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Prayers Are Answered by Caroline J Bradley Chapter one The quiet of a home office in the suburbs of Oxford was broken by the warble of a mobile 'phone. "Hello?" "Jim, it's David, I must speak to you right now - can you come over to the office?" "No, I can't I'm too busy!" "Too busy - your latest article has to be finalised by this afternoon if it is to make the next edition, for Christ's sake, Jim, get a grip and get a move on. If I haven't had your latest missive by 3.30 this afternoon, I'll write the bloody thing myself!!" The phone went dead, Jim smiled - David always panicked at the last minute but the latest edition of the short stories he produced for the magazine was almost finished. It would be ready by lunchtime, he re- read the title "A short walk in the Shopping Mall" by Belinda Stone and proceeded to do some tidying up of the prose. Jim had been a writer, and consequently on the breadline, ever since he went to University in Durham, UK. He was a staff reporter on the London Guardian for a while commenting on political issues, but he had filled in one week for the fashion section and was an instant success, much to the annoyance of the female fashionistas, he was naturally adept at writing on both men's and women's fashions. Belinda Stone (his byline) was officially born then although Jim had always been interested to nurture a female side to his personality. The years had been kind, ongoing writing and journalist assignments had led to writing a few books in both his male name and as Belinda, this in turn had delivered some sense of financial security and with it a wife, Jennifer, but sadly no children despite IVF. They were happy in their existence in a rambling mid-30's house in a small village south of Oxford, Jennifer worked as a television executive in London and was always out early and home late. Jim had slowly weaned himself off working in offices and took more time in his study to write and compose articles which paid the mortgage and kept them in reasonable financial health. The fact that Belinda Stone did not exist or, worse, was actually a man, was kept secret from her readers despite many invites to open shops or to endorse makeup or clothing products, often for very fat fees. It was one of those invitations, two years ago, which set Jim and Jennifer talking; Jim mused on the beginnings of a particularly fruitful stage in his writing career... "Hey, look, Jen, Jo Malone want to launch a range of cosmetics and they want Belinda to write on them. Seems like they are prepared to offer a fat fee, but it comes with a requirement that Belinda signs an affidavit that she uses their stuff." Jim smiled. "They'll offer that much!" Jennifer held the letter, which had been sent to Jim's agent, Stephanie. "For that money I'll use it!" She smiled, then a twinkle appeared in her eye. "Why don't you just write back and say yes, after all Jo Malone does really classy stuff." "But I can't, it wouldn't be professional and I am sure they need a lawyer to attest to the fact that Belinda uses their stuff, and remember, I am Belinda." "Oh, I do know that, but maybe..." Jennifer trailed off and smiled quizzically at her husband of 15 years. "What?" Jim felt uncomfortable in her appraising gaze. "Come on love, I know you like wearing my things when I am not here. I've known for years and even found your little cache of clothes and wigs and things" She smiled, Jim was astounded. "But, how, why didn't you say?" Jim thought it best not to argue when Jennifer had that look in her eyes. "Listen, there's no harm and it's quite cute really, you needing to express your feminine side to be able to write as Belinda - and you do write well with a woman's perspective. So, why not say yes to Jo Malone, try their stuff, sign a little piece of paper to say you have, and pocket, or should I say purse the money." Jim smiled, "no harm really is it - Jen I do love you." That evening, Jim dressed as Belinda and showed her to Jennifer for the first time, she was positive and also critical and commented that to pass as a woman would need some work. Encouraging Jim to come to bed in panties and a silk nightie, they made love with an excitement and passion not felt since the early years of their relationship. "Mmm," purred Jennifer, "I like that, we should do that more often." She slipped rapidly to sleep with a smile on her red lips. Two days later Jim had called his agent to confirm their agreement and a contract had arrived from Jo Malone, he read the salient parts to Jennifer. "This clause states that Belinda has to have the goods applied by a registered beauty therapist and that photographs will be taken, but not for publicity purposes. She also has to have a lawyer present to confirm the process took place, oh well nice try, I'll just say no then." "Not so fast, this is too easy. Listen, I know Anita's Hair and Beauty salon uses Jo Malone and Anita has been doing my hair for ages, I bet she'll be up for this for a good tip and some free goodies from Jo Malone. Only problem is the lawyer." Jennifer had the bit between her teeth, "I guess Howard is not a good idea?" Howard was the family's lawyer and could bore for England, he knew of Belinda but would not contemplate anything slightly risqu?. "No, and anyway he is not independent, but how will we get away with this?" Jim looked perplexed as Jennifer grinned whilst lifting the telephone and dialling, she was soon chatting to Anita and Jim cringed as the peals of high laughter echoed around the room. Resigned to his fate, Jim retired to his office and phoned his agent, Stephanie. "Well love, I don't know how you're going to pull this off, but I want to see the result and to protect my 15% fee, let me know, I'll call Jo Malone and suggest that they send their lawyer." Letters and contracts were exchanged and a date fixed for the event in four weeks' time. Jim and Jennifer visited Anita's after hours later that week for a once-over, Anita was business - like but had a twinkle in her eye. "So, you are the great Belinda Stone, I must say whilst I do not agree with much you write, you certainly had me fooled, I'd have never guessed that you were Jenni's husband." The women conferred and agreed dates for Jim's return. Once home, Jennifer dragged her husband upstairs. "Right my dear, off with those clothes whilst I run you a bath, Belinda Stone's training starts here." Jim shrugged, secretly quite pleased with events. In the bathroom, the hot water smelt of perfume and Jennifer had an array of bottles lined up on the shelf. "First up, put these on." She handed him a pair of bikini bottoms. Jim struggled into the tight material which only just covered his awakening manhood. "Not yet, dear," she smiled at his growing bulge, "now go stand in the shower cubicle." He did as he was told and she advanced with a tub of foul-smelling Nair hair remover and a spatula. Liberally coating his legs and torso she made him stand for 15 minutes before turning on the shower, he winced at the colder water but, as it warmed up, he watched the drain hole fill with body hair. He was then led to the bath and encouraged to soak whilst she applied masks to his face and shaped his toe and fingernails. "Anita will do these properly a day or so before the big day, but you better get used to wearing nail polish and long nails." Whilst he soaked, she fiddled with his hands, applying medium length clear acrylic nails with a drop of superglue. Once stuck tight, she fussed and shaped them until she was satisfied. Jim had used false nails before, but always the ones with the sticky pads on which fell off so easily, these felt almost permanent. Getting out of the bath, Jennifer handed him a tube of moisturiser and bade him to apply it liberally all over his body, it tingled as the cold cream touched his now hairless skin. The bikini bottoms now housed a huge bulge in the front, Jennifer eyed it with interest. "We'll have to find a way to tame him, won't we?" She grinned and took him by the hand to the bedroom where she made him take the bikini bottom off and replace it with a pair of cream silk knickers. Going to a drawer, she removed a bra and a large box containing silicone breast forms. "These are much better than the cheap ones you have been using and they can be stuck in place." With that she placed the bra around his chest and fastened it before rotating it frontward and tightening the straps, she then carefully checked the position of the bra and used an eyebrow pencil to trace the inside of the cups on his skin. She then sprayed an alcohol like substance on his chest and on the reverse of the forms, allowing it to dry before spraying a strong silicone glue onto the back of each form and carefully positioned it onto the traced outlines on his chest before pressing home firmly. Jim immediately felt the added weight as the forms altered his centre of gravity. "OK, Belinda, I'm going to get used to calling you that, now sit here whilst I paint your nails." Jim sat on the vanity unit stool and watched with fascination as Jennifer used dividers on his toes before painting them with two coats of a Givenchy deep red varnish. This was repeated on his new fingernails and she admonished him not to touch anything for at least 10 minutes whilst they dried. Turning him to look at her, she brandished tweezers and proceeded to shape his bushy eyebrows into a more feminine arch. "There, that's much better, now I think that's enough for one evening. Here, let me help you put these on, try not to smudge the nail varnish there's a dear." Jennifer handed over a long peach satin nightgown and a matching negligee, she then found a pair of flattish mules in a leopard print fabric. "I know you have used heels, but practice makes perfect. Let's look at you, do me a twirl." Jim complied and saw a look of consternation on Jennifer's bow as he completed the turn. "You'll need a lot more work, moisturisers and so on will help, but it's your hair I am worried about." Jim smiled and walked over to his closet, revelling in the feeling of the weight of his new breastforms as he walked and the swish of the satin nightie against his soft, hairless legs. He brought out his cache of clothing and extracted his favourite auburn wig, Jennifer smiled and took it from him to brush and tease it into shape then she pulled it on and fussed with brush and comb until she seemed satisfied. "Darling, you look very, very good and I am sure Anita's professionalism will add the final touches. But you've got to stay that way now until the day comes so that you are 100% used to all these female things. We'll need to get you an outfit for the day and some things to wear between now and then, most of my stuff is too small and your own clothes hoard is a bit too tarty for day-to-day wear. Jim felt wonderful, relaxed and very feminine, as well as very, very turned on. The front of his peach nightie showed the bulge in his tight panties and Jennifer gently took his manicured hand and led him upstairs. Without saying a word, she made him take off his negligee and then took off her clothes until all she wore was a brief pair of black silk panties. Guiding Jim towards the bedroom mirror, she made him stand to admire the reflection of a soft smooth man in transition to the female state, she then knelt in front of him and ducked under the folds of his peach nightgown. Jim groaned as he felt her nails slipping up and down his panties, then he sucked in his breath as she expertly pulled his engorged member from the tight embrace of the satin and licked the end. She tasted his pre-cum as she slid his length into her hot mouth, Jim watched his reflection in fascination as he saw the outline of Jenni under his (yes, his) nightie pleasuring him whilst his (yes, his) breastforms were heaving up and down in excitement. His eyes closed in ecstasy as he rapidly reached climax under Jenni's expert control and he let out a squeal as he came fully into her hot mouth. Jenni tucked his rapidly shrinking member back into the folds of the panties and then emerged from her peach tent, grinning. "Well, there's a clever girl then and you are still all clean. Now it's my turn, you really turn me on like that, I had never thought of myself as a lesbian, but I sure fancy you Belinda." She smiled and took Belinda by the hand, she was maintaining her promise to think of her husband as Belinda, laying down on the bed, breasts heaving and nipples erect, she guided Belinda in the soft sensual touching and gentle squeezing that had her nipples hard and painful and her pussy moist and pliant. Rolling over Jenni smiled to find Belinda's bulge had reappeared, she pushed her feminised husband onto his back and lifted the folds of his nightgown. Releasing the now hardened cock from the panties, she pulled her own tight satin to one side and expertly guided the cock into her hot waiting pussy. Belinda moaned and Jenni started to buck and rock up and down on the shaft embedded in her tight embrace, moments later Jenni snorted and then held her breasts tight together as she lifted her head high and moaned. "Oh yes, my love, yes, yes Belindaaaaaaaah." Simultaneously, Belinda came again, lifting his hips and driving deep into his wife, causing her to orgasm again. They collapsed, exhausted and lay in each other's arms. "Belinda my love, tomorrow we start making you into the woman we both want you to be." Jenni sighed and was quickly asleep, Belinda felt so wonderful and satisfied and, yes, feminine as she drifted into soft perfumed sleep. Chapter Two Jim awoke to the sound of the shower door closing. "Good morning sleepy head, how's my Belinda this morning?" naked, Jennifer smiled at him as he came to and realised he was in bed, in a sexy long nightie and tight panties. As he moved, he felt the weight of the breastforms as they moved with him. He smiled. "Just wonderful my love, last night was exquisite." He stretched languorously, feeling the soft satin of the nightgown move against his smooth hairless body. "You better sort yourself out and have a close shave, I've put out some creams and so on for you to keep your sexy skin smooth and some perfumed shower gels, a girl has to smell her best." Jennifer smiled. Showered and shaved, Belinda looked quizzically at the array of moisturisers, Jennifer had set them out in order, a firming cream, a day long moisturiser, eye firming gels and the like. He also spotted some wild yam cream, reading the label it seemed to contain natural progesterones, female hormones. "Yes, try that on your face, it might just reduce your beard growth enough so that you can look more natural for your big test in 2 weeks' time." Belinda remembered the contract with Jo Malone cosmetics and his need to pass a lawyer's eyes to ensure that Belinda Stone, the famous women's author could pick up an obscene amount of money just to write that she used their products. No-one outside a close circle of business associates knew that Belinda Stone was actually a man and they were trying their best to keep that secret, mainly because of the promise of some significant cash! "Now, I've laid some day clothes out for you, but we'll need to get you set up properly, I'll leave you to get ready." Jennifer had thrown on a loose pair of jeans and a T-shirt over her top, "Breakfast in, er, maybe half an hour?" She giggled and tripped downstairs. Naked, but feeling the weight of the stuck-on breastforms, Belinda firstly picked up a white underwired bra and then struggled a bit with his unfamiliar long red nails, but had enough practice to fasten it in the front first, then twist it around, put her arms though the straps and nestle the silicone forms in the cups. Next a pair of full white cotton and satin panties, carefully tucking his manhood between his legs. A pair of light tan tights (pantyhose) beckoned and he carefully rolled them over each smooth leg, taking care not to gag the lycra on his nails. Next up was a long-sleeved scoop necked T-shirt which fitted well but showed off an alarming amount of cleavage, he quickly pulled on a pair of stretch cotton trousers in a soft pink colour, they were Jennifer's but he had worn them before and, although a bit tight, they fitted fine. His painted toenails could still be seen through the fabric of the tights, so he slid his feet into some open-tied sandals and took ages to do up the buckle as the fingernails were so difficult to get used to. Sitting at the vanity mirror, he smiled at his clear face with the newly-shaped eyebrows and started to put on some basic makeup. Years of practice paid off and a light concealer plus some even lighter foundation smoothed the edges, eyes underlined in a soft brown Kohl were emphasised with a brown mascara and a gentle application of a darker mustard colour on the eyelids. Satisfied at the reflection, a pink blusher changed the shape of the face and a coat of soft deep red lipstick was expertly blotted before a second coat was added. Finally, a light dusting of translucent powder removed any unwanted shine. Belinda brushed out the wig, and pulled it on teasing out stray hairs and shaping the wig carefully. Searching through Jennifer's jewellery box, a gold chain necklace and matching bracelet were eventually fastened in place but no amount of forcing could get any of her rings on his much larger fingers, a similar problem with earrings as Jennifer had pierced ears and Jim had never bought clip-ons for himself. "Wow, very good, you look better than me, turn around and let's see." Jennifer's eyes twinkled as she surveyed the results of Belinda's work. "Mmm, OK, yes, maybe..." "What??" Jim / Belinda enquired. "And we'll have to do something about that voice, Mmm." "Stop Mmming and tell me what you're thinking?" Belinda demanded. "We've got a lot of work to do, but the start isn't half bad now, sit down and have some breakfast whilst I make a list," Jennifer was all business-like and smiled when Belinda looked forlornly at the mug of black coffee, orange juice and a few fruit segments. "Well, what do you expect, we need to get your weight down a bit as well," Jennifer donned her reading glasses and, pencil in hand, started to jot down a list which eventually covered three pages of notepaper. Twenty minutes later, Jennifer left Belinda to tidy up the breakfast things whilst she ran upstairs and returned, in moments, with a light fawn jacket and a tan shoulder-length handbag over one arm; on the other arm was a large black leather organiser bag and a cream jumper. "OK, girl, time to go." "No way, not like this, not yet." Belinda panicked. "You've got to get used to this and how are we going to get things for you without you're being there to try things on. Anyway, it will be fun and no-one will suspect, especially if you keep quiet. Just a moment," Jennifer went to her sewing basket and retrieved a tape measure; handing Belinda the notepad she quickly measured waist, under bust and bust size and hips. "Mmm, yes, you need some hips but I guess you are a size 16 top and maybe the same on the bottom, what's your shoe size?" "8 but these sandals fit and they're your size 6." Belinda glanced down at the strappy sandals, her toenails visible. "Yes dear, but you can't wear strappy shoes all the time." Jennifer put the measure and the notepad into her capacious shoulder bag, helped Belinda into the jacket and popped a small bag of tissues and a soft purse into the tan leather handbag. Grabbing Belinda by the hand, she lifted the car keys off the hallway table and blipped the remote to open the car doors, opening the front door a quick check revealed no prying neighbours so, slightly unsteadily on sandals, Belinda tottered after Jennifer and slid into the passenger seat of the Toyota. "First stop is the Mall at Blue Water, they're bound to be busy and no-one will give two girlfriends shopping a second glance. Here, there are a few telephone numbers on the pad, call them for me," Belinda glanced down at the pad and saw Transformation's London office number. Obediently and carefully with the unaccustomed nails, she entered the number into the cellphone, a breezy voice answered and Jennifer immediately took over the conversation. "Yes, hi, I need a waist clincher and a girdle with hip and bum pads to fit a size 16, can you help?" The salesperson was efficient and soon they had agreed sizes and colours and price, motioning to Belinda to dig out the credit card from Jennifer's purse, the transaction was completed and special delivery for the following morning agreed. Next was a call to Anita's to agree a first appointment the following day at 7.00am before the normal opening hours. The rest of the day was a blur for Belinda. Once over the initial worries of being "read" she was happy arm-in-arm with Jennifer as they cruised from shoe shop (2 pairs of court shoes in the sale, a lovely pair of brown knee length boots and a pair of slingbacks) to lingerie outlet (bras, panties, suspenders and corsets in white, black and cream) to makeup counters (mostly cleansers and moisturisers and lipsticks, Jennifer insisting they get Anita's guidance on the colours for foundations, blushers and eyes). Exhausted, they collapsed in a coffee shop and Jennifer ordered black coffee for both, once finished, she paid up and let a mildly protesting Belinda to the ladies' room. "Come on, you must fix your lipstick after a hot drink and I need to pee." "So do I," grinned Belinda, so they entered separate stalls and relieved themselves, Belinda opened the door to see Jennifer and another woman at the sinks and hesitated but the woman glanced at her in the mirror and then went back to her ablutions. Committed, Belinda washed her hands and dried them, admiring the glint from her long red nails. The she reached into her handbag and brought out the soft purse, opening it to get out the lipstick, she stared at her reflection and touched up the colour. The other woman smiled at her in the mirror and left. "Well done, love, very professional." Back to shopping, this time for skirts, blouses, camisoles, jackets, dresses and suits most of which did not seem to fit that well, but Jennifer was insistent. "I know someone who can alter them a bit and you need the hips for the skirts and dresses, trust me. OK, now the final touches." She steered Belinda to a discount jewellery store and they tried on rings and clip-on earrings, bangles and necklaces. The rings were the most problematical so they then went to a proper jeweller where Belinda's fingers were sized and a few smarter gold-plated rings picked out and adjusted there and then. Lunch was in a small salad bar with an over attentive waiter who Jennifer played up to, much to Belinda's embarrassment. Belinda's stomach groaned at the unaccustomed lack of volume but a sip of dry white wine helped. They both repaired their lipstick from the mirror in Jennifer's compact and then a final shop for an outer coat for Belinda in navy and a visit to Victoria's Secret where they bought matching peach babydoll nighties and negligees much to the bemusement of the assistant. They arrived back home exhausted and it took both of them to carry the many bags of shopping indoors and upstairs. Jennifer insisting that everything was hung up on hangers of carefully folded and put away in drawers that had been hastily emptied of their boxer shorts, socks and assorted male paraphernalia. "Come on, we both need to freshen up - go run a bath Bel," Jennifer smiled as Belinda pulled off her sandals and massaged her aching feet, "you see now how it hurts to be a woman sometimes?" Jennifer insisted Belinda have the bath first, helping her remove clothing, wig and makeup before critically appraising the almost hairless body. "Anita will get you all smooth tomorrow my love, now shave your face again and we'll soak off those breastforms, it can't be good to leave them stuck on for too long. Also, we'll need to take off those fingernails and the varnish on your toes so that you'll be all clean for Anita tomorrow." Belinda complied and, in the mirror, Jim had reappeared except for a largely hairless body. Jennifer poured scented oils into the bath and encouraged Jim to take his time soaking in the oils. Cleansed and moisturised Jim emerged from the bath and submitted to further administration of lotions and Wild Yam cream to his face, neck and torso. Jennifer stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Mmm, I like both Jim and Belinda. In fact, I am not sure which I like best, but I do like him." Teasingly, she kissed her fingers and tapped Jim's flaccid penis. It responded quickly and they embraced, Jennifer's clothes coming off in a flurry of excitement before she gasped as he penetrated her on the bathroom floor and they quickly came together. Resting in each other's' arms, Jennifer smiled. "This is so much fun, it's great to have a girlfriend and to enjoy shopping but you'd better clean yourself up again and then to bed, it's an early start in the morning." The alarm woke both of them from their deep sleep at 6.00am. Jennifer and Jim had both slept naked and she jumped out of bed and pushed him into the bathroom admonishing to have a close shave but to dress in the same feminine outfit as yesterday but without the wig or any makeup. After another light breakfast, Jennifer ran upstairs and brought down some of the new clothes purchased yesterday together with a large carrier bag and ushered Jim out of the door. Driving quickly in the early morning traffic, they got to Anita's 15 minutes early, but the proprietor was already there. Pleasantries exchanged, Jim was forced to sit at a well-lit dressing table whilst the women chatted, he caught glimpses of the conversations. "OK, yes, smart and sophisticated. His colouring isn't too dark so we'll need brunette or a dark blonde base colour, nails need to be working length and we'll need to do something about the hair growth over the next week or so." A series of wigs and colour swatches were tried on until all agreed that a smart dark blonde with darker streaks worked best, the shape was teased and carefully cut to frame the face and fall just above the shoulders. Anita showed the best use of a cap to contain Jim's own hair and of the fasteners and glues to keep the wig in place. Anita then quickly cut Jim's hair to a very short length and expertly shaved off his sideburns. She examined his fingers and toes and set to work removing unwanted cuticle and shaping toenails as well as the acrylic wrap nails for his hands. The women agreed that the long nails needed to be got used to so that he might as well have the fingernails put on now, the new acrylic wraps were good for at least a month. Fingernails were stuck on and a base coat applied to both fingers and toes. Whilst they dried, Anita tried various colours of foundation from the Jo Malone range, eventually deciding to blend two colours together for the best results. Much fussing of hair, a further coat of varnish and subtle eyeshadow shades followed careful mascara and blusher application. Anita frowned at the choices of lipstick. "The lips are a bit thin, we've got this new bee sting topical application which works in about an hour and lasts all day," she laughed at Jim's frightened look, "don't worry, it doesn't hurt, we use it for weddings and such but it goes down quite quickly." She applied some greenish gel to Jim's lips and retired to put a final coat of varnish on fingers and toes. "There, just wait for the lips to plump up and we can put on the lipstick, looks good, doesn't she?" Jennifer grinned. "Yes, Belinda looks great but we better get going if we're to avoid the rest of your staff turning up for work. What else is needed Anita?" "Oh, crikey, Jackie is normally here by now, you best go quick. I'll call you later, but don't let her shave her legs or torso, we'll need a few days and then to bring her back for a waxing." This time, Belinda flinched visibly, the women giggled. Jennifer and Belinda thanked Anita and rushed out of the salon, cannoning into a young redhead who was trying to use her key to get in. The girl stepped back and smiled, then her eyes widened as she saw Belinda taking in the expert makeup, coiffure and manicure. Jennifer managed a "hello" before she pushed a dazed Belinda into the car and sped off. "You think she saw anything?" Belinda asked, breathlessly. "Don't know, hopefully Anita can find out or bring her into our little secret." Back at home Belinda and Jennifer tried on all the purchases of the previous day and both were heartened when the delivery from Transformation revealed waist clinchers and girdles which, once on, gave Belinda the smooth curves and waist definition to improve the fit of the skirts and dresses. Jennifer measured and pinned many of the items and then ran out of the house saying she was going to her dressmaker to get them altered as a matter of urgency. Alone in the house, Belinda walked carefully in the new shoes enjoying the feeling of nylon-clad thighs brushing against each other under a dress of Jennifer's that fitted well now that the waist clincher and figure enhancers were doing their job. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and smiled at the smart woman staring back at her, perfectly polished nails, rings and bracelets glinting in the morning sunlight. There was a knock at the door, Belinda froze, she looked through the window to see a delivery lorry outside and a uniformed man standing with a parcel and clipboard in his hand. The knock was repeated, with heart in mouth, she stepped forward and opened the door, a tall young man looked up and smiled. "Morning ma'am, Parcelforce," he proffered the small parcel, which Belinda took, and then held out an electronic pad for signature, Belinda hesitated and then signed "Bel Stone." The man smiled again, thanked her and left. The next few days saw Jennifer and Belinda out often, to the shops, to restaurants and to bars. Belinda was learning quickly and becoming expert at hair and makeup as well as feminine deportment. They had hired videos on voice training from transvestite magazines and even attended a voice coach who advertised help to the transgendered community. Finally, the week of the lawyer's meeting for the Jo Malone cosmetic agreement came and the training stepped up a gear with Jennifer forcing Belinda to go out alone and shop and then meet Jennifer at an agreed venue. Two days before the meeting, they reappeared at Anita's at 6.30am for a final finishing touch. "We need to improve the beard cover a bit, you say you're using Yam cream, that should have had some effect but maybe she needs a heavier concealer, especially if it gets a bit hot," Anita had removed Belinda's day makeup and applied a thicker concealer to remarkable effect. Now, this may hurt a bit so go into the treatment room and off with everything but your panties. Belinda complied meekly and both women went into the treatment room with her as she lay on a high table staring at a tub of warm wax. "Off with the bra and the breastforms dear, we need everything as smooth as possible." Anita had a glint in her eye which seemed to harden as Belinda squealed as the first strip of wax was ripped off her long legs. The torture took almost an hour until the women were satisfied and Belinda was handed a soothing moisturiser cream to apply all over to reduce any redness. "Wear loose clothing for the rest of today and you'll be fine by tonight," Anita smiled, "now a final check of your nails and let's give your hair a tweak" All was completed and the women agreed to meet half an hour before the scheduled appointment at Jo Malone's lawyer's offices for the accreditation and signatures. As Belinda and Jennifer were leaving, they ran into the redhead once again, who smiled quizzically and then froze as her eyes dropped to Belinda's torso. In keeping the waxing as simple as possible, she had removed the breastforms and, in dressing had left bra and forms off as her torso hurt. Belinda's manicured hand flew to her non-existent breasts and she ran to the car with Jennifer in tow. Once home, Jennifer called Anita. "No, Jackie didn't say anything to me, maybe she didn't notice." Everyone forgot about the incident at the salon as the day dawned for Belinda's big moment. Jennifer had set out a very smart grey striped skirt suit with a white silk camisole and helped Belinda get ready. "You look fantastic darling, no-one would be able to guess, now remember all you have to do is to take you Jo Malone products with you and the lipstick and apply it when you get to the office. Your agent will be there and she assures me that the payment is immediate." They drove to the agreed venue and, as arranged, met with Anita in the foyer. She smiled and the women repaired to the ladies' room for Anita to give a final touch up on the makeup and hair. Suitable primped, they met up with Belinda's agent, Stephanie whose wide eyes and big grin signified serious confirmation of the woman Belinda had now become. "Jesus, is that you, Jim, I mean Belinda. Shit you've got better legs hair and makeup than any girl I have seen, let's go and get some serious cash." The four women giggled and proceeded to the lawyer's office. Despite all the preparation and the attendant nervousness, the proceedings in the office were mundane and over very quickly. A female representative from Jo Malone was very pleasant and confirmed that Belinda's makeup and the contents of her makeup bag indeed included her products. Belinda made a show of using Jo Malone's ruby red shine lipstick and then Belinda signed the papers. The lawyer, an older crusty man clearly uncomfortable with so many women and so much makeup, countersigned and handed the cheque to Belinda. "I'll take that Belinda," Stephanie smiled, "after all I need to protect my investment. The four women walked out of the office and across the street to a smart restaurant where champagne was ordered and drunk. Stephanie passed an envelope to Belinda who checked the contents and handed it to Anita, she opened it and her eyes widened. "That's a thank you for all your hard work, Anita." Belinda said quietly, the best way she could keep her voice from revealing too much emotion. "So, what's to happen to Belinda now?" Anita asked with a smile, turning to Jennifer. "That's up to her really," Jennifer grinned, "she's my best friend and maybe she should decide." All eyes turned to Belinda whose blushes showed through the foundation, everyone laughed. Belinda and Jennifer returned home and saw the advert on the television proclaiming that Belinda Stone, that scion of women's fashions and writing, was an accredited user of Jo Malone cosmetics. The huge cheque had been safely banked by Stephanie and Jennifer was beaming with happiness and admiration for Belinda. "You know, I could get used to Belinda being around, if that's what you want, you seem so much more caring and relaxed somehow." "I don't know," Belinda's voice wavered, "I have enjoyed all the attention, but I am not sure what is best. Let's sleep on it." Jennifer grinned and took Belinda's hand as they went up to bed, to collapse exhausted after a long, slow, sexy lovemaking session. The following morning, they were both awoken by the telephone, Jennifer answered. "Jenni, it's Anita, have you seen the papers. I am so sorry." Jennifer went white and rushed downstairs to retrieve the newspaper from the front door mat, Belinda close behind, page 4 held the details... "Belinda Stone, famous women's writer, is actually a man," the banner stated in big block capitals, "sources at a local beauty salon reveal he/she has been coming in regularly for sessions. Women across the UK register their shock." "Bastard," Jim's gruff expletive emerged from lips showing traces of lipstick, "it was that Jackie at Anita's." At that moment there was a knock at the door, without thinking, Jennifer opened it to be blinded by the flash of a camera and a reporters microphone being thrust in her face, the cameraman moved quickly and took photos of Belinda before the house owners managed to bungle the intruders out of the door. "Oh shit, now what." Jim's mobile burst into life, angrily he replied. "What!" "Jim, it's Stephanie." "Yes, yes I've heard and we've been doorstepped by the press." "It gets worse, Jo Malone have been on arguing misrepresentation and demanding their money back. Do you want me to get Howard, your lawyer, onto it?" "Shit, yes, I simply signed to say Belinda Stone uses their bloody stuff. No-one asked me to state that I was a woman!" The house phone rang, Jennifer picked it up and slammed it down again, "they've got our home number, now what do we do?" "Shit, I don't know." Jim was in a testosterone driven typical male rage, belying the fact that he still wore a long satin nightdress and matching panties with perfectly manicured finger and toenails from the previous day's activity as Belinda Stone. Jennifer, his love and the willing accomplice in this artifice to generate significant cash from a sponsorship deal, was smiling. "What the hell is funny, this isn't funny you know." "Darling, you look great and the irritated male voice seems strange from such a pretty exterior, but you need to decide who you are right now - either take the feminine attire and everything else off, or go upstairs and fix your makeup and put your wig on. Right now, I don't know who I am talking to, Jim or Belinda." The 'phone rang again, Jim snatched it up. "Yes, he barked." "Jim, it's Stephanie again. The cosmetics house has just called and are demanding their money back and are threatening damages from you for obtaining money on false pretences and for defamation of their brand. I've spoken to Howard who reckons they may not want their involvement released publicly and, if that blasted woman who spilled the beans can be shut up, he thinks we can reach a settlement but you'll have to give at least some of the cash back. They've stopped the cheque by the way!" "I see," Jim said quietly, "listen, Jenni and I need to decide what to do and how to get these bloody reporters off our doorstep. I'll need to call the 'paper as well to see what they want to do. I bet David and the staffers at the newspaper are having kittens. Let us get this sorted and I'll get back to you, in the meantime, can you ask Howard to try to sort something out with Jo Malone's lawyers?" Stephanie, Belinda's agent, agreed and rung off. Jim / Belinda told his wife the context of the call before the 'phone rang again, it was David from the office. "Well, Jim, or should I call you Belinda, that's dropped us all in it. The Editor is apoplectic that Belinda's true identity is out in the open but I think we've calmed him down. I know you're being doorstepped right now, in fact one of our guys and a photographer are out there now trampling your roses. But listen, the features team have met this morning and we have got an idea to help us all get out of this mess, want to listen?" "Do I have a choice?" was the contrite response. Jim / Belinda listened carefully, interspersing the long monologue with a few detailed questions, then hung up. "Well?" Jennifer asked after passing over a mug of steaming coffee, Jim explained the plan and they both agreed it was probably the only way forward. An hour later there was a knock at the door and Jennifer, by now fully dressed in smart designer jeans and a cotton overshirt, opened the door. She let three people in, David, whom she knew as Jim's Features Editor, a cameraman who introduced himself as Pete and a lighting engineer who remained wide-eyed but silent. She led them through into the sitting room. "Wow, Jim," David explained. Jim rose, fully dressed as Belinda in a smart blue dress with matching long-line jacket, matching court shoes and full makeup and jewellery. "Hi, David, meet Belinda." Jennifer smiled and stood by her husband. The photographer set up a number of poses of Belinda with and without Jennifer by her side whilst David fired a series of interview questions, recording all on his smartphone as well as making copious written notes. The photographer and assistant left about an hour later and the questions kept on flowing, David filling pages and pages of shorthand notes. In all the session lasted almost 3 hours with Jennifer listening intently and adding items of detail as well as providing food and drink. At the end, David rose, shook Belinda's hand warmly, kissed Jennifer and left saying. "thanks, both of you. I am going to tell the sharks out there that you have given your exclusive story to us and they might as well go home now. But you know that our rivals, particularly the Sun and Mirror, will want at least a picture before they'll go. Are you up for that at least?" "I guess so, it will be better to get them away now rather than have our front lawn ruined any further. Listen, thanks, David, let me have a copy of the article before it goes to press." David just smiled and let himself out, two minutes later he rang the doorbell. "OK, they're livid about the exclusivity but they have agreed to leave the area for 24 hours in return for some photos and a short question and answer session, are you OK with that?" "Do I have a choice? Just me or Jenni as well?" "Both of you would look better. It will be a scrum out there, but just stay calm and I will try to control the hounds." Jenni and Belinda looked at each other nervously as David opened the door to a barrage of shouts and flashes. He motioned them out onto the doorstep and both were blinded by the fusillade of flashguns and the shouts from the photographers. In all, the session lasted 20 minutes with David choreographing questions from each of the representative news media and allowing Belinda or Jennifer to answer. It was an exhausting process, many of the questions were on the theme of Belinda's sexuality (no, I am not gay), the impact of duping thousands of vulnerable women into believing that their fashion guru was a woman (what harm was really done, if any?) and a number of frankly intrusive questions which were ignored. Eventually, Belinda and Jenni were ushered back indoors and David left them. "Well, that was an eye opener for everyone, David did a good job and he is a good interviewer isn't he?" Belinda smiled. "Yes, he came into features from political and knows how to steer a session to get the results he wants, or in this case, what he wants the readers to see tomorrow." "You're sure this is the right thing to do now?" Jennifer frowned. "My love, I think this may be the only way to preserve our sanity and allow me to come back at some point to writing the column. A lot will depend on David's article and how the readers react and, of course, how the other papers spin the story. If they all reject Belinda Stone as some sort of transvestite horror who has duped them all these years, then we are done for, if not, well let's hope. Now, I separately need to relax and I'm going to have a bath if that's OK" Belinda rose, gathered up a smart blue leather handbag, kissed Jenni fondly on the lips and went upstairs. Removing jacket and dress, and hanging them carefully in a wardrobe now well-stocked with smart outfits for Belinda, she gazed at herself in the mirror. Looking back was a tall, smart woman with lovely auburn blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, matching blue camisole top concealing the mounds of an ample bosom and pretty blue French knickers beneath which lacy suspenders held up sheer stockings. Her long red fingernails and smart rings, earrings and necklace completed the image of femininity. She kicked off her shoes and glanced down at the colour of her toenails peeking through the stocking's feet. "Very pretty!" Jennifer was standing in the bedroom doorway, hands on hips, a smile on her lips, "you sure know how to look good as a woman, I'm sure I have never seen you less stressed and more, well, sexy." Belinda smiled and held out a manicured hand. Jennifer walked forward and held her partner's hand. "Hold on a minute girl, are you trying to seduce me dressed like that?" Belinda's smile broke into a grin as her painted lips parted. Jenni continued, "Well maybe I should be doing the seducing if you are the woman you think you are. Give me a few minutes and get yourself ready for some action." Jenni untangled her fingers and disappeared down the hallway. Belinda, her heart racing and an uncompromising bulge starting to tent her blue silk underwear, quickly moved to the dressing table and, with practiced hands primped her hair, repaired her makeup and liberally spritzed her favourite perfume onto neck, cleavage and, with a smile, her crotch. Selecting a light blue short negligee, she arranged it over her underwear and slid into bed. Belinda lay there for what seemed like ages and was just about to go and find out what was happening when Jenni reappeared. Belinda gasped, gone were the feminine accoutrements and soft curves of Jim's wife. Standing at the doorway was a figure clad in black; black leather basque with pointed breasts, black leather knickers and suspenders with matching stockings. Impossibly high heeled black leather (or were they PVC) thigh length boots and long gloves were set off by a cascade of black waist length hair and heavy makeup. "Hello, Belinda, Jenni's got one hell of a surprise for you. I've been saving this for the right moment ever since you started dressing properly and I'd always wanted to be a dominant mistress with my own sexy lady lover. Stand up and let me look at you girl." Stunned, Belinda got out of bed and stood stock still as Jenni ran her gloved fingers over the blue satin. Moments later they were locked in a deep passionate embrace, Jenni pulled away. "No, no, you're the gentle lady here. Just lay back and let me do all the work my love, that way we will both enjoy ourselves." Belinda did as she was told and watched, wide eyed, as Jenni unhooked the front of her basque to reveal her breasts tightly constrained by straps causing them to be forced forward creating two huge mounds. Jenni was clearly aroused as her nipples were deep red and very prominent. "You look so feminine and so sexy; I want you to feel everything a woman does when she is taken by her dominant lover. Now, kiss my nipples." Jenni lowered herself to straddle Belinda and forced one of the hard nipples close to Belinda's lipsticked mouth, instantly Belinda latched on and Jenni emitted a groan of pure animal lust. They writhed together in a passionate embrace, showering lipsticked kisses all over each other. Belinda's long painted nails seeking, and finding, the tight leather stockings and gently raking the bare flesh tensioned by the suspender straps. Jenni abruptly stopped and levered herself off the prone Belinda. Her smeared lipstick accentuated her broad grin, she looked down at the partially dishevelled form of her husband who appeared as a very sexually excited woman except for the huge bulge emanating from her crotch. "We better do something about that first," she said pointed a red fingernail at the tented panties under negligee. Without pausing, she gently lifted the satin material and slid her hand into the leg hole of the blue panties, freeing Belinda's raging cock from the confines of the tight material, she then carefully pulled the panties up tight and ran her long nails up the shaft of the red-hot penis. Opening her crimson lips, her tongue flickering in anticipation, she bore down on the erect member and expertly kissed and caressed the moist head and shaft before taking the twitching penis into her eager mouth. Belinda's body arched as, in quick succession, Jenni squeezed her balls and gripped the base of the penis hard before starting to move up and down, driving deep into her mouth. The excitement and sheer lust was too hard to control and in seconds, Belinda squealed as her cock expanded in Jenni's hot mouth and then shot a huge load of cum into the waiting throat. Not a drop was spilt as Jenni kept milking and milking until, despite continued stroking and sucking, Belinda started to relax and go flaccid. "There my love," Jenni smiled, "now you just lay there and enjoy this, it is my turn." Jenni stood and walked over to the dressing table, she wiped her lipstick off and applied a fresh coat and picked up a jar of moisturising cream. She returned to the bed and made Belinda roll onto her side, lifting Belinda's panties to one side, she liberally spread the cool cream over her buttocks and gently fingered her virgin hole. Belinda moved awkwardly. "What are you doing?" "Shh, my love, just relax." Jenni's finger found and invaded Belinda's body creaming the entrance to her fresh opening. She then took a pillow and placed it under the small of Belinda's back rolling her back so that her hips were raised. "Here's the surprise I promised." She smiled as she stood once more and carefully removed her tight leather panties. A long thick shaft protruded from her crotch, she was wearing a dildo and, from its position and lack of supporting straps, it was clearly double-ended. Belinda's eyes widened. "Now, my dear, it is time to enjoy sex as the woman we both know you want to be." Gently at first, Jenni straddled her partner and guided the dildo so that it forced its way toward her virginal hole. Jenni used fingers and more lubricant until it slid into place, the first centimetres creating a small opening. "Relax, widen your legs and just breath normally and relax, yes that's it." Jenni felt the pressure ease and very gently advanced her hips, her own eyes shut briefly as the pressure transmitted itself along the shaft of the dildo into her own hot, wet vagina. Slowly she advanced more and more of the hard rubber into Belinda's tight but willing body until vagina lips touched buttocks. "There, how does that feel my love?" she breathed. "Wonderful, I feel full and pressured but I feel like I am totally at your mercy and I want you to take me and make love to me," Belinda sighed. "Your wish is my command." Jenni started to thrust with small movements at first, but in increasing intensity as the dildo slid in and out of her own vagina. Suddenly the pace quickened and Jenni arched her back, nipples engorged and eyes closed as wave upon wave of contractions started at the mouth of her vagina and spread deeply into her body and soul. She shuddered to a halt, breathing hard and deeply. Belinda was laying beneath her, eyes tight shut, lips pursed in a wicked smile. Without opening her eyes, Belinda moved her stocking clad legs around Jenni's waist to grip Jenni from behind, forcing the dildo deep into each other's body. This triggered another wave of heat and Jenni drove deep once more, she came immediately, but could feel Belinda rocking beneath her. "Oh yes my love, yes, yes, that's good oh yes," Jenni breathed encouragement as Belinda arched beneath her and her eyes opened in surprise as her body shuddered. Belinda was impaled on a hot wet dildo in her no-longer virginal hole and a gentle heat was suffusing from there across her whole body like a warm mist. It was incredible, Belinda felt her own nipples erecting under the breastforms and her skin tingling with pleasure, yet it was unlike the violence of a male orgasm. Belinda sighed and relaxed slowly, smiling in pleasure and love at the new-found delights of Jenni's dominant sexual role. "Wow, that was incredible." Belinda's smeared lipstick belied the sheer feelings of femininity that were coursing through her male body. "I just love the feeling of you and seeing you cum like that, we must do that again!" "Again and again my love." Jenni smiled and lifted herself off the prostate form of Belinda. "You seemed to cum yet your cock is still limp." "I know, it was a warm gentle glow rather than a normal pumping orgasm. But it was so sexy and wonderful, thank you." "My pleasure," Jenni smiled again. "I guess I better change for bed now and you better clean yourself up my love." They both got ready for bed and fell quickly asleep, Belinda nestling in Jenni's arms. The rattle of the letterbox announced the delivery of the morning papers and Jenni jumped out of bed to retrieve them. Belinda woke slowly and went into the bathroom to relieve herself, wincing at the very sore feeling from her recently deflowered rear. They both silently read the article, written by David and placed under a prominent picture of Belinda with the headline "Belinda Stone; man or woman, manipulator or guru?" "Shit," said Belinda reverting to male mode, "they've distanced the paper from me and left it up to the readers to decide whether I should stay or go. I've been hung out to dry." "It's not all bad, he repeated a number of very positive reviews you had prior to them knowing who you really are, and the readers may always surprise you. But I agree that an internet poll is a little cruel. We'll just have to see what Belinda's grateful public really think. Listen, you go and get changed I'll nip up to the newsagents and buy the rest of the papers. Let's really see what the press thinks." 30 minutes later Jenni and Belinda sat at the kitchen table with 7 or 8 newspapers strewn all over the floor and every flat surface. The reading was grim, most of the Guardian's rivals had adopted the "Transvestite pervert dupes millions of women" stance with unflattering pictures of Belinda clearly doctored from the previous day's session. They sat in silence, a small tear appearing in Jenni's eye. The 'phone rang, it was David. "Jim, I am sorry but the editors insisted that we try damage limitation. I can tell you that the phone and email have been red hot with a 50:50 mix of supporters and more negative responses. The good news is that our sales have shot up today, but I guess that may not be good news for you. I'll call later today with the latest results, but you might like to think of going away for a while until this all calms down." Jenni and Belinda talked over the options and they both agreed that Belinda should disappear for a while. Reluctantly, Belinda went upstairs to change and emerged as a very smoothly shaven soft skinned Jim and hour later. They had to get out of the house, if only to stock up on shopping and agreed to run the gauntlet of the few journalists who had reappeared that morning. This was accomplished with few problems and Jim called Stephanie and Howard on the mobile to assess progress and damage. He paraphrased the outcome of the calls to Jenni as she drove to a distant shopping mall. "It seems Jo Malone are happy to keep their name out of this and will not be pressing charges, but we'll get no money for all the efforts. Stephanie thinks I should get away as well and maybe just lie low for a bit, maybe she's right but where and when?" "Jim, Belinda, hell I am confused now. Listen, you know you should get away and I can come out to wherever you get to. I'll need a few weeks to sort my office out but I have at least 2 week's holiday left. You should get away, probably away from the UK and, who knows, maybe you can start writing that book you've been going on about for so long. You also need to decide what is going to happen to Belinda, not just the women's writer but your need to be her." "I know, maybe you are right, I need some quiet time. I'll have a look on the internet when we get back to try to hire somewhere for a month or so, maybe in central France - we enjoyed that time in the Dordogne two years ago." They chatted and planned as they shopped for essentials, eventually returning home to find the message light on the answerphone flashing, it was David. "Jim, bad news I am afraid, 64% of messages received so far are negative only 25% supportive. I guess these women don't like to think men understand them. The Chief has told me to let you know we will be ceasing the column immediately; HR will write to you with the severance package. I am so sorry, but that's life. Call me." "I'm not really surprised," sighed Jim, "it was always a bit of an artifice but it paid the mortgage for a while. Oh well, I guess I had better get on the internet and find myself somewhere to stay. An hour later, thanks to budget airlines, car hire and "Vacances en France". A one-way flight to Bordeaux had been booked for the next morning together with a small hillside house overlooking the Lot valley some 200Km South East of the airport, near a small town called Daubes. Jenni agreed that it seemed fine and that he should go straight away and that she would follow a few weeks later in order that she could sort out her own work schedules. Jenni helped with packing. "I think you will need these as well," she said smiling whilst holding up lingerie, hosiery and shoes. "You're right, I could dress all day and no-one would see me," Jim smiled as well and together they packed a second suitcase full of Belinda's things, "it will allow me to try to decide what I really want to do about Belinda." "Shit, shit, shit, shit.." "What's the matter, Jim?" Jennifer looked genuinely worried as her husband bellowed rage from his study. "My f***ing passport's expired, that's what." "What, oh you stupid idiot, I told you to get it renewed after our holiday last year, now what are you going to do?" "Oh hell, if I don't get out of here, they'll never leave me alone. Maybe I can just get away somewhere in the UK." "But they'll find you, and your face, both as Jim and Belinda, are plastered over the tabloids and the women's magazines. At least in France their privacy laws would keep you out of the papers. And what are you going to do about the flight and car hire, they're booked for this evening - won't you lose all the money if you cancel?" "Yes, but, maybe..." Jim trailed off in a distant smile. "Go on" "Is your passport up to date?" "Yes, why, oh, I see, maybe, it's worth a try isn't it?" Jennifer grinned. "Go on, get upstairs and change and ring the airline to see if you can at least change the name on the ticket." Jim picked up the cordless phone and ran upstairs to start the process of turning himself into as close a facsimile as he could to his wife, Jennifer. In the past, Belinda had been a redhead preferring quite sophisticated skirt suits and generous makeup. Both Jim and Jennifer were of a similar build and maybe, just maybe he could get away with it.... The airline, being a budget no frills operation, accepted the last- minute changes with no comment and a ?25 fee. The car hire was simpler as they accepted the explanation of a mistake but they needed Jennifer's driver's license number and her credit card details, which were duly given. In the bathroom, Jennifer opened the door and smiled at Jim as he was painstakingly shaving his already smooth body. "I guess you'll need my passport, driver's license and a credit card. I've left them downstairs, lucky I have two credit cards. Once you're settled in the rented house, you can mail me my passport and driver's license and I can come out to be with you. Now, if you're going to pass as me, we'll need to get another wig from Anita and see if you can get into some of my travelling gear, very few women travel in smart skirts and you'll call attention to yourself if you are overly made-up. So, get yourself ready, but don't overdo it." Jennifer left as Jim completed his bath and he could hear her calling Anita's and arranging to collect a dark brown bob wig which Anita would style in a manner similar to Jennifer's own. He quickly began the well-rehearsed process of drying and towelling his hairless body, applying moisturisers and perfumed talc before slipping his manhood between his legs and, using a maxi pad to hold everything in place, pulling up a pair of peach satin panties. His chest now dry, he used an alcohol wipe to degrease the breast area and carefully applied silicone adhesive to the backs of the familiar breastforms. Standing in front of the mirror and using a matching peach satin underwired bra, he ensured everything was in the right position before pushing the adhesive surfaces onto his bare torso, the weight of the breastforms was welcoming and he swiftly changed his stance to counterbalance their effect. Into the bedroom, he saw that Jennifer had laid out an array of trousers and tops in addition to his favourite figure enhancing girdle with hip and bum pads. This he slid on first, breathing in as the hooks connected and the strong zip flattened his stomach. A pair of light tan tights followed quickly rolling up soft smooth legs, a sensation he never failed to enjoy. Next was to try the trousers, as Belinda he had always worn skirts as the feeling of the materials swishing as he walked was always a major turn on; however, now to practicalities. Most were far too tight but one pair of dark blue stretch denim jeans fitted pretty well, their tightness showing off his enhanced figure. Satisfied, he donned a pretty pink cotton long- sleeved T-shirt and tucked everything in place. "That's really good, love, you'll need a belt and some ankle boots and jacket, try these." Jennifer proffered a wide black leather belt with an ornate gilt buckle which just fit. Belinda had her own smart black ankle boots and a black leather bolero jacket which completed the ensemble. "Anita's coming over now, she'll help with the makeup and so on. You'll need jewellery, here I normally wear this thick gold neck chain and matching bracelet and a watch and rings and earrings - shame you never got your ears pierced!" Jennifer giggled. True to her word, Anita arrived ten minutes later profusely apologising for the mess caused by one of her employees spilling the beans on Belinda to the tabloids. She quickly dropped into professional beautician mode and made Jennifer sit to one side as she matched skin tones to foundation and blended blushers to subtly alter the shape of Jim's face. Six wigs were tried and discarded before the women agreed that the final one, a short dark brown bob with hints of black lowlights was the best. Anita painstakingly applied a very tight hair cap before liberally using adhesive to the exposed skin and settling the wig carefully in place. Primping and brushing the hair brought a fine lustre to an excellent job and, looking into the mirror, Jim could see a passing resemblance to his beloved wife. "Now, you're going to need some more of the foundation and let's just sort your nails out, I have some acrylic short nails here which should do. How long do we have?" "We need to leave in about 20 minutes to catch the flight." 15 minutes later, Jennifer and, well, Jennifer (as Jim had to think of himself at least until France) embraced carefully to avoid smudging makeup or nails. Anita left to get her car and took the suitcases for the French trip with her. "Good luck love, and don't forget to use the ladies if you need to go!" Jennifer smiled, a small tear in one eye. "Thanks for everything, we'll sort it all out, see you soon." They kissed again and Jennifer wiped a small amount of lipstick from her cheek. Jim, now trying to look like his wife, stepped out of the house, there were still some reporters about and a few flash bulbs went off as they shouted to get her attention. One called "Going away, Jennifer?" Jim nodded and smiled, hoping this would help in the process of confusing the scent. Anita drove quickly to Stansted airport and insisted in helping with the luggage and boarding formalities. It all seemed to go well, no problems with queuing for the flight, the electronic ticket worked and the male check-in clerk seemed happy with all the paperwork and Jim's whispered responses to the inevitable security questions. Anita gave Jim a friendly squeeze and a peck on the cheek as he prepared to go through to the departure lounge. "Now, don't forget, you are Jennifer Berry and if you hear your name called, or anyone addresses you as madam then you have got to respond. And don't forget to use the ladies!" Anita smiled, "boy, you do look good, most women would kill for a figure like that, have fun love." Alone, Jim walked through the security checks, panicking briefly as he had forgot to put his handbag through the X-ray machine and was asked to go back. In the departures hall, he checked the flight details to see he had almost 45 minutes before boarding so a quick visit to the shops was in order. It was very noticeable how the assistants in the stores adopted a different attitude to a woman browsing the makeup, clothing and jewellery counters. Travelling as Jim, he had always explored these islands of fantasy, but was put off by the saleswomen watching him suspiciously. Dressed as Jennifer, their attitude changed and he was offered sprays of perfume and opportunities to try on shoes or buy handbags, all of which were politely refused. The only shopping experience was to buy a women's magazine and to exchange some UK pounds sterling for Euros, the scant check of the passport eliciting no responses. Boarding formalities over, the flight was uneventful if uncomfortable, the no frills airlines were exactly that and the narrow seats and poor legroom made for some extreme discomfort as the girdle pressed into his stomach. The tightness of the jeans in a sitting position put almost intolerable pressure on his groin despite the cushioning of the maxi pad. This meant that the flight was borne in some agony, politely refusing proffered drinks in case the pressure was too much to bear. On landing at Toulouse, clutching the handbag as tightly as he could to focus the huge pressure from an unruly bladder, he walked as quickly as the heels would allow to the ladies. It took ages in the close confines of the cubicle and with new false nails, to undo belt, pull down jeans and tights and unhook the girdle before his severely flattened penis could be released from the folds of the panties and disgorge a flow of urine into the waiting bowl. The pressure finally abating the process was reversed until, satisfied, he exited the cubicle and walked over to the wash basins and mirror. The woman looking back at him was not Jennifer, but it was a close approximation and he only had French customs to navigate. Touching up lipstick and carefully brushing hair, he left the ladies and entered the flow of passengers as they joined the queues for Douaine. Once more it was uneventful and, having collected the luggage and found the car hire counter, Jim discovered one of the disadvantages of being an unaccompanied female in France, Frenchmen. All of the documentation was in order, but the French clerk insisted on explaining everything in heavily accented English, all the time finding ways of touching arms, hands and, once, bottom as he showed this Englishwoman the workings of the Citroen Saxo and the best routes out of the airport to the South. Jim smiled to himself as he drove away, at least it had been flattering to be treated like a lady. It was dark as the slim dark-haired woman drove out of the airport car park and gingerly negotiated the exit slip road onto the D21 to Sapiac. The Citroen was a little slow and unfamiliar but adequate for the 150Km drive to South Central France. Jim had the directions to the house from the owner's web site and, despite the darkness, found the route fairly straightforward despite getting a little lost in Flumel's one-way system. Tired, hungry and a little sore from wearing tight clothes for such a long time, he eventually drew the car up to a small but smart house nestling high up on a hill overlooking the Lot valley. A light was burning brightly over the porch and the instructions were correct in that the key was to be found under a flower pot behind stack of logs. Letting himself in, he turned on the main room lights to behold a nice sofa in front of an already laid open fire, on the table was a small note of welcome, a carton of milk, some eggs, bread and butter and a bottle of local red wine with two glasses. He smiled, went back to the car and retrieved the luggage and carried it up to the bedroom. All seemed in order in the house and he swiftly took off the jeans and T-shirt removing the tights and girdle with a sigh of relief. Padding through the house in bra and panties, he explored the bedrooms and bathroom feeling a little cold but pleased to be out of the UK and enjoying the feeling of freedom of getting those tight clothes off. "I'll need to lose weight or buy a better girdle," he thought, then froze as he heard a knock at the door. "Un moment," he called in a soft husky but hopefully feminine voice as he quickly opened one of the suitcases and pulled on a lightweight summer dress. Checking hair and makeup in the mirror, he walked downstairs to be greeted by a smiling and very pretty French woman. "Ah, Madame, you are Madam Berry, oui?" She smiled again and held out an elegantly manicured hand. "Er, oui, mais je ne parle Francaise tres bien," Jim stammered trying to remember schoolboy French and to speak in a soft feminine voice. "Ah, pas de problem. I am Veronique, I saw you drive up the lane. I am your neighbour and the owners ask me to keep an eye out for you, is everything alright? We were expecting monsieur Berry, oui?" "Yes, but my, er, husband could not come he will come later, maybe next week," Jim thought quickly, "my name is Jennifer. Everything here seems very nice, thank you." "Ca Va, you must be tr?s tired from your journey, I will let you get unpacked and rest. My house is at the bottom of the lane and turn left, about 1 Km, if you need anything, just call, the number is on the pad by the phone. Welcome to Cazideroque, I am sure you will be 'appy 'ere." Veronique smiled and left. Shattered by the events of the last few days, Jim closed the door and watched the attractive Veronique drive off down the lane then walked wearily upstairs. He tried to all Jennifer on the mobile, but there was no signal, so he used the house 'phone for a quick call. "Hi, I'm here, it seems great but the mobile doesn't work, how are you?" "Hi love, you sound tired. All's OK here. No-one has been around so I have kept low, the press have mostly given up. The news is full of some scandal about a politician and his floozy, but I guess they'll discover soon enough that you have disappeared. You shouldn't ring on a land line; they could trace it. Get some rest and call me tomorrow. Bye, love you." Deciding to unpack properly in the morning, he threw the jeans and T- shirt into a pile, along with the panties, bra and tights and put on a long black nightie. He collapsed into bed and fell quickly into a deep sleep, dreaming of tight corsets and suffocation. Sunlight from the open window slowly crept across the bedroom floor as the day advanced, the bright rays eventually playing on a tousled black-haired woman lying on her back in the middle of a large king- sized bed. Jim's eyes opened slowly, they felt very sticky and he remembered he had not cleansed off the makeup the previous night. He got up, enjoying the heaviness of the breastforms as they swung under the sheer material of the nightdress. Looking at the reflection in the bedroom mirror, he grimaced at the caked makeup and smudged eyes and lipstick. The wig, however, looked fine but the nails were chipped in a few places from hauling luggage. Downstairs, he made a fresh coffee and brought it back up to the bathroom where, after and invigorating shower and fresh, fluffy towels, he shaved very close and then cleansed his face, ensuring the wig was still firmly attached before returning to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his breastforms, concealing his torso. "Well, " he thought, "the opportunity to stay dressed as a woman full time and with a wardrobe of new clothes. I best get started." He diligently hung up all the skirts, dresses and trousers and put away the underwear and makeup. Then selecting the same light summer dress as the previous evening, he pulled on soft cotton panties and a matching underwired bra before sitting in front of the vanity mirror to apply subtle foundation, a light eyeshadow and mascara. Satisfied, he pulled on the dress and zipped it up and then sat again to brush the wig out. Noticing the chipped nail varnish, he grimaced and looked for remover - damn - none there. Oh well, he would need to shop for essentials anyway, so, donning a pair of flat sandals he went downstairs and sorted out a meagre breakfast, making a list of the things needed to survive out here. Driving down to the nearest town took 15 minutes of careful navigation of narrow roads. Jim saw Veronique's house on the way, but it seemed deserted. The town of Daube was very small, but boasted a baker and a small charcuterie and a shop selling essentials. All the women behind the counters seemed very friendly but there was little conversation given Jim's poor French and their lack of English; nevertheless, the shop was successful and he drove back to the house. The rest of the first day was spent sorting out the kitchen and examining the washing machine and finding the essential other items which would make the stay comfortable. About 5 in the evening, mobile phone in one hand, he drove around until he had a decent signal and phoned Jennifer, she wasn't there, so he left an updated message on the phone being careful not to mention where he was. Driving back through the French countryside in the early evening was a pleasure and the bright sunlight reminded him that he needed some sunglasses. In a reverie, he was startled by a woman stepping out in front of the car outside Veronique's house, he stopped quickly and the woman, a tall redhead, approached the Citroen. "Ah, bonsoir, you are the new lady at Cazideroque, oui?" Still a little shocked, Jim stammered, "Er, oui." "Je suis Sophie, I am, ow you say, Veronique's friend." She proffered a hand which Jim shook carefully, "please, come in for a coffee or a glass of wine." Before he could protest, she had opened the car door; meekly, Jim followed into a small courtyard where a table and chairs sat in the warm evening sun. Veronique rose and smiled. "Hello, Jennifer, how are you enjoying the house?" Jim stuttered "fine" and accepted a glass of red wine from Sophie. The women chattered in broken English, asking all sorts of questions which Jim tried to answer monosyllabically as he did not trust his voice not to reveal its true gender in such close proximity. They quickly ascertained that Jennifer was here to write and that her husband would be joining her soon, Veronique suggested Jennifer came down for dinner as she was on her own and no amount of excuses could stop a date being set for the following week. The wine flowed and Jim relaxed in the company of the two elegant women; despite the language barrier, they seemed to get on well and he had to keep reminding himself that he was a woman and that he should not find these two women attractive, even if his male hormones said otherwise. Eventually he managed to persuade them that he had to go back to the house and, slightly tipsy, he got into the car and drove off. He couldn't help noticing that the two women were arm in arm as they waved him off. Jim drove towards the main town in order to get into cellphone reception range, and called Jennifer. "Hi, how are things?" he asked. "Mad, just mad. Howard has been keeping Jo Malone's lawyers busy and they seem to be listening. They've agreed not to make a fuss at this stage, so you can come back if you want, but they have reserved the right to reinstate proceedings if they can demonstrate a negative effect on their sales from the publicity. Howard thinks that is probably going to be impossible to prove, so he advises that we accept, subject to agreeing a form of words." Jennifer sounded relieved and exhausted. "That's great, and, how are you?" "Oh, I'm fine but missing you. Lots on at work and there's a big transaction coming up, so it may be best if you stay out there and get writing your book, at least for a while. How is Jennifer?" She laughed. "Jennifer is just fine if confused and running fast out of essentials like Wild Yam cream and adhesive for her breastforms. It is getting hot here, so the wig is almost unbearable and the adhesives only work for a short time." Jennifer laughed again. "See, you want to look like a woman so you'll just have to get used to the discomfort. Why don't you get some hair dye and change your own hair colour and then you might just be able to pass without the wig." "You sure? I guess I could try but wouldn't I need to get it cut?" They carried on chatting for a while before finishing with an agreement to talk the next evening on the house 'phone. Jim then drove on to the large Carrefour supermarket on the outskirts of Fumel and browsed the cosmetics displays, choosing a Clairol dark brunette colourant "because I am worth it", he smiled. Finding Wild Yam cream was more difficult and his limited French was no value, but he did acquire copious quantities of hair remover including some specially formulated for bikini line and face. Musing on relaxation in France, his eyes fell on the clothing displays and the swimwear. Well, with the weather getting hotter, any woman would be seriously thinking of sunbathing so he picked out a smart one piece with a small skirt in light blue and rapidly returned to the cosmetics counter to pick up some suntan cream. He paid the bill using Jennifer's visa card, the assistant not even bothering to look at the signature, and drove home via a local Pizza takeaway as he felt famished. Once ensconced in the house, the Pizza eaten and a cold white burgundy frosting the glass, he inspected the instructions for the hair dye and went to work. Removing the wig was painful as the adhesive was well stuck in a number of places, but the feeling of lightness and freedom was sublime. He found the removal of the breastforms equally painful as there had been some hair growth under the adhesive. Into the shower to wash off all the remaining adhesive and to apply the hair colouring cream; whilst this was having its effect, he spread his body with the various depilatory creams, grimacing at the pungent odours. Almost an hour later, he emerged, somewhat sore, from the bathroom in a soft pink towelling nightgown with hair wrapped in a matching towel. He sat down in the bedroom and carefully removed the acrylic nails, placing them to one side for inspection. With nail varnish remover he took off the deep red polish on his toenails and cleaned his finger nails. He was back to being Jim, albeit without any hair except on his head and his pubic region and with a dark brunette colour instead of the mousy grey. Now what?., he mused. It would be nice to stay like this for a while, but again it would be nicer to reaffirm Jennifer and wear nice sexy feminine clothing. But it was late in the evening and he felt tired, so slipping into a short pink satin nightdress he fell into bed and into a deep slumber. Seemingly seconds later, he awoke to an insistent banging on the door. It was already daylight and a quick look out of the window revealed Veronique's car in the driveway. Jim panicked. "Veronique, I am still in bed, sorry, he called out in a soft voice." "No matter, ma cherie, it is such a lovely day I called round to see if you would like to come down later and swim in our pool, it is going to be very 'ot so you may want to cool off. Call me later, dormez bien." With a slam of a car door and a screech of tyres, Veronique disappeared. "Oh shit, now what?" Jim thought, "I cannot even think of accepting, I'd never pass in a swimsuit." But he was intrigued at the invite and the opportunity of sharing some time with those lovely Frenchwomen, no, stop it, he said to himself. Wide awake, and a simple breakfast completed, he examined himself in the mirror. The depilatory creams had worked wonders and his skin glowed, the Wild Yam creams he had been assiduously applying kept his beard growth under control but he still needed a shave. His hair, whilst the right colour, was totally the wrong cut Reviewing the reflection in the mirror, Jim accepted that the dyeing of his own hair had been a mistake. Whilst the breastforms and smooth skin helped with his shape and texture, the hair was wrong, but it was far too hot in the French South West to wear a wig during the day. He rang home to try to speak with his wife, Jennifer, whose identity he had "borrowed" in order to get out of the UK and away from threatened legal action, she was out and he got the answerphone instead. "Damn," he said out loud, he had forgotten to post Jennifer's passport back to her. He realised that he missed her warmth and company and her help in performing the transition to a feminine image. Quickly donning a light sun dress over panties and bra, he slid his pedicured feet into flat strappy sandals, then he grabbed a light scarf from the dresser and tied it, somewhat inexpertly, over his head to cover the fact that his now black hair was not properly styled. "I'll get hat, that will help," he mused as he drove to the local post office to post Jennifer's passport and then drove on to the Le Clerc supermarket to buy a hat or two. A few women looked quizzically at him as he walked through the fashion section of the store wearing a scarf as most of the other women were in shorts and skimpy t-shirts given the blistering weather. However, he found a couple of hats, one beige and one blue, in a soft slightly floppy material. The clothing racks caught his eye and he indulged in a very short denim skirt and matching bolero jacket as well as a lovely floating cotton print dress in blue. A few essential purchases of food and he checked out, enjoying the look of his manicured fingers as he forged his wife's curly signature. In the mall leading up to the store, he spotted a women's hairdressers. Hoping to have nothing to lose, he walked up to the largely deserted salon and pretended to be reviewing their range of hair care products when a young voice trilled a welcome in French. Stammering a little whilst he brought his voice under control, he mustered schoolboy French to ask if he could have an appointment for a cut; the girl consulted her diary and stated that there was an opening right now if that would suit. Heart pounding, he nodded and was led into the salon, wrapped in a thin shawl and made to sit at a washbasin. "Jennifer, it is you!" His heart stopped, the girl had gone and standing in front of him was Veronique, his neighbour and the key holder for the house. "This is so nice, please, take off your scarf and let me see." Mutely, he removed the scarf, Jacqueline's eyes widened and then she broke into a broad grin. Looking about the deserted salon, Veronique moved closer and whispered into his ear. "I knew you were not a woman; Sophie was not sure but I just knew. You look so good, but my dear, your hair, I will help only if you tell me everything!" She backed away smiling, wielding a large pair of scissors. With a resigned sigh, Jim told the whole story. His writings as Belinda Stone, the opportunity to earn a huge sum by endorsing a cosmetics chain, the exposure and his flight to France. As the story unfolded, Veronique washed the dyed hair and started to fuss and comb and back comb before carefully cutting and shaping. Jim lapsed into silence as the hairdressing continued with more washing and chemicals before he was told to sit for a while as the chemicals did their work. "And now, what do you want to be. What is your real name?" "Jim." "Ah yes, Jeem, and the name you used in Angleterre?" "Belinda." "And your wife's name?" "Jennifer." "How very confusing, I think I prefer Jennifer and that is the name on your passport, non?" "Non, actually, I posted Jenni her passport this morning. It is the name on the credit card though." "I see, I think. You like being a woman? Are you, how you say, bisexual?" "No, er, no to bisexual. Yes, I do like being a woman, I can hide behind the fa?ade and relax and I think I understand women, having been Belinda." They chatted for ages, the chemicals getting washed off and Veronique adjusting her handiwork. Then large foam curlers were teased into the hair with a final spritz of more chemicals before he was led under the dryer to finish off the transformation. "Voila", she showed Jim the results. His long, unkempt mousy coloured style was now a warm very dark brown with black streaks, the hair framed his face and swept down in a gentle arc to just below his chin. Soft curls kept the hair in place and it felt very fresh and relaxed. "Thank you," he breathed, "it's lovely." "Now, this style should be easy to maintain but you will need to wash it regularly so that the soft perm can relax. 'opefully, if you come back in 4 weeks' time, we can tease it a bit more and stabilise the colour. You will need some shampoo and conditioner for permed hair and I can 'elp you to restyle it after you wash it if you like." Jim thanked her profusely. "Your ears, they are not pierced!" "I know, but..." "Non, non, it doesn't 'urt - wait 'ere a girl needs to get used to the wonderful feeling of long earrings." Before any protests could be made, both ear lobes had been swabbed and a gun had fired small gold studs into the soft tissue of the ear lobes. "You want more than one?" Veronique asked, smiling. Jim admired the reflection in the salon mirror and smiled back. "No, one's enough. You know how reserved the English are?" Veronique giggled. "Ah, uoi, but I 'ave never met an Eenglees girl quite like you before!" They dissolved into laughter, Jim's control of his voice wavering in a mixture of relief and excitement that his new persona was growing. They chatted a bit more, Veronique insisting on a return visit in the next week to shampoo and set the new hairdo and to complete a manicure and pedicure. The work done, they moved to the checkout and Veronique smiled as she rang up a ridiculously small sum on the till register. Jim tried to complain, but Veronique's firm hand on his manicured nails made it clear it was a treat. "Non, this ees my salon, just the cost of the materials and I want you to be a regular customer. Now you must, no you will come over tomorrow at 6 o clock to 'ave a swim and a meal with Sophie and me, yes?" "OK, and thank you." They kissed lightly on each cheek and Jim, feeling wonderful, swayed his "hips" wildly as he walked out of the mall feeling a million dollars. "Now I know why Jenni spends so much time and money at the hairdressers, I feel great." He mused. Driving back to the villa he called his wife in the UK, but just got the answerphone. So, a light meal in the early evening was followed by a bottle of fresh Sauvignon and sleep beckoned. Catching sight of the hair and the glint of gold earrings at every opportunity Jim changed into a short sapphire blue nightdress and matching panties and fell into a deep sleep. The following morning, the sun traversed the bedroom and once more touched the eyes of a dark haired woman asleep in her bed, Jim's dream was interrupted as he woke quickly, feeling his eyes matted with mascara, " must remember to remove my makeup before I collapse", he thought. The phone rang, it was Jenni. She was sorry that she hadn't been there to talk to Jim the previous day, but business was getting hectic. She needed her passport so Jim assured her it was on the way, they chatted for a short while, Jenni seemed distant but they exchanged kisses over the 'phone and she hung up. Jim got up, shaved close and covered the rest of his body in hair removal cream and waited for the foul-smelling mixture to do its job before a vigorous shower beckoned. Thinking quickly, he covered his new coiffure with a plastic bag, making a mental note to buy one of those shower caps he had seen in the supermarket. He peeled off the breastforms, frowning at the prune like skin beneath before entering the shower and watching the few remnants of unwanted body hair swirl down the drain. A gentle pat of the soft fluffy towel and liberal application of perfumed moisturiser followed and he slipped into a short towelling wrap before returning to the bedroom. Admiring the smooth face framed by soft hair and the glint of earrings, he carefully removed the top half of the wrap and cleansed his upper torso with alcohol wipes, smarting as the cold hit his exposed skin. A fresh spray of silicone adhesive onto the breastforms and his torso and, with some expertise borne of recent practice, he adhered the forms in place, revelling in their weight. Not wishing to lose the firm adhesion, he opened the packages from the previous shopping trips and pulled the swimsuit on, tucking his manhood into the crack of his buttocks and pulling the breastforms into place. The tightness of the swimsuit helped keep everything in its rightful position, but it was clear that the normal female cleavage was not possible. Frowning slightly, he rummaged in his wardrobe and selected a light short sleeved chiffon blouse, one of Jenni's which he could button up to above the breasts to hide the artificiality of the forms. Carefully brushing the new hairdo, he twisted the earring studs as he had been instructed by Veronique to ensure no infection or adhesion. Then a light dusting of powder to hide the shiny reflections, a gentle mauve eyeshadow and a dab of waterproof mascara onto the ends of his lashes, he finished the job with some new pearlescent lipstick in pink. Slipping feet into a pair of high pink mules, he tottered downstairs to a small breakfast of fruit and coffee, then to the terrace where the morning sun was already strong. Setting out a welcoming sun lounger and donning the cream hat bought the previous day, he lay down and closed eyes in relaxation - this is the life and wow, here I am looking like a sophisticated woman sun bathing. He fell asleep again quickly, waking up and hour later to the first prickles of sunburn - quickly entering the house, he realised he had not put on the sun screen. Well, no more sunbathing without risking a severe burn, he went back into the house and proceeded to try to get back to writing - even if the great British public did not want to hear from Belinda Stone, he needed to write! His manicured hands flew over the keyboard of the laptop as he told the story of his flight to France and the excitement of a new life being Belinda full time. He wondered where the article would lead, but just let his thoughts flow into the machine without heed as to the eventual target audience. A couple of hours later the 'phone rang, it was Veronique reminding him of the promise of earlier and stating that dinner was at eight, but to arrive at six with swimwear and a change of clothes. He had no choice but to agree. "Tell me dear," Veronique's smiling voice trilled down the 'phone, "what shall Sophie and I call you?" He thought for a moment, "Belinda is the name I have used for a long time, you can call me Bel." "A Bientot! Bel," Veronique cried and hung up. Six, God that was only an hour away. Oh well, nothing to lose, he kicked off his sandals and ran upstairs to the bathroom to check hair and makeup as well as his legs, arms and torso for unwanted body hair. Not entirely satisfied, he stripped off the swimwear and, standing naked in front of the mirror, he cleansed off the light makeup and, using a fresh razor, shaved his face very closely. Finally satisfied, he took some wide flesh coloured gaffer tape from a roll and cut it to about 10" (4cm) then carefully arranged his penis between his legs, he stretched the tape over the organ and secured it to front and back, wincing in anticipation of the pain it would cause when he had to rip it off. He pulled the swimsuit back on, pleased with the flat front the adhesive tape had given him and the swell of his breastforms, shame about the obvious nature of the forms though. Then into the bedroom for a light brush of waterproorf mascara in a light blue and a light blue eyeshadow, soft peach lipstick and a simple dusting of powder. He examined finger and toenails for chips and touched up a few which were showing signs of wear. Minimal jewellery followed, just a gold necklace and one ring, then he picked out sheer blue panties and matching bra to go under the new floral print dress bought earlier. Putting these in a carrier bag with a simple handbag full of lipstick and makeup essentials, he got a fresh towel from the linen cupboard and pulled the light short-sleeved chiffon blouse back on and placed a soft hat on his head before slipping feet into the sandals and wandering downstairs. Grabbing a bottle of wine and the car keys, he checked his reflection in the mirror and closed the door. Two minutes later, he pulled the car up behind the wall of Veronique and Sophie's house. Before he could knock on the door, it opened and he was enveloped in a warm embrace from Veronique who pulled him inside quickly and released him in front of a Sophie who was wearing a very quizzical expression. "Well, my dear, Veronique has told me everything and I must say I thought you might be a man but you do look very good, I love the swimsuit, come into the garden." Sophie proffered an elegant hand and led the party onto a broad paved area into which was set and azure pool big enough for serious swimming. Jim's eyes opened in awe at the view from the pool across the valley - it was stunning. "Here," Veronique handed over a chilled glass, it was champagne, their eyes met and Jim saw amusement and interest before Sophie broke the reverie. "Shall we toast to women?" Jim laughed and they raised their glasses. "Your name is now Belinda, Bel now?" "Yes, I guess I better explain.." they moved to sit on three smart wooden recliners in the shade of a fig tree as Jim explained Belinda to a quiet but interested Sophie. After he had finished there was silence. "So," Sophie stated, "I see. But your wife, Jennifer, she is still in the UK, no?" "Yes, she has a job and is finding it difficult to get out here," Jim was wondering where the questioning was going. "No matter, I am warm please, try our pool." Jim set his glass down, took off the hat and chiffon blouse and slowly walked to the pool edge, it was very inviting. He stepped down the tiled steps into the warm water and, once the water got to his waist, he pushed off into the water. The unfamiliar weight of the silicone breastforms was accentuated in the prone position forcing a very awkward breaststroke, he heard laughter. "Bel, " shouted Veronique, "please do not drown, natural breasts are normally bouyant!" Veronique and Sophie joined him in the pool and they swam and floated and chatted. Sophie got out and brought three inflatable chairs to the pool and after much laughter as he failed to master the balance needed to stay on one of the beds, they gave up and returned to the poolside. Jim relaxed in the company of the two French women and the early evening wore on as they chatted, mostly about Belinda's exploits in the UK. Sophie disappeared from time to time and then announced that dinner would be ready in 30 minutes or so if they wanted to change out of the swimwear. Jim was now feeling uncomfortable as the water had loosened the gaffer tape under his groin and he needed to visit the bathroom. Veronique led him with his bag to a guest bedroom which had its own bathroom. Stripping quickly, he pulled off the gaffer tape, wincing at the enforced hair removal and, ablutions completed, he dried himself fully on his towel taking advantage of perfumed talcs in the bathroom to ensure all was dry. Rearranging his male attributes between his legs, he pulled on the fresh panties and settled his breastforms into the matching bra. Pulling the cotton dress over his hair, he shuffled his manicure feet into sandals and sat at the vanity table to brush out his new hair which swiftly fell into place. Taking out the makeup bag, he expertly applied subtle shades to his eyelids, retouched his mascara and applied a fine loose powder before a swift flick of blusher and two layers of deep red lipstick. A final twirl of the new stud earrings, a check of finger nail varnish and a spritz of perfume and he felt very, very good. Tripping downstairs to the sound of mid heels on stone stairs, he was greeted by Sophie who had changed into a long white shift dress which made it absolutely clear that there was not much underneath it. "Ah, mon cherie, you look so cool like an elegant English rose." She pecked Jim's cheek and took his manicured hand as she led him into the dining room. The table was littered with salads, breads, meats and bottles of wine. The two French women sat near each other and beckoned Jim to sit opposite. "You know that Sophie and I are lovers?" Veronique said in a direct tone. "I wasn't sure," Jim responded, feeling suddenly a little nervous. "It's just that we have been talking and we would like to make a proposition to you. But first let us eat." They ate in silence, Jim intrigued by their proposition, but enjoying the delicious food and the soft supple local wine. He relaxed in the warm summer's evening, occasionally catching glimpses of himself in the large mirror over the table, a simply dressed but sophisticated woman smiling back at her reflection, the new earrings glinting in the candlelight. Remembering to preserve his figure in the soft folds of the dress, he refused dessert and agreed to a small coffee and a cognac. They retired to the sitting room as darkness fell and Veronique ignited a small welcoming log fire. "Well, Belinda, we shall call you that I think, no?" Sophie raised her glass, Jim responded. "Thank you for the delicious meal, now what is your proposition?" Veronique and Sophie exchanged glances, eventually Veronique spoke. "May I ask you some personal questions?" Jim inclined his head, feeling the earrings move as he did so. "Sophie and I have been together for 5 years and we love our life here, but we yearn to share it." Jim looked startled, the women laughed, "oh non, not with you much as I think you look very pretty. Do you 'ave children with your wife?" "Er, no, why?" "Ah, that is a shame. May we ask why?" "Why do you want to know?" Jim began to get uneasy. "Well, you see we would like children as well, but as you can see that is impossible as we are both women and, we had hoped that as you are a man who wants to look like a woman and we enjoy women, so, maybe, we could seek an arrangement?" Jim's mascaraed eyes widened. "I see, and you want me to er, ..." Sophie laughed, but Veronique seemed very unhappy. "Well, for what it is worth, Jenni, my wife, had ovarian cancer early on in our marriage and the chemotherapy rendered her sterile. We have no idea if I am fertile." "Would you consent to a fertility test, are you taking female hormones at all?" "Oh, no, I enjoy dressing and acting female but I have never taken anything like that." "Good, then we could 'ave a sperm test, oui?" "I guess so, but what about..." "Do not worry, Sophie is a lawyer and she will draw up a contract that will absolve you of any responsibility. We just want to be able to give our love to a small human being and, we are asking you to 'elp us. We have taken to you ever since you first arrived and Sophie knew you were a man right away, we immediately began to think of this as an answer to our dreams. After all, you are a fine-looking woman and we could have some fun trying for a baby." Sophie smiled. "will you help, Belinda? Please?" Jim smiled, the prospect of lesbian sex with these two lovelies was more than he had ever dreamed of and he felt his penis stiffen in the confines of his panties. "OK, how do you want to proceed?" Veronique shrieked and kissed Jim firmly on the lips, Sophie jumped up and held her tight. "I think we should agree a time and place, I 'ave been with a man before, but it was a long time ago. We should meet again once the legals are drawn up and the time is right." "Right?" "Silly, when I am ovulating." Sophie smiled, so it was to be Sophie who would be the mother Jim thought. The rest of the evening passed in rapid chatter as all three engaged in talking, the French women asking about Jim, Jenni and Belinda; Jim, emboldened by the cognac, asking about their lesbian exploits. They parted late in the evening with a promise to drop a draft contract around in the afternoon and to set a date. Jim awoke with a start as the sound of car tyres on gravel broke the quiet reverie of a early morning in South West France. Stepping out of bed in a soft cotton nightdress his manicured fingers ran through the short hair and caught briefly in the long earrings. "must remember to take them out before I go to bed," he mused as he tripped downstairs his red painted toenails shimmering against the stone flags. Opening the front door, he picked up a small parcel and a bundle of letters with a few junk mail items, the weather was warm and the sun had already warmed up the small front patio enough that he decided to sit there and enjoy the rays as he reviewed the post. The parcel was from England, from Jenny. It contained his English passport and a second passport in Belinda Stone's name, opening up the passport, he squealed with delight as it contained a very good photograph of him as Belinda obviously taken during the photo shoots for the Jo Malone cosmetics scam that had caused him to run to France. In addition to the passports was a long, legal looking document with a note attached "Read this first" in his wife's handwriting. He did what he was told. "Hi love. Not sure if I should call you Jim or Belinda. You still full time as Bel? Sorry we haven't spoken much; I have been so busy with work and the Press still comes around a bit to try to get to talk to me about you. Our mutual friend has weaved his magic and as a gesture he got the passport of Belinda for you, so you can be legal - don't ask how he got it. The paperwork is a legal settlement from Jo Malone. They don't want any more publicity and are prepared to drop all the charges if you agree never to write again as Belinda Stone. There's nothing stopping you changing your nom-de-plume but they insist on protecting their name. Our lawyer thinks this is OK - read it and see what you think. If it is all OK, then you could come home (perhaps after a while to allow the dust to settle) - I am missing your company here. How's Cazideroque, sounds lovely but I guess you may be getting a bit lonely. Not really possible to make too many friends if you have to keep up the pretence of being Belinda I suppose? Must dash to get this in the post, I'll call you soon. Love Jenny PS, found the enclosed in your wardrobe!" Behind the sheaf of documents was a small package which, on opening, spilled out a woman's diamond engagement ring and gold band. Jim remembered that, as a 10thwedding anniversary present he had bought Jenny a new set of platinum rings and she had given their first set to him to have altered for his hands so that, when he was Belinda, he remembered that he was still married to her. Jim smiled and slipped the rings onto his left hand. The rest of the mail was normal junk, so he walked inside the house and put the coffee on before running a shower to perform the daily routine of hair removal and freshening up. Later that morning, sitting beneath a wide parasol on the back patio, dressed in a simple cotton dress with a light brush of mascara and gold studs in newly - pierced ears, Jim adjusted his sunglasses as his elegantly manicured and painted nails traced the details of the draft contract he had received this morning. It seemed reasonable; after all, the chances of Belinda Stone getting an agony aunt column in a British newspaper seemed remote. There were a few bits of the contract which were unclear, but a call to the legal team sorted them out and he instructed them to proceed. Veronique called on the 'phone to tell him that the documents they discussed yesterday would take a few days to complete so she would call again when they were ready to discuss. Jim called home in England, but just got the answering machine on which he left a message thanking Jenni for the parcel and asking her to call him that evening. "Hi love..." the phone crackled in Jim's hands as he spoke at last with Jenni, "how are you doing?" "Just fine, things are very nice here and the post this morning gave some nice surprises." "The passport and the contract arrived then?" "Yes, and I am so grateful, saves the embarrassment if I am asked for ID." "You full time as Belinda, then?" "I am, and I must admit I am enjoying it. I have made some good friends as Bel and they know about Jim and are very supportive." "Yes....." Jenni's voice sounded intrigued. "Too complicated to explain over the 'phone, when can I see you?" "You've got me interested, all is much quieter here, let me see and I'll call you." They chatted for a further 20 minutes about Jenni's work and how their friends were keeping then Jenni rang off promising to check out when she could come over to France. The afternoon turned into a cool evening and Jim changed into a warm pair of jeans and a jumper. His routine still ensured he brushed his hair, checked makeup and made a mental note to bathe in the morning to remove tell-tale signs of hair growing on legs and underarms. He settled on a light salmon salad and a glass of local white wine before settling in front of the TV to watch the news in French. Moments later the 'phone rang, it was Veronique. "Bel, ma cherie, we 'ave a friend who is also a doctor. She 'as agreed to see you first thing tomorrow and get a sample to check your fertility. She say you must not drink alcohol for at least 12 hours - is that OK?" Jim gazed wistfully at the remnant of the bottle of wine on the table. "Sure, I have had one glass at about 8 o'clock, so I should be OK." "Very good, then go to bed early and I will collect you tomorrow at say 8.30." Jim sighed, agreed and switched off the TV. He shut down the house and walked upstairs, turning into the bathroom to run a bath. He took off the jeans and jumper, returning to check the bath in bra and panties, adding a softly perfumed gel to the bathwater he sat on the bath edge and opened a bottle of varnish remover proceeding to use cotton buds to remove the deep red, but now cracking, nail varnish from toes and fingers. He then checked his legs and arms before deciding to simply use a lady's razor to cut off the rogue hairs, making a mental note to ask Veronique or Sophie for advice on more permanent removal techniques. He stepped out of the panties and removed the matching bra; wincing slightly, he peeled off the breastforms and massaged the chest below before sinking into the welcoming bubbles of the bath and gently removing leg and arm hairs. An hour later, warmed and cleansed, he stepped into a blue baby doll nightie and fell into bed, setting the alarm for 7.30 the following morning. Veronique smiled and kissed Jim on his cheek. "Ah, I should have told you Janine is very liberal, she would be 'appy to see you as Bel." Jim had wondered what to dress as for this visit but had decided to go as androgynously as possible with loose fitting trousers and shirt with no makeup or varnish and with no earrings. He felt confused, neither Bel nor Jim, and he really missed the feel of his breastforms. As the only concession to his desire to be feminine, he wore a pair of black French knickers under the trousers. They drove silently through the French countryside, Jim feeling increasingly nervous as he realized the import of what he was about to do. Sensing his concern, Veronique smiled reassuringly at him as their tyres crunched on the gravel drive of a smart building in its own, sumptuous grounds. Veronique led the way into a brightly lit reception area where she rattled off some very quick French and they were ushered into a smaller waiting area. Eventually, a stunning beautiful blonde walked into the room, Jim stood instinctively and Veronique kissed the incomer on both cheeks. "Bel, or is it Jim? Meet Janine." Veronique smiled at Jim's obvious discomfort. "Bonjour," whispered Janine, "nice to meet you. The doctor rapidly moved into professional mode and explained what was about to happen - which was fairly straightforward. Veronique smiled encouragement and Jim walked nervously into a small room clutching a sample bottle. The next few minutes were not at all easy; he tried to think of something to turn himself on, that failing he looked around for stimulation but there were just magazines for cars or cameras. He tried every sort of manipulation, but to no avail. Eventually, there was a polite knock at the door. "Bel, are you OK?" It was Veronique. "Er, yes, this isn't easy you know." Jim heard a stifled laugh. A few more failed attempts later, there was another knock at the door. "Jim, it is Janine, I am a good friend of Veronique, may I come in?" Embarrassed, Jim acquiesced and the blonde beauty entered the room. She smiled at him and looked at the empty sample bottle. "Can I 'elp?" Jim shrugged and then smiled as she quickly took off her white coat to reveal a very skimpy pair of panties and a matching balcony bra which barely held her full breasts. She walked over to Jim and pulled off his shirt and trousers, smiling when she saw the black French knickers. "Very pretty, how about we swap clothes?" Without waiting for an answer, she pulled off her panties and bra and handed them to Jim, pointing to his black apparel. Jim quickly pulled off the underwear and handed it to Janine, she smiled at his growing penis. He pulled on the very tight panties and tried, unsuccessfully, to get into the bra but it was far too small. Janine took the initiative and guided him to lie on the small table; she stood over him clad only in his black underwear, her breasts proudly jutting out over him. She leant down and freed his stiffening penis from the tight confines of the white panties and ran her long fingernails up and down the shaft. Jim groaned and felt his penis engorge. "Tres bien, Jim, now let us do this for Sophie and Veronique." Janine grabbed his hard member and began to pump him rhythmically. Jim closed his eyes in pleasure and felt the tensions and passions of the last few weeks wash from him. Very quickly he could feel his climax approaching and he stayed Janine's urgent hands. She smiled at him as he rolled off the table and stood, his engorged member jutting strongly out from the pure white panties. "OK, you hold the bottle and I will help you fill it!" Janine smiled and Jim obeyed as she redoubled her efforts. Soon he grunted hard and grabbed her hand as he pushed the head of his penis into the mouth of the bottle, ejaculating strongly as white fluid ran into the sterile receptacle. He reverentially closed the lid and handed it to Janine. She kissed him gently on the cheek and picked up her bra, fastening it in front before twisting it around and nestling her gorgeous breasts into its welcoming embrace. Jim went to remove the panties. "Non, mon cher, you keep those as a souvenir and I will keep these." Janine smiled as she tapped Jim's French knickers, buttoned up the white coat and, slipping the warm sample bottle into a pocket, she walked out of the room. Jim dressed and sheepishly joined Veronique who kissed him again on the cheek and they drove back to the farmhouse in relative silence. "Bel, thank you for this. Sophie and I appreciate this so much. As a thank you, I have arranged for the salon to be free tomorrow after 4 o'clock. Can you come then and we will give you a fantastic beauty treatment." Jim readily agreed. The following morning, Jim was awoken by the bedside 'phone. "Bel, Jim, it's Jenni, I am on this afternoon's flight - can you pick me up from at 6 o'clock?" "Sure, that's great, see you then." Jim fell out of bed, oh God, what to do? He looked at his reflection in the mirror seeing a dishevelled woman in need of a brush in her hair, her makeup mussed and yet still looking good in a black nightie. The 'phone rang again. "Bel, Sophie, you OK for this afternoon?" "What, oh yes, er, listen I need help, Jenni my wife arrives at 6." "Mon dieu, wait," the line went quiet, "we will be there in 20 minutes, get dressed in a simple dress and no makeup." Jim agreed and ran a quick shower, removed his makeup and slipped into a soft yellow sundress, brushed his hair and waited for the car. The whirlwind that was Sophie and Veronique on a mission arrived moments later. They drove manically into town; Sophie ran off as Veronique opened the salon and swiftly cancelled a number of appointments. Jim was rushed into treatment rooms to have even more painful waxings and sculptings. Sore but very smooth, Jacquie, Veronique's assistant, applied gels and volumisers to his slowly growing locks changing them to blonde with dark highlights. Then, when almost dry, she started to knot long hair extensions until his hair was shoulder length and a curly permed streaky blonde. Next the false nails were taken off and replaced with longer talons wrapped in a strong-smelling acrylic and painted blood red. Next toe nails were shaped and matched and the sexiest makeup Jim had ever seen made his face look sultry and alluring. A final spritz with perfume and he was handed long dangly earrings and a matching bracelet by Sophie, who smiled and pointed to an armful of shopping with designer labels. The day was rapidly running out as Jim tried on dress, suit and trouser combinations trying his best not to mark the clothes with his makeup or to muss hair or varnished nails. Eventually, the agreed on a very smart cream trouser suit with a darker silk camisole and cream 3" sandals. The other purchases were whisked away and final touches were made to makeup, hair and nail varnish. "Voila, Bel, you look beautiful." Sophie smiled. "Veronique, Sophie, how can I ever thank you?" "You know the answer to that, Janine called earlier, your count is very good," Sophie squealed and all three girls hugged. "Now, Bel, you better go and get Jenni, she will be surprised, no?" Jim drove carefully in the new heels, marvelling at the occasional glances he had of himself in the mirror and the feel of the sheer fabric of his trousers on his waxed legs. Arriving early at the airport terminal, he parked up and entered the small terminal, ordering a small cappuccino from the caf?. The small plane landed from the UK and he saw Jenni disembark, moments later she walked into the arrivals room and she looked around. Jim decided to stay seated and watch as Jenni searched the waiting people before walking outside to look out at the arriving traffic. Jim could no longer control himself; he took a compact out of his handbag and checked makeup and hair, touching up his lipstick, then walked carefully out to stand beside Jenni, who turned and smiled at him, then her eyes widened. "My God, Bel, you look fabulous!" They embraced and kissed, drawing disapproving looks from the other remaining passengers, then holding hands then walked to the car, Jenni gazing at her husband in disbelief as he walked primly in heels, his long blonde hair flowing in the breeze, his manicured nails glinting in the French sunlight as his smile played on ruby red lips. On the drive back to the house, Jim chatted animatedly about all that had happened in the weeks since he had fled from the UK. His eyes on the road, he did not notice the smile spreading across Jenni's face as she gazed in admiration and disbelief at the attractive blonde woman her husband now seemed. They reached the house quickly and after a perfunctory tour and the pouring of a glass of chilled wine, Jenni finally managed to break into the monologue. "Bel, I have never seen you so happy or so excited. Your new friends have obviously helped you look and feel as fabulous as you are, you make me feel a downright dowdy English woman. Almost any girl I know would kill to look half as good as you do. What does this mean, do you think?" "Sorry, don't follow you." Jim was openly confused, a long elegant finger playing with his earring. "Come on love, I have always known how important being Bel is to you, is what I am seeing here what you want to become full time?" "I honestly don't know. I feel liberated, I love how I look and how I feel and, yes, I adore wearing the clothes that I can now wear. But I am not sure what you are getting at." "Jim, I can't call you Jim what you look like that; Bel, I think we need to talk about our future as man and wife." "Go on." "This is hard for me. I have always loved you and admired you and, yes, even when it became clear to me that Bel was more than just a fantasy figure who you liked to dress up as. I am very pleased that you have found Bel and that she can look so good now, your early attempts were, to say the least, embarrassing. Now, no-one would suspect who you really are and most men would want to get into your panties - but then they'd get a shock wouldn't they?" Jenni smiled and Jim looked uncomfortable. "I am a woman and I need a man to look after me, I am not sure about living with someone who is neither one thing nor another. Can you understand that?" Jenni had a small tear forming in her eye; Jim passed her a tissue from Jim's handbag. "I can understand, what do you want me to do, I love you and I will get rid of Bel if that would make things right." "Love, I don't want you to make such a sacrifice for me, I could try to live with the fact of Bel - I have lived with that but, well, since you have been away I have had time to think and to talk with someone." "Who?" Jim was instantly suspicious. "David" "David, my publisher? What's going on?" "Oh love, I am so sorry I had to come out and tell you, we have become lovers." Jim was stunned, a tear forming in his eyes. "David, and you, why?" "I can't explain it, you being away, me alone and knowing you were having fun as Belinda; he was helpful and friendly and, well, you know." "No, I don't actually." Jim felt his anger rising and controlled it with a strong effort. "Darling, I am so sorry but I had to tell you. I don't know what to do except to be honest and talk to you like we always have done." She smiled wanly and moved to embrace her husband; Jim backed away. "I am not sure; this is a blow and I need to think. Let's get something to eat and relax, I'll change into something more comfortable and you can unpack and freshen up and we can talk some more." Jenni emitted a low sob and ran upstairs; Jim felt completely confused, not sure whether to run after her, stay put, get changed, take off the women's clothing or what. He opted to stay put and relaxed when he heard the shower running. He quickly went upstairs and changed into the simple yellow sun dress, touched up his makeup and brushed his hair, taking care with the long extensions. He fixed a light supper of cheese and bread and wine and laid it all out on the patio where the sun was slowly setting over the valley. Jenni appeared, also in a light floral dress and they smiled at each other, she took the proffered wine and they both dug into the food, eating silently. "I love what they have done to your hair, those extensions?" "Yes, only put in today so I am not used to them really." "Nice dress." "Yes, bought it locally, there are some good shops as well as LeClerc." The small talk continued and they relaxed more in each other's company. No more mention was made of Jenni's revelation of her infidelity but then Jim had not mentioned his experience at the sperm testing clinic either. They chatted and Jim regaled her of the experiences he has had as Belinda in France; it was getting late and Jenni stifled a yawn. "Come on, time for bed." He ushered Jenni upstairs and completed the ritual of closing the house down for the night. Not entirely sure what to do next, Jim slipped out of the sun dress and removed the light bra and panties, changing into a soft peach satin nightie with matching panties. He carefully removed makeup and earrings and brushed his long hair, taking care with the extensions. Checking in the mirror, his ritual continued with cleansers and night creams, examining his long nails for tell-tale chips in the varnish he removed the rings, keeping on his marriage band. He turned as he heard a noise from the bedroom door; Jenni was standing there in a simple cotton night dress devoid of makeup. "I am jealous, you look better than most women I know and you certainly take care of your appearance." She smiled. "Jim, I don't know what to say or do any more. Can I come to bed with you just for a cuddle?" Jim smiled and finished applying the last drops of night cream, stood and with the nightgown gliding over the floor, went over to Jenni and took her hand, guiding her to the bed. They lay together in each other's' arms, Jim fighting the desire to make love to her. Jenni was asleep in an instant, but Jim's mind was whirring over the consequences of the day's revelations; what was going to happen to them, how did he feel about being Belinda full time, did he want a sex change?? It was all too much and, after what seemed like hours, he gently rolled Jenni over and slipped out of bed. The night was warm and clear and he opened the front door to breathe in the heady aromas from the flowers deep in the valley below. Jim was restless and felt that he needed to get out to clear his head, so he quietly slipped upstairs and, with Jenni's prostrate form unmoving on the bed, he quickly grabbed his handbag, underwear, a light t-shirt and cardigan and a pair of jeans. Back downstairs, he slipped into bra and panties, pulled on the t-shirt and jeans and wrapped the sleeves of the cardigan around his neck. Another careful brush of his long hair and an automatic swipe of lipstick, he pulled on a pair of stout walking shoes making a mental note to buy a more feminine pair and then walked out of the house into a brilliant night full of stars but with no moon. Over to the car, he pulled the key out of his handbag and opened the door, got in and released the handbrake, allowing the slope of the hill to take the car slowly to the bottom before firing up the engine. He drove carefully along the deserted country roads enjoying the wind through the open window when a deer broke cover from the left and he almost hit the animal. He braked sharply and the car skidded a little on the gravel, finally coming to a halt partially in a ditch. Regaining his composure, he restarted the stalled engine and engaged gear, but to no avail, the nearside wheels were in a deep rut and there was no traction to be had. "Damn." He got out of the car, examined his predicament with a torch he found in the glove compartment and realized the car was not for moving. He mentally retraced his route back to the villa and decided it was walkable; however, his handbag was devoid of his mobile phone, so he had no choice but to walk back. The night air was a little chilly now, a breeze had sprung up, and so he pulled on the cardigan and increased his walking pace to generate some body heat. The roads and countryside looked different as a pedestrian but he walked briskly on, but he could feel his hairless arms getting cold and his satin smooth thighs were also feeling the impact of the cool night air. He checked in his handbag for a pair of tights without success, so he redoubled his walking speed, adjusting his bra straps tighter to try to minimize the bounce of his silicone breastforms. He was getting out of breath and getting colder, this was not good and his torch was starting to lose power. "Shit", he thought, and looked around for somewhere to stop. The meagre beam of the torch, together with the reflected star light, picked out the ghostly outline of an old church or abbey. He made his way along the remnants of a path off the road, finding himself eventually at some crumbling walls and a small door which had seen better days. Pushing it open, he had the first luck of the evening (and the last!) as the door gave way into a dark dank room. He pushed the door closed to shut out the wind and involuntarily shivered. With the torch light fading he explored deeper into the room, discovering more doors and rooms but no sign of people or any form of heat. It was about the fifth or sixth room he had entered when the floor gave way and he fell; that was the last he remembered... Hours....days, he did not know when he awoke and in severe pain. His left leg was throbbing and he ached all over. It was completely pitch black and he could see absolutely nothing. He reached out with his hands, feeling the rough surface of rocks and debris. He tried to move but his body screamed in pain, he tried calling out and heard his voice echo as if from within a huge hall. Where was he? He knew that he must have lapsed into unconsciousness because, when he woke, he felt stiffer in his joints but in less pain and his mouth was incredibly dry. What to do? He tried to sit up and, with a grunt, successfully raised his torso, his hair cascaded in front of his face and he brushed it to one side, tasting dried blood on his lips. There was still no light but he tried to crawl forward on hands and knees, wincing as his scratched and torn hands felt gingerly over stones and obstacles. His legs were fine, thank God, the ankle of his left leg hurt like hell, but he didn't think anything was broken. He had to get out of wherever he was and he really needed a drink of something. Crawling forward his hand touched the torch, that was lucky! He pushed the switch, but nothing, the batteries must have failed or the bulb broke. Concentrating in the dark, his hands shaking, he unscrewed the top of the torch - all felt OK and, yes, a spare bulb in the head of the unit. Carefully so as not to drop anything, he removed the old bulb and with delicate movements, replaced the new bulb; reassembling the torch and switching it on delivered a pale light. With great care he swung the torch around to reveal a very large room full of shelves and what seemed like large glass jars. Mindful of the failing torch, he quickly hobbled to a nearby desk and switched off the light as his hands rummaged over the desk surface and into drawers which seemed full of papers. A lamp fell under his probing fingers and smashed on the floor, must be more careful. More feeling and probing and opening doors to nearby cupboards revealed more paper and some odd apparatus in glass; then what felt like an old rusty unit on top of a gas cylinder - maybe he was in luck! His hands felt over the mechanism and he risked some of the failing battery life, yes, a big gas cylinder with something on top of it, he looked carefully and saw it was indeed a sort of free-standing gas heater and it had its own firing mechanism. With some trepidation, he turned off the torch and pushed the lever - a spark erupted into the heater! Excited, he prayed that the cylinder was not empty and then opened the valve pushing the lever vigorously, with "whumph" the heater ignited and started to glow orange - Jim emitted a whimper of delight. He opened the gas valve and relished the increasing glow and heat - he had forgotten how cold he was! The warm glow from the fire partially illuminated the room, which was very dusty and housed some desks and cupboards which his stumbling had disturbed, and row upon row of glass jars full of a light amber fluid alongside which were clearly chemical synthesis equipment. Further down the room were more gas cylinders chained to a wall and a huge chest freezer against the wall; he could sense more space beyond the glow of the heater. He was still very thirsty, but nothing seemed to hand except the glassware and the amber fluid; he limped up to one of the jars and, taking a beaker, opened the tap to allow some of the fluid to run into the beaker. Carefully bringing it up to his nose, it smelt a little but tasted quite strongly of urine - he was so thirsty; he wrinkled his nose and drank the lot, repeating the action four times. Momentarily sated, he explored the area more fully and found electrical switches, none of which seemed to work, and more storage areas one of which was full of what seemed to be nun's habits. Sensing the cold, he pulled one long garment over his torn jeans and cardigan, it felt damp so he brought a few more over to the fire and laid them on chairs to dry out. Now energized, he started looking for food; he had found warmth and a sort of water so he needed food to survive. The chest freezer seemed logical and it took all of his strength and a nearby metal stay to prize it open. It was full of frozen (or rather previously frozen) foodstuffs all of which had defrosted long ago but, because of the sealed nature of the freezer, had not gone completely rotten. He scrabbled at the packages, noticing his broken fingernails with cracked and worn varnish, opening the first and trying a bite of what seemed like dried meat - it wasn't too bad. His searches continued over the next few hours, finding hordes of black lace shoes, damp but serviceable and sensible women's underwear and more jars of the fluid, but no obvious route out of the room except for the collapsed roof area through which he had fallen, which was full to the top with rubble. Luckily there were also stacked high pallets of canned items whose labels were barely readable but seemed to be foodstuffs. Feeling tired and getting cold again, he returned to the heater and pulled off the woollen habit and his torn jeans, t-shirt and cardigan. His bra strap had broken and one of the breastforms was coming off, so he removed both of them and dressed in layers of the cotton underwear and a new woollen habit which had now dried in front of the heat. He pulled on a pair of thick black tights and laced up a pair of the black shoes - that felt warm and comfortable so he sat down in the chair and was promptly asleep. Hours later he awoke to semi darkness, the gas cylinder had burned out but the fire still glowed. He quickly connected a new cylinder from the stash against the wall and rekindled the flame - he would need to conserve this valuable resource so he took down a number of the glass jars and proceeded to disassemble the wooden trestles on which they sat to create a proper wood fire - there was plenty of material and he soon had a warm fire in the centre of the room. He drank more of the amber fluid and ate sparingly of the semi hard dried meats; he knew this had to be temporary - he had to find a way out. Time (he had no idea of day or night) passed slowly as he found more stores of dried fruits and yet more glass jars. He had gotten used to the sharp flavour of the fluid but he knew water was very important. He had examined every nook and cranny in the room, there was no obvious way out, but air must be seeping into the room for the fires to work but, he surmised, the room may have been hermetically sealed (hence little rot) - the seal being broken when he fell in all those days (or was it weeks?) ago. So, maybe, the only way out was back the way he had come. He had given up on any form of rescue, Jenni would have eventually raised the alarm and they may well have found the car in the ditch but he had walked miles from that point, but he hoped that someone was still looking. He felt stronger now and had ensured he ate as well as he could and drunk as much of the fluid as he could stomach. Most of the cans were peaches in a syrup but some were meat and he found an old screwdriver to open them. He had also found some journals in one of the storage areas, written in a clear feminine hand in French. His rudimentary grasp of the written language allowed him to work through what was clearly an inventory of the glass jars and analyses of their contents without understanding exactly what this was. The cover and some memoranda made it clear to him that this used to be some form of nunnery and the nuns were collecting this fluid for processing and onward sale. The last entry seemed to be in the early 1960's. He set himself a routine, waking and drink the fluid before restocking the fire from the embers and then toileting in a far corner of the room behind some cupboards. Then a snack from the food store, more fluid and then an hour or so's work to move the rubble and to construct a stairway of sorts from blocks to allow him access to the roof some 10 metres above. He continued to feel fairly well, his hands were ravaged by the work and his skin felt very dirty - he had tried to wash in the amber fluid but the stench was unbearable. His skin felt tough although he was surprised that his beard growth was very minimal and certainly his body hair had hardly regrown. He had felt lethargic for a number of days and his nipples were very sore which he had blamed on the woollen fabric of the dress material. Days and weeks went by until his makeshift pile was capable of ascent to the roof; he needed to be extra vigilant once he tried to remove the blocks closing off the hole through which he had fallen. The painstaking process of loosening heavy blocks and getting them out of the way whilst debris kept falling was tiring and very dusty. He drank copious quantities of the fluid and the process took much longer; looking back he realised that this phase must have taken six to eight weeks of almost constant effort. Eventually, his hands reached through a gap and felt nothing but open space. He redoubled his efforts and pulled enough material aside to be able to look through the gap. It was pitch dark in there but maybe it was one of the rooms he had stumbled through before falling. The subsequent days were spent widening the opening and bringing up wood and kindling materials to enable a fire to be lit once he could get into the room. After having planned the next phase carefully, he slept for what he hoped was the last time in his dungeon. Waking, he drank plenty of fluid, filling the pockets of a new dress with sealed bottles of the precious drink and some food. He tied a knapsack full of more fluid and food and, brandishing a glowing ember from the fire, climbed the rock pile and squeezed himself and the meagre possessions through into the room, pushing the ember into the waiting fire which took immediately. Jim saw a closed room with a small door at one end, walking carefully - he had lost a lot of weight in the deep recesses of the building and he did not want to fall though another floor - he pulled the door open and his fire glowed into another room casting his long shadow. There was no sign of any light anywhere! He took a piece of burning wood and walked to the next door, and the next - no light at all! Eventually he smelt a warm damp odour - it was rain!! He pulled open the last door and pushed his burning wood into the air, it was almost immediately snuffed out by a torrential downpour, Jim fell into the open, revelling in the warm soft rain - no wonder he could see nothing, it was night-time! Relieved and exhilarated, he held himself from running out into the dark - he did not want to lose the work he had done, so he went back to the burning fire in the building and fell asleep in front of the glow, waiting for dawn. Dawn broke and the unfamiliar light filtering under the door made Jim wince and screw up his eyes. Staggering into the brightness, he raised his hands to the sky and whooped with delight. Stumbling through the thick undergrowth surrounding the derelict building which had been his prison for these endless days, he spied a river and kicking off shoes and pulling off the woollen dress he jumped into the cool clear stream up to his waist and vigorously rubbed the grime from hands and face and hair. Removing the vestiges of clothing and seeing his body for the first time in ages, he was surprised at the shrinkage in his penis and testicles - they had almost disappeared! In addition, he had definite swellings on his chest - small but definite breasts, what had happened?? A sound broke his reverie; it was a car driving along the nearby road! He quickly jumped from the river pulling the woollen dress over his head and ran to the road, he had missed it but he recalled roughly where he was. Back to the river side and donning some shoes, he walked back along the road and tried, unsuccessfully, to flag down a passing vehicle. Eventually one stopped and, in halting French, he asked for help. The driver, a woman, was obviously shocked at his appearance and drove him quickly to a doctor's surgery in the local town. He was seen immediately and then all hell broke loose, an ambulance was called and he was whisked to the nearby hospital where they quizzed him on who he was and where he had been. He was given sedatives and allowed to rest and eat when he could, this seemed to take minutes but Jim learned later that he was sedated for almost a week whilst they rehydrated him. He told them he was called Jim and asked to be able to contact his wife, but the phone number he gave them was no longer in use. Eventually, an efficient female doctor ushered everyone out of his room and two nurses came in to help him clean up and have a luxuriant bath. He saw himself in the mirror just as he stepped in the bath and for the first time in ages he was shocked at the sight of a gaunt drawn face, waist - long dark filthy hair. He was equally shocked at the small pert breasts, wide hips and tiny male genitalia that reflected back at him. Bath over and hair cleansed and wrapped in a towel, he accepted a cotton nightdress and panties and a warm towelling robe from the nurses who seemed unfazed by his appearance. They quickly left when the female doctor entered. "Ah, Jim, you 'ave 'ad an adventure, no?" Jim smiled feebly. "You may be wondering pour quoi you 'have, er, how shall I say zees, changed your shape?" She smiled at him. "Yes", he whispered, noting his voice was quieter and higher than he remembered. "Well, you fell into an old nunnery which was closed down many years ago. We knew of them but never suspected that there were stores of product." "Product?" "Yes, in the early days of fertility treatment - before the, er, pill, some companies developed contraceptives from the urine of menstruating women. The best source being groups of unmarried women, such as nuns, as they often menstruated at the same time. They had a mechanism for storing and concentrating the hormones." "The amber fluid!" Jim's eyes widened. "Yes, the water that has kept you alive contained a very high concentration of female hormones. You have been swallowing these regularly for almost 4 months!" "4 months - my god is that how long I have been down there?" "Yes, you were lucky to get out; I hear that the roof of your chamber fell in yesterday!" "Jim, I have to tell you that the amount of hormones you have taken mean that changes have happened in your body and we are not sure that they can be reversed. This is particularly true of your testicles which have reduced so much that they are no longer producing the male hormone. We can, of course, put you on hormone treatment but you will remain infertile." The doctor smiled at him. "I am sorry to tell you this. We can start returning your body to being male soon." Jim looked at her, his mind whirring. "I see, and if I didn't take the male hormone?" "You would stay as you are, we think." "And if I continued to take female hormones?" She looked at him, "Well, I am no expert here but I would think you would continue to grow breasts, small ones, and your body would become more rounded but you would never be fully female." "I see," Jim smiled at her, "maybe that has helped me make a decision I needed to make months ago." In the weeks that followed, Jim was visited by Sophie and Veronique who pledged to help as much as they could. Sophie was pregnant and admitted that, after Jim went missing, they had consulted Janine, the pretty blonde doctor who had performed Jim's sperm test. She had stored his sample and they had agreed to try to use it - successfully! Jenni arrived at the hospital weeping tears of joy and sorrow. She told Jim the story of how she found herself alone in the villa and how Sophie had called round, of the ensuing searches for Jim and her eventual return to the UK. She had moved in with David and she was happy with him but she did not know what to do now that Jim had returned. Jim told Jenni of his decision, to take the effects of the hormones he had been exposed to in the nunnery to their ultimate conclusion - he was decided that he would go all the way for full reassignment surgery and to live out the rest of his life as Belinda Stone. Jenni had cried when Jim agreed to offer her a divorce; they parted as friends with Jim insisting on an invitation to the wedding. When Jim told Sophie and Veronique of his decision, they both wept with joy and insisted, as father to the new baby, Jim came to live with them as a member of a unique family "unit".