Date: Sun, 25 Jun 2006 14:26:03 -0500
From: C Johnson <ih35w@hotmail.com>
Subject: Alone in Paradise - TG Story

This story, which includes explicit sex, is free
to all who enjoy crossdressing.  Those who are
uncomfortable with crossdressing or explicit sex
should not read this story.  Comments are welcome;
please e-mail them to Cindi at "IH35W@hotmail.com"


Alone in Paradise
______________

 By Cindi Johnson, Dallas Texas,  June 2006


Part 1-      Dateline:  Chicago


Dusk had settled comfortably upon the rundown
neighborhood in southwest Chicago. The dimly lit
restaurant was empty save for three men and a young
lady, and a staff of just two. Outside a light snow
was falling, unusual for this late in the spring.

The four customers had entered a few minutes
earlier. Two of the men went to the bar and ordered
a pitcher of beer. The young woman and the third
man sat at a table perusing the menu.

Suddenly there was a series of loud claps,
accompanied by the sound of shattering glass.
Instinctively the four customers threw themselves
to the floor. There were more gunshots. One or more
must have shattered light bulbs, as the room
suddenly dimmed, leaving only twilight entering
shattered windows to illuminate the room

Thomas had a gun, but using it never entered his
mind. He had never in his life fired one. Instead
he followed his young co-worker, crawling along the
floor and into a nearby door. He was only inches
behind Josie as she entered the sanctuary. The room
they entered was well lit; Thomas noticed the pink
walls, the stalls, and full length mirrors and
realized he had found safety in the woman's rest
room. He followed Josie and together they hid in
the stall furthest from the door. Sporadic bursts
of gunfire continued for another four or five
minutes followed by an eerie silence. Thomas
noticed his hands trembling.


Part 2.    Consequences

I awoke to a loud knock on my hotel room door. I
opened the door and Eduardo entered. "Jim's being
treated by a doctor who has history with Carlos,"
he said.

"That's good," I said. "He'll recover, then?"

"We'll see."

"Look, Eduardo, I'm sorry. Maybe I should have
reacted differently."

"Give me the gun," he commanded.

"What?"

"The gun. Give it to me."

I retrieved the gun from my briefcase and handed it
to Eduardo. He deftly removed the clip and emptied
the chamber, then stuck it into his waistband.

"Look," he said calmly, "you fucked up. I gave you
a gun. You should have used it."

"But I don't know how! I didn't expect to use that
gun. What the hell, I'm an accountant!"

"God gave me a prick. He expects me to use it. I
gave you a gun. You didn't use it."

"OK, OK! I fucked up," I said in exasperation. I'll
quit. You can find another accountant."

"No," Eduardo stated with clear authority. "You
leave only if Carlos allows. What Carlos says,
happens. If Carlos says I break you neck, I break
your neck."  Eduardo turned and walked towards open
door.

"I could contact the police, you know."

"You work for Carlos. No person who works for
Carlos ever goes to police." The tone of his voice
clearly relayed the threat.  Eduardo left the room.


 Part 3

Later, as he looked back at events, Thomas realized
the clues were there, like ripe apples waiting to
be plucked from the tree.  Take Carlos, his
employer, owner of a conglomerate based in
Saltillo, Mexico. Thomas had been hired by one of
Carlos' businesses, a small venture capital company
based in Dallas. Thomas' job was to review the
books of the firms which the venture capital
company invested in. Thomas had thought the job a
good opportunity for a recent accounting graduate
like himself. He never thought to ask the obvious
questions: how had Carlos acquired such wealth? How
did Carlos earn the money he invested in the U.S.?

Had Thomas done some research he could have learned
that Carlos was alleged to be one of Mexico's top
narco-trafficers.  Thomas would have known that
Carlos was known far and wide for brutality. Thomas
would have known, or at least suspected, that the
firm which hired him was little more than a high-
tech loan shark operation.

Another clue overlooked by Thomas was the gun.
Eduardo was stocky with dark complexion and
pockmarked face. Jim, Eduardo's assistant, was a
tall black man with a scar on his neck that
extended from his ear to somewhere below his
collar. When Thomas became a member of the
"business review" team, Eduardo gave Thomas a .38
caliber revolver. Thomas accepted the pistol,
assuming that Eduardo was just exceptionally
paranoid.

Thomas' first trip out of town was to Philadelphia,
followed two weeks later by the trip to Chicago.
During these out-of-town trips Thomas came to know
Josie, a beautiful, gregarious, and ever cheerful
young lady. In contrast, the other members of the
traveling team, Eduardo and Jim, remained aloof.

The business review team functioned simply: Josie
made travel arrangements and was involved in any
interviews of females, while Thomas reviewed the
books. Eduardo held interviews with management.
Jim, Thomas realized with hindsight, was there
solely to intimidate.


Part 4.

"What? Are you serious, Josie? You must be
kidding!" Tom's wavering voice betrayed his fear.

"No, Tom, it's true. I know it's odd, but give it a
chance, OK? I did my best to get Carlos to back
off. He agreed to this lesser punishment only as a
favor to me. I thought you'd be pleased."

"Pleased? You say I must dress like a woman, and I
should be pleased! Josie, that's the dumbest thing
I've ever heard. Ever!"

A frown formed on Josie's girlish face. Although
Josie was 23, she was so slender, with a face so
pretty, that she could easily be mistaken as a high
school student. She had the pure black hair of a
Mexican, yet was unusually light skinned. Her lips,
full and sensuous, were always painted with bright
red lipstick, while dark mascara highlighted her
expressive eyes. "Thomas, please listen," she said,
"you'll have fun, and this way I'll have a
girlfriend to chum with when we're on the road."

"Josie, I'm not your girlfriend. Jesus!"

"You know, Thomas, Eduardo is really upset. He
blames you. He told Carlos that if you had managed
to get a few shots off, instead of hiding in the
ladies room, Jim wouldn't have been hit."

"Well, I'm sorry I hid in the rest room. I didn't
want to get killed, Josie."

"I know, Thomas. I tried to explain. Carlos
eventually said that if you agree to my idea, then
he'll command everyone to leave you alone and treat
you like.."

"Yes.," I prompted Josie to continue.

"To treat you like a girl. Or a woman, you know.
Like a female, Thomas."

"And if I don't agree to all this?"

"Well, you know, Thomas, it's not nice, I'm afraid.
Jim says he'll kill you once his shoulder heals.
Eduardo suggests breaking your legs and arms, for
beginners. Carlos said he'd have someone rearrange
your face, permanently, and then kill you when you
recover.

All color drained from Thomas' face. Josie's tone
of voice made it very clear that she was not
joking.

"I could go to the police, Josie," Thomas said in a
whisper.

"I suppose you could, Thomas. But Carlos will
destroy you if he so chooses. He has a wide network
of thugs. USA, Mexico, Canada, Columbia. And he's
very well connected; most police and many
politicians stand with Carlos. Maybe you could move
overseas, maybe to Iceland or Australia. I don't
know. I tried to help you, Thomas. I didn't think
you'd mind this type of punishment so much. When he
finally agreed to my idea, Carlos said "well, if he
prefers to hide in a girls' bathroom, I suppose
it's only fitting that he be a girl"."

Thomas stared at Josie. She had always been so
cheerful and perky. But tonight she looked grim.
Josie's mother was Carlos' sister, which is how
Josie got the job in Dallas. Josie had grown up in
San Antonio and she planned to return there after
she had saved up some money during the summer. She
liked her job but missed her family and friends in
San Antonio. She didn't know anyone in Dallas. The
prospect of having a girlfriend for the summer,
even if the girlfriend was actually a boy, excited
Josie, which is why she proposed the solution to
Carlos. Plus, she sincerely did not want Thomas to
get hurt, or worse, by Eduardo or his thugs.


Part 5.   Patricia Tells Her Story

I closely followed Josie as she entered the large
Nordstrom department store. The streets and
sidewalks were mostly empty on this cool Sunday
morning. Josie chatted excitedly while I, wide-eyed
and apprehensive, remained mostly silent. I had not
slept well and, per Josie's instructions, had woken
early to carefully shave all my body hair, and had
then applied a scented moisturizing lotion which
Josie had given me.

Josie entered the lingerie department. It was huge,
with aisles of bras of assorted brands, styles and
colors, thousands of panties all of different
styles and colors, and many other feminine garments
that I didn't recognize.

"I truly love the selection here, Thomas," said
Josie. "We'll be able to find the perfect fit for
you. We're lucky that you're so slender and that
you aren't muscular."

"Josie," I suggested quietly, as if I were a spy in
enemy territory, "why don't you pick out what I
need. I'll wait at the food court."

"No way! These will be your clothes, not mine."

A clerk approached and asked Josie if she needed
assistance. She was a stylishly dressed young woman
with reddish-blond hair cut short in a punk-like
style. "I suppose," Josie answered. "We'll need a
number of bras, panties, slips, a couple of half-
slips, a teddy., oh, and a nightie. But first, do
you sell silicone breast inserts?"

The clerk, her name tag said "Kara", glanced  at
Josie's breasts. "Yes, we do. I'd guess you're a
size B now. Were you thinking of increasing your
cup size to a C or a D?"

"Oh, no," Josie laughed. "I'm very happy with my
titties, even if they are a bit small. No, the
breast inserts are for my friend here."

"For you," she asked, looking towards me. "You want
breasts?"

"Yes, ma'am," I stammered.

The young lady mumbled something, then asked us to
follow her into a fitting room. Se had me remove my
shirt, then measured my chest area."

"It appears a 38 will fit your friend," the girl
said to Josie. "What cup size will he have?"

"Well, I have B cups and I wouldn't want Thomas to
have bigger breasts than me," Josie said with a
giggle, so let's make Thomas a 38B."

Soon Kara returned with two white boxes and a lacy
white bra. I put my arms through the bra straps,
then Josie, standing behind me, hooked the bra.
"Here," Kara said to Josie, "I'll let you put these
in. I don't think I should be touching your
boyfriend's breasts."

"Well, soon he'll be my girlfriend, won't you,
Thomas?"

"Yes, Josie, I suppose so," I said softly as Kara
grinned. The silicone inserts filled the cups of
the bra nicely. I felt one of my new tits; they
felt soft, almost like Jan's. The bra came with a
matching set of panties; both were covered with
embroidered flowers, and each had a tiny red bow;
on the bra it was placed between the cups, while on
the panties it was on the waistband just below my
navel.

I struggled to put on a pair of pantyhose, causing
a long run to form. Kara had me remove them and try
again with a new pair. Josie helped, teaching me to
roll up the legs first before slipping my feet in.
"You know," Kara said to Josie, "I've had my
boyfriend run my pantyhose trying to get them off
me. Your boyfriend is the first guy I've seen ruin
pantyhose while trying to get them on." Josie
giggled. I kept silent, deeply embarrassed by my
predicament.

My thoughts returned to the gunfight. I should have
fought back. Eduardo was right, I had wimped out.
Better had I taken a bullet in the shoulder, as Jim
did, then end up as Josie's living Barbie doll.

After selecting a half dozen bras, a dozen panties,
and several slips, half-slips, a teddy, a ruffled
nightgown, and a number of pairs of pantyhose, it
was time to select my  "outfits".

"So," Kara asked Josie, "what most becomes Thomas,
skirts or slacks?"

"Skirts, most definitely. Hs legs are too sexy to
hide beneath pants."

"But Josie," I said, "slacks would be easier for
me, don't you think?"  While I had been mostly
clueless as the girls discussed things such as
whether an underwire bra would provide the best
fit, or whether bikini panties would sufficiently
hide my "unusual vagina", even I knew the
difference between slacks and skirts. "I'd feel
less embarrassed in slacks," I added. "Please,
Josie."

"No, no, no, Thomas. You must leave these matters
up to me. I've been a girl a whole lot longer than
you. You're new at this. Believe me, you'll look
much better in a skirt or a dress. Now hush up and
let me select a few pretty outfits for you."

I turned red with shame as Kara, grinning, watched
Josie treat me like a little girl. Kara stared at
me, standing in the dressing room wearing a pale
pink slip. "Doesn't your friend have a more
feminine name," she asked.  "Thomas doesn't seem to
fit his new look."

"That's so true, Kara," Josie agreed. "Thomas, you
need a new name. A girl's name. Maybe you could be
"Kara", as a compliment to our very helpful
salesgirl."

"Oh, please," Kara protested, "I don't want a guy
going around using my name."

"Well, how about Mary. That's a truly feminine
name," Josie continued.

"Mary is my wife's middle name, Josie. Please don't
call me Mary," I pleaded.

"Your wife? You have a wife," Kara said, obviously
surprised. "Does she know that you're a sissy?"

I didn't respond. What could I say? I just looked
away from Kara. Eventually the two girls settled on
"Patricia", and from that moment on neither ever
again referred to me as Thomas.

It took several hours for Josie to select my
outfits. Kara helped when not assisting other
customers. Another young salesgirl (who found it
impossible not to giggle each time I tried on
something different) also assisted us.

After finishing, Josie allowed me to put my male
clothes back on, although she forced me to wear a
bra, with the silicone inserts, and panties, saying
"it's time you get accustomed to wearing lingerie,
Patricia."  There were more clothes than I could
carry; Josie helped by carrying several bags to the
taxi and into the hotel. Although I wore a loose
shirt, I couldn't help but think that everyone we
encountered noticed my protruding breasts and
snickered.


  Part 6

It was early on Monday afternoon. Josie and I
waited at the O'Hare Airport terminal for our
flight to Dallas. Josie had spent nearly 2 hours
that morning teaching me the basics of applying
makeup. She had plucked my eyebrows into a fine
arch. I could taste the lipstick I wore.

Instead of pants, shirt and tie, I wore a skirt and
blouse. My outfit was conservative: the navy blue
skirt fell to just below my knees and had a four
inch slit up the back. My pale pink blouse had long
sleeves and small flowers embroidered on its
collar. Of course I wore pantyhose instead of
socks.  And rather than the brown loafers I had
worn when I arrived in Chicago a week earlier, I
now wore blue high heels. They had only one inch
heels, something I was thankful for, having not yet
mastered the feminine skill of walking in high
heels, and they were open-toed, so all could see my
toenails painted red. I wore a blond wig; Josie had
wanted me to visit a hairstylist, but we simply ran
out of time.

"I'll be so glad to get back to Texas, Patricia.
It's too cold up here. No doubt about it, I'm just
a simple southern girl," Josie said smiling. She'd
been talking and joking since we hopped the train
to the airport. It was as if she saw absolutely
nothing unusual with the fact that I was a male in
female garb. Meanwhile, I was very nervous and
mostly silent. I found myself clinging to Josie for
protection in this foreign female environment,
which was ironic, as that's precisely how I ended
up in this mess to begin with.

"Josie," I said, interrupting her small talk, "I
don't feel at all comfortable dressed like this.
It's not right for a guy to dress like this.
Please, Josie, can't you intercede with your uncle
to get me out of this bind? What's going to happen
once I get home?"

"Quit worrying, Patricia. You look great!"

"To you, maybe. But not to me. And surely not to my
wife."

"I'll talk to Jan, OK? If I explain things to her,
she'll understand."

"Understand," I blurted out, "How? There's no way
to explain or to understand this. I'm Jan's
husband, and I'm wearing a skirt. She'll divorce
me, or worse."

"Quit worrying, silly. Jan won't mind. Maybe she'll
prefer your new look."

"May I stop by your apartment and change before I
go home? Please, Josie."

"What! After all we went through to get you so
pretty? No way. Besides, Jan would surely notice
your smooth skin, your eyebrows, your pretty
nails."

"Still, it's better than showing up at home like
this."

"NO, PATRICIA!  I promised Carlos you'd be 100%
girl, 24-7. If anyone asks me, I'd have to tell the
truth. Plus, I'm sure Eduardo and his bunch will be
checking on you when you're not even aware of it.
Just relax. You do look good. Jan will be happy to
have you home."

"Yea," I said dejectedly.

"You know, Patricia," Josie continued, "I have a
cousin in San Antonio. He's my age. He often
dresses up as a girl. She and I hang out together
sometimes. We go shopping and we talk about clothes
and guys and stuff. Believe me, my cousin would
love to be in your predicament. You get to be a
girl all the time, while my cousin is only a
weekend girl."

  Part 7

"Here, Patricia, read my Cosmo, you'll learn a few
things from it that only us girls know," Josie said
as she handed me the glossy magazine. I was seated
on the plane between Eduardo, who had the aisle
seat, and  Josie, who had the window seat. I felt
squeezed; they both used the armrests, leaving me
to hold me arms close to my chest, even as I held
my knees and legs together in a tight, feminine
manner.  It was one more humiliation; Josie, as the
girl, should have taken the center seat between the
two men, Eduardo and I. Instead, I was forced to
sit demurely in the middle, with my purse set upon
my lap.

"Don't you simply love that dress," Josie said,
pointing to an ad showing a tall, slender and sexy
model wearing a skimpy black dress. "And you could
wear it, Patricia. You have the slender body of a
model."

I blushed. Eduardo couldn't help but overhear our
conversation. And while I am slender, at five foot
eight and 124 pounds, I had always pictured myself
as wiry and tough, not slender and soft.

Eduardo had not said a word to me. He acted as if I
wasn't even present, although I did notice him peer
at me a couple of times when he thought I wouldn't
notice. He did, however, indirectly address me when
he told Josie, "OK, your friend knows the rules.
Make sure she follows them. If she does, there will
be no trouble. If she does not, then much trouble
will be."

"Maybe you should have worn something a bit more
comfortable, Patricia," Josie said to me when she
noticed me squirming. "Is it your pantyhose?"

"Yes, Josie. My pantyhose are too tight. Maybe
they're the wrong size?"

"No way, princess," Josie said with a giggle, "it's
one-size-fits-all. None of us girls like wearing
pantyhose, Patricia. But we do, because it makes
our legs look so smooth and soft."

I noticed Eduardo glance down at my legs, then he
closed his eyes and fell asleep.


  Part 8

The taxi stopped in front of my townhouse. I took
my purse and suitcase and walked towards the door,
Josie having promised to bring by the rest of my
clothes later. The driver, apparently assuming I
was a weak female, carried my one suitcase to the
front door, then returned to his car and drove off.
I was now alone, unable to depend upon Josie. I had
considered somehow changing clothes, but abandoned
the idea because, for one, Josie had thrown out all
my male clothes when we were at O'Hare waiting, and
two, I had no money. Plus, I realized, Jan would
have to be confronted with our new reality sooner
or later.

The door was unlocked. I had hoped Jan would be
out, but alas, luck was not mine.

"What the hell.?  What the hell is going on,
Thomas?" Jan said as she recognized who the young
lady was that had just entered her home. "What is
this, some kind of sick joke?"

Jan was my age and beautiful, with a round face,
pale green eyes, and sandy hair. She was nearly as
tall as I and thin in an athletic way. Her skin was
flawless; not a line or pimple marred her face. I
had loved Jan since the day I met her in the
university's library. We were both college freshman
at the University of Texas, and were both new to
Austin. It took several years before Jan fell in
love with me. We had married in the spring shortly
after graduating. Jan, a Republican who had been
eager to leave the "liberal" Austin area, was happy
to settle in Dallas. She easily found work at a law
firm. We had been married now for more than six
months. I was immensely proud of myself for having
captured the heart of such a beautiful woman.

"No, honey, it's not a joke. Let me explain," I
said, still standing at the front door. Jan stared
at me, in shock, her gaze moving from my face, to
my hair, my breasts, my skirt, my shoes. I blushed
with shame and embarrassment even as Jan's lovely
face reddened with anger and heartache.

SLAP!  I reeled from the strike, which was totally
unexpected, as Jan had never before even hinted at
such violence. Reflexively I dropped my purse and
put my hand up to block the next attack. Jan began
to cry as she proceeded to punch me with her closed
fists. Finally, to stop her attack I grabbed her in
my arms and held her to me, my silicone tits tight
against her soft and sensuous breasts.


   Part 9

"It feels just too strange, Tom, you being as
smooth as me. And your fingernails!"

Jan was right, I realized as I moved away from her.
I had attempted to make love to her, an act that
had always come so easily to us, but not tonight.
Even after explaining my predicament and removing
the accursed women's clothes, my manhood was
wounded. Was it fatal?

"I know, honey, I know. But how do I get these damn
things off," I said, holding my hands up in the
bedroom's dim light. My nails were long and
sculptured, the red polish flawlessly applied. I
realized they were glued on in a permanent manner.

"Maybe you should have thought about that when you
went into the salon," Jan replied curtly.

"We'll work this out, honey. Don't worry. Tomorrow
you and Josie can discuss it. I know you'll
convince her to confront Carlos. They've had their
fun and humiliated me. Now we should be able to
just part company. I'll find another job and things
will return to normal."

"Tom, put on that nightgown you bought," Jan said
to me. "Seeing and feeling you in bed with me,
naked, with no body hair, it's just gross. It feels
like I'm lying with a woman."

"I'm not gonna wear a nightgown, damn it!"

"Yes you will, damn it!  You don't come here into
my home looking like a sweet young secretary and
proceed to act like the big boss man. No way! Now
put it on or I'll have Eduardo come and put it on
you."

"Fuck it, Jan," I said as I got out of bed and took
the delicate pink gown from my suitcase, "if it's
such a big deal to you, I'll wear it." I slipped it
over my head. It fell to nearly my feet, feeling
soft against my body. I began to get hard. I'm sure
Jan noticed; how could she not?  But she didn't
mention it. I felt foolish as I crawled beneath the
blankets wearing a woman's nightgown. Exhausted, I
soon fell asleep.


  Part 10

"You know, Tom, when I was a young girl I never
dreamed I'd be helping my husband put on a bra,"
Jan said coolly as she hooked the bra behind me. I
was seated on a stool in front of her makeup
mirror.

"I know, honey. As a boy, it wasn't something I
dreamed of, either."

"Oh really, Tom?" she said as she had me wiggle my
arms and chest to settle the inserts and bra onto
me properly. "Then why did you get an erection last
night when you put on that lacy nightgown?"

"I did not," I denied, although my blushing
betrayed me.

"I saw it, Tom. Don't lie to me."

"Well.., honey.,  I., well, I was thinking of
making love to you. I haven't had sex all week, you
know.  So., what did you dream of as a young girl,"
I asked, hoping to move the subject away from last
night's poorly timed hard on.

"Same thing as all girls, Tom," Jan said as she
handed me a slip, "A big, strong, handsome man. A
man with hair on his chest, struggling to remove my
bra, eager to massage my titties with his mouth.
That type of thing. Girls all dream of that, don't
they, young lady?"

"Jan, please! I know my situation has pissed you
off. But I like it a lot less than you do. We'll
clear it all up today."

"Look, Tom, see these thin straps on your slip?
They are too loose; they'll fall off your shoulder
and you'll look like a hussy." Jan showed my how to
adjust the straps. "So tell me, and be honest, did
you ever fantasize about dressing like a girl? I've
read that some men do."

"Of course not, Jan. I'm your husband. You know
me."

"I know Thomas. But you said your new name is now.,
what is it, Prissy? Or Pussy?"

"No, it's Patricia," I corrected her.

"Yes, that's right.  My husband is PATRICIA."

"Jan, I've been thinking. Here's what we'll do. If
Carlos doesn't back off, we'll leave. Your sister
lives in Saint Paul. We'll move up there and start
all over. I'll just change my name a bit to throw
Carlos off track. We'll be able to get jobs there."

"What," Jan exclaimed angrily. "I should move to
Minnesota because you acted like a sissy? I should
freeze my ass off for six months a year because you
were a coward?"

"You've been there. Saint Paul isn't so bad."

"Thomas, I like this house. It's our house. And I
love my job. Soon I'll pass the bar exam and be
made a partner. I've planned a life here, Thomas.
Your part of the deal was to get a good job here,
to be respectable and successful, and then to get
me pregnant. I want a home here, in Texas. I want
respect. These were our plans, Tom. Hiding in
Minnesota for the rest of our lives, that is
definitely not in our plans!"

"OK, Jan, calm down."

"It's not easy to be calm over this, Patricia. And
the worst thing is that Carlos' companies are my
firm's largest clients. If you piss off Carlos,
he'll have the firm fire me. Then what? We'll both
be jobless."

"Here," Jan continued, handing me my pantyhose,
"put these on and don't run them, Patricia."


  Part 11

Although the same age, Josie and Jan had little in
common. Josie, perpetually cheerful, never worried
about tomorrow. She held no reservations about
anybody; instinctively she liked all she met, and
nearly all liked her. It didn't matter what race,
color or nationality a person was, or their sexual
leanings.

Josie went through life without complaint, no
matter what life offered. And everyone who knew
Josie just accepted as fact that she would enjoy a
wonderfully fulfilling life.

Jan, on the other hand, always focused upon the
future, intent upon building a full and successful
life. She would work at her happiness; life was a
treacherous mountain which she would climb. Jan
loved Thomas, but not in a spontaneous way. Thomas
was fairly good-looking, healthy, intelligent, and
best of all had good prospects for a successful
career. Thomas fit well into Jan's life plan.

And while Jan didn't really hate anyone, neither
would she help or even associate with anyone that
might possibly hinder her progress. For example, a
childhood friend of Jan's recently bore a child
afflicted with a cleft plate. After some soul
searching, Jan terminated their friendship; she
simply could not bear to have that child at any of
her gatherings, as the child might make other
guests feel uncomfortable.


  Part 12

"Hi, Josie," I said as I opened the door. As
promised, she had arrived promptly at noon.

"Well, hello Patricia," Josie replied, smiling
broadly. "Don't you look nice!"  She wore tan
shorts, sandals, and a pink T-Shirt emblazoned with
the phrase "BOYS STINK". Apparently she was not
wearing a bra, as I could see the outline of her
nipples. Josie didn't really need a bra, as her
firm, young breasts were not that large.

Josie proceeded to give me a warm hug and a peck on
my cheek. No handshakes, now that I was a woman. I
noticed Jan watching -  glaring, really.

"Jan, you are SO lucky to have such a sexy husband.
I so envy you! Don't you think he looks stunning as
Patricia?"

"Well, Josie," Jan said coolly, "I rather miss the
man who used to be my husband."

"Don't you know, Jan, boys stink, and so do men,"
Josie laughed, pointing to her t-shirt.


  Part 13

Josie and Jan sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee
and discussing Tom's situation, while Tom moved his
"Patricia clothes" from Josie's car to the spare
bedroom. Jan had decreed that Patricia move out of
the master bedroom and into a spare bedroom "so
that we don't mix up our clothes. I'd really hate
to put on a pair of your panties by mistake".

"But Jan," Josie said as she reached out and gently
touched Jan's hand, "you must be reasonable. He's
still the person you love, the person you married.
I know Tom loves you madly; when he's out of town
on our business trips, he talks of you constantly,
brags about you. He's so proud of you. And he
misses you like crazy, even if it's only a few
days."

"Josie, you say he must dress and act like a
female. But I don't want a sissy husband. Each time
I look at his chest and see tits, well, it makes me
feel cheap, used. Like I married damaged goods. Is
there no way to get Carlos to back off?"

"No. Carlos is a very important man. Believe me,
Jan, now that he's made his decision he does not
want to hear about it again. But I'm sure that at
the end of the summer, when I return to San
Antonio, all of this will fade away and, if you two
so choose, so can Patricia. I tell you what: if
necessary, after I get back to San Antonio, I'll
travel to Mexico to see Carlos. I'll try my best to
convince him at that time."

"So that's it, then? I won't have a husband again
until September. And maybe not even then?"

"True," said Josie, "but you do have a new
girlfriend, and so do I."


  Part 14

The color drained from my face as I sat at the
kitchen table with Jan. Josie had left, and I had
finished unpacking my clothes. Jan spoke with a
tone of anger mixed with disgust. "So it's
decided," she concluded. "You have no chance of
ending this before September."

"This is absurd," I protested. "I refuse, plain and
simple. Fuck Carlos! Hell, I've never met him; he's
probably just a worthless asshole. And fuck
Eduardo, too. I've had enough. I'm a man, god damn
it, and I'll act and dress like a man." I tore the
wig from my head and threw it to the floor.

"No, Thomas. Fuck you! This is all your fault, not
mine. I'll not lose my job, my home, my future,
because of you," Jan yelled.

"Well, Jan, what the hell do you suggest, then," I
yelled back.

"I don't suggest anything. I'm telling you! You're
gonna go along with this punishment of yours, like
it or not."

"And if I don't," I countered defiantly.

"If you don't, you lose me. Forever! Plus, you'll
deal with Eduardo and his minions. If they don't
kill you, you'll probably wish they did."

I was silent. We were both silent for quite a
while. I stared at Jan with anger and resignation.

"So," Jan finally continued, "from now on you will
dress like a woman. Act like a woman. Think like a
woman. From this moment on you are not my husband,
not until all of this is finished and just a bad
memory. Now you are Patricia. You are my sister-in-
law, not my husband."

"Honey, please."

"Don't call me honey. We're not lesbian lovers,
Patricia."

"Jan?"

"Yes, PATRICIA?"

"I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry."

"Follow me," she snapped. We went upstairs to the
bedroom. Our bedroom. Maybe, I reasoned, maybe this
means she wants to resume our sex life. If I could
once again treat her like a man, in bed, if I could
make love to her, then surely her feelings for me
would return and we could work all of this out,
together.

"Jan," I said as I gently grasped her forearm,
"this is our room. We're alone. It's been a long
time. We both want sex, so let's undress and do
it." I leaned over to kiss her.

"I don't want your lipstick on my lips, sissy!
Forget it!" she said as she pushed me away.

"But I thought that's why you brought me up here,
Jan."

"You did? No way! I'm just going to give you some
of my old clothes."

"Why," I asked, unsure of what she wanted now.

"Maybe I feel sorry for you. You do need something
more comfortable than that secretary's outfit
you're wearing."

"But, my own clothes are right here. Le me wear
them."

"It's over, Patricia. Forget your male clothes.
Forget you were ever a man. You're the wife in this
household now. That means you do the cooking,
cleaning, shopping, everything. And a woman doesn't
clean house in a new skirt."  She proceeded to hand
me one of her faded jean skirts, a girl's t-shirt,
and a pair of beige flip-flops.

"Here. Go into our room and change. While you're
doing that I'll gather a few of my old panties and
bras to add to your collection."


  Part 15

Jan sat at the foot of my bed, watching me with a
non-expressive face. I now wore her jean skirt,
which fell to just above my knees, a print t-shirt
with red roses against a beige background, and
beige flip flops with one inch heels. Of course I
also wore my bra and the silicone inserts, but
instead of the tight lycra panties, I wore Jan's
looser-fitting pink panties. "I hope you don't
mind, sis," she had said when she handed them to
me, "I took them from the dirty clothes hamper.
They probably smell like pussy. But since you're
Patricia now, I suppose you'll want to smell like a
female." Despite the jab at my manhood, I had
thanked her for the panties.

"Oh, yes," I said with relief as I walked back and
forth across the room a couple of times, "this is
much more comfortable. Thanks Jan, I appreciate
it."

"Anything to help my little sis," she responded in
a slightly mocking voice. "You look kinda cute in
my clothes."

"Patricia," she continued after a brief pause,
"I've decided to accept this., situation., which
you've gotten us into. I really have no choice but
to accept it; in that respect I'm in the same boat
as you. I'll help you out when I can."

"Thank's Jan," I said. I sat next to her on the
bed. My eyes teared with emotion. "I'm so very
sorry that I messed things up for you. After we're
through this, I promise I'll be the best husband a
woman ever had. I will."

"You're my sis, not my husband. Remember? Now quit
crying or you'll ruin your mascara. Go down and fix
lunch. Salads, with a little cheese and coffee. As
of today, you'll eat like a girl."


  Part 16

I was vacuuming the living room carpet when the
doorbell rang. I yelled to Jan, asking her to
answer it.

"No way, sis," she called from the kitchen. "You
answer it. I can't cover for you forever."

"But honey, I can't, not dressed like this."

"I'm not your honey, Patricia! Answer the damned
door!"

My hands trembled as I opened the door. Katrina and
Sandy were there. "Is Jan home," Katrina asked.

"Yes, come in," I said, using the feminine voice
which Josie had taught me. Jan came out from the
kitchen.

"Hi, guys, I'm about ready. And meet my sister in
law, Patricia. She was just cleaning the place up."
Turning to me, she continued, "We're going
shopping. I'll see you later."

"Okay," I said, blushing. I realized that neither
woman had recognized me. Katrina, also called
Katie, who was recently divorced, was tall, blond,
and thin. She wore jeans and a tan blouse, with
sandals. Sandy always dressed fashionably; today
she wore a rose colored silk blouse tucked into
tailored tan slacks and matching heels. At about
five foot two, Sandy was considerably shorter than
Jan and Katrina and was a tad overweight. She was
married to a wealthy lawyer and had a two year old
daughter.

"Patricia, would you care to join us," Sandy asked.
"It'll be more fun than vacuuming."

"Why, no., no thank you," I replied.

"C'mon, we won't be gone long," Katrina added.

"No, I've got to finish cleaning." I looked towards
Jan, who had a scowl on her face.

"Jan, what do you think? Should Patricia come with
us?" asked Katrina.

"I suppose she can," Jan said flatly. "Grab your
purse, sis." Clearly this was an order, not a
request.


  Part 17.

My deception soon collapsed like a house of cards.
We were driving to the mall. Jan and Sandy sat in
front, while I sat in back with Katrina. Sandy and
Katrina filled Jan in on all the latest gossip,
including Sarah's pregnancy and Julie's suspicion
that her husband was depressed about something.
Just girl talk. And since Sandy and Katie presumed
that I didn't know the subjects of the gossip, I
wasn't expected to participate in the conversation.

But after a while Katrina turned to me and said,
"So, Patricia, tell us about yourself. Are you
married?" Jan glanced back at me. I was so
embarrassed that my face turned red.

"Yes., I am," I replied softly as I looked into
Jan's cold eyes.

"Oh, then tell us about your husband. And your
kids," followed Sandy.

"Yes, Patricia," Jan said coolly, "tell us about
your husband. I'd really like to hear about him."

"No!" I blurted out, completely stressed. "I don't
have a husband. I'm Thomas, your husband, Jan.
Please stop teasing me!"

"Well, my hubby, if you weren't wearing a skirt,
maybe I wouldn't be teasing you."

"Thomas! Well I'll be..," said Sandy. "I sensed
something was odd with you."

"Yea, me too.," added Katrina. "You looked too much
like Tom, even for a sister. So why in the world
are you dressed like a woman?"

I was too embarrassed to respond.

"Let's just say that my so-called husband has a
thing for us females. Tom's going to spend the
entire summer as a female."

"Jesus, that's really weird. Kinky, even," Katie
said.

 Nobody spoke for a long time, until Sandy said,
"Is this OK with you, Jan?"

"I've agreed to it. Enough said."

Again we lapsed into silence, until Katrina asked,
"So, Tom., I mean Patricia, are you thinking of
having a sex change or something like that?"

"Huh?" I was still focusing on Jan and didn't hear
Katrina's question.

"Sis," Jan said, "Katie asked you a question. Are
you going to get your prick cut off so that you can
be a "real woman"?"

"No., no of course not. I don't want that. No way,"
I replied, speaking directly to Jan, her beautiful
face, always warm to me in the past, now as cold as
a statue. Clearly Jan was miffed that I, her
husband, had joined her "girl's gang".

Sandy pulled into the mall's parking lot. After a
time Jan's anger subsided and Sandy asked, "So,
gals, what's our plan?"

"We'll have to hurry so that sis can get back home
and finish cleaning and then get ready for her
sleepover."

"Sleepover? What do you mean, Jan," I asked.

"Josie has planned a sleepover. She thinks it'll
help you understand girls. She's sure you'll love
it. She and a friend will be over tonight at
eight."

"What friend?" I asked.

"Who knows? It's your sleepover, not mine. Anyway,"
Jan continued, now addressing Katrina and Sandy,
"Patricia needs an outfit appropriate for a sixteen
year old. I'm just not up to helping sis choose her
sexy outfits. Surely you two can understand that.
Would either of you like to accompany Patricia to
Mervyns department store and help her pick out
something pretty?"

There was a silence as the two women tried to
fathom Jan's statement, then Katrina said, "Sure, I
will, Jan."

"Thank you, Katie," said Jan. "But remember,
Patricia needs something cute and sexy, from the
junior's department if possible. Don't let sis
choose. She hasn't been a girl long enough to
develop a taste for fashion. Oh, and one more
thing. Try to find a baby doll nightie to fit
Patricia. Who knows, maybe she and her sleepover
friend will have a pillow fight tonight. Isn't that
what little girls do?"

"No problem, Jan," said Katrina. "We'll meet you at
Starbucks in 30 minutes."


  Part 18.

The coffee shop was crowded, mostly with
fashionable young women in their twenties and
thirties. Jan sat at a table in the far back corner
of the Starbucks, where she and Sandy sipped their
lattes and shared a blueberry scone. A steady hum
of conversations, cell phones, and background music
provided some degree of privacy. Stirred by a
slowly turning ceiling fan, an aroma of strong dark
coffee pervaded the air.

"It's hard for me to empathize with Julie," said
Jan. "Sure, her husband may be depressed, but at
least he doesn't go to bed wearing a bra, for god's
sake."

"It must be difficult for both of you," Sandy said
as she touched Jan's wrist ever so lightly. "Did
Tom explain why he's doing this?"

""Yes, he did. And he's got a good reason. I can't
really divulge his problems, you know. But reason
or not, it's still so. demeaning."

"You mean to Tom?"

"Fuck Tom. Fuck Patricia, for that matter. Yes, I
imagine it's embarrassing for him to wear high
heels and carry a purse. But no, I mean it's
demeaning to me. Having him, or her, as my husband,
that's demeaning to me."

"I don't think any less of you, Jan."

"You don't? Really?"

"No, Jan, not at all."

"I don't believe you, Sandy," Jan said, emphasizing
each word. She took a sip of her latte before
continuing, "You're my best friend, Sandy, my very
best friend. But I cannot believe that after you
realized Patricia was really my husband, you didn't
think to yourself: "Poor Jan, she married a sissy."
Or "Poor Jan, her husband is not a real man." Or,
"Poor Jan, her husband can't fuck her because he
prefers to be fucked".

"And if you, Sandy, my best friend, thinks that,
then just imagine what other women, and men, will
think of me! I tell you, I'm embarrassed to be the
sorry sissy's wife. What woman wouldn't be?""

"But Thomas has always been such a good husband and
such a perfect friend to you, Jan.  I know he loves
you. Whether he's wearing a flannel shirt and
jeans, or an evening gown, either way he loves you
more than anything in this life."

"I know that, too, Sandy," Jan said, crying now.
"Tom loves me more, much more, than I ever loved
him. But., but when I see him wearing a bra, well.,
sometimes I just get so angry I don't know what
I'll do. Sandy, I just don't know what to do.."

Sandy moved her chair closer to Jan's, gently
comforting her as Jan quietly sobbed.


 Part 19.

"Hurry along, Pamela," Katrina urged as I struggled
to keep up with her, "we don't have much time."

"Patricia. My name is Patricia. And I'm trying,
Katie, but this skirt is just too tight. And my
shoes don't seem to fit. Listen, they're so loose
you can hear them flapping against my feet."

"Silly. That's why they're called flip-flops! Get
used to it. Us girls prefer to hear our shoes.
Surely you've noticed the click click click that
Jan's high heels make as she walks?"

"Yes," I replied, still struggling to keep abreast
of the long-legged blond, "but I don't understand."

"It's uniquely feminine, Patricia. You must know
how important it is for a girl to be feminine.
Apparently it's even important for some guys to be
feminine." Katie giggled at her comment before
continuing, "It's like this, sissy. When guys walk,
you might hear a clump clump clump, if anything.
But when us girls walk, you'll often hear a sharp
click click click, or the telltale flapping of our
flip-flops, signaling to all that this is a girl
approaching. That way, just the sound of a girl
walking can make guys' heads turn. Enjoy it,
Patricia. It's girl stuff."

"I'm not a sissy, Katrina."

"Sorry! Gee, Patricia, I surely didn't think you'd
mind being called a sissy. After all, you are a guy
in a skirt."

"You're right," I apologized. "I shouldn't have
snapped at you. It's just that I'm a bit stressed."

"Hey, it's OK. You know, as Tom you were always so
quiet. But as Patricia, it's different. We can
talk. Girls share their feelings, right?"

We entered the department store. I followed Katrina
through the lingerie department, a section of the
store with a vast assortment of female
undergarments on display. I began to blush; even
though I was wearing these same sexy
unmentionables, I still felt myself an unwelcome
trespasser.

"What is a juniors department," I asked Katie as we
entered it.

"You don't know? Really, Patricia, get with it!
"Juniors" is the word for young teens. Middle
school girls and high school girls buy clothes in
the Juniors department."

"But I'm too old for that."

"I agree, Patricia. It must have something to do
with your sleepover." At this point a young, petite
salesgirl approached and asked if she could help.

"Yes, please," Katrina responded. "My boyfriend
here will be having a girl's sleepover tonight, so
he needs a cute outfit. Something that a girl like
you might wear to a school dance. And a cute
nightie to sleep in."

The clerk stopped chewing her gum and stared at me
as she addressed Katrina, "Your boyfriend dresses
like a teenaged girl?"

"Yes! Isn't that sweet," Katrina said as she
reached over to place her hand on my arm.

"Whatever," the clerk said, rolling her eyes. "Over
here, miss," she continued, now addressing me, "we
have some very cute dresses. Skimpy dresses.
Guaranteed to show off your legs. Guaranteed to
kick any boy's hormones into overdrive."

"Oh, this will be so fun," Katrina said as she
grasped my hand and led me to the display of
dresses.


 Part 20

Jan, Katrina and I sat in the living room watching
television. Jan was casually dressed in jeans and a
long sleeve tan blouse, while Katie wore a calve-
length navy blue cotton skirt and a simple white
blouse. I, on the other hand, was dressed to the
nines in the outfit Katie had chosen from the
Juniors department. I felt foolish, to be sure, but
Jan had warned me that Josie was boss tonight; she
had strict orders to call Eduardo immediately
should I "assert my manhood". Jan firmly emphasized
that her job was on the line, not just my "balls".

Jan and Katrina were drinking wine, but since I was
"sweet sixteen" tonight, I was allowed only soda.
As they discussed various matters they mostly
ignored me, although Katrina, who sat next to me on
the couch, once reached over and gently touch my
pantyhose-clad thigh and said  "Patricia, don't
worry, your girlfriends will be here soon."


 Part 21

At 8:00 the doorbell rang. Jan gave me a stern look
and commanded: "Answer the door, Patricia. And
remember, be friendly and obedient, all night!"
OK, I thought as I rose from the couch, Josie's
always nice to me. I can "obey" her, if that's what
Jan wants.

I straightened my pleated skirt, which was hot pink
with a pattern of black pinstripes and which
extended only halfway to my knees. My top was a
bright yellow pullover which clung tightly to me,
causing my breasts to show prominently. Of course I
wore pantyhose and high heels. While dressing I had
protested to Jan that I was a tad overdressed for a
sleepover, suggesting that jeans and a T-shirt
would be more appropriate. Jan, who was clearly
unhappy to have to participate in my sleepover
night, replied simply, "Josie wants you dressed
smartly, so that's what you'll do. Remember, my job
is at stake here."

I opened the door and Josie entered followed by a
latina girl. Josie was again dressed casually in
jeans and a simple long sleeve blouse. The latina
had a darker complexion than Josie, lustrous black
hair cut in a page boy style, and a nice face,
although maybe a bit too angular for true beauty.
She was about 5 foot 7 and wore a stylish pale blue
dress which highlighted her slender figure. I
guessed that she was here to join my sleepover.
Josie held the latina's hand.

"Hi everyone," Josie exclaimed, then turned towards
me and smiled broadly. "Oh, Patricia, you do look
hot! I'm very impressed. Patricia, meet my favorite
cousin, Leticia. Leti, meet my new girlfriend,
Patricia!"

Leticia approached me, grasped both my hands in
hers, and looked directly into my eyes. I noticed
how she had used mascara to skillfully highlight
her dark eyes, and how her shocking pink lipstick
contrasted with her dark complexion. Then she
leaned forward and kissed me directly on my lips. I
instinctively responded in kind, such that we
kissed naturally and, to me at least, erotically.

Surely, I thought, Josie must have told Leticia
that I wasn't really a girl. Knowing that I was a
male, this couldn't have been an innocent girl-girl
friendship kiss. No, I reasoned, Leticia was coming
on to me right in front of Jan!  This disturbed me;
after all, I loved Jan and would never hurt her.
But that said, having been kissed by this sexy girl
would surely send a much needed message to Jan:
that even when dressed like a young lady, I was
still able to attract pretty females.

"You two young ladies sit here," Katrina said,
indicating the couch, "while I get a glass of wine
for Josie."

I held Leticia's hand as we crossed the room. Jan
stared at us. Leticia straightened her skirt as she
sat down close to me. For the first time I
appreciated my tight panties and pantyhose, which
hid my hardening prick. The women talked amongst
themselves, with Josie and Katrina getting to know
each other, as Leticia and I sat quietly and
watched television. Leticia continued to hold my
hand, now clasped in hers and set upon her lap.


  Part 22.

Josie asked Jan if she'd like to introduce her
"cute sister-in-law" to the group, which had grown
with the arrival of Sandy and of Mary, another
member of Jan's "girls' gang".  A brief look of
disgust crossed Jan's face as she looked towards
me, her husband.

"Sure," Jan replied. Everybody, let me introduce my
little sister-in-law, Patricia. Sixteen years old
and dressed to kill. Stand up, Patricia; show us
your cute outfit. And tell us about yourself."

I turned beet red as I rose to address the women.
"Hi," I stammered, "I'm. Patricia. I'm Jan's new
sister in law. Tonight is my first sleepover and
I'd like to thank you all for coming by.  And I'd
also like to thank Katrina for helping me select
this cute outfit I'm wearing. Since I'm new to.
this., you know., being a., girl., and all., it's
all so.., very., difficult. and.., well.,  ah..
I'll need., well."  Tears began to form in my eyes.
I looked towards Jan anxiously, hoping she would
step in and help me with this.  Luckily, my botched
introduction was aborted at this point as Josie
began to clap, and the others followed her lead,
except Jan, who just stared at me with a grim
expression.

Then Leticia rose, approached me and kissed me on
the lips. Damn, this girl is sexy, I thought to
myself. With her large hoop earrings dangling,
Leticia, again holding my hand, began to address
the group in a somewhat hushed tone of voice.

"Hi," she began. "I'm Leticia, Josie's cousin. My
friends call me Leti for short. I'd like to thank
Patricia for inviting me to her sleepover." I felt
Leti gently squeeze my hand.

"Josie suggested I might assist Patricia in
bringing out the feminine which resides within her,
and indeed within all of us, female and male. I am
thrilled to be part of Patricia's transformation.
But, as we all clearly see, Patricia has succeeded
very well on her own - her outfit is really sexy,
and she looks simply gorgeous!

"As long as I can remember I've admired and envied
beautiful girls.  I recall, as early as the eighth
grade, stealing glances at this very pretty girl
seated at the desk next to mine. Her name was
Jeannette. She wore short skirts and tight dresses,
colorful tops, and lots of makeup. No other girls
in my class dared wear makeup! And she always
carried a small purse with a long, thin leather
strap. Often, before class, I'd watch, mesmerized,
as she removed her compact from her purse, opened
it, and - oblivious to my existence - checked her
makeup in its mirror. During the boring classes I
would look at her and wish, so very, very much,
that I could wear a dress like hers, or wear
lipstick like she did, or apply dark mascara to
make my eyes as beautiful as hers. Oh, and I so
wished that I could let my hair grow long, like
hers, and wear it in a ponytail one day and in
curls the next.

"But the world denied me such pleasures. Only
within the past few years have I actually been able
to dress like I am tonight. Now I no longer sneak
into my cousin's bedroom when visiting her family
and, with great stealth, slip into her panties,
sometimes even a bra, and always into one of her
many skirts. Yes, Josie, I did do that - many times
- and you never did find out, did you?" Leticia and
Josie both laughed at this admission.

"Like Patricia, I'm not anatomically the same as
the rest of you. Yet I feel, and have always felt,
a kinship with females. I love you for what you
are: beautiful, soft, gentle, sensitive, caring,
tender, passive. Truly, I so much love females that
I ache to be one of you. Literally ache!

"In every aspect of life, boys and men always TAKE,
while girls and women GIVE. It's true! It's true on
the playground, in the classrooms, at workplaces,
and during war. It's true in our homes, and above
all, it's so true in our bedrooms. By constantly
giving and nurturing, we females (Leti looked
towards me and grasped my hand again) are the heart
and soul of civilization. We are life!

"And tonight I am proudly female, and so is
Patricia! I do hope Patricia enjoys being a sixteen
year old girl tonight. I know I will."

Her introduction over, Leti again kissed my lips,
then hugged me. I heard the women applaud. I looked
to Jan; she wasn't clapping. She looked somber;
tears had formed in her eyes. Josie then jumped up
and hugged Leti, telling us that Leticia was the
best cousin any girl could ever have. I stood at
Leti's side, astonished and embarrassed. How did
what seemed to be a simple (albeit humiliating)
punishment - wearing women's clothing - turn into
this? My manhood was not merely being hid beneath a
skirt. No, it was being torn from me, discarded and
left to die.


  Part 23

I noticed everyone was smiling and enjoying
themselves, except Jan, who seemed incapable of
smiling tonight. What had she been thinking as I,
her husband, stood in front of her friends, looking
and acting like a teenaged girl and being kissed -
by a male?

After a few moments Jan, as hostess of this
gathering, spoke. "Very good, young ladies. And let
me say, Leticia, you are actually more feminine
than many of the girls I've known."

"Thank you," Leticia answered shyly.

"And Patricia," Jan paused, gathering her thoughts,
"you do look cute. I'll admit that. Your outfit is
very sexy. Hell, I would have loved to have worn
that skirt of yours - when I was 16, that is.

"But you are not as feminine as Leticia. Maybe you
will be, someday. But you'll need guidance from us
women. And we'll be here, all of us, to help you
continue your transition.

"I agree with you, Leti. Feminine characteristics
are admirable. We females are givers. We give life,
after all! But that said, I must also concede that
I, as a woman, am attracted to just those
characteristics we lack. I like men with hard
muscles. Men with hair on their chests. Men who
push, who demand, who take. Unleashed ambition is a
male thing, is it not?"

Now Jan turned to me, continuing as if she and I
were alone in the room. "So where does this leave
our relationship, Patricia? I'm not sure. I love
you. I promised that I would adapt to your new.
situation, and I will. You are Patricia. You are a
girl. I hope you'll be a lovely, happy girl. I
really do. And me? I'm now alone. A widow of sorts.
Or at least a woman whose husband has left her.
Maybe he'll return someday. Maybe.

"But enough speeches," Jan concluded. "You two
young ladies go to Patricia's room and hang out
while we women catch up on our gossip."

Leticia took my hand in hers, grasped her purse
strap with her other hand, and together we left the
room.


 Part 24.

"Look Patricia, your skirt is the same shade of
pink as my lipstick. So neat! You know, Josie is
just so excited about your transformation. Don't
you just love being able to wear a skirt, just like
real girls?"

"I don't know, Leticia," I replied, still stunned
by all that had happened. "This is all very new to
me."

"Well, believe me, Patricia, once you've been a
girl, you'll never want to go back. Maybe you'll
have to, but even then your heart and soul will
remain here on the other side, with the girls. So,"
she continued, changing the subject yet again,
"what brand of panties are you wearing?"

"I'm not sure. They're pink. That much I know."

"Pink panties beneath a pink skirt?" Leti giggled.
"That's a tad too feminine, Patricia. You should
wear your white panties. Contrast, you know. Take
your panties off, we need to get them changed right
away!"

"Are you sure, Leti? No one sees my underclothes
anyway."

"Patricia, we girls do not think like that! There's
always the possibility that some lucky guy will get
into your panties. Real girls always consider that
when selecting lingerie.  Now, where do you keep
your lingerie? I'll pick out a pair of panties
that'll work with your outfit."

I removed my panties as Leti searched through my
lingerie collection. A definite advantage of skirts
over pants, I realized, was the ease of changing
one's underwear. She selected a pair of Bali lycra
panties, white with small ruffles on each side.
"Much better than skivvies, don't you agree," she
said, laughing, as she pulled high the hem of her
dress to show me her panties. "These are from
Victoria's Secret. Twelve dollars a pair, but SO
sexy!" And indeed they were: beige, bikini cut,
with white embroidered flowers.  Just then Jan and
Katrina walked through the open doorway. Jan stared
silently at us.

"Oh, hi," Leti said happily. "I'm just showing
Patricia my panties. I think she'd like some for
herself."

"I'm sure Patricia would," Katie said with a sigh.
"Come on, young ladies. Sandy brought a movie for
you to watch, a cute teen flick with Hillary Duff."

"Great," exclaimed Leti as she let loose of her
skirt. "But could Patricia paint my toenails while
we watch? I didn't have time to do it before coming
over."

"Go for it, girls," Jan said unenthusiastically,
"but first put your nighties on. You wouldn't want
to get nail polish on your pretty outfits."


  Part 25.

I couldn't help but stare at Leticia as she stood
before me in her bra and panties, her smooth,
slender body looking so girlish. I, too, was naked
except for bra and panties. Jan was helping me
change into my nightie while Leti told us about
Eduardo, a longtime friend of her family.
Apparently Eduardo had a wife and two children in
Mexico City. Josie said he often seemed very lonely
here in the United States. Jan seemed oddly
interested in this.


  Part 26.

"That's right, use the Q-tip to remove every bit,"
Leti said as I worked at removing every vestige of
red nail polish from her toenails. She sat on the
couch between Katrina and Josie. The three of them
spent more time watching and instructing me than
watching the movie.

Leticia wore a sleeveless, pale blue nightie with
an empire waist that highlighted her breasts and
slim body. When she stood, the nightie was so short
it barely covered her panties, and when seated, it
definitely failed to cover them. Leti's beige
panties could easily be seen through the sheer
nightie.

I wore the pink nightie which Katrina had selected
for me earlier in the day. Its hem was also very
high, although not as high as Leti's. It had short
sleeves with ample lace covering my breast area,
sleeves, and hem.

Jan, Sandy, Mary and Eduardo were seated at the
table at the far side of the room, drinking wine
and beer and playing cards. Eduardo had stopped by
to check on Josie and Leti; per Leti, Carlos
charged Eduardo with the safety of any of his
relatives who happened to be in Dallas.

I was seated on the floor in front of Leticia.
Conflicting emotions coursed through me: shame,
humiliation, and anger wrapping a heart of lust and
disgust: lust for the outwardly female Leti, so
sexy as she instructed me to put cotton balls
between her toes to separate them, making my task
easier, and disgust directed towards the maleness
so artfully hidden beneath Leti's panties. Seated
as I was, with my face mere inches from Leti's
crotch, I couldn't help but notice a bulge within
her panties, a bulge caused by her cock and balls.
What, I wondered, was Jan thinking as she watched
me lavish attentions upon another male?

"Ooh, that tickles," Leti giggled as I raised her
left foot near to my mouth and blew on the fresh
nail polish. She and I had been sharing Josie's
wine; everyone in the house was getting tipsy, it
seemed.

"You two girls are hot, hot, hot!" Katrina said,
laughing. "You'd make a great lesbian couple."

"Only until the panties come off," Josie added.  I
began to apply the "shocking pink" polish to the
little toe of Leti's right foot.

"So, Patricia, what do two girls like you do when
they climb into bed together," Katrina asked with a
smirk. I blushed. I knew Jan was listening to her
friend tease me, but she did nothing. Why?

"Well, I suppose we'll sleep," I replied.

"Is that all," Leti asked in mock disappointment.
"Surely there must be something we can do in bed
together. Josie, tell us, what would you and
Katrina do in bed if you were wearing nighties as
pretty as ours?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," laughed Katrina as she
gazed affectionately at Josie. Josie smiled at
Katrina. The sexual banter and wine apparently
loosened Leticia up, as I noticed an erection begin
to strain against her panties.

"Patricia! What are you staring at, girl," Katrina
asked.

Ahh., I wasn't staring..."

"Yes, you are staring. It looks like there's
something in Leti's panties that's not supposed to
be there. Go ahead, Patricia, pull her panties down
and get a look. We're all curious, aren't we,
Josie?"

"No way," I replied as I applied polish to Leti's
final toenail. "I'm not taking her panties down."

"This is a sleepover, Patricia. Girls do compare
themselves during sleepovers. Isn't that right,
Josie?"

"Oh, yes! I remember one sleepover when I was about
twelve years old. Myself and two of my friends must
have spent a whole hour comparing and measuring our
titties. I was so embarrassed because mine were
smaller than theirs. What about it, Leti, can we
have a peek at your hidden treasure?"

Leti was blushing now, too. "I suppose so," she
replied shyly. "If Patricia wants to look, it's OK
with me."

"No, Leticia, I do not want to look," I said.

"Well, why were you staring at me then, I mean, at
my panties?"

"I don't know., after all, they're right there in
front of me."

"It's OK, Patricia, I'm sure Jan won't mind if you
take a peek," Katrina said.  Jan, tell your little
sis to behave!"

Jan turned to face me and said in a firm voice,
"Patricia! You've promised to do whatever Josie
asks. So quit disturbing me. Anyway, we are going
out to have a drink or two. We'll be back in an
hour or so." She and Eduardo got up and, without
even another glance at me, left the house.

 Part 27.

"This is stupid!" I said. Katie and Josie were
smiling as they watched me. I set Leti's foot down
- the polish dry now - and with both hands gently
grasped the waistband of her ultra-sexy beige
panties. They were tight, made of an elastic
material. Still seated on the couch, Leti lifted
her ass up a bit so that I could remove her
panties. Slowly, I began to pull them down her
legs. Once the panties cleared her groin, Leti's
prick sprang out, fully erect and surprisingly
large for someone who appeared so feminine. The
contrast, a good-looking "girl" dressed in a sexy
nightie and the large cock, momentarily stunned all
of us and appeared to embarrass Leticia.

After a pause, I proceeded to pull her panties down
her legs, which briefly caused my face to get so
close to Leti's cock that I reflexively closed my
eyes. I was very careful not to let the panties
touch the newly applied nail polish. Once off, I
held her panties in my hand like a trophy; they had
contracted to near nothingness, so light and
delicate were they.

"Leticia," Katrina said, "I'm very impressed! I
thought it would be more. dainty."

"I'm really a girl, a pretty girl. Isn't that
right, Josie," Leti said, determined to  reaffirm
her femininity.

"Of course you are, Leti, a very pretty girl. Don't
feel badly. That thing between your legs doesn't
make you less pretty. In fact, it makes you super
sexy."

"Girls, it's time to compare," announced Katrina.
"Who has the biggest clit? Patricia, off with your
panties, girl."

"No, let's not compare," I said defiantly, still
seated on the floor in front of Leti's cock.

"I did it, Patricia," Leti said, "now don't you
chicken out. That wouldn't be fair."

"But please, Josie," I pleaded, knowing it was her
call.

"Fine, Patricia, then let Leti remove your panties.
Stand up!"

Slightly wobbly from the wine, I slowly stood up.
Leti, sitting on the edge of the couch now, reached
over, put her hands up under the hem of my nightie,
and deftly grasped my panties, then slowly pulled
them down my nicely shaved legs.

"Show us," urged Josie. "Lift up your nightie."  Of
course I did as she asked. Katie and Josie giggled
as Leticia and I stood, side be side, our erections
protruding from under the hem of our nighties.

"No doubt about it," Katrina said conclusively,
"Leti's is the largest."

""No way," Leti protested. "Patricia's is not all
hard. Here, let me play with it, then we'll
compare." Leti knelt down in front of me and
tickled my prick with her index finger as she
gently blew upon it. It began to throb with
excitement.


  Part 28.

"Side by side, girls. Now hold still, please,"
Katrina said, giggling, while Leti and I stood,
hips pressed together, cocks outstretched. Josie
had removed our nighties because, she said, "we
can't allow your pretties to hide the truth."

Leti was adamant that her prick was smaller than
mine, or, as she put it, "much more petite than
Patricia's." I, on the other hand, was hoping -
praying - that my erection was larger than Leti's.
After all, I was taller than her, by an inch or so.
And unlike Leti, I wanted  the largest cock, a cock
virile enough to impress Katrina, Josie, and above
all Jan.

Again Leti grasped my hand with hers; she really
loved to touch!  Josie went to the kitchen to find
a ruler while Katrina took her cell phone from her
purse. Before I realized what was going on she had
taken several photos of Leti and I, side by side,
wearing only our silicone-filled bras.

"Your cell phone has a camera in it? Katrina,
please don't!"

"Hush up, little girl," Katrina replied sternly. "I
don't take orders from sissies."

Josie returned with a ruler. "Girls, keep those
clitties hard, now. Let me start with you, Leti."
Josie smiled as she used the ruler to carefully
measure Leti. "Six and a half inches!  Oh so
exquisite, girl! I must say, dear cousin, you do
have a fine looking cock." Josie then knelt down
and gently kissed the head of Leti's penis, leaving
behind a small smudge of lipstick.

"Thank you, dearest cousin," Leti said.

Josie then addressed me. "Stand straight, dear co-
worker of mine. My, Patricia, your new titties are
so fine. Did you pick out this bra? It's so sexy!"

"No, Josie," I replied, Katrina selected it for me.
There were so many types, I didn't know where to
start."

"Don't worry, you'll soon know all about lingerie,"
she said as measured my erection once, and then,
without saying anything, painstakingly measured it
again.

"I'm sorry Leti," Josie said apologetically,  "but
I'm afraid Patricia wins his one. Her clit is only
four and a half inches, a full two inches shorter
than yours."

"No way," I said, stunned by Josie's conclusion.
"You're wrong, Josie!"

"I don't believe I'm wrong, Patricia. But here,
let's let Katie check my measurements. I thought
you'd be happy to have such a petite clit,
Patricia," Josie continued as Katrina used the
ruler to measure Leti first, then me. "Being small,
yours will fit nicely into panties. Nobody looking
at you in your lingerie would guess that., you
know. you're a husband, of all things."

"I don't have a small cock," I said loudly, beet
red with embarrassment.

Leti squeezed my hand and softly said to me, "It's
OK, Patricia, I like you like you are. I think
you're sexy. Honest!"

"Josie was right," Katie announced. My measurements
show Leticia at six and a half, and Patricia at
just under four and a half. Quite a difference."

"Yea," I said disparagingly, "but Katrina, it's
just that., maybe, I'm not all hard."

"Yes, yes, Patricia," Katrina said with a grin as
she picked up my panties and held them up high,
"don't get frantic about it. Once you put these
lovely panties back on, no one will know about it."

"About what," I said defensively.

"About your tiny penis, of course. I didn't know
cocks came in such a small size. But really,
Patricia, Josie is right. You should be pleased
that your manhood is so easily hidden inside your
panties."

"Hey, I don't have to listen to this!"

"Oh yes you do! Jan's orders, dear. As they say,
Patricia, don't get your panties in a knot!"

"Let's all kiss and make up," Josie said. "I want
Patricia to be happy, not angry."

"I'll kiss Patricia first," Leti said.

"Go ahead, cousin."

Leti gracefully knelt down in front of me and
kissed the head of my cock, just as Josie had done
earlier to hers. Then Josie did he same. Katie just
gave me a peck on my cheek. Leti kissed her cousin
and Katrina, on the lips, after which Katrina and
Josie shared a long, unusually passionate kiss.

"Now it's your turn, Patricia," Katie said.

I hesitated. "Please, Patricia," Josie and Leti
said.

Resigned to my girl role, I gave Katrina a peck on
her cheek, then kissed Josie on her soft lips, then
kissed Leti's cheek. Leti looked hurt; tears formed
in her eyes.

"Patricia, you are so mean!" Josie said harshly.
"Leti has been so very nice to you all evening. Now
you kiss her just as she kissed you."

"But Josie," I protested.

"Just do it, Patricia."

I didn't want to hurt Leti's feelings, but still,
this was asking too much. I stood, unsure of what
to do.

"C'mon, Patricia," Katie added, "it won't kill you
to be nice."

"But., but, I'm not like that.."

"Now Patricia, don't get nasty. Just give Leti a
good night kiss. She gave you one. Hurry, before
Jan returns."

Definitely not wanting Jan to witness my latest
degradation, I knelt down before Leti, leaned
forward, closed my eyes, and kissed the head of her
cock. At such a close vantage point, it was clear
to me that Leti's cock was in fact larger than
mine.

I didn't realize it at the time, but Katie took
another photo just as my lips touched Leti.

"Now, Patricia, wasn't that fun," asked Josie. I
didn't answer.

"Thank you," Leti said. She hugged me and kissed my
lips.

"OK, girls, you two can play around in bed, but not
here. Now go remove your makeup, brush your teeth
and go to bed."

"Yes, Josie," I said, reaching for my panties.

"No, no, no," Katrina chided me, "it's too
uncomfortable for a girl to sleep wearing such
tight panties. Besides, you two may want to., you
know.,  play with yourselves. Panties would just
get in your way, wouldn't they?. Now go! I'll set
your nighties on your bed while you are in the
bathroom." She slapped the left cheek of my bare
ass. Feeling totally foolish, I allowed Leti to
take my hand as we left the room, naked except for
bras, our erections still protruding.


  Part 29.

"So, guys, what's up," Jan asked as she entered
with Eduardo.

"Not a lot, Jan," Katrina replied. She was seated
on the couch, oddly close to Josie, watching a
movie. "We put the girls to bed."

"In the same bed, I suppose?"

"Yes, Jan, in the same bed. I hope you don't mind.
Patricia and Leti do get along so very well. They
are true girlfriends."

"Girlfriends? Shit! I remember when I was Tom's
girlfriend! How things change."

"Don't they ever," Katrina said. "For instance, not
too long ago I had a hairy, smelly, overweight
husband. And now I've got Josie." Josie giggled and
kissed Katrina's cheek.

"So, did they., you know., do anything?"

Josie, feeling the wine, just giggled.

"They may be doing something right now," Katrina
replied. "I haven't checked on them. I`m not sure
I'd care to see. that. going on."

Josie giggled again.

"But I do have a few photo's of the sleepover, Jan,
if you'd care to see them," Katrina said, smiling
slyly.


  Part 30.

"I hope I made you a bit more comfortable with your
new role," Leti said softly. We lay in bed
together, the room nearly dark, with just a trace
of moonlight coming in through the window. "Josie
told me you were having a tough time adapting."

"Very tough. Even now I'm thinking of just saying
to hell with it all and with everybody." Oddly, I
found it easy to talk with Leti. Despite the large
cock, which even now was semi-hard and which lay
against my thigh, Leti having cuddled in close to
me, I was unable to really see her as a male. Also,
she was now, perhaps, the only true friend I had.

"Don't even think that, Patricia! You don't know
Carlos."

"No, but I realize he could ruin me."

"And Jan, too," Leti added. "You need to just
relax, Patricia. It's clich‚, I know, but if you
just take one day at a time, soon you'll be past
this."

"And be a man again?"

"I suppose you could. I don't understand why you so
want to be a man. I've always been feminine, and
want only to be more so." Leticia kissed my neck
suggestively, and immediately I felt her cock
harden, and mine also. "As girls, we could give
each other pleasure, Patricia." Leti's cock rubbed
my thigh as she moved her hips slightly.

"I can be every bit as feminine as Jan. And so can
you. Patricia. You can be a girl. Believe it!
"You can enjoy the indescribable pleasure of
feeling like a girl. The taste of lipstick. The
feel of delicate lingerie against your body, of a
skirt draped across your thighs. The feeling of
being a woman! Believe me, Patricia, it is so very
pleasurable! Male attitudes, male responsibilities,
all gone! In their stead, gentleness, a desire to
please, to nurture, to give solace. You'll feel
soft, vulnerable, and above all, beautiful."

"You make it seem so alluring, Leti." Almost
reflexively I had begun stroking my fingers through
her long, dark hair.

"It is, Patricia!  I'm not macho. I've never been
manly, but I do have. it. between my legs. I live
and work mostly as a.man," she whispered this, as
if ashamed of her gender, "and maybe because of
that, the other universe, the female universe, oh,
Patricia, it is so very. liberating! Exhilarating!"
Leti continued kissing my neck gently; her right
hand began to stroke the insides of my thighs. I
was confused: physically, mentally, and sexually
confused. My black and white world had shattered
into a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns, ever
changing.

"Leticia, does this mean you'll have an operation
to change sex?"

"Oh, no," she said emphatically. "My sex is my
business, as far as I'm concerned. Who cares what
the world thinks? Surely I don't!

"I don't mean to brag, Patricia, but I'm already
prettier than many girls my age. Put me in a short
dress and high heels and, believe me, guys' heads
turn when I walk by! But I'm kind of partial to
that thing between my legs," she said as she rubbed
her cock against my thigh. "I wouldn't care to face
a future without orgasm. No way!

"But maybe a little cosmetic surgery. That's OK.
Maybe make my nose a tad smaller, and maybe even
add tits. You know, sometimes I dream of having
real breasts, of feeling them fill my bra, of
cupping them in my hands, of standing in front of a
full length mirror and simply admiring the
reflection of my own body, with my own real
breasts. As they say, "make me a 38B, and I'll be
happy!" Leticia laughed lightly.

"But no pussy," I questioned.

"Not if it means cutting this off," Leti said as
she took my hand in hers and guided it to her cock.
I gently grasped it. It was throbbing. I was
repulsed, but., I didn't let go.

"So, Leti, I suppose you're. gay?"

"What," she said with a laugh. "Oh, Patricia, you
are SO Republican!"

"What do you mean by that? I don't always vote for
Republicans, Leti."

"I mean you think like a Republican. You know how
they are, always classifying everyone into neat
little boxes. Republicans are simpletons. All of
them! To them, every person must be either black or
white; good or evil; gay or straight. They're all
such fools! I'm not putting you down, Patricia,
really I'm not. But to answer your question: no,
I'm not gay. At least I don't consider myself as
gay."

"But you kissed my penis just a few minutes ago."

"True, Patricia," Leti responded, laughing. "I did
kiss your penis. And I enjoyed it. And I enjoy
being close to you and touching you. So, I'm gay?
But I love females. Heck, I worship beautiful
females! So how can I be "gay"?

"I remember a couple of years ago, Patricia, when I
gave $30 to a friend's little sister just to kiss
her feet and toes. She's a petite, dark-skinned,
very pretty girl, a true Mayan goddess, and her
feet - with her pink toenail polish - just excited
me to no end! So I paid her. It was a sunny day,
very warm. We were on the grounds of a college in
west San Antonio, Our Lady of the Lake, it's
called. We went beneath a small bridge where it was
cooler. Her feet were a bit dirty and sweaty, but I
didn't mind that at all. She laughed as I kissed
her feet and each of her toes, and then she let me
suck her smaller toes. Now does that sound like
something a "gay guy" would do?

"Really, Patricia, life and sex are so much more
than a few artificial boxes constructed by vicious,
narrow-minded Republicans. Life is a delicious
smorgasbord of variations. Republicans may control
our country, but that doesn't mean they control us.
Please, don't try to fit yourself, or me, into
little boxes built by those closed-minded, mean-
spirited, right wing creeps. You'll never enjoy
life if you live it within one of their little
boxes."

"I suppose you're right, Leti," I said hesitantly.

"At least for tonight, Patricia, let's not be gay.,
or straight. Let's just accept our circumstances
and accept each other, as is. And enjoy the
evening." Leti softly, gently, kissed my lips.

I didn't speak. Leti continued to caress my smooth,
hairless body with her tongue and lips. I, much
more reserved, and even ashamed, was less
adventuresome, although I did kiss her on her mouth
as my hands roamed her he/she body, so alien to me.

Within twenty minutes Leti had completely changed
position; now her face was at my groin, and mine at
hers. I felt the wet-slick saliva of this most
unusual latina princess begin to coat my penis and,
my balls. She was slow and thorough. Yes, she did
give pleasure.

I recalled the several times I had attempted to
have Jan suck me. Each time she took offense. The
last time I had tried to work this into our sex
life she had angrily called me "perverted" and told
me to "go play with yourself in the bathroom and
let me get some sleep".  Sometimes Jan was not very
romantic.

Leti stopped for a moment to say only "Please,
Patricia" before proceeding to take my entire cock
into her mouth. I did what she wanted. It was
there, just an inch or two from my mouth.
Cautiously I took the head of Leti's cock into my
mouth and began to suck her forbidden fruit. I
closed my eyes. The scent of Leti's maleness, of
her cock-sweat, mixed with the feminine scents of
her perfumes and lotions. Soon my lips, my tongue,
and my saliva were all hers.

Yes, I knew this was wrong. Not only did the bible
and the law forbid it, but- more importantly - I
was married! I was violating my marriage covenant.
Yet, surely it would be most cruel to not return
Leti's acts of affection?


Part 31.

CLICK!

I heard the light switch. Reflexively my eyes tried
to open, but the light was too bright. Leti and I
lay on the bed - blankets and sheets having fallen
to the floor during our brief, unconsummated
passion - in classic "69" position, each still
wearing our bras, each with the other's member in
our mouth.

"How dare you," Jan screamed. "Quit that! Both of
you!"

I felt my cock freed at the same moment that I let
go of Leti's. I turned towards the door. Jan stood
there, angry, staring at me, her husband, holding
mine and Leti's panties in her hand. Katrina stood
next to her, also staring at us, a malicious grin
on her face.

"You two put on your panties, immediately, and go
to sleep. Shame on you, Patricia! And you too,
Leti."

"But Jan, you don't understand.," I said, but
having tossed the panties onto the bed, Jan quickly
left. No way would she allow me to explain - even
if I could.

"Ta, ta, ta, aren't you a naughty little girl,
Patricia. What would Thomas say about this!"
Katrina laughed, turned off the light and left, but
pointedly did not close the door. Leti and I
slipped on our panties, made the bed, then climbed
back in. Leti whispered to me that she was proud to
be my girlfriend. I closed my eyes, heartbroken,
wanting to be with my wife now, at this moment, but
fearing she might never again want me. I began to
cry. Leti cuddled next to me and we both fell
asleep.


 Part 32.

I stood in Central Park on a sunny day; all nature
was fecund, warm and rich in color. Crowds of men
and women were milling about. I saw Jan standing
about fifty feet away, pointing at me. "What is it,
honey? What's wrong?" I asked. She only pointed at
me, standing silently, looking as if she were
worried, afraid for me, speechless. I looked down
and realized I was naked. But wait! I had a woman's
body! Smooth hairless skin, breasts with large dark
nipples, vagina surrounded by a triangle of pubic
hair, belly swollen with child.

The crowds faded away. Jan, too, turned and
silently walked away. I was left standing - naked,
pregnant, female - alone in paradise.


 Part 33.

Half awake, I thought it was Jan asleep next to me,
as she had been nearly each morning since we
married. Then I noticed the jet black hair of this
woman. It was not Jan, I realized. Slowly,
piecemeal, yesterday's events I recalled. And the
dream, so vivid, bubbled up into consciousness.

Leti slept soundly at my side. I could smell her
perfume. Her breathing was soft, just like Jan's.
It was hard for me to admit to myself that this
person in my bed was male. Was this my future, too?
It did seem that Leti and I were now following
similar paths. Was I destined to live life as an
artificial woman?

I shook these thoughts from my head and gently got
out of bed, went to the bathroom and freshened up,
then, still wearing my nightie and panties, I
donned my fluffy pink slippers and walked
downstairs to the kitchen.


  Part 34.

"Good morning, cutie," said Josie, "come and sit
with us." She and Katrina were seated at the
kitchen table. Both wore simple cotton pajamas,
comfortable and practical. Because she hadn't
buttoned the top few buttons of her top, Katrina's
cleavage showed. I couldn't help but look at her
luscious, soft, white breasts. It seemed that even
the slightest movement would bare a nipple.

"Hey, princess, you like what you see?" Katrina
said, having noticed where my gaze was directed.
She moved aside her pink pajama top, exposing her
right breast to me. "Bet you just can't wait to get
your own pair of these, can you?" She laughed.
Josie reached over and covered Katrina's breast,
saying "shame on you" in a light-hearted voice.

"Take a cup of coffee and a piece of toast up to
Jan," Katrina said.

"Yes, Katrina," I replied, silently chafing that I
was being teased and ordered around by a guest in
my home. The two women watched as I toasted the
bread, spread on butter and strawberry jam, poured
coffee, and placed it all on a tray.


  Part 35.

Apprehensively I climbed the stairs. Would Jan
rebuke me over last night? Or would her love for me
finally overcome her distaste of my current
circumstances?

I lightly tapped the door several times and then
slowly opened it. Sunlight illuminated our bedroom.
Abruptly I stopped, stunned by what I saw: Eduardo,
asleep, lying naked on our bed! I felt blood drain
from my face. Jan, also naked, lay next to him,
watching me calmly, her beautiful body - my wife's
body - enticing me, exciting me.

Not at all concerned about being caught in bed with
another man, she simply said, "Hi, Patricia. You've
brought me breakfast in bed. How sweet of you!" She
sat up and motioned me to her.

"Jan., how could you? You're my wife!"

"Yes, Patricia, I'm your wife. And I'm also a
woman. I need sex, too. Just like you had to take
that cock into your mouth last night."

I set the tray on the bed stand and knelt at Jan's
side. We spoke in hushed tones, not wanting to wake
the sleeping male.

"But honey, I didn't. sleep. with Leticia."

"Actually you did. I looked in on you two later,
after you had fallen asleep in each other's arms.
My, you two make such a cute couple."

"But I didn't have sex!"

"Only because I interrupted you. Another minute or
two and you'd have been licking Leti's cum from
your lips. If that's not sex, what is? Anyway,
Patricia, we won't argue. We won't discuss this
further."

"But I'm your husband, honey! I'm your man!"

"You were a man. Now you're a girl. Sorry, but I
want a man with hard muscles and hairy legs, and
you no longer cut it, do you? Maybe, after your
punishment ends, we can resume as man and wife. But
for now, you're just a girl in a pretty negligee."

"But what if you get pregnant! Ever think of that?"

"Well, then, you'll get to be a mommy, won't you,
Patricia? Now quit grousing and fetch me a damp
wash cloth and a towel while I enjoy the nice
breakfast you brought me."

With downcast eyes I walked to the bathroom.  I
felt short of breath, faint. Yes, I had gotten what
I had wished for: Jan was no longer angry and
disgusted with me. But at what cost?

"Here, Jan," I said with resignation as I brought
her the towels, "now you can clean your hands."

"Oh, princess! They're not for my hands. They're
for my pussy. It got rather sticky down there last
night," she said with a grin. "Now wipe me down
while I finish breakfast."

"No way, Jan. No way! I can't do that."

"Shush girl, or you'll wake Eduardo. Then you'll
have to clean his cock, too. But maybe you'd like
that, Patricia?" I watched as Jan's hand gently
brushed the sleeping man's pubic hair. "Now get to
work, girl!"

I glanced again at Eduardo, naked and still
sleeping soundly. I looked to Jan; she appeared
content and satisfied for the first time since my
trip to Chicago. Jan spread her legs. I felt
foolish and humiliated, but resigned to the
inevitable. I used the damp washcloth to rub the
area around Jan's pussy, then carefully I used my
index figure to guide the cloth into my wife's
vagina. Jan nibbled on her toast and sipped her
coffee as I worked at cleaning another man's cum
from my wife's pussy. I noticed dried stains on the
sheet, remnants of last night's passion.

"Tell me, Patricia, and don't lie. Does the sight
of Eduardo's cock excite you?"

"Of course not, Jan. You know better than that."

"No, I don't know better than that. I saw you
sucking a cock last night, remember?"

"That's different, Jan," I said, still speaking in
a near-whisper. "Leti is a girl. I mean, in most
respects she's a girl."

"Just as you are a girl, "in  most respects",
Patricia."

"We're not the same, Jan."

"You and Leti are very much the same, Patricia.
You're just unwilling to admit it. But I don't
mind. Not that I like your new persona. I don't. I
wish none of this had happened. But it did.

"Last night I made Eduardo happy, and he made me
happy. Very happy. You can't make me happy like
that anymore, at least not until you become a real
man again. Just let me be happy, OK?"

I didn't respond; I didn't have to. Jan was right,
and I knew it, and she knew I knew it.

"Now that we've settled that," Jan said after a
long pause, "I need your help this morning."

"Sure," I replied glumly, "what do you need?"

"Take Eduardo's clothes to the laundry room. Rinse
out his pants and shirt and socks, then scrub and
rinse his underwear. Dry them in the dryer. If you
hurry, you can finish in a half hour, before
Eduardo wakes."

My eyes closed and a moment passed, then I said
firmly, "No! No I won't. I'm not going to wash the
clothes of the guy who just made love to my wife.
That's asking too much."

"Patricia, I'm not asking anything of you. I'm
ordering you. Now do it!"

I stood in silence for a minute, although it seemed
an hour, then went around the room picking up
Eduardo's clothes. I did not look at Jan; I was too
ashamed. Eduardo's boxer shorts were on the bed,
such that I had to reach over the sleeping man's
groin, taking care not to touch his penis. As I
left the room Jan said, "Thank's Patricia, you're a
real sweetie!"


  Part 36.

Still dressed in my nightie and fluffy pink
slippers, I hurried to the laundry room. I ran
water into the sink and searched for soap. This was
Jan's room; rarely had I entered it, and never had
I washed any clothes here. Doing laundry was, after
all, squaw work.

Before long I had finished hand washing Eduardo's
shirt, slacks, and socks, and had them in the
dryer. Then I ran fresh water into the sink to wash
his underwear.

"Patricia, what are you doing," Katrina said as she
entered the room. "Did you have a little., let's
say. accident. in your panties?"

"No, Katie," I replied with a trace of indignity.
"I did not have an accident. I'm not washing
panties."

"Oh, you're not? Well what are you washing, young
lady?"

"Why.., I'm just rinsing out. underwear," I said,
hoping she would leave.

"I see," Katrina said as she approached me.
"Underwear. Men's underwear. Hmm.., but Patricia,
no "men" live here anymore, do they?"

I remained silent, very much ashamed of my task.

"So, Patricia, who's underwear are these?" She took
the boxer sorts and held them up, examining them.
"Obviously they're not yours. So tell me, who's
underwear are you washing?"

"Eduardo's," I said in a whisper, hardly able to
get the word out.

"What? I can't hear you, Patricia."

"Eduardo's," I repeated. "I'm washing Eduardo's
clothes. I'm doing it for Jan."

"Oh, yes," Katrina said in a mocking voice, "I
see., Eduardo is asleep upstairs, with Jan, your
"wife". Or is Jan your husband, Patricia? I do get
so confused! It's so difficult to keep everything
straight, isn't it, young lady?"

"Katie, please don't tease me," I begged, nearly
crying.

"But I'm not teasing, Patricia. In fact, I'm just.
amazed. that you've adapted so well to your new
role in life. I mean, women must get used to
cleaning their mens' underwear. It's just one of so
many tasks which we females must do!"

"Eduardo is not my "man", Katrina."

"That's right, Patricia, Eduardo is not your man.,
not yet, anyhow. Jan might not like it if pretty
Patricia gets all hot for her man. But don't worry,
you'll get a man. It's just a matter of time,
sweetie. Now, look here," she continued cruelly,
holding the boxer shorts in front of me, "see that
brown streak in Eduardo's underwear? Men are so
nasty, aren't they! They dirty their underwear, and
we women are forced to clean them. You must use a
scrub brush and soap on the brown streak, Patricia.
Scrub out the man-stains! Believe me, you have no
idea of what "women's work" entails. But you are
learning, Patricia."


 Part 37.

Following Katrina's instructions, I was soon
scrubbing Eduardo's underwear, my resistance - my
pride - disappearing as swiftly as the brown stain
on his shorts. Actually, I began to realize that
women's work wasn't really so demeaning. Yesterday,
while housecleaning, and today while making Jan's
breakfast, I had begun to experience an odd peace
of mind. Why? It was something about the non-stress
nature of the rote female tasks which eased my
mind.

"Hi, Patricia," Josie said, interrupting my
thoughts, "Katie said you were here washing
clothes."

"And I suppose she told you whose clothes I'm
cleaning."

"Yes, Patricia, she did." Josie was silent for a
while, waiting for me to speak. She noticed a few
tears roll down my cheeks. I remained silent as I
ironed Eduardo's shirt. Josie approached me and
gently placed her hand on my shoulder.

"May we talk a bit, Patricia?" she asked quietly.
I nodded my head.

"Look, Patricia, sometimes, when a woman is
troubled, it's best if she does household chores,
or sewing, or knitting. Often, after a while,
life's sharp, jagged pieces begin to fit together.
To make sense."  She paused, collecting her
thoughts.

"Look, Jan needed a man last night. Her world was
crumbling, she felt alone, and then, at her
weakest, she sees you and Leti doing. it. And
Eduardo hadn't had a woman for months, since he was
last home in Mexico City. They were two jagged
pieces which, last night, just happened to fit
together. What happened was natural.

"Eduardo did not "take" your wife, Patricia. She
took him. I know Eduardo couldn't care less about
whether you wear boxer shorts or panties. His only
concern is doing what Carlos demands. He's just a
lonely man separated from his woman, just as you
are lonely now, separated - in a different way -
from Jan.  You found some joy with Leti, and
Eduardo found some with Jan."

"But Josie," I exclaimed, "look at me! What am I?
A man? A woman? Hell, I'm not even sure anymore!
And now my wife is upstairs in bed with another
man, while I'm down here, wearing a cute gown,
ironing his clothes. This isn't right, Josie! It
just isn't right. Don't you see that?"

"That's because you're thinking of yourself as a
man, Patricia. Stop that!  Just think of yourself
as a female, and then these jagged pieces begin to
mesh nicely. Try it."

"But Josie, I'm not like Leti. I can't think of
myself as a woman."

"Oh yes you can, Patricia. And before long you
will. Then you'll be happy again. You and Leti are
very much alike. Very much."

"No, Josie. I'm a man."

"You may be male, but you have a feminine essence.
I sensed it when I first met you. It's not
something one can hide, you know. At least not from
other females. We know. We can see right through
false macho posturing. Believe me, if you didn't
have a female's soul, you'd have never allowed me
to dress you so nicely back in Chicago. You'd have
just refused. End of story. But you didn't refuse.
In fact, you trembled as I hooked that bra on you
at Nordstrom's. I felt you tremble, Patricia!

"Eduardo, on the other hand, has no female essence.
None. And what's why neither you nor I can picture
him in a dress. You're not like him, Patricia.
You're not."

I was silent. I feared Josie might be right. If so,
I could not face this truth.

"Patricia, Katie says she'll work with you with
your transformation. She'll help you."

"Katrina?"

"Yes. She's got some type of shock therapy which
she says will help you adjust. She's convinced Jan
that it would be best for you to.submit. to her
treatment."

"But all Katie does is ridicule me, Josie. I don't
want any of her "shock therapy"."

"I don't think you have a choice in the matter,
Patricia. Now you better get those clothes up to
Eduardo. And after that you better dress. You can't
spend all day in a nightgown. Only tramps do that."

I finished folding the clothes, now clean and fresh
smelling, then followed Josie from the laundry
room. Apprehensively I walked up the stairs,
wondering what future waited me.


          Part 38
         ---------

"SNAP!!"

"SNAP!!"

"SNAP!!"


The pain seemed unending, each jolt hurting more
than the previous one. Cold sweat formed on my
forehead as tears streamed from my eyes. I lay
belly-down on a medical examiner's table, naked
save for a pink panty girdle which Katrina had
loaned me. The panties were trimmed with white lace
and had images of roses embroidered onto their
front.

"Very well, very well..., now I'll start on your
other leg. Are you OK, Patricia?"

"Well," I replied weakly, "It does kinda hurt."

"Of course it hurts a bit, dear, but surely not
that much," said Jeri, a 25 year old nursing
student who worked here to earn money for
schooling. "Don't be such a sissy.  I mean., ah..,
I'm sorry, Patricia. I didn't mean it that way."

"SNAP!!"

"SNAP!!"

The pain seemed unbearable, but I didn't speak up.
I didn't cry, although tears flowed from my eyes
which, with my face pressed against the table, were
hidden from Jeri. Odd as my situation seemed, I
vowed to accept the pain like a man. I wanted, I
desperately needed, to show the pretty nurse that I
was male, to convince her that despite my
appearance I was a tough man able to take pain with
impunity.

My mind visualized the situation: Jeri, a comely
brunette wearing pale blue nursing scrubs, standing
aside my nearly naked body, laying prone before
her.  Earlier she had used chalk to carefully draw
lines over my entire body, and now, focusing upon
one segment at time, she applied a probe against my
clean shaven skin, firing, again and again, jets of
near-fire into my body.

"SNAP!!"

"SNAP!!"

"SNAP!!"

This continued until the entire back of each leg
had been treated. How many times had she fired her
probe? Hundreds? Thousands? I had no idea.

"OK, Patricia, now comes a tricky part. I'll need
you to lower your panties a few inches so that I
can treat your buns. Just do it without getting up.
I don't want to see your, you know, your "private
parts".  Just slide your panties down carefully.
That's a good girl."

My hands, trembling from the ordeal, reached down
and grasped the waistband of Katrina's panties.
After a few moments of struggle I was able to get
them down around my thighs. I felt deeply
humiliated lying there.

"SNAP!!"

My fists clenched the sides of the examining table.

"SNAP!!"

"SNAP!!"

"Please, Patricia, hold still! Otherwise I'll have
to call in the doctor to hold you down."

"No, please don't, ma'am. Please!"

"Then stay still. You're lucky you don't have thick
hair. Why, I've worked on a few real women with
more body hair than you have.  Now try to get your
butt up higher, please."

"Ha?  How., what do you want me to do?"

"You know, Patricia, Up in the air! I need it to be
higher and sticking out so that I can access the
folds under your cheeks. C'mon. Pull your knees
forward."

I moved around a bit, still unsure of what Jeri
wanted.

"Please, Patricia!" Jeri said, exasperated. "Just
pretend that you're offering your ass to a big,
handsome guy. Surely you fantasize about that?"

""No, I don't," I replied, miffed, although now I
understood what position to assume.


"SNAP!!"

"SNAP!!"

I was crying now - both from pain and humiliation-
as Jeri slowly and methodically zapped every square
inch of each of my ass.


"SNAP!!"

"SNAP!!"


Part 39
--------

"Well, Thomas, we're half done. I've never treated
an entire body - a male body at that - during one
visit. You'll have to forgive me, I need to take
fifteen minutes or so to review my schedule and to
check with Doctor Adams.  And to freshen up a bit.
While I'm out, please pull your panties back up and
turn over onto your back.  If you also need to
freshen up, the mens room is out in the hallway to
the left." Jeri opened the door and began to exit,
then stopped to add, "And, ah., the womens room is
on the other side of the waiting room, if, well,
you know, if that's where you are, well, more
comfortable?"

I looked up at Jeri, standing at the door, my eyes
red from crying; she stood there, looking so pretty
even though dressed in her drab, loose-fitting
scrubs, gazing down at me with a somewhat unsure
grin. I couldn't tell if she was smiling at my
predicament or if her grin was there to mask a
feeling of pity.

"Yes, thank you," I replied, looking away so as to
hide my shame. Jeri closed the door behind her.

I stood up, wobbly, pulled Katrina's tight panty
girdle up, then carefully tucked my penis down and
under, not wanting to be embarrassed during the
last half of my treatment. Exhausted, I lay down
upon the examining table and closed my eyes. Only
half-awake, my mind flitted over the events of the
past couple of days. I recalled my discussion with
Jan as I left home yesterday, how Jan implored me
to accept, without protest, Katrina's assistance.
That Jan had agreed with Katrina what was best for
me. That I had no choice; not only was my future,
and maybe my very life, at stake, but also Jan's
future and, without any doubt, our future as
husband and wife. "Just go along with it,
Patricia," Jan had said. "It's for the best.
Believe me on this. If you love me, you'll do what
I, or Katrina, or Josie, or any of us ask. Before
you know it summer will be over and your sentence
will be over, too."

The next morning Katrina began her "shock therapy".
I had been moved into her apartment, with Jan
warning me never to return home - to our home -
without first contacting her and getting her
approval. My home was now off limits to me even as
I, the "I" of 20-plus years, effectively ceased to
exist. Little did I suspect the term "shock
therapy" was to be taken literally.

Katrina chose my outfit and at 9:00 a.m. sharp she
pulled into a medical clinic located in an older
lower middle-class area of north Dallas.

"Patricia, I've made an appointment for you here,
for a laser treatment. To get your hair thinned
out. Don't worry," she continued, noticing my
surprised look, "it'll grow back in a few months."

"But what if it doesn't? I can't lose my body hair,
Katrina."

"Well, you'll have to trust me. Now get in there.
Your appointment is with Jeri."

"But Katrina, can't you come in with me?"

"No, I've other matters to attend to. Now get out.
Call me when you finish. Go! Use your credit card
to pay for the treatment. Go!!"

  Part 40
  --------

The receptionist's brown eyes looked directly into
my eyes, which Katrina had forced me to highlight
with mascara and dark eyeliner.

"May I help you, ma'am," she asked.

"I have an appointment with Jeri," I replied in the
soft, feminine voice which Katrina had coached me
on.  "For a laser treatment."

"Please sign in and provide your drivers license
and credit card."

"Thomas.," the receptionist drawled, staring at me.
"So.., you're Thomas?"

"Yes, ma'am" I replied softly, turning red.

A slight smile formed on the young lady's face as
she asked me to have a seat and wait until I was
called.


Part 41
 ------

The sound of the door closing interrupted my
flashback. It was Jeri. She stared silently at me,
now lying on my back, naked except for Katrina's
panties. I looked at her with an expression of
fright and apprehension.

"Thomas," she said while marking my belly and chest
with a red pen, "we'll leave you a nice triangle of
pubic hair. Girls have that, you know." I could
feel the cold tip of the pen drawing a line below
my navel. Jeri pulled down the waist of my panties
to gain better access. I felt utterly powerless.

"Your nails are pretty, Thomas. You must have had
them professionally done."

"Yes, ma'am, I did."

"Spread your legs a bit, dear," she said with a
slight grin. I felt the tip of the laser touch my
skin just below my navel.

"SNAP!"

I tensed in pain.

"SNAP!"

"SNAP!"

Jeri was mute as she methodically attacked nearly
every square inch of my body. Soon tears again
flowed from my eyes.

 Part 42
 --------

"Done. For today, that is," Jeri said as a final
jolt of laser penetrated my upper lip. "Now please
dress while I turn the laser machine off and
prepare your invoice." Jeri's voice was firm and
commanding. It held no hint of compassion for the
pain I had just suffered.

Slowly I rose from the examining table. I felt
foolish, of course, alone in this small room with
this pretty girl. I waited, hoping Jeri would leave
and provide me a bit of privacy.

"Please hurry," she said, noticing me standing
shyly.

Sore everywhere, I took my bra from the desk where
I had lain my clothing.  I turned away from Jeri,
then struggled to don it. Once on, I put silicon
inserts into the bra's cups. By now, after a few
days of wear, the slight heaviness on my chest felt
almost comforting. Next I took my white slip and,
with Jeri watching, draped it over my head; it hung
nicely upon my feminized body. It took several
minutes to get into my pantyhose as my legs were so
raw! Finally I put on the navy blue shift which
Katrina had selected for me this morning.

Jeri's gaze shifted between her paperwork and me. I
sat upon the corner of the examination table to put
on my shoes; they were cute shoes, blue to match my
dress, open toed, with heels about an inch and a
half in height. They reminded me of a pair that Jan
owned; I had always admired the shape of her feet
and her legs when she wore pretty heels. Now, I
realized, my feet had a similar girlish allure. I
glanced at Jeri's feet; she wore simple white
canvas shoes with white cotton socks.

"Thomas," Jeri said in a matter-of-fact voice, as
if there were nothing unusual about all of this,
"take this paperwork to the front desk. The
receptionist will issue you a receipt and schedule
your next appointment."

"Yes, ma'am., thank you.," I mumbled. I took the
papers and was about to leave the room when Jeri
spoke again.

"Wait! Wait a second, Thomas," Jeri suddenly said
in an unusually warm voice, as if she had briefly
stepped outside her role of stern nurse. I turned
to face her; Jeri's pretty deep blue eyes looked at
me with concern.

"Your mascara, Thomas. It's smudged. You just cry
too much, dear. More than any girl I've ever
treated."  She took a tissue and carefully wiped
mascara and eyeliner from my cheeks. "Being a girl
isn't always easy, Thomas, and it isn't always fun.
Not even for real girls."

"Thank you, ma'am.  Thank you," I replied sincerely
as she gently touched my shoulder.

 Part 43
 --------

After handing the paperwork to the receptionist I
again took a seat in the waiting room. Nearly noon,
the room was now filled almost entirely with young
Hispanic mothers, their young children in tow.
None were wealthy; it was obvious that this clinic
served mostly patients covered by Medicare or other
government welfare programs. Most of the women wore
simple skirt-blouse outfits; some wore simple
housedresses. None wore pants, nor were any wearing
high heels or pantyhose. However, all did wear
earrings and most had painted fingernails and
toenails. Dressed as I was, a white "woman" in
fashionable clothing, I'd have felt out of place in
this room even if I were female. As a male, well,
you can imagine.

I took one of the few empty seats. At my right was
a pretty chicana, about 5'3", with large gold hoop
earrings. Her young son was on the floor, at her
feet, playing with a toy firetruck.  At my left sat
a dark-skinned young girl, maybe ten years old;
wearing a faded school uniform, she nervously
fidgeted and repeatedly smoothed her skirt.

There was not one man in the room, save for me.
Suddenly I was flushed with an odd feeling of being
less than a man. Less than male. I timidly gazed
around the room. These young women, all of them,
were real females. Real women, with real breasts
and vaginas. Women who used their fertile young
bodies for God's purpose: to breed. I glanced down
at my crotch, which was covered by the skirt of my
blue dress: I could no longer feel, or even
visualize, my penis, my manhood! Instead, I swear I
could actually feel a vagina - yes - a vagina!  A
cold sweat wracked my body; surely the pain of my
laser treatment had disoriented me. Surely that was
my problem. Time seemed to slow to a frozen
stillness. I was engulfed by some mystic female
essence. I could feel it, I could smell it. I
imagined all of us - naked: all of the young, firm
smooth bodies, the full breasts, the dark pubic
hair hiding ultimate mysteries! And me, naked like
them, with smooth white skin and painted nails, but
with my small, useless male-less penis hanging
limply.

"Margarita Gonzalez."  The name was announced
loudly over the loudspeaker so as to be heard above
the noise of a dozen or so children's voices. I saw
a young lady rise, grasp her little girl's hand,
then exit through the door leading to the
examination rooms.

"Maria Sanchez."  Again a young lady rose and
accompanied her frightened child out of the waiting
room. But for each name called, it seemed two more
women arrived. The room was now too full; a short
pregnant girl who looked to be just a child herself
stood quietly near me, leaning against a wall,
unable to find a seat.

"Thomas Johanson." The words echoed through the
room, surprising me with the realization of who I
was.  Everyone in the room had heard my name, my
male name. Trembling, I had just begun to rise from
my chair when again the loudspeaker announced:
"Thomas Johanson, please come to the cashier's
window."

"Yes," I said after reaching the cashier.

"You are Thomas Johanson," she asked loudly enough
so that everyone nearby could hear.

"Yes.  Yes I am."

"Here's your bill. May I have your credit card .,
sir?"

My credit card? I suddenly realized I'd forgotten
my purse somewhere. My face flushed.

"But.,  but I don't have my wallet., I think I left
it in the examining room! I was with Jeri, with the
laser."  An awkward silence followed.

"Yes., well..," the cashier turned to a young lady
beside her, "Joanna, would you check the laser room
to see if this., man's., wallet is there. Please?"

"Oooooohhh  Kaaaa..,' Joanna replied as she looked
me over. "What does it look like?"

"Well., it's not really a wallet," I replied
sheepishly. "It's a, you know, a., purse. A blue
purse., with a long strap."

"Si,  Yo comprendo:" the young latina said to me,
"you may have left your pretty blue purse in the
examining room. I'll see if it's there. Please take
your seat."

Flushed, I returned to my seat and sat down. Now
many of the young ladies were stealing glances at
me and several were conversing in Spanish,
presumably about me. Within a few minutes Joanna,
wearing a white uniform, approached carrying my
purse.

"Your purse was still there, Mr. Johanson," she
said with a grin. "Lucky for you it wasn't stolen!
You know, sir, a girl should never let her purse
out of her sight!"

"That's right," exclaimed a little girl who was
seated across from me as she jumped out of her
chair to join in, "my mommy taught me that! `Don't
forget your purse, mi nina', that's what my mommy
says. Isn't that right, mommy?"  The girl, totally
unaware of the awkwardness of my situation, took
her little red purse from her mother's lap and
showed it to Joanna and I. "See, this is my purse!
And there's red lipstick in it!" She took the tube
of lipstick from her purse and handed it to Joanna.

"My, that's very nice," Joanna said to the skinny,
barefoot girl dressed in a simple green jumper. Her
tiny toenails and fingernails were bright red, and
her long black hair was tied in a ponytail.

The little girl looked at me innocently and asked
"when you were little, did your mommy tell you to
always take your purse with you?"

Joanna laughed and addressed the girl: "No, nina, I
suspect that Mr. Johanson didn't learn such things
from his mommy."

"Now hush, mi nina!" said the girl's mother, "Sit
down and leave the lady alone!" Wearing a simple
jean skirt and yellow tee shirt, she appeared to be
embarrassed by the anglo "lady" sitting across from
her.

"Yes, mama," the girl said happily as she snuggled
onto her mother's lap.

Part 44
 --------

"You must understand, Patricia, I will be harsh
when necessary. But it's for your own good. And for
the good of my friend, Jan. I don't want to see her
hurt, nor you. And from what Josie told me, if you
don't behave and cooperate fully, there will be
serious consequences both to you and to Jan."

I felt Katrina's gentle hands massage my lower
legs. She rubbed me with a lotion Jeri had
prescribed to help me heal from the laser
treatment. I was naked, lying face down on the bed
which was now mine. The room, which was down the
hall from Katrina's own bedroom, was painted a pale
pink; the frilly bedcover had been pulled aside. A
vase holding freshly cut flowers sat upon my
dresser, filling the room with a pleasant
fragrance.

"But Katrina, why? What did I do that was so
wrong?"

"Don't ask me," she replied, "I'm a girl. I never
did understand men."

"It's just not right! It's not fair. It's surely
not legal, is it? I shouldn't be putting up with
this," I said sternly.

"But you are, Patricia. And you will, because you
don't want Jan hurt. Do you?"

"No, Katrina.  No I don't," I said with an air of
resignation. She was now rubbing the lotion onto my
buttocks. It felt very pleasurable.

"It's your fault, Patricia.  According to Josie,
those guys live by a code. And they often die by
that code. A guy fights back when attacked. He puts
his life on the line to protect his team. Rather
like a gang, I suppose. But you didn't do that, did
you? At the moment of crisis, you hid in the ladies
room. Gosh, Patricia!"

"Yea., but.," I attempted to respond, but couldn't.

"Hey, girl, like I said, it's a male thing. I can't
understand it because I'm female. To me,  hiding in
the ladies room when guys start shooting is a smart
move.  And you can't understand it either, that
male `code of honor' thing - after all, that is why
you're here, isn't it?" Clearly tiring of my
protests, Katrina's tone had become harsh.

Katrina had me turn over onto my back, then
continued her task, beginning with my arms, skinny
and now wholly hairless, then moving to my bare
chest. Before long she was massaging the insides of
my thighs. When Jeri had treated this area the
tight panty girdle had hid my genitals. (Also, Jeri
had me cup my hands over my crotch, saying "Modesty
is much admired in girls, Thomas.") Katrina was not
as discreet. Soon her ministrations caused my prick
to harden. It stood straight up; I was both
embarrassed and excited.

"Jeri did a great job, didn't she, Patricia? Your
body looks so., feminine. I don't feel any stubble
when I rub you. Oh, and I really like that she left
a nice triangle of pubic hair. It's so., so female!
Don't you think?"

"Katrina, please!" I protested. "I'm not feminine."

"Yes you are, so get used to it, GIRL!" Katrina
snapped.  I said nothing as she continued her
strange, twisted, massaging of my naked body, all
the while ignoring my erection as if it were too
insignificant to comment upon.

"Don't ever forget," she continued after a pause,
"I'm the boss. You, Patricia, are merely a slave.
Submit, and you -and Jan- will be fine. But if you
attempt to resist me, well, Eduardo is just a phone
call away. But hell, I can kick your pansy ass on
my own, even without him. Now shut up while I
finish."

Although it was only mid-afternoon, I was exhausted
from the laser treatment: the anxiety, the
humiliation, the physical pain. Soon the calming
effect of Katrina's gentle massage seduced me into
a deep sleep.

Part 45
 --------

First I became aware of a fine scent of feminine
body lotions, and then of soft voices coming from
Katrina's living room. The lights were off, yet the
fading rays of the sun penetrating the lace
curtains of my room suffused the room with a dim
light. I tried to turn onto my side, seeking a more
comfortable position, but couldn't. This
realization of being trapped jarred me awake.

My hands and legs were bound to the four bedposts
with a pink lacy material which, although appearing
as flimsy as a girl's garter belt, proved to be
unbreakable. I couldn't move more than a few
inches. I was lying naked on my back, just as when
I'd fallen asleep. I struggled, fruitlessly, to
either break my bonds or slip free from them,
finally giving up. What the hell was Katrina up to
now, I wondered. Not wanting to call attention to
myself in this demeaning position, I remained quiet
and pondered my situation.

On the wall were two large pictures which had been
hung there while I slept; each was a large
photograph, maybe two feet wide by three feet high.
One was a photo of a tall, very muscular man,
naked, in a body-builder's pose, his large unerect
penis hanging down maybe seven inches, clearly
visible.  The other photo was also of a naked male;
while nearly as muscular as the other, this man had
a darker complexion. Unlike the other man, this
male's enormous cock was fully erect and his right
hand appeared to beckon the observer to come
closer. The second photo was particularly
suggestive.

Each of these photos were hung high such that, in
my bound position, I could not avoid staring at
them.

Part 46
 --------

After what seemed an hour or two, Katrina entered,
followed by two women. She switched on the bright
ceiling light, temporarily blinding me.  When my
eyes adjusted I recognized Sandy, Jan's best
friend. The other woman, whom I did not recognize,
was, like Katrina, tall, thin, and blond. Very
cute, she wore a low-cut pale green blouse and a
short tan skirt. Although I was unable to see her
feet, judging by her height I assumed she wore high
heels.

"Katrina, what in hell is going on," I asked, more
in a questioning tone than a demanding tone.

"Hi, Patricia," Katrina said as she sat beside me
on the bed. She reached over and grabbed my balls,
then began to squeeze. A terrible pain wracked my
loins. "I thought we had agreed that you would use
your most feminine voice." she paused for a few
moments, then continued, "at all times!"  She
squeezed harder and I screamed from the pain.

"Now, dear Patricia," Katrina continued, having let
loose of me, "what were you saying?"

I waited a few moments for my nerves to settle and
then, using the feminine voice Katrina had taught
me, I asked meekly, "Katrina, why did you tie me
up?" Under the bright lights the tears streaming
from my eyes were surely visible to the three
women.

"Now that is so much better, Patricia," Katrina
said with a grin. "Remember, a girl doesn't want to
just look pretty; she also wants to sound sweet and
sexy!

"So, you ask, why are you tied up? It's for your
own good, of course. It's very important that the
lotion I applied to you is not rubbed off for
awhile. Plus we won't need to worry about you
scratching your laser sores.

"Patricia, of course you know Sandy."

"Hi, Patricia," Sandy said in a rather stunned
voice.

"And allow me to introduce Julia," Katrina
continued.

"Hello, Patricia," the tall blond said with a
giggle.

I was initially silent, but upon noticing Katrina's
stern look I responded, weakly, "Hello, Sandy;
Hello Julia," again using a feminine falsetto.

Julia smiled broadly.

"So, girls," Katrina continued, "what do you think
of Patricia's new look?"

"Really sweet!" Julia replied. With her index
finger she touched my chest, moved it slowly in
circles around my nipples. "And so smooth! Jeri did
a great job. Did you know, Patricia, that Jeri is
my cousin? I told Katie how easy laser hair removal
is, and she just knew it was perfect for you!" Now
her finger traced the edge of my "triangle" of
pubic hair. "Well, let's get started."

"Started? Started with what?" I asked
apprehensively.

"Titties, Patricia. Titties! Just for you." Julia
proceeded to set a small bag and two white boxes on
the bed beside me. "I've got perfect female breasts
- of the silicone variety, that is. They'll glue
onto you and stay on for a week at a time, maybe
longer. Believe me, you'll love them!"

"But please," I begged, looking towards Katrina, "I
already have a pair. You know that, Katrina. I can
use those, can't I?  Please, Katrina!" In fear of
Katrina's withering grip, I continued speaking in a
feminine voice.

"No, Patricia! Must I make it perfectly clear -
again -  that I make decisions here, not you?" I
felt Katrina's hand grasp my groin.

"OK!  OK., I'm sorry, Katrina. Don't hurt me.
Please!  You're right, Katrina, you're right. But.,
at least allow me to sit up so that Julia can do it
better.

"Ahhhh!!!   Pleeeaasss.!" I screamed as Katrina
gripped my balls and squeezed again, this time even
harder than before.

"Don't you see, Patricia? We are doing what's best
for you. All of us are. Aren't we, girls?"

"Sure thing," Julia said with a laugh as she
removed a silicone breast from its box.

I looked towards Sandy, standing between the two
blonds. She was shorter and heavier, but
nonetheless very pretty with her dark hair and
luscious, full red lips.

"Yes..," Sandy said hesitantly, "I suppose so.." A
concerned look crossed her face. What, I wondered,
did she feel as she witnessed the humiliation of
her best friend's husband.

"Look, Patricia," Julia said, holding one of the
breasts in front of me, "see the nice, large
nipple. Oh, but won't you be sexy! And motherly!"
It took her only a few minutes to cement the two
female beasts onto my chest. I didn't resist; I
just lay there, passively, my eyes closed and my
mind nearly blank.

"Now just a touch of makeup to better blend
silicone with skin, and we'll be finished," Julia
said as she spread a bit of a type of foundation
along the edges of my new breasts.

"OK, Patricia, now open your eyes, girl," Julia
commanded. She held a mirror before me so that,
even as I lay flat on my back, I could inspect my
feminized chest. I was astonished to see the sight
of female breasts protruding from my smooth chest.
As I had always been skinny, my chest had never
been at all masculine. Tears formed in my eyes and
began to slowly run down my cheeks.

"Patricia, dear, crying with joy, are you? Oh, by
the way, dear, don't you simply love the nice
photos I've hung on your walls," Katrina goaded.

"Katrina, please," I spoke, softly, earnestly, "you
know I'm not, you know., like that."

"Au contraire, young lady, I know nothing of the
sort! Didn't I see you sucking a cock - and a very
large cock at that - just last night?" As Katrina
spoke I felt Julia's hand massage my cock and
balls, moving softly but surely; Julia had the
practiced moves of a hooker.

"See, girls, how Patricia gets all excited when the
talk veers towards men, towards husky, muscular
men, and sucking cock? Whoa! Our little girl's clit
is throbbing, isn't it now? Whatever will we do
with this naughty girl?"

I struggled for a brief moment but, still unable to
free myself, soon acquiesced to Julia's gentle
ministrations. I noticed Sandy standing back
against the wall watching silently and, it seemed,
somberly.

"Look at the picture, Patricia. See, that's a real
man's erection - it's much different then this so-
called penis that's between your legs, isn't it,
girl? Yes indeed, Patricia darling, imagine you and
that man together. Oh, what pleasure you would
experience!" Katrina droned on and on, lucidly
describing imagined sex acts as Julia caressed the
underside of my cock with her finger, moving it
lightning-fast. My face flushed; my body tensed.

Katrina, now standing at the head of my bed,
grasped the sides of my face in her hands so as to
force my gaze onto the obscene photograph, and
loudly commanded, "Patricia, look! A REAL MAN! Go
ahead, Patricia, show us how much you desire him!"

Well, no, I did not desire the man in the
photograph, that gross, muscle bound male; I
desired no man! But Julia's deft handling of my
balls even as she stroked my cock had its
inevitable consequence. Darkness seemed to envelop
me as I closed my eyes to my unimaginable reality.
I felt Julia release my genitals as Katrina
released my head and, at that moment, I was wracked
by a tremendous orgasm, one spurt followed by
another, and another, and more, each of decreased
intensity. A moan escaped from my lungs.

The initial spurt landed upon my face; the second
landed on my chest, between my artificial breasts.
Within moments I could feel warm cum splattered
over my face, chest, belly and groin; I could feel
the cum dripping off of me and onto the bed sheet.

Nobody spoke. When finally I opened my eyes I saw
the three young women standing at the sides of my
bed, staring at me. Katrina smiled as if she had
just managed to accomplish something of importance.
Julia also smiled. Sandy looked shocked, even
embarrassed. Would she describe this to Jan? Would
Sandy tell her husband and friends, most of whom I
knew?

"Nasty little girl! You've really made a mess now,"
Julia scolded. "You need a real vagina, Patricia.
Vaginas are clean, not disgusting like your thing."

"Let's go, girls," Katrina said. "Patricia probably
needs a rest after that performance. Let's let her
sleep and dream of her man."

"But Katrina, please! Don't leave me here like
this. At least let me clean myself up. Please!"

"No way, honey; can't let you loose yet. Doctor's
orders. But maybe Julia or Sandy will wipe you
off." Katrina looked towards Julia.

"No way! Don't think I'm gonna touch that stuff,"
Julia exclaimed.

All eyes turned towards Sandy. She blushed as she
responded softly, "Oh no.  No. I'm married. I can't
touch another man's semen. I can't.."

"But Sandy," Katrina said, "Patricia's not really a
man."

Sandy looked at me, looked into my eyes. I lay
there, bound and naked, my face made up like a
hooker's, my nails painted bright red, my erection
fading. Semen glistened upon my face and chest.

"I'm sorry, Thomas..,  Patricia.., I just can't., I
won't., touch your body or.your.your semen," Sandy
said, clearly distraught.

"Katrina, NO! You can't leave me like this!" I
yelled.

"Oh, my, I was afraid of this, Patricia," Katrina
said mockingly, "Julia, show our dear girl what
else you have in your bag." I watched, astonished,
as Julia took out a large dildo shaped like a man's
erect member, and held it a couple of inches in
front of my mouth.

"Open up, Patricia," Julia said as I felt Katrina
firmly grasp my balls and began to squeeze. I
started to protest but Julia used the opportunity
to plunge the rubber penis into my mouth. Within
moments she had secured it firmly with a thin red
strap. Gagged, I struggled to protest, efforts
which caused Julia and Katrina to laugh aloud.

Katrina turned off the overhead lights, leaving
only one directional light focused upon the
photograph of the man with the erection. "Bye,
Patricia," Katrina said with a laugh as the women
left the room, then added, "Now don't jerk off,
girl!"

Part 47
 --------

"It's all a bit much. I don't know what to think,
really. I never disliked Thomas, you see. He
treated Jan well. It just doesn't seem right to
treat him like this."

"Oh, Sandy, please! Get with the program, will you?
I'm doing this for his own good, and for Jan's.
That Carlos guy is not to be shrugged off like a
flea. By getting Thomas to accept his punishment,
embrace it even, we are saving Jan's livelihood
and, just maybe, Thomas' very life. Jan agrees with
me, Sandy." Katrina paused to sip of her coffee.
Julia had already left and Sandy would leave after
finishing her drink. The two pretty women sat at
the small breakfast table in Katrina's kitchen. A
radio played classical music in the background.

"But why is such, well, debasement, necessary? Why
not just let him wear a dress and let it go at
that?"

"Because, Sandy, a man can't just put on a dress
and - poof! - like magic - become a woman. No,
Sandy, we must first destroy Thomas' manhood. Only
then will Patricia's latent femininity come to
fore. You know, it's like a butterfly emerging from
a cocoon."

"Well, Katrina, since Jan thinks it best to put her
husband through this, I won't second guess you two.
I t does seem, though, that you enjoy punishing
Thomas."

"Yes," Katrina said with a laugh, "I guess in a way
I do. I sometimes imagine doing this to my ex,
transforming him into an effeminate dickless
wonder. Force him to swallow a man's cum, just like
he made me swallow his whenever I was on my period.
Yes, that would be heaven!  But for now, I'll just
have to settle for Thomas."

 Part 48
 --------

I awoke, shivering with cold. The sun had set. The
room was dark except for the one light which
Katrina had left on. The illuminated image stared
at me: the muscular man with the enormous prick,
beckoning to me. I knew my manhood was not as large
as his., hell, it wasn't even close!  Maybe Katrina
was right: maybe I was something less than a man. I
could see my female breasts, protruding from my
chest, gently rise and fall with each breath.

I could not call out for help as the thick dildo
was inserted firmly into my mouth. I screamed but
made only grumbling noises, and soon gave up. All
was eerily quiet, the apartment empty except for
me.

Suffering great pain, I finally conceded to
nature's call. First I felt the flow of warm liquid
spread between my legs and form a puddle under my
ass; then, with difficulty, I strained to eject the
contents of my bowels. When finished, I just lay
there, soiled but relieved, staring at the "real
man" in the photograph. How, I wondered, had things
come to this? And why?

Part 49
 --------

Having lost track of time, all I knew was that
there was daylight outside. I'd slept poorly during
the night; each time I awoke my eyes opened to the
picture of the muscular male and his everlasting
erection. My body ached from being motionless for
so long. I was thirsty and hungry and sick from the
stench which now filled the room.

I heard the door open; I turned my head to see Jan
standing in the doorway. As always, she was
stunningly beautiful. Dressed for work, Jan wore a
finely-tailored rose colored suit, its skirt
falling just below her knees. Her matching purse
hung from her left shoulder. She stood silently,
momentarily shocked to see her husband in such a
degrading position. Overcome by the weight of my
debasement before my lovely wife, tears began to
flow from my eyes.

I tried to speak, but couldn't, as the rubber penis
filled my mouth.

"It's OK. Patricia, it's all OK. Don't cry, my
dear, don't cry." Her hand gently stroked my cheeks
and forehead. "You had to experience this. Your
trials will make you a stronger woman. It was
necessary: for you, for me, for us." Jan's eyes
were wet with tears. She took a small scissor from
her purse and snipped my four bindings. Although
free, I was too stiff to move. After putting rubber
gloves on her hands, she gently removed the dildo
and set it on my crotch, where it lay, looking so
much larger than my natural cock.

Next my wife took a hypodermic needle from her
purse and, as she filled it with a clear liquid,
said softly, "This will make you feel better,
Patricia. I'll come by every couple of days and
give you a booster. You have pills, too. After a
couple of weeks you'll need only take the pills.
Katrina will help."

"Why.?" I asked, still crying.

"To calm you, my dear. To make you more comfortable
during this.punishment period. The medicine will
ease your transition, believe me. Now I must go, my
dear, or I'll be late for work. Katrina's working,
so you're here alone. Clean yourself up, then clean
the room. Wash the sheets and towels at the
laundrymat - it's just up Marsh Lane about two
blocks. And get some rest. Josie says you'll have
to go to work soon, maybe this week."  Then Jan -
my angel, my savior - leaned over and kissed my
parched lips, paused to stare incredulously at the
photographs hanging on the wall, then left.

   Part 50
    --------

All the employees had gathered into the conference
room, except Eduardo, who was out of town.

"Tomorrow, Thomas will be back at work," Josie said
to her two dozen coworkers, "only he is no longer
Thomas. Thomas is now Patricia. Patricia will dress
and act as a female. And please, all of you, treat
Patricia just as you would any other woman."

Sheri, a young clerk, spoke up after some moments
of confused silence. "But Josie, isn't Thomas
married? How can he just, you know, change into one
of us?"

"Patricia's wife, Jan, is OK with it," Josie
replied. "But Sheri, we must not pry into their
life and their issues. Patricia and Jan are working
through this as best they can." The females in the
room appeared very interested, their eyes wide
opened, while the males, to a man, appeared
embarrassed by the discussion. Most stared at the
floor.

"Issue? An issue is something like having a
boyfriend with wandering eyes," Emily interjected.
"Or a girl eating a pint of chocolate ice cream
before bed. But a husband dressing as a woman -
well, that's one heck of an issue! My god! So,
where is our  "Patricia" gonna pee? With the guys
or with us girls?"

"With the rest of us ladies, of course," Josie
replied. "As I said, we must all treat her as a
typical woman. C'mon everyone, let's all try to
make Patricia feel comfortable here. OK?"

After a pause everyone murmured agreement, mostly
without enthusiasm. Although Josie was merely a
very young intern, everyone in the office knew that
she was Carlos' niece and as such her meek request
was in fact an order of highest magnitude.

Part 51
 --------

After exiting my car I smoothed my pale-green skirt
and began walking towards the office building. It
was located several miles north of downtown Dallas,
with my employer occupying the 5th floor of the six
story building. I had nervously checked my makeup
before leaving the car and determined it was all OK
except for my red lipstick, which I touched up
using the rear-view mirror.  Customers seated in
the patio of the Starbucks coffee shop across the
street didn't seem to notice anything odd about the
"woman" entering the building.

I felt that I looked OK as a woman, for which I was
actually thankful to Katrina. She had waken early
in order to assist me. After my shower Katrina,
wearing only a pink bra and matching bikini
panties, carefully inspected my entire body, using
a razor to smooth any areas I had missed. ("Oh,
what cute little buns you have, Patricia," she
joked when, having forced me to bend forward to
touch my toes, she removed male-hairs from my ass.)

Katrina also selected my outfit, choosing a modest
working-girl attire. "Wearing this, you'll fit in
well with the younger girls at the office, the
secretaries and such. Yes, Patricia, that's what
you must do now: be a girl, 100% girl," she said as
she clasped my bra onto me. "Just remember: use the
little girl's room. Should you enter the mens room
looking like this, you'll likely be raped!"

My heels clicked loudly against the concrete. Yes,
today I felt an odd sense of affection for Katrina,
even an attraction to her.  But why? She had
tortured me, after all. But no, I couldn't deny it,
my feelings for her. Maybe being so close to her,
to her feminine beauty, had captured my male heart.
Or perhaps, suffering from the Stockholm Syndrome,
I'd fallen in love with my captor? I don't know.

As I left for work she had given me a final
inspection, then said, "My, Patricia, you do look
great!", after which she kissed my lips. Although
it was a mere peck, it sent a shiver through me.
"Thank you, Mistress," I responded (Katrina now
required me to address her as Mistress, saying it
more accurately captured the essence of our
relationship.)

My face flushed and hands trembling, I entered the
office. Sheri was sitting at the front desk reading
People magazine. Sheri was a young girl, barely out
of high school, with sandy hair and a great figure.
Before today I had noticed her mainly because of
her penchant for wearing short skirts and low-cut
blouses. A clerk, she usually sat in for Emily, the
receptionist, when Emily was absent or on break.

Sheri stared at me for a couple of moments before
recognizing me, then said matter-of-factly, "Oh,
good morning, Patricia. How are you today?"

"Ahh., I'm OK, I suppose.," I replied, surprised
that Sheri knew my female name and that she was so
nonchalant about my new appearance.

"My, Patricia, that's a pretty skirt," Sheri added,
then returned to reading her magazine.

I swiftly walked to my cubicle and sat down,
trembling yet grateful that the cubicle's dividers
were high enough to hide me from others' eyes. I
noticed that someone - Josie,  I presumed - had set
a bouquet of roses upon my desk.

Part 52
 --------

"Lunchtime, Patricia; grab your purse and join us!"

I looked up to see Josie, Sheri, and Emily standing
at the entrance to my cubicle. Like Josie and
Sheri, Emily was also young. A latina with dark
skin and eyes and long, jet black hair, she wore a
blue denim jumper. The attribute which made Emily
more than simply pretty, but in fact very alluring,
was how her full red lips cured up at the tips ever
so slightly.

"Josie! Hi.," I replied, surprised.  "Ahh., I've a
lot of work to catch up on. I better skip lunch
today," I replied meekly. The three young ladies
stared down at me; nervously I crossed my legs in
feminine fashion, as my skirt was too short to
cover my knees or much of my thighs.

"No way, girl," Josie said, "you need a break! Now
come along." Having no apparent choice in the
matter, I slung my purse strap over my shoulder and
followed the girls. All eyes were on me as we
negotiated our way through the office to reach the
elevator.

Part 53
 --------

We sat at a table in the fast food restaurant.
Josie and I had ordered salads with water, while
Sheri and Emily ate hamburgers, fries and drank
soda. Despite Josie's repeated attempts to draw me
into the girls' conversation, I remained quiet. The
subject of their discussion eventually veered to my
"first day at work".

"Did you know, Patricia," Emily said with a cute
giggle, "this morning Paco asked me about you."

"How's that," Josie asked.

"Well, Paco happened to see Patricia walking into
the ladies room this morning. He asked me who the
"hot new chick" was."

"Hot new chick," Sheri said. "Wow, Patricia, Paco's
got your number, girl!"

"Please.," I said, blushing.

"What else did he say," Josie asked.

"Oh, he commented on Patricia's legs. He said he
really likes tall, thin anglo girls. Well, at that
I slapped him," Emily said with a laugh, then
turned to me and added, "But I didn't mention to
him that you used to be., ahh., Thomas."

"So," Josie asked me, "are you interested?"

"No, Josie! Of course not. Gosh, you know I'm
married."

"Well," Josie continued thoughtfully, "I do know
that Thomas is married. But I don't know about
Patricia."

"You know," Emily continued, "Paco's had a hard
time of it lately. His wife just up and left him a
couple of months ago. Moved to Venezuela with some
guy. And since she wasn't here legally, it may be
really difficult for her to get back into the
country, if she even wanted to. But from what I
hear, she doesn't want anything to do with America,
or Paco, or even her daughter."

"What made her leave?" asked Josie.

"Who knows? Amor, I suppose. Anyway, Paco must now
care for his young daughter all by himself, as he
has no close family here. She's only three years
old, a really cute girl. Paco tries -he does - but,
well, he's a male. We all know that men can't be
mothers." Emily laughed again. With her giggles,
and the most enchanting curve of her lips, she was
very alluring.

"I don't know about that," said Josie. "Look at
Patricia." She reached over and gently touched my
arm.

"So true," Sheri added. "What do you think,
Patricia? Could you be a good mother?"

I stared down at my half-eaten salad as I replied.
"No, probably not. As you can tell, I'm no good at
being a woman. I can't walk like you all do, nor
talk like you do, nothing.., it's all really
difficult."

"Not true," Josie responded. "You are very
feminine, Patricia. Moreso each day. Before long,
you'll be as sexy as I am."

"No, Josie, no." I said softly.

"Yes, Patricia, yes!" the three young women chimed
in unison.

I blushed uneasily. The conversation then shifted
to Emily and her boyfriend, Jason. They had split
up after a recent argument but last night got
together again. I listened to their discussion as I
finished eating, but finally asked the question
which, to my male brain at least, seemed obvious.

"Emily, you say Jason ignores you, drinks too much,
and generally treats you badly. Yet you are so
beautiful! Why? I mean, why did you let him into
your apartment last night? Why did you take him
back?"

The girls looked at me with surprise, as if I'd
just asked why the sun rises each morning. As if I
just didn't understand what, to them, was perfectly
obvious.

Emily collected her thoughts; a brief smile touched
her red lips and, before responding, she gently
brushed a strand of her soft black hair from her
forehead. "Patricia, you just don't understand, do
you? Jason is., well., he is my man. My man! Of
course I'll take him back. I'm a woman, after all.
A real woman, she expects her man to treat her
badly. A real man always treats his girl badly.

"My man, he., well., he makes me whole. He
completes me. Without my man, yes, I would still be
beautiful - God made me beautiful, that's true, and
each day I thank the Virgin in my prayers - but I
would be beautiful like a porcelain figurine is
beautiful. Beautiful, but not alive. Just a pretty
object."

"But Emily," I countered, "why don't you find a man
who treats you nice all of the time, not just when
he wants to get into your pants?"

"You mean a man like you used to be when you were
Thomas?" Emily's face was serious, her voice
measured. "I don't mean to hurt you, Patricia, but
- I don't know, maybe it's just the Mexican
culture, I don't know - but Patricia, I wouldn't
want a man who's always nice to me. Females are
nice, not males. Nice men are not, well, they're
just not macho. A good man - like you - would fit
nicely into my panties, into my bra. Maybe not
literally, but you know what I mean, don't you? A
nice man is just too feminine. It's OK for you to
be feminine, Patricia; I like you in that cute
blouse. But, Patricia, your prick - any nice man's
prick - just would not feel right penetrating me.
It wouldn't., well, it just wouldn't fit. It would
feel like lesbian sex.. Tu comprendas?"

"Emily's right," Josie said. "Maybe with Jan it was
different; Jan's not chicana. But then, if you were
less nice., if Thomas were a bit mean, that is,
well., you probably wouldn't be Patricia today.
You'd still be Thomas. And Jan would still be your
real wife; she'd lie in your bed at night, happy to
be next to you."

After a long silence, I asked Emily in a hushed
tone, "So, tell me, before., before I., changed.,
what did you think of Thomas? Was he a man?  To
your eyes, Emily, was Thomas a real man?"

"Patricia., please don't take this wrong, OK? But
no, I didn't ever think that Thomas was a man. I
mean, he wasn't much of a man. Not a real man.
Thomas was much too nice. Too feminine. Thomas was
never a guy I'd have called sexy. Surely not
macho."

"Oh., I didn't know.," I stammered, dumbfounded.

"It's OK, Patricia. It is! Don't get all sad eyed
on us now. You asked me to be honest with you, so I
was. Look., maybe not all males are meant to be
men. God has His ways; it's not for us to
understand. You are Patricia now, and you make a
good looking girl. You should be grateful."

"Yes., I suppose so," I said with an air of
sadness. Wanting to relieve myself and eager to
change the subject, I said, "Say, I should use the
ladies room before we go back to work. Would one of
you join me? I'm still a bit frightened of going in
alone."

"Afraid of the ladies room. What a woos!" Josie
exclaimed as she grasped my hand. The girls laughed
as the four of us went together into the ladies
room to freshen up.

   Part 54
    --------

Several weeks had passed since I last wore a stitch
of male clothing, so I should have been used to it
by now. The automatic acceptance of the new girl -
me - at the office made it easier to fall into a
feminine mode. Plus, the injections which Jan
continued to administer somehow calmed me, somehow
made this transition less cataclysmic. I asked Jan
what the medicine was, but she was ever evasive.

Nonetheless, I was trembling as Katrina pulled into
the parking space and turned the engine off.

"But Mistress Katrina, why do I have to go here?
Please, Mistress, let me wait in the car."

"Patricia, dear, I'm definitely not getting
married. I just got rid of my last husband, the
loser!"

"But I'm not getting married either," I blurted.

"Of course not, little girl, you already are
married, aren't you?"

"Yes, you know I am, mistress!"

For weeks now, Katrina had been treating me like a
child slave. When at the office, Josie, Sheri,
Emily and everyone else treated me as a responsible
woman, or at least as an odd young lady, but once I
returned "home" at day's end, all that changed.
Immediately upon entering Katrina's apartment I
became a feminized male slave. Understandably, I
began working longer hours and tended to stay late
at the office.

Of course, I always submitted to Katrina's demands,
no matter how humiliating. What else could I do?
Over time I became less uncomfortable posing as a
woman, as it was only when in that role I was
"normal". In my other role, as Katrina's she-male
plaything, I was anything but normal.

"Hi, Katie, how are you?" the clerk asked after we
had entered the bridal shop. She and Katie hugged.

"Oh, I'm just fine, Amy! I was so hoping that you'd
be working today!"

I stood about five feet away from the two young
women, apprehensively awaiting whatever it was that
Katrina was planning now. It had been more than a
month since my transformation. If Josie kept her
promise and convinced Carlos to drop my punishment,
I would have only a month or two more before I
again became Thomas. I'd again be a man, a real
100% man, and I'd take my wife away from Dallas,
far away! That, at least, was my plan.

The bridal store was huge. Filling it were many
mannequins dressed in beautiful white bridal
dresses, and other mannequins dressed in colorful
prom and bridesmaid dresses. Sections of the store
were set aside for accessories galore, including
purses, shoes, veils, gloves, etc.  Bouquets of
flowers adorned the store, a store clearly meant
only for females.

Amy appeared to be somewhat older than Katrina;
nicely dressed in a blue skirt and lavender blouse,
she carried herself well. Her every movement
conveyed femininity, which was likely a requirement
for working here. No dykes allowed, obviously.
Amy's dark brown hair framed her roundish face. Her
eyes were hazel.  Following a bit of small talk,
Kristina turned to me.

"Amy, this is Patricia. I've been asked by a friend
to help Patricia find her most female self. And
since all young women fantasize about wearing the
perfect gown on their wedding day, I was thinking
that maybe you could help Patricia experience, in a
way, the wedding she hasn't experienced, not yet at
least."

Amy looked confused and shook her head slightly to
indicate that she didn't understand what Katrina
was trying to say.

"It's like this, Amy," Katrina continued, "Patricia
is a she-male. You know, a guy that wants to be
pretty - like we are!"

"Oh., I see., Patricia's not a woman," Amy said,
staring at me. I blushed. "Patricia is a man who
wants to wear a wedding dress. Is that it?"

Katrina smiled. "Well, Patricia's a male, but I
don't know if I'd call her a man! But yes, Amy,
Patricia very much desires to wear a beautiful
wedding dress, isn't that right, young lady?"
Katrina gave me a stern look.

"Ah., yes., sure..," I replied as Amy watched me
closely.

"You do understand, Patricia, no returns are
allowed. And you must pay in advance. Absolutely no
refunds are allowed to any women. Or men."

"Yes," I replied, "I understand, ma'am. It will be
my dress., to keep."

"How sweet!" chimed Katrina, "Patricia will own her
very own wedding gown!"

"So," Amy asked, "are you planning to get married?
Is a wedding in your plans?"

"No.," I began to reply before Katrina interrupted.

"We're working on that, Amy! So let's get busy!"

Part 55
--------

Seated at a makeup table, I numbly gazed upon my
reflection in the large mirror: upon my face,
perfectly made, heavy with mascara and eyeliner;
upon my lips, ruby-red; upon the gold earrings,
inlaid with diamonds, dangling from my pierced
ears. The girl in the mirror - me! - wore only a
lacy white bra with matching padded panties. I
could also see Josie's reflection as she carefully
touched up my blusher. Josie cheerfully chatted on
and on but I was simply too numb, too stunned, to
comprehend her words.

Instead my mind recalled Eduardo's statement to me
(was it just two months ago, or was it an
eternity?): "God gave me a prick - he expects me to
use it. I gave you a gun - you didn't use it."

Yes, I failed Eduardo and Jim. Rather than confront
peril, I fled. And now, what price I must pay!  And
I failed God, too, for God had given me manhood,
yet I chose to hide in the ladies room.

"Oh, Patricia, you're simply beautiful! How I envy
you on this, your most special day. Come now, young
lady, stand up!"

I stood as Josie helped me into a lacy white slip.
It was unusually long, its hem falling to the
middle of my calves.

"I see not a speck of underarm hair. Good job,
Patricia!"

I heard the door open. In the mirror I watched Jan
enter the room. She was stunning, every bit as
beautiful as the day we married. She wore a rose
colored gown, sleeveless to show her slender arms.
The dress reached to within a couple of inches of
the floor, although her open toed high heels were
clearly visible. I felt cold, almost sick, as my
wife approached. Because I was shoeless and Jan
wore heels, she stood taller than me.

"Hello, Patricia. Are you OK, honey? You're
trembling."  Jan sounded unusually compassionate.

"No, Jan., no., I'm not up to this., not at all., I
just can't."

"Enough!! We've already discussed this. It's a done
deal, Patricia. It's best for you and for me. It's
best for us." She gently kissed my cheek.  "Come
now, smile! This is a very big day for you."

Together, Josie and Jan helped me into my dress. It
was pure white, virginal white. Its bodice clung
tightly to my artificial breasts, and it cinched my
waist so tight that I could breath only shallowly.
A layer of chiffon lace covered layers of a silky
taffeta material which caused the skirt to billow
out some inches. The hem of the dress was at my
ankles. I held my breath and sucked in my stomach
while Josie, standing behind me, raised the dress'
lengthy zipper. Jan stepped back and stared
silently at me, a look of approval upon her face, a
look almost of conquest. What my dear wife thought
at this moment, I couldn't begin to guess.

"Stunning! Simply stunning," exclaimed Josie. "Now
sit down, Patricia. Carefully! Don't wrinkle your
wedding gown! Jan, could you help Patricia into her
shoes while I find her veil?"

"Sure thing, Josie," said Jan cheerfully as Josie
left the room, leaving me alone with my wife.
Feeling extremely awkward - and scared - I felt
tears slowly trace a path down my cheeks. It had
been a month since Katrina had selected my dress
and accessories, with Amy's assistance, a month in
which matters had moved a breakneck speed towards
today, my ultimate humiliation.

"Very pretty shoes, Patricia," Jan said as she
strapped my left foot into a shoe. My wedding shoes
were, of course, white, and had open toes with
heels an inch and a half high. "You know, when we
married, my gown wasn't as pretty as yours is
today. I'm a tad jealous."

"Oh, Jan, this is all so., just so surreal. It's
like a dream, a nightmare. If only there were some
other way, some other way out of this mess I've
gotten us into."  My tears continued to flow.

"Well there's not," she replied. "Just go through
with it, will you? And stop crying, for God's sake!
Smile, even if you don't feel like it."

"Well, I don't feel like it."

"Get up now and practice walking. That'll help
clear the butterflies from your stomach."

"Jan," I said softly as I walked back and forth in
front of my wife, taking small dainty steps, "what
about tonight? What if., well., what if he.., you
know."

"Quit worrying," Jan said curtly. "Nothing will
happen, except you'll at last be free of Katrina."

"Yes, that is definitely a silver lining," I said,
smiling.

"See, girl," Jan laughed, "now you're looking good!
Just hold that smile!"

Part 56
--------

The chapel was a non-denominational rental place
with adjacent ballroom. There were about 15 rows of
benches, with an aisle running down the middle.
Most benches were empty; other than the wedding
party there were only about 40 guests, mostly
people Paco and I worked with, together with their
spouses and in a few instances their children, plus
a few of Jan's friends.

My heart was pounding! Never in my life had I felt
so terrified. The recorded music began to play the
strains of "here come the bride". On cue, Jan
gently grasped my hand and together we began
walking, very slowly, down the aisle towards the
front of the chapel. Everyone in the church stood
and nearly all turned towards me; they saw what
appeared to be a somewhat tall young woman,
slender, wearing a full, very beautiful wedding
gown  -white and lace everywhere! - escorted down
the aisle by another beautiful young woman dressed
nicely in a rose-colored bridesmaid dress.

With Jan setting a slow pace, I carefully placed
one foot in front of the other. No longer did I
wobble when walking in high heels: Katrina, who had
forced me to wear heels even to the laundrymat,
cured me of that. No, I walked slowly, surely, even
proudly. I would not cower in shame - No! Jan
deserved better. I held my head high, although I
was grateful that the veil somewhat hid my face
from the curious crowd.

Before leaving the dressing room I had studied my
reflection in the full length mirror. My dress was
beautiful. It showed off nicely my feminine figure
- achieved largely via silicone breasts and padded
panties.

Jan and I approached the front of the chapel - all
eyes on us. Occasional camera flashes lit my dress
brightest white. I consciously tried to feel my
prick, if only to assure myself that yes, it did
exist, and yes, I was a man. A man! But alas, I
could feel nothing between my legs, nothing at all.
Whatever manhood I possessed was wholly numb.

Upon reaching the front, Jan leaned towards me and
whispered into my ear, "You can do this, my
dearest. You are a girl now, for today. Just
remember that and you'll be fine." Jan then lifted
my veil, very gently kissed my cheek, then let
loose of my hand and stepped aside several feet to
take her rightful place as my bridesmaid, standing
next to Josie. Katrina was to Josie's right. The
three, Jan, Josie and Katrina, all beautifully
dressed in matching gowns, were truly visions of
feminine beauty.

I stood alone, dazed by what was happening: I,
Thomas Johanson, born male, raised male, never
questioning my sex - and why would I? Does one
question his parents, his eye color, his skin
color? Of course not. Things just are! But not so
with sex, at least not so for me, Thomas Johanson,
and my God-given sex.

"And do you, Patricia.." Those words, addressed to
me, snapped me back to "reality", my reality. "take
this man, Paco, as your husband, to cherish and to
serve, from now until death do you part?"

I hesitated briefly and then, looking deeply into
the preacher's eyes, replied softly, in barely a
whisper, "I do". The preacher smiled. He was an
old, gray haired man, unshaven for a day or two,
and wore a black suit and cleric's collar, although
he wasn't really a minister. He just owned the
little chapel and adjacent ballroom and made a
decent living from weddings and funerals.

"Very well, then," he continued, "Paco and
Patricia, I now pronounce you man., and wife.
Paco, you may kiss your bride."

I turned to my left, towards Paco. He wore a
tuxedo. We stood about the same height although,
had I not worn heels, he'd have been taller. Paco
weighed about 160 pounds, compared to my 123 pounds
at last measure. He had a huge grin on his face,
which was clear of blemishes and, for a Mexican,
quite light-skinned. Paco lifted the veil covering
my face, leaned towards me, and kissed me fully on
my lips.

Other than that one night with Leti, I had never
kissed a man. Never really thought of it, surely
never fantasized about it. Never. And Leti, to my
mind at least, didn't count as a male, as she was
more female than male. But here I was, standing
before a gathering of friends and acquaintances -
standing beside my wife! - kissing a man in the
most public manner possible.

I did not resist. In fact, I returned his
affections; I kissed his lips! What else could I
do? What?


Part 57
--------

"Jan, I've been to quite a few weddings, including
yours, but this is, well, definitely the oddest of
the bunch," Sandy said. She sat at a table with Jan
and Katrina; each had a small plate of finger foods
and a glass of white wine. Sandy wore a beige
dress, conservatively styled with half sleeves.

"Weird is more like it. Really weird. Who'd have
imagined I'd ever give my husband away in marriage
- as a bride! I tell you, I'm still stunned." Jan
picked at her food as she spoke, not willing to
look anyone in the eyes, fearful of breaking down
into tears.

"But it went well, the ceremony," said Katrina.
"Patricia looked fetching up there, a beautiful
girl. And when Paco kissed her, well girls, I
nearly cried."

"Yes, Katie, you did a great job of transforming my
husband into a pretty bride," Jan said with more
than a trace of sarcasm.

"But Jan, I did it for you!" Katrina protested.

"I know, Katrina, I know. I'm not bitter. You know,
in a way I feel rather proud, like a mother feels
at her daughter's wedding."

"So, Jan, what happens now? Will Thomas continue on
as a., wife., to that man?" Sandy's voice hinted at
her confusion.

"Paco. Patricia's husband's name is Paco," Katrina
said curtly.

Jan drained the wine from her glass, then replied.
"Beats me! I no longer know up from down!"

"Well," Sandy asked, "are you still his., I mean,
Patricia's., wife?"

Jan laughed bitterly. "No, I really don't think so,
Sandy. It's over between us. Patricia just doesn't
know it yet. I figure she's had enough shocks for
now. I'll give her some time to adjust, then I'll
file the divorce papers."

"Really? So there's no chance of putting all this
behind you once Patricia becomes Thomas again?"
Although Sandy tried to sound surprised, her voice
betrayed her.

"Absolutely no chance. None. Look at her," Jan
said, glancing towards the front of the room where
Patricia nervously cut the wedding cake as Paco,
standing at her side, chatted with Emily. "Do you
really think I'd ever be with., that? Come on,
Sandy! I need a man, a real man. Now that Paco
guy," Jan continued with a laugh, "maybe he and I
could be a number!"

"Gosh, Jan, this is all so twisted, isn't it?"

"You said it, girl!" Jan laughed as she refilled
her wine glass. "But heck, let's have a good time.
I'm happy for., her. And I'm also happy that I'll
be free and single again, soon. Very soon."

"And I'm happy, too," Katrina added with a grin,
"since after today I will no longer have to train
your ex in the fine arts of womanhood. I know,
Thomas wasn't very masculine, and he did have a
small cock - really small - but still, it took a
lot of effort from me to change your ex from a male
into that pretty bride."  Katrina, a look of pride
upon her face, pointed her finger towards Patricia,
who was still passing out wedding cake to guests.
Katrina then took a tube of red lipstick from her
small clutch purse and, using a silver butter knife
as a mirror, applied a fresh coat of bright red
color to her full, feminine lips.


Part 58
--------

"So, Josie, tell me again? These two aren't gay,
yet they are marrying each other? I do say, your
office is one flaky bunch!" Sharon's husband said
with a laugh.  Sharon handled rental properties at
Patricia's office.

"Yes, Bob, and don't be such a dweeb!" Josie said
with a smile; she was clearly enjoying the day.

"I know Paco," Sharon added, "and I sure don't
think he's gay. He's always flirting with anything
in skirts."

"Yea., anything in skirts," Bob said with another
laugh, pointing at Patricia's flouncy wedding
dress, before taking another drink of his beer.

"But I don't know about the bride," Sharon
continued. "My gosh, but he really looks good in
that dress. Much too pretty for a real guy."

"You know the old saying, "Every bride is
beautiful." I don't think they had a chick like
that in mind when the saying was coined, but she -
or he - is mighty cute when all decked out like
that."

Sharon slapped Bob, and not  playfully. "Don't you
talk like that!" she said.

"Hey, Sharon," Josie interjected with her beaming
smile, "you better keep an eye on that hubby of
yours!"

Part 59
--------

"Congratulations, Patricia," said Emily, who wore a
tight, low-cut black dress and very high heels.
"I'm very impressed. You do look so nice!"

"Thank you, Emily. But I'm afraid I look a mess. I
had to cut and serve the cake, and then I had to
dance with nearly a dozen guys. It's been hard.,
I'm sure it shows."

"Most girls love to dance, Patricia."

"Yea, most girls do," I replied with a wry smile.

"C'mon, let's go to the ladies room," Emily said.
"I'll help you freshen up. I can make you real
pretty!"

Together we walked through the ballroom, the ladies
room being in the back. There were still a couple
of dozen guest scattered around the room, drinking
and talking. A Frank Sinatra song, with lyrics of
"just the way you look tonight" was playing. Emily
held open the ladies room door, allowing me, the
bride, to enter first. The vacant restroom was well
lit and had with several full length mirrors. The
walls were pink.

"I need to pee, Emily, but with this gown on, well,
it's a big problem."

"It always is for us girls, isn't it?  Those lucky
guys, they just take it out, point and pee, just
about anywhere they want. Not so us, right,
Patricia?" A grin crossed Emily's face.

"No, Emily," I said, blushing. "It's not so easy
for "us" girls."

"Now, Patricia, let me help you a bit. Hold up your
skirt."

I did as Emily suggested, grasping the hem of my
dress and holding it up at breast level. Emily then
grasped my pantyhose at my waist and carefully
lowed them to knee level. Then, while kneeling down
in front of me, Emily grasped the waist of my
padded panties and with difficulty (because they
fit so snugly) lowered them, also to knee level.

I was, of course, embarrassed by all of this, but
also very grateful, as I really needed to relieve
myself.

"My gosh, Patricia," Emily exclaimed as I lowered
myself onto the toilet, "that is the absolutely
smallest cock I've ever seen!"

Of course it was, I thought to myself, as it had
been squeezed to near oblivion by layers of
lingerie I wore.

"Oh, so you've seen a lot of cocks," I said with a
nervous laugh, hoping a little joke would maybe
change the subject.

"A few, Patricia. Just a few. All special guys, you
know. But really, they all had long, fat cocks,
scary looking in a way. Pure unleashed manhood,
each of them! But yours is not at all like that.
Not threatening at all. Kinda cute, in fact, like
the kind of penis us girls see when we change
babies' diapers. It's just so tiny!"

"Emily, please! Don't make fun of me."

"Sorry!  Don't be so sensitive, girl." Emily leaned
forward and kissed the tip of my flaccid cock,
leaving a smudge of her red lipstick on it. "There,
does that make it better?  But come on now: back
yourself into the stall and do it."

"Like a girl?"

"Yes, silly, like a girl! What a dumb question!"

Carefully I backed into the stall and sat. Emily
continued chatting as my bladder emptied itself and
a corresponding feeling of pleasure spread through
me.

Part 60
--------

 The wedding cake had been eaten and the champagne
bottles drained. Most of the guests had left. My
wedding dress was becoming ever more uncomfortable;
not only did it squeeze my waist, but the flowing
skirts made it very difficult to maneuver. Plus, my
feet hurt from all the dancing in high heels. I
wanted to leave, but had nowhere to go.

Paco, my "husband", sat in the back corner of the
ballroom with several friends, drinking and
ignoring me, his new "wife".  They had turned on a
small television and were intently watching a
football game. Feeling very lost and alone, I
quietly took a seat at Jan's table. She was
drinking with Katrina, Sandy, Emily, and a couple
of young women whom I didn't know.  Jan glanced at
me as I sat, and a momentary look of disgust
crossed her face and pierced my stomach like a
sharp sword.

"So, did you sleep with him?" Katrina asked a young
blond whom I didn't recognize.

"No, I couldn't," she replied. "I'm on my period.
Seems I always bleed at the wrong times!"

"Don't we all have that problem," Katrina said with
a laugh. I noticed Jan glance at me and frown.

"He was really coming on to me, like a lion, he
was. Hands all over me! I could see his erection
pushing hard against his pants, straining to get
out of his jeans and get into me. Oh well, maybe
next time I'll show my treasure to the beast," the
blond said with a little giggle. Her soft breasts
were partly visible as her blouse was unbuttoned at
the top.

"I like aggressive guys like that," Katrina said.

"Me, too," added Sandy. "But now that we are
married, my husband never comes on to me like an
animal. He used to, but no more."

"That's the down side of marriage. Husbands get
passive - like girls. Isn't that right, Patricia?"

I looked down, averting Jan's hard gaze. "I suppose
so," I replied, my face blushing.

"Well, it's surely not like that on a girl's
wedding night," said the blond. She looked at me
with a sexy grin. "You better be prepared, honey. I
know Paco. He's horny, horny, horny!" The blond was
very petite, with porcelain white skin. I wondered
if she and my "husband" had ever made love.

"Well, don't let Paco tear that dress off of you,
Patricia," said Katrina. "It's very expensive, you
know. You should change into your sexy pink nightie
as soon as you two get home."

I blushed again; with a wavering voice I replied,
"No. No, we won't be doing anything like that. No
sex."

"Yea, sure.," the blond said, "that's what you
think. Paco's testosterone will not be ignored,
believe me!"

"Shush now," Katrina said. "You're frightening our
cute virgin bride." The girls all laughed.

"I'll never forget my wedding night," Katrina said.
"My husband was so horny that night! And it's not
like I was a virgin, not hardly! We'd had sex a
zillion times before we tied the knot. Yet he kept
me up till dawn, he did. I've never had so many
orgasms in one night - not even close. I remember
looking down at him the next morning, after he had
fallen asleep on our bed. The early morning
sunlight shining through our small bedroom window
illuminated him like he was a famous statue in some
museum. He lay there: naked, muscular, hairy, still
sweaty, with his fully satisfied cock lying there
in full view. And I realized that I had satisfied
him. Me, only me: my female body, my pussy! I don't
know whether I've ever felt so., so very female. Do
you know what I mean?"

There was a few moments of silence. The subject of
this conversation deeply embarrassed me. I wished I
hadn't sat at the table. I was thinking of leaving
(but to where?) when Jan began speaking.

"My big night wasn't quite like that," she said in
a measured tone, her gaze passing between Katrina
and I. "Thomas had a bit too much to drink at the
reception. Once we got home, he fell asleep - still
wearing his tuxedo."

"Jan please!" I begged. "Don't!"

"Patricia," Emily said with a smile, "guys talk
about the sex they want to have, but girls talk
about the sex they've had., or in this case, didn't
have. It's just one more thing you'll have to get
used to now that you're one of us."

"Paco's got another thing that you'll have to get
used to," said the petite blond, now clearly tipsy.

"Well, Patricia, it's true," Jan continued sternly.
"You didn't make love to me on our wedding night.
And that hurt me, it really hurt."

"But Jan, you never said anything. Why didn't you
wake me up and ask me?"

"Because, dummy, you were the male, then. You were
supposed to come on to me!"

"I'm sorry, Jan. But please, let's not discuss it
here. Please?" I looked into here eyes, and could
see tears forming.

"You're right, Patricia," Jan said in an angry,
mocking tone of voice. "It's no one's business. The
fact that I had to use a vibrator on my wedding
night, that's surely no one's business! But
tonight, Patricia, you'll get another opportunity
to have a glorious, magical wedding night! Oh, so
wonderful! Well, may your night as a bride be like
Katrina's, and not like mine. I'm sure you'll
satisfy your man, and he'll satisfy you, his pretty
bride."

An uneasy silence descended about the table. Deeply
blushing, I looked down at the tablecloth, all
white and lace, much like the bridal dress I wore.

"Jan, some of us girls are headed to the Astral
Club for awhile," Emily said, breaking the tension.
"Care to join us?"

"Sure," replied Jan. All the young women rose and
took their purses, while Emily went to find her
heels, which she'd removed while dancing. One by
one they approached me, congratulated me, wished me
the best. Still shaken and shamed by Jan's
comments, I trembled as I thanked each for coming.
Last to approach was Jan. The corsage had fallen
from her bosom and her hair was mussed, yet,
standing in her heels, wearing her beautiful
bridesmaid dress, she looked stunningly beautiful.
I could not believe that I was, it seemed, losing
her; I could not believe that fate had cruelly
forced me to become a man's wife!"

"Be happy, will you?" Jan said, sounding
apologetic.

"But Jan, I can't leave here with that man."

You must leave with him. Paco is your husband. It's
done."

"Please Jan," I begged.

"Say it. Say `I am Paco's wife'." Jan stared at me.
"Say it, Patricia. It's important!"

I swallowed hard, then uttered softly, "I am Paco's
wife."

"Yes, Patricia: for now you are Paco's wife. We
must do this. For our future, yours and mine!"

"But what if..." I said, before Jan cut me off.

"Hush! You are Patricia. You are a woman. You are
Paco's wife. Women deal with men and with their
urges. We do it all the time. A woman figures out a
way to satisfy her man. You will too!"

Jan then leaned over and kissed me on the lips.
"Goodbye, Patricia," she said, then  took her purse
and turned away, towards the door where Katrina
stood waiting. She did not look back.

   Part 61
   --------

I stared down at my legs: the laser and my shaving
had made them smooth and sexy. The pantyhose I wore
-Leggs, suntan shade - made them even more so. My
eyes then focused upon my toenails, which were
painted bright red and visible through my open-toed
navy blue high heels. I was too embarrassed to look
Margaret in the eye.

Margaret was the office manager, in which capacity
she handled many personnel functions and made
certain that procedures were in place and were
followed so as to maintain harmony. She was about
35, married with three teenaged children. As
always, Margaret wore an expensive, tailored
business suit, its skirt extending to mid-calf
level.

She sat behind her desk; Emily and I had taken
seats in front of it. Emily wore a short navy skirt
and tight yellow blouse which contrasted sharply
with her long, luxurious jet-black hair. I wore a
pale yellow dress with black pinstripe background
and large black buttons. I felt the dress was far
too short - its hem extending only to mid-thigh
level - but as I was running late this morning I
hadn't had time to choose a perfect outfit.

"As you know, Patricia, Emily has been taking night
classes in accounting. She should get her degree in
another year or less. Isn't that right, Emily?"

"Yes, ma'am," Emily replied.

"We are all very proud of you, Emily, and we want
to show you how confident we are of your
abilities."

"Thank you, Margaret," Emily said in a tone of
uncertainty. Neither Emily nor I knew why Margaret
had summoned us to her office this Wednesday
morning.

"To that end, Emily, here is what I'm proposing,"
continued Margaret. "I'd like you and Patricia to
exchange positions. You will become our in-house
accountant. It will require some travel, but since
you're single the travel shouldn't pose much of a
problem. And Patricia, you will be assuming Emily's
position."

"What!" I blurted out in shock. "You want me to be
a., a receptionist?"

"No, Patricia. Emily's not just a receptionist.
She's also a secretary, a file clerk, a maid: an
all-round girl-Friday!"

I glanced towards Emily; she was smiling, almost
giddy.

"Oh, thank you, Margaret!" Emily gushed. "I'll do a
great job! You'll see!"

"Yes, Emily," Margaret said. "I am completely
confident that you will succeed. You are a most
outstanding young lady. You've done a great job as
a receptionist." Margaret then nodded towards me
and continued, "Emily, would you please train
Patricia today. Show her the basics of your job:
how to properly answer phones, greet staff and
clients, make coffee, those types of duties?"

"Sure, no problem," Emily gushed, so happy at her
unanticipated promotion. "Patricia will be a great
secretary! Won't you, Patricia?"

The color had drained from my face. I addressed
Margaret in a pleading tone of voice. "But ma'am,
please! I was hired to be the accountant here. I'm
a CPA. I shouldn't be working as a receptionist.
Please, can't we reconsider this?"

"Now, now," Margaret said in a tone of mock pity,
"don't cry, dear. I've discussed this with
management. We all agree it's best for the company.
And best for you, dear."

"Best for me., how., I don't understand.?"

"Oh, Patricia, trust me. You'll enjoy your new
position. It's a good fit for a young., ah,
mother., like you. Tell me, dear, how long has it
been since your wedding?"

I blushed; Margaret seemed eager to bring up my new
situation, even though to me it was not relevant to
my work life. "Well., it's been about a month,
ma'am., nearly two months."

"Yes. Two months as a wife and mother.  My dear
Patricia, I'm sure it's difficult being a newlywed.
Paco, he must put certain, ah., demands., upon you.
And, of course, your stepdaughter - what is her
name again?"

"Maria."

"Yes., Maria. Did you know, the three of you make
such a picture perfect family," she said, barely
trying to disguise her contempt of my new status as
mother. "Anyway, Patricia, as a new wife and a new
mother, I think it's best we not force you to
travel. And as our receptionist, you'll work only
here in Dallas. It'll be best for you."

"But please, Margaret, this will destroy my., my
career! Surely you see that?"

"Oh, Patricia," Margaret said, wagging her finger
at me as if I were a third grade schoolgirl, "a
secretarial career is just as rewarding as a CPA's
career. But hush now. It's decided, Patricia.
Effective immediately, you are the receptionist.
Your salary will be adjusted accordingly."

Emily reached over and set her hand upon mine in a
show of sympathy.

"Now just remember," Margaret continued, "as a
receptionist you are expected to look, dress, and
act the part. Absolutely no slacks! Always wear
skirts or a dress. And no business suits, either.
Emily must now begin to dress professionally, but
you, Patricia, must cease doing so. Dress
stylishly, but not professionally. Fingernails and
toenails: they must always be manicured and
painted. Always use makeup! Dress and look like a
typical young secretary. Be demure, subservient,
and always cheerful. Do you understand me, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied softly, feeling defeated.

Margaret smirked. "Good," she said. "Emily will
assist you with your transition. Now both of you,
go! Back to work! I have important matters to
attend to."

Sadly, I rose and turned to follow Emily out.

"Oh, by the way, Patricia, I really love your
dress," Margaret said as I reached the door, a hint
of sarcasm in her voice. "It's so cute!"

Part 62
--------

 By morning break Emily and I had finished moving,
she to my cubical and I, reluctantly, to the
receptionist's desk, which was set just in side the
office entrance. Emily had instructed me on how I
must greet each employee as they arrive in the
morning. "With women," Emily emphasized, "you
should welcome them with a cheerful "Good
Morning!", and then compliment them on their skirt
or shoes or hair style. Also ask them about their
kids or their husbands - you'll soon be up on the
family lives of everyone here, Patricia! But men,
they are different. You'll have to greet them in a
sexy voice, like, "Good Morning, Bob! You do look
sharp today! New tie?" Smile at them, flirt with
them, let them think that you think they are
fabulous, even if they're not.  It's their fragile
egos, you know."

"But Emily, I can't come on to the guys here!"

"Well, you must, Patricia. They'll expect it, and
if you are cool towards them then all types of
tensions will build up. And remember, when guys
enter and you are seated at this desk, they look
down at you and focus on you know what!"

"No., on what?"

"Silly girl, on your breasts! So, if you wear a
sweater, make sure it's tight enough to show off
your titties, and wear blouses made of thin
material, as guys get a real kick out of seeing the
outline of your bra beneath your blouse."

"But Emily, you know I don't have real breasts."

"True, Patricia, but that doesn't matter to men.
Look, you have a role to play, just like an
actress. You're not a level-headed CPA anymore. Now
you'll be playing the role of a cute, rather air-
headed young lady. Always giddy, always flirting! I
know, it'll feel awkward for the first few days,
but soon it'll feel natural. In fact, I suspect
that you'll quickly come to enjoy being the
resident "pretty young thing" in this office."

"I hope you're right, Emily," I said, deeply
humiliated by Emily's instructions.

Part 63
--------

It was nearly 2:00 p.m. when I returned from my
late lunch; I had driven through McDonald's and
eaten in my car, thankful to be alone for even a
few minutes.. Emily had left at noon to shop for a
new wardrobe appropriate to her new position,
leaving me to answer phones and type up a memo for
Margaret.

"Thank goodness you're back, Patricia!" Margaret
exclaimed as I entered the office, purse in hand.
Gerald is meeting clients in the conference room,
finishing up the Vector-Tel contract. Adam and
Josie are also attending the meeting. I need you to
serve coffee and cookies while I locate the Vector-
Tel file."

"But ma'am," I said, "I've worked on that contract.
Let me pull the file together."

"No, Patricia," Margaret replied with a sigh of
exasperation. "You're not an officer here, not
anymore. You're the receptionist. Now please,
hurry! And after you finish serving, you'll need to
take notes of the meeting. But remember - just take
notes! You will not participate in the
discussions!"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, trying to hide my anger. I
went to the kitchen and put cookies, plates, cups,
and a decanter of coffee onto a tray. Embarrassed
by my feminine look and my low status, I pushed the
small cart, with the tray atop it, into the
conference room.

"Excuse me for interrupting, sir," I said,
addressing Gerald, "would you care for coffee and a
cookie?"  I spoke timidly, using a soft, feminine
voice.

"Why thank you, Patricia," he replied politely.
"I'll have just coffee, black, no sugar." Gerald
was the chief executive of the company's United
States operations. Gray haired and somewhat
overweight, his surprised expression indicated that
he hadn't been informed of my demotion. After
pouring his coffee I scanned the room to see if I
had enough cups. Suddenly I froze; so surprised was
I that I nearly dropped the decanter of hot coffee.
Seated at the table with Gerald, Adam and Josie was
Jan and her supervisor, Mr. Grayson. Our eyes met;
I felt as if a shot had been fired directly into my
heart. I hadn't seen my wife since the wedding,
hadn't even spoken with her on the phone, as I was
too ashamed to do so.

Jan was smartly dressed in a dark green skirt with
matching jacket and a simple blouse of a pale
lavender tint. Her leather briefcase was at her
side and a sheath of papers was set upon the table
in front of her. She hurriedly looked away after
our eyes had locked for that brief moment, although
I noticed her face redden with embarrassment. It
was clear to me that Jan did not want me to
acknowledge her.

Albert Grayson, old enough and wealthy enough to
retire,  chose instead to continue on as the
principal partner of the law firm which Jan worked
for. He had taken Jan under his wing, so to speak,
and was grooming her to become a partner in record
time. I had casually met him on a couple of
occasions, but it was clear that he did not
recognize me in my current feminine incarnation.

"Patricia, those cookies do look delicious," Gerald
said as I offered refreshments to Adam. "But tell
me, is Emily OK? Usually she brings in the coffee."

"Yes sir, Emily is fine. It's just that she and I
have., ah., exchanged job duties, you see."

"Oh! I didn't know.," Gerald said, perplexed. "So,
you're now the receptionist and secretary?"

I noticed Jan watching me with astonishment as I
responded, "Well, yes sir, Margaret has., ah.,
transferred me to Emily's position. I'm the
receptionist now." My face flushed with
embarrassment.

"Well., congratulations to you., I suppose,
Patricia," Gerald said.

"May I offer you coffee and a cookie, ma'am," I
said to Josie, who was seated next to Adam.

"No thank you, Patricia," Josie replied, then
added, "My, that is a pretty dress you're wearing
today."

"Than you, ma'am," I replied, mindful that in my
new position I should not address by their first
name. Then I approached Jan. My voice trembled a
bit as I asked, "May I serve you any refreshments,
ma'am. Coffee, or a cookie?"

"Yes, thank you, Miss," Jan replied, "just coffee
with cream, no sugar."

My hands trembled as I poured Jan's drink; she
stared at them - my bright red nails were now quite
long, even for a girl - as I set the cup in front
of her.

After I finished serving everyone, I moved the cart
aside and took a seat in the corner, away from the
table. Unconsciously I crossed my legs in the
feminine manner and set my notepad upon my lap.
Only then did I realize that my too-short dress was
showing far too much of my thighs, and that Jan and
Mr. Grayson could not help but gaze at me and my
smoothly shaven legs. I remained silent during the
conference, taking notes, as Jan calmly and
professionally explained the details of the Vector-
Tel deal and circulated the necessary contracts for
signature.

After the meeting, while Jan arranged her papers
and filed them into her briefcase, Josie asked me
to join them for dinner.

"No, Josie, I can't," I replied. "I've got to pick
up Maria from daycare."

"No problem, Patricia, I'll have Paco pick up
Maria. C'mon, you really need to do this. It's an
order, cutie!" she said, smiling beautifully.

   Part 64
   --------

As soon as I set my empty wine glass down, Josie
refilled it. Not having had alcohol since my
"wedding", the wine tasted indescribably delicious
and had the immediate effect of easing my tension
somewhat; at last I was able to shake some of my
anger and humiliation caused by my demotion to
receptionist.

I was mostly silent as Josie and Katrina chatted.
We sat on the patio of an upscale, north Dallas
bar/restaurant. It was a cozy place with frills
everywhere, exactly the opposite from the sports
bars I had frequented before my change.

My third glass of wine was nearly empty when Jan
arrived, taking the seat opposite me. "Hi girls,"
she said cheerfully, "and Patricia, that includes
you!" She smiled at me.

"Hello, Jan," I said nervously. "How are you
doing?"

"I've been very busy at work. I've been promoted to
associate. I'll be a partner before the year ends,
if all goes well!"

"Great! Congratulations," said both Katrina and
Josie. I couldn't take my eyes off Jan, her
beautiful face, so flawless! Her full lips! God,
how I loved her, desired her.

"And Patricia," Jan continued, "you said during the
meeting that you've been promoted, too? What was
all that about, honey?"

"I didn't know that," Katrina exclaimed. "So
Patricia, you've been made Chief Financial Officer?
That's great!"

"No, Katrina," I said, staring down at my empty
wine glass, "I'm not CFO. I've been made the
receptionist."

An uneasy silence ensued, followed by Katrina's
giggles. "You've got to be kidding. A receptionist!
A CPA working as a receptionist!"

I stared dejectedly at my hands, my polished nails
reflecting the sunlight. "I wish I were kidding," I
said.

"Well Patricia, it's your own fault," Jan said
sternly. "Stand up for a minute."

I rose from my chair.

"Look at you! A yellow dress, and the hem barely
covers your panties when you sit. In fact, during
the meeting your skirt rose so high that I could
see the bottoms of your panties. Don't believe me?
They're pink, aren't they? Pink with lace!"

"Yes, Jan, they are," I replied sheepishly.

"Shame on you!  Every guy in the conference room
got an eyeful, Patricia! If you dress like a young
secretary, don't be surprised when you're treated
like one."

"Jan please," I pleaded, my eyes watering with
tears, "I don't know how women are supposed to
dress."

"You lived with me for a year, Patricia. Did you
ever see me go to the office dressed like you are?
Ever?"

"No, Jan, I suppose not," I said, then after a bit
of silence I continued. "Maybe I should move back
home Jan, home with you. You could help me through
this. I've just another month or so to go, then
Josie will get Carlos to back off on my punishment.
Please, Jan. Please?"

"No, Patricia."

"Call me Tom, Jan. My name is Tom. I'm your
husband." The alcohol was affecting me.

"I'll call you Patricia. Now sit back down, girl,"
Jan commanded. And I did so. Without thinking I
swept the skirt of my dress with my arm as I sat,
pulling it down to cover as much of my thighs as
possible. Tears rolled from the corners of my eyes.

"So tell us, Patricia, how have you been," Jan
asked.

"What do you mean, Jan?"

"How's your life? How's your home life?" Jan
elaborated.

"First, tell us, how was your wedding night," asked
Josie. "Tell us all about it!"

I blushed; unfortunately the wine had loosened my
tongue. I looked towards Jan hoping she would
change the subject.

"It's OK, honey. Tell us about it," was all Jan
said.

I sighed, then said, "It was already dark when we
left the reception. Paco has a small car; it was
very hard for me to get into it while dressed in my
bridal gown. I had to remove my shoes; Paco
graciously carried them for me. His apartment was
only a couple of miles away. We didn't really talk.
I didn't know him, and he didn't know me. In fact,
I don't believe we'd ever exchanged any words prior
to our nuptial promises."

I paused and looked into Jan's eyes, then
continued, speaking a bit louder. "I was terrified.
Completely terrified! Yes, I am a man; I know, I
should have been able to protect myself, challenge
Paco, fight him off -mano y mano - or at least
flee. But it's not easy to be a man. I mean, it's
not easy to think and act like a man while wearing
a bra, panties, and a wedding dress!" I began to
sob.

"Yes, honey," Jan said in a compassionate voice.
"I'm sure it was scary. But go on, Patricia. We're
your friends. We're not judging you." She reached
across the small table and lightly set her hand
upon mine.

"Paco and I, we didn't talk in the car. Not a word.
I was trembling through the entire trip, wishing,
just wishing, that I could return to being Thomas.
Simple, boring Thomas. I wanted to leave, Jan. I
did! But I had no money, no car, no male clothes.

"We arrived at Paco's apartment complex. The
parking area was well lit. Paco took my shoes, then
quickly walked around the car and opened my door.
As gracefully as I could, I got out . One of his
neighbors was outside. He introduced me to her - a
young woman named Terri - as his new bride. Paco
didn't act at all ashamed of me, even though I was
a man wearing a wedding dress. Terri and I chatted
a bit; she told me about the apartment, some of the
neighbors, that type of thing. She didn't realize
that I wasn't female, probably because it was
rather dark. The small talk put me at ease a bit.
She teased Paco some, said that he should carry me
over the threshold. So he did! I felt incredibly
foolish but, in a way, I was grateful, too."

"Why grateful?" Jan asked.

"Well., grateful that he treated me like a woman -
like a bride - even though he knew I was a man and
that our marriage was phony. You know, I was
expecting him to treat me like dirt, to slap me
and., you know."

"We'll get to that, Patricia. Now go on," Jan said.

"Once inside, Paco put a movie into the DVD player
while I got out of my wedding gown. It felt so good
to be out of that dress!"

"What did you change into?" Katrina asked.

I took another sip of wine. "Into the nightie you
made me buy, Katrina. The pink nightie."

Katrina giggled.

"The babysitter dropped off Maria soon after. The
three of us watched a movie together, an animated
children's film. I was still quiet. I felt very
awkward: embarrassed, ashamed, you can imagine."

"Not really," said Jan. "But tell us, do you have
separate bedrooms?"

"Well., ah., the apartment only has two bedrooms.,
Paco's and Maria's."

"So, where do you sleep?" Jan asked.

"I swallowed hard, then replied. "With Paco. In his
bed."

"Every night?"

"Yes, Jan. Every night. We share the same bed."

Katrina then interrupted: "So tell us! Did you have
sex on your wedding night???"

I looked away from Jan, focusing my eyes on a tall
blond waitress standing at the bus stop in front of
the patio bar. "Yes. Yes we did. I didn't want to,
but we did."

"So Paco raped you," Jan said.

"Well no., no, not really. After Maria was asleep
he just led me into our bedroom. Soon he was naked.
We were in bed, together, being quiet, not talking,
not wanting to awaken Maria. Paco - and I - we just
sort of moved around a bit, and soon my mouth was
down near., it., and Paco used his hands to guide
my head onto., it., and soon it was in my mouth and
it felt hard, harder than Leti's, and it smelled
different than Leti's, and I, you know, began to
lick, and to lick and suck and., and.. What could I
do, Jan, what could I do? My God, what could I
do?!"

"And when Paco came, I could feel it coming, I'm
not stupid. I knew what was going to happen, but he
held my head so firmly I couldn't move, not an
inch. His cock penetrated deep into my mouth, and
then, when he came, I nearly choked. On and on,
spurt after spurt. I had no choice but to swallow
it, Jan! So I did. It tasted., well, you girls know
how it tastes, don't you? And after that everything
was silent and still, and I felt so very., lost.
disconnected. The night was like a dream, really.
After some minutes, maybe a half hour,  Paco had me
lick him, lick him like a dog, lick him all over
down there until he got hard again, and then, and
then."

"It's OK, Patricia," Jan said calmly. "Stop crying.
Tell us about it."

"Well, he had me remove my panties and then lie
face down, and he had me place a pillow under my
groin so that my ass was raised. I knew what he was
going to do - I'm not stupid - but I didn't stop
him. I didn't say no, Jan. What could I do? So, he
forced it into me. Forced it! God it hurt! I wanted
to scream, but we couldn't wake Maria. It took
quite awhile to get it in because I was so tense
that my muscles were too tight down there. But he
succeeded. In and out it went, in and out! Each
millimeter of movement felt, to me, like an inch,
or a foot. Paco leaned forward and grasped my
shoulders. It took some minutes - it felt like
hours - and then his grip upon me tightened. I felt
him strain, his body slammed into mine for one
final spasm; I heard him moan, I felt him quiver.
Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed I could
actually feel Paco's lifeblood pour into me.

"By then, I no longer felt like a man, not at all.
As he lay still atop me, his cock still plunged
into me, spent, I tried to recall just how I had
ended up in that bed, wearing a bra -and with
breasts! - but, Jan, I just couldn't connect the
dots. Everything was fuzzy."

"Wow," said Josie, amazed at my alcohol-induced
candor.

My right hand unconsciously fiddled with the
earrings which dangled from my pierced ears as I
continued: "After that, I cleaned Paco's penis with
soapy water and a washcloth. We hadn't spoken since
Maria went to sleep, so I was surprised when he
leaned towards me and said "Thank you, my pretty
bride." He lay in the bed and was asleep within
seconds, it seemed. Then I used the shower to clean
myself. When I finally crawled into bed, beside
Paco, I was half-dazed, wondering what would happen
next. I thought of you, Jan. Of you. Of my love for
you."

"So, did you have an orgasm, Patricia?" Josie
asked.

"No, Josie. Paco has never once even looked at my.,
my penis. Nor does he allow me to even touch it
when, you know, when dirty things are happening.
Paco says he always wants to picture me as a
female. So, even my breasts, my silicone breasts,
they must always be on. I can't remove my bra when
he's around. It's the same reason he won't let me
ever wear pants; I only wear skirts or dresses, you
know. But I've gotten good at it. I mean, good at
hiding my male attributes from him and Maria."

"Was that it, then? Was that the only time you two
have slept together?" Jan's voice was serious.

I took a deep breath as tears filled my eyes. "No,
Jan. Paco and I, we sleep together every night. In
the same bed. And almost every night I've had to
service him. Paco, he says that I'm his chica now.
He says that a good latina always services her
man."

Josie laughed. "Paco's right about that," she said.

"So he forces sex on you every night?" Jan asked.

"No, Jan. He doesn't really force me. It's not
quite like that. It just happens. He's not forcing
me, I don't think. I'm a man, I could say no,
couldn't I? I'm afraid I'm really screwed up, Jan;
all this has just messed up my mind. To be honest,
I've begun to feel., feminine., and the sex part
just seems sort of., normal."

Jan grimaced, as if my statement had somehow hurt
her deeply.

"So you service your husband every night," Josie
said. "How?"

"Please, Josie, I'd rather not describe it."

"Describe it, honey. Be specific. It's OK," Jan
said.

I glanced to my left and to my right. No one was
seated near us. I spoke softly. "You all know.
You're female, after all. I'm not."

"Uh, huh.," Katrina muttered skeptically.

"Well, after work, I usually pick up Maria at day
care. She's a nice girl, a beautiful girl. I guess
she just accepts me as her., a."

"Her mother," Jan interjected.

"Yea, I suppose so. As her mother. Sometimes we
stop and buy groceries on the way home. I notice
that no one second guesses my gender when Maria is
with me.

"When we get home I cook dinner. Maria does her
homework on the kitchen table. I know that sounds
stupid, daycare handing out homework, but it's
usually just a sheet of puzzles or of alphabet
routines. Anyway, we make dinner and Paco gets home
at about 7:00, sometimes 7:30. He usually stops
first to have a beer with the guys, you know." I
noticed the three young women staring at me with
amazement at how typical my life seemed to be.

"We usually eat while watching television, using TV
trays. Sometimes Maria and I go to the park after
dinner; occasionally Paco comes too. Eight thirty
is Maria's bedtime. Usually I read her a story."

"Wow," Katrina said sarcastically, "excitement in
suburbia."

"OK, Patricia, get to the sex," Jan said.

I ran my fingers through my hair twice, then
continued, "There's not much to say, Jan. Really.
It's not like I'm a slut." Jan stared at me
harshly, so I continued. "Well, usually it's like
this. After we put Maria to bed and she's fallen
sound asleep, I clean up a bit and go into bed. Of
course, I'm wearing my bra and breast inserts, a
tight pair of panties, and a nightie. I own several
nighties, now. I have to wear a nightie, otherwise
I'd look ridiculous; my hips are too skinny without
padding, you know. I'll either read or work on my
nails. Paco usually comes to bed when the news
starts. He sleeps in the nude. Once I asked him why
he doesn't wear pajamas, and he said that only
sissies do that, real men being proud to show off
their manhood. Well, that may be so., I guess I
wouldn't know..  Then, when he gets into bed, Paco
tells me what he wants."

I took a sip of wine and noticed that sun's image,
now setting, reflecting off my glass.

"What do you mean, Patricia? How does Paco tell
you," Josie asked.

"He just says it! Jesus, I really don't want to go
into this., I'm sorry, Josie, I didn't mean to
cuss. That's not feminine, is it?"

"No it's not," Katrina said. "Now tell us!"

"Well, he'll cuddle up to me, kiss me,"

"Kiss you? On the mouth?" asked Josie.

"Yes, always on the mouth. And my neck, my stomach,
my thighs, all over. And he rubs my thighs,
massages me. I guess he does whatever he used to do
with his wife. Then Paco will say something like
"Oh chica! Suck me, won't you? It's pounding, mi
bonita muchacha! It needs you to kiss it, to suck
it!" Crude stuff like that, he says. Paco doesn't
talk a lot. He's no intellectual. But he means
well. He really does. You know, it's so strange, he
really seems oblivious to the fact that I'm not
actually his wife, that I'm not even a real female.
He's just mentally blocked those facts from his
mind, I guess.

"So then I go down on him. It takes quite a while,
as he always wants me to lick him all over first -
I swear, I feel like a dog at times - and then
he'll stop me, moving my attentions to other parts
of his body. Eventually it's sucking time, and I
have to take his cock into my mouth, and suck, and
suck, and suck. Sometimes he'll stop me if he gets
too close to coming, just to lengthen the process.
And when he comes, it's always - always - like a
volcano erupting!"

"And you swallow?" Jan asked, looking into my eyes.
"You swallow that man's semen?"

"Yes, Jan. I do, I swallow. But I do it for you,
Jan. For us! For our future, together!"

"Sure, Patricia," Jan said cynically, "and also
because if you're not a good little girl, Carlos
may have you killed."

"That too., yes.," I said softly.

" Then what," asked Josie.

"Well., then we rest a bit. After I cool down I get
a damp washcloth to wipe Paco because my saliva
gets on him and, you know, ah., well.., his semen
gets mixed up in my mouth with my saliva, and he,
ah., doesn't like that."

"Doesn't like what? Quit stuttering, idiot!,"
Katrina said loudly.

"Gosh Katrina! I'm not a female, after all! I know
I may look like one in this damn short dress,
but.., I'm not a woman! I don't enjoy having to
tell you females that when I have a mouthful of
semen, some of it gets onto my "husband", making
him sticky, and so I must clean him.  It's OK for
you females to talk of such things, but it's not OK
for me!"

"SMACK!"

Jan's slap caught my be surprise. I looked at her;
her eyes flickered red with anger. I looked away
and noticed the blond waitress at the bus stop
staring at me.

"Quit talking back, you bitch," Jan growled.

After a minute of tense silence, during which I
tried unsuccessfully to hold back tears, Josie
asked, "Is that all you two do?"

I sighed, then continued, speaking to Josie,
avoiding Jan's and Katrina's eyes.  "Ah.., no,
Josie. Sometimes, usually on weekends, you know,
Paco does me, ah., the other way." I was at this
time both blushing and crying.

"You mean, Patricia," Katrina said pointedly, "Paco
sticks his cock into your ass. Isn't that right,
GIRL?"

"Yes, Katrina, that's what I mean." I glanced
towards Jan; she was staring at me coolly.

"But we don't really look at it that way, you see.
Paco, he says he must enter me. He says that if he
doesn't shoot his seed inside of me, deep inside of
my body, then he's not a man and I'm not a., a
woman. That's what he says, you see. I'm not a
woman., of course, I know I'm not a woman! I do!
But, don't you all see that it's really important
to him, to Paco, that he be able to maintain a
macho, straight male self-image? I can't very well
say to Paco, my husband, "Paco, I'm a man!", can I?
While dressed in a bra and nightie? I mean, we are
both stuck in this situation, for the time being we
are - who can deny it? So why should I ruin him by
speaking aloud a truth which we both know anyway?
It's not Paco's fault that his real wife left him
and now he's stuck with me, a fake female, just as
it's not my fault that I have to wear this yellow
dress and carry this purse." I picked my purse up
from the table and set it upon my lap, out of the
girls' view.

It does seem that you are much more considerate of
your "husband" than of your real wife," Katrina
said.

I swallowed hard and looked pleadingly towards Jan.
"No, honey, that's not at all true," I said. Jan
just looked at me, expressionless.

"Does it always hurt. Patricia?" Josie asked
innocently.

"Huh?"

"When Paco puts it into you, does it always hurt?"

I looked down at my empty glass. "Yes, Josie, it
does. It's very painful. Although I do lubricate
him first, you know. Still, it hurts, plus it's so
humiliating! Sometimes I picture in my mind how we
must look: me face down on the bed, wearing a bra,
my pink nightie tossed elsewhere on the bed, my
skin smooth and white and hairless, and Paco on top
of me, dark-skin, body hair, sweaty, holding me
down as his cock plunges in and out, over and over
and over and over.. Yes, it's humiliating to me.
But I have to go through this, for us., for Jan and
I."

"But Patricia," said Josie, "girls, girls like us I
mean - not like you - we get a certain pleasure
from knowing that we've satisfied our partners.
Even when it hurts - especially when it hurts! It's
a pleasurable pain, you see, for females it is.
Rather like childbirth, I suppose. Don't you get
some pleasure in making Paco happy?"

I was quiet.

"Answer Josie," Jan commanded. I looked at her,
blushing.

"Maybe., a little, I suppose. I mean, Paco's not
mean to me, not at all. He actually treats me very
well. Considering that there's a penis buried
within my panties, that's something exceptional.
Most guys, I suppose, would beat me, humiliate me.
But Paco, and Maria, they do treat me well and so,
yes., I do feel a strange., satisfaction.., even as
I feel the pain of being., fucked. When I realize
that he's wracked with pleasure, in orgasm, and I
know that I gave him this pleasure., well, yes.,
you're right Josie. When I feel that pain of our -
intercourse? - I do feel a simultaneous pleasure."

"So," Jan asked, "does Paco love you?"

I paused, taken aback by the question, then
answered carefully, "No, Jan. No, you don't
understand., us -  Paco and I. I mean, yes, he
tells me he loves me, but he means Patricia. Maybe
Paco does love Patricia., maybe he does love her. I
suspect he does. But, Jan, I'm not Patricia, am I?
I'm Tom. I'm your husband.  Paco, well he doesn't
even know Tom, doesn't know anything at all about
Tom. So, you see, Jan, Paco does not love me."

"Well, then, tell us: does Patricia love Paco?"
Having posed the question, Jan stared intently at
me.

"What?"

"You heard me," Jan said sternly. "Does Patricia
love Paco?"

"Well., no., of course not," I replied uneasily. I
could feel beads of sweat on my forehead.
"Patricia? Well., Patricia doesn't really exist,
does she? So how can Patricia love Paco? This
pretty yellow dress I'm wearing, my earrings, my
high heels, my breasts - they're not real! - that's
Patricia. Just clothes! Women's clothes! How can a
dress love a man? Can my high heels fall in love?
Gosh, Jan, it's all so confusing. All screwed up!"

The three young women stared silently at me.

"It's like this, you see. Patricia, the woman -  to
the extent she exists - why, yes, I suppose she
does like Paco. After all, Paco treats her nicely.
He's not ashamed of Patricia, not ashamed that
she's not a., typical?. female. He has no problem
being seen together with Patricia, by friends,
family, or in public. You know, he even likes to
hold my hand - I mean Patricia's hand - when we
walk through the mall or the park.. Well, after the
shame, the hell, that I went through while living
with you, Katrina (I glanced at her; she was
smiling), it was a huge relief to be treated as a.,
as a person."

"As a female person, you mean," Katrina said. "As a
woman."

"Yes, as a woman. I have a man who cares for me and
a child who needs me and in a way is beginning to
love me. So yes, Patricia does care for Paco, and
for Maria."

"Do you love him," Jan demanded. "I want to know."

"I love you, Jan. Only you. Always you." I couldn't
help it; I began to sob again.

"So, Jan," I said, barely above a whisper, "do you
love me?"

Jan was silent for a minute, maybe more. Katrina
and Josie waited intently, silently, as did I.  The
red-orange sun was visible; it now touched the
horizon. Shadows were long.

"No. No I don't, Patricia. At one time I did, I
loved Tom. Not because he was a macho male sex god
- nothing like that. I hate to break it to you, but
you were never very manly. In many ways, small way,
you were always feminine. But yet I did love you
because, well, because you loved me so much.
Because you were willing to study and work hard, be
successful, for me. Rather like you and Paco; I was
fond of  you mostly because you were so much in
love with me.

"But look at you now! For Christ's sake, Tom, you
sit there in that short, sexy dress, your makeup
done up oh so fine, your nails manicured and
painted, and then you describe to us  -to me, your
wife! - how very well you "service" your husband.
How you slurp down his cum as if it were soft ice
cream! How getting fucked in the ass "fulfills"
you! God Damn You!!"

"Please Jan," Josie interrupted, "don't be so
mean."

"Tell me, Tom," Jan continued, ignoring Josie, "do
you ever come anymore. Ejaculate. Like a man?"

"Why., well, yes, Jan. Sometimes. I'm still a man,
if that's what you're asking. Don't you see, I am a
man. I am!"

"So you are," Jan snickered. "A real man." She
paused before continuing. "And how do you do it?
With a girl? With a guy? Tell us."

"I told you, I can't show it., my cock., to Paco.
He doesn't allow that."

"And?" Jan said, impatiently.

"OK! So I masturbate! That's how I do it. That's
how I satisfy my., urges. When I'm alone, usually
before Paco comes to bed. When I slip into my
nightie, get everything in place nicely, and check
myself in our full length mirror. Sometimes, then,
not often, once a week or so, it gets hard. I can
see it fill my panties, getting hard. So then I'll
quickly, ah., relieve myself."

"In your panties?" Josie asked.

"No, no, it comes out into my hand. Sometimes I
might spill a little onto my panties, but I have to
rinse them out every night anyhow. Don't all girls
rinse out their panties? So, Jan, you see, I'm
still a man. I can still satisfy you in bed, So
why., why can't you still love me?"

"Why!!??" Jan nearly screamed. "Because, Tom, I did
NOT marry a man who jacks off while admiring
himself, all dolled up, in a mirror. No, Tom, I did
NOT marry a man who lies in bed every night,
wearing a bra and a nightie, eagerly waiting to
"service" his man! Somehow, Tom, those images just
don't register with me. No, not at all!"

I looked up and saw Paco, wearing jeans and a brown
t-shirt, stepping out onto the patio. He was
looking at us women talking at the table, but the
light was too dim for him to see the tension, or my
tears. Josie jumped up and greeted him with a warm
hug and a kiss on the cheek.

After greeting Josie, Paco turned to me. "Mi chica!
Maria's in the car, waiting for you. Let's drive
through McDonalds and go home and eat. OK?"

"Sure, Paco," I said, my voice still wavering.
"Sounds great!" I rose and slung the strap of my
purse over my shoulder. Jan rose too, politely
kissed my cheek and said good bye. Paco took my
hand and led me out of the restaurant.

   Part 65
   --------

Having lost her appetite, Jan picked at her food.
Josie had finished eating and Katrina helped
herself to some of Jan's leftovers.

"It's not uncommon for a guy to give in to his
feminine impulses. Obviously Leti did," Katrina
said. "Then too, I've seen sissy guys on Oprah and
Montel. Somehow, though, I just never pictured it
happening to Tom."

"Nor did I," Jan said. "He's disgusting. He's
pathetic! A disgrace to me, to his family, to all
men! A fucking sissy!"

"Maybe it's all because of those hormones we've
made him take," Katrina suggested.

"Hormones, hell!" Jan nearly yelled. "If he were a
real man, he wouldn't take them. You noticed his
cleavage, didn't you? If a guy starts to grow tits
and can't -or won't- figure out what is going on,
then he's not much of a man."

After some moments of silence, Josie said, "I just
don't see Patricia as so., terrible. She's not a
leper. She hasn't killed anyone. Excuse me for
saying this, but we latinas tend to believe that
anglo women are too uptight. You white women want
"things" much more than you want to be female. In
the mexicana culture, men may want things -
successful careers, large houses, fast cars, huge
televisions. Women, latina women, we just don't
need any of that to be happy. We only need a man
and children. A family. That's all."

"Barefoot and pregnant - the key to Hispanic
happiness," Katrina said sarcastically.

"Maybe so. But can either of you say that you are
happier than Patricia? Patricia is content to care
for her man and her daughter. She finds joy in
servicing Paco. You two consider her to be a
willing sex slave, but that's not so. Patricia is a
normal, fulfilled, latina woman. She has a man whom
she adores and who cares for her in return. We
don't, do we?  Patricia has a daughter whom she
loves and who loves her and needs her. We don't, do
we? Patricia has a purpose - a simple, achievable
purpose - for her life. Do we? Maybe, girls, we
should become more like Patricia instead of
condemning her because she's not eager to return to
manhood."

"You forget, Josie. Patricia is a man," Jan said,
frowning.

"No, Jan," Josie said. "You seem to forget that
Patricia is a person. Let her choose her life."

   Part 66
   --------

A few billowy white clouds hung still in the clear
blue sky. It was a very warm Saturday afternoon,
for December. We were at a park on Bachman Lake,
located a few miles north of downtown Dallas.
Occasionally, the sound of planes landing at the
nearby airport drowned out the voices of children
playing.

I wore a full peasant skirt, long - its hem fell
nearly to my ankles - dark green, with pleats. I
wore simple cloth flats, Mary Jane style, purchased
for $9.99 at a nearby Payless Shoes. A white
sleeveless sweater completed my outfit.

I no longer felt at all nervous or apprehensive
wearing female garb. People had come to accept me
like this and, perhaps in response, I had come to
accept myself. Not that I strived to fool or
deceive: most of our acquaintances knew that a
penis was tucked somewhere within my panties, but
they just didn't seem to care. In fact, Terri, our
neighbor, had become a very close friend of mine.

I sat reading a magazine at a picnic table, facing
the lake, it's shore just a few yards from me. The
calls of a pushcart vendor - "Helado! Frio Agua! -
caused me to turn my head. A sharp quiver coursed
through me: Jan was there, near the pushcart,
walking towards me. She stared at me, apparently
uncertain that I was her husband. Jan wore a loose
pink sweater and blue jeans, with white tennis
shoes. She carried a clipboard holding papers. Our
eyes locked.

"Hi, Patricia," she said as she reached me. "Your
neighbor Terri said you'd be here. I hope you don't
mind my interrupting your picnic."

"Why., ah., no.. Of course not," I said, still
stunned and, of course, embarrassed to be seen by
Jan dressed as I was.

"So, you're reading "Elle" now," she said, having
noticed the magazine in my hands. "It has some good
fashion articles in it, don't you think?"

"Yes., I suppose so, Jan. It's not like I always
read this type of magazine., not often, anyhow."

"It's OK, Patricia. I don't mind. Not anymore.
Let's go over to that bench and talk, OK?"

I asked Paco, who with his cousin was barbequing
hamburgers nearby, to excuse me for a few minutes.
Jan and I sat upon a bench located about 100 feet
away. The bench was small; my hips touched Jan's as
we sat, side by side. It had been so long, so very
long, since I'd touched this beautiful woman, my
wife.

"I ran into Emily yesterday. She says you've
mastered your new job."

"Sure, Jan. I've mastered answering phones, making
coffee and cookies, chatting with women and
flirting with men, all while dressed like a sexy
tart! For that, I became a CPA," I said with a wry
laugh.

"I remember, back in college, you once considered
majoring in poetry. Maybe you just weren't meant to
be an accountant, Patricia."

"Maybe I wasn't meant to be a man, either," I said
after a pause.

"Maybe," Jan replied.

We were silent for a long while, watching lovers
walk, side by side, barely visible along the far
shore.

"Patricia," Jan said, "I need you to sign this
document. It's our divorce agreement."

The color drained from my face.  "But., Jan.,
please."  Tears came to my eyes.

"Hush. No crying, Patricia. Let's act like the
women we are, not like girls."

Just then Maria ran up to me. "Mommy! My shoe is
untied," she said in her sing-song voice.

"OK, my precious one, come here and I'll fix it," I
said. After I finished she happily skipped away to
join her cousins on the playground.

"Josie says that you're the lucky one in all of
this," Jan said. "Maybe she's right."

I didn't respond. I stared at the papers, but
couldn't make out a single word through my tears.

"Go ahead, Patricia. Sign."

"But Jan."

"Tell me, has Josie asked Carlos to let you become
a man again?"

I don't know, Jan. I haven't seen Josie for three
or four months."

"Huh.," Jan said, staring down at my skirt, "It
doesn't seem that your manhood is struggling to
break free from your panties, does it?"

"Please, Jan."

"Go ahead, Patricia. Sign. You'll be allowed to
keep your 401(k). There's enough money in there for
surgery - breast implants, vagina, whatever you
need. Whatever you desire. Sign. It's best for
you., for us."

I took a tissue from Jan and wiped my eyes, then
Jan showed me where to plant my signature -
actually Tom's signature. I didn't even read the
document; I stared at my nails, nails painted
bright red, as Jan showed me where to sign. What
had become of Tom, I wondered. What had become of
me?

"Thank you, Patricia," Jan said when I finished.
"I'll file these with the county tomorrow." She
took the clipboard, stood, then waked away.

After she left I wiped my eyes, then returned to
Paco, to Maria, to life.


              The End


     +  +  +  +  +  +  +  +  +  +  +  +  +  +  +


              BETWEEN SEX
            -  a poem by Patricia  -


Mysteries! Mysteries not meant for Man to know
I have swallowed whole
like berries plucked from forbidden trees.

So Sweet! Oh, so sweet
these pure, luscious berries,
female of form.

My gentle fragrance wafts;
a finely weaved skirt caresses thighs
My thighs!
Heavy breasts weighting body raising soul.

"Oh, God, What happened?"
voices call from life's past.
"A limitless potential run aground!"

Yet I, now smooth of skin
So soft! So submissive!
am at last content.
I AM MEANT TO BE!