite on a gurney. The catheter was still in my arm and a bottle of saline hung above my head on a pole attached to the gurney pushed along the hallway by his physician's assistant. "Sleep well?" she asked. "I guess. What time is it?" "Time for you to see Dr. Anderson," she replied as she wheeled me into one of his exam rooms, raised the top half of the wheeled gurney and left me there, waiting anxiously. Dr. Anderson came in shortly thereafter, unlaced my bra and removed it. He examined my breasts thoroughly. He smiled and declared that the expansion process went well and the results satisfied his expectations. He then twisted the centers of the clear plastic bra cups, removed them, and had me sit up more on the gurney, so he could place the sturdy bra back onto my chest. Once his P.A. had laced the front of the bra again, he applied a topical anesthetic to my nipples and aureoles. "This will be the final step to providing you with a lovely looking bosom. He then left the room, saying that he had to attend to other patients. When he returned, a short time later, my nipples and aureoles were numb, once again. He then injected them with what he said was collagen, first through the center of each nipple, then, adding tiny increments into the aureoles all the way around in a circle, causing them to plump up, in tiny increments with each successive injection. From the tray along side the gurney, he picked up a pair of suction cups attached to hoses with a bulb on the opposite end. He centered the suction cups over my nipples and began to depress the bulb, slowly. Instead of filling the empty space inside the cups with air, my nipples drew out and began to fill in the emptiness. The bulb depressions were providing vacuum to the suction cups, slowly causing my nipples and aureoles to extend, filling the empty spaces. When the suction cups were almost full of distended flesh, he left again without saying a word, leaving me to wonder how long he'd be gone. What might have been a full hour passed before he returned and opened the valve on the bulb, releasing the vacuum and the strain on the sore flesh on my chest. "There. I'll bet it feels good to have those gone. Eh?" "They hurt a lot at first, but just feel numb right now." They looked huge, even without the vacuum applied. "Fear not. They'll retract, once the inflammation recedes. Then, your nipples will be perfectly extended. You will look sexually aroused to those who come near you when they are not hidden by a sensible bra. In a thin, lacey bra, they will be very obvious. "I want them to remain exposed as they are until I check them for response to palpitation. After that, you'll be ready to be taken home. I'll have my P.A. call Jake's mother in the meantime, to give her ample time, in case she's presently indisposed. I want you to return for another palpitation exam in three days. Then, I won't see you again until two weeks from now. I want you to remain on your back on full bed rest until then." 14. I had breasts! I could hardly believe it! Me! With breasts! After Jake's mom took me to back her house, Jake's house, she immediately put me to bed, recanting Dr. Anderson's advice about my needing rest. I didn't want to lie down. I wanted to be able to look down at the clear plastic cups that held my new protrusions and touch the exposed nipples that looked like pencil erasers sticking out of a pair of cupcakes. It was obvious my aureoles stuck out from the firm tit flesh surrounding them. I was salivating at the sight of them. "Can I please sit up for a while, mother?" She was about to decline, but smiled at me, hearing me call her "mother". "Oh, alright. I don't suppose it will do you any harm, but only part way, so you don't put any strain on your abdomen. It's still sore from his poking around in there, you know." "Yes! I know. You don't have to tell me. The pain down there is worse than the pain in my chest. I feel like I was run over by a truck." I apologized. She responded by telling me she expected me to be irritable. Irritable? I was downright miserable! "No pain, no gain, dearest. Would you like me to give you another pain pill?" "Oh, yes, please. My stomach feels like it's on fire. I didn't know it would be so bad." "Dr. Anderson is a marvelous surgeon. He wouldn't cause you any more pain than was absolutely necessary. You know these pills will make you feel drowsy. Don't you?" "Yes. I don't care. Maybe sleep will take my mind off the throbbing. I ache all over, but mostly in my stomach, not my chest. Do you suppose it's because I haven't eaten?" She said she didn't know for sure, but assured me the drip still attached to my arm was providing sustenance. I slept through the next three days and nights, waking only when she came to change the bags of clear fluid. She doted over me, assisting me to urinate, by using a woman's urine flask. I wanted nothing solid to eat yet, just some juice or water occasionally to quench my awful thirst, and to swallow the continuing pain pills. That Friday, Jake's mother took me back to Dr. Anderson's office for my appointment. He sent me to radiology, where they took x-rays of my chest and abdomen, ignoring my ankles for a change. After reviewing the x-rays he advised me I was healing nicely from my surgery, in fact, better than he expected. He told me my chest and abdomen would continue to be sore for a few more weeks, but he expected it would subside by the time I was due to have the casts removed from my ankles "assuming no undue complications set in," he assured me. I was relieved the pain I was suffering would eventually subside, but began to regret my rash decision to have him give me BREASTS! When he first suggested it to me, I thought they'd be modest, petite, and could be concealed somehow. How would I ever be able to return to work, looking so, so different? I was in a quandary as to what to do until --- - A week later, Jake was still gone. I asked his mother about it and she advised me that he had to fly down to Florida to spell her sister, his aunt, in taking care of his grandparents. That explained his prolonged absence, but it didn't give me much reassurance that he'd appreciate what I had gone and done to myself. I was fraught with worry that he'd change his mind about liking me and throw me out into the cold. "Here, he'd only be in the way, Bernice. Men have no patience. You know that from your own experience. You're all so impetuous! I suspect that's why you signed the paperwork for Dr. Anderson so quickly. Had you read them thoroughly before you signed them, you might have forgone getting your implants. Oh, well! What's done is done. You might as well get used to having them. They'll look gorgeous, you know, perfect size and perfect shape for your height and stature. You make me feel young again, and insanely jealous." I was getting used to her constant coddling. The only hope I had for surviving was to go along with whatever she wanted me to do. I had no clothes to speak of, I had no car, other than the wreck inside their garage, and I was unable to walk, let alone run away. I would have if I could have, but at the same time, I was deathly afraid of being kidnapped like Maxine or molested if I were to venture out on my own. Being bedridden was driving me batty! Yet, I knew I had to bide my time until Jake returned. The hardest part was having his mother want to bathe me, comb out my hair and teach me how to apply makeup. She was constantly at it whenever I was awake. Thank goodness I needed rest and slept a lot. "I always wanted a daughter to raise. So! What did I get? I got four big, strapping sons. Fortunately, one of them: isn't as big as the others, and is a darling sissy, thank goodness. She gave me a chance to vent my frustration over not having any girls. She was a handful when she was growing up and didn't know what she wanted. Was a tomboy half the time, and a prissy missy the other half, unless she was teasing her brothers; acting like a brazen hussy. That boy! He didn't know what he wanted during his romp through puberty. "Why couldn't Ronnie have been polite, quiet and demure, like you were back then? How I wished you were a girl, the way Jake talked about you. You were so sweet, and he was so sweet on you. Did he ever tell you? We, that is, my husband and I, we had to send Jake away to college to help him get you off of his mind. Wait until he sees you now. He'll be beside himself with joy. Of course, you'll probably have your casts off by then." 15. The woman was driving me insane with her constant prattle. She wasn't happy unless she was helping me accept my looking more and more feminine. If I balked at a suggestion, she got huffy and would not talk to me for hours on end. She modeled dozens of dresses, skirts, blouses and lingerie for me, asking me if I liked how they looked on her. How did I know? She had a nice body and all, but she was twice my age, plus. Older women look ---different. She looked trim, prim and proper, not hot and sexy. I wanted hot and sexy. The day had finally arrived! I was going to get my casts removed, hopefully. Jake's mom took me for my x-ray appointment, and then to Dr. Anderson's office. He studied both my ankles' x-rays and then set them aside and looked at my chest x-ray. "Your chest surgery is mending well." He palpitated my nipples. "How does that feel? It felt marvelous! "Mm! Okay, I guess." I didn't want him to stop. It felt so good to me. He looked into my eyes and his lip curled up on one side. "Okay, I guess," He softly said, admonishing me. "You know damned well you like it. Look how they swell in response to my fondling them. Why do you think I gave you such pert nipples? Enjoy having them. That's what they're for. They suit you very well. You've become much lovelier to look at in your short absence over the past few weeks. Have you been wearing that awful support bra ever since you were here last?" "Oh, no. Jake's mom: Mrs. Evers had me put it on for today's visit. She's been dressing me in Basques and bustiers for the most part since my last appointment with you. She likes to dress me up like a cupie doll or something. Fixes my hair, puts on my make up." "Do you like being pampered?" "It's okay, I guess." "No guessing. Honestly, now. How do you feel about being treated like a porcelain doll?" "I enjoy the attention, but I think she enjoys it immensely. She treats me like the daughter she didn't or couldn't have, naturally." "Immensely? Really now. Did you ever use that word before you began to look -pretty?" "No, I don't think so. I guess it's not something a guy would say. But somehow, it feels right to use the word though. I don't know why. I guess I'm getting used to looking as I do now, having - breasts and all. It must be the hormones. I feel mellow all the time, like I think a real girl acts. I like wearing makeup now, and silky clothes. I came here wearing a skirt. I can hardly wait until I can wear nylons, too." "Well, let's have a look. Shall we?" He picked up an x-ray of one of my ankles. "See the line here. That's the fracture. See the faint bump surrounding the fracture on the outside of the bone? That is how a mending bone looks. It's still fragile, but I believe it can hold your weight, if you're careful and you concentrate your weight on the balls of your feet, and off of your ankles. You haven't walked in over a month. It won't be easy for a while if you don't keep your weight centered on the balls of your feet. Pay attention to the pain level. Start out slow using a walker. Once you feel comfortable, progress to using a cane. Then next time I see you, I want you to bring a pair of comfortable fitting heels for you to wear home. They'll help you to keep your weight off your ankles. Try wearing only heels for a month or so. I'm sure you'll agree it will be less of a strain on your leg muscles. "Aren't you going to remove my casts today?" I moaned. He took my hands in his. "I'm afraid not. If your thyroid condition was normal, I might have considered it, because your attitude is excellent, but your bones' mending hasn't progressed as far along as I had hoped. I'm very sorry. Truly, I am." I broke out in tears. I was devastated. I was looking forward to it, and now, the casts had to stay on for another two weeks. I didn't know what to say to him, so I just bawled like a baby. He leaned forward and took me into his arms. "There, there, now. It's only for two more weeks. The time will pass quickly. Before you know it, you'll be dancing again. In the meantime, I want you to practice putting all your weight onto the balls of your feet, and not onto your heels. With Mrs. Evers' experience, you're sure to get used to walking that way. She was a tremendous help to her husband when he lost the use of his feet. She'll know what to teach you. Try to be patient with her. She's a darling woman if you let her take charge." "Two more weeks! I don't know if I'll be able to stand her constant talking and primping. She's so overbearing." "Now, now. Try to look toward the bright side. You have a very delicate bone structure. Be glad that she is there to help you. I'll give you a prescription for calcium supplements and a mild sedative to help the time to pass more quickly and easily. "Try to do whatever Mrs. Evers asks of you. Keep in mind: it is temporary. Eventually, with taking the calcium supplements and the proper conditioning, your bone structure will improve in time. I want you to be real nice to her. She's doing her best to help you adapt to feminine mannerisms. I notice that you are progressing nicely in that regard." "Why is that necessary, doc? I'm sure I told you before that I'm only dressing up like a girl and acting feminine because of an agreement I made with Jake Evers, so he would repay a kindness and, - oh, never mind. I shouldn't really be discussing that with you." 16. The mild sedatives he prescribed helped the following two weeks pass more quickly, and I did my best to follow the suggestions Mrs. Evers made. She insisted I call her "mother" whenever we talked, or I had to ask her a question. It was painful to put my weight down onto my legs after being off of them for so long, well over a month. Gradually, I was able to negotiate my way from the wheelchair to the throne on my own, without bothering her. The medications I was taking made me feel thirsty all the time. I drank a lot of water, and consequently had to visit the john frequently. Wearing skirts instead of shorts helped with the inconvenience somewhat. I was able to spend less time in bed, and more time sitting in the wheelchair, helping her prepare meals and the like. Four to five times a day, she had me stand up to test my legs, starting out with just a few steps and progressing to walking across the room on the balls of my feet, aided by the steep angle of the casts and the small, round rubber protrusions beneath them. I got the hang of it after the first week and was able to clumsily walk around during the second week. The repeated daily practice sessions passed the time away, and before I knew it, I was finally due to return to Dr. Anderson. Are your ready?" "Oh, am I! I can hardly wait. Being helpless is murder, doc." "You're not out of the woods, quite yet, my young friend. Don't be so impatient." He and his P.A. transferred me to the exam table and put my legs into the built in stirrups. His P.A. folded a sheet until it was an inch thick and placed it under my right ankle. He was holding what looked like a portable high-speed dental drill with a tiny circular saw blade. Holding the cast on my right foot firmly in one hand, he lowered goggles over his eyes and began to cut through the thin fiberglass of the cast, on the instep side of my ankle, never once touching my skin. The ground up fiberglass made the room smell horrible. He did the same to the outside of the cast on my right ankle. As the cast separated, I saw that a heavy layer of gauze was left behind. His P.A. found the end of the gauze, and started to unwrap the gray gauze from my ankle. My ankle smelled and looked awful! She washed it down gently and carefully with rubbing alcohol while Dr. Anderson left to attend to one of his other patients. "In a few days, your heavy calluses will dry up and crumble away. It's important to soak them in warm water and keep them clean until new calluses form. If they crack and bleed, have someone bandage them to prevent infection. Dr. Anderson will prescribe an antiseptic and an antibiotic." He returned and repeated the cycle on the other cast. Free, free at last! I shouted in my mind. I couldn't wait to set them on the floor. I had anticipated the casts' removal, as I had brought slippers with me to wear, once my left foot was also washed and bandaged. They were women's slippers with a modest heel about two inches high. Dr. Anderson and the P.A. helped me to lift my legs out of the stirrups. Surprisingly, I had no strength in my leg muscles. "Remember to keep your weight on the balls of your feet at first, say for at least the first two weeks." My legs were hanging off the side of the exam table. With their assistance, I slowly, carefully transferred my weight from my butt onto my slipper covered feet. It was painful, but tolerable. I hobbled clumsily for the first few steps, until I got my bearings, ready to sit back down on the exam table if I had to. With their help, I managed to cross the room, bent over and walking precariously, leaning on the doctor for courage more than for support. He congratulated me and had me return to the wheelchair. "Enough for now. I want you to practice With Mrs. Evers every half hour until you can walk by yourself unassisted. Stop at the receptionist's desk and book your next appointment two weeks from now." I shook his hand and he kissed my cheek. I was happy as a lark. My ankles had healed! I spent the entire week trying on different shoes, walking around the house as best I could with "mother's" help, of course. She was right behind me at every turn, in case I slipped on the tile floor in the bathroom or kitchen. Truth be known, I had more trouble handling the carpeted bedrooms and living room. I had to chant to myself. Toe, heel, toe, heel, or I'd catch the leading edge of the heel, by walking heel, toe, like I did before I wore heels. It took getting used to, but stepping toe first, then heel soon became second nature, once I associated my manner of walking with wearing a skirt, with my forelegs bare. Mrs. Evers explained why women wore nylons. "The sleek material helps remind you to place one foot directly in front of the other to improve your gracefulness while walking. "Remember, as a young woman, your feminine assets, all of them are always on display. Walking is a sensual art. Men's clothing hides their sexuality. Women's clothing does the opposite. It intentionally accentuates our charms. Therefore we do our best to exaggerate them, and bring them to the fore. You must be conscious of your appearance at all times, now that your breasts will prevent you from dressing up as a man again. You can never slouch or look disheveled. It's very unbecoming of a pretty young lady like you." What she said about my being unable to dress as a man again finally hit home. What had I done? "Is it necessary. I had intended to go back to my old ways, as soon as I can, once my pact with Jake is accomplished. Dressing like this is like living in a fish bowl. Can't I at least wear a pair of slacks around the house?" "Remember. We have nosy neighbors. Do you want them to detect your --- little fault?" "No, no, of course not." "What if Jake wants to show you off to his friends? Don't you want to look impressive?" "Of course, I do. Okay, okay, no pants for me until further notice. I'll do whatever you ask of me, mother. I don't want to be a disappointment to either of you." "Wonderful! Oh, by the way. I called Jake this morning to tell him your casts were being removed today, and how nice looking your enhancements turned out. He wants to come home to see for himself. Do you feel you're ready to receive him?" "My cock twitched at the thought of Jake going down on me. "Do you think he'll like how I look now? Gee! I hope he will." "I'm sure he will! You look darling. I only hope you can remember to speak softly, and to raise your register a little to sound more ladylike. All men like girls who sound sexy. Once you master speaking softly with greater elocution you'll have his chums from high school eating their hearts out, once he introduces you to them." "Oh!" I hadn't thought about that eventuality. In stark reality, I had a lot of mannerisms to perfect. "Do you think he'll really want me to meet his friends soon? I'm still so new at acting femininely. I don't want to give away the show and make a mockery of Jake. He'd never be able to live it down, if they figure out who I really am." "That's why I'd like you to listen to some feminine elocution CD's, before he arrives. Once he's back, I won't be able to stay long. I can't burden my sister with caring for my parents without her taking a break. Ronnie still hasn't perfected his feminine mannerisms. He likes to flaunt the fact that he's still a boy where it counts. That may be okay for a homosexual community up in Michigan, but down here in bigot land you'll have to pass muster. Pretending isn't good enough. It will have to come naturally, or you'll slip up." "I know. Give me those CD's. I promise that I'll do my very best. You can count on it." "Good girl." She smiled as she handed me the CD player. I didn't know the disk in it held subliminal conditioning messages to make me want to remain en femme longer than I had planned. I hobbled to my room and lied down on my bed to listen to the recording, My mind was soon consumed with a burning desire to become full adept at impersonating a woman for Jake, even to the point of kissing him in public and making love with him in private. The powerful suggestions, though subliminal, almost insistent, that I consistently behave like a woman should, a polished young lady in public, and a nymphomaniac in the bedroom. The same detailed message repeated itself over and over, barely audible, as the soft music lulled me to sleep. The messages continued long after the music faded away. I was being conditioned, and I knew it. I just didn't know the conditioning would make me want to have sex with Jake, taking his manhood deep inside me as any woman would want to do with a man, except I'd do it in the only receptacle available, other than my mouth, and there, as well. I awoke much later, maybe even days later, not knowing how long I had been asleep. I lay dreamily, thinking of Jake's powerful, muscular body, unlike my frail form, wanting it, craving it, willing to do anything that he asked of me. Why? I didn't know. I only knew that I was possessed with a deep hunger to please Jake any way I possibly could. In the dark, quiet night, I heard talking, loud talking, perhaps arguing. "Are you sure she is ready?" One voice said. "As ready as she'll ever be. The recordings have seen to that." Recordings? I sat bolt upright! Was that Jake's voice? I was sure that it was. I wanted to jump out of bed and go down to greet him with open arms. I had to tell him I was deeply in love with him and show him how I had changed my appearance to please him, so he would embrace me and make passionate love to me. Damned be prejudices! I was hot for his body. It mattered not an iota to me that we were both male. I needed a man to care for me, provide for me, warm my bed and take me into his massive arms, bending me to his will. Nothing else held any importance to me. To gain his love, I was willing to give my life for him. I would yield to his command, regardless of what he asked of me. In the dark of night, he came to me. I felt his bulk on the bed. It took my breath away. He had returned to me. I felt his hand on one of my soft, new breasts! Exquisite! He knew! He explored, bathing my nipples with his moist breath, taking mine away. "Nice, very nice." He whispered. "Anderson did a great job, just like I wanted." Like he wanted? I wondered. "I'm glad you like them. Don't I deserve a kiss from you?" His lips engulfed mine. After a while, he came up for breath. "Your lips feel so full. He traced the outline with a fingertip. "Nice. I'll bet you can work wonders with these lips." I knew exactly what he meant and I salivated, wanting the same. I kissed him. I wanted love, not talk! He kissed me back, over and over. Ecstasy! It felt wonderful to have his warm body so close to mine on the bed. I tried to snuggle into his arms, but he had other ideas. His lips were tracing a path down my neck, first to one eraser shaped nipple, with its bulging areola, then to the other. His tongue flexing on the hard, erect nubbin made me shudder delightfully. "Where have you been all my life?" I asked. "Waiting patiently for our paths to cross again darling." He proceeded to kiss his way down to my navel and then beyond. I was beside myself with anticipation. The big moment had arrived. Was he was going to do it? I hoped so! If he balked, all of what I had done for his benefit would have been in vain. He palmed my groin, moving my panties aside. "Lovely pudendum, darling. It looks so - inviting. Mind if I have a taste?" "Do it. Please, I've waited so long for this moment. Please do it to me now!" His lips surrounded my protruding cock head. They seemed to be so large. Or, was it that my cock head had shrunk so small. What did it matter? He was finally making love to it. I squirmed around on the bed beneath him. He was making me delirious with passion for him. I wanted him to consume me, make me his woman, and take me to orgasm land with his persistent lips. It felt indescribably rewarding, as my feeble discharge weakly leaked out of the head of my diminished cock. Regardless! It felt absolutely marvelous to me! "I hope you enjoyed that. It was okay. It wasn't as bad as I expected, but it was okay. Don't expect me to make a habit of doing it, though. Alpha males aren't supposed to give head. They just get it. You could have never been an Alpha, like me. You're much better suited for the new role I hope you'll fulfill for me. Do you want to be my main squeeze?" "Oh, yes. I can't think of doing anything more exciting!" I hugged him tightly, thrilled to hear that he wanted me. I sure wanted him! "Okay. That's settled. I understand my mother has had you on a liquid diet. Is that right?" "I guess so. I've been drinking lots of water and juice lately according to Dr. Anderson's orders, or so your mom says. I'm trying to lose some weight too, so my clothes will fit me better." "In that case, I think it's time I take your cherry. Think you're up to the challenge?" I thought he had just done that and was expecting a repeat performance. "I guess so." "Good!" He propped me up on two pillows and spread my legs apart. "Here goes." I felt him apply a cream, adding moistness on my anus. "Wait a minute! Oh, no! Please! I didn't know that was what you intended to do to me! Please, stop! Jake! Please!" "Why? It's not supposed to hurt bad after a few minutes. Be brave for me, darling. I can't help it if I'm so well endowed." I wasn't ready for it. His initial thrust felt as if his cock was tearing the insides of me apart. "OWWWWWWWWWW! Stop! Take it out! It's too damn big! You're tearing me apart!" As he lifted my legs onto his shoulders, I spread my arms out to the sides. I felt like he was impaling me with a baseball bat. "Ow, you're huge! It hurts. It hurts badly! Take it out! Please, take it out of me! I wasn't expecting you to penetrate me there, no yet." "You knew I was this large. Settle down, now. Settle down. Get used to having it inside of your butt, dear. It's going to be there a lot from now on, so you might as well get used to my shoving it up your little love tunnel. Man, you are so tight! Oh, yes. Do that again." I was squeezing down hard, trying to expel him. "Do it again." I squeezed. "Again!" I did as he asked but it hurt. I wanted him to stop. It hurt too much! "I can't. It hurts too much." "Then, relax." I tried. "I said, relax." I tried, but it was no use. I couldn't relax. I knew that he would want to fuck me someday, but not so soon. I also wanted him to fuck me, I really did, but it was simply too painful. "I'm sorry. I want to please you Jake, but it hurts too much." He pulled out of me and I felt a cold spray on my anus, then felt a finger penetrating me. "You really are a virgin. You're tight as a drum." I felt a second finger enter me, then a third. Finally, he coated his fingers in something very slick and stuck all three of them in again, all at the same time. I squirmed around under him, still in pain, but less of it. "Mm. That's better. What did you use?" "First a desensitizing spray, and then anal ease, a natural water based lubricant. I'll go soft if my cock touches you now, so I'll have to put on a rubber." He got up and went to a drawer in his dresser. I heard him unwrap it. "Here, you put it on for me. Use your lips. It's lubricated, so it might taste funny to you." After where his thick cock had just been, I thought it was the lesser of two evils. I placed the rubber over the head of his cock and urged it onto the shaft of his swollen penis with my tongue. His cock was so long, it was in my throat by the time I was able to roll it all the way to its base. "That felt great, for me, but I'll bet this will feel even better for you, once you're used to getting fucked in the poop chute." "Don't call it that. Love tunnel sounds much more romantic." "I'll call it what I like. Here it comes ready or not." I braced myself for it. "Don't tighten up, it'll only hurt worse. Try to relax." I tried and he slipped his thick cock inside of me, stretching me terribly. "It still hurts." "I know dear one, but I've been told it gets better fairly quickly. Please try to relax, so I don't hurt you. I don't want to hurt you if I can avoid it, but you must learn to cope with my making love to you this way. I've been fantasizing about this moment for years." With that having been said, he sank his cock all the way into my butt in one long, slow thrust. I couldn't believe how thick he was. It felt like he was shoving a telephone pole into me. I gasped, trying to tolerate the pain. He raised his hips and withdrew. I thought the pain would subside, but it didn't. It grew more intense. He pushed forward again, impaling me for the second time. I gasped again, but felt that the pain had lessened. "Go slow. Please, go slow. It still hurts." He withdrew very slowly, inch by inch, allowing me to flex my inner muscles and relax from the feeling of total emptiness. "Okay, I'm okay. I'm ready for it now." He sank back into my anal passage again, taking his time, being considerate, thankfully. When he withdrew, I regretted being empty again. As if I was possessed by the devil, I wanted his cock deep inside me again. Okay. That wasn't so bad. Now, give it to me." He took less time pushing it back in, and then left it in there until I was breathing more normally. He began making small thrusts in and out. The pain was still there, but I began to experience a strange feeling. I asked him to slow down and take longer strokes. He did. It didn't hurt as much. "Longer." He pulled out almost all of the way; then pushed it back in, a little quicker that time. "Do it like that again." He did, and did it again. "Oh, my! It doesn't hurt so much now. Fuck me, Jake. Fuck me harder if you want to." He took over from there, gradually increasing the depth and pace. I thought he had been all the way in when he first started to fuck me, but he had been holding back until I got used to having his big sausage inside. I asked him to let me remove my ankles from his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his wide middle. By doing so, I was able to hold my hands around his neck and lift myself up to buck back against his thrusts. In no time at all, my legs were around his thick thighs and I had leverage to give back as good as I was getting. He forced it in as hard as he could and rooted around inside of me, massaging my prostate, causing me to orgasm, again and again. I could feel my goop as it trickled out on my "pudendum" and wet his groin hairs. His wiry groin hairs tickled my small cock head something fierce. When I thought we were through, he took his weight off of his arms and pinned me to the mattress. "Ugh! Ugh, ugh, ugh. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, you big brute." I loved the feeling, and from what I could tell, so did he. "Arghhhhh!" He screamed out as I felt his cock pulse inside his rubber, inside of me. He slammed into me one more time and held his cock there, deep inside my nether passage. I hung on to his neck for dear life, hoping he wouldn't ever tire of mating with me. "Whew! That was something, Jake. I had no idea having anal sex could feel that good." He turned me over, took me into his beefy arms and kissed me. "You're telling me. Your tight, little hole squeezed around my stiff cock like a vice. We can explore other things if you'd like to, but we have to do anal sex again as soon as you're feeling up to it." "I don't think I'll be up to it for a while. It feels like you shoved a quart jar up my butt." "A quart jar? I never heard that expression before! I must have cum a full quart into the rubber I'm wearing, but most of it must have leaked out. My balls are soaked with it." "Maybe, but some of that spunk is mine, I think. I had a couple of orgasms while you were sticking your disk to me. I can't believe how good it felt when you moved your big cock around inside me. It hit a very sensitive spot and it made me erupt. I didn't get hard or anything, but it felt just as good as any orgasm I've ever had before." "You told me you were a virgin!" "I was up until now, except for masturbation." "Well, you're mine now, so you might as well get used to having me plow your furrow for you. I can't believe how tight you are! That was the best fuck I ever had!" His admission got me to thinking. "How was it compared to the woman you laid?" "You are the best, by far! No comparison! No bad smell, either! Once you learn how to douche, I'll have to taste a sample of that. Would you like that? Want me to eat you out?" "I've never heard of someone wanting to do that!" "You know me. I've never kissed anyone's ass before, but if you want me to, I'll be glad to oblige. It's the least I could do, after what you've gone and done for me." He wrapped his big arms around me, leaned over and sucked hard on one of my nipples. "These are the prettiest tits I've ever seen, on a girl or a guy." He leaned further over me, to plant the same kind of kiss on the other nipple, twisting my body around easily in his arms, so the two peaks perked up in the same way. It felt terrific, so marvelous, I was happy I chose to have Dr. Anderson give them to me. "Do you really like them?" "Well, I haven't really seen them in the light, but from what I can tell from kissing them here in the dark, they are not too big, nor are they too small. They're perfect in size and in shape. I'm getting hard again from just thinking about them! Let's take a quick shower together, so we can '69'! I want to fuck your breasts, next!" He led me into the shower stall with the seat and multiple showerheads, walked in with me and sat down, spinning me around to face him. He turned on the taps, set the water temperature to hot and examined my body more closely in the light inside the bathroom. "Wow! They're gorgeous! He had me straddle his lap and sit on his thighs with my legs spread far apart. He kissed and touched, manipulating my nipples until they stood out on my chest like a pair of beacons. I shuddered in sheer delight! "Oh, suck them for me, Jake. It feels so nice to have your tongue run circles around them while your fingers play with the other." "I'll bet it feels as good as your lips feel on the head of my cock when you do me, girl. Wait until we do a '69' together. You're going to love being my steady. You've got the best of both worlds. My mother sure can pick them!" "Your mother? What do you mean?" He took a break from kissing my nipples and just played with them while he spoke. "She knew I was AC/DC back when we attended high school together. She told me then that you would be the perfect mate for me, someday. She was right, you know. Mothers must have a sixth sense about such things.