Transitioning Home
by poetheather

For Sergeant Thomas Simmons, getting injured in Iraq was just the start of an adventure that would throw him down the rabbit hole into a world where nothing made sense anymore. Having to restart his life, this soldier has to take his battlefield courage and turn it to a different arena in order to face this newest set of challenges. He just wonders if he is strong enough to handle this newest change in his life.

Eight

Thomas collapsed into the front seat of his car, his head back against the headrest. His eyes burned from all the crying he had done and so did his face, from the salt of the tears. He felt horrible both inside and out. He was a monster for killing a child. A monster. There was no forgiving him for that.

However, the Doc did say that things just happened and tried to get him to see the whole situation differently, from a different point of view. But Thomas just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Not only was he some sort of screwed up sissy but he was also a child killer. There really was no good place for him.

His body shook as he sobbed, tears falling again. Thomas started the car and drove slowly, as he was having trouble seeing through his tears. He had to get out of there. Pulling over was not an option, as he really wanted to just get back to the apartment in Clarksville and close himself off from the rest of the world. No one should have to put up with him, to be tainted by him. He was dirty and doubted that he would ever get clean again.

After a long and scary drive back from Nashville, Thomas practically stumbled into the apartment, as he hobbled so fast that he almost tripped. He dropped his keys twice in his hurry to get in, as he fumbled with them, trying to get the house key. He slammed the door behind him and collapsed onto the sofa heavily. Why did he have to be so fucked up? Why did he have to panic and kill that kid? Why did he have to deal with these fucked up urges to dress like a girl, to be a girl? Was he just some sort of twisted psychopath? Some sort of degenerate? What the fuck was he?

Thomas cried into a pillow, not wanting anyone else to have to hear his misery, to have to deal with him. If only there were some sort of way for him to get away from everything for a while and let him get his head straight, if that were even possible. There was nothing he could do and no place that he could go to get away from the thoughts that were tormenting him.

And to go shopping? For girls things? Was Thomas ready to deal with that? Did he even want to? Did he even deserve to? He was here, alive, and that little girl wasn’t. And it was all his fault. She died because of him. There was no way he could avoid the weight of that responsibility. He had killed her, afraid that he was being flanked, afraid of the death he so desperately craved. He yearned for death but was too chicken shit to kill himself. And even if he did manage to kill himself, like it would do anything to fix things. She would still be gone and he would still be responsible.

Thomas lay down on the couch and wept out the rage, frustration, and shame of everything he was dealing with, it felt like it was oozing out of him, squeezed out with his tears. Eventually, the exhaustion of sleepless nights and crying took their toll on him and Thomas fell asleep clutching the throw pillow tight in his arms, his face buried into the fabric, soaking it with his crying. He lay there limp, like a puppet with cut strings.

He came awake as someone was shaking him. He looked up at them, bleary eyed and saw that what’s her name was standing over him looking worried. He couldn’t figure out why she was here, in his apartment until he remembered that he had given Deborah a key to his place in a moment of weakness. Her concern for him was plain in her voice, but he really didn’t care right then. “Hey there sweetie… are you okay?”

He smiled weakly. There was no way in hell he was going to tell the blonde what was really going on with him. “I guess. My nightmares have been getting bad again and the images just won’t leave me alone. I guess it is some sort of flashback type thing as a part of my PTSD. It hasn’t been easy to deal with, but the shrink that the VA is having me talk to is helping. Today things were just overwhelming.”

Deborah smiled at him and sat down at the edge of the couch. She rubbed his back and he really liked that feeling. It gave him a pleasant shiver up and down his spine that really made him relax into the sensation. It was really soothing and pretty much what he needed right then. “Awww honeybear, I am so sorry that you have to deal with all of this. Is there anything I can do?”

“Naw, I think I’m pretty much as okay as I’m gonna get right now.” Thomas smiled a little. She may have been annoying at some times but she did do a lot to make him feel good and she really was great in bed. She was also okay with the fact that he seriously had some trouble being able to have sex in the missionary position due to both his leg and hand injury. All in all, the situation wasn’t too bad for him. If he could manage to remember her name most of the time then things would be fine.

Deborah usually showed up when she was horny and that suited him just fine. He didn’t mind being a booty call, because that was what he thought about her. The last thing he wanted was to get into something serious, though he really couldn’t think of any good reason for giving her a key. That basically meant that any sense of privacy was completely shot to hell unless he remembered to put on the chain. But that wasn’t important right now. Right now, she was making him feel good. Wait…he remembered her name. “Deb, could you give me a massage? That always helps me relax a good bit more and that might make it easier for me to do something later tonight.”

She nodded and moved, so Thomas could slide down to the floor. He sat there and enjoyed the feel of her hands on his back and shoulders. They felt really good and all the attention did help to draw away the tension that all of the days activities had caused. While the hands weren’t all that strong they still did the job that he needed and seemed to find the tense spots even he wasn’t aware of.

He sighed, letting his breath out slowly, feeling some of the day’s tension fade. Maybe seeing her more often would allow him to actually relax? But would she really feel like doing this for him all the time? Would she be able to deal with all the shit he was going through, especially the crazy parts? Thomas really wasn’t sure and didn’t want to set himself up for more pain. Maybe he should break it off.

Deborah was really a nice girl but there was still that worry that something was going to go horribly wrong. Rhymer just knew that she would freak if she knew he was a baby killer, that he wanted to be a girl. But did he? Was this really what he wanted? What did he want? He needed to get his thoughts to stop running in circles and she was not really helping with that.

Deborah continued to massage his back, running her hands under his shirt. He could feel the change in her touch, from soothing to arousing. The touch was lighter, more playful and occasionally she ran her hands under his pants and the band of his BVD’s. All the worries about the little girl, about his seeming urge to be a girl faded away in the rush that ran through him when he realized what Deb wanted. He grew hard, which was uncomfortable in his jeans and with lying on the ground it only made things worse. He turned over to get more comfortable and she straddled Thomas, smiling broadly.

She bent down slowly, and Thomas raised his head into her kiss. They both opened their mouths and intertwined their tongues, moaning happily into each other’s mouth. She started rocking her hips, grinding against his painfully hard penis. Deb made this cute growling noise which Thomas liked and grabbed Thomas’s wrists tightly, holding him down on the carpeted floor. She rode him, growling, kissing, biting, nibbling, and moaning on him. Thomas felt a deep throaty groan of pleasure force its way out of his throat. Deborah took his bottom lip on her teeth and tugged gently. It was a new sensation and Thomas decided that he liked it, a lot. That was his last truly rational thought and he simply tumbled down into the depths of pleasure, his senses overloading.

* * * * *

Deborah had left a little while ago and Thomas just lay in bed, gazing up at the ceiling, with its sprayed on popcorn texture. He had a faint smile turning up the corners of his mouth just a little. The sex had been unexpected and nice, he had enjoyed her being on top of him, holding his hands down, restraining him. He could have easily tossed her off of him but the holding of his wrists let him submerge himself into the sensations and that was something he had really enjoyed. He much preferred to feel himself being pleasured rather than the mix of sensations and actions that was with more normal lovemaking. However, he wasn’t sure he wanted to delve deeper into that, as he didn’t need to add submissive onto his list of perversions. He was weird enough.

Thomas remembered the Doc telling him that he should go and do something nice for himself. His first though was to go out and get something to eat at a nice restaurant, like one of the chain restaurants that were over by the mall. The steak houses were really good and certainly gave you a lot of food. But maybe he could do something different, like to go get a massage, or a facial, or something else along those lines.

As Thomas thought things over he realized that maybe the massage would be best. Debra’s massage had been nice and all but it only made him want more, something deeper, stronger. That might be the best treat he could give himself, something that let him relax and let his muscles relax as well. And the whole thing might be able to relax him enough that he could go into a store, buy some panties and a nightgown and leave. Act as if the whole thing were no big deal, as if it didn’t terrify him. Maybe he could go to one of the stores in the mall right afterwards? It was just like a plan.

He found a phone book he had apparently tossed off under the coffee table and snagged it. Thomas flipped through it until he found what he wanted. He had to use the rough map of the city in the phone book to figure out where some of the places were but that was easy after using military maps. It gave him a rough placement and that should be good enough. He chose the one that was easiest to drive to and was still close to the mall, which was a place along Wilma Rudolph Boulevard. That way he could do the shopping immediately while he was still relaxed. Making an appointment was the next step, so he called to check if they had time to see him tomorrow or the day after. They did, so Rhymer made the appointment for an hour long massage and sat back smiling. Maybe this would be a lot of fun and give him the courage to face the lingerie section of a department store. He had no idea why it scared him so, but it felt like it was going to be tougher than charging a sniper.

* * * * *

Thomas had a big smile on his face as he hobbled to the car. A one-hour massage would be so nice and just the thing he needed after the last few days. He could almost feel the relaxed, jello-like muscles that he was sure to get out of this and it made him want to go faster. This would definitely qualify as a treat.

As he didn’t have to race anywhere, Thomas was able to drive with what passed as slow for him. At least he was close to the speed limit, rather than quite a bit over it as he was trying so hard to remain calm over the idea of a good rub. He chuckled as he drove past a speed trap at the speed limit. He hadn’t seen the cops position, but it had a clear view of all the other cars heading the same way. Maybe this day wouldn’t be as bad as he had been afraid of. After all, he had just avoided a ticket.

The massage place seemed nice enough, thought he did get worried when he saw the rainbow flag hanging in the window. This place was obviously gay friendly. He wasn’t sure if he could handle having some gay guy rub on him. That would just creep him out. He could probably handle a lesbian, even one of those scary bull dykes, but not some limp wrested faggot. It wasn’t that he didn’t like gays, but they made him nervous. Just the thought of two guys kissing and making out like he and Debra had turned his stomach. If they left him alone then he could leave them alone. That was his stand on the matter. However, given what he was dealing with at the moment… maybe he might need to rethink that opinion?

Thomas sat there in the waiting room, flipping through a magazine, waiting to see whoever was going to work on him. The guy who walked out to give him his massage was about six feet tall and maybe three feet across at the shoulder. He was ripped and just huge. However, there was something about him that just screamed out ‘GAY’ to Thomas, some sort of vibe that he gave off that made Thomas want to squirm away. He walked up to Thomas and held out his hand. “Hello. My name is Mike. If you are Thomas then you are my next appointment. Let’s go.”

The voice was a deep bass that surprised Thomas. There was also no sign of a lisp and that hand shake had been quite firm. Thomas wasn’t sure what to say. This guy was huge and seemed to have muscles on top of muscles. The man’s goatee and thick black hair in a short cut looked great. Thomas was definitely a bit jealous of how Mike looked. Mike seemed utterly masculine, unlike Thomas. He wondered why he hadn’t turned out like that, all buff and manly instead of small and scrawny. He smiled faintly and said, “Uh… yes. That’s me.”

“Come on, follow me.” Mike led Thomas through a corridor, past two doors and then opened the third. “Please undress, lie face down on the table and make sure to cover yourself with the sheet. Once you are ready I will come back in and start the massage.”

With that, Mike left Thomas alone in the dimly lit massage room. The room was dominated by the massage table, which did look comfy draped with sheets. There was a shelf that held a few types of oil and a few lotions. Ambient soothing music was playing rather softly. Thomas had never heard anything like what was coming out of the speakers and he relaxed some. He liked the music and made him feel good.

Nervously, Thomas undressed down to his underwear, folding his clothes and placing them on the only chair in the room. He climbed onto the table and awkwardly pulled the sheet over himself, which was a bit painful with his leg and arm. The head support looked odd but did feel fairly good as he rested his face on it. It squished his face but wasn’t really all that uncomfortable. He lay there for a short while before there was a soft knock at the door, which was easy to hear in the mostly quiet room. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” called out Thomas, still a little unsure of this but definitely interested enough in getting a massage to give the whole thing a try. If it helped the pain of his arm or leg then it would definitely have been worth all the discomfort.

Mike walked in and shut the door. He said professionally, “Okay. So you said on your form that you have a bad leg and shoulder from an injury. Chronic pain as well. I think we might be able to do something about that. Let’s get to work.”

The sound of a pump squirting out oil was the only sound Thomas could hear besides the faint music. Then the sheet over one foot was flipped back. The oil had warmed in Mike’s hands and it felt good as he rubbed it in. Thomas slowly relaxed as Mike worked on his feet and up his legs. Mike had strong hands, able to work out the kinks and knots that made up Thomas’s back. He was enjoying this so much that he was even able to forget that Mike seemed to be gay.

He woke up, a bit surprised, blinking as he looked around the room trying to figure out what had happened. Mike was gone and he lay there on the table alone. His leg didn’t ache as much as it had when he had gotten here and he felt really relaxed. He rubbed his eyes, helping wake himself up a bit more and he started to get dressed. He noticed that his limp wasn’t as pronounced as it had been when he had gotten there and he really liked that. This certainly made Thomas feel better about the cost and the feeling a bit creeped out. Mike was waiting for him by the cash register talking with the Goth girl who also seemed to work there. Thomas smiled at Mike as he walked up. “That was really great Mike. Thank you. My leg doesn’t hurt as much as it did and I feel totally relaxed.”

Mike smiled brightly, happy to hear the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad that I could help Thomas. You know… if you could manage to do this somewhat regularly, like once a week, it might help your back to loosen up, as well as your hip and shoulder. Think about it and if you want to, give us a call.”

They made some small talk as Thomas paid the bill and made another appointment for a week from then. He had the money to do things like this, due to the settlement from the Army but he did want to be careful with the money but as long as he didn’t go crazy he would have a good amount of money for a while. That was a measure of security that he really enjoyed and was something he didn’t miss about living at home.

* * * * * *

Dillards was a major mall store and definitely not somewhere Rhymer would normally go to shop, which he thought was a good thing. That should add a good bit to his not being noticed, at least that was the plan. He had his list with sizes and such and he figured he would look like he was trying to buy something for his ‘girlfriend’ if anyone asked, which he prayed no one would. He entered from the parking lot and looked around the store, trying to spot the ‘Lingerie” section or ‘Intimates’ or whatever the hell that section was called. He wandered about the store a bit before he spotted the sign and the wall of lace that encircled it. He closed his eyes and steeled his courage. If he could charge Iraqis he could do this.

The panties were fairly easy and painless to get, as he grabbed several different styles, fabrics, and colors based on what the size was that the Doc had told him. They looked nice and were interesting, but he hadn’t really lingered in the area all that much, not wanting to look like some sort of pervert. In total, he had about eight pairs of panties in his hands now. Some were cotton and others silk or satin and there were different styles. He would have gotten more but he drew the line at thongs. The whole idea of purposely wearing butt floss squicked him a bit. Who would want to wear anything like that? Surely it couldn’t feel good, could it? Thomas really didn’t want to find out the answer to that.

Getting a nightgown proved to be a good bit more difficult a problem for him. It wasn’t that there were too many options to choose from, but rather too many of the nightgowns available he really liked the look of and kind of wanted. He lingered there longer than he did around the panties. Finally, he chose a black satin gown with spaghetti straps that he thought looked really nice and feminine. It did have a little lace at the bust line, but not so much that it was overwhelming. Thomas thought it was sexy and wanted to feel the material against his skin. He had always liked the feel of Satin or Silk and had slept with several girls who wore such nightgowns. It made him a bit nostalgic.

Once he had completed his task, Thomas tucked his list into his back pocket and headed towards the register. He did have enough cash in his wallet for his purchases to get all the items he had selected but there wouldn’t be a lot left over. That would be nice, so there would be nothing that could say that he had been there, no credit card receipt or check and he could just refuse a receipt. That would certainly hide things.

The sales person didn’t even look at him oddly as she rang his things up, instead having the slightly bored look most people in such stores had. After wrapping the nightgown in tissue and bagging all the items, she wished Thomas a good day and thanked him for shopping there. She turned away and helped someone else with their purchase forgetting about him almost immediately. He had done it.

Thomas was really nervous as he drove home, sure that people could tell that he had bought panties and a nightgown for himself. He almost felt as if there were some sort of sign or broadcast about the event. He drove with the same sense of paranoia filling him, like the one time he had driven after drinking two beers. Every driver who looked over at Thomas seemed to be disapproving, judging him, which only added to the paranoia that gripped him. He felt exposed, almost as if there were someone aiming at him with a rifle and there was no cover in sight. He drove a bit faster, weaving through traffic as best he could without drawing more attention to himself. He managed to get back to his apartment in one piece even though he had not been driving at his best. There had been no sign of pursuit and he hadn’t been shot at by anyone along the way.

Hobbling in quickly and checking to make sure he hadn’t been followed or if there were any Republican Guard members out there, he quickly closed the door behind him. He double-checked the door, making sure it was locked, and the chain on the door was latched. With that, Thomas paused and looked outside through the blinds, trying to open them just enough to see out of but not enough to mark himself as a target. Instead of tan, sun leached buildings and the sand of Iraq, there were the parked cars and trees of Tennessee. He blinked, confused from around the corner, looking out through the side of the window. Something wasn’t right here and he was having a little trouble figuring out what it could be. He wished he was armed. Having his rifle would have made him feel so much better. Hell, even a basic sidearm might be a good idea at this point.

When Thomas calmed down enough to leave the window, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a long pull from it, throwing the pop top into the trashcan after he twisted it off. He sighed, tired of all of this crap, chiding himself over his belief that he had been back in Iraq. He had thought he had gotten better, that the PTSD had gone away, or at least had faded to where it wasn’t bothering him any more, but it was clear that wasn’t the case. Thomas shook a little, as panic still filled him, urging him to flee, to fight, to do anything but just sit there to try and deal with this. He struggled to remain seated even though he wanted to pace around the room and look outside, to see if anyone was watching. When it got too bad, he managed to force himself into the bathroom to go after his meds. There was an anti-anxiety med that should help with this, and he hoped they would kick in quickly. He took another swallow of beer to try and clam his nerves down.

Thomas shook as he waited for the meds to do something, trying to keep from letting the paranoia take control of things. Thomas hadn’t felt like this since a couple of episodes he had endured when he had been at Walter Reed after coming home. It had been bad right after he had gotten back from the sandbox, especially the feelings of paranoia and anger. Cold water splashed onto his face helped a little to bring him back to the here and now and he did that a few times to try and clear his head, rubbing his face and looking at his reflection. As he went back into the living room, he noticed that he had thrown the deadbolt and used the chain to keep everything out. Thomas sighed as he looked at that sign of his fear and thought with some consolation. ‘At least Debra can’t get in.’

It took a while but the meds finally kicked in and he calmed down, his heart no longer racing and his breathing no longer tight. He no longer had the urge to get a weapon of some sort and take up a security position in his living room, making a defensive position out of his couch. Yet again he asked the eternal question, “Why me?”

There was no answer, only the sound of the cars on the street outside. He hobbled over to the computer and booted it up. Once it had started up, he opened his browser and started looking at his email. It was simple and mundane and helped to calm the last bit of him that was still jangled and riled from earlier. It did make him a little happy when the jittery paranoid feeling faded completely. At least that particular bit of suffering ended enough for now that he could think clearly again.

After that, he closed the browser and pulled the file up with his journal. Fingers clicking the keys, Rhymer, the desert survivor, put down the events of the day and how he felt about them. Things had been going well until he had left Dillards and that feeling of being watched, of everyone knowing what he had bought, sort of filled him and took over. The stress of buying the panties and nightgown had probably triggered the flashback. It was the best reasoning he could think of which was still kind of weird.

Once done, he closed the file and made his way into the bedroom carrying the bag he had dropped on the couch when he had rushed in. He removed the panties and the nightgown gently and laid them carefully on the bed. He stood and stared at them. They were all really nice and he had a slight shiver of pleasure roll up his spine at the thought that they were now his. Thomas was unsure why that was, but he accepted it as best he could despite how strange he thought it was. He closed his eyes, breathed deep, and let out his breath out slowly, trying to calm down further. His nervousness grew as he thought about what his Doc had suggested he do with these things. Was he honestly going to put on women’s clothes? Was he really going to dress up like a fairy? He shook his head to clear those thoughts.

Thomas picked up a pair of panties and rubbed the material between his fingers. They were smooth, soft, and made Thomas think of some of the underwear various girlfriends had worn over the years. The cotton slid under his fingers and there was a moment of pause where he drifted into a daydream, seeing himself different from before. An image of himself as a woman, rather than as a man, pulling the panties up his/her legs, settling the smooth blue cotton that he was holding on her/his hips. While he was lost in that image, he undressed and pulled the panties on. The material was slightly warmed by his hands but still gave Thomas a shiver, and not just from their slight chill.

Thomas slid out of the semi-dream state he had gone into and looked down at himself. The material certainly looked a bit different from the cotton of his tidy whitieys and somehow the colored panties looked right on him. He felt good and relaxed. A little awkward with his penis bulging out at the front, but basically he felt good. It was certainly unexpected but it felt right or, more to the point, not wrong. The growing erection surprised him though. It didn’t have the complete urge for him to masturbate and get off that was the norm, but he was getting harder, clearly turned on by these. Thomas didn’t mind and he stood there looking down at himself for a bit, kind of stunned that he had actually put on women’s clothes and had not been at gun point.

With a tug, he got his jeans back up his legs and was taken aback by the way the jeans and panties felt together. He could feel the denim almost clearly through the panties, as the fabric was a good bit thinner than his briefs. It was nice but again different. He put his panties away, tucked at the back of his underwear drawer and under other stuff, and put the nightgown with his other pajamas, again at the bottom. It wasn’t a great hiding place however a better hiding spot would require him to be a bit more flexible than he currently was. The safety wasn’t worth the grief.

Holding his cane tightly, he limped into the living room. With a thoughtful glance towards his kitchen, Thomas realized he had no interest in cooking tonight. There had been too much stuff in his day to want to bother with this mundane task and he just couldn’t bring himself to add to his stress with trying to make non ramen food.

With a sigh, he grabbed his keys and tried to figure out where he wanted to go and get dinner. There were certainly a lot of options in the base town but he wasn’t sure where to go. As he drove, Thomas settled on one of the mid-level places, good food but not costly and about a step up from fast food. He slowly forgot what he was wearing under his jeans under the normality of his evening.