Date: Wed, 07 Feb 2007 12:39:39 -0700
From: Sandi Randolph <sandi_35_ts@hotmail.com>
Subject: Journey of the Soul - Part 4

Journey of the Soul - Part 4, The Trip to Stanholtz

Please Note:  This continuing story is fictional.  Any perceived similarity
to real persons, either living or dead, is strictly coincidental.  Although
it's intended primarily as an entertaining story with alternative sex, the
"story" part takes priority over the "sex".  If you are looking to read a
story that is pure sex with almost no plot, don't bother with this one.
It's rather long, presented in several parts, and (just as is usually the
case in real life) the sex portions are slow to develop.  Also, if you are
below the legal age or fiction of a sexual nature is illegal where you live,
please leave now.


************************************************************************

Summary of previous episodes:  Abducted by unknown individuals working for
his wife, and left for dead as the victim of a staged car accident just off
a remote mountainside, young Software tycoon Paul Taylor recovers in the
cabin of Rusty MacDonald.  With his own clothes ruined in the "accident",
Paul has little choice but to borrow the clothes left in the cabin by
Rusty's late sister.  A secret crossdresser, Paul finds himself adopting,
and becoming comfortable with, a female persona.  One thing leads to
another, and soon Paul (now thinking of himself as "Paula") and Rusty become
sexually involved, first with Paul giving Rusty an impromptu blowjob, and
then actually sleeping together.  Their relationship develops to the point
where the two find themselves in love and committed to a life together.
Rusty develops a plan that, if successful, will allow Paul to truly become a
woman, while still seeing to it that Paul's estranged wife gets the
punishment she deserves, instead of being rewarded by inheriting Paul's
estate.

************************************************************************

It only took Paula about 20 minutes to write the carefully worded letter to
her attorney, designed to cast as much suspicion towards Patti as possible,
yet without anything included that would display any unbelievable levels of
precognition.  It merely stated that he suspected her of having an affair,
and that he thought she may be trying to find a way around the prenuptial
agreement.  Training Old Lobo to do his part, however, was considerably more
difficult.  It wasn't until the third day of setting out bowls of broiled
rabbit for him that Paula was finally able to coax him into the cabin.  When
Rusty returned that evening he started the process of training the semi-wild
animal to play mailman, a process that consumed another two days and several
pounds of venison.  Finally, Rusty felt the wolf-dog was up to the task, and
man and beast set out on foot together for the arduous climb up the steep
slope to the site of the crash where Lobo had found Paula months earlier.

It was nearly dark before they returned, with Rusty beaming like a
schoolboy, pausing to pet and heap praise on Lobo about every ten steps.
Paula could tell from Rusty's demeanor, even when they were still hundreds
of yards away, that the mission had been a success.  She'd never doubted
that they'd be successful, and had planned a special dinner with venison
steaks for all three of them, and had picked the sexiest cocktail dress she
could find in her closet for the occasion.  Next came the hard part . . .
waiting for the snow to clear enough to be able to drive out through the
pass and into civilization.

It was another two weeks before that milestone was reached, but finally the
day came when Rusty told her the pass was clear enough to drive through, and
they'd be leaving the next morning.  He brought a large suitcase, a long
garment bag and a small overnight bag in from the storage shed, laying the
suitcase and garment bag down on the long-since unused bed in Paula's room,
and taking the smaller overnight bag into the room they now shared to pack
the few things he'd need for what he said would be a three-day round trip
for him.  Paula, however, needed to pack as much as she could into the two
suitcases for her extended visit to the Stanholtz Clinic.

They packed after dinner, with Paula stuffing the suitcase with her
lingerie, toiletries and shoes and a half dozen of her favorite dresses into
the garment bag.  The plan was for Rusty to rejoin her once the car had been
discovered and whatever investigation followed had finished any work that
may have brought the investigators to the cabin.  She had no idea when, if
ever, she'd be able to return to the cabin that she now thought of as
"home", and so made Rusty promise that when he rejoined her he'd bring the
rest of the wardrobe she'd grown to love so much.

They skipped the normal period of cuddling on the couch, watching TV, opting
instead for an hour or so of planning, including Paula's choice of a
temporary surname . . . she chose her mother's maiden name of "Reynolds" . .
. followed by several hours of long, slow, gentle, passionate lovemaking.
Paula drifted off to sleep with her back to Rusty, his big arms wrapped
around her and with his softening cock still deep inside her.  She felt more
at peace and relaxed than she had ever felt before in her life.  They were
up before dawn, showered, said their goodbyes to Lobo and got ready to go.
They gobbled down a quick snack of coffee and toast.  Rusty put on an extra
flannel shirt and gave Paula his parka to wear during the cold ride into the
village, then loaded their luggage and Paula's new laptop and printer into
the Jeep.  Rusty explained that the Wagoneer had a broken back window and no
heater . . . he didn't usually drive it at all during the winter . . . but
that he had a car in storage that they could change to in the village just
beyond the pass.  Later they'd stop, Rusty promised, for a real breakfast
when they got to Taos, about a two-hour drive from their canyon.  This was
the first time that Paula had really become aware of her location . . . the
mountains of north-central New Mexico . . . since her abduction.  From Taos
they'd head north into Colorado, and be at the clinic somewhere around
nightfall.

Panic seized her when she finally realized that she was about to go out in
public as a woman for the first time.  "People will know, Rusty!  They'll
laugh at me!  Everyone will make fun of the crazy guy, running around
dressed like a woman!"

Rusty just laughed.  "Honey, nobody in this world would ever mistake you for
a guy dressed like a woman.  Other women will be begging you for advice on
clothes and makeup, and the men will be jealous of me, getting to travel
with the prettiest girl around.  Just relax.  Everything will be just fine."

With the river, swollen with water from the snow melt, only yards away from
them, Rusty navigated around and through snowdrifts, following a road that
probably only he even knew exactly where, beneath the snow, it was located.
Finally they reached a particularly narrow point in the canyon, with a wall
of snow that would be halfway up their doors in front them, with only a
couple sets of snowmobile tracks to show there was any sort of passage
possible.

"Hang on!"  Rusty called over to her.  "It'll be scary for a second or two,
but we'll be fine!"  Then he gunned the engine.

Paula was too cold at that point to worry about a second or two of "scary",
and she didn't see anything to hang onto.  Instead she just braced her feet
against the floorboards, pressing herself deep into the back of the seat,
and closed her eyes.  She felt the Jeep give a lurch as it hit the
snowdrift, and choked back a moment of fear of getting stuck as the Wagoneer
slowed nearly to a stop, and then a feeling of relief as the front wheels
caught some traction and they broke through to the other side of the drift.
She opened her eyes to see a handful of adobe buildings in the distance, a
few with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys . . . her first glimpse
of the outside world in months.

They passed a beat up sign that announced "Welcome to Tres".  The bottom
part of the sign was missing, and Paula idly wondered what there were three
of in this town.  Was this "Tres Casas"?  No, there were more than three
houses.  Perhaps "Tres Telefonos".  Three telephones might be about right,
since only a couple of the houses even had power lines running to them.
Rusty slowed and turned at the only side street that branched off the main
"street", which was itself little more than a gravel path.  They approached
a block building that looked like a small warehouse with two garage-style
doors in the front and Rusty reached up to the visor and pushed a button on
a remote control.

"Time to change to a warmer vehicle" he announced as one of the doors began
to lift.  He drove into the empty bay and came to a halt, parked beside a
gleaming silver Lexus SUV that sat in the other bay.  He transferred their
luggage to the Lexus while a nearly frozen Paula stumbled across to the
newer vehicle and got herself settled into the passenger seat.

The leather seats were like ice, but almost as soon as Rusty had started the
car the electric seat warmers began working their magic.  Within minutes,
with the engine running and the heater on full-blast, the interior was
toasty enough for Paula to wriggle out of the borrowed parka, which she
tossed onto the back seat.  Rusty punched buttons on remote controls, and
the first bay door closed as the one in front of the Lexus opened up.
Driving out, Paula decided that she wouldn't miss that Jeep one bit.  The
door closed behind them as they pulled back out onto the side lane, and
within minutes they were headed east on a small but paved road, the village
of "Tres Something" fading behind them.

********************************

They reached Taos around 9:30 that morning and stopped at a great little
restaurant called "Michael's Kitchen".  And it turned out that Rusty had
been right . . . well, at least half right.  None of the other women in the
restaurant asked her opinion on fashion or cosmetics, nor did any of the men
express any jealousy about Rusty's traveling companion.  But neither did
anyone laugh at her.  In fact, nobody even showed any real interest in her,
except for the waitress who politely inquired "Would you like some more
coffee, miss?"  There was, however, one anxious moment.  She'd excused
herself to visit the rest room, and without even thinking had pushed the
door of the men's room open and started to walk in just as a middle-aged man
was drying his hands before leaving.  She blushed, made a hasty "Oops!
Wrong door!" apology, and made a hasty retreat in the direction of the
ladies room.

They finished eating, paid the check and got back on the road with no
further incident.  Once they were moving again, Paula let out a big sigh of
relief, and they both had a good laugh over her embarrassing lapse.  Rusty
stopped at a small electronics store . . . the same place he had purchased
her computer, he said . . . and bought a pre-paid cell phone.  He tried
making a call from inside the car, but the signal kept dropping, so he
stopped and got out to make his call.  He ended up having to stand on the
hood of the car to get enough elevation for a good signal, but he finally
got through to his party, and made several other calls from there while
Paula stayed warm and cozy in the SUV, with the heater blowing a steady flow
of warm air up her dress, warming her legs.

When he got back into the car, Rusty had a smug, self-satisfied grin on his
face.  "Okay!  I've got a paralegal at my firm working on creating a whole
set of "replacement" identification documents for you in the name of Paula
Reynolds.  When we get to Denver I'll hit a BestBuy or Circuit City for a
digital camera and get some pictures of you that I can send back to Los
Angeles to get incorporated into your new IDs.  Ray's Electronics back there
didn't have much of a selection of cameras, and they were mostly junk.
Meanwhile, the good folks at the Stanholtz Clinic are expecting you.  So
far, the only real problem I see is that they don't have anybody available
for intake after 5 PM, and we won't make it there by then, so we'll have to
grab a motel room for the night somewhere around Denver and we'll get you to
the clinic in the morning.  It's probably just as well.  If we get a motel
room with high-speed internet, we can get your pictures taken, select the
ones you like best and email them into the office.  We could have a complete
set of identification on its way to you sometime tomorrow afternoon."

The road north out of Taos certainly didn't look much a main route to
Denver.  Only one lane in each direction, it rode the contours of a valley
between two sets of mountains.  For a short time Paula began to wonder if
Rusty really knew where he was going, but her concerns were put to rest when
they intersected with, and headed north on, Interstate 25 sometime in the
early afternoon.  Less than an hour later they were pulling into the parking
lot of a fast-food restaurant, in the small city of Pueblo, for a late
lunch.  Paula headed for the ladies' room . . . this time she went straight
to the right door . . . while Rusty placed their order.  Within a half hour
they were back on the road again.  Less than two hours after that they were
coming into Denver.  The sun was dropping down behind the mountains when
they got off of I-25 onto the Denver-Boulder Turnpike.  The clinic, Rusty
had told her, was actually nestled in the mountains west of Boulder.  About
halfway between Denver and Boulder, Rusty spotted a shopping center with a
Wal-Mart and a Circuit City, with a Marriott Hotel across the street.  He
pulled up in front of the Wal-Mart entrance and pulled his Visa debit card
from his wallet and told Paula his PIN number.

"Buy whatever you need.  I'm sure you've got a list of things you've done
without for the past few months, so now's the time to get them.  There's
plenty of money in this bank account, so don't worry about the expense.  But
make sure you get yourself a warm jacket.  I don't mean to be stingy, but I
need my parka back.  I'm going over to Circuit City to pick out a camera.
I'll pick you up back here in about an hour."

Paula smiled, took the card, gave Rusty a quick kiss and opened the car door
to the chill of the Colorado mountain air.  Coatless, she dashed the 25 feet
to the store's entrance before turning to blow Rusty another kiss.  Inside,
she grabbed a cart and headed straight back to the Women's Apparel section.
She picked out a pretty pink hooded ski jacket with fake fur at the cuffs
and around the hood before heading over to the Health and Beauty Aids
section, where she got herself a curling iron, some styling gel and a few
other necessities.  She glanced at her watch and saw she still had about
half an hour to kill before meeting Rusty back out in front of the store.
She suddenly realized that she was probably the only woman in the store not
carrying a purse, so she headed back over towards the Women's section where
she'd seen some purses in the Accessories department.  With a new purse and
wallet in her cart, and with time still to spare, she browsed through the
lingerie, where she selected a few "special" items, before checking out.  By
the time she got through the checkout and got outside, Rusty was waiting for
her with the engine running.  As she got into the car, he smiled approvingly
at the ski jacket.

"Nice jacket!  Warm-looking, but still very sexy!"

"Glad you like it!  I picked up a few other things that I hope you'll like
just as much."

"Great!  Let me see!"

"Not yet.  Later." She gave him a suggestive wink, handed his Visa debit
card back to him and tossed her bag into the back seat as he pulled away
from the curb and drove over to the Marriott.  While Rusty got them checked
into the hotel, Paula sat in the car, transferring a few of the items she'd
just purchased into her new purse.  She paused in the middle of transferring
the new wallet, lipstick, compact and eye makeup from the Wal-Mart bag to
the handbag that these were the first feminine articles that were truly
hers, and not "borrowed" from Rusty's late sister.  She'd felt so
comfortable picking them out and purchasing them, that it felt like she'd
been doing it all her life.

She finished transferring the smaller items to her purse just as Rusty was
leaving the hotel lobby and came out the front door, headed for the Lexus.
He drove them around to the side entrance and got out while Paula gathered
her Wal-Mart bag and joined him at the door, which Rusty opened with the
key-card.  She waited just inside the door while Rusty went back to the car
for their luggage, marveling at how easily she had adapted to, and learned
to enjoy, the role of the weak pampered woman who steps aside to let her man
take care of her.  Of course, she had also adapted to, and learned to enjoy,
the role of the submissive sex object in bed, taking care of her man's more
primitive needs in return.  They walked together down the hall to their
room, with Rusty setting down their luggage before opening the door with the
key-card.  Rusty seemed about ready to pick her up and carry her into their
room . . . actually, a rather nice suite . . . but she walked out of his
reach and into the room, giving him a teasing glance back over her shoulder.

"Hey!" he called out to her.  "I wanted to be a real gentleman and carry you
across the threshold!"

"When you make an honest woman out of me . . . and I guess first someone has
to make ANY sort of a woman out of me . . . you can carry me across any
threshold you like.  Until then, I walk on my own two feet."

"Fair enough, but I see you have no problem with letting me carry all the
luggage by myself" he joked back, as he picked up their bags and followed
her into the room.  Once inside, Rusty started familiarizing himself with
the workings of the camera while Paula started setting up her laptop to
connect to the Internet.

"Pick out two different outfits to wear for the photos, hon.  That way you
won't have identical pictures on your new driver's license and your new
passport."

She pulled two dresses out of the garment bag and took them, along with her
new purse and the Wal-Mart bag, into the bathroom.  "Take your time figuring
out that camera.  I've got some work to do before I'm presentable for a
modeling session!"

Twenty minutes later she emerged from the bathroom with perfect makeup, her
hair curled into an attractive feminine style and wearing the pink summer
dress with the V-neck and a couple of pieces of jewelry from the meager
collection she'd brought along.  She sat on a stool from the suite's
breakfast bar in front of the only bare wall available, and let Rusty take
pictures of her from the bust up from almost every conceivable angle and
with every expression on her face that she thought might look good on a
photo ID.  After about two dozen shots she got up and went back to the
bathroom to change.  She came out with a slight change to the hairdo,
different necklace and earrings and wearing a powder blue dress with a scoop
neck.  Another two dozen pictures later, Rusty felt he had all the shots he
needed.

"Okay, babe.  You know that I don't know much about computers, so you're
gonna have to show me how to get these pictures from the camera, onto the
computer and then off to LA."

"Not just yet.  We've got one more photo shoot to do before we get into
that."

Rusty looked puzzled, but didn't try to stop her as Paula headed back into
the bathroom.  He had no idea what they needed a third set of photos for,
but saw no sense in arguing.  When she came back out his jaw dropped.  She
was wearing an ultra-sheer black baby doll negligee that clearly showed the
small, but perfectly shaped, breasts she'd recently developed, with a
hemline that barely came down to her hips, where a tiny black thong was
barely covering anything.

She climbed up onto the bed and put herself into one of the most provocative
and sexy poses she could imagine.  "Start shooting.  Don't worry . . . these
aren't for any sort of ID.  These are just for you to keep on the camera, to
look at while we're apart.  That way you won't forget me too easily."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about me forgetting you!  But I don't mind
taking a few pictures back with me to drool over until I can come back up
here for you!"  With that he started shooting away, with Paula changing
poses with every click of the camera.  Finally she struck a pose where she
was on her hands and knees right at the foot of the bed, with her ass
pointed towards Rusty, looking back over her shoulder at him.  Instead of
taking a picture of her like that, Rusty tossed the camera into a lounge
chair, moved in behind her, dropped his pants, pulled the thin string of the
thong that ran through her ass crack to one side and rammed his cock hard
and deep into her ass.  What followed could never be described as
"lovemaking".  It was pure animal sex, with Rusty standing behind Paula,
holding her hips, grunting and driving hard with each thrust and Paula
moaning lustily as she rocked to meet each of his thrusts.  It barely lasted
two minutes before Rusty exploded inside her, filling her with a massive
load of hot cum.

Afterwards they both collapsed on the bed, with Rusty's pants still around
his ankles, until both of their heart rates returned to something resembling
normal.  Once they recovered, Paula got dressed again and they got busy with
the task of transferring the pictures . . . only the "clean" ones . . . to
the laptop.  Then Paula set up a Hotmail account in Rusty's name and they
attached the best of each of the first two groups of photos to an email to
the paralegal Rusty had working on Paula's ID problem before going out for a
nice quiet dinner.  It would be their last night together for several weeks.
  They made love again when they went to bed for the night, but it was their
more conventional gentle and passionate lovemaking.  The sex that both would
remember over the coming weeks of separation they were about to endure would
be the spontaneous animal sex they had enjoyed at the tail end of the photo
session.