Date: Wed, 15 Nov 2006 13:06:34 -0700
From: Sandi Randolph <sandi_35_ts@hotmail.com>
Subject: Journey of the Soul - Part 3, Transitioning

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 for the first time.

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

Paula awoke early the next morning.  It took her a few moments to get her
bearings, but Rusty's gentle snoring helped her to quickly reorient herself.
  During the night she had rolled over so that she was now laying on her
right side, facing away from Rusty, almost in a fetal position.  Rusty
seemed to be in an almost identical position, with his arm draped gently
over Paula's waist, and his semi-hard cock nestled comfortably in the crack
between her butt cheeks.  Deciding to take full advantage of the position,
Paula slid herself upwards in the bed so that Rusty's fleshy organ could
spring out slightly, positioning it naturally right at Paula's slightly sore
rosebud.  She slid herself back down on it, allowing it to easily get
absorbed into her still slippery and well stretched hole.  They lay together
like that, with Paula self-impaled on Rusty's cock, for about 20 minutes
before the mountain man stopped snoring and began to stir.

Actually, a part of him had started stirring several minutes before the
snoring had stopped, and now the rest of his body was starting to stir in a
manner that seems to be the most natural motion in world for a male body
whose sex organ is tightly held in a warm moist place.  Paula felt Rusty's
rapidly stiffening cock gently sliding in and out of her, as his hips began
banging gently against her butt.  She moaned gently, slid her right leg
under Rusty's leg, and rolled slightly so as to be less on her side and more
on her belly.  Taking the hint, Rusty rolled up on top of her and started
pounding away at her ass with increasing vigor.

Grasping the end of the mattress with her hands and her face buried in the
pillow, Paula spread her legs wider and raised her hips slightly, opening
herself up even more to Rusty's hammering cock.  Within moments the
now-familiar waves of gentle spasms were rolling through her body.
Suddenly, simultaneously with the welcome sensation of Rusty's hot cum
exploding inside her, an extremely hard spasm tightened everything inside
her, causing the backs of her legs to cramp up, and producing a small puddle
on the sheet beneath her belly.  Completely spent, Rusty collapsed onto her
back, pressing her deeply into the mattress.

They lay that way together for a few minutes.  Paula was surprised at how
comfortable she was, despite the weight of the large man on top of her.
Finally, she reached back with her hand, giving Rusty a gentle slap on his
ass.  "C'mon, big guy.  Off me!  I need to grab a quick shower and get
breakfast going."

Reluctantly, Rusty pulled out of her, and rolled off and onto his back.
Paula rolled out of the bed, recovering her panties with one hand and
grabbing her shoes with the other, and made a beeline for the bathroom.  She
felt like a dam was about to burst inside her, and she didn't want Rusty's
cum running down her legs.

After emptying herself and grabbing a quick shower, she tossed on the pink
satin robe and was starting toward the door to the kitchen when she
remembered Cindy's hormone pills.  The dose she had taken the previous
evening hadn't seemed to have had any real effect on her, but of course she
wouldn't expect much out of one dose.  At least they hadn't made her sick,
or anything like that.  She retrieved the pill jars and shook out another
three blues and two whites, making a mental note to remember to take two
more whites at lunchtime, and took the pills with her out to the kitchen,
where she washed them down with a glass of Tang.  She'd always hated Tang as
a kid, but she was getting used to it.  It was pretty hard to insist on
fresh-squeezed orange juice when you're snowed in.

Rusty had gotten the coffee started while she was getting her shower, so
Paula got breakfast started while he took his.  Fresh out of the shower, he
quietly came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and started kissing
and nuzzling the side of her neck, sending goose bumps up and down her body,
and making her giggle like a little girl.

"Does this mean that there's some chance you might invite me to share your
bed again, sometime in the future?" she laughed.

"Absolutely not!" he replied, still kissing her neck.

Paula's heart sank a bit, but she kept on whipping the powdered eggs and
water into a frothy rue.

"What it means" Rusty continued, "is that I would really like for you to
stop thinking of that bed as MY bed, and start thinking of it as OURS, and I
would greatly appreciate it if you'd occupy it with me every night.  I'm
assuming, of course, that future nights will be as enjoyable as last night.
And this morning."

Paula spun in his arms, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself
up until her lips met his.  After a quick kiss she pulled back a few inches
to whisper "I'm yours for as long as you'll have me" and reinitiated the
kiss, this time as a lingering one, opening her lips enough to allow his
probing tongue entrance into her mouth, where it met her own tongue in a
sensual dance.

Paula wished the kiss could go on forever, but she was brought back to
reality when she felt Rusty's rapidly hardening and swelling cock pressing
against her belly.  She pushed him gently away from her, fighting for her
breath.

"Plenty of time for that later, sweetheart!  But you've got traps to tend
and I've got some yucky sheets to wash.  And we both need to get some
breakfast, so you'd better get that sweet cock of yours back under control,
at least until after we've eaten."

Rusty laughed, released her and starting backing away toward the bedroom.
"Okay, but I'm gonna hold you to that `later' statement as a promise."

She was just putting the perfectly cooked bacon and eggs on the table as he
came out of the bedroom fully dressed.  They talked a little while they ate,
but not about anything of consequence . . . certainly not about the previous
night or the manner in which they awoke.  Or, for that matter about the
brief pre-breakfast encounter in the kitchen.  Rusty commented on the
growing storm clouds visible over the mountains and likely headed their way.
  Paula mentioned that some of the food supplies were getting low, and asked
Rusty to bring some more coffee, sugar, flour and powdered eggs in from the
storage shed.  Once Paula got Rusty out the door to tend his trap line she
got herself dressed, stripped the soiled sheets from the big bed, and got
them into the washer.

For a relatively small dwelling, set in a primitive environment, the cabin
was remarkably well equipped with modern conveniences.  Fueled by a large
underground tank buried next to the barn, twin diesel generators in that
out-building provided ample electrical power, and the water was not only
sweet and pure, but plentiful thanks to a deep well.  While the cabin didn't
have all the modern amenities that were part of the home she had once shared
with Patti, Paula certainly couldn't complain.  All the basics were there.
The only item lacking that she really missed was a computer.  She had tried
to keep her mind busy by rereading Cindy's old glamour magazines, but she
couldn't quite manage to keep her head from developing intricate strings of
computer code that she had no way of saving to disk anywhere.  Hopefully,
that was something that could be rectified in the spring.

For today, as had become her custom the past few weeks, once her housework
was out of the way, she spent the rest of the morning experimenting with
makeup and trying out some of the hair styling tips shown in the magazines.
Her hair had been long enough to take a feminine style even before her
abduction, and had since gotten longer.  But, without styling gel, a curling
iron or any of the other items the magazines suggested using, it was
difficult to duplicate any of the styles sported by the models in the how-to
pages, and on the rare occasions that she was successful, the style would
sort of fall apart after an hour or so.  Subsequently she always went back
to the wig before Rusty got home.  The makeup, however, was another story
entirely.  She'd actually gotten quite good at its application, and took
pride in how feminine . . . even pretty . . . she could make herself appear
to be.  A feminine appearance was important to her before, but it was doubly
important now that she and Rusty had become lovers.  She wanted to see to it
that she was as pretty and desirable as possible for him when he came
through the door from now on.  And her fingernails no longer needed the help
of the press-on nail tips.  They'd grown long, and she took pride in their
feminine appearance, trying out every color of polish left behind by Rusty's
late sister.

She was busy plucking her eyebrows and the few random whiskers that appeared
occasionally above her upper lip when she heard a soft thumping at the door.
  She recognized the sound immediately and went to the door to let Old Lobo
in.  As Rusty had told her, he certainly wasn't anybody's "pet", but he
visited every few days, especially when the hunting was bad and he was
hungry, or when the weather turned really bad.  Today he just brushed past
her and lay down in front of the big wood stove.  If he'd have been hungry
he would've headed straight for the kitchen area, so this was a sure sign
that Rusty's concern this morning over the clouds over the mountains had
been warranted.  Lobo sensed a storm coming, and had sought out warm
shelter.  She hoped Rusty could make it back home before the coming storm
got too bad.

She suddenly realized she was hungry.  It was already one in the afternoon,
and she'd been so absorbed in pruning her eyebrows that she'd forgotten to
eat.  She heated up the pot of rabbit stew left over from last night and
scooped out two bowls . . . one for her and one for Old Lobo.  Hunger wasn't
what brought him there that day, but he never turned down a free meal when
one was offered.  Paula was only about half done with her bowl by the time
the wolf-dog finished his and quietly padded back over to the wood stove to
return to his nap.  Just then a little mental alarm went off inside her
head, and Paula remembered the regimen of hormone pills she'd put herself on
the evening before.  She fetched her lunchtime dosage, washed the pills down
with a swallow of Tang, and finished her stew.

She spent most of her afternoon in preparation of a very special dinner.
She'd taken two thick venison steaks out to thaw in a tangy marinade, and
two fresh baking potatoes out of the pantry.  The venison they had plenty
of, but the potatoes were not in abundance, and were thus reserved for
"special" meals.  There were plenty of canned vegetables, and Paula chose
the cream-style corn, knowing it was one of Rusty's favorites.  The potatoes
were nearly done, the steaks in the broiler and the pot of corn just about
up to temperature when she heard Rusty's snowmobile pass the front of the
cabin on its way down to the barn.  She'd planned this meal to be part of a
special evening, but it was only a part of it.  She'd also dressed
especially for the moment Rusty would step through the door.  She turned
down the heat on the corn so it wouldn't burn, and hurried to the spot just
inside the door that would position her perfectly for what she had in mind.
Wearing only bra, panties, garter belt, nylons, heels and the sheerest
negligee she could find, all in black, she stood just inside the door and
waited.

The moment Rusty came through the door she dropped to her knees, her hands
at the front of his pants.  Before he even managed to get his parka
unzipped, she had undone his belt and his zipper, pulled his pants down to
mid-thigh and had his cock in her mouth, licking and sucking him feverishly.
  Rusty wasted no time in getting into the swing of things, holding her head
and pumping his hips, almost violently fucking her face.  He didn't last
more than about two minutes before releasing his hot seed into her mouth.
Paula swallowed greedily, cleaned Rusty's cock with her tongue, and redid
his pants before looking up at him and telling him "That's the appetizer.
Venison's for dinner, and you get me any way you want me for dessert."

She didn't bother to change clothes for dinner, enjoying both the way she
felt in them and the way Rusty was looking at her.  He surprised her by
pulling his chair around the table, to sit beside her instead of across from
her, and spent the whole meal eating with his right hand while he gently
stroked the inside of her thigh with his left, exciting her to the point of
her being barely able to eat.  After dinner he turned on the TV to catch the
news while she cleaned up the dishes before joining him on the couch,
snuggling up to his chest.  The predicted storm arrived, ruining what little
reception they had on the TV, and they retired early.  They made love three
times that night before dozing off, exhausted, with the storm raging
outside.

Paula woke well before dawn to find herself alone in bed.  She slipped into
her robe and slippers . . . it was a bit chilly in the cabin . . . to go out
to the great room to find Rusty gazing out the window at the falling snow.
She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, and asked
"What's wrong, honey?"

"Nothing really wrong.  Old Lobo wanted to go out, so I let him out.  That's
all."

Paula looked over at the animal, who was curled up, snoring peacefully in
front of the wood stove.  "Lobo went back to bed.  How come you didn't do
the same?"

"Just thinking about some things.  No big deal."

"What sorts of things?"

"Well, for one thing, the fact that , in another two or three months the
pass will be open enough to get through, and probably a month after that
there'll be hikers on the trail up on the mountain . . . up where your
wrecked car is.  It won't take long after that until the car gets
discovered, and the investigation into your disappearance will be front page
news again, and the focal point of that investigation will be right about
here."

Paula frowned.  "I see.  So, by then I'll either have to go back to being
Paul, or I'll have to be long gone from here."

"Make that `WE'LL have to be long gone'" Rusty replied.  "I don't lie well,
and if anyone starts asking me a bunch of questions, I'm bound to slip up
somewhere with my answers."

Paula considered that for a moment.  "In other words, I've got a hefty
decision to make, and it's a decision that will affect both of our lives."

"Not just our lives, honey.  You decision will affect the lives of your
estranged wife and all the people working at your company, as well.  If you
bring Paul back, you'll take your company back from Patti, and what becomes
of her is another decision you'll have to make.  If you remain as Paula, and
you and I sort of disappear into the sunset, Patti will keep the company and
her freedom."

"I'm not completely sold on either of those options.  There's got to be a
third choice that will allow me to remain Paula, yet still see to it that
Patti pays for her treachery.  I'm not that concerned about the company.
There are good people in positions that'll see to it that Patti can't
completely destroy it, and I can start all over again as Paula, with a new
company.  But the best of both worlds would be for me to be able to remain
Paula, yet see to it that Patti gets what she deserves.  I'm going to have
to think about this for a while.  You say we've got at least two or three
months.  That should give us time to figure out a third option, if one
exists.

"In the meantime, big guy" she continued, reaching down to give his cock a
gentle squeeze, "it looks like this is going to be a snow day for you.
There's no way I'm letting you go out in this weather, so how about us going
back to bed, and you fucking my brains out all day long?"

Rusty grinned, picked her up and started carrying her back to the bedroom.
"I can think of worse ways to spend a day like today!"

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

Days turned into weeks, and the weeks rolled up into months.  For Paula and
Rusty, life was wonderful.  The sex was great . . . at least once, and often
several times a night, with an occasional morning wakeup quickie.  With the
passage of time came a few changes.  Despite her indecision as to whether
she wanted to remain as Paula or revert back to being Paul, she had
continued taking the hormone pills, and they were definitely having some
impact on her.  Some of the changes were such that she wasn't sure whether
they were real or just in her head, but a few of them were definitely quite
real.

Among the changes she thought could just be her imagination were what she
believed to be fewer facial hairs to be plucked, a widening of her hips, a
rounder butt and a perceived reduction in the size of her penis.  She'd
never counted or measured those items before, so she had no baseline to
judge by, but the changes seemed to be very real.  She just felt like she
was filling her panties out better in the rear, and not stretching them as
much in the front.  There was a change in her inner emotions, as well.
Although it was something that was impossible to measure, she felt more
strongly every day that being Paula was "right" for her, and that being Paul
was just plain wrong.

But there were two changes that were most definitely NOT her imagination.
She had real breasts of her own now!  She still padded the bras she wore by
day, but now it was with a pair of homemade falsies that she'd made from a
little bit of foam rubber she'd salvaged from an old pillow, instead of
using Rusty's late sister's breast forms.  There was no longer enough room
in the B-cups of her bras for both the breast forms and her newly-grown
A-cup breasts.  The nipples were larger as well, and far more sensitive.
Rusty had noticed as well, although he hadn't bothered to ask how this
change had come about.  She no longer wore a bra to bed under her negligee,
and Rusty now seemed to derive almost as much pleasure from playing with and
sucking on her tits as he did from fucking her.

And there was the issue of her climaxes.  They seemed far more intense than
before, but she no longer ejaculated.  In fact, she no longer even became
erect during sex.  But, all things taken into consideration, it was overall
a welcome change, despite the fact that she knew the changes . . .
particularly the growth of obviously feminine breasts . . . would make any
possible return to her old life far more difficult.

One early March morning, as they ate their breakfast while watching the
rivulets of water from the melting snow run off the roof, Rusty announced
that he was going to try to get through the pass on the snowmobile, and into
town.  He assured Paula that he wouldn't make the attempt if there was any
real danger of an avalanche, so if he was just a little late getting back it
was more of a sign that he got through to town, rather than a sign of
trouble.  He kissed her, and set off on the trip that she knew wouldn't get
him back home until well after dark.

Of course, her promising to not worry about him, and actually keeping that
promise, were two very different things.  Although she went through her
daily routine as if this were just another day, she couldn't quite get her
mind off of Rusty's venture through the canyon, and all the dangers that
came with it.  And the more she thought about Rusty and his trip, the
hornier she got.  She was close to resorting to the dildo, something she
hadn't done in several months, when she heard the snowmobile approaching in
the distance.

She ran to the door, planning on falling into his arms and smothering him
with kisses as soon as he stepped inside, but she pulled up short when she
realized that there was no room in his arms for her at the moment, loaded
down as they were with packages.  Rusty had made it through and back, and
had done some shopping, as well.  She offered to help him with the packages
while he got his parka off, but he refused, saying they were presents for
her, and he wanted to give them to her in his own way.  So she watched
helplessly as he carefully lowered the packages to the floor beside him and
took off his coat.

She didn't care about presents at the moment.  She was horny as hell, and
tried everything she could think of . . . kissing him, fondling his crotch,
pressing his hand to her breasts, even doing a provocative little bump and
grind for him, ending it with her rear facing to him and lifting her skirt
to show him her round little butt and lacy panties . . . to entice him into
having sex right then and there.  But nothing worked.  He insisted on having
dinner first, then giving her his presents.  "After you've opened your
presents" he told her, "we can engage in all the lovemaking you want.  But
you'll have to keep your panties on until then."

Left with no other choices, she served up their dinners, eating her own very
quickly so as to not delay Rusty's little Santa Claus act one moment past
when he was done eating.  Finally, she was sitting on the small couch as
Rusty went to get the first two packages.

"These are yours to keep regardless of what path you ultimately choose to
follow."  He handed her the first two packages, the first about 12" by 18"
by 6" in size, and the other about a 14" cube.  Both were nicely
gift-wrapped for Christmas, which was now over two months in the past.  She
started to unwrap the cubical one first, but Rusty stopped her.

"Open the other one first, sweetheart.  That one doesn't make any sense
without the other one already opened."

She pulled the wrapping from the rectangular package in two sweeps of her
hand, and opened the cardboard box.  Inside, nestled in handfuls of
bubble-wrap, sat a beautiful new laptop computer.  She squealed with
delight, and set the computer on the table beside her long enough to jump up
and give Rusty a huge kiss on the lips.  Then she set about unwrapping the
second package, which turned out to be a small laser printer.

"Now, before you completely abandon me to become a workaholic, let's get
these last two presents out of the way.  But, there's a catch to these two.
You only get to keep one or the other . . . not both.  And you've already
had plenty of time to think about this, so I'd like a decision tonight as to
which you'll keep and which you'll have me take back."  He handed her two
more packages.  Both were very light, but one was a box about 2 feet square,
and the other much smaller . . . about 3 inches square.

She opted to open the larger package first.  It turned out to be reminiscent
of her worst Christmas nightmare when she was a kid . . . clothes.  She
pulled them out to examine them, one at a time.  A pair of jeans, two pairs
of slacks, two dress shirts, two polo shirts, a pair of dress shoes, a pair
of casual dock shoes, several pairs of socks and a package of underwear.
Her size, but all obviously men's clothes.  She fought hard to contain her
disappointment.  If Rusty was going to buy her clothes, these would NOT be
the ones she would have wanted.  She hadn't thought much, consciously at
least, about what she wanted to do in the spring, but her own immediate
reaction to the male clothes made her realize that she'd already made up her
mind, and these clothes just didn't fit into her desires.  She'd have much
preferred a sexy nightie or some more frilly lingerie.  So, even without
opening the last package, she was pretty sure that it would be the present
she'd want to keep.

Slowly, almost painfully, the wrapping came off the final package.  Whoever
had wrapped it had done a thorough job.  When the wrapping was off, nothing
was revealed except a plain, unmarked cardboard box.  But inside the
cardboard box was another box.  This second box was covered in purple
velvet, and was hinged in the back.  She swung the top up and back to reveal
a gleaming diamond engagement ring!

She was speechless.  She looked up at Rusty, back to the ring, back again to
Rusty, then to the ring again as she pulled it from its velvet nest and slid
it onto the ring finger of her left hand.  She finally found her voice,
although it was really no more than a whisper.

"If this means what I think it means, then my answer is a resounding YES!  I
don't care where we have to go or what we have to do to get it done,
including what needs to be done about my current marriage to Patti.  But . .
. yes!  If this is a backhanded way of proposing to me, then I
wholeheartedly accept!  I'll marry you.  If that's what this means, that
is."

"Oh, that's EXACTLY what it means!  And I think I may have figured out that
third option we started thinking about a few months ago.  A way to kill Paul
off for good, keep Paula, and point the authorities toward Patti, making her
look responsible for Paul's `death'."

"I'm all ears!"  Reluctantly, Paula set aside her new laptop and printer.
Toying absently with the dazzling new jewel adorning her left ring finger,
she sat back to listen to Rusty's plan.

"The first step" he began, "involves that new computer and printer.  We'll
need for you to write a letter to your attorney.  Date it a few days before
you were abducted, and print it out.  Sign it so that whoever sees it will
know that it really came from you.  In it you need to say that you suspect
Patti of having an affair, and that you think she's planning to do something
to you in order to be free of the marriage and still be able to get hold of
most of your wealth.  Ask him to investigate possible loopholes in the
pre-nuptial agreement, and a possible means of getting the marriage
annulled.  Phrase the entire letter to make it look like you suspect that
she's about to do what she ultimately did, and make it clear that you want
him to have your Power of Attorney to handle your affairs in the event that
anything happens to you."

"I'll see to it that the letter . . . signed, sealed and addressed to your
lawyer . . . ends up in your wrecked car up on the mountain to be found by
whoever starts investigating once the car is found in the spring.  We may
still get another snow or two before the final thaw, but I don't think we
can count on that, so I want to be sure that I don't leave any footprints
anywhere nearby.  But Old Lobo is one very smart critter.  I'm pretty sure I
can teach him to deliver the letter and leave it on the floorboards of the
car.  Nobody would think twice about some animal tracks in the area."

"I doubt that the letter alone will be enough to nail Patti to the wall, but
it should be enough to get the authorities looking in the right direction.
Meanwhile, I'll get you out of here as soon as we can get the Wagoneer out
of the barn and out through the pass.  I've got some contacts at a place
where you can lay low until most of the investigation is out of the way, and
I'll come back here and do my best to pretend that I know nothing about a
missing computer nerd."

At the mention of a separation, Paula frowned slightly.  "I don't want to
`lay low' somewhere without you.  Why can't I stay here with you?  Or you
come stay where I'll be?"

Rusty stroked her cheek gently in sympathy.  "Sweetheart, I don't know that
anybody will bother coming around here asking questions, but if they do we
need for things to look as normal as possible.  That means me being here,
and being here alone.  Besides, I get the feeling you and the good folks
where I'm planning on taking you just might have a few things to talk
about."

Paula gave him a quizzical look, but said nothing.

"I've never talked much about my life before I decided to become a recluse
up here in the mountains, and you've never asked.  But there are some things
you should know.  First of all, you should know that I'm a lawyer . . . or
used to be, anyway.  I was a senior partner in the law firm that my father
founded, and while I'm not nearly as rich as you are . . . or were . . . my
income from the partnership without actually working as a lawyer myself is
in the low six-figures range, and I've invested all but what I've needed for
bare essentials.  So I've got a very sizable nest egg put away.  And one of
the clients that I worked with extensively in years past is this place."  At
that he pulled a brochure out of his pocket and handed it to Paula.

"The Stanholtz Clinic?  I never heard of it."  Paula opened the brochure and
glanced at the pictures of what could easily be a ritzy resort . . . or a
rehab center . . . set in wooded seclusion.  The address on the brochure was
a town in Colorado she'd never heard of.  "What do they do there?"

"Well, they do a real professional job on what I believe you've done a
pretty doggone good job of as a do-it-yourselfer.  They're a gender identity
clinic.  Among other things, they do Gender Reassignment Surgery . . . if
that's the path you want to take.  If not, they can help you with your
self-administered hormone therapy."  Rusty gave Paula a knowing wink.
"They're the top research facility in the country for this type of thing.  I
did the paperwork to help them get set up a decade ago, and my firm helps
them with the identification paperwork for their clients."

"You mean these people at the Stanholtz Clinic can help remake my body while
your law firm helps make a new identity for me?  I can actually start a new
life as Paula Taylor?"  Then, admiring her new ring, she added "Or,
actually, as Paula MacDonald, I guess."

"Well, we'd probably have to give you a different last name until we can
actually get married.  Pick one that you like.  Maybe your mother's maiden
name, or your grandmother's.  You may have to live with it for a while until
we get all the legal intricacies straightened out, so it's got to be
something you feel comfortable with.  There are a lot of little things, like
getting Paul declared legally dead and getting the marriage to Patti
annulled, so that you don't end up making yourself guilty of bigamy . . .
not that I'd ever tell anyone.  But it wouldn't look right for me to
suddenly reappear out of the boondocks with a new wife.  We'll have to take
it one step at a time, but that letter, I think, is the first big step."

Within minutes, Paula had the laptop fired up, and was busy composing the
letter that would forever change her life.  But not before she and Rusty
enjoyed a "quickie", right on the living room floor.