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!