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I was thoroughly confused at this point. Rhonda seemed way, way not the type to basically rape me. Beth... well, I don't think she would rape me... but then again, would she see what happened as rape? Also, I had no real evidence in either direction. There were, literally, hundreds of women on the island. With the size of the spa, I was estimating that the employee count was, at the very minimum, 200. Easily, I could be looking at double that number. I'd seen quite a few men at different times, too, just not near the guests, normally. That meant that there were probably more that I had not seen. And each one could represent a family.

I realized I was entertaining paranoia. I had no real hope of determining who had been the woman to tie me up and have sex with me. Smell is a powerful sense but I was no bloodhound. Also, the realty was that it did not have to be one of the clients.

Another thought hit me. If both women smelled so similar, it could have been a service they had received that used some product that caused them to smell alike. Argh! My mind was going in looping circles and I was tired of being suspicious.

As we reached the bungalow, I hugged Rhonda good night. Tomorrow as our last day on the island. In fact, we were going to have a breakfast and a going-away hair and face makeup session, take photos, and leave.

I would be home in time to get grilled for supper. Oh joy. I went into my room and stared thoughtfully at the door. I locked it, then I blockaded it with a chair stuffed under the door knob. Then I went to my luggage and got out a flashlight from my gear. I carefully searched each and every closet, alcove, nook and cranny in the entire bed & bath area. I even picked up the mattress and box springs and made sure no one was hiding in the platform area under the bed. On a lark, I checked for floor and ceiling access, too, but found no trapdoors. I checked the windows but they were permanently sealed due to their non-opening design.

Finally satisfied that I was alone and unlikely to be disturbed for the night, I set an alarm and went to bed, though only after a thorough facial cleansing and a shower.

The next morning, I rose early and showered. I had realized by now that the hair extensions were fused to my real hair, so now I was dealing with long, slightly wavy hair to the bottoms of my shoulder blades. I played with it briefly, then noticed an assortment of hair management items in a vanity drawer. I twirled it into a bun, as I had been shown the day before, and poked a pair of chopsticks through it. I put on shorts and a t-shirt that the spa had supplied in my size, and slipped my feet into a pair of thong flip-flops.

By the time the standard wake up call came, I was dressed and packed and had made some coffee in the little kitchenette between the rooms and was reading. I found out from the woman giving the wakeup calls that I could get an early breakfast while everyone else got ready for the day.

I thoroughly horrified the entire staff by showing up at the dining pavilion carrying my own luggage (not like there was enough to even notice! I told them that if they let me keep the shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops, I would let them cart my things around all they liked!

Assured that I could keep the outfit, I ordered a western omelet and wheat toast with their breakfast blend coffee and let them put my belongings away for the trip home. I made sure to hang on to a tote bag with my valuables, phone, and reading materials.

When I was done eating, I was offered a trip to the nail salon, something no one else would get, due to time constraints. I went ahead and took the opportunity, though I restricted them to no extensions and only clear polish. The pouting I encountered, though, continued until I relented enough for them to give me American nails instead of plain.

My nails finished drying about the time everyone else finished eating and I joined them for the hair and face treatments. Once again, I faced concentrated pouting over not allowing them to do their finest work on my face, but I was remaining resolute... until Rhonda and Beth both ganged up on me with them, promising to give me a place to undo the damge before I went home.

My hair was attacked while my face was being discussed. Oddly enough, the extensions were removed. As it turned out, they were worried that I would not keep them up enough so they did some trimming here and there while I was distracted by the argument concerning my face. When they sensed I was wavering (and realized what the hair team was doing) they told me they would let me think and come back to me. The hair team began washing my hair “to remove the trimmings”. They put earbuds in my ears playing soft music and massaged my scalp and when I woke up, they were drying my new perm with foil color and highlights. When they let me use a mirror, I saw the face team had had their way with me.

Now while I appreciated how un-ugly I was now, and how much talent had been expended on me, I had pretty much given up on ever transitioning and now I was going home, literally, looking like a woman.

I got up from the chair very miffed, but trying to hide it. Rhonda appeared from nowhere, traveling at about mach 1.3, and slammed into me from one side, hugging me like crazy. Beth, not to be outdone, pounced from the other side, at only mach 1.1, but with greater mass. Rhonda piped up first with, “You look so great! I think you might be the prettiest one of us all!”

Beth just leaned in and nibbled and kissed me behind the ear then whispered, “All you need is that magic corset to be done. That is, until you get your boob job that I'm buying you, then you will really be “done”.

My carefully shaped eyebrows rose into the stratosphere. Just then, the other girls came up to me, ohing and ahing, though I heard the corset mentioned again. To my dismay, so did Rhonda. Now that the subject was out in the open, called one of the attendants over and called for my “magic corset”. In only a few minutes, she and Rhonda had my t-shirt off and the corset on, and the hair team was repairing my hair as the t-shirt went back on.

[SIGH!]

With my hairless body, new-found curves, feminine hair style, and screen-star makeup, I was pretty much unable to be anyone but Misty. Not to mention that they had the corset tight enough that I felt dizzy from lack of air.

I sighed again. Since they were both hugging me again, Rhonda and Beth started asking me what was wrong. I shook my head. “It's complicated. The person in my head has been a woman all her life. But she has had to make a lot of decisions counter to that in order to have what appeared to be a normal life according to the male body in which she lived. It has taken several years , but now she is within reach of having the body she has needed and wanted all her life. But, a lot of people close to her will be hurt. None of them will not understand, even if they do try to overlook it. Most will take it as a personal attack, even though it has nothing to do with them. I may not have a place to sleep tonight. I don't think it will knock me out of a job, but I wonder if I have killed any chances I have for advancement? How do I deal with the estrangement of my family and friends? I feel like such a fake and a failure because I have wanted this all my life and I don't know if I can do it now that it is almost mine.”

Of course, the limo drove up just then. All the other women put me in the limo and surrounded me on the way to the airport. I guess I don't need to mention that Rhonda was pressed to me on one side, and Beth on the other. Things were suggested all the way to the airport. The ideas ranged from: fake my own death to immediately getting on a plane for Thailand as soon as we landed, to Rhonda's and Beth's firm insistence that I simply present myself as is and weather the storm as best I could. If that didn't work, Beth was single and very happy with the idea of me staying with her. I knew why Beth was pressuring me, but Rhonda made it clear that she felt that what other people thought should not keep me from being me.

Beth also made it clear that not only did she support me emotionally, but would help me transition in any way she could. When the other women heard this, they chimed in with like sentiments. It only took them a few minutes to decide that they would all accompany me to my house and help present the new me. I was starting to wonder with friends like them....? I sent a text to Elise mentioning I was in the midst of a small crisis and wondered if she could meet me at the mall later.

The other women obviously all felt that the matter was settled. Therefore, they immediately began forming contingency plans. They even included me to the point of asking where I wanted to go to celebrate if I was thrown out of my own house. Oh joy.

I could only hope that Elise could help me hold together though the coming storm.

Eventually, we made it to the airport. The spa had attendants to make sure we were enplaned as quickly and smoothly as possible. I never saw my luggage from the time I sat down to breakfast until I got to the baggage carousel back home. The flight was long and thankfully smooth and uneventful. My mind was too absorbed for me to be able to enjoy the movies or my books or magazines or to even nap, though I tried all that.

What did happen was that Rhonda sat on one side of me, and Beth the other. Rhonda, bless her heart, slept all the way back. Beth, on the other hand, craned her neck the entire 6 hours and whispered all the things she wanted to do to my body. And not in the bedroom. Evidently her settlement from her divorce was sizable. What was also evident was that she was at least bi, if not completely lesbian. I also suspected she was fairly horny.

I was forced to believe she was infatuated with me. The question was what to do about it? I could relax and enjoy it. Being asexual did not mean I was unable to appreciate the act, just that I did not seek actively seek sex. I suppose that would be OK so long as I made it clear that it was meaningless. For some reason, that felt wrong. I could reject her outright, but then, if I discovered later that we had “chemistry”, she might reject me out of a sense of revenge. That was also wrong. What I wanted was for her to give me some breathing room until I had my head fixed, but I had no idea how to tell her that without making her feel like I was rejecting her [see above].

I sighed a truly massive sigh, but as much as possible, I stifled it from being noticed. Life as a woman would not be any easier as a women. I could only hope it would be more rewarding

PART II — The End of the Beginning

As the wheels of the wide-body jet touched down with only a minor bounce, Beth and Rhonda both lifted their heads from my shoulders. I had been too worried to sleep.

Everyone else on the plane was crazy getting ready to get off the plane. I knew better. I convinced Rhonda and Beth to wait quietly with me. 20 minutes later, we were almost done taxiing to the gates. The people who had been in a hurry were flustered and frustrated while the three of us were calm. Most of the rest of the group of us from the spa had also followed my lead. I had reminded them that the spa company had flown 2 attendants back with us and they were to give us a limo ride back to the mall to get our vehicles. I also informed them that we most likely did not even need to worry with luggage until the mall, but that we could ask on the concourse.

Rhonda laid her head back down on my chest and then popped back up like a Jack-in-the-box. “Misty! Why is your heart pounding so loudly and quickly?”

I managed to shush her gently as I explained, “I am very, very nervous and anxious about leaving as a man and returning as a woman. I had no plans or ideas that such a thing would happen. I have wished for this since I was four, but now that it is happening, I am not prepared. I mean, I love the fact that I am not ugly any more [insert booing and hissing here] but I guess I am still suffering some system shock.”

“Oh darling!,” Beth exclaimed, “I'll take care of you!” The other women all chimed in to one degree or another.

Finally, the plane docked at the gate and the flight attendants cranked open the door. By now, people were lined up in both aisles from one end of the plane to the other. The nine of use had our tiny bits of carry-on items in our laps, and our two spa attendants, were sitting together, waiting with smiles on our faces. The grumpy people in line were mystified, for the most part, though a few professional people and other frequent travelers had chosen the same approach.

When the line had thinned out, as the people waiting were scurrying around to different overhead bins to get the last of their carry-ons, we joined the line and strutted out in all our glory. Elise was waiting on the concourse for us. I recognized her but she didn't recognize me. I slipped over and asked if she thought I could keep my job as I was. She blinked then gasped then squealed and then practically jumped into my arms and hugged me.

The other women were curious by then. Elise and I between us managed to explain our relationships. Elise was quickly made our groups 10th member and came with us.

The attendants with us conducted us to a luxurious private lounge to keep us in comfort until our luggage was tended. Once they received that notice, they took us back to the concourse where where electric carts carried us to a waiting limo. We were reassured all our parcels had been successfully recovered and were already on the way to the mall to be sorted. Elise had taken a taxi to the airport as I had suggested in my text so she was able to ride with us.

The limo efficiently transported us to the mall and the appointed parking area. Several men stood by waiting to load our respective goods into our respective vehicles.

As I had taken almost nothing, that is what I had expected to bring back, too. The small mountain of parcels stacked near my trunk was surprising. When I asked the porter why all those things were by my car, he nodded to one of the attendants that had flown back with us, who then waved the other women over to us.

Her name turned out to be Zaida. When she spoke, it was with a soft, lyrical Hispanic accent and an amused tone, “Ladies, when the spa first found out about Misty, not much was really thought of it because women have been duping their husbands into coming out for years, sometimes getting almost as much of a makeover as Misty did. However, none of them have been the ringing success of our dear Misty. She quietly became a favorite of ours for her quiet, unassuming grace and winning personality. She was cordial to the staff in a personal way and seemed to go out of her way to treat both guests and staff as well as she could in any given circumstance. Then we found out that she was going home to a possibly hostile environment. In response, the spa has given her everything she wore on site, as we did for the rest of you, but also, we have included for her small but complete wardrobe and a set of makeup.”

From out of nowhere, Taleejah, Serena, and Sasha appeared. Serena cleared her throat to say, “Misty has set a high standard for how we will measure graciousness in the future. In view of that, if she finds her circumstances to be overly negative, we are prepared to offer her a place on staff at the spa. The ladies here with me tonight are all her fans and she is welcome to visit us at any time with no reservation.”

Beth quickly stepped up beside Serena, blurting, “She has a place with me anyway I can get her, anytime I can get her!”

Elise just giggled softly and started clapping, which was quickly echoed by the other women. Wearing shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops, I aptly demonstrated the concept of the full-body blush once again.

Rhonda put in her two-cents worth with, “OK ladies, get your things loaded, we have to gather up and go with Misty to confront her family and find out if she still has a family or if she is starting completely over in her new life. I think we should just meet back here in an hour. Can everyone do that?”

There was a low-key riot as things were loaded into vehicles (thanks guys!) and the time was changed to an hour and a half. Elise was with me and I was not going anywhere, yet, so we went back in the mall to kill 90 minutes. This was my first chance to relate the weekend to her, and how it all came about.

We spent 45 minutes in a food-court coffee house with me just trying to fill her in and her asking an occasional clarifying question to catch her up from when she saw me last on Friday of the previous week to when I saw her at the airport earlier that afternoon. When I finally finished, she took me back out to the car and had me find the clothes I had worn to the formal on Friday night. She also found the roll-around with my new collection of makeup. Once we had everything in hand, we went back to a ladies room in the mall and once I was in the dress and shoes, she repaired my hair and makeup.

One look in the mirrors was all it took to convince me that I looked as good as I was going to get. Thanks to the corset and the careful cut of the dress, anyone who didn't know me (and quite a few people who did!) would just assume I was a woman dressed up for a nice night. However, I made the mistake of saying, “wow, I am quite a bit less ugly, now!” in front of Elise.

She rounded on me with a glare that could melt steel. Rut roh, Reoge!

“How can you look at yourself in the mirror and say 'less ugly'? Do you realize how beautiful you are? I hope you have some practice dealing with horny men because that is what you are going to get, looking like that!”

My vision began going slightly cloudy at the point.

“I'm sure you will attract some gentlemen, too. And if you treat them all the same, I'll beat you with your own high heeled shoe!” Her expression was livid, but now she'd pushed one of my buttons.

“Of blarging course I'll treat them all the same. They. Are. Men. As much as possible I will ignore them and otherwise I'll pay them the minimum attention I can and not get myself killed. Period. I am here as a woman for me not for anyone else and fudge bunnies on anyone who doesn't like that.”

She smirked. “If you think you can pull that off, you are a better woman than me. Better than most, in fact. You may be picking yourself apart in that mirror. You may think you are 'less ugly' or... what words would you use? 'Semi-cute'? Something like that? Well, a lot of men are going to think you are just plain pretty. Some will think you are just plain beautiful. And yes, you will have to deal with that. You will have to deal with them. And if you are really as gracious and sweet as all those other women think, and really, so do I, then you are going to have to deal with them just as graciously and sweetly as you do anyone else. And if you don't eventually, the guilt will hit and it will eat you like an alligator eats a chicken. If that is what you want, then you do whatever you like.”

I did my best to picture the chicken and the alligator, but it was no good. Not only had she exactly predicted my words, 'semi-cute', but she knew I had a strong guilt factor and had guessed exactly how it would affect me. “This is no blarging fair. Why the fudge bunnies should I even give them the time of day? And I'm not nearly so cute or pretty or beautiful as you or Beth or Rhonda or my other seven spa friends that are all due back in ACK!” A quick glance at my cell phone from my purse showed they should be pulling up right now. “Come one girlfriend, we have to get out to the parking lot.” We grabbed the roll-arounds and started back to the car.

And fudge bunnies if I didn't get 12 feet from the ladies room when Elise's prediction began coming true. Two guys that had been coming out of the mens room trotted up and tried to take the handles of our roll-arounds, trying to play the gentleman card. I could see Elise in the midst of a Herculean effort to not laugh out loud at my predicament. At that point, I knew I was on my own.

“Hi guys,” I began, hoping my voice wouldn't get me killed, “thanks for the offer, but these thing not only are light, they are on wheels and we're doing just fine. Thanks, again and have a nice night.”

With brilliant replies like “But ma'am”, “Are you sure?”, and “We really don't mind!”, I almost gave in and let them pull the luggage for us. NOT! I smiled and I waved and I kept walking. They finally got the message and let us go as we got to the exit doors of the mall.

We rolled outside just as a couple of cars drove up. Beth and Rhonda were already back (surprise surprise!) and the last two cars carried the other ladies. Right behind them came the limo with Serena, Taleejah, and Sasha. The driver and his two accompanying footmen were quite burly and I had the idea that Serena had made sure to be prepared in case things got out of hand.

Everyone present agreed with Elise that I needed to look my best. What surprised me was more use of words like 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' and even 'stunning'. Obviously, the driver noticed my puzzled looks and spoke up, “Ms. Misty, I have had a bit of your background related to me. I must admit, I would not have guessed had I not been told, and I am still looking for Candid Camera in case you are really a uhm, genetic woman and this is all a hoax because you look incredible. What makes me believe what I have been told is the looks you have on your face that you doubt what the other women are saying your looks. You may not appreciate yourself as a man, but ma'am, you make a beautiful and most excellent woman.”

I just swallowed and fanned myself. He laughed and suggested we board the limo and asked for the address where he needed to take us.

My only real thought was, “The lion's den.”

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