Justin had originally been my closest friend, right from primary school days. We had always been hugely competitive and I generally had the upper hand. We had indulged in dares and bets right from when we were nine or ten. We would race each other on foot, on bikes, in the pool and in boats. Competition was everything.
Chapter 1
“Shit, shit, shit, Tom, how the hell did we let ourselves get into this situation?”
“Greed and overconfidence, love, greed and overconfidence, we only have ourselves to blame.”
“Yes, but we knew that little shit Justin was not to be trusted. Sooner or later he was going to catch us out.”
Justin had originally been my closest friend, right from primary school days. We had always been hugely competitive and I generally had the upper hand. We had indulged in dares and bets right from when we were nine or ten. We would race each other on foot, on bikes, in the pool and in boats. Competition was everything.
The loser would have to pay a forfeit and the forfeits escalated over the years. At first it was things like kissing the school bully (very painful, I lost that one) or stealing girls knickers and wearing them to school, shouting out a rude word in class. The forfeits were always getting us into trouble and giving us a reputation. It was fun at the start.
At the grammar school the challenges escalated. They ended up with us both having criminal records. Mine was as a result of ending up having to walk into our local police station, naked and ask the time. I was fourteen years old. I could have been done for indecent exposure but ended up with a formal caution for wasting police time. Justin ended up with a conviction for breaking and entering. The forfeit was to get in to the sacristy at the local church and liberate a bottle of communion wine. The dozy git chose to drink a bottle and a half of the wine and pass out. He was found by the verger. If he had not been so foul mouthed and aggressive, when he came round, he would probably have got away with it. At the age of fourteen he had a conviction for breaking and entering.
Our wagers carried on through university and later, when we each went independent as software designers. The wagers escalated and Julian got more underhand and sneakier with each wager. One major falling out was in the first year after university. Justin reneged on a £500 bet saying that the terms of the bet were different than we had originally agreed.
As a result we started to specify the terms of the wager and the forfeit in writing. We then got a lawyer friend to turn the wager into an enforceable contract. It was no problem because I won most of the time. Every time I won, Justin would come back to me with another wager. I was reluctant to continue because the wagers kept escalating. Justin just kept badgering me saying that it was only fair to give him a chance to gain back some of his losses. I had to be very careful every time I accepted a wager. Justin had become extremely devious. Fortunately I understood him well enough to see the traps that he had set for me.
Justin had started to get badly out of control when we were at university. He persuaded me into a bet that in the long run turned out wonderfully for me. There was a very attractive girl called Samantha, in the second year with us. She was very shy around guys but very bright and as good as I was at computer sciences. The bet was to go on a date with her and return with an article of her clothing.
I thoroughly enjoyed chatting to her and fell for her straight away. I knew she was shy and I did not want to spoil my long term prospects by rushing things. Justin, the devious bastard, came in apparently grief stricken that his mother had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and only had weeks to live. He went straight to Sam and broke down in tears in front of her. Sam, being the lovely person that she is, started to console him. From that point he played her like a violin. He kept escalating the grief and needed much care and attention. He eventually got her to his room and fed her a drink with a date rape drug in it. When she was out of it he stripped her and took photos. He kept her slip when he reclothed her. When she came round again, Justin told her that she had passed out and that he was just about to call an ambulance when she came round.
When I found out what Justin had done I paid my debt and then hit him as hard as I could. He had a beautiful shiner and I had a swollen hand. I was the winner in the long run. Sam was now my partner, my wife, my lover and my best friend.
The stupid bet that we had lost was one that we knew for definite that we would win. I should have known that something underhand was taking place. Justin had pestered us into a series of escalating wagers, each of which he had lost. The previous one had been a competition for a contract. Not only did we win the contract but we won £20,000 from Justin.
Justin had pestered and pestered to have another wager. I had told him that it had got totally out of hand and that we were never going to have another wager. Justin went on and on about the unfairness of ending after he had gone through a long losing streak. He claimed that one last wager was only fair. His suggestion surprised us. We were both bidding for an NHS project. The project would be the biggest we had ever gone for.
We had done more groundwork and research on this project than ever before. We knew that our bid was very competitive for price. We had discussed our bid at length with the end users who were delighted with our proposals. The finance people were pleased with our financial proposals and their IT department thought we were great. All it needed was for the procurement committee, or more importantly the committee chief, to sign on the dotted line. It was as close to a done deal as possible.
Justin’s wager was his house against ours. We had a lovely large house with a secluded garden and a large studio which we used as our work space. We had bought the house a year ago, off the back of our profitable and thriving business. We had had five years of steady growth and profitability and the bank loved us. The house was worth nearly a million pounds, the value had fallen slightly over the last year because of the recession. The house was mortgaged to the bank for a bit over £900k. We thought that we would only be wagering the £50-100k worth of the house that we actually owned. A huge bet, but we had over £50k in the bank, and could raise the balance by selling cars and borrowing a bit more money.
What fools we were. First we had not even considered that we could lose the bet. Secondly, we had stupidly misread the bet. The bet was for the full, unencumbered value of the house, not the balance. We owed Justin the full value of the house. Justin’s lawyers had moved fast to sequester our company as security. In order to meet the debt, Justin could strip us of our only asset of sufficient value. Justin effectively owned us.
Our company owned all our intellectual property and the income to come from the systems that we had designed. We were both contracted to the company for all our future developments for the next five years. We had become his slaves overnight. He owned us lock stock and barrel. We consulted our lawyers to see if there was a way out. We looked at the possibility of selling our company or our intellectual property. The lawyers confirmed that with Justin’s seizure of the company, he had blocked our ability to liquidate it as an asset. They only confirmed what idiots we had been. We would be slaves for five years and at the end of that time we would be penniless and starting again from scratch.
It would hurt like hell but we could do it.
We steeled ourselves to accept defeat when we had a message that Justin wanted to make us an offer. When we met Justin he was attended by his lawyer and two large, ugly men. It was just as well for him as I think I would have beaten him to a pulp otherwise.
He said that he wanted to offer double or quits. If we lost then we would have to hand over the business and remain working for him on our existing contracts for ten years rather than five. If we accepted the wager, he would release our company and other assets back into our hands for the duration of the wager.
The terms of the wager were typical of Justin. He had developed into a very twisted and vicious person.
“Right my lovely friends, the broad terms of the wager are as follows. You will have to get divorced and you will have one year to find a man and get engaged to be married. The wedding has to be already booked before the year is up. The man must be heterosexual, healthy, under 45, a British citizen, worth over £250k net and know nothing about the wager. The wager includes having to have spent at least three nights in the same bed with the man before the year is up.”
“There is no way I am letting Sam go through with that.”
He had a wicked grin that split his face.
“Who said anything about Sam. It’s you that will have to meet the terms of the wager.”
“What? You must be joking. I am a man remember.”
“Well you may be for now, but not for long.”
Justin was laughing when he said that the man had to believe that I was a woman. He told us that we had two weeks to decide.
Chapter 2
I was as angry as hell. I started listing down our options.
1. murder Justin (Satisfying but probably not practical)
2. work out the five years and start again
3 .accept the wager
4. run away (Would not be a long term solution)
5. declare ourselves bankrupt (Would not get us out from under)
6 find something on Justin to put him in jail
7 find a loop hole.
That left us four options. The last two were speculative. That left giving in and being slaves to Justin for five years, or accepting the ridiculous wager.
I was still raging away, saying that I would take on the wager just to spite him, when Sam stopped me.
“Tom, don’t be so bloody stupid, there is no way that you would want to stop being a man. Just think before you start contemplating being a total idiot. Even if it was a possible starter, just think what the wager would mean for us, I need to say what it would mean to me. I think the idea of divorcing is not a problem because we could remarry. What is more fundamental is what it means in terms of three things, my relationship with you, my sexual needs and my values.
I love you and the you I love is the one I see before me. We trust each other in every way and believe in each other. If you are going to con a man into proposing marriage you will have to change in so many ways.
Firstly you will have to prepared to lie and cheat an unsuspecting person. The Tom I know could not do that. In order for you to con the man you would have to be a very convincing woman. In order to do that you would have to change massively and I do not know how I would feel about the person you changed into.
Secondly, when we first got together I was naive sexually. You woke me up to the joys of being a full blooded heterosexual woman. I love sex with a man, with you. If you wore women’s clothes and started to become female, I do not know how I would react, but I know I am not a lesbian.”
Sam could see that I was wound up and not thinking straight. She was very quiet and looked very sad. That night we went to a cold bed, not talking. When we woke in the morning we hugged and had wonderful, slow, making up, sex. When we finally sat down for breakfast Sam sat deep in thought.
“Tom, I think there is no way that you should ever even contemplate taking up Justin’s wager. But, and it is a huge but, I am prepared to help you see what you would be like as a woman. I hope that it will convince you that it is a bloody stupid idea. We can then grit our teeth and survive five years of hell with Justin. It is the easier, safer option.”
We spent the morning preparing. First we went to Marks to get a bra and panties in my size and got some hold up stockings. We searched the charity shops for clothes in my size that would make a sensible outfit. It had us both laughing like naughty children picking out inappropriate and outrageous options. In the end we had a selection of stuff in my size that went together. We even found a pair of shoes, in reasonable condition, that were my size and that would go with the outfit.
When we got home Sam systematically removed all my body hair using a depilating cream. It took ages and left me feeling burnt and raw. The applications of a soothing cream felt wonderful and restored me to a feeling of ease. The hairless legs looked so different, but it was the arms that shocked me most. Suddenly they were not mine. Removing the hair from pits and cracks did not seem as strange as having hairless arms.
Sam then washed and conditioned my hair which was long for a guy, almost shoulder length, with her own special shampoos. The result was that my hair was more full and shiny than usual. Next Sam wound my hair, tightly, over hot rollers. It was uncomfortable but bearable. My nails were the next task. They were filed to some sort of shape and then both toe and finger nails were given coats of deep red polish.
We then started to get me dressed. Sam squeezed and manipulated my balls till they, rather painfully slipped into my body cavity. With that done she pulled my dick back between my legs and taped it down. It was uncomfortable, but bearable. She then pulled the panties up my legs. They were tight and gripped my junk into hiding. When I looked down it looked very female.
Next came the stockings. They felt wonderful and silky and erotic on my legs. I could feel my todger trying to stir within its restraints. If stockings felt that good, I could get used to them. Next the bra, Sam helped me fix it on and then stuffed the two cups with seed filled stocking socks that had been tied off in the rough shape of a bust. When Sam put them in the cups of the bra, I could feel my balance shift. They felt heavy on my chest, dragging me forward.
“Jesus, Sam, you did not have to make them this big.”
“God, what a wimp you are. That bra is only a B cup. Mine are C. you are a fair bit bigger and much heavier muscled than me. I should have given you a D cup.”
Next came a thigh length slip and then a very fine long stretchy grey woolen dress. It was long sleeved, with a high neck and came down to mid calf. Sam then put a deep red wide belt around my waist and pulled it in so tight it felt as though my lower ribs might crack. Sam then started on the make up. First the foundation, then she spent ages on the eyes. There was so much blending and shaping going on that we were a full twenty minutes just on that. All this time I had not been allowed to see myself. The rollers were removed and Sam brushed out my hair. Sam found a deep red choker with a small cameo on it and put it round my neck, to cover my Adam’s apple. She finished me off with a couple of bracelets and a ladies watch.
I then mounted the open toed red shoes and felt as though I was balancing on a tightrope. My feet, calves and shins protested. Sam led me to the full length mirror for my first sight of the female me.
“What do you think?”
Standing looking back at me from the mirror was a bloke with a broken nose, make up, a dodgy hairdo, muscles, bow legs and a frock standing as if he was waiting to tackle a second row forward. It was not a pretty sight. Both Sam and I burst out laughing and could not stop. Tears were running down our faces we were helpless. When we finally stopped laughing Sam suggested we analyse what we were looking at.
“First thing is to stand up straight with your head up and shoulders back, yes chin up, that’s better. Chest out and legs straight, stand with your legs together and one heel into the instep of the other. Good. Spread your weight across the whole of your foot. Now that is better. From the waist down you do not look bad. You have nice legs and ankles. Your legs are a bit too well muscled. Your feet are not too big. Your hips look too slim and your bum too firm. Looks a bit like Jess Ennis’s so I suppose that might pass. The top half is a different. Your eyes are lovely. Green eyes and auburn hair are a great combination. Your jaw is too strong and your neck too broad but the overall shape of the face is not bad. Your hands are not overly large and your fingers are slim and well shaped. Your torso has far too much muscle and definition and you have no waist to talk about. There is no chance, looking as you do, that you could convince anyone that you were an attractive woman.
I like you though, come here.”
What followed was some of the most wonderful kinky sex that we have ever had. Sam slowly stripped me down to stockings and bra and released my massively straining dick. It was weird, but nice, kissing when we were both wearing lipstick. The feeling of the stockings on my legs was very sensual. Sam must have thought so too because she kept rubbing herself against them. We got so into each other, that we spent a long time licking and sucking each other in a sixty nine. That was a very rare event for us. We eventually lay back in each others arms, totally exhausted and slept like babies.
When I awoke in the morning there was make up all over the pillow and when I looked in the bathroom mirror my face looked a total mess. A yawning and stretching Sam came up behind me giving me make up cleaner and moisturizing cream.
“Sam, just humour me for a moment and give me an assessment of what I would need to do in order to convince people I was an attractive woman.”
“You really want me to do that?”
“OK, top down. You would need to grow your hair, nurture it and get a woman’s style. Get your ears pierced. Eyebrows need shaping and possibly a shave of your brow ridge. A nose job is needed to straighten and reduce your nose. Cheek bones are OK. Beard needs removing. You need a reduction of your jaw line. Eyes are great and lips OK. Neck needs thinning. Adams apple needs shaving. Muscle mass needs a lot of reducing and softening. You would need to lose at least a stone possibly two. Your nipples and auriolas would need to grow. You would need at least B cup breasts. You would need to find a waist and grow hips. From the hips down you are fine apart from being too hairy and too well muscled.
That is the easy part. You are a natural alpha male, dominant and very competitive. You would need to change your behaviour, mannerisms and speech from very male to female. You would need to change your personality to lose all that lovely maleness and start to think and act as a woman. I have left the hardest thing of all to last, you would have to see men as attractive.”
“Wow, why do you make it sound so easy?”
“I’m just telling you how it is.”
“I reckon it would be possible for me to act female without actually changing personality. I could probably keep up a pretense for a few months.”
Sam gave me a look that made it abundantly clear that she thought I was talking bullshit.
“Tom, trust me on this, it is not a runner.”
“Sam, we have thirteen days before we have to submit. We should at least research the possibility. I can’t just give in without checking every last option.”
“OK, but it is a fools errand. I will help you research but you must know that I am 100% opposed to you trying to take on this wager.”
“Thank you Sam, I love you.”
Chapter 3
I decided to approach it in the same way that we would any project. I would identify key target points which had to be reached before other things could happen and then work out the critical path to those points. After a lot of discussion I decided that the target points would be.
1. get fundamentals sorted. Nose, jaw line, removal of beard and male pattern body hair, growth of nipples, loss of weight, softening of muscles, development of a waist and female body shape, brow alteration, breast implants
2. create the illusion of an attractive woman in dress and behaviour.
3. find and woo a qualifying male getting them to the point of a proposal of marriage.
The last part was the determining factor. How long, realistically, would it take to get through this stage? If we took it slow it would be at least six months. The shorter the time span, the hotter the romance would need to be. The hotter the romance, the more sexually attractive and active I would need to be. Whilst it may be possible to get a proposal of marriage after a brief courtship, without having first having sex, it would be extremely unlikely. Couples tended to move in together before marriage and celibacy prior to a marriage proposal would be rare. There was a need to allow at least six months for a more sedate courtship and a more conservative approach.
If that were the case, I would need to be passably female and able to have some lower level sexual interplay within the next six months. That would require that I was presentably female within six months. I would need to be able to look and act like a woman.
After a couple of days heavy research on the internet we came up with a list of actions that would be required.
1. get registered with a GP as transgendered. (week1)
2. get a referral to a specialist and a psychologist. (week 1)
3. get hormone cream to develop nipples and areolas. (week 1)
4. get hormones off the net until doctors prescribe (week 1)
5. contact a plastic surgeon about nose, jaw, brow ridge and Adam’s apple surgery. (week 1)
6. start diet and new exercise routine (week 1)
7. purchase corsets to start waist training (week 1)
8. start education on mannerisms and clothing (week1)
9. start electrolysis on hair, especially beard. (week 1)
10. start divorce proceedings (week 1)
11. start voice training (week 2)
12. probable first appointment with specialist and psychologist (week 5)
13. researching websites and dating options by Sam (week 4)
14. purchase first clothing and dressing at home as a woman (week 5)
15. undertake first surgery (week 6)
16. probable first hormone prescription. (week 6)
17. first visit to hair stylist and manicurist (week 9)
18. start correspondence with possible targets (week 10)
19. first outing as a woman (week 12)
20. first trial date (week 14)
21. first snog (week 16)
22. breast implants, these have to be left as late as possible to allow nipples and areolas to grow first(week 18)
23. first date after implants (week 21)
24. selection of target men (week 22)
25. first dates with targets (week 26)
All of those dates were, probably, excessively optimistic. Any delay, or slowness in development, and the whole timetable was unworkable.
During all that time we would have to keep our business going. That was not a major problem because Sam usually did all the customer contact. There would be the massive upset to our family and friends. I would not be able to explain why I was suddenly turning into a woman and dating men. I suspected that they would all be appalled by my behaviour. It amused me to think of how the rugby club would react to their first team scrum half dressing in skirts and dating men.
When we saw it all down on paper it really hit home what an impossible task it would be. It also hit me forcibly, what the wager would mean to Sam. She would be trapped inside a nightmare turning her husband into a woman and helping him get dates with men.
The residual situation, if we won the wager would be a damaged relationship between Sam and me. It would mean the loss of friends, the possible alienation of family. I would be able to remove the implants and when I stopped the hormones my body shape would return to something more male. I would probably become sterile and may lose the ability to get an erection. I would probably need testosterone supplements the rest of my life and I would have had to have some level of sexual relations with at least three or four men. I would have led at least one man to fall in love with me and left him feeling stupid, angry and broken hearted. My beard would have gone and I would always look feminine.
And the plus side would be? Not a lot, I would understand something of the woman’s lot and we would have our company, our home and a financially good future. We would not have to suffer any more Justin.
When we finished our analysis it was clear that it was a non starter. We would just have to grin and bear it.
The ridiculous thing was that, even after going through all that research and discussion, it had not registered with me, at any meaningful level, that I was actually contemplating giving up being who I was and actually becoming female. I was seeing it as a problem solving exercise and not as a fundamental change in both me and us.
Why I had taken the possibility of the wager in any way seriously, I do not know. There was a huge gap between what I had been thinking and reality. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a total non starter. Chapter 4
We had five days left when Justin dropped the next bombshell. He outlined his plans for the next five years. I was to go straight to Thailand where my new home would be situated. I would work and live there. I would be located in the brothel of a notorious local madam. Justin was the joint owner of the brothel and ladyboy bar. I would be on very low income and would have no access to funds. My work would be whatever the madam wanted me to do and that was unlikely to be systems design.
Sam was to work with Justin and travel everywhere with him. He said that it would be fun because Sam would always have to share rooms with him. We both knew that Justin had been prepared to use date rape drugs in the past, so there was no doubt he would use them in the future.
As a Thailand employee, I would not be entitled to holidays and both of us would be required to surrender our passports to Justin for the five years.
Justin had got his lawyers to look over our contracts and established that we had both signed to give at least 5 years notice of termination. We had both agreed that the owners of the company would determine all our travel and accommodation arrangements. We had both agreed that the owners would specify what we worked on, where and how much we would be paid. We had been mucking around when we wrote our contracts. We wrote the contracts as the owners, but we were the owners no more. We were just the employees. The worst clause in the contract said that in the event of a breach of contract, the person in breach would agree to any penalty imposed by the owners. We had thought that very amusing when we wrote it.
Justin’s lawyers had established that because we had entered into the contract voluntarily and had worked to that contract without complaint for five years, then the contract was sound.
The first thing we did was to check up on the brothel in Thailand. It took a while to find anything but we eventually found a newspaper report of a joint raid involving UK and the national Thai police, the local police were in the madam’s pocket. There had been many cases of young male tourists disappearing whilst on holiday in Thailand. There had been a tip off that at least four young europeans had been working as ladyboy prostitutes in this bar and brothel. When the raid took place the police found three young people who were indeed working as prostitutes. All went by girls names and could not remember their real names. They found difficulty remembering any English. DNA tests showed that they were three of the missing young men. All three were very spaced out and under the influence of drugs. All three kept offering sex to the police. All three looked like females with significant bust and hip development. All three had no testicles and now had a rudimentary vagina. All three were HIV positive. They all still possessed the remains of a penis. None could remember how they had got to be where they were. All three were rescued but no one was prosecuted. The madam claimed that each one had approached her willingly looking for work as a hostess.
On their return to the UK all went through drug rehabilitation. One was by now in the advanced stages of AIDS and was very seriously ill. A second committed suicide when he realized what had been done to him. The third was in a secure mental hospital. The others had just disappeared some time before the raid. The police believed that the madam procured and supplied young European males, having converted them to work as ladyboys. The UK police believed that the Madam and her team drugged young men, then kept them under the influence of powerful addictive drugs. They further believed that the young men were kept in secure lock ups whilst they were treated with high hormone levels, surgically modified and brain washed into working as whores. The young men never stood a chance. They were unable to prove anything and the madam was left to carry on her trade.
Would I be able to avoid the same fate if I was isolated and under their control, thousands of miles from home.
“That looks scary. It looks as though Justin has worked out a way to completely ruin you and then make you disappear into a world worse than hell. It is just typical of the twisted bastard. When did he become such a vindictive shite. He was always bad but not this bad. What can we do to protect you Tom?”
“It’s not just me at risk, my love. Once he has got me out of the way, he can ask you to do whatever he wants and if you refuse, you will be in breach of contract and he can make you carry out any forfeit that his evil bloody mind comes up with.
“We are shafted in every possible sense of the word. He has us trapped.”
“Our only way out is going to be to buy time by taking up the wager. We will still have our freedom for a year and we will still have all our resources under our control. We can use the time to find some way to get out from under the evil bastard.”
“Don’t be stupid, that means you starting the process of transitioning into a woman and you know that is neither realistic or in any way acceptable.”
“Yes I know, but at least it would be under our control. I would not end up as some drug controlled freak, selling my body for pennies to all comers before I finally die of drugs, aids or just go mad and top myself.”
“We still have some time. Let’s go through it all with our lawyers and see if they can find a way out. I’m sure that Justin can’t possibly force you to go to Thailand. It can’t be legal. At the very least, they might be able to come up with some challenge that could put things on hold for a while.”
Next morning we spent hours with our lawyers going over every possible loophole. They were very apologetic and sympathetic but the final answer was that we had been idiots to enter a wager without being extremely clear about the terms. We had been even bigger idiots to play silly buggers and write ourselves into the contracts we were now stuck with. Our options were now starkly clear. I could put myself in Justin’s hands in Thailand, take on the wager, or run.
I had thought that if the worst came to the worst we could just say to Justin that we refused to meet the terms of the contract. I assumed that the result would be a civil court case for breach of contract where Justin would get damages equal to everything we owned and considerably more. We could then file for bankruptcy and be out from under as soon as the bankruptcy was discharged. Our lawyers reminded us that we were not currently in control of our company and, to make matters worse both Sam and my parents had acted as guarantors to the initial £400,000 bank loan that we had taken out to start the business. We had never paid it off. It had not seemed important when we had started making money.
If we went bankrupt as a result of breach of contract, both sets of parents would be met with crippling debt, neither sets of parents were well off. Sam’s mum was a widow and not in good health. We paid her a wage from the firm just to keep her afloat. My parents still had a smallish mortgage. Default on the bet would certainly lead to ruin for, not only us but, our families too. We worked it out that if we just broke the contract and went bust and the guarantees were called in, we could start again. Our parents, however, would have lost their homes and it would take a good while to get enough money to repay them. Sam’s mum would suffer most, but there was a chance that we could get out from under without everyone loosing everything long term. It was a slim chance but there was a very dim glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. We needed to talk to our parents and see if survival for them was possible.
Chapter 5
We went to bed that night happier than we had for a few days. We now knew that there was a possible way out and that I would not have to go through with this ridiculous idea of feminizing myself.
In the morning we rose feeling much more positive. The way ahead was going to be hard, but our stupidity had got us into the mess. We were young and had marketable skills and contacts and a good reputation.
We were out of milk so Sam popped down to the shops to get some for our breakfast. Half an hour later and she had not returned. I thought that she must have met up with a friend and got chatting. Another hour passed and io was now starting to get worried. I walked down to the shops to see if I could find her. No sign could be found. I went into our convenience store and asked if she had been in for the milk. Mary in the shop said that she had been in and bought milk well over an hour ago. She added that she thought she had seen her outside the shop talking to two large men. She had been serving a customer and when she looked back again Sam was gone.
I was now starting to get worried. I called round all of Sam’s friends that I could think of and none had heard from her. I contacted the local hospitals, just in case. After another couple of hours had passed I contacted her parents and they had not heard from her.
By now five hours had passed and still no sign. I had covered the whole area looking for her. Her phone was switched off and everything was going to voice mail. I tried to see if the phone company would trace where she was but they dismissed me out of hand. After six hours I went on line to the bank to see if she had accessed any accounts or used her credit cards, nothing. I was getting desperate and went to the police to report a missing person. When they knew that she had only been missing for less than seven hours, they said that they were not interested and for me to come back if she had not returned within twenty four hours.
This was such a ridiculous situation. I knew that Sam would not just wander off, especially with the situation we were currently in. she may have taken an hour or two out to reflect on the situation and think through what our future looked like, but I was sure that she would not just wander off for this length of time. Maybe I had underestimated the pressure that this situation had put on her. Maybe she had just decided to walk away from it all, but it just did not feel like something Sam would do. I sat and worried about whether Sam had just cracked under the pressure and walked out.
In the end I was sure that something had prevented Sam’s return and that she would not be staying away voluntarily. It was then that a chilling thought hit me. What if Justin were behind this disappearance? I immediately got on the phone to Justin.
“Hello Justin, do you know where Sam is?”
“I was waiting for you to call, what took you so long? I want to see you at my place now, no police and be on your own.”
When I got to Justin’s place, I was met at the door by a large thug, who frisked me to check if I was wearing any recording device or bug. He relieved me of my phone and told me to strip. I needed to get to Justin so I complied with his order. Eventually, I was ushered into Justin’s presence where he was joined by the goon who had met me at the door. Another large thug was present, who pushed me into a chair in front of Justin and secured my arms to the chair with cable ties.
“It is so nice of you to come to see me, Tom. Please excuse the precautions, but I needed to make sure that there were no recordings of our conversation. I did think of getting my friends here to give you an internal examination just in case, but I thought that might be a little excessive. Now I suspect that you would like to know where Sam is. Well, at this moment she is out of the country in a house where friends of mine keep young ladies and make them service customers. At the moment she is safe and unharmed, but that could change anytime. We keep the ladies under lock and key and feed them drugs to keep them under control. The ladies are usually good for two or three years before they become too unattractive.
Now a little bird told me that you were thinking of welshing on our little wager. What I have done today is a demonstration of what I am capable of. I will return Sam to you unharmed, within the next twenty four hours. If, however, I ever get a whiff that you are thinking of backing out of the wager Sam will be taken back to the brothel. Do not think of going to the police or Sam will disappear to a short but unhappy whore’s life. The people that I know, are capable of kidnapping people off the street, even if they employ bodyguards. Now be a good little boy, or is that going to be little girl, and go back home. If I am happy that you are going to play by my rules, then you will see Sam safe at home. Oh, by the way, just in case you thought that I was bluffing, you can see Sam on this video.”
With that, Justin turned a screen toward me and I could see a very scared Sam, sitting chained to a bed naked. The room was bare except for the bed a toilet and a shower.
“At the moment, she has not been made to pay for her fare, but I could ask my friends to change that. My colleague will give you back your things and see you to the door. Goodbye Tom, so nice to see you again.”
The two thugs cut my restraints free, lifted me up, thrust my clothes in my arms and pushed me out of the door. Once outside I quickly dressed and made my way home. The situation was hopeless, if I went to the police, there was no link to Justin and Sam had not been missing twelve hours yet. I knew that Justin was evil enough to carry out his threat. I just had to wait it out.
That was a cold and scary night. I could not sleep and I could not stop thinking about how terrified Sam must be feeling. Morning came and the day dragged on, I tried working but ended up just staring at the wall and then pacing around. I tried Sam’s phone several times but there was no answer. Evening came and I was out of my mind with worry. Finally my phone rang. It was Sam.
“Sam, thank God. Where are you?”
All I could hear for a while was racking sobs at the other end of the phone. Eventually Sam was able to talk and tell me that she had woken up in a bus shelter in Acton, not very far from home. I told her to stay where she was and got to her as quickly as I could by car. When I got there she was huddled in the shelter sobbing. I held her in my arms for a long while before she was able to stand and walk to the car. We did not talk on the way home, she was dirty and disheveled and I had to drive with one hand because she would not let go of the other one.
When we got home I carried her from the car and took her up to our room. I ran her a bath and gently undressed her and then washed her. It was some time before she started to talk. Her first few attempts were ended by her sobbing and then just needing to be cuddled. Eventually she felt able to talk.
“I am sorry Tom, I did not see it coming. I could not stop them when I came out of the shop, this large foreign guy asked me directions to somewhere, I can’t remember where, and as I turned to answer him I felt someone behind me and then a prick in my kneck. It just went black after that. The next thing I remember is waking up naked on a bed. I was shocked and confused and when I realized that I had a shackle round my ankle and that I was chained to the bed I started to panic. I screamed and shouted for help and a large ugly man with a pock marked face came into the room. He spoke first in a language that I could not understand, but when I asked him where I was he answered in very broken english that I was in his whorehouse and if I did not keep quiet he would give me a beating. He said that he was looking after me for a friend of his and it was being decided whether I was to be put to work or not. With that he left. I was left on my own for hours, then the same man came and left a bowl of soup, some bread and water. I was too scared to eat but I needed the water. I was there for hours and hours until the same man came in and told me that I was a lucky girl and that I was going home. He injected something into my neck and the next thing I knew was waking up in that bus shelter. Tom it was so horrible in that place, I could hear other girls crying and sometimes screaming with pain. I tried talking to them but I could not understand their language. It sounded eastern European. I was so scared. It was Justin wasn’t it?
“Yes love. He, somehow found out that we were thinking of backing out of the wager and just letting him sue us for damages. There is no way I am going to put you at risk. The only solution is for us to accept the wager.”
“Can’t we go to the police?”
“And tell them what? We have no proof that anything happened. The bastard has got us.”
I put Sam to bed and sat and thought long and hard. There had to be a way out, but I could not think of it. The following morning Sam seemed fragile but much better than the night before. I was proud of the strength that Sam had, but there was no way that I would let her be in danger. I would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
I told Sam, when she woke up, that her safety was more important than anything else in my life. I had decided that I would protect her. She was the most important thing in my life and if it meant humiliation and being shunned by everyone, if it meant sacrificing my masculinity and risking losing her love, I would still go ahead with the wager. I was sorry but my mind was made up. It was clear that Sam had also thought long and hard after her ordeal.
“Tom, I know that we are stuck with the wager. I know that, however much we fight it, it will affect our marriage and our relationship. I hate the idea of what you will have to do, but, we will have to do this together. I will help you, every inch of the way.”
“Thank you. We just have to hope that we can find a way out before I become too feminine.”
Having made our decision we now knew the clock was ticking. We still had thirty six hours before we told Justin that we were taking on the wager. We decided that we would take a week away from work, other than dealing with correspondence and any emergencies from our clients. I decided that this Saturday I would play rugby and then after the match, tell the club that I would be unavailable for the rest of the season. I phoned the surgery and made an appointment to see my friend Doug. He was not only my GP but also a team mate in the rugby club and a friend of long standing.
Sam and I searched the net for a reliable source of estrogen breast cream, testosterone blockers and female hormone pills. We found a supplier in Canada that checked out fairly well. Transgender chat rooms were quite useful and I registered on a couple just to get tips and information. I then started mugging up on the process of getting onto a transition programme. I spent hours reading through people’s accounts of their transition. I was most interested in finding out what had convinced these individuals to go through all the agony and trauma of becoming a woman. The stories made hard reading in many cases, but I was going to have to convince Doug and many others that I was serious about transitioning. I had to convince them that I had a burning, overwhelming need to become a woman.
Sam researched cosmetic surgeons and found one that was fairly close to home and seemed to have a good reputation. She made me an appointment to see them the following week. She also booked an appointment to see about starting beard and excess hair removal.
Neither of us wanted to face Justin to give him the pleasure of seeing me agree to become a convincing woman. We did not want to see him gloat. We went to see his lawyers and signed all the paperwork that initiated the wager. From that moment we got back control of our company, our home and our lives. My first act was to contact the bank and arrange for the removal of the loan guarantees that our parents had taken out for us. Whatever else happened now, they would be safe
We had a quiet weekend, I played rugby and had one of the best games of my life. Sam cheered my efforts lustily from the touchline. We had a few pints in the clubhouse and I announced that due to a new project, I was unavailable for the remainder of the season. I had to deflect a barrage of questions from my mates and was made to promise that Sam and I would come to the end of season dinner. The thought went through my mind that I probably would not be welcome at the club by then.
This was my last day as a totally un-modified male and we enjoyed it to the full.
Sunday was spent planning and bouts of urgent sex. We almost felt we were facing Armageddon and we needed the comfort of our intimacy.
Chapter 6
We had spent hours on the net chatting with people who were undergoing or who had undergone transition. As a result we had got advice as to which organization in our area was best for facial hair removal and dealing with men transitioning. I phoned first thing Monday morning and managed to get an initial consultation for that afternoon.
The rest of the morning was spent on research. It was much more complex than I had thought. The overwhelming advice was to get to know people who had already gone down the road, befriend them and get their advice and guidance.
We found out that there was a support group for transsexuals and their partners locally. The woman was so kind and supportive on the phone and she invited us to the next meeting, which was a week on Wednesday.
That afternoon I attended the clinic for a consultation. It appeared that I was lucky because I had a slow growing and fairly sparse beard. The suggestion was that, if I had a high pain threshold they could do an initial lazer clearing of my beard over a week and then continue with frequent electrolysis treatments interspersed with more lazer treatment. I found out that my skin and beard type meant that I was lucky and that the process should be speedy and without too many side effects. The clinic were skeptical about my target of six months to totally remove my beard. The faster I wanted to go, the more pain and the greater the risk of unwanted side effects. The whole process was going to be very expensive. I was shocked when we were talking in thousands of pounds over the six months and many hours of treatment. The clinic advised me that if it was my intention to pass as a woman, then I should get further hair removal on other parts of my body.
I made an appointment for later in the week and while, I was there, I got my ears pierced and two little gold studs inserted. I was now on my way.
Sam enrolled me in a yoga class with the objective of becoming much more supple. My diet had also started. Sam also instructed me how to take care of my hair to make it more lustrous and healthy. Moisturising was now to be part of my daily ritual. Sam showed me how to take care of my toe and finger nails and I started to shape them and cover them with a clear varnish.
The next day I went to see Doug.
"Hi Tom, great to see you. Great game on Saturday, that was the best I have ever seen you play. Anyway what can I do for you?"
"This is going to be very difficult for me Doug, so please bear with me and listen to me all the way through."
"Shit Tom, you haven't been playing away and caught some STD, have you?"
"Doug, be serious. Listen to me. The up and the down of it is that I can't maintain the lie of being a man anymore and I must start transitioning to become the woman that I really am."
"Stop pissing about Tom, why are you really here?"
"Doug, I am desperately serious about this. I can't face life like this any more, I can't pretend to be a man any more. I need your help and I need your referral to see the right specialists."
"Tom it's not April 1st, stop kidding me."
"Doug, I need your help."
"But Tom, I have known you for years. I have played rugby with you, seen you take on forwards twice your size. I have seen your aggression. I see how close and loving you are with Sam. I have never seen any glimpse of femininity about you"
"I have kept it well hidden. Sam knows about me and accepts and supports me. She accepts that I can no longer pretend. You must help me."
"I can see that you have had your ears pierced but no other signs. Do you cross dress."
"Yes, Sam has helped me with getting women's clothes and helped me with my make up. She has helped me research what I need to do."
From that point Doug started to act like a doctor rather than a rugby mate. He asked many questions about what steps I had taken so far, when I had come out to Sam and whether I had taken any hormones. It was fortunate that he had the experience of dealing with two other transgendered patients, so he knew what to do next. He said that if I wanted to go national health, I would have about a two year wait to see a gender specialist. If I wanted to go private, he could arrange a quick meeting with a gender specialist. I would get a letter within the next two weeks for an appointment.
Doug and I usually parted with a man hug. This time he held back and did not even shake my hand on parting. Doug had always been a close mate and we had shared many escapades. When we parted he was distant and professional. I had my first glimpse of how my life was going to be, the price that I would have to pay and the friends that I would lose.
When I got home I told Sam about my experience and my sorrow at the probable loss of a friend. The implications of what I was doing were starting to sink in at a different level than before. I was realising what an outcast I was going to become. I knew that it was not going to be very long before friends started to find out. Sooner or later I was going to have to start looking more feminine and wearing more feminine clothes. I had six months at most to turn myself into a convincing looking woman.
Our research continued on the net and the following morning the hormone breast cream arrived. We rubbed the cream in straight away. Small steps would lead to big consequences. Later that morning I had my first laser treatment. It was agony. I had asked to do as much and as fast as possible. My face was red and felt raw. I was due for my next session on Saturday morning. Whilst they were at it, they removed the odd hairs growing round my nipples.
The cooling cream that Sam gave me made things a little better. When talking in the transgender chat room later, I expressed my surprise at how hard the hair removal was. Several sympathetic responses came my way and I had a lengthy chat with a transwoman called Rose, who was well down the road of transition. It was amazing the volume and value of the advice Rose could give me. It seemed that the chat rooms would be a very valuable source of support.
The following morning the hormones and blockers arrived and I took my first doses. Sam suggested that I start to get used to more feminine clothes. That was an immediate challenge because I did not have any. We went out and bought a couple of camisole tops and I wore one of them with a soft cashmere jumper that I owned. Sam insisted that I should start wearing panties instead of my normal underwear. We bought some and they were quite pleasant to wear except that there was no space for my meat and two veg.
That afternoon I had my first appointment with the cosmetic surgeons. They were unquestioning about my motives. Discussion about my broken nose was straight forward. There was not even a raised eyebrow when I asked that the nose be trimmed and made shorter and more feminine. When the surgeon understood what my objective was, he showed me examples of where feminisation of a male jaw line had been completed. The pictures that he had taken of my face had been turned them into a 3d model on the screen. He showed me what he could do with my jaw line, chin, nose and brow. It was amazing, the face on the screen morphed from a typical male into a female face that was not unattractive. The face was still recognisably me or me if I had been a girl.
The surgeon said that all the work, including an Adam's apple shave, could be completed in one sitting. A three week wait was all I had before the deadly dead was done. Healing time would be three to four weeks before the bruising and swelling went away. What did surprise me was the quote for the work , it was an eye watering amount. After stunning me with the cost, the surgeon went on to raise the issue of waist and hips. Being a genetic male my fat receptors were on my stomach rather than my hips and bum. My rib cage and hips were a different shape to a woman. He suggested that in order to get a convincing waist, he could widen my hips by cutting the bone and adding two grafts of bone. The recovery time was long as this was major surgery. An additional option was the trimming of my ribs and the removal of the bottom rib. The recovery time was not as long as the hip operation but still quite major.
He also suggested the transfer of fat and fat receptors from my stomach and love handles, to my hips and bum.
I confirmed the cosmetic surgery but ruled out the pelvis reconstruction. The rib trim was something that I had to think about and the fat relocation left me bemused.
"Sam, I booked the facial surgery, for next month. It is going to be more expensive than I thought."
"We are ok, the company is making good money and we have reserves. If we stick with what we are doing, new contracts will come in. Money is not the problem. We can find whatever money we need."
"The surgeon suggested pelvis reconstruction but that seems too serious. The other thing that he suggested was trimming my ribs to establish a female waist."
"I think we might be able to get some result with the use of corsets. Shall we try that first to see how much of a result we can achieve? I have found a place that specialises in corsets. Let's go there now."
The corset place seemed quite old fashioned. We were told that to get the best results, I should have a pair of corsets custom made. In the meantime I could use a couple of, off the peg corsets. The assistants first showed us how to put the corset on. She then showed Sam how to string the corset tighter. The process was extremely uncomfortable. My normal waist was a generous 30", possibly 32” when I let myself go. After a great deal of straining my waist was down to 27". My ribs felt as though they were being crushed and I could only breathe with the top part of my lungs. We were advised that if we wanted to reduce my waist size, then I would need to wear the corset at least sixteen hours a day and ideally overnight as well.
The corset was hell and I had to take it off to sleep. In the morning it was back on for my next visit for laser treatment. That afternoon was not pleasant. The discomfort of the corset and the pain of the laser treatment left me feeling sorry for myself. I had a moan in one of the transgender chat rooms and received some sympathetic responses. One of the useful things that I got from my chat session was the name of a voice coach who could help ne with creating a female voice.
At the end of week one Sam and I had a review of progress to date.
“Ok Tom how do you feel now we have started?”
“Scared, uncomfortable and worried. It is starting to hit home how much this is going to change me, us, our social life and even our relationship with our families. It is almost like a full time job changing myself into something I really don’t want to be. I feel that I am working hard to do something I don’t want. It is painful and is taking up all of my time and thinking capacity. It is overwhelming me. I feel as if I am running up a railway track, towards an oncoming train.”
“It is clear that your head space has been filled with making the changes happen. I feel helpless that there is so little I can do to help you other than research and love.”
“Don’t ever stop with the love, whatever happens. I need your love if I am to stand any chance of surviving this.”
“That is a given. One thing that we will have to think about is getting more permanent help with the business. At the moment I do all the work with the client and the initial systems research. You do most of the systems design and code bashing. We have used Tim and Jackie as freelancers to help in the past. We are going to have to take at least one of them on full time, probably Jackie. Our workload and customer base is expanding and your time for work will be reduced for a while.”
“If Jackie is willing to work full time we can make space for her in the studio so that we can work together. If we bring Jackie in, we will have to tell her what I am doing and why.”
“Agreed, I will talk to her tomorrow. There is one other thing that I have been looking up and that is preserving your sperm. There is a real danger that the hormone regime will make you infertile. I want our babies. Whatever happens to us, I want our babies and I would like to have our first one soon. I think that it would be wise to leave getting pregnant for at least six months and there is a risk that your fertility may be too reduced by then. We should deposit a sufficient amount of sperm for me to have at least two children. We should sort out the storage as soon as possible.”
“Wow, that is blunt, but you are right. We both want a family, whatever happens, and with the business going well, we would be able to support a family.”
Sam suggested that I needed to get to know someone who was much further down the road of transition and get their advice and help. She could help me as a big sister would help with things like dress, make up, mannerism and body language, but I would need someone who knew the practical problems.
At an intellectual level I was starting to understand what all this process would mean. I could understand the implications of each part of the process as a separate thing. What I was entirely failing to do was to get a gut understanding of the whole of what I was going to do to myself. I was in denial about the true destination of this journey.
Tom is now started on his reluctant journey to become a woman. He has a year to meet the terms of the wager or find a different way to save his wife and his life. The changes are starting and his happy old alpha male existence starting to go.
Chapter 7
Week two was underway, more hair treatment and no shaving. Sam suggested that I should think about getting a gaff and get used to tucking.
We contacted Jackie and she agreed to start with us in three weeks time. Because of the crash diet, I was now permanently hungry. I was just about 5ft 8inches wringing wet and weighed a bit over twelve stone. There were no love handles but there was a bit of surface flab. My target was to get down below eleven stone, hopefully ten and a half, if I could.
An hour a day was spent doing yoga and my reading matter was women’s magazines. Somehow, I had to try to catch up on twenty seven years of women’s knowledge. When we were out walking, or watching television, Sam would get me to analyse women’s make up, dress and hair styles. She had me commenting on what worked and what didn’t. The variety of make up that women wore came as a surprise. The subtle differences in colour, texture and shape of clothes and the effect they had on the look of a woman, had been an area of total ignorance. The differences between what worked for women of each age, was an eye opener. I had so much to learn.
Sam had me start thinking about what would be a good look for me. She also made me think about hair styles. Although my hair was long for a man, it was short for a woman. Sam made an appointment for me at the stylist and between us and the stylist we came up with an urchin cut that was kickass but feminine. The stylist was bursting to know why a butch guy with a broken nose wanted a feminine hairdo.
We did our first shopping trip for clothes. God was that embarrassing. It was bad enough walking around with a corset on. It was obvious to the sales assistants in the shops. The first steps were not too bad. Sam measured me for a bra and persuaded me to look for more knickers. We went to Marks and Spencer and visited the lingerie department. Sam wanted me to choose the style of panties that I wanted but my mind was totally blank. In the end I chose a selection of plain white cotton pants in various styles. Sam picked out a few A cup bras to match. She also put some satin and silk undies in the basket, despite my protests.
The next call was to get some feminine jeans. They just did not fit me right. With the corset they fitted my waist but were loose round my bum and tight round my legs. Sam predicted that they would fit better as time went on. We then looked at skirts, blouses, camisoles and jumpers. I refused to try them on in the shop and did my best to avoid any decisions and choices. The one thing that I could not avoid trying on was a waterproof jacket. It was tight in the shoulders and arms and loose around the chest. Despite my protest Sam said that it would fit me in time. We even bought tights and stockings and then went on to a shoe shop where I bought some girly trainers and a pair of ballet flats.
My most painful part of the week was not only with the electrolysis but with the waxing of my arms and legs. It was painful at the time but the feeling afterwards was so strange. My skin felt much more sensitive and I became very aware of the rough touch of clothes on my skin.
Sam loved my smoothness and lack of a scratchy beard when we made love. Boy did we make love.
The voice coach was good. She showed me that it was less about trying to talk in falsetto. The four main things were talking from the head and not the chest, getting more lilt and song into my speech, how I phrased, and the words that I used. When I got home, Sam was surprised at how female I could sound after only one session.
That evening we were going to attend our first support group meeting. Sam said that I would need to look as if I was in transition. My hair style was now feminine and I borrowed a pair of Sam’s moonstone studs for my ears. I agreed for Sam to put some light make up on me, weird. I put on my one silky cream blouse a camisole and a pair of women’s jeans as my first time dressed in female clothes. Sam also made me wear satin panties for the first time. I felt vulnerable and stupid in my outfit. If I had not had the corset on, there is no way that I could have got the waist band of my jeans to close. The seat was still a baggy and the panties felt tight. The end result was an androgynous looking male. No one looking at me in the light would mistake me as female, especially with the broken nose.
I was consciously playing a part. I did not feel, in the slightest, feminine. I was still me, mucking about.
The meeting took place in the local LGBT centre. What a motley crew. There were some couples there, much older than us. The transwomen were very varied in their look. Almost all were taller and bulkier than their partners. One was over six feet tall but elegant. Others went from looking like a docker in drag to a middle aged housewife who had put on too much weight. Amongst the unfortunates, there were a few younger ones who looked quite feminine and a couple who looked very attractive. It was clear that there were more singles than couples. One of the group, who had completed SRS some years before, gave a talk. She was smart elegant and very female. After the talk we mingled and chatted. There were so many sad tales of rejection and isolation. Some tales were of those who had taken their own lives because of the misery and rejection that they had met on their journey. There were also a very few joyous tales from those that had found love and contentment along the way.
At the end of the evening we said our farewells and that we would meet again next month I had been nervous that I would have to explain myself to the group and make up lies to a group of people who deserved the truth. There was no problem, acceptance was unquestioning.
We were both very sad after the meeting. The bravery shown by the members of the group was humbling. The sadness was because of how much many of them had had to leave behind them and how much hurt they had had to inflict on others including wives and children.
At the end of the week I got a letter asking me to attend the clinic of the endocrinologist for an initial check.
The gaffs arrived and Sam suggested that I start getting used to tucking. She also suggested that I start wearing female underwear fulltime. Everything seemed to be rushing at me. I wanted to leave it a little longer before I went that far. Sam had her way and I underwent the discomfort of the gaff. My balls were pushed back into me, very uncomfortable, and my old man tucked back. The only good thing was that my panties now fitted snugly. I was aware of the discomfort of the gaff all day and it was such a relief to take it off at night. I thoroughly enjoyed having a good rummage until things felt back to normal.
By the end of week two, I was becoming far more aware of things feminine. I was starting to get more knowledgeable about clothing and makeup. I got some strange looks when I unconsciously practiced my female voice when I was out. A lovely smile and a wink were a gift from an obviously gay male. He even looked me in the eye and tilted his head as if to ask me if I was interested. That was the first time to my knowledge that I had ever appeared on someone’s Gaydar. My posture was very upright and we had got the waist down another inch to 26 inches. The corset was not at the front of my mind, until I had to bend or twist.
Chapter 8
Week three saw another visit for electrolysis, more yoga, more dieting and more voice practice. At the same time we had been tendering for a couple of new contracts. We were both going flat out. I had lost four pounds in two weeks and my face was looking much smoother. My dress and makeup knowledge was growing. We went shopping again and I actually picked out a few soft sweaters and camisoles that complemented each other.
We purchased a basic makeup set for me and Sam and I practiced some simple make up in the evenings. By the end of the week I was wearing camisoles and soft sweaters rather than shirts. That weekend we had been invited to a party. I reverted to masculine wear and Sam wore a very sexy outfit. We had a wonderful night with our friends. The only problem was Doug. He was cold and distant and I felt that had it not been for patient confidentiality, he would have outed me there and then.
When I went to the clinic, I gave what seemed to be copious amounts of blood. I was measured, weighed, scanned and x rayed. My body was manipulated and probed endlessly. Hair and semen samples were taken and by the end I felt exhausted both mentally and emotionally. It was going to take a week for the samples to be checked and get the results. Going private had speeded things up massively. Had I gone through the NHS it would have taken so much longer.
The third week in many ways saw us settling into a routine. I was working at home wearing androgynous outfits. I was selecting my own outfits from my small stash of clothes and I actually tried on a pair of the silk underwear that Sam had bought. They felt slinky and made me think of sex every time I moved. I was hooked on them if nothing else. I was practicing my female voice as much as possible and forgot when talking to one of our clients. The client thought we had taken on a new member of staff. I was asked if Tom was available, so I put the phone down, picked it up and answered in my man’s voice.
We had not been to see my mum and dad since before we started. Dad was fine and the same as always, apart from making pointed comments about my ear studs. Mum kept looking at me in a thoughtful way.
“Tom, have you been losing weight?”
“Tom, that is an unusual hairstyle for you.”
“Tom, when did you start wearing ear studs?”
“Tom, your nails are looking a bit long, is there anything we ought to be talking about?”
Three weeks in and she had twigged something was happening. I didn’t come clean then, but I knew it would not be long before she would need to know.
Into week four and the routine continued. I was starting to become proficient at simple make up, my speech was confidently female and my knowledge of fashion was growing. More visits for electrolysis, more dieting, more yoga and more hormones. Towards the end of the week I had a quiet moment reflecting on what had happened so far. I looked in the mirror and was very aware of the small amount of make up round my eyes. I also thought about the surgery that I would be having the following week. Suddenly it all became too much and I started sobbing. I could not stop. I never cried and now I was a soggy wailing mess. Sam heard and came to me. We clung together and she stroked my hair and gently rocked me. I felt like a four year old who had been told that Christmas was cancelled. I had never felt emotional in this way before. I had never sobbed before.
“Welcome to the world of women Tom. Hormones 1, Tom 0.”
It was the first time I had been aware of the effect that the hormones were having on me. I just wanted to curl up and be comforted. Even then it had still not hit home. I was playing a part. It was an exercise. It was not real at a fundamental, life changing level.
Week five was due to start and first I would be meeting with the endocrinologist and then, at the end of the week I would be having surgery on my face. Come the weekend, people would know something was happening. We decided that I had to tell my parents. Sunday lunch was the chosen time. My mother was like a crack detective, ready for the killer interview.
“Now Thomas, you have obviously been hiding something and it is time to spill the beans. Are you ill? Is Sam pregnant? Is your company in difficulties? Have you been letting yourself and Sam down and got involved with another woman?”
We sat down and went through the whole sorry tale.
“Why don’t you go to the police? What Justin is doing can’t be legal.”
“I’m afraid it is mum, we have had it checked out every way.”
“But you can not do it Thomas. What you are setting out to do is cheat and lie to some poor unsuspecting man. You are aiming to trick some poor soul enough to fall in love with you and propose marriage. Then you are going to drop the poor man and break his heart. I have brought you up to be more caring than that.”
“Mum, I have no option. We need to buy time to find a way out. I hope it won’t come to getting some poor man to fall in love with me.”
“If you and Sam want to go through with the feminization, then that is entirely up to you, but I do not condone cheating others.”
It surprised me that she had not baulked at the hormones and surgery. It was only the moral issue that she stuck at. Dad was predictably mad at the situation. Once we reassured him that we were still planning to provide him with grandchildren he calmed down for a short while. He was soon making plans as to how he was going to arrange Justin’s death. Even Mum thought that was a better solution than conning some poor soul.
It took a lot of persuading dad that killing Justin may be justifiable, but was a non runner. We would be the obvious suspects, even if we could make it look like an accident. We told mum and dad that we still had 47 weeks to find a way out.
After establishing that we were trapped for now, mum was full of questions, wanting to know what I was going to do, how I was going to do it and what the residual effects would be. It was late when we finished talking and went home.
On the Monday, Jackie started with us. Her delight at becoming part of the team, was infectious. For the first time in weeks I felt happy and positive. Jackie had done some freelance work for Justin's company in the past and had hated it. She thought that Justin's work was sloppy and of poor quality. He cut corners everywhere, but he seemed to invest large amounts in procuring contracts and entertaining the buyers. Jackie had heard rumours that the software installation on the project behind the wager was behind schedule and not going well.
Justin was a very capable software designer, but lazy and with little pride in his work. He had always been wealthier than me. The reason being, that his parents had been killed in an accident when he was at university. The compensation cheque, the insurance money and his inheritance had left him very comfortably off. Two years later his grandmother's brother died in Australia and left him at least another fifteen million pounds. Justin mixed with some pretty iffy people but he had the bucks to pay his way. His net worth was well over twenty million pounds to our knowledge. The income from his company was pocket money, his investments elsewhere kept him in luxury. Jackie suspected that the software company may be more of a front to launder money from his other activities.
When we told Jackie about Justin's link with the Thai brothel and the disappearing young tourists, she was not surprised.
Our discussions started an idea of how we could get out from under Justin. Finding enough dirt on Justin could enable us to get him arrested and put where he could do no harm. Jackie knew a fair bit about his internet links, servers and local computer systems. With that knowledge we could try to get into his system and find some incriminating evidence. We could also dig into his contacts and his other businesses.
I felt a lot more cheerful now that we had the seeds of an idea of how we were going to fight back. The only problem was that none of us were capable of more than very simple hacking.
Chapter 9
There were four big events in week five. The first was unsettling and made me very nervous. My nipples had started to get puffy, sensitive and painful. It was another wake up to what I was doing to myself. The pain I could stand but the constant rubbing as I moved was driving me mad. Sam suggested that I start wearing the training bras that we had bought. It seemed ridiculous but I went ahead and did what I was told. They were a little tight but with full adjustment we could make them comfortable. I could no longer wear shirts without the straps showing. I started wearing baggy sweaters all the time when I went out and a simple camisole top when at home.
The bras did their work. It might have felt strange but the irritation was gone. It was interesting when my nipples were exposed, they tended to become rigid. The other thing was that my areolas had started to expand a little and darken. Sam and I had another visit to Marks and Spencer. This time I was a bit more adventurous in my choice of colour, styles and materials. I thought that I may as well enjoy the sensation of wearing women’s underwear.
The second event was my visit to the endocrinologist. For the visit I wore my ladies jeans, panties, bra, camisole and cashmere sweater. I also wore discrete make up, my best ear studs and a bangle round my wrist. I was definitely on the female side of androgyny. My beard was not showing, my skin had started to soften and I had lost half a stone. My muscle definition was just starting to soften. All that said, with my broken nose, masculine face and muscular build, I looked like a very butch woman. My mannerisms and behaviour were still normal male.
"Well Thomas, may I call you Thomas?"
"Tom will be fine."
"Well Tom it would seem that you have been somewhat foolhardy. Your samples showed very low levels of testosterone for a male and levels of female hormones that would have been high, even for a pregnant woman. You have been self medicating."
"Guilty as charged."
"Before we go any further I must emphasise how dangerous and foolhardy it is to self medicate. I do not know how long you have been doing it, but you are very lucky. All the other tests show that, so far, you have not damaged your liver or your heart or in fact any other organ. Whatever decisions we make today, you must promise to follow medical advice and guidance."
"I was desperate. I felt that I had no other option than to self medicate."
The doctor then quized me as to what I had taken, in what quantities and for how long. A thorough examination followed. He took it in his stride that I was wearing female clothes, it seemed that it was what was expected.
"At the moment your sperm is still active and numerous. The longer you take hormones the more your fertility will decline. You could be effectively infertile in four to six months. Have you saved some sperm for future use?"
"Yes, we did that a couple of weeks ago."
"Your breasts are the very early stages of budding. I see you have started wearing a bra. How do you feel about this growth?"
"Happy as a sand girl, I can't wait for them to develop."
"Breast development in MtoF transitions often disappoints. You may end up with cone shaped breasts, uneven development and you may not get beyond Tanner stage two. Are you intending to have breast augmentation?"
"Yes, in about five months time."
"Hm, that may be a bit too soon. It would be better to see how your breasts develop before augmentation. At the very least, make sure that your implants can be changed or altered. Breast growth can continue for years in some cases. What does your wife think of what you are doing?"
"She is very supportive. She knows exactly why I am doing this and has promised to support me all the way. Whatever the outcome for me, we intend to have at least two children."
"What about your sexual orientation?"
"I love my wife and have no intention of being with anyone else, however much I change."
"Have you ever had any sexual relations with a male?
“No”
“How far do you want to go? Do you want an orchiectomy, full SRS?"
"I don't know yet, but I do know that I must be able to live as a woman."
"Do you still have heterosexual intercourse with your wife?"
"Yes"
"Have you had any problems with erectile function?"
"No."
"You do realise that if you continue down this track, you will eventually become impotent, you will become chemically castrated, your testicles and your penis will reduce in size?"
"Yes"
"And you are content for this to happen?"
"Yes"
In giving the answers I expected my nose to grow. There was no way that I wanted to travel too far down the transition route. I wanted to keep my cock and balls in all their glory. I wanted to stay as a virile manly man. I wanted to go no further than I absolutely had to. The sooner we could find a way out of the mess we were in, the better. I knew that I was consciously running towards something that I dreaded.
We talked on for another half hour. Before we parted, he gave me injections in both hips, some pills to take and made me an appointment to see a psychiatrist in one weeks time. He made me promise to bin all the illicit drugs that I had. He finished by saying that he wanted to see me in two weeks time and further hormone treatment would be dependent on the psychiatrist's report.'
Sam wanted a blow by blow account of my first session with the quack and was not at all sympathetic about the ache in my but from the injections. That night when we made love, it was the first time that Sam had made a thing of playing with my sensitive nipples. It was such a wild feeling that I came far too quickly and my orgasm was intense. I could get to like having women’s nipples.
The following day was cosmetic surgery time. I arrived early at the clinic and after a further examination, I was prepped for surgery. The surgeon had decided to use a general anaesthetic and I did not come round until much later that evening. My whole head ached. It was so bad, that it was difficult to locate the seat of the pain. I was sick in a pan and only vaguely acknowledged Sam before a sedative sent me back to sleep. When I woke in the morning, I felt rough. I had bandages everywhere round my head. The surgeon told me that he was extremely pleased with the outcome and sent me home with some industrial strength painkillers. I was to return in a week to have all the dressings removed.
When I looked in a mirror I was reminded of the invisible man film. All I could see looking out at me were two black eyes. I looked as though I had gone ten rounds with the heavy weight champion. I just hoped that the changes would be reversible if and when we got Justin off our backs.
Chapter 10
That weekend we worked on ideas of how to get inside knowledge of Justin’s operation. Jackie had decided that she wanted to be part of the “get Justin” team. The first target was to trawl through all the public information that we could get and then back that up by hacking into his systems.
The biggest problem that we had, was a lack of hacking knowledge. Jackie gave us a solution when she told us about her partner Tim. He was a compulsive hacker and he was very good at it.
It was clear that, with our increasing workload and the amount of time I was taking away from the business, that we could do with extra hands. Jackie agreed to talk with Tim and see if he would join us. Tim was a brilliant computer wiz, but he did not have the focus or desire to set up his own company. We could afford to take on an extra member of staff and it would give me more head space and time to get on with my transition.
We were now into week six. Sam noticed that my muscle tone was becoming less defined. My shoulders, arms and neck were looking slimmer. My bum was no longer buns of steel and had softened a bit. My puffy nipples continued to ache. My visits for electrolysis were on hold while my face healed and I was now wearing my training bra as a matter of course. When I looked in the mirror I could see the bandages on my face and from the waist up my clothing was quite feminine. It was a constant reminder of what I was doing to myself. My sleep patterns were now very disturbed and I spent my waking hours worrying about my direction of travel. Sam felt helpless. She could sense my discomfort but could do little practical to make me feel better.
One thing that I noticed was that it was getting easier and less painful to put the gaff on. I would also go a whole day without feeling the need for a rummage.
I still moved and acted like the man I was. Apart from modifying my voice my behaviour was unchanged. The underwear would make me stop and think now and again and the corset was difficult to forget. I practiced the make up and read women’s magazines, but I was still me. The only change that I had found pleasant was the softness of the camisole tops and the silkiness of the panties.
Tim came in to see us on the Monday and said that he would be delighted to join the team. He was excited to have an excuse to hack away without being nagged by Jackie. In the short run, he had some outstanding work to complete, but he was going to join us for two days a week to start with.
In our house we had a large studio. The previous owner had been a renowned potter and this had been her workshop. The studio had power and heating and we had installed state of the art computers and internet connections. This was where we worked. It was a large area that we had designed to be our ideal work space. Our comfort was provided for by the comfy chairs and sofas. Our entertainment included sound systems, a dart board and a table tennis table. The inner programmer was catered for in a well equipped galley kitchen. The walls were covered in white boards where we mapped out our ideas.
I started finding as much as I could about Justin’s companies. Initially, I had thought that Justin’s software company was his only registered company. Not so, it was a subsidiary of a bigger company and he appeared to have directorships of several other companies. The next thing was to map the companies, what they owned, what they had returned as accounts, who the directors were and what data I could get from companies house.
The first thing that struck me, was the list of people who kept recurring as directors. The next step was to google both the directors and the companies. It was clear that several were shells and some were holding companies in tax havens. The directors were an interesting crowd. Two were straight forward, they were Justin’s accountant and his lawyer. The remainder were a mixed bunch. There were several names that were asian and some that looked eastern European.
The research kept me busy until my meeting with the psychiatrist. I had decided to look as feminine as I could for our meeting. I wore my gaff to give me a smooth line in the crutch and wore my best embroidered stretchy jeans, they were a much better fit around my hips and waist now. I could not wear the full corset with the jeans, so I wore a cinch around my waist. I wore my training bra, a camisole and one of my newly acquired soft polo neck jumpers. The neck line covered the bandage on my throat.
I went with Sam for another shopping trip and purchased a pair of jeans boots with a one and a half inch heel and a fitted three quarter length jacket. I wore the boots away from the shop despite the strange looks I had received from the sales assistant. I was just able to fit into the top end sizes of the normal female shoe sizes. I put on subtle but effective make up by myself. It was becoming a habit to put a little make up on each day. It was weird standing next to Sam at night cleaning our makeup off and moisturizing.
Had it not been for my face being covered in dressings and the bruising now starting to turn yellow, I would have looked like an unremarkable butch female.
I had been practicing my female mannerisms, voice and movement. It was becoming possible for me to get into character some of the time. Mostly I would forget and revert to my normal behaviour.
The psychiatrist was a good looking youngish woman with a very direct manner. I was very glad that I had been very thorough in my research and that I had worked out what my back story was. I was so into my story that my gender dysphoria was starting to feel real as I described it. I was so into my story that at one stage I was overcome by a feeling of helplessness and burst into tears. This was getting scary. What was real and what was a performance? At the end of the session, the psychiatrist confirmed an interim diagnosis of gender dysphoria. We arranged to have monthly monitoring sessions. She struck me as a very nice supportive person.
When I got back to base, Tim asked for us all to get together.
“Sam, Tom, you know that you suggested that I have a trawl through the recent systems that you have designed to familiarize myself with your methodology. Well, do you ever access your files and make modifications when you are off site?”
“Only from our tablets and occasionally from the big laptop.”
“Are you sure that you have never accessed the system from any other computers?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. I think you have been hacked. I found traces that your files have been accessed by at least one other outsider. Whoever it is, they have covered their tracks well.”
“Shit, I bet that was Justin. I wondered how he was so knowledgeable about our work. Can we do anything about it?”
“I can try and trace who has hacked, but the first priority is to increase you protection. I will get started straight away.”
It was becoming clearer by the day that Justin was not only a shit, but was probably into a greater variety of illegal operations than we had originally thought.
At the end of the week I went to have my dressings removed. The results were startling and un nerving. Sam’s immediate comment was that I looked like my seventeen year old self only more female. If you discounted the residual swelling and the discoloration of the bruising, there was an innocent young face looking out. I could not stop studying my face in the mirror. Gone were the broken nose and the strong jaw line. The face was softer, the eyes now looked bigger and for some reason the lips looked fuller. I was looking at a face that could even be called pretty. It was so strange. It was still me but definitely not the old me. Sam could not stop inspecting my face.
It was not possible to judge any change in my forehead because it was still a little swollen. My jaw line was noticeably different. It was much less strong. It looked as though it had much less width. If I looked at it as male it looked young and immature. It looked all wrong. It was not me as a younger man, it was a female version of me. The nose was more of a difference. It had first been broken back when I was sixteen and had suffered further damage since then. The nose that I looked at now, was one that I had never seen on this face before. It was not me. I could recognize myself, but it was a very unsettling and alien version of myself. Apart from the bruising and swelling, I looked just like the surgeon had showed me on his computer. It had not really sunk in that it was how I was going to end up. I was no longer me, I had a female looking face, strong, but female.
When we made love that night, Sam kept closing her eyes. When we cuddled afterwards she told me that it had felt a bit strange. When she looked into my eyes, she kept seeing a woman and it kept disconnecting her from what we were doing. It also felt like she was being unfaithful to Tom, making love to this different person. When she closed her eyes it was still me and it felt right.
It worried me that after only six weeks, Sam was starting to feel that I was different. I knew that I looked different but I did not feel different. I was still that good old bloke Tom inside.
Chapter 11
Into week seven and our lives were changing more significantly and faster than we had anticipated. Sam had confided in her friend Sally about what was happening and why. I had also confided in my old friend Don. Both were sympathetic and offered any help that they could. We knew that we could not tell the rest of our friends and acquaintances or else Justin would soon get wind of it and call in the wager.
It was clear that with my facial surgery, the loss of my beard and the softening in my facial features from the hormones, that something was afoot. What we had decided was that we would tell people that I had a hormonal condition that was affecting me physically and mentally and that I would be undergoing changes that Sam and I would have to live with. One or two friends looked at the new me and shied away. Most were curious, because I looked so different, and asked question after question. It was difficult to come up with answers, to the barrage of questions, that made any sense.
Sam and I talked it through and decided that it would be easier to avoid our old haunts and seek out new places to go. We could drop out of our old circle until we could get out from under Justin. We would keep in touch with Sally and Don. We also had Tim and Jackie in our inner circle. I had met up with Rose, my contact from the transgender chat line. Rose was around forty years old. She was what one might call a handsome woman rather than being pretty. She stood a little taller than me and was dressed immaculately in a skirt, blouse and jacket. She wore conservative heels and her hair, make up and jewelry spoke of a successful and confident businesswoman.
When Sam met her they struck up an immediate friendship. Rose was warm and wise. She had married young and was had been the father of two children. At the time she had married she had been struggling with her gender issues. Her life became too problematic when she was in her late twenties and she came out to her wife. She had qualified as an accountant and was already a junior partner in an accountancy firm. She decided that she had to become the woman that she had resisted all her life. The accountancy firm supported her and so did her wife to start with. Rose’s transition started and over a two year period, she took hormones and lived as a woman. She had undertaken a small amount of cosmetic surgery but nothing major at first.
Her wife found that she could no longer live with her after she had undergone the full sexual reassignment. The separation was amicable and Rose still had a lot of contact with her two girls, who were now both at university. Rose’s wife had remarried ten years ago. Rose, herself, had no permanent partner but she had a couple of very good male friends. She said that they were friends with benefits and, for her, it was the perfect arrangement. She liked living on her own. She had a lot of good friends and enjoyed music, theatre and the arts. She was happy, contented and successful in her career.
It was good to meet someone who was so together. She had already been a font of information and advice. She did, however, make it very clear that the road that I was on would certainly be rocky.
We had our first indication of things to come when I had a disturbing phone call from an erstwhile rugby team mate. He phoned me up to say that he had heard that I was turning into a disgusting, queer ladyboy and that it was in my interests to stay away from the rugby club. He hinted that there could be violence if I didn’t. Two days later another old friend hit on Sam for a date saying that now that I had gone queer he could show Sam what a real man was like. We were only seven weeks in and it was all kicking off.
I had my first follow up visit to the endocrinologist. After a full examination and a testing of blood and urine we sat down for a chat.
“Well Tom, you seem to be a very lucky person. Your testosterone levels have reduced right down. Your body seems to be taking to female hormones as if you were born a woman. I think that you will be lucky that your development of secondary female characteristics will be both rapid and full. You are a rare person in my experience.”
I’m not sure that I was very pleased with his congratulations. He gave me follow up shots and arranged for me to see him in four weeks time.
I had been wearing the gaff and the corset for six weeks now and in my best ladies jeans, I already looked convincingly female. I may not have had a bust, but with ear studs, a female face and haircut and my gaff and corset, I was addressed as madam more often in shops. I habitually used my female voice now, but my behaviour and mannerisms were still noticeably male. I was self conscious about the image I presented. I think a lot of people suspected that I was, either, a guy in drag, or a very butch female. If I got angry or agitated I forgot my female voice and became very alpha male. I had the look but not the behaviour.
At our transgender support group meeting I was just treated as one of the gang. Both Sam and I found the meeting sad in so many ways. The people who were transitioning but still looked very male appeared to us heroic but sad. We had both come away from the meeting feeling depressed despite the courage and optimism of some of the group members. We decided not to go again.
Now that my face was healing I restarted my electrolysis. It was a lot less painful now and any regrowth was much finer now.
We had three new enquiries about potential contracts and with our normal maintenance work, all four of us were going flat out. We had no time for any research into Justin’s affairs. My progress into being able to pass as a woman was ahead of the target plan that we had drawn up in every way except my mannerisms and behaviour. I don’t know whether I was more pleased or more worried. I had now lost over ten pounds in weight and was starting to look slim for a man, but chunky for a woman. I had lost strength but the aerobics and yoga had made me much more flexible.
At the weekend we went out with Tim and Jackie for a meal and then onto a club. I had dressed as androgynously as I could and tried very hard to act in a female way. I was called miss or madam most of the time. I was getting upset and wanted to call it a day but the others said that if I was going to continue with the plan, I would have to get used to it. I suppose that I must have looked like a flat chested woman, who did not dress attractively and had fairly masculine mannerisms. I did not get hit on by any men but Sam did, much to her amusement and my annoyance. It was clear that I was agitated when men approached her and more than one man referred to me as a jealous dyke. Some just referred to me as a tranny. It was not a pleasant experience. I longed to be able to get back to being good old masculine me.
Into week eight and we were still busy with presenting our proposals for three new customers. We were going flat out. I was painfully aware of the tenderness in my nipples and wore a bra as a matter of course now. I was finding it impossible to get into my old jeans and chinos now. My waist was much slimmer but my bum and hips seem to have expanded. I had bought some loose sweats that I wore around the house and the studio. I had also bought a few more pairs of slacks and jeans that fitted my newly developing shape.
Our love life was as wonderful and active as ever, but Sam had got into the habit of closing her eyes when we made love. I already knew why and I found it troubling. My nipples were now very sensitive and I loved the feeling when Sam played with them and when she licked and kissed and sucked on them. We would have lovely cuddly times when we kissed and played with each others nipples. Sam liked to keep those times separate to when we made love. After we had made love one time she told me that I smelt different now. It was almost like making love to a different person.
This whole experience was strange. In some ways it drew us closer together, in other ways it pushed us apart. Sam and I talked much more freely about what we were feeling and thinking. Sam was more open about her wants and her fears. She was also much more confiding about her emotions. I found that I was happy to talk much more about my feelings. The only draw back was the feeling that my bodily changes were unsettling her. She was very supportive, though, continuously coaching me about my mannerisms. I could get the female me working for chunks of time before I forgot and reverted to Tom. It took too much concentration.
Chapter 12
Tim had taken time out to both strengthen our defences against hacking and to see if he could find a way into Justin’s system. I had got as much information as I could from a company search of Justin’s company. It surprised us that the turnover recorded for his company was many times what we expected. Our company turnover was now up to just over two million and growing fast. Justin’s company was showing a turnover in excess of twenty million. I knew that we had beaten Justin to most of the local contracts so I could not see how he could post such a large turnover. Tim undertook to try and see if he could hack into either the accountants or Justin’s systems.
During the week we had two pleasant surprises. One of the rugby crowd, John got in touch and suggested that we meet for a drink. I wasn’t sure how to deal with his suggestion but agreed to meet him. With my changed face and changing body, I decided to wear clothes that were female or at best androgynous, even when I went out. I wore female clothes at work as a matter of course. I had not tried wearing skirts or dresses, it was always trousers or jeans. The softness of the tops, however, and the slinky snugness of the panties were a pleasure. I had started to check how I looked every time I passed a mirror. I was already looking slightly more girl than boy.
When we met John was all smiles and gave the same old man hug as normal. I suspect that in doing so he could feel my bra strap. He was unphased.
“Hi Tom, I hope you don’t mind me getting in touch but I have heard a bundle of rumours about you.”
I was wary but I decided to let him continue.
“I can see now that the rumours were at least partially true. I will come straight out with what I was going to say and you can either tell me to bugger off or to stay. I believe that you are undertaking either a partial or full transition from male to female. I want you to know that I had a cousin with whom I was very close, he or she suffered severe gender dysphoria and started to transition. I supported where I could but she met with such aggression and opposition from family friends and colleagues that in the end she could not cope and committed suicide. I knew that I should have done more to help. I want you to know that, if that is what is happening, then I am in your corner. I hope I haven’t made an awful mistake.”
I was moved by his offer of support and to my severe embarrassment, I nearly burst into tears. After the comments from others at the rugby club, this was so nice. It took me a few moments to gather myself. I then told John an edited version of what was happening. Kind as he had been, we already had too many people knowing the full story.
During the same week one of Sam’s friends also said to her that if I was transitioning she supported the two of us. We had not lost all contact with the outside world.
Towards the end of the week we got the good news that we had been successful with the smallest of the three bids for new work. Our reputation was growing and we would probably need to take on more staff if the growth continued.
Sam and I continued our lessons in feminine behaviour, make up and fashion. I was now getting to the stage that I could recognize and describe colours. I could tell the difference between styles and types of clothing and I was becoming competent at make up. My nipples and areolas had continued to grow. They were still very sensitive and painful. Sam reckoned that there was a small amount of swelling behind the nipple. I was glad of my training bra. I was continuing with the electrolysis and I was getting less and less repeat growth. My face had softened and with the swelling and bruising going, I now had a face that looked young and very female. Whenever I caught a view of myself in a mirror or a shop window, I did not recognize myself. My mannerisms were becoming a little more unconsciously female. Far fewer people clocked me as male. It only really happened when I lost concentration. I noticed that both Sam and Jackie were becoming more gossipy with me. They were unconsciously starting to treat me as a woman.
The strangest time of the day was both morning and evening. When I got up in the morning I no longer had to shave but I brushed my teeth and put on some light makeup. The hand hat I could see had painted nails. It looked as though it belonged to someone else. The face that I saw in the mirror was not me. It felt wrong. In the evening I saw that same face in the mirror again.
During the day, I definitely did not feel feminine in any way. I was very consciously playing a part. There was so much going on that I was able to play the part without having to stop and think too deeply about it.
Tim had some limited success with his hacking. He managed to get into Justin’s system but could not crack the areas that were encrypted. What he did find however was a more detailed copy of Justin’s accounts and access to some of Justin’s emails. The accounts were not very detailed but they did show what parts of the world the turnover came from. There was significant income from Thailand, USA, Jamaica and France. There was no indication as to what the turnover was based on. From Jackie and Tim’s experience working as freelancers for Justin, it was not feasible that these were software contracts. The turnover credited to the UK was far higher than was realistic.
We thought that we already knew the probable source of the Thai money. The income from the brothel, bar and trafficking, probably accounted for that. It was clear to us that Justin was using the systems development company to launder his nefarious income. We needed to be able to dig further and try to build a case that we could take to the police.
Weeks ten to sixteen in Tom’s journey. Tom and his wife are starting to get more inside information on Justin’s business, but are no further forward in trying to escape from his evil control. Tom is starting to find himself acting more often as a woman without thinking. Sam is realizing just what this journey means to their life together.
Chapter 13
Week ten and more good news, we had been successful in both of the other contract bids. We would now have to advertise for another member of staff. I had my second visit to the psychiatrist that week. I was worried how to approach it. Sam suggested that it was time that I went the whole hog and dressed completely as a woman. It was becoming increasingly difficult to look anything convincingly male. My outward appearance was quite female but I still had a lot of old macho Tom in my actions. I wasn’t thinking female unless I worked at it.
I got dressed in my most female outfit of jeans, soft sweater and short jacket worn with a pair of flat ankle boots. We hit the shops. It was confusing and overwhelming. First it was underwear, slips and blouses and t shirts and stockings and tights. Night attire was unnecessary because we both slept in the nude. I did, however, get a silky dressing gown. We then started on skirts and tops with a couple of dresses, one to just above the knee and one to mid calf. Two coats, three handbags and four pairs of shoes later and we started to accessorise. Dangly ear rings, new studs, rings, bangles a couple of necklaces and two scarves later and we were nearly done. The last stop was to get more make up that suited my colour and to arrange a visit to the hairdresser. I had enjoyed the shopping exercise for the first time. Shoe shopping was a blast, so much choice in style colour and heel height. I was getting hooked on retail.
From now on I was going to wear more overtly women’s clothes full time. We bumped into one or two people that we knew. Some cut us dead, others nodded and said hello. When we returned home Sam had me give her a fashion show. We discussed what items went together and what clashed. Sam suggested that I wear a heeled shoe more often, just to get used to the different balance. From that point on I started wearing skirts and tops and adding heavy tights when I went out. By now I had lost nearly a stone and my muscle definition was fading fast. We decided to do without the corset from now on because of the discomfort and restriction in my movement. My waist was now comfortably down to 28 inches without the corset and with the increased padding on my hips and bum, I was starting to look a bit curvy. My breasts were more than just nipples now. There was a definite but small fleshiness under each nipple. It was strange when I was doing aerobics because I could feel a slight but definite jiggle.
When I first started trying out the skirts I felt very exposed. The tighter longer skirts made me feel less exposed but they restricted my movement in an uncomfortable way. The shorter, full cut, skirts were comfortable to wear but the wind about my willie was unnerving. When I wore a short skater style skirt and thick tights, I felt both free and protected. Sam said that now I was dressing overtly as a woman, I should get a bigger cup bra and start enhancing my breasts with fillets. She then proceeded to dig through her clothes and came up with two things that looked like chicken breasts. When I asked what the hell they were, Sam explained that she had been a very late developer and had used every help she could get. It meant another visit to the lingerie shop and new bras. With my little swellings and the fillets I could now show a convincing A cup bust line. It made me look more balanced.
Dresses were another matter. I just could not feel comfortable in a dress. They just did not feel right. Somehow they were too girly in a way that a skirt and tights were not.
When I saw the psychiatrist, I was smartly dressed in a skirt and blouse with a pair of heavy tights. I wore drop ear rings and modest make up. The drop ear rings had a strong effect on me. Every time I moved my head, I could feel them bump on my neck. It was a constant reminder of what I was doing to myself, even when I could not see reflections of what I looked like. Whilst I still hated the idea of being a woman, I loved the way that they brushed my neck. My nails were coated in a soft pink and I wore two rings on each hand. My hair was now getting longer and with all the conditioning treatment it had been getting, it bounced and shone. My shoes were a modest pair of casuals with a one inch heel. I did not get one person clock me as male and I received several appraising looks from women and interested looks from men. I was getting away with looking like a tallish, elegant but heavily built woman.
I took a pride in looking smart and keeping my make up reserved but fresh. I had started wearing lipstick. It was strange when I kissed Sam. It unnerved her.
The psychiatrist gave me an intense grilling. How did I feel about dressing full time? What was the reaction of my family? What was the reaction of my wife? Were we still having regular sex? How was it? How did I feel about it? Was I getting any erectile difficulties? Was there any change in my sexual orientation? What emotional problems was I having? What did I feel about the physical changes? What did I see as the future of Sam and me? Did I want to go for full sexual reassignment? What support groups was I part of?
I answered the questions trying hard to ensure that I was still coming across as someone who wanted to realign their sex to come into line with their emotional and mental gender. The questions were making me think at a much deeper level about the path that I was on and the possible consequences.
Sam questioned me deeply about my visit and the answers that I had given. She was quiet and thoughtful for quite a time afterwards. I still thought of myself as Tom, the bloke, but I suppose that I was unconsciously becoming less blokey and more female. I wasn’t aware of it but I think that some of the time, I wasn’t playing at being female but actually being female. I was finding that I was using female mannerisms and behaviour more often and less consciously.
People were treating me as female and that felt very different. I was addressed differently in shops. Men treated me quite differently, it had been a gradual thing, but now it was very noticeable. I found it irritating, because I was still me, although I was putting on an act.
Now that my face had changed, I knew that I no longer looked like a bloke, but I still felt like one. It was strange. I was still very male but I did not dislike my new face. It was much more attractive than my old face. Even though it still did not feel like mine. I quite liked the fact that I could use make up to make it even better. I liked the fact that my choice of clothing had become much more interesting, fun and challenging. I could see why women enjoyed shopping and clothes.
Whilst I had been at the psychiatrists, Sam had made a breakthrough with our Justin research. She had discovered the addresses of properties in London and Manchester owned by one of Justin’s subsidiaries. One property in Manchester appeared to be a large Victorian building. The other two properties appeared to be clubs. We decided to go and scout them out.
We went to look at the London address. It was a club in the Earls Court/ Hammersmith area. We went and had a coffee at a place just opposite and watched it for a while. There was little outside to give much idea what sort of club it was, just a sign saying The Kit Kat Club. A rather large gentleman stood at the door in a dark suit. It seemed strange to see what looked like a bouncer on the door at three in the afternoon. The clientele, going in and out, were an odd bunch. It was mostly men, singly or in small groups. None of the men looked particularly cuddly. Most looked distinctly scary. There were the odd women going in. Without exception, they were dressed much more sexily than one would expect at three in the afternoon.
We speculated what sort of establishment this might be and all we could come up with, was that it was a strip joint, sex club or something similar. We decided that the easiest way would be to go and ask the bouncer about the club. Sam did the talking.
“High handsome, we are new to this area and have been scouting out places that might be fun to go to. What sort of a club is this? Is it one where we could have some fun, do some dancing, meet sexy guys?”
“Come back after nine girls, the club is open to outsiders then. During the day it is a private members club. In the evening there is music and dancing and all pretty girls are welcome free of charge. I can guarantee you some action if you come.”
“Thanks handsome, we might well take you up on that.”
The place looked a bit risky but we thought that it was worth checking what was going on in the club.
When we got home we looked to see what sort of outfits we could wear to the club. Sam had plenty of sexy outfits but all mine were a bit conservative. Nothing ventured, we went out and found a sexy number that came to mid thigh and showed a fair bit of cleavage that I did not have. Next we were off to Victoria secrets for a push up bra and the purchase of a pair of fillet fillers.
Sam showed me how to use tape to push and lift my minimal breasts together, then with the bra cups filled with fillets under my miniscule breasts, my cleavage looked almost impressive.
“Where did you learn that trick?”
“You forget that I was a late developer and I used every trick in the trade until my girls grew to their happy size.”
“And most lovely they are too. Let me just admire them more closely.”
“Behave, you can play later but now we have a mission to fulfil.”
When we were ready to go we looked like a pair of sexy girls. That was no surprise in Sam’s case but it shocked me that I could look convincingly female. We took a taxi to the club and arrived about ten o clock. It was clear that the action had started. There were two new bouncers on the door and when one saw us in the queue he waved us forward and ushered us in. Inside the club was dark and loud. There was plenty of seating in booths round the sides. In front of the dance floor was a DJ in a booth. We took an empty booth and a waitress in an extremely short skirt, and a top that barely covered her nipples came and asked us what we would like. We ordered a couple of glasses of wine and sat back and watched.
Even in our sexy outfits we were almost frumpish compared with most of the women in the club. As our eyes got accustomed to the gloom, we realized that there were a number of doors leading off the main room. In no time we were being hit on by guys. Sam advised me to accept no drinks that we did not see poured and not to come back to a drink that had been left. We refused the first few invitations to dance but thought that we should show willing for a while. After half an hour dancing in shoes with a higher heel than I had ever worn before, I was feeling knackered. I had been groped, offered drugs, propositioned, kissed, fondled and asked how much I wanted if we went into one of the side rooms for a shag or a blow job. My inclination had been to get physical and sort the bastards out, but I am not sure I would have had the strength any more.
I had kept an eye on Sam but as I came off the dance floor I lost sight of her. A feeling of panic came over me as I searched, until I saw her being forcibly dragged towards one of the side rooms by a rather large tough looking guy. I got over to her just as he was about to pull her through the door. None of the other punters had looked at all interested in helping her, even though it was clear that she was being forced against her will. I walked up to the guy and with a smile reached towards his face as if I wanted to kiss him. At the same time I ground my stiletto heel into his instep with all my force. A look of surprise and pain went across his face and he released Sam as he bent and clutched his foot. I kneed him in the face and grabbed Sam. We made a rapid escape through the door to the club.
“Thanks love, that was too close for comfort. That wanker offered me fifty quid for a blow job in one of the side rooms. When I refused he said that he might as well have a fuck for free in that case. He was far too strong for me. It was clear from the lack of reaction from the other punters that it wasn’t unusual to see women being forced.”
We hailed a taxi and sped home. That night we were almost frantic with our love making. We had both been shocked and scared. It was clear that the club was as much a knocking shop as a club and that drugs were being openly sold. Justin was making money through drugs and the sex trade. We could see it for ourselves, but how could we use the information against Justin?
One thing that struck me about the evening was that I had dressed fully as a female. I had been able to come across as a fairly sexy woman. I had coped with being groped and molested, without totally reverting to male behaviour. I had played a part convincingly and without having to think too deeply about it. What did that mean about me? The most worrying thing, though, was that my loss of strength meant that I was no longer a match for men that I could have flattened three months ago.
Chapter fourteen
Week eleven and work was going extremely well. We had more enquiries about systems and one enquiry that would be our biggest yet if we got it. We had many applications to sort through and had a group chat with Tim and Jackie to decide what we were looking for in our new team member. We decided to let Jackie and Tim do the initial interviews and create a short list from which Sam and I would pick.
We were wondering how to proceed with our information about the London club when Sam remembered a retired Detective chief inspector who had been a friend of her father’s. She got the contact details from her mum and arranged a meeting. She had given a brief outline of our suspicions about Justin’s set up and her dad’s friend was intrigued.
When they met Sam explained that Justin had a hold over us and we had knowledge that he had been involved in illegal activities. The Bangkok connection was ruled out almost straight away. Unless there was some additional evidence forthcoming, that end of the business would not be touched. The London club was a different matter. In order to get some sort of conviction we would need proof that Justin was supplying the drugs or that he was taking a percentage or fee from the prostitutes using his club. The worst that could happen otherwise, would be that Justin lost his licence.
When asked about the possible money laundering, he said that it was extremely unlikely that the police would have the interest or resources to pursue the case. HRMC might be interested but he doubted it. He did say that he would get in touch with old colleagues and see whether he was a person of interest to the police. If so then the police might be interested in our information.
It was disappointing to say the least. We needed something stronger to get Justin out of our hair.
Tim continued to hack away but could not get past Justin’s encryption. We found the website for the London club and even found a way into their system. The levels of encryption again frustrated us.
I was starting to get very used to dressing and presenting as female. My relationship with Sam continued to evolve. She treated me as a best female friend most of the time and would prattle and chat away to me. I noticed that when we made love now, she favoured a position where she was on top and straddled me. She still tended to keep her eyes closed when we made love. When I asked her about it she was thoughtful for a while. She eventually said that if she closed her eyes and straddled me, I felt like Tom. If she looked at me she could see a woman and it was disturbing. When we lay together, hugging, she was conscious of my nipples and small but visible breasts. It felt wrong with me inside her and feeling my erect nipples brushing against her. She said that she could not help how she felt. She still loved me just as much and she loved when we cuddled and played with each others breasts, but she loved sex with me as a man. Before we had got together as a couple back at uni, she had only had sex with one other boy and it had been a disaster. After we had got together she realized that she absolutely loved sex and would now find it difficult to do without. I told her that I had no intention of ever letting her do without.
Coincidentally, it was about this time when I noticed that I was taking longer to get an erection. I used to get an erection just thinking about Sam, now they were a little slower to come. We had taken to sex in the mornings with greater frequency, when my erections were like rock. It was a nice way to wake up. I was also finding it much easier to wear the gaff. My balls slipped inside now without discomfort and I went all day without even thinking about it.
We had started to look at dating sites to see about making suitable dates. I started correspondence with several men who we had picked out. It was an unusual feeling as Sam asked me about the various men. Did I think this one was attractive? What about the looks of that one? Could I see myself snogging another one? At one level I was able to think about them as potential dates, but when I stood back it made me feel very uncomfortable. When I raised this with Sam she told me that I had to get over it and just be brave. I asked her how she felt discussing possible dates for me. She said that the dates were not for her lovely husband, Tom, they were for her best friend Jen. When I asked her who Jen was, she said that the only way she could handle things with me, was to think of me as her best friend Jen when we were dealing with things like dates, and Tom when we were just the two of us being husband and wife.
I now had a name. From that point on, when Sam wanted to talk about girly things, she called me Jen.
At the end of the week I met with the endocrinologist. He expressed surprise and pleasure at how quickly I was responding to the hormones. He said that my rate of development was similar to that of a girl going through puberty. It was much faster than the average for someone of my age transitioning. My blood and urine samples were showing that there were no problems and it looked as though I was going to be lucky and have normal breast development. I looked as though I would avoid the cone like breasts or a situation where one was much bigger than the other. He said that my development so far, was what he would have expected after five to six months, rather than after just under three months. I was clearly at Tanner stage 2 and he thought that I would be at Tanner stage 3 within another three months.
When I told Sam about the doctor’s comments, she mirrored my concerns. In one way it was good that the transition was going so smoothly and that I could already pass as a woman. On the other hand we were getting further down the rabbit hole at a scary rate. We talked about coming off the hormones for a while, but I had already had my shots for the next month.
Chapter Fifteen
Week twelve and Tim and Jackie were carrying out interviews. Sam and I got on with our increasing work load. In the evenings we trawled the dating sites and corresponded with likely men. We even got to the stage where I was going to go out on a trial date. We picked a likely character and set up a date in an Indian restaurant that we knew.
My date turned out to be older fatter and with a lot less hair than his photo. I had been worried before hand that I would not be able to keep my end of the conversation up. Sam assured me that it would not be a problem, men liked to talk about themselves and were not interested in what a woman had to say. On the website he had claimed to be thirty and single. I could see the imprint of a wedding band on his finger where he had obviously removed it. When I asked him if he had ever been married he said no.
He was probably over forty, about two stone over weight and with bad breath. He droned on about how important his job was and how successful he had been. He hardly asked me a question and I started to understand what Sam had said. After the meal he paid the bill and said that he had booked a room in a local hotel and would I like to join him. At that point, to his discomfort, I burst out laughing and had difficulty stopping. When he realized that I was not going to the hotel with him, he enquired about a follow up date. Not a hope in hell.
Sam had a big smug told you so when I got home. We spent the rest of the evening discussing how thoughtless, selfish and boring men could be. We just cuddled in bed that night. Somehow the experience had knocked a great chunk of maleness out of me. In the morning, I was restored and our love making was passionate and thoughtful. We brought each other to glorious climaxes.
We decided to go to Manchester to look at the two buildings that Justin had there. We booked into a hotel and motored up. We looked at both properties. The club looked just like the one in London. The clientele and name were both the same. The other property was a large run down property that seemed to be let out by the room. Judging by the people coming in and out, some were most likely prostitutes, some were immigrants and some were just desperately poor people. The whole building made me think of Rachman and his London slum exploitation.
We went back to our hotel and dressed up to go to the club. We vowed to keep together and just observe. We only aimed to stay for a short time. When we got to the club the interior was very similar to the London club. The waitresses were similarly dressed and the clientele were the same bunch of hoods and hookers. We got our first drink at the bar and sat and watched what was going on. We were hit on time after time but politely declined. We ordered a second drink through the waitress. Sam slowly sipped hers but I had not enjoyed the first drink so I let mine sit. We were only sat for another ten to fifteen minutes when I realized that Sam was starting to talk gibberish. Her eyes were glazed and she was swaying. I took one more look and put her arm round my shoulder. Lifted her up and marched her out of the club. Out of the corner of my eye I could see two large gentlemen moving towards us.
I rushed Sam out and we were lucky that a cab was just outside. I pushed Sam in dived in after her and locked the door.
“Drive, now.”
The poor startled driver pulled away from the curb and started down the street. We had gone two hundred yards before he pulled in and said that he was a mini cab and he was not able to pick up customers from the street. I asked him what his phone number was and as he told me, I dialed it. His phone rang and I booked his taxi from now and from here to take me to the street where the hotel was. I didn’t want to say which our hotel was in case the hoods tracked him and asked where we were. It took all my strength to hold Sam up and get her to our room. She was in a daze. I realized that I could get her to cooperate by giving her instructions. I soon had her tucked safely in bed.
The following morning Sam woke with a splitting headache and no memory of what had happened after we went into the club. It was a narrow escape and it scared us. Even at my full strength I would not have been able to deal with one of the thugs, never mind two. After nearly three months on hormones my muscle mass had reduced considerably and I knew that I would have to rely on brains not brawn from now on.
We discussed going to the police. Sam would still have traces of the drug in her veins. We would probably not be able to ID the two thugs and we did not know for certain whether they spiked the drinks. We were stuck. We had nothing to do but head back to London with a little more knowledge, but in reality, no further on.
That weekend we wanted to go out just the two of us for a romantic evening. When I dressed as Tom, I didn’t look right. My face and figure said woman. If we went to a pub or club, we could not cuddle and kiss without comments from other customers. Sam had a brilliant solution. We went to a gay club that was mainly for lesbians. It was great. We danced, we snogged and we chatted and no one turned a hair. We were normal there. We got talking to other patrons both couples and groups, and the friendly welcome was wonderful. As we talked we found some of the sharpness of wit, very funny. The only mild draw back was one butch lesbian who was throwing her weight around and trying to muscle in. In no time she had been reduced to embarrassed silence by the ascorbic wit of our friends. When we got home Sam was much more relaxed about our love making. We mixed playing with each others breasts, kissing and cuddling with joyfully frantic fucking. Sam was giving me full eye contact and enjoying the way our nipples brushed against each other. It was as if she had suddenly given herself permission.
Week thirteen and we had a shortlist to interview. There were three women and one bloke. They were all good but one woman, Megan, stood out. She was fun and easy going with a most impressive background of knowledge and experience. The clincher was that she had worked with the local police advising them about hacking and how to prevent it. Tim bowed to her superior skills. We could use her knowledge to make our systems secure and at the same time try to get into Justin’s system.
Megan was told that I was transitioning to become a woman. She was quite happy with it and expressed surprise that I was not a genetic woman. Megan said that she would be free to start with us, part time, next week and full time two weeks later.
Sam and I were frantically busy with the growing work load, but we made time to see my parents. I did not bother with trying to look like Tom. I just dressed as I had been doing. Strangely enough, neither mum, nor dad treated me as anything other than a daughter. It was bizarre but strangely comforting.
Sam’s mum had not said anything negative, but it was very clear that she was most uncomfortable in my presence. Sam had taken to seeing her on her own, to make life easier. It was clear after the last time she called in to see her mum, that she had been getting on at her.
“Tom, assuming that we can find some way out from under Justin, are we going to be OK?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well after only three months you have changed. You have changed physically but your personality is also changing. You are much less aggressive, more thoughtful, less competitive and more caring.”
“That sounds like a few positives to me.”
“Yes they are and it’s great but….”
“But what?”
“I kind of miss the old manly Tom, who could be self centered demanding and could give a girl a right good seeing to. You are much more considerate now.”
“It worries me too Sam. I can play the female role without thinking about it now, most of the time. Nobody shouts tranny anymore. I may go back to being male full time when I can, but this experience will leave its scars. Will we be alright afterwards?”
“I love you whatever. My commitment is to us for ever. If our relationship evolves, so be it, but you are my soul mate.”
That was the most reassuring thing that I could have heard.
The nastiest thing we could have heard came next. Justin’s lawyers got in touch to remind us that we were now one quarter of the way through the wager. Terms were to be met without fail. Any evidence that we had told people of the terms of the wager would put us into forfeit. I still had nine months left to meet the full terms of the wager. Justin was employing private detectives to monitor us and ensure that terms of the wager were met in full. Lastly Justin was willing to release us from the wager if I agreed to take up employment for him in the Thai office under the previously detailed terms.
That was one hell of a wake up call. We immediately got hold of the small group of people that we had confided in and reminded them of the need for secrecy. We spoke to each of them face to face rather than use phones or email. We did not know if our phones were being hacked. The next thing we did was to get our home and studio swept for bugs. We knew that Justin had several illegal operations. He would not hesitate to bug us if he could.
Sam and I talked the situation through. Any thoughts that I had had about withdrawing from taking the hormones and letting Tom resurface had to be binned. We had to have things fully covered until we could find a way out. Three months in and we were not much nearer nailing Justin.
Later that week, we were out walking when two very large gentlemen came and boxed us in against a wall. They told us that a little bird had told their friend that we had had been prying into his business. If he found us doing that again, we would both disappear and would both be sold into the sex trade. He was enjoying seeing how the wager played out, but, if he lost patience, we would be lost.
As soon as they came they were gone. We were both rattled. How did he know about our investigations?
That weekend we went to the gay club again and had a real fun evening. Sunday was a lovely cuddly day. It was one of those winter days when the air was crisp and you could tell spring was round the corner. We took a lovely long walk either side of a pub lunch and then curled up in front of the fire and listened to music.
Chapter Sixteen
Week fourteen and Megan joined us.
“High guys, I am looking forward to working with you. Where do I sit?”
We got Megan settled in and showed her how our systems work. It turned out that Tim had whetted her appetite about the opportunities to hack and she asked if she could go over what Tim had managed to do so far. By lunch time she told us that the encryption that Justin was using was high grade and beyond her abilities to crack easily. She also warned that his protection system was good enough to recognize when hacking was attempted and it was probable that he had the ability to identify hackers.
She then explained a way that could protect us from discovery. It effectively meant having a powerful machine separate from the rest of the system and set it up so that it is constantly changing its IP address. She said that she could set up a system that week. We gave her our blessing.
Sam and I carried on mining the websites to try to find contacts that were more than just outlets for those wanting affairs. We thought we had struck lucky with one site and had corresponded with two potential targets. I made a date to meet each of them. The first was a boring, smelly sad man who had nothing going for him other than to elicit the pity of those that met him. I was so depressed after my meeting with him. The second was the complete opposite. He was tall, good looking and very smartly turned out. He was witty, attentive and interesting. He was a wonderful easy listener and an absolute joy to be with. The evening flew by and I had a lot of fun. If I had been a woman, I could have fallen for him very easily. There was something about him that oused sex appeal. Even though I was a man, I could feel it. Boy was the evening fun. He made me feel womanly and sexy, which was no mean feat, considering. I was sorry when the evening ended and thought to myself that I must make sure that Sam never meets him. It was clear from the start that he did not want any commitment. He loved women, spending time with them. He loved getting to know women and most of all he loved sex with women and fulfilling their dream fantasies. He was sex on legs. I was almost sorry that I was not a real woman. I might have been tempted.
When I told Sam about him later there was a distinct twinkle in her eye. I found her later looking his profile up on the website.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Who me, as if I would. He is a hunk though. What was his name?”
“James, now put him down and switch off.”
After my evening with James I was horny as hell. Sex that night was a bit more animal than usual. As we lay cuddling, exhausted, Sam turned to me.
“Be honest did you think of James at all when we were making love?”
I did not quite know how to answer.
“You rat, you did think of him.”
“Maybe, did you?”
“Not a fair question.”
“Neither was yours, did you?”
“Yes.”
That was a little bit of a thought provoker for both of us. I had been glad that I had selected an outfit that showed me off to my best advantage. I had taken care over my make up and I had worn sexy underwear. What was I thinking of.
When Megan came in she asked if she could try a little more hacking. She said that she had been thinking about the challenge and we may have more joy trying to hack the French subsidiary rather than the parent company. A couple of hours later and we heard the happy cry.
“I’m in.”
Another couple of hours and Megan told us that she had got into email records which were encrypted. She had assumed that the emails would be in French and English. She had not been able to crack the code until she realized that some of the emails were in Russian. All she could make out was that the emails referred to shipments, locations and dates. When we examined the locations there were two locations that re occurred. One location was off the Cornish coast and the other was in a little bay on the Cornish coast. We identified it as Talland bay. There were dates that implied that there was a delivery at least once a month to Talland. The next scheduled date was some time very early on Sunday morning.
What to do with the information, we thought we had? Were our assumptions right? If we went to the police with our information, we would have to admit to a criminal offence in that we were hacking. Our credibility as a software house would be ruined.
In the end we decided that I would obtain a pair of night vision goggles and head down to Cornwall to stake out the next delivery of whatever it was. I checked out parking in the local area and obtained a pair of night vision goggles off the net. My plan was to drive down to Cornwall and park in the village just along from Talland called Polperro. I could have a nap in the car and then at midnight, I could get to a point where I could watch the beach at Talland, without being seen.
Come Sunday afternoon, I was on my way to Cornwall. I wore dark clothes and had even got myself a black ski hood to cover my auburn hair and white face. When I got down to Polperro, I parked near the school, at the top of the hill and curled up for a nap. At midnight the alarm woke me. I was cold and shivery. There was no one around as I put on the night vision goggles and headed towards the footpath to Talland. At first I found it difficult to walk without stumbling because of the night vision glasses. When I got used to them it was so much easier. I could see everything in a kind of greeny black and white. It was like watching an old film. There was a place out of the wind where I could snuggle down and observe the beach. I could not be seen from the beach, from the little car park or the road leading down to the beach.
It was twelve thirty when I settled down. For the next two hours nothing happened other than the wildlife. Foxes, badgers, rabbits, owls and deer kept me company, as I sat waiting. In the chill of the night, I was thankful for the flask of coffee and the muesli bars. I was starting to lose the will to be there when I noticed a big black BMW gliding down into the car park above the beach. It had its lights off and I could not hear an engine.
Two large guys got out and stood on the beach chatting. At three o clock they got out a torch and shone it out to sea. I could see a pin point of light respond. A few minutes later a rib approached the beach with two men aboard. There was no sound from the engine, so they must have had an electric outboard. The two on the beach caught a rope thrown from the rib and hauled the rib up onto the beach. Within three or four minutes bags had been transferred from the rib to the boot of the car. The rib was launched and the men got back in the car. No lights were showing when they drove very quietly away.
The deed had been done. We now knew for sure that the email correspondence referred to smuggling of some sort. Maybe we now had something on Justin.
Chapter Seventeen
Week fifteen. After I had motored home and caught up with my sleep, Sam and I got in touch with her dad’s retired police friend. We explained what I had seen and how we got the information. We knew that we were breaking the law with the hacking and could not go to the police and tell them what we knew. What we could give him though, was the date of the next delivery and a description of the methodology.
Our friend sat thoughtful for a while and suggested that he go to see some of his old colleagues with a tip off. He would explain that the information had not been obtained legally but it had been checked out and a delivery had been observed. He would let us know what happened as a result of our tip off.
I had my visit to the doc again and more shots. My tests showed that my progress down the path to womanhood was going very much faster than anyone predicted. The doc said that there were early signs of shrinkage in my testicles and that my sperm count was already low. He thought that at the present rate, I would be effectively chemically castrated within another couple of months. Thank god for the sperm bank. I was already at the stage where my capacity to produce testosterone was severely reduced. The doc asked me whether I would like to speed things up with the removal of my testicles. I told him that it was a kind offer but that I was happy with progress so far. He said that my breast development was already very definitely Tanner stage 2 and moving on from there He had never seen such rapid development before.
When Sam and I talked through the results again, we discussed the idea of coming off the hormones for a while at the end of this month. With the shots that I had been given, I would be nineteen weeks down the track before I eased off and tried to recover a bit of Tom. We were committed for now, but there was that possible holding point down the line.
My breasts now were noticeable without any padding and I was wearing normal A cup bras. I was conscious of movement in my breasts and felt more comfortable wearing a bra. The weight of my bust was noticeable now. Small, but noticeable. The aching in my nipples had gone but the sensitivity remained. Sam caught me several times absent mindedly rubbing my nipples as I was working or reading. She had started calling me the nipple fondler. It was difficult, but I broke myself of the habit. I still enjoyed playing with my nipples in the shower and was able to orgasm just playing with them. I loved it when Sam and I fondled and played with each others breasts. I was almost jealous of her lovely shaped C cups.
I was now starting to find a bra comfortable. I had even started selecting my own matching underwear. If I had to wear it, I might as well enjoy it.
It was my twenty seventh birthday the following week so we invited all our close circle and their partners, where they had them. We even invited two of the women from the gay club.
We were flat out with systems design. We had our core team of five and six more people who worked with us on a freelance basis. In just six months we had more than doubled the size of our business. We were in a position to pay off our bank loan at a much faster rate than we had expected. Each of our team was on a basic of £50k and we were paying monthly bonuses. From the business point of view, things could not be going better.
Our ex police friend contacted us at the end of the week and said that he had convinced the Devon and Cornwall police to act on his tip off for the following Sunday.
It was a good week and enquiries kept rolling in. we were flat out.
Week sixteen and we waited for the outcome of the police raid. During the week Sam and I went to the hair dressers and she got her honey blond hair styled and more highlights added. I had the same with my auburn hair. We both shopped for a party dress and ended up with matching spaghetti strapped dresses that showed ample cleavage in her case and what little I had in mine, also plenty of leg. For the first time I was consciously looking for something that would make me look good and sexy as a woman. It was a strange mix of feelings and it was my first little black dress. We also indulged in the purchase of some very sexy lingerie. Now that I had something of a bust, a flattering, whisp of a bra, seemed a good idea. Now that my meat and two veg slotted comfortably away in the gaff, the flimsy knickers made more sense to me.
It was starting to hit home now. I had enjoyed shopping for clothes. I was proud that I was now looking at size twelve now most of the time. My first clothes had been fourteens or sixteens. I did not feel self conscious shopping for girl’s clothes. I did not feel odd wearing them. I was automatically selecting things to wear that came together as an outfit. I felt comfortable in skirts but possibly less so in dresses. I was wearing jewelry. I took a perverse pride in the fact that I could fill an A cup without fillers. I was actually proud of my budding breasts. My muscle definition had reduced massively and my shape had altered. Nobody was clocking me as male. I had crossed a line somewhere without realizing it. I didn’t feel blokey anymore. I didn’t know what I felt.
I was my own worst enemy. All my life I had thrown myself into every project, determined to get the best result possible. I realized that I had done the same with the feminization. I was just unable to do things half heartedly, even when I realized how dangerous and destructive what we were doing could be.
Come the weekend, everything was ready for the party. We had thirty two people attending. One third were men, not including me and the remainder were women. We had one and a half female couples if you included me. The party was great fun with good food, lovely wines and stronger drinks, good music, dancing and much chat and laughter. I found no problem being the hostess. I was finding the female role easier as time went on. The fact that I had no choice, was leading me to accept the inevitable.
Sam spent quite a time talking to Rose. When we were alone in the early hours, after everyone had gone, we cleared up the worst of the mess. We then cuddled in bed and talked through the fun we had had. With the excitement of the night, I was still wide awake.
“You spent a long time talking to Rose.”
“Yes, there were a lot of questions that I wanted to ask her.”
“Such as?”
“I wanted to know more about her transition. I wanted to know if she had been either gay or bi sexual before she was married. She told me that she had never been gay or bi sexual. She had originally been attracted to women and loved their company. As a young man, she had been very uncomfortable in being macho. She had tried cross dressing as a child, and had found being dressed as a girl very calming. It had felt right. After she was married she knew that she loved her wife and enjoyed sex with her. She also knew at some fundamental level that she had to be a woman. I asked how long after she started transitioning did she continue to have sex with her wife. She told me that her wife became gradually less keen and she gradually became less able. By the time she was dressing and living full time as a woman her wife had already talked about divorce. They stopped having penetrative sex five months after she had started on hormones. Her wife had been more and more reluctant as time had passed and she had found it hard to get an erection.
I asked her when she had first been attracted to men. She said that after her wife left she had felt confused and lost. After she had been on hormones for seven months and living as a woman for about five months, she realized that she had been idly assessing men. She was more inclined to look at men than women. After another month she had her first date with a man. She could pass quite successfully and was quite presentable. They had ended up going dancing and at the end of the date he had kissed her. She had been shocked at first but found it to be an exciting awakening experience. From that time on she thought more about men and less about women. It was if someone had switched a light on in her brain. She had decided quite soon afterwards that she wanted full gender reassignment so that she could have proper sex. Just over a year later she had her first vaginal intercourse with a man. It was wonderful and an experience to be repeated regularly.
What is going to happen to you Tom? Are you going to be awoken?”
That night we quietly cuddled and held each other tight, scared that we might lose each other. In the morning we felt much better and made love with a passion.
Chapter Eighteen
Week sixteen and we heard from our retired police friend. He was pleased as punch. The local police had caught the two hoods on the beach and a police launch had picked up the two in the dinghy. The bigger boat that the rib had come from got away. The police were kicking themselves that they had not set up a bigger operation. They had not involved the navy who could have tracked the boat. They were, however, very happy with what they had picked up. The two from the car were well known to the Met Police and had a string of convictions. The two from the boat were Russians and all four were very tight lipped.
The police had captured drugs with a street value of well over half a million pounds. They had asked our ex police friend to see if his contact had any more information about the gang’s actions. Megan got straight onto to the French site and, to our dismay, the whole thing had been wiped. There was no trace of any information left. The house had been cleaned. The police were pleased to make a bust, but disappointed that they would not be able to get to those behind the drugs.
Strike one and we had hurt Justin but we had come no where near putting him out of business.
On Monday evening I decided to take an inventory of myself. I stood naked in front of a long mirror and studied what I saw. From the neck up I looked like an acceptably good looking young woman. I had a high forehead for a woman but not unusually so. It made me look intelligent. My eyes, lips, nose and cheekbones all looked good. There was no sign of a beard or sideburns, my face was smooth and a little chubby. My hair was auburn, healthy and now came down to my shoulders.
My neck and shoulders were much slimmer than they had been, but they still looked chunky. My boobs were small but visible, they looked as though they were going to be a nice shape, but looked small on my frame. My waist was noticeable but still looked too wide. My hips and bum had spread a little and the muscle tone in my bum and hips had largely gone. I had a bit of a wobble.
My todger and balls looked out of place on the rest of me but they seemed to have reduced in size. My todger was only marginally smaller but the shrinkage was much more noticeable with my balls. My hands were slim, slightly on the large size for a woman, but they looked elegant. The muscle tone in my legs had softened and my legs now looked long and sexy. My feet were a little larger than you would expect for a woman, but if I had not been looking for it, I would not have noticed.
Was I looking at a man or a woman? If you ignored the cock and balls you could see a chunky looking woman with a pretty face, good legs and a flat chest. I looked a lot like a much younger version of my mother except that she was very well endowed in the bust region. Mum had good legs and a pretty face. As soon as she let her weight rise, she started to look a bit chunky. Her bust though was a large DD size on her five foot five frame.
If I was going to look like an attractive woman, I was going to have to lose more weight and maybe go back to the corsets for a while. I even wondered about the rib operation. We could certainly afford it now. I had got my weight down well below eleven stone now but it needed to come down further. I was going to have to do more yoga and aerobics to keep myself looking trim. After talking it through with Sam we agreed that the rib trim idea was too dangerous and decided on more corset wear. More discomfort in the cause of beauty. If my bust grew, I lost weight and put a little more rounding on my hips, I would look much better balanced. In under four months I had changed from being a solid, tough hunk of a scrum half to being a slightly chunky, but feminine looking “female”. Was this an achievement or was it just the beginning of the end of my happy old life? Somehow, it was difficult to feel pleased with the changes. The more I thought about it, the more depressed I became.
It had been a disappointment when the drug raid had been a dead end. We set Megan to look at anything that she could dig up in any of Justin’s other companies. With the volume of work that we had it was difficult to release time for her to hack.
We had heard rumours that Justin’s wager winning system was having a lot of installation problems. Justin’s team had been spending most of their time trying to sort out bugs and refine the system. We wished him all the ill luck in the world and hoped his problems would mount.
At work Sam still called me Tom, but when we were relaxing and chatting, she called me Jen. Sam loved to go on retail therapy trips with me. We were doing so well that we could afford to splurge a bit. When we were out Sam just chatted away to me as if I was her best female friend. It was very easy for me to slip into that role without thinking. In some ways Sam and I were closer than ever. My opinion was sought on styles, colours, make up and outfits. Advice was also freely given. The one thing that disturbed me though was that Sam had called me Jen more frequently when we were making love. I found that despite being male underneath, I was starting to match her mood cycles. I had become much more prone to tears. We even had a good weep when we went to see a romantic film at the cinema. Unusually, I enjoyed it.
I was wearing mascara and a bit of lippy more often than not and some female behaviours were becoming natural. I did not have to concentrate to pass.
On Friday we dressed up and had a meal out with friends and on Saturday we went dancing at the Gay club. The dancing became competitive and then raunchy. We were egged on by our gay friends and had a thoroughly naughty night. When we got home Sam suggested that we had purely lesbian sex. When I said that I was not sure how, she produced a lesbian porn film that one of the girls at the club had lent her. The film was extremely educational and both during and after the film, we tried most of what we had watched. It was a new and very rewarding experience for both of us. I never realized one could have that much pleasure without actual penetrative intercourse.
Week seventeen and Megan decided to have a crack at getting into Justin’s main system. Most of the site was impenetrable but Megan found a record of Justin’s contracts for systems work. There were several with his subsidiary companies in America and France. There were also contracts with a number of other organizations in the Lebanon, Russia, Germany, Bolivia, Panama and Belgium. Tim contacted a friend who had done a considerable amount of freelance work for Justin’s company and asked if he had done any work for those clients. Tim’s friend said that he was not aware of any systems being designed or supported for any of the client groups mentioned.
He said that only a few of Justin’s staff were involved in systems work. The remainder, were scary dudes and he did not know what they did. Justin’s total design team consisted of three people plus his freelance workers. We decided to see if we could follow up some of the supposed contacts. We had the names of the organizations and a contact person in each case. If we could get evidence that Justin had been selling bogus systems to organizations in return for illegally raised money, we would be able to, not only prove money laundering, but also that he was earning money from illegal activities.
We thought that we would start with the Belgian contacts. I think we were under the impression that Belgium was less scary than Russia or Lebanon. Our efforts resulted in us identifying a billing address for the Belgian organization. The address was real and it was another club. There seemed to be a pattern forming in Justin’s money making interests.
We trawled the Belgian press looking for any reference to the person named as the customer contact, but could find no person of that name. Sam suggested that she should go and look at the club and see what sort of organization it was. I vetoed the suggestion. There was no way that I would let Sam put herself in harms way. Any risk taking was my job. Sam was unkind enough to point out that since I had started on the hormones, I had lost a large amount of muscle mass and tone. I may be much more supple and possibly quicker over a short distance but now, I was not a lot stronger than she was.
She also raised the problem of my passport. I no longer looked like my picture. If I dressed up as a man then I looked quite feminine. If I dressed as a woman, then I had a man’s passport. Whichever way could lead me into problems at passport control. What we decided, was that I would travel as a man, but get a letter from my therapist to state that I was a male transitioning to female. When I got to Belgium, I could book into a hotel, change into female dress and go and see what I could find out about the club. I would then return the following morning.
The rest of the week sped by with a visit to the therapist, a meal out with friends and a heavy load of work.
When Saturday came I donned male clothing for the first time in weeks. I bound my small breasts and was able to go without a gaff. It was wonderful to be swinging free again. My clothes felt loose on me, everywhere except the hips and bum. It felt very strange wearing shoes and socks, they were lumpy and heavy. In the end I gave up with my old chinos and wore a pair of my lady cut jeans. I looked a bit strange with a mans shirt, jacket, coat and shoes with a pair of women’s jeans. I wore my hair in a low pony tail and, of course no make up or nail polish. I had not realized how natural I had become, wearing women’s clothes, make up and nail polish. I did not think of myself as a woman in any way, but I was totally comfortable in women’s clothes and make up. My day to day conversations, my mannerisms and my interests had become quite female. I was comfortable in the knowledge that I was male. I was also totally at ease living as a female. It was a bizarre split personality.
It was not until I tried to be convincingly male on the journey that it came home to me how far I had travelled in becoming a woman. On the one hand it was deeply scary, but on the other it was what we were planning to succeeding at.
I was surprised on my way out that when I presented my passport it was handed back to me without comment. There was no problem. The journey was uneventful and I found the hotel with ease. Once in my room the transformation took place. I put on a waist cinch and was able to unbind my small breasts. I used a push up bra and fillets to enhance my bust and dressed as a young raver in short skirt, tights, a top that showed all the cleavage I could muster. I wore a pair of knee high soft leather boots with one and a half inch heels. I wanted to be able to stay on my feet for a long time. The year was now moving into spring and it was not too cold so I just wore a wrap and no coat.
I found the club right in the heart of the red light district. Sitting in a coffee shop opposite for an hour, I could watch the comings and goings. The crowd were young and looked anything from latish teens to latish twenties. They were a bunch of bright young things doing the Saturday night thing. There was also an older crowd, mostly male, who did not look as though they were there to dance. Whilst I sat there I was approached by several men varying from a few years younger than me, right up to my father’s age. I had taken care not to dress in a way that could make me be mistaken for a working girl. As a result the pick up lines, in a variety of languages, were pleasant and no problem. A smile, a confession of speaking only English and that I was meeting my boyfriend prevented any difficulties.
I plucked up courage and crossed the road to the club. There was no problem getting in and once inside a wall of sound hit me. Having parked my wrap, I got myself a bottle of Italian beer. I was not going to drink anything that I had not seen being opened and it would never leave my sight. In no time I had been invited to dance and was jigging wildly to the pounding beat. You could feel the music as much as hear it. I could smell the pot and, in no time I was offered a selection of pills. When I turned those down I was asked if I wanted anything stronger. I had covered most of the club within the first forty minutes or so. Other than the drugs, the place seemed to be a normal club. There was one door though, that was guarded by two large scary doormen. They were only letting people through who had a pass card. The only people without passes that were allowed in were the women on the arms of the members. I asked one of my dance partners what went on behind the door and he said that it was a high roller gambling den.
So far, so good, I had observed what the main body of the place was like. I had been groped and had erections rubbed against me. My bum had been distinctly man handled but nothing that I could not cope with.
I wanted to get into the gambling den to spy out the land. The only plan that I could think of was to stay close to where the members were coming and going and get picked up. Not much of a plan, I know. Almost as soon as I headed towards the door, a distinguished looking man, in his late thirties, or early forties came through the door back into the club. He was in deep thought and walked straight into me. In a flurry of French he apologized most graciously. He suggested that the least he could do, was to share some champagne with me.
I realized, after the first couple of exchanges, that we had been talking French. My French is adequate but hardly fluent. My companion quickly realized my difficulty and smoothly moved to an impeccable, but slightly accented English. He introduced himself as Julian and ushered me to an area of the club that was relatively quiet. The background noise still made it difficult for conversation, so my companion suggested that we transfer to the comfort of the gambling club.
Julian flashed his pass and we went into the refined quiet of the gambling club. The difference was huge. The average age of the men, was much more than double that in the club and the elegance of the women made my outfit feel cheap and drab. We found a place to sit, away from the tables where serious gentlemen were playing cards with a deep intensity.
“Now my dear Jen, we can talk without the need to shout. What is a pretty young woman doing on her own in this den of iniquity, in danger of being knocked to the floor by a thoughtless ruffian like myself.”
“A good question Julian. This is my first trip to Belgium. I came with a good female friend for a short weekend break. I wanted to see the sights and visit the galleries. It would seem that she came to party. It was her idea to come to the club, if I had been expecting to be clubbing, I would have brought more appropriate clothing.”
“You look charming my dear. Where is your friend?”
“She found herself a hunky male companion and decided the rest of the evening was going to be in his arms. Her last comment was that I shouldn’t wait up for her and that she would see me at a late breakfast. I was just about to get my wrap and leave. This place is a bit more wild than I am used to.”
“It is a good job that I brutally tried to knock you down. I can show you a little of the quieter night life here. Have you eaten?”
“Only a snack.”
“Then I shall take you where we can have a quiet meal and enjoy some good music. The restaurant is only a couple of hundred yards away. If you are happy we could walk. To buy you a meal would be the least I could do to make up for my brutality.”
“I appreciate your offer but I am a single girl on my own in a strange city and maybe I should head back to the hotel.”
“I give you my word as a Lawyer and an upright French gentleman, that we can dine, talk and maybe a little dancing and then I will deliver you safely to the door of your hotel. My dear Jen, I too am adrift in a foreign town and would welcome the company.”
I agreed to go with him to eat. I was hoping to find out more about the gambling club. It was strangely easy to be the feminine to his masculine. I knew I was a man in a masquerade but, I suppose, so many weeks of living as a women and it was becoming second nature to me. He was probably twenty years older than me and stood at a little over six foot tall. His suit was cut to perfection and what he was clothed in would have paid for a complete new system of top spec computers in our studio. He was clean cut, clean shaven, with a twinkle it his blue eyes and a warm smile. Since when did I start noticing the colour of a man’s eyes?
He was definitely not the sort of heavy weight hood that I had started to associate with Justin. He directed us to a very elegant restaurant where a four piece group were playing gentle jazz. The menu was mouth wateringly tempting and there were no prices to be seen. We shared a bottle of excellent Chablis as we ate our fish, then sat back with a smooth fruity Armagnac with our coffee.
Julian admitted that he was a married man with a wife that he loved and three children, the eldest of which was at university. He had been in Belgium for a meeting with a group of EU lawyers, discussing the future application of a range of regulations. The meeting had dragged on and on and he had decided to stop over rather than try to drive the 300 miles home.
When I asked him about how he had decided to go to the gambling club, he told me that one of the German lawyers had suggested it. The German was a member and after a couple of calls, a membership pass had been arranged. Gambling dens were not his normal haunt, but he was a good card player, good with numbers and his fee for the weekend meeting had been obscene. He was intrigued to go and see what it was like. The thing that intrigued him most was that the German lawyer had a bit of a reputation and he was interested to see what sort of places he frequented.
When he went into the club he had watched for a while. He summed up the clientele as being largely made up of the type of people that his colleagues defended in court. Some of the people made him feel uncomfortable. He played poker at one of the tables and, at first he was making gains. He had not joined a very high stakes table, but the money was enough to make him cautious. There were suggestions that the stakes be raised and slowly he had started to lose. He had reached the stage where he was down by a small amount when he decided to take a break and review his position. That was when he literally walked into me. I had probably saved him from stupidly losing more than was sensible. I had therefore earned my meal many times over.
It was a shame that after getting to talk to someone who was a member albeit a temporary one, I should learn so little. Julian’s conversation was witty and fun. He had me laughing at stories about legal cases. He quizzed me about my background and I was able to talk freely about everything with the exception of saying that Sam was my oldest and closest friend rather than my wife. Julian said that he would have his firm contact us to see about systems design.
It was easy talking to Julian, relaxed and fun. When Julian suggested that we took advantage of the good music and dance, I was half on my feet before I had thought about it. Once up, it would have been wrong to back out. I had to think hard about where my hands went. Julian was an excellent dancer. I was clumsy and stumbling at first. I excused myself as being an inexperienced dancer. I explained my tendency to try and lead to having been one of the taller girls at an all girls school and having to play the male part. In the end I just relaxed and followed Julian’s lead. Once I relaxed it was such fun. The alchohol had loosened my stiffness and I was in danger of becoming graceful. We smiled, laughed and talked as we whirled round the floor. At the end of one dance we were smiling and looking in each others eyes when he leaned in and kissed me. I could feel the slight stubble on his skin and smell his musky au de cologne. His lips were dry and warm on mine and I liked it. My first reaction was to close my eyes , with my head tilted back, my arms around his shoulders and to respond to the kiss. When my brain resurfaced I knew that this was so wrong. To be held in a strong man’s arms a gently but firmly kissed was intriguingly good, but oh so wrong. I was so tempted to explore with my tongue. But as we broke I blushed and looked away. Shit, I am not gay.
“I should apologise, my dear Jen for taking advantage of a young lady, but I am afraid that I enjoyed that too much to do so. I promise to be on my best behaviour from now on.”
The evening drew to a close and Julian escorted me back to the hotel. All the way back in the cab, I was thinking about what I would do if he wanted to kiss me again. I was actually hoping that he would. I am not gay. I like women. I am not gay.
I wondered what I could do to encourage him. We had held hands all the way back from the restaurant and as the taxi pulled up I gave his hand a squeeze. He got out and opened the door for me. As I got out, he gathered me in his arms and I did not resist. We kissed and I was happy and relieved that he had done so. My tongue could not help itself and we explored each other, the kiss lasted no time but for ages. As we said our goodbyes I felt exhilarated and excited. That was a kind of feeling that I had not had since I was a teenager. It was naughty exploration of territory that I should not be setting foot in. All the time I was feeling guilty and wretched about cheating on Sam. It was wrong at so many levels and I am not gay.
That night I cried tears of frustration at my own inability to control what was happening to me. I am not gay.
What had I achieved by my visit? Absolutely nothing and I had got myself into a situation that had left me confused and disappointed in myself. I knew that I was going to have to woo a man in order to win the wager, but I didn’t want to enjoy it. On the one hand I had made a convincing job as a young woman. On the other hand I had been far too comfortable. I had forgotten who I was, but I am not gay.
In the morning I was stupid enough to wear my female clothes without thinking. I suppose I had found them comfortable now that I had a small but distinct bust.
When I got to the border agency check, the officer looked at me, looked at my passport and immediately got on the phone. I was immediately directed out of the queue and to a shed at the side. After I was escorted from the car, I was interrogated. Who was I? Why was I, a female travelling on a man’s passport? My luggage had been brought from the car and the mixture of male and female clothes discovered. I tried to explain that I was a pre-op transsexual and that my passport had yet to be altered. I showed the officers the letter from the psychiatrist. The letter was met with as much suspicion as I was. I was then told to strip for a search. I was asked whether I wanted to be strip searched by a man or a woman. In my confusion I could not say, so I had a mixed audience of four officers while I stripped naked, the crude jokes that the officers cracked and the derision with which they looked at my naked body was mentally and emotionally crippling. With a look of absolute glee they informed me that I had to have a cavity inspection in case of drugs. It was the most humiliating experience of my short life. They were not gentle.
When they had had their fun and checked with my psychiatrist, I was allowed to go. All my self confidence had been drained out of me.
When I got home I told Sam the unvarnished truth about what had happened and my concerns. Sam cuddled me and soothed me while I cried and tried to make sense of where we were. For the first time since I was a small child, I just wanted to be held and for someone to make the difficult stuff go away. I was depressed and had totally lost my belief in myself.
For the whole of the following week I was in a dark fug. I felt that Justin had won. I was no longer Tom and I was only a freak who would be rejected by everyone. I found it difficult to get out of bed and kept bursting into tears. Sam kept things going and nursed me through the week. By the end of the week I was able to go for long periods without crying. By Sunday I was starting to get angry and my determination started to return. Sam’s relief was palpable. She really thought she might have lost me.
Chapter Nineteen
Week nineteen and I was starting to recover my old self. All the time that I had been down Sam had called me Tom. Not once had she called me Jen. As week nineteen progressed she started to call me Jen again in the evenings. By the weekend of that week I had felt up to going out again and Sam and I went dancing at the gay club. The dancing brought back difficult feelings but it was nice and fun and when we got home we spent a lovely night of lesbian and heterosexual love making.
I was starting to find that erections were not as fast to come and quicker to go but it was close and loving and Sam and I felt at peace afterwards.
Week twenty and I was raring to get back into the fray. While I had been feeling depressed I had lost more weight and was now down below ten and a half stone. Sam’s birthday was coming up and I asked her what she would like. She asked whether she could have anything she liked, when I responded in the affirmative, then she said she would let me know.
We had one bit of good news and another bit of news that I wasn’t so sure of. The good news was that the NHS Trust where Justin had beaten us in getting the contract, contacted us. They were distinctly unhappy with the system that Justin’s company had installed. They wanted us to look at the system to see if we could make it work. We were up to our ears in work, so we arranged to have a preliminary look later that week.
With the pressure of work, we decided to invite another of our freelancers to work full time. Danny was a hunk of a man. Good looking and a muscular six foot plus tall, he was the most laid back person we knew. He was a brilliant analyst/programmer but just loved the good things in life. Every now and then he would disappear and go walkabout. He was great fun to be around, witty, thoughtful and a total gentle man. Women loved him and he loved women. He was a lovely clever man. We knew that he was unlikely to be a long term prospect but his skill was of the highest.
The less good news was when I visited for another check up. The doctor was amazed at the speed with which I was developing secondary female characteristics. He had never known anyone develop a full A cup in under six months. I was definitely at Tanner stage 3. He was also surprised at how my weight had redistributed. My hips and bum now had a distinctly feminine look. He gave me the bad news that I was now effectively sterile. He went on to say that my testicles had significantly atrophied in a very short space of time. They rarely dropped back from inside my body cavity when I took my gaff off. He again suggested that I have the testicles removed. They may be useless, but removing them was too big a step emotionally.
Sam reminded me that in our original plan, we had assumed that I would be needing to get implants about now. With my surprisingly quick bust development, it looked as though I would be able to make do with what I had.
Not only had my bust developed faster than we had expected but my nipples had grown to be as large as Sam’s and just as sensitive. My chest had nothing of the male left. Stripped to the waist my bust was completely female. My shoulders were still a bit muscular for a woman and broader than you would expect and my neck was still a bit thick. My face looked female, albeit, more handsome than pretty. My waist was still a bit too large. My bum had lost some of its firmness and I had expanded a bit across the hips, so I looked as though I had a waist, but I was definitely going to have to lose more weight. Ten stone was going to have to be my target. More starving required.
Spring was starting to develop into the first sunny warm days of the year and Sam declared that it was shopping time. We needed to get summer clothes. We were going for a monster shopping bash. I was told that I needed summer dresses, skirts, tops, lingerie, make up, bikini, jewelry and shoes. She told me that she had decided what she wanted for her birthday. She wanted the two of us to get a tattoo of a butterfly on the cheeks of our right bum. They did not have to be the same butterfly but they had to be the same size. The second part of the present was that she wanted a proper girl’s night out. She wanted five of us, including her friend Donna, Megan Jackie and myself to have a full blooded girls night out, with all that that entailed. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I agreed.
Shopping was fun. I enjoyed the two of us chatting about clothes and trying stuff on. Sam was a ten and I was now able to fit comfortably in a twelve. When we had started, I was hardly able to get into a fourteen and mainly fitted a sixteen. I thought that we had exhausted our shopping needs when Sam declared that it was time for our girl’s night outfits. I was taken to a different type of shop. After a considerable amount of searching, Sam spotted a soft, stretchy, very fine woolen dress. It came to mid thigh and was up to the neck at the front with a scoop back that went all the way to my bum cleavage. It was in a soft sedgey green that went with my auburn hair colour and drew attention to my green eyes. When I tried it on Sam told me to leave my bra off. Now Sam is much better endowed than me, with her gorgeous C cup breasts, but my nipples had outgrown hers. I may have had very modest breasts but I had large sensitive nipples. When I tried the dress on, it clung to me like a second skin. It hugged my hips and thighs and the touch of the fabric on my very sensitive nipples made them stand out. I may have been relatively flat chested, but with the nipple display, I was going to get a lot of male attention. I was reluctant at first, but it felt so good.
Sam said that such a dress should be worn without bra or knickers. Because of my small additional factor, I would have to wear my gaff. The good thing was that the outline would look like a thong. Sam tried to get me to buy some four inch heeled, sandals to go with the dress but I drew the line at two and a half inches. The outfit was completed with a broad belt that would accentuate my waist.
Sam selected a very sheer ivory silk blouse with long loose sleeves with tight cuffs. She then selected a shiny deep red miniskirt with a silver belt, that came no further down the thigh than the one she had bought for me. Next was a pair of what Sam called fuck me heeled shoes, at least four inches possibly five. They made her bum and legs look superb. Sam then headed to Victoria Secrets and picked a bra that was flimsy in the extreme.
“Sam, you can’t wear that. You would look as though you were naked from the waist up.”
“Don’t you think I would look sexy?”
“Yes, too sexy.”
“You are missing the point. You can’t look too sexy on a girl’s night out.”
With that she bought the wisp of a thong that went with the bra. Next we bought very sheer, shiny hold up stockings. There was no way we could have suspenders under what we would be wearing.
Next we were off to the tattooist. My choice was a small tortoise shell butterfly, my favourite, just over an inch across. Sam chose a Mazarine blue to go with her eyes. Sam decided that we should have them positioned so that they would just peek out if we were wearing very brief bikini bottoms. I was surprised how painful it was, but Sam just called me a wimp. When we got back to work Sam insisted that we show everyone our tattoos.
Chapter Twenty
Week twenty one and I was still trying to get clear from Sam what a real girl’s night out was. She told me that the whole idea was to get dressed up in the sexiest outfits possible, then have enough drink to lose some inhibitions. You then went dancing and the idea was to do as many naughty things as you wanted to without grabbing a man and getting laid. That is unless you met the right hunk and wanted to get laid. I was definitely not sure whether I should be part of it.
“Tom, two things, firstly you have less than seven months left to find a man, convince him that you are wonderful and get him to fall in love with you to the extent that he not only proposes but that the wedding is arranged. The guy has to be well off and straight. In order to achieve that, you are going to have to give yourself up to being a woman for at least the next several months. If you don’t believe it, no one else will.
Remember the options are either to achieve that, or to get enough dirt on Justin to get him put away. In five months we have come up with suspicions but not one single bit of evidence. The chances are looking a long shot. The alternative is that we lose the wager. You will end up, in Thailand, out of your mind on drugs, selling yourself to anyone who will buy, until such time as Justin gets bored with the joke and you disappear. In the meantime I will have become the shit’s plaything here.
You, have no option. You have to go for it and get over your inhibitions. I hate it, but I need you to live and stay with me, whatever. You are my partner and my soul mate and I will stick with you forever, regardless of how this changes. I am doing whatever I can to help you be the killer babe that you need to be”
I was brought up short by Sam’s very blunt assessment of the situation. I had not really realized how much Sam was pushing me on, helping me.
“Hang on, you said there were two reasons why you wanted a girls night out. What was the other one?”
“For the last twenty one weeks, I have been holding back, putting my needs into the background so that I can help you become a convincing woman. I am now frustrated as hell, in danger of becoming explosively horny and I need to let my hair down.”
I had been told in no uncertain terms.
The lovely Danny was set the task of investigating the problems that the NHS trust had with Justin’s system. He was gone all week. When he returned he had a puzzled look.
“Ok guys, I am really unsure about what is going down. I saw the spec as you did when you bid for the work. I have been through what Justin has installed and it does not make sense. There are some bits that are fit for purpose and meet the spec. There are some bits that are nowhere near the spec but work. There are bits that are near the spec and are such rubbish that they do not work. It is a mess. If they want a price to patch up the system you are going to need to be very careful. I have written down my estimates of what needs to be done and a rough calculation of the design and programming hours required. I have not been able to calculate the installation costs. It is a mess. They can not have had proper diligence over the contract, the quality of the product and the control over installation. I think something stinks.”
Danny left us with his comprehensive report and went home for the weekend. Justin had clearly managed to win the wager with an inferior product that was not fit for purpose. The only problem was that the wager was over who won the contract, not who could produce a workable system. We decided that we would follow up this information and see if we could find a way out.
Preparations started for the big girl’s night out. We went to get our hair and nails done. My toes and nails were done in a green that was slightly darker than my party dress. Sam’s were a deep red to match her skirt. We were pampered and preened and then returned home for a lovely smelly relaxed bath. When I just relaxed and let it happen, it was a lovely experience. Funny how your view of life can change.
Sam helped me with my make up and I was entranced with the girl with the smokey green eyes that looked back at me from the mirror. Sam was the perfect contrast with her deep blue eyes and honey blond hair. By the time I had my tight fitting fine woolen dress, my gaff, the belt, shiny sheer stockings and sandals that were higher at over two and a half inches than I had ever worn. My dangly ear rings flashed and sparkled and looked great against my auburn hair. I was sex on legs.
I was pleased with how I looked until I saw Sam fully dressed. Her top was loose but almost completely see through. Her bra was a wisp of lace and did nothing to hide the curve and shape of her breasts and nipples. Her skirt showed off her bum to perfection and the five inch heeled shoes made her legs and bum taught and sexy. She was hot. One look and my todger was straining at the gaff. My nipples also started to make their presence obvious. Sam saw the look in my eye.
“Down boy, it has taken me an age to look like this and you are not spoiling it.”
We poured ourselves a glass of wine and waited for the girls to arrive. The first was Donna. She was about the same height as me but willowy slim. She was wearing a pair of red hipster pants in a fine strechy material that must have been painted on. Her thong peeked above the back of her pants. Her top only just covered her C cup boobs and hung like a pelmet leaving her flat stomach exposed and drawing attention to her pierced naval. Her hair was up and she was wearing a pair of shoes with heel heights the same as Sam. I had to look up to her. Air kisses and hugs and I gave Donna a glass of wine. Angie was second to arrive. Angie is the shortest of the group at about five foot two. She was looking a cross between cute and really hot. Angie was blessed with the most ample boobs of the group. She was wearing a flimsy summer dress with thin shoulder straps and a low neckline. Under it she had on a lacy bra that presented her lovely ample bosom to the world. It was difficult to take your eyes off her boobs but if you did, you were rewarded with the sight of her thong and hold up stockings through the dress. Angie’s shoes were almost as extreme as the other two’s.
Megan was the last to arrive. She was wearing a dress that was little more than a basque. Her waist was hugged by the basque and her beautiful tits presented above it. Her boobs were thrust up and you could just get a peek of the nipple if she moved quickly. She wore a short skater skirt under it and a pair of sheer tights. It turned out that I was the only one not brave enough for the killer heels. Megan was about two inches shorter than me normally. With her heels on she was, maybe, a fraction taller.
We killed a couple of bottles of wine while the girls related stories of other girl’s nights out. Megan, Donna and Jackie each related situations where a girl’s night out had ended up in bed with some hunk, or in one case the back of a car and in another case a local park. I had no idea that they were capable of such wanton behaviour. There were tales of men being led on and then left with their trousers down. The tales became more and more hilarious and lewd. I noticed that Sam had not retold any times that she had got laid on a girls night out but did relate to a couple of occasions before we were married where she had come close and one occasion when she had given a man a hand job while dancing in public. Another time she had come on the dance floor when a man was fingering her. I was shocked that the girls could have been so wanton.
Next it was into a taxi and off to the club. We went straight to the bar and had our first round of shots. Whilst we ordered the second the first challenge was set. The last person to get approached and chatted up bought the next shots.
The rules were that there were no holds barred but everyone had to tell the truth. Straight away the girls started acting more outrageously. Dressed as they were we soon had men buzzing round us. There were flirty smiles, laughter and chat. I was watching mesmerized when I felt a presence next to me. He was ok but nothing that would set the heart racing. Soon we were chatting. I was self conscious and slow. Soon after the men were dismissed and I was told that I was the slowest and that I had to pay for the shots.
The next challenge was who would be the last escorted to the dance floor. No sooner had the challenge been set than the girls were eying up the men giving the come on signals. Again I was left standing in seconds. A short hesitation and a rather good looking young man who was probably a few years younger than me chatted me up and we danced. Three dances later and we were back at the bar. The shots were on me again and they were double shots.
The next challenge was to have a dance where our bums were groped. I was starting to get a buzz and was getting fed up with buying all the shots. I gave a come on smile to a good looking young man who was tall and athletic. I soon moved in to him so that his arms circled my waist. I ground into him and his hands went down to cup my bum. It was rather a nice feeling having my bum fondled while we shmaltsed together. I could feel his muscularity through his shirt. We stayed like that for two more dances before I returned to the girls. Again I was the last and paid up.
The next challenge was to get our tits felt up. Megan said that she already qualified during the last dances and so did Sam. That left Jackie, Donna and me. Donna went back to a guy that she had been dancing with before as did Sam. In no time I was back in a clinch on the dance floor. My nipples were standing out like chapel hat pegs, because I was willing my man to touch my breasts. My breasts may have been small but they were hungry to be touched. I danced as sexily as I could and slowly felt his hand move up my side. I could barely wait for his hand to reach my nipple and moved to make it more available. When he finally touched my breast cupped it and played with the nipple through the fine wool it was as if I had had an electric shock. We spent the next two dances with him fondling first one then the other. People could see and I did not care. When I finally dragged myself away it struck me that I could describe the feel of those hands in detail but if you asked me to describe his face I would have been pushed.
Again I lost and bought the shots. Donna had bought her guy back to the bar as had Megan. We got our heads together and the next challenge was a snog with tongues. Donna claimed to have qualified already. Megan disappeared back to the dance floor with her man and was in a tongue clench with her man in no time. Sam was quickly back with a guy she had danced with before and was soon lip locked with him. That left Angie and me. I was not going to be left out last again. I spotted a hunk of a guy nursing a drink at the bar. He was good looking, well presented and alone. I went up to him and said that I was very sorry but that I had an over whelming need to kiss him and that I would be very much obliged if he would indulge me. He looked briefly taken aback then a big smile crossed his face and he said he would be honoured as he took me in his arms. He was a fair bit taller than me even with my heels on. He was solid and hunky. Our lips met softly at first then I started to tickle his lip with my tongue. In no time we were in a hot and steamy clinch. I had flash backs to my time in Belgium. I had initiated a kiss with a man and was being thoroughly turned on by it, we kissed for a while then chatted then kissed then had a dance and kissed .
I said that I had to go freshen up but that I would meet him back at the bar. When I returned to the girls Donna Megan and Sam had guys in tow. We freshened up our make up and Jackie had to buy the next shots. Sam said we had just under half an hour before taxi time and the last challenge was skin on skin, hand on fanny and/or hand on cock.
We had another shot and while the other girls went off with their partners, I went off to collect my hunk. I kissed him hello again and it developed into a full blooded snog. He suggested that we find a quiet place where we could concentrate on what we were doing. He led me by the hand until we found a booth. We settled in behind the table and started the tongue tango again. I was getting good at teasing his tongue and nipping his lips.
I felt his hand on my thigh caressing and starting to move upward he reached the bare flesh above my stockings and pleasant as the sensation was, I came to my senses enough to take his hand firmly in mine, remove it from my leg and place it on my boob. We were side by side in the booth and he was able to reach round my back and inside my dress via the low back. The feeling as he played with my nipple was wonderful. His slight stubble was a little rough on my smooth skin and he smelt very male. I knew that I could not have his hand on me so I started to explore. As I brushed the front of his trouser I could feel the bulge of his erection. I stroked it a few times through his trousers and he pressed my hand with his. His kissing became more urgent. I undid the zip of his trousers and rummaged inside. His cock sprung into my hand and free of its constriction. For the first time in my life I had my hand on a man’s cock. It was hard as iron under a soft silky skin. It was fascinating. I slowly rubbed him and he let out little sighs of pleasure. I could feel his pre cum on my fingers, lubricating my hand. I started slowly wanting to make his pleasure last. I wanted to retain control over him. Every time I felt him close I slowed down eventually I went faster and faster till he exploded over my hand. He shot streams and I was lucky that my clothes did not get covered. Not only did I have a feeling of power over him but I came just before he did. We shuddered and flopped together. Typical man, as soon as he had got his rocks off, the intensity of his kissing dropped off. I took some tissues and cleaned him up as he started to soften. His cock was lovely. It was the same length and a little thicker than mine used to be. His glans was a beautiful shape and definitely larger than mine. I had never really thought of a cock as a beautiful object before, but it was.
He asked me if we could either go back to my place or his, he was disappointed when I said that I was going home with my friends. He pestered me to agree to a date with him and I said that I would think about it. We exchanged phone numbers and after one last snog it was taxi time.
All four of the others looked as though they had a bit of stubble burn, all had lips that looked well used. I supposed that I must look the same. Donna said that she was taking her hunk home and was going to jump his bones all night.
The other four of us were laughing and joking as we got into the taxi. The first question was whether the last challenge had been achieved. Jackie said that she had been fingered by an expert. He had got her to orgasm twice. He was definitely potential for a return match. She could well give him a call. Megan said that her one was a rat, a hunk of a sexy rat, but a rat none the less. He had made no secret that he was married and that his wife was visiting her sister. He was pressing hard for her to go home and have sex in the marital bed. She could feel he was well endowed when we were dancing and she had already had a feel. When they found a quiet place he made no bones about getting his old man out. She had been prepared to be pissed off about his behaviour, but when she saw the cock it was beautiful and substantial. She had an overwhelming urge to kiss it so she did and ended up giving him a blow job. Did she swallow? No I let it dribble out on his trousers. He was a mess. It served him right. Even then he was suggesting that I became his bit on the side. His cock was lovely but not that lovely. Had she come? Oh yes she had come earlier on the dance floor. He had been caressing her clit as they snogged. Very satisfactory.
What about Sam? Skins both ways, she had been expertly manipulated by her partner and had come two times, she had reciprocated but had been a little disappointed with the size and quality of his todger. She hadn’t been tempted in the slightest to give him a blow job. He had been a bloody good kisser though and he really knew how to fondle a girls breasts. Her nipples had had a fine workout that evening. Did she want to see him again? No not even for a good snog. His nipple technique was tempting but overall no.
Ok what about Jen? Yes I had made my man come. I had no other option like the rest of them. What was his like? Rather beautiful and so silky and like iron as well. Did he come copiously? Oh yes I thought he would never stop. Did you come? Yes. Did you blow him at all? No. Were you tempted? The thought did cross my mind. Did I want to see him again? Did I? Of course not, but the idea tickled.
We were then into ratings.
Hunkiness: Sam 8
Jackie 7
Megan 8
Me 8
Movement Sam 6
Jackie 8
Megan 7
Me 7
Snogging Sam 9
Jackie 8
Megan 8
Me 9
Breast technique Sam 8
Jackie 7
Megan 9
Me 9
Finger technique Sam 8
Jackie 10
Megan 7
Me no score
Cock size Sam 6
Jackie 8
Megan 9
Me 8
Cock beauty Sam 5
Jackie 7
Megan 9
Me 8
Total shagability Sam 7
Jackie 7
Megan 8
Me how do I judge? I am not shagable. But if I was 8
The whole evening I had not been jealous. I had not been mad at Sam for playing with men. I had not worried when she snogged men, was fingered and played with their cocks. It may have been very different if there had been a chance of her going to bed with someone else, but rightly or wrongly, that worry had not crossed my mind. I had been one of the girls that night, acting outrageously and having fun.
We dropped the two girls off, got home and fell into each others arms on the sofa.
“Did you enjoy that Jen?”
“Yes that was one hell of a buzz. It was fun being bad and letting my hair down. I know it was wrong to egg each other on but it was fun.”
“How did it feel having men lusting after you?”
“Strange but fun.”
“Was it nice having breasts for a man to play with?”
“Yes, it was driving me crazy as he played with my nipples. I wanted him to kiss and suck them. It was the first time that I have been really pleased to have breasts.”
“What was the snogging like?”
“At first I was reluctant but as soon as I just accepted that I was a girl, then it became exciting.”
“How was your first cock?”
“Surprisingly beautiful, I had never thought that cocks could be beautiful.”
“Did you think of sucking his cock?”
“The thought did cross my mind.”
“If you had been physically able, do you think you would have contemplated shagging him?”
“I don’t know.”
“What was it about his maleness that you found attractive?”
“His smell, his strength, the hardness of his muscles, the softness of his lips, the beauty of his cock but most of all his lust for me, it made me feel powerful.”
“Welcome to the world of women, girl.”
We were silent and cuddled for a while.
“Sam, how often do you have girls nights out?”
“Not often, only on very special occasions.”
“Are they always that raunchy?”
“Sometimes a little less, but generally the same or worse.”
“How often does it end up in bed with a stranger?”
“What people do on girl’s night out stays on girl’s night out. No tales.”
That left me with a slight nagging doubt. Sam told me that she was still feeling so horny that if someone did not shag her in the next ten minutes then she would have to go out hunting for a man. I duly obliged as often as I could. We slept the sleep of the dead but when I awoke in the morning I was very conflicted as to whether I felt like a man or a woman.
When I told Sam how I was feeling, she cuddled me for a while and told me that for now I needed to be a woman. Any time that I felt masculine and wanted to give her a good seeing to, I was more than welcome. She said that she understood exactly how I felt. She was having difficulty seeing me as a man. I no longer smelt like one, felt like one, or acted like one. I may have gathered from the night before that she was extremely heterosexual and related totally to men.
She said that we had no choice but to continue down the road we were on. She loved me totally and whatever happened we would stay partners. She wanted us to bring up a family as mother and father, but, if there was no other choice, as mother and mother.
Chapter Twenty One
Week twenty two and we kept looking for suitable candidates for me to meet. I had a couple more initial dates but it was so hard to find anyone who was acceptable and wanted a real relationship. In the meantime we worked on coming up with an estimate for the work that was needed on the system that Justin had sold the NHS. Sam and Danny worked together to come up with a price. The calculations showed that it was going to cost the trust almost as much as it would have cost them to install our system in the first place. We gave them our estimate. We discovered that the person who was in charge of the procurement was different to the man who had previously been in charge. When we enquired about him, we were told that he had moved on to another role. This was worth following up.
Week twenty three and the trust accepted our quote. We were amazed that they had acted so quickly, but they assured us that they had no choice. We decided that Sam, Megan and Danny would work on the Trust project and Jackie, Tim and I would look after all the other business. We would split freelancers between us.
We were now into the start of May and we hit a patch of warm and sunny weather. We took to working outside whenever possible and Sam suggested that we use the opportunity to get some tanning. The girls worked in bikinis when outside and with a wrap on when they came indoors. Sam looked stunning in her bikini. It was barely decent and you could just see the edge of her butterfly. I wore a skimpy top, I did not have much to cover but I felt better with a bikini top on than going topless. It was really strange being on show in a bikini. I needed a sufficiently full bottom to hide my gaff. It brought home to me how feminine my shape was becoming. The boys all wore shorts. I became aware that they guys tended to have a larger than usual bulge in their shorts when they were working round the bikini clad girls. When I commented on that fact to Sam her only response was.
“Yes, I know, fun isn’t it. You get to assess what each guy is packing and how easily aroused they are. You never know when that information will be useful.”
And with that she gave me an exaggerated lewd wink.
We went to the gay club for a night out on Saturday but I had the feeling that Sam’s heart was not in it.
Week twenty four and we were well into the work on patching up the Trusts system. I don’t know whether I was pleased or not that the heat wave ended and we went back to normal clothing. The reduction in sexual tension was palpable and the work rate went up noticeably.
I had been seeing my mum and dad fairly regularly and mum had just taken it her stride to treat me as a daughter. It was clear though that she was concerned that everything was alright between Sam and me. She asked straight out whether our sex life was still good. When I asked her why the question she said that she had the impression that Sam was fidgety. I had also picked up on the same feeling. I needed to talk with her about it.
Interesting information came from the NHS Trust. The person who had been responsible for the procurement, one Jonathon King-Smyth, had been moved sideways out of purchasing and into some job in grounds and services, whatever that was. It appeared that his purchase of Justin’s system had been seen as a bad error and thus the sideways move. It was commonly agreed that he was a thoroughly nice chap and it must have been a temporary lapse of judgement. We were not so sure and decided to investigate. Sam, Megan and Danny took every opportunity to find out about Mr King-Smyth.
Megan was sure that while she was working on the system in the Trust buildings, she could hack into the payroll and HR records without fear of discovery.
During the week I had another session with the doctor. He was still amazed at the speed with which I was responding to the hormones. He reduced my estrogen input slightly and my testosterone blockers were reduced by a significant amount. He said that at the rate my testicles were atrophying, they would probably have ceased producing any testosterone by my next visit. I was very close to complete chemical castration. He said that I might as well get them removed because they no longer had any useful function and were now merely a cancer risk.
I asked what would happen now if I decided to change my mind and revert to being a male. After giving me a strange look he answered that from now on I would need to take a testosterone supplement for the rest of my life. I would need a double mastectomy. My muscle mass could return with a sufficiently large dosage of testosterone. My penis size would never return to its previous full size but some recovery in firmness would be experienced. My beard would never grow back in any real sense. My moods would probably change and my skin and hair would become more coarse. My face would remain quite feminine unless I had more surgery done. In other words, I would never return to being the Tom that I was, but I could achieve a somewhat lesser version.
I kept Sam up to date with the latest from the Doc and I could tell that the information upset her. She was putting on a brave face.
We decided to review where we were. I was living virtually all the time as a woman. At work and whenever we went out I presented myself as a woman. It was second nature for me to use my female voice now, even when I was cross. I wore my gaff all day and everyday except for sometimes at the weekend when we were slobbing about. I wore women’s clothes all the time except when I was dressed in sweats. I put on make up without thinking. I decided that the coming weekend I would be Tom to see if I still could.
By the end of the week we had found out that our Mr King-Smyth was married with a family that was grown up. He had two passions, golf and The Masons. My dad was a mason so I would recruit him to find out what he could. Tim played golf and we agreed to pay his green fees so that he could play at our target’s golf club.
At the weekend I ditched bra, panties and gaff. I wore my old boxer style pants and I tried on an old pair of my jeans. They were far too uncomfortable. My shape had changed too much. I found a baggy old pair of shorts that were comfortable and donned an old sweat shirt. I stomped about in a male manner and talked in my old Tom voice. I was careful to use male mannerisms, especially rummaging my meat and two veg. I thought I was doing ok until we decided to watch a film that evening. By the time we got through the film we had both had a good cry at the sad parts. What a girly reaction.
I had felt odd with no bra. My nipples were rubbing against the roughness of my sweatshirt and I was conscious of the jiggle and weight of my boobs when I moved. Sam had tried to keep a straight face all day but when she saw me absent mindedly caressing a nipple during one of the sex scenes in the film, she burst out laughing.
“Tom, Jen you have been acting like a bull dyke all day. It is as if you are a woman trying to convince all and sundry that you are really a butch bloke. I love you for trying, but for as long as you are on a diet of estrogen and deprived of your man juices, then I think you have to go with what comes naturally. I can live with it. I have to.”
When we talked about my efforts I had to admit that I found the female clothes comfortable and that dressing up was fun. I liked trying to co ordinate colours and textures. I felt more confident, if I put a little make up on before I went out. I enjoyed wearing jewelry. I loved the feel of dangly ear rings touching my neck. I liked brushing my auburn hair. For now at least I was a million miles away from the rugger bugger, testosterone fueled guy that I had been before.
On Sunday the sun shone. We are lucky to have a large garden that is not overlooked so we spent a large part of the day lying naked in the sun, reading, dozing and making love. We both loved being naked in the sun.
Chapter Twenty Two
Week twenty four and we were progressing well with the NHS trust work. Megan had found a massive amount about King-Smyth. We knew what his bank accounts were for payroll and expenses purposes. We knew his address, his job history, his medical history, his family and so much more. It was interesting that his salary was paid into a joint family account but his expenses were paid into his named account in a totally different bank.
Dad had agreed to find out any dirt through the Masonic lodges. I spent a couple of evenings following Mr Smyth home and watching the comings and goings at his house. It all looked pretty normal, but he did have a rather nice Porche in the garage. He never seemed to use it for work, only in the evening.
Sam and I despaired of finding a suitable target for me through the dating sites. Donna came up with a brilliant suggestion. She had heard that a friend of hers loved walking and after breaking up with her husband, she had joined a walking group. The group was mostly singles and the people were genuine and nice. It sounded a great idea. I was going to join at least two walking groups. Weekends were going to be spent rambling in the country, it would reduce my Sam time, but at least I enjoyed walking. After a few days research, we found the best options. One group met weekly on a Saturday and another two met every other week on a Sunday. I was going to end up getting very fit.
We asked Megan whether she thought she could hack into the bank system to get a print out of Mr Smyth’s bank statements. She said that it was too risky for her and almost certainly out her range. She said that she did know someone who might do it for a fee. She would ask him.
When we were sitting around after dinner Sam had been engrossed on the computer.
“That’s it, all settled, we go next week for one week.”
“Where?”
“South of France.”
“How?”
“We are close to finishing the trust project. What we don’t finish by the end of next week, we can leave to Megan and Danny. You are going to wear your most butch outfit, put your hair in a boys pony tail and pretend to be male for the journey there and back.”
“Very funny.”
“We fly into Bezier and have a car booked. We are stopping in a naturist camp site in a caravan.”
“What? Don’t be silly. How can I be naked with tits and a willy?”
“No problem. I have researched a way that you can look like a woman naked. What you do is to use surgical glue to tuck your willy back between the cheeks of your bum, then pull the folds of your scrotum over it to look like the folds of the labia and glue it all down. I have seen pictures of it and it looks very real. I even found a lady who does the glueing and you have an appointment to see her on Friday. The glue is good for at least a week but will start to come apart after that. No gaff for a week and I will have you all to myself.”
“When did you start to arrange all this?”
“Three weeks ago, I realized that once you start courting and going walking and all, I shall probably only see you at work, at breakfast and in bed. I want you all to myself even if it is only a week. Oh and here is your international naturist card in the name of Jenifer, photo and all. On the plane and hiring a car, you will be my husband, at the camp you will be the cousin that I live and work with. I thought sisters might cause a few raised eyebrows when we snog.”
It sounded great. I couldn’t wait.
“I suppose you realise, that if your willy is going to be out of sight and action for the week, you only have two more days to give me a good rodgering, so no more idling, you have a job to do.”
We spent as much of the next two days making love as we could. On Friday evening we went to see a nurse who in her spare time worked with transgender and transvestite people. First I had to have the hair on my scrotum removed. She then showed us how push my balls up into my body cavity, fold the penis into the empty scrotum and use the surgical glue to create a very realistic labia. I could still pee out of the rear end of the false labia. Once that had been completed I needed a bit of sculpting of my pubic hair and, voila, I looked all girl.
Later that evening, I stood, naked, in front of a long mirror and inspected myself. I looked all woman. I looked tall and a little bit chunky, with the slim hips of an athlete, a flat stomach and the slightly broad shoulders of a swimmer. I had a small but well formed bust with nipples that reacted to just about everything. Anyone looking at me would have seen an attractive athletic woman. I kind of liked what I saw.
In the morning we were up at the crack of dawn. Our packing was simple. All we needed was a couple of pairs of knickers and bras, a sun dress, a pair of shorts a couple of tops and a wrap for covering up when we had too much sun. We had already started to get a tan in the garden.
It was a beautiful warm mid May morning when we arrived in Beziers and picked up the car. About forty minutes later and we were being shown round our caravan. Clothes came off as quickly as possible and we headed to the pool. It is a lovely feeling swimming naked in the sunshine. It felt strange with boobs. They almost felt like water wings. I was very conscious of them as I swam. They may have been small, but they were there. My arms brushed against them when I swam the crawl.
The camp covered many acres of woodland, meadow and heath. The concentration of chalets and caravans was very low and it being May, there were very few tourers. Most of the clientele were a lot older than us, probably pensioners. There were a few young couples with preschool children and some about our age. Everybody was happy, welcoming and very easy to talk to.
We crashed out with our books by the pool for a while. As men walked by I could hear Sam muttering to herself. When I asked her what she was saying, she said that she was marking the men on the size and the beauty of their todgers and their overall shagability. From that point on we would score the first two factors and the last was decided by the question, would you, and a thumbs up or down given. I became aware fairly soon that when Sam walked about, stretched or did her exercises some of the men had to turn on their stomachs to avoid embarrassment. I wondered if I could have the same effect and to my delight I did cause some embarrassed hiding of stiffies.
Sam admitted to me that she had been playing games earlier and promised to behave in future, yeah likely. We walked round the grounds hand in hand. It was so beautiful with the wildflowers and the teeming bird life. After the stress of the previous six months it was as if we had stopped the world and stepped off it into paradise.
We ate in the little restaurant in the evening. We just wore our wraps tied over our boobs. Some people dressed for dinner others stayed naked. It was warm and friendly and the food was simple but good. The local wine was of a very drinkable quality so we indulged. When we went back to the cabin Sam started my education. She took me right back to basics of how to touch her to give her the greatest pleasure. She taught me where her greatest pleasure spots were. She slowly instructed me how I could bring her to climax after climax without ever penetrating her with my dick. It was a dream. She showed me how I could use my lips and tongue as well as my fingers. I learned for the first time how to manipulate her clitoris with my tongue, how to use it to find her g spot, how to gently stimulate her bum with my tongue. I learned so much about giving pleasure. I could keep her riding high on a wave of intense pleasure. Why had she never taught me this before?
I also learned how intense my pleasure could be. She showed me what pleasure I could have just from her hands and lips on my boobs. My biggest surprise was how sensitive I was between my legs. By stroking the lips of my false labia and applying a little pressure I would be driven to an intense orgasm. The area between my cock and my sphincter was an erogenous zone that I had not discovered before. Sam could bring me to ecstasy by playing with my sphincter. I had never felt so aroused in so many ways before. I suppose that my sexual pleasure had been so centred on my dick that I had not allowed myself to be aware of all the other pleasures. Kissing was now an art form. We could both get to the cusp of an orgasm by kissing alone. Our days were spent soaking the sun, walking, swimming and making slow languorous love. In all the time I had been with Sam, I had never experienced such intense sexual pleasure. It was never a rush to orgasm. It was an intense peak of pleasure that went on and on and on.
We talked and talked about the pleasure we could give each other. I asked Sam why she had never taught me how to give her pleasure like that before. She told me that I had not been ready to learn and if I had stayed as Tom I probably never would have. She really missed the raunchy full on sex that she used to have with Tom, but this was a lovely alternative. I could not argue with her.
We made love like two women and the sharing and the understanding were complete.
During the week we had kept in touch with Jackie and Megan. All was going smoothly with our projects. They had almost completed the Trust project and everything else was fine. Megan said that she had contacted her super hacker contact. He was happy to do what we wanted for a £5000 fee. He could not start for four weeks though because he was doing a freelance job for the government.
At the end of our idyllic week Sam sat me down to talk.
“I want to talk to both Tom and Jen. I think Tom is slowly disappearing and Jen is becoming more real. I wanted to show both of you how much I love you. I wanted to reassure you that I still love you and want you. I still have the Tom that I love, all of that is still here. I now have Jen as well and this is a big bonus. I love having you as my girlfriend, Jen is more than just bits of Tom. She is a real person and I love her to bits. I would hate to lose her out of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with her and Tom. I want us to have children together and I am getting really broody. I want to have a family with Tom and Jen. We can be two mums together if necessary. I don’t care that we are in danger of Justin wrecking our lives. I want our child. If everything goes wrong and Justin takes you away from me, I will still have our child.
If you agree I would like to come off contraception and start trying to get pregnant as soon as possible. If we are lucky it might happen in my first or second cycle. I contacted the sperm bank and fertility clinic and I could have my first try in just over two weeks time. I am sorry to dump this all on you, but it is something that I really want.
Before you make your mind up, though, there is one other rather delicate thing that I need to talk to you about. The Tom that I love is still there, the Jen that I love is now there as is the Jen I lust after. The Tom that I lust after is disappearing. I have a feeling that he may never come back. Your love making is becoming more and more naturally feminine. It is much more Jen than Tom. I think that it will be almost entirely Jen soon. I know that I am heterosexual and Tom awoke in me a love and a need for full on raunchy sex. I love being taken by a testosterone fuelled man. I am afraid that every now and then I will want a good seeing to. I do not want to be unfaithful to either Tom or Jen but at some time, as an alternative to Jen, I am going to need a man. I suspect that I will want a no complications shag, not love making. I think that sex with a man, who I have no demands on and has no demands on me, would be the answer. I don’t know whether I would be able to do without the occasional heavy duty shag. If Tom were able to return it will not be necessary. This is something that is very difficult to say, but I know that I will start to itch in a way that Jen can not scratch.
The bottom line is that I want us to have our family and I want us to be together forever but I do suspect that my heterosexual lust is an itch that at some stage I will find difficult to avoid scratching.”
The suggestion of starting a family came as a great surprise. The question of the itch had been a concern that had been growing in my mind for weeks. I knew that my erections were getting less frequent, slower and not so big. I knew that our love making was as much lesbian as heterosexual now. I knew that the last week had been gloriously lesbian, but I was scared. I had seen how much Sam enjoyed male attention at the girl’s night out. I did not want to lose her. It occurred to me that I had not been jealous that night. That had just been playing though. What would I feel about her having sex with another man? Would I be able to cope. At that moment I did not think so.
Our journey back was quiet. Both of us were deep in thought. Sam had been making a statement, not asking permission. She had realized that she had a need that would still remain, even if I was unable to fulfill it. She had been totally relaxed and comfortable making love to me woman to woman for the last week. It was also clear that there was some confusion and discomfort when we were making love both heterosexually and as two women at the same time.
When we got home we made beautiful lesbian love again and continued on and off through the Sunday. On Sunday evening we talked.
“Sam, I love the idea of us starting a family. If all goes well, then we will both be there to bring up the children. If I end up dead in a Thai brothel, then I will know that you will be safe with our child. I will be the best mum or dad, if I get the chance, and I know you will make a lovely mum.
The big elephant in the room is your sexual need. Ever since this whole thing started I have been terrified of losing you. I know you love men. I know you love sex and need it. I know that I am becoming less and less a man. I often forget that I am a man and the majority of the time I think of myself as female now. I know that heterosexual sex with me now is not as satisfying as it was and it scares me. I do not know if I could handle you having sex with another man. I don’t know what knowledge of you being with another man would do to me. Thank you for being open with me. We need to keep talking about all the real deep problems if we are going to get through this. I had no problem with you snogging and groping another man on girl’s night out but that was just a wicked game we were all playing. I want us to have a family and yes please can we go ahead with the fertilization.”
Chapter Twenty Three
Week twenty six and we were back at the studio. The team were both delighted to see us and jealous of our tans. When we had been away new enquiries about work had come in and quotes been sent out. The work at the trust had been completed and signed off and was working sweetly. Because of the preparation work that we had done during the original bidding process, it had been smooth and easy. We had the excuse to go back and do our detective work around the trust. Sam was going to be our sleuth.
It was now warm enough to spend evenings outdoors so Sam and I did our yoga and aerobics outdoors in the nude. It was fun and it was sexy. My glueing was still holding so we looked like a very sexy pair of girls. After a couple of days, it occurred to me that I had not been too bothered about being glued away. Watching Sam doing yoga in the nude awoke stirrings below and I found the solvent to free myself. Once free I returned to the garden, erection to the fore and took Sam pleasantly by surprise. It had been nearly two weeks since I was last inside her. We had never had a gap that long before. It felt good and I felt like Tom despite being aware of my breasts and nipples. Tom performed manfully for much of the evening and into the night.
The problem was that the following morning it was back on with the gaff. I was conscious of its discomfort all day, having not been troubled by it for weeks.
Sam found out that our Mr Smyth was well connected with several of the trust board and seen as a very clubbable chap. He was thought to have extravagant tastes and to be an excellent host. It was assumed that he must have a wealthy wife or a private income to supplement his NHS salary. It turned out that he was part of the same social circle that Justin moved in. We were by now fairly certain that there had to have been collusion between Justin and Mr King-Smyth. All we needed now was proof.
Sam’s dad had found that Mr Smyth was a pillar of the Masonic Province. Not only was he a revered past master of his lodge, but he was active at Provincial level. He rubbed shoulders with senior police officers, councilors and at least two of the trust board. He was going to be difficult to get at. No untoward gossip about him was forthcoming apart from his reputation for generous entertaining, though it was commented on that he had been less lavish in recent months. We wondered whether he had been making money from his procurement role with more than Justin.
Come the end of the week Danny dropped a bombshell. He told us that he loved working for us but was finding a regular job with regular hours a bit restrictive. He would love to carry on as a freelance but could not cope with regular hours. If a lady wanted a liason with him, he felt that it was inconsiderate to put them off. He had been invited by one of his lady friends for a week away in the sun. Since the death of her husband she had not had the proper company of a man and he felt it would have been unkind to turn her down. He apologized for dropping us in the lurch. He gave Tim a big hug and then gave Sam, Jackie, Megan and me each a big hug and a warm kiss on the lips. Each was full and longer than just a goodbye. I was last in line and watching the others, I was kind of looking forward to my turn. He left us each with a silly grin on our faces. It was impossible to be mad with him.
On Saturday I had my first outing with the walking group. We were walking along the grand union canal from Rickmansworth. The irony was that when I was a boy, Justin and I used to cycle to the canal and spend the day on the towpath helping at the locks. Now, to all appearances, here I was as a woman on the hunt for a suitable man. I was dressed in shorts and good walking shoes. It was a warm sunny day and I wore a t shirt with a jumper and waterproofs in my backpack. I had been wearing either a cinch or a corset for most of the time, so despite the heat, I thought I had better show as much waist as possible and wore a cinch. We met up at the rendezvous and I introduced myself to the leader. The group were all between twenty and about fiftyish. There was a pretty even mix of men and women and of the twenty six people, only three married couples. It quickly turned out that all three of the married couples had met as part of the walking group.
The day was very pleasant. We walked and talked, changing walking partners from time to time. We stopped at a pub for lunch and were back at our start point at about five o clock. We had walked about eight miles over the day and I was tired, but relaxed. The crowd had been very pleasant. Almost everyone was a single. I heard tales of marriages that had collapsed and partners who had died. I heard stories of people who were still waiting to meet Mr or Miss right. The saddest tale was of a man whose wife had a crippling condition that left her completely helpless. Once a month he had a nurse in and joined the walking group for a day of respite. He was not at all bitter. He must be a saint.
The group would meet again in two weeks. There were lots of nice people but no likely prospects as far as I could see. When I got home, I was tired and sleepy. I dozed on the sofa, cuddling with Sam. Sam’s day had been spent, sun bathing, shopping and trying to find out anything new on our Mr Smyth.
Sunday, I was up early, the weather was not as good so I wore a pair of light weight walking trousers, a T shirt and a fine jumper and despite the discomfort, the cinch. Waterproofs were in my backpack. We were walking in the surrey hills. I parked and met up with the group at ten in the morning. It was dry but cloudy. This was a weekly walking group and much larger than the one yesterday. There must have been well over forty walkers. I reported in and introduced myself to a very scoutmasterish leader. I was a bit taken aback by his manner when he took my details and my weekly subs.
A smiling lady of about sixty, saw my look of alarm and came up to me.
“Don’t worry about Dominic, he is the same with everyone. He is both a bachelor, welsh and a geography teacher. Poor soul, he has the worst possible interpersonal skills but he does all the organizing for this group and is a dear, really. I think he was hoping to find true love but he is scared of both men and women. I am Liz, let me introduce you around. Are you here for exercise, the wildlife or to find a new companion?”
Well that was straight to the point.
“I suppose I am here for all three. I love walking and the countryside and I no longer have a partner. (Sam forgive me) I have been on my own for months now and I am fed up with the dickheads you meet on line. What about you?”
“I lost my husband to cancer five years ago. I started with this group four years ago. I had a relationship with one of the group for a couple of years, but that was more a case of friends with benefits. I now am courting my lovely John. We spend some time at his place and some at mine. We can’t decide which to sell. That is John over there talking to the lady in the pink top”
“I know I should not need to ask but what is a friend with benefits?”
“Bless you, you poor innocent, it is a friend with whom you can have pleasant, uncomplicated sex, without the need for emotional attachment. Someone you can have a good chat with, enjoy their company, enjoy the sex with but have no residual attachment to. I can recommend the arrangement until you find someone to love. It keeps the juices flowing. I would recommend Dougie, but I think he might be a bit old for you.”
Liz seemed to have a permanent twinkle in her eye. She was obviously getting the most enjoyment she could out of life. Her partner John was equally twinkly and fun. I was soon introduced to several of the group and lost track of names.
I walked with several different people through the day. One woman, who was about my age, walked with me for a fair time. I learnt about her struggle as an artist, her problematic love life and her problems with confidence around men. She was a lovely girl, attractive and with a warm personality. She had suffered at the hands of an unsympathetic bastard of a father and it had left her unsure and scared when dealing with men. I liked her and could easily have fallen for her if I was still Tom and I did not have Sam.
The men were a mixed bunch. I was cornered by one guy in his forties whose wife had divorced him in order to marry a long time friend. Having spent half an hour listening to him, I could not blame her. A second guy was in his sixties. He had lost his wife to cancer two years before after a long illness. He was charming, good looking, witty and extremely pleasant company to walk with. He saw me as a daughter rather than as a woman, so no joy there.
Another one was about my age, but somehow very immature. He was fine and he was fun, but it was like talking to an adolescent. My favourite was Mike. He was pleasant to walk with. He didn’t talk much but was just happy to walk side by side. Questions and comments came at intervals. Often he spoke just to point out a bird or a wildflower. He was easy company. I found out very little about him but at the end of the walk, he asked me whether I was coming again next week.
By the time I got home, I was absolutely shattered. I had walked sixteen miles in two days. I was not used to it. Sam asked me about the walkers and I recounted the day. She was amused about Liz’s comments about friends with benefits. We ate the meal Sam had prepared and I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.
Week twenty seven and when I woke up, I was alone in bed. Sam had allowed me to sleep in. I was stiff and my feet ached. A fit ex rugby player like me should have been able to walk sixteen miles in two days. I needed to build my stamina again. I was raw between my legs where the gaff had rubbed. It was good for many things but not long distance walking.
When I joined the others in the studio we had a group meeting. We needed to replace Danny and take on at least one more to meet our workload. We let our freelancers know that there was a full time slot available and also put the word around the wider community. We immediately had a response from Karen. She was someone that we rated but had lost touch with when she decided to go walk about through Australia and New Zealand. She had been back for a while and was looking to get herself onto the property ladder. Karen’s output was good, she fitted well with the team and she was obsessed about producing good quality work. We welcomed her on board straight away.
A few others expressed a vague interest but none were pressing. The odd one out though was an expression of interest from a sixty two year old man. He had been the head of IT at a large company and when the company had merged with an even bigger company, he had become redundant. A substantial settlement and an early pension had been given to him and, although he had enjoyed his retirement for five months, he was now bored witless. He did not want to take on a big managerial job again, but he did want to write systems and produce code. We met him later in the week and he was a lovely smiley granddad of a guy. We both took to him. He seemed to exude wisdom and common sense. Martin was welcomed onto the team to start the following week. A couple of our freelancers heard we had taken Martin on and they were delighted as they rated him as an ok guy.
We were busy and we were making money.
Friday night came and our little team celebrated developing business with a meal out. There were fifteen of us including the freelancers. Wine was taken, jokes were told, much flirting took place and a good time was had by all. There was a competition telling Danny stories. The tales of his exploits with the fairer sex abounded. There were even a couple of blushing tales from recipients of his favours. He was toasted as an absent friend.
Friday night I asked Sam to glue me up so that I did not need the gaff. It took a couple of goes and a lot of mess of glue and solvent but we got it right in the end after much giggling and laughter. We made love as women that night.
Saturday morning and I was out with my fortnightly group. There were about twenty in the group. The walk was a bit uninspiring and the company bland. We only did six miles and I felt very flat after it. I was home early and Sam instructed me to have a bath and get my glad rags on. She had got us tickets to see the Royal Ballet dance Myerling. We had not been to the ballet in ages. Both of us were dressed to kill as we arrived at covent garden. Our seats were the best, in the stalls, and we saw the most beautiful and sad ballet. We were both weeping by the end. The emotional charge was almost overpowering. I had always loved the ballet, but I had never felt it so deeply before. We were so excited by the experience that we talked for ages about the beauty that we had experienced.
Up early again the following morning. I took Sam breakfast in bed and then set out to meet my group. We were out Chalfont way and I had taken the train. I met the others at the rendezvous and was again accosted by Dominic. I recognized most of the faces but there were several new ones. The total number was about the same.
I spent time with Liz and John. Dougie walked with me for a while and you could tell what was going through the old rogues mind. Men can be so transparent. My girl friend from the previous week walked with me and again talked about her father. I was interested and concerned for her, but starting to get a little wary.
There were three more men that I spent time with, but none of them resonated with me. It was a relief when, in the afternoon, Mike fell into step with me. After all the previous chatter it was nice to walk in companionable silence. We carried on our sporadic conversation for the rest of the afternoon. I was too emotionally drained to do any more prospecting among the males.
When I got home Sam again wanted a breakdown of the runners and riders. I do not know why but I hardly mentioned Mike. Sam was excited by the prospect of her first visit to the clinic the following week. We cuddled and after my exercise I was soon fast asleep.
Chapter Twenty Four
Week twenty eight and we had the first visit to the clinic to look forward to and I had a visit to the doc. We had to use the solvent to release my todger for the visit. The doc gave me a very thorough inspection.
“Good news and bad news Jen, which do you want first?”
“Try the good news first.”
“Well you progression through female puberty is quite remarkable for someone your age. I have never come across someone, who is not inter sexed, who has developed so rapidly. You are where I would expect someone to be after fifteen to eighteen months. Your breast development is well through to Tanner stage three and getting into Tanner stage four. Your fat redistribution has progressed rapidly and, most oddly, you seem to have had some development of the pelvis. I may be mistaken, but unless I got my initial measurements wrong, there has been some female development in a slight widening. I know it does not make sense, but that is what appears to have happened.”
This was hardly good news. I was turning into a woman at a much faster rate than we had anticipated. I might never get back to us being Tom and Sam if we did not find a way out soon.
“What is the bad news?”
“When we last met, I told you that the rate of atrophy of your testicles was very fast. Well they are effectively dead now. There is a swelling in one and I would like to give you a local anesthetic and draw some blood from the testicle. I am concerned that the dead tissue may have gone sceptic.”
The doc sprayed my scrotum with something that numbed the surface. He then inserted a needle and drew some liquid from the swollen testicle. I could see that the colour was strange as he drew the plunger back.
“I was right. The tissue has become infected. I fear that if your testicles are not removed, they will become very dangerous to your health. Within a very short period gangrene is likely to set in. I strongly advise their urgent removal. They are dead tissue and no use to you. I can do it now if you agree.”
“Let me just talk to Sam first.”
He left us to talk and as soon as he left the room Sam said it was a no brainer. It might be difficult to take such a step emotionally but it was a must. The implications of their removal hit deeply. I would be a physical eunuch. I may already be one chemically but there was a finality about their removal.
We called him back in and told him to go ahead. Ten minutes later I had been physically neutered. It hurt my mind. I was in a black fug, feeling sorry for myself. Sam tried to comfort me that evening but I was deep in a black place. The following morning I was still depressed and did not get out of bed.
Sam was worried and called Rose asking her to come round and talk to me. Rose arrived mid morning and I spilled out my woes to her at length. She was someone who would understand. I whinged on and on about my loss and being a gelding and how life was awful. I sobbed and I sighed. Rose listened to it all.
“You selfish, self centered, stupid man. Do you realise what you are doing. You are in danger of losing the one thing you value above all else, Sam. You see everything in terms of what is happening to you. What about what is happening to Sam? She is slowly seeing the love of her life morphing and changing in front of her. She is losing much of the man she loves. You have some control over what is happening to you. She has none. At weekends she has to sit back while you go out looking for a potential mate. If you succeed she is in danger of losing you completely. If you fail she is probably in even greater danger. You can control what you do and the pace you take things at. Sam just has to sit back and watch. I am not surprised that she wanted to get pregnant, it is about the only part of her future that she has real control over. Stop thinking about yourself and think of Sam. Cherish her, reassure her, support her, communicate with her or you are going to drive her away”
There was more and by the end of Rose’s lecture I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself. After we had a cup of coffee and I had wiped my eyes and made myself presentable. Rose said her farewells and left. I went straight to Sam gave her a huge hug and kiss and told her that I loved her totally and utterly. I apologized for being such a self centred git and for thinking only of myself. I promised that I would think of her in the future. Her only response was, “good, about time.”
The new members fitted in straight away. Martin had many contacts and tentatively suggested that, if we were interested, then he could get leads for new contracts. Our response was, “go for it”.
At the end of the week we visited the clinic for our first attempt at getting Sam pregnant. She was both nervous and excited. I caused some confusion as both the husband and also female companion. Even though I dressed in jeans and tops almost all the time, I was unmistakably female. The whole process was a little bizarre and in the end Sam was left feeling very strange.
“If I am now pregnant, it would feel like the immaculate conception. How can I get pregnant without a good bout of rumpy pumpy. It just feels wrong.”
On Saturday we had a free day and spent it together, in the garden, in the sun. We cuddled and made love and in the evening we both got glammed up and went out for a meal. I had an opportunity to fuss over her and I took it in full. I stayed unglued that night so that we could make the most of each other. I was aware that Sam had got over her original problems, making love, with me looking and feeling like a woman. She now looked at me again as we made love. She also seemed comfortable with me inside her and our breasts rubbing together. We had found a softer, more sensuous way of making love. I had lost the animal thrusting and had become more involved with the nuances of touch and feeling. I was conscious that I was no longer strong enough to hold Sam like a toy and use her and dominate her physically. We missed the way that I had sometimes just taken her and she had submitted to my maleness and passion. It was much more a sharing now. I was happy with what we had, as was Sam, but I knew we both missed what had gone. Even at the height of passion my cock was now, noticeably diminished from when we had married. I had even started taking a Viagra substitute to help my erections.
Because the stitches from the orchiectomy had not healed I had to walk with the gaff again. Most of the crowd was there when I arrived at the rendezvous. I looked out for Mike but could not see him. My needy female friend buttonholed me early on and I spent a long half hour listening to all her worries and problems.
I walked with some of the single men. There was one who was eager to get to know me better, but he was short fat and had a number of little ticks and habits that you could not ignore. He was a nice guy and fun to talk to but, shallow as I am, I could not see me wooing him. Another guy was pleasant to look at but boring as hell, I found difficulty keeping track of what he was saying. My mind kept wandering. One very nice guy, probably in his early forties could have ticked the boxes but it was too soon since his wife had died. He was nowhere near ready to move on and, maybe never would be. This was the third week and I had not seen anyone to target.
We lunched late at a pub and we were ready to move on at half past two. After we had walked on for another mile or so I noticed Mike had joined us. When we drifted together I was happy to end my prospecting and just walk with Mike. We fell into our pattern of silences and occasional comments and questions. It transpired that he had spent the morning with his nine year old son. That was news. I did not know he was married, divorced, widowed or what. He chatted a little about how pleased he was that his son enjoyed rugby.
For the rest of the afternoon we talked rugby. I nearly spoiled everything by talking about playing. I quickly realized what I was saying and clarified that it was women’s rugby. It turned out that Mike played in the back row for a club that I had played against more than once. I must have tackled him and probably been flattened by him. As a player I had not been conscious of the size difference between me as a scrum half and him as a forward. My natural aggression made me want to take people on. Now Mike felt bigger and stronger than me. My natural feeling, now, was to look to him for protection not to try and hammer him into the ground.
That thought made me look at him again. He was probably six foot two and something about fourteen and a half stone. He was solid and athletic and I suppose he could be called good looking if you liked that sort of thing. We chatted on and the time passed very quickly.
When we parted I wondered how much I knew about him. He had a son he loved, he knew a lot about wildlife, played rugby, was interested in world affairs, was well read, knew about art and built furniture. Not much to know but a start.
I reported back to Sam and made a huge fuss of her over the evening.
Chapter Twenty Five
Week twenty nine and we met Kevin, the king hacker. I don’t know what I had expected but a small, spotty guy who looked anything from fourteen to eighteen. His confident greeting and manner was at total odds to his appearance. He was wearing very expensive trainers and a watch that shouted money. He was blinged up. This was one teenager who had money to burn. He was sharp and worldly and most impressive the moment he opened his mouth.
He had started hacking when he was six years old and had become very good at it. His only real problem was when he was fourteen. He had been rummaging around in NATO headquarters files for a couple of days, when he had a visitation from some very serious looking heavies. He was whisked off to London, his parents were told to keep their noses out and he was questioned almost none stop for well over forty hours. The security services took a very dim view of his hobby. He was then asked to demonstrate how he had accessed NATO files. Next he was invited to hack into a couple of other specified organizations. There were then more days of talks and eventually he was made an offer. He was told that he would not be prosecuted if he agreed to undertake specific hacking projects for the government. He also had to give an under taking that he would not use his skills to steal and he was given a list of organizations that were off limits.
All that had been four years ago. He had left school at sixteen and made a lot of money advising on system security, on odd research jobs and in government tasks. For a young man, he oozed confidence and know how. When we had explained the reason why we needed his services and what we wanted him to do he said that he would charge his “good guys” rate, £1000 for the hack.
He was interested in our set up and the work that we did. His knowledge was amazing for a nineteen year old. We picked up some good suggestions from him about the hardware that we were using.
Kevin left us to get on with the day to day activity of the organization. We were busy. The last twelve months had seen a massive growth in our business. We were building a name for ourselves, nationally, and had even had contact from companies abroad.
I was making a point of concentrating on Sam. I had been self centred and too concerned about what was happening to me for too long. Sam seemed to be a bit happier and I could tell that she was tense waiting to see if she was pregnant. Martin had already become the team’s father figure. Sam had already taken to having little heart to hearts with him. He was a lovely man.
I had got into the habit of soft tops and jeans at work. I wore a bra for comfort all the time and without thinking why, I had got into the habit of wearing a little make up during the day. I could almost convince myself that I was wearing guy’s clothes. Sam wore the same at work. The only change was on the hot days when we wore shorts. After work, if the sun was out we would get naked and top up the tan. The only time we got glammed up in skirts or dresses was when we went out.
It was a good week. Sam and I got back to an even keel and I started to accept the loss of my balls. At the weekend Sam glued me up and I got ready for my walking groups. On the Saturday it was the fortnightly group. We had a nine mile walk through the Hertfordshire countryside. The walk was muddy and the weather mixed. I was glad that I had not worn shorts when the showers fell. The weather subdued the group and it was a little downbeat. I did meet a few new men. One of the guys that I had met the previous time asked if I would like to spend Sunday with him. He was an unappetising specimen, but time was passing and maybe I should not be so fussy.
Another guy was extremely interested in my love life and my background of partners. He suggested that we get together during the week. It was fairly clear what his objective was. There were other approaches but I did not really connect with anyone.
Saturday night and Sam and I got dressed up and went out to our favourite fish restaurant. It was just a comfortable together night. It still seemed a bit odd as we got ready for bed and Sam stripped my dress and lacy lingerie off my while I stripped hers. It was an erotic experience that still felt somehow alien. Those moments when we unconsciously did girly things together felt natural until I remembered who I was. My natural, unthinking behaviour was female. We were only seven months down the road. What would I be like after twelve months?
Sunday morning and Sam helped me glue up. I met with the walking group in deepest Surrey. Dominic was first to greet me with his fussy ways. I was kind of softening towards him, a little, he was good hearted if inept socially. We fell into our normal pattern for the day. I spent time with the recent widower and the twitchy man button holed me afterwards. I looked around the group for targets and thought that a guy who looked about late thirties and reasonable looking might be an option. When I chatted to him, he was very pleasant and good company. The only draw back was that he was a mature student who had decided to go back to university to see if he could get his masters and then, maybe, try for a doctorate. He was interesting and presentable, but penniless. He would not satisfy the wager.
Mike joined me at lunchtime and I kind of gave up my hunt for a target so that I could spend a restful and companionable afternoon with Mike. I had completely ruled him out as a target because I thought he had been cleaned out financially by his wife when she left. I knew he lived in a small house, which I thought was rented, and worked alone in his workshop, renovating old furniture. He was fun and good to know but I did not think he fitted the terms of the wager. I was feeling guilty that I had only five months left and I had not got a target.
Mike asked an awkward question before we parted. Did I have a brother that played rugby, because I reminded him, somehow, of a scrum half that he had played against. The player had stuck in his mind because he was so committed and competitive. He said the guy had a broken nose and an ugly mush but something about me reminded him of that scrum half. I assured Mike that I was an only child but that I had rugby playing cousins.
When I got home Sam was noticeably irritable, but wanted to know every detail of how I had got on. She was eager to see if I had identified a target. She was concerned about the passing of time.
Chapter Twenty Six
Week thirty and we had both bad news and good news. The first blow was that Sam was not pregnant. It had been a long shot, but Sam was still weepy when she knew that it had not worked. The second was contact from Justin. He let us know that he had been having us monitored by people that he employed. He was delighted to see that I had progressed so far to becoming a girly girl. He was sure that Sam must be starting to become disgusted with the person that I was becoming. He was also delighted that I seemed to have made no progress getting myself a man. He was looking forward to winning the bet. He finished by saying that he was pleased that I was already doing all my own feminizing, because I would be able to fit in at the Thai brothel so much faster.
The good news was that Kevin had found some information for us. It would appear that Mr King-Smyth had an interesting pattern of deposits in the account that was not a joint one. It would appear that there were frequent large transfers into that account from an offshore bank. The totals ran into tens of thousands of pounds over the last two years. If we wanted, he was happy to trace the account and find out whose it was and where the money came from. We thanked him and urged him on. Maybe we had some small flickering light at the end of the tunnel.
Late in the week I had a phone call from Mike. His son was singing a solo in the school concert and would I like to come along. If I was happy, we could go for a pizza afterwards. I was very unsure of what to do. I had related very easily with Mike but more as a mate in a bloke and bloke sort of way. I had not attempted to be at all girly with him. It was clear from the invitation that Mike might be seeing me as more than a walking mate. Now I was met with the thought of a man being interested in me and the possibility that I might take him up on it, it brought a whole lot of stuff into focus.
I had been plowing on with the abstract concept that at some point I would have to pretend to be a woman and woo some faceless man. It was theoretical and in the future. I had no difficulty with the abstract. Now there was a guy that I liked who wanted to spend time with me, but not with Tom, he wanted to spend it with Jen. He also wanted to introduce me to the most important person in his life. This was suddenly very real.
I was torn. I talked it through with Sam. Now that I was faced with the prospect of being a woman for a man I liked, I was not sure that I could do it. Sam calmed me down and said to just treat it like going out with a mate, don’t think of it as a date. She reminded me that I had coped with girl’s night out and I had snogged and played with a man’s willy. I reminded her that I had been drunk and it had all just been a game. None of us had taken it seriously, it wasn’t real. In the end Sam persuaded me to go. I was then in confusion as to how to dress and present myself for the evening. In the end I decided to wear a soft blouse over a knee length skirt. I was going for sedate rather than sexy. One and a half inch heels, restrained make up and not too much jewelry. I would look smart but not as if I was on the prowl.
I was nervous before the evening came. I was early at the school and stood like a lemon clutching my handbag outside the school. I had been waiting for about fifteen minutes when I saw Mike with a young boy of about nine or ten. There was no mistaking who were father and son. There was a very strong likeness between them. Mike’s face lit up when he saw me. He came over and introduced a very shy Liam to me. Liam blushed and hung his head but shook my hand in a very serious way and said that he was pleased to meet me because his dad had told him lots about me.
The concert was so sweet and young Liam sang like an angel. It must be the hormones, but I had tears running down my face when Liam sang. After the concert Liam, was much less shy. He was dismissive about his efforts as a singer but was delighted to tell me, at length, about his triumphs playing for the local under ten side at rugby. His father looked on with pride as he recounted some of the tries that he had scored. He asked if I would come and watch him in September when the season started again. After the meal Mike thanked me for coming and took Liam home. Liam shared between staying with Mike and staying with his mum and her new partner. It was a lovely evening. Mike was a good mate and young Liam was a really nice young man.
Sam quizzed me when I got home. She wanted to know whether Mike was a qualifying male as far as the wager went. Even after spending time with him on four occasions I had no idea. I assumed that he would be broke because of the divorce.
Come the weekend it was the monthly walking group on the Saturday. They were a nice crowd and it was a lovely walk but no targets identified. We were getting worried. Time was starting to run out. Sam suggested that I spend Sunday walking with Mike and find out more about him than his rugby playing career. I was a bit reluctant because it seemed like spying on a mate.
When we met up on the Sunday Mike was eager to give me feedback about Liam’s comments. Apparently Liam had been concerned that since the divorce, over four years ago Mike had spent most of his time on his own. The only social contact he had was the walking group. Apparently Liam was delighted that his dad had brought someone to the concert. Liam approved of me, especially my knowledge of rugby.
I spent the day walking with Mike and started to find out much more about him. I was the first woman that he had met in the group, with whom he felt at ease. He had always been shy around women and had found it difficult making conversation. He knew he was not naturally talkative and women found his reticence off putting.
Over the course of the day, I discovered that he had a degree in psychology but that he had never pursued it. Ever since he was a boy he had loved working with wood. Whilst he was at school and later at university he had started going to auctions and buying antique furniture that was somewhat distressed and renovating it. Once he had worked his magic, he put the furniture back into auction. He had managed to get through university with only a small student loan. Since leaving university he had carried on with his renovations. His reputation had grown amongst the dealers and he did a lot of renovations for them. He had a workshop at his home in Richmond.
I was intrigued with his knowledge of antiques, it was a subject about which I knew little. When I asked him what he was working on now, it was a set of Georgean dining chairs. He was going to put them into auction the following week and he invited me to come along and watch. I had never been to an auction so I was intrigued to go and see.
The day sped by and I had not noticed the nine miles that we had walked. Mike told me where to meet him, the following Wednesday at the auction room. When I got home I told Sam all that I had found out about Mike. It was her opinion that Mike was the nearest thing to a prospect that I had found, so I ought to at least give him a whirl. I was not so sure that I could con someone I had become friends with.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Week thirty one, only twenty one short weeks were left after this one. Time had moved so quickly. Kevin arrived at the studio with news about his latest hacking. He had found the account that had been transferring money into Mr King-Smyth’s account. It was held by King-Smyth himself. There had been three large payments into the account from the same account in the last twelve months. There were two payments of £15,000 about nine months ago and a further one of £20,000 just over six months ago. If he looked further back there were other large sums from different accounts. Kevin suggested that the payments might have been bribes to secure the contract for Justin. He was going to trace the account and see if he could get any linkage to Justin. He would go as fast as he could but he was entering territory where he needed to be careful. Some of these offshore banks were very careful about their security.
I fussed over Sam as much as she would let me during the week. She did not want me to glue myself up because in her own words she needed my cock. I found that with the use of half a tablet of Viagra I could keep her happy and smiling. On Wednesday I took the morning off to meet Mike at the auction room. He was standing waiting for me with a big shy smile on his face. I do not know why I did it but when I saw his smile I walked up to him, kissed him on the cheek and gave him a hug. He went red but his smile was wider.
The auction was much more up market than I had expected. Mike bid for a couple of lots, a walnut topped table and a little display cabinet. Both were in what the auctioneer described as a distressed state. Even then, the cost came to well over two hundred pounds. I was left speechless when the chairs that Mike had renovated went for well over a thousand pounds. Mike seemed pleased, no wonder.
I lost him for a while as he got button holed by various dealers. I was very content to look round the lots and saw a lovely enamel broach in the shape and colour of a small blue butterfly. I could not resist buying it for Sam. Mike thought I was buying it for myself but I told him it was for a close and special friend. We went for a late lunch at a pub and I returned home.
Sam was over the moon about her broach and was intrigued by the auction. I had seen that you could buy furniture and jewelry at the auction at a fraction of the price that you paid at retail and the antiques were so much more beautiful than the modern stuff.
Work was going well and Martin’s contacts were paying off. We had two bids in for new contracts. It was now high summer and all the members of the team had taken holidays. All we had taken was our week at the naturist camp. We promised ourselves a few days away the following week. We decided on Cornwall.
The weekend was here again and I was out walking again on the Saturday. It was becoming a bit of a chore and I had not made any worthwhile connections. Saturday night Sam and I went to the theatre. It was good to spend the time talking about the play and just enjoying each other’s company. Viagra and bed and we enjoyed each other’s company some more.
Sunday and I met up with the walking group in Richmond we were walking along the river through Ham then up around Richmond Park. Mike and I walked together and the day was easy relaxed and most enjoyable. Mike and I walked in silence for long periods and chatted freely as well. I can’t actually remember taking Mike’s hand, but during the afternoon we seemed to end up walking hand in hand. It was an odd thing for me to be walking hand in hand with a man but somehow it was companionable.
At the end of the walk Mike said that we were very close to his house and would I like to see his workshop. I jumped at the chance. When we reached his house it was a delightful little detached Victorian cottage. It was small but very pretty. The drive went round the side and into the back garden. Inside, the cottage was small, but filled with beautiful antiques. When we went through his compact kitchen into the back garden and I was surprised by its size. Mike’s workshop was about twenty five feet by about thirty. It was fully equipped and filled with projects that he was working on. When I asked him how much of the stuff was his and how much furniture he was working on for others and he said about 50/50. I was quickly revising my assessment of his net worth financially.
Time passed faster than I had allowed and I was late getting back to Sam for my dinner. She was grumpy that I had not phoned. We had packed for an early start to Cornwall in the morning.
Week thirty two and the journey down was easy. We arrived near Zennor by lunchtime and enjoyed a meal at the Tinners Arms. The next three days were spent visiting galleries, walking the coastal footpaths, wining, dining and making love. With the help of my little blue friends, my status as a gelding did not prevent me from giving and receiving the pleasures of love. I may have been quite diminished, but enthusiasm, largely made up for my reduced physical presence.
We had to get back home so that Sam and I could visit the clinic again on Friday. The visit went smoothly and Sam seemed happy. On Friday night Mike phoned. He would not be going with the walk because Liam was with him for the weekend, but would I like to spend the day with them as they went to the zoo. I was going to decline so that Mike could have Liam to himself. Mike was insistent and the clincher was when he said that Liam had asked him to ask me.
Sam and I had Saturday to ourselves. We did the shopping and then lazed in the garden sunbathing. It was a lovely relaxed day and a lovely cuddly night.
On Sunday I met with Mike and Liam. Both seemed delighted to see me which was nice. Liam was a little star he kept me entertained and his father and me laughing. Gone was the shy little boy. He was delighted when his dad took my hand as we walked. The day was simple and fun. In the late afternoon when we were saying our goodbyes Liam asked in a disappointed voice when I was going to give his father a kiss. When Liam spoke the look on his father’s face was priceless. First there was a look of surprise and then a big grin. It must have been the moment, because I went up to Mike and pulled his face down to mine and gave him a big sloppy kiss full on the lips. Before I knew it his arms were around me and he had me lifted on my tip toes as he hugged me to him and he gave me the most heartfelt kiss. I could not help but respond. He felt strong and smelt good. His cheeks had a very slight stubble and his breath tasted sweet. We broke off and looked each other in the eye for a second or two as if we were searching each other for what this meant. Then we just kissed again. We soon became aware of Liam cheering.
“Daddy’s got a girlfriend, daddy’s got a girlfriend.”
We were both crimson with embarrassment at first but both laughed at our confusing together before we parted.
I was pleased to have time to evaluate my response before I got home. I had felt good kissing Mike. The first kiss was for fun. I’m not sure how I would describe the other two. There was a need in both. I could feel Mike’s need and I felt myself responding. What had I been feeling? I had not thought of myself as a man pretending to be a woman. I had not been thinking about Mike as a man. I had just connected at a very basic level with another human being and I had enjoyed that contact. I had not responded in such a gut butterfly way with anyone other than Sam. I could feel the ground shifting dangerously under my feet.
When I got home I told Sam all about my day and especially the kissing. I told her how uncomfortable it had made me. She said that at least I had hooked a prospect. She was very thoughtful as was I and we did not bother to unglue me that night. We cuddled before we fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Week thirty three and Kevin returned with good news. He had tracked the payments to King-Smyth and found that they came from an account that was held by one of Justin’s companies. We now had something that we could give the police in order to get them to investigate Justin getting the contract through bribing the purchasing manager. We had print outs of the bank statements and details of who owned what account. We knew that we had to be careful because we had obtained the information illegally. We did not want to end up in jail ourselves.
We went to see our retired policeman friend and showed him everything that we had. He was surprised we had obtained as much. It was his belief that there was easily sufficient information to cause the police to carry out their own investigations and come up with a very strong likelihood of a prosecution. We left copies of everything in his hands. He would say that he had been given a tip off from an un named source.
We could do no more for now. It was out of our hands
I had another visit to the doctor that week. He had reduced the testosterone blockers down to virtually nothing. I was now on a lower maintenance level of hormones. Seven and a half months in and I was well ahead of where he had expected me to be. My bust size was not far off a B cup. My body hair patterns were now female. My fat redistribution was now female. Were it not for my chromosomes and my lack of female plumbing, I was starting to become indistinguishable from a genetic female. He expressed satisfaction with my healing after the removal of my testicles.
I had stopped wearing a corset because I now had a proper waist. My weight was now down below ten stone and the expansion of my hips and, to a lesser extent, bum, I was now developing an hour glass figure. If I wanted to I could now show a fair bit of cleavage, given the right choice of bra.
The doctor raised the issue of sexual re assignment surgery. He thought that I would be a very good candidate for the surgery in the near future. After thanking him for his comments, I declined his offer to put me in for early surgery. Things were going too far too fast as they were. I was so used to having boobs now that I no longer thought about them. They were just a fact of life. I was aware when most men talked to me, their eyes kept drifting down to my chest. When Sam and I made love or just cuddled, I was very aware of the pleasure to be gained when she played with my nipples and kneaded and caressed my boobs. I found myself taking a little longer in the shower in the morning while I washed my boobs. My nipples seemed to engorge and stiffen at the slightest provocation. I even found myself thinking about Mike in the shower and my nipples responded with a vengeance.
It was now high summer and work was still going at a manic pace. We were able to pay a big bonus to all our team. Martin was a bit embarrassed about his. He asked if we could put it into a charitable fund instead of paying him. He suggested that we start a charity to help people, from a deprived background, buy books at university. He even agreed to do all the work setting up the charity. We left him to it.
We heard nothing from our policeman friend. He had said that he would get in touch as soon as any progress was made. I worked hard at keeping close to Sam. She was totally at ease with me as Jen now and we chatted about clothes and home and make up as well as books politics and the arts. We were the very closest of girlfriends. We did not go to the lesbian club anymore. Sam had found it uncomfortable. Although Sam was very close to Jen, I felt she was becoming more distant with Tom. It did not bother her if I did not bother to get unglued.
At the end of the week I did not bother with the Saturday walking group. Mike had invited me to go out with him and Liam again on the Saturday. There was a fair on and Liam wanted to go. When I met Mike he hugged me to him and gave me a warm kiss on the lips. It worried me that, firstly, I had been looking forward to it and, secondly, I could feel myself responding with a tingle in my nipples and between my legs. We had a wonderful morning walking along holding hands, we had lunch at a ghastly burger bar to satisfy Liam and spent the rest of the day walking by the river. At six o clock we had to take Liam back to his mum’s. It was an interesting dynamic when we met Liam’s mum. She was a little older than me, shorter by at least five inches and quite pretty. I could feel her hostility towards me like a fire. She had left Mike to be with her lover, so what right did she have to be angry with me.
After leaving Liam we walked for a while arm in arm and then Mike took me in his arms and kissed me with the passion of a man whose hunger had lasted a long time. I could not stop myself responding. I lost myself in the kiss our tongues sought each other out. The kiss went on for ever. When we broke Mike apologized for attacking me. My response was to kiss him. At that moment I was a woman and I wanted that man. I could feel myself falling for this lovely shy sensitive hunk of a man. We kissed a bit more and then walked on in silence.
“Jen, how would you feel if I wanted to spend a lot more time with you? I am a bit ham fisted at this courting lark but I think I am falling for you. I hope you don’t mind. You have told me so little about yourself. I don’t even know anything about your background or who you live with. You could even be married for all I know, but I like being with you and I am sure you will let me in on some of your mysteries when you are ready.”
The only response I could think of was to kiss him again.
When I got home Sam knew instantly that I was troubled. I did not quite know how to describe my feelings to Sam. In the end I told Sam that if I was not already totally in love and committed to her I could easily end up falling for Mike and making a total fool of myself. It was ridiculous. I did not go around looking at men judging their hunkiness. I still tended to look at women. When I was aware of Sam judging a man I was not doing the same thing. I was still a heterosexual male but I found Mike attractive.
Sam questioned whether I was entirely a heterosexual male any more. When I was with her, she said that I naturally used my looks and femininity to get man to do things. She accused me of being as big a flirt as her and the killer was that, before I was Jen, I never noticed her assessing men. She added that now, whenever she had mentioned a hunk and talked about him, I was always aware of who she was talking about.
Sam said that I would have to let things take their course and just hope and pray that it did not come between us.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Week thirty four and we had still heard nothing from our policeman friend. We talked to him on Monday and he said that he would talk to his old colleagues to see what progress had occurred. On Thursday we had a call. He had spoken to the chief inspector friend that he had passed the information to. He in turn had taken it to his boss who had got excited by the prospects of a prosecution. His boss had been in discussions further up the line and everything had gone quiet. These cases take quite a time to go through and I should not worry. He expected to hear something in a week or so.
As the week went on I could sense Sam getting more and more anxious. She was quite snappy to be around. I was worried what I had done wrong.
At the weekend Mike was not seeing Liam so we were on our own. Mike asked if I would go walking with him in Richmond Park and then a meal and a visit to Richmond theatre. It was a lovely afternoon and evening. We walked hand in hand through the day. Every now and again we would take a rest lying in the grass. It seemed that whenever we did, our lips would meet and time would pass. The meal was good and the theatre was fun. After the theatre we sat in Mike’s car and snogged like a couple of school kids.
Mikes hand tentatively wandered to my boobs and I was delighted when he started squeezing caressing and playing with my nipple. If I had been able, I would have been tempted to have sex with him there and then. I loved it. I loved his strength, his gentleness, his need, his smell, his taste. I loved everything about him. When we parted and I went for a taxi I was looking forward to when we could meet and kiss again.
I was not so full in my retelling of all that had happened and how I felt when I got home. I was not sure enough myself. I knew that I had not been Tom for days.
Week thirty five and Sam’s fidgets were getting worse. The days passed and Sam started counting. One day late became two days late became three. I was starting to get excited but I did not want to count any chickens.
We had bad news during the week when our policeman friend told us that the case against Justin and King-Smyth seemed to be going nowhere. Somewhere at a senior level a decision had been made that there was no viable case and that King-Smyth was a model citizen. There was a suspicion that there was a Masonic link that had been called in.
The collapse of our case was depressing but the next event was horrifying.. It was the worst experience of my life. Sam and I took it in turns to pick up bits and pieces from the local shops. It was mid afternoon and I was on my way back home with the shopping, no more that a few hundred yards from the house. A van screeched to a stop beside me and the side door opened. I suddenly found myself being dragged into the van by a couple of huge guys. I was hampered by the shopping bags but I fought as hard as I could. They were strong and I had lost too much muscle. I drew blood from two but all it got me was a barrage of punches that left me bruised a dazed.
I was told that Mr Justin was sending me a message. I had been a naughty boy hacking for information about his business arrangements and taking it to the police. One of the goons ripped my blouse and pulled my bra off.
“Ooh look, she’s already got her own titties.”
With that he started mauling and pinching them, I could just stand the pain.
“Mr Justin is most disappointed in you. He asked us to show you how your life is going to be when you start working in the Thai brothel.”
With that I was held face down while the third cut my jeans down the back and then ripped off my knickers. I felt the man’s huge weight on top of me and then excruciating pain as he thrust his erect dick into my arse. He must have been getting great pleasure from what he was doing because he was as hard as rock when he tore my sphincter muscle open. I was in agony as he thrust and thrust inside me until he came with a massive shudder. With that he roughly withdrew from my arse, slapped my bum and said thank you for a great shag. The second man then thrust inside me. The initial pain was less because I was lubricated by my blood. As he went on the pain continued to build. When he finished, he told me that if I spoke a word to the police then it would be Sam that they picked up next time.
I was crying with anger, pain and frustration. If I could have got free I would have killed him. I was dumped on a deserted street with blood flowing from my rear end. I was in pain and in shock and half naked below the waist. I was bruised and shocked. A passerby called an ambulance and I ended up in the local accident and emergency. I had to explain that I was a pre op transsexual and that I had been raped. I said that I did not want the police involved and they were surprisingly sympathetic.
I was told that my rapist had used a condom so that I was probably safe from infection. They cleaned me up and assured me that the tares would heal and although I had been badly stretched there may well be no long term damage. They had put a couple of stitches in the tare in my rear end. I had plenty of bruising about my face, body and rear end. I called Sam and she was horrified when she saw the state I was in. I waited till we were alone before I explained what had happened. My confidence and self belief were shattered. I felt dirty and soiled. A large part of what was left of Tom, died that afternoon.
Sam took me home and nursed me. I had a long shower, trying to scrub the feeling of dirt off me. I felt small, vulnerable and useless. How could I protect Sam if I could not even look after myself. I was no longer the fearless scrum half who would take on the world.
We had hit a brick wall. Justin or his friend must have been tipped off by someone senior in the police. We could get nowhere with the law. It would appear that the only solution now would me having a love affair with Mike. I was not sure that I could cope mentally, physically and emotionally. I just wanted to hide from it all.
I did not do any work for the rest of the week while Sam tried to nurse my mind back to health. My self confidence had taken a battering. I called Mike and told him that I had been in an accident and that I could not see him at the weekend. I did not want any sexual contact not even with Sam.
As the week went to Sunday, Sam was getting excited. She was late and she was always as regular as clockwork.
Week thirty six and I was starting to come round. I was in a fair bit of discomfort but I went back to work. Cuddles with Sam were a comfort, but the idea of sex was not something I could handle. Sam was getting more and more excited with every passing day. I had stayed glued up for a while now and neither of us commented on it. Mike had been on the phone daily wondering how I was. Sam suggested that I should meet with him at the weekend, but I was not keen.
Sam was spending a lot of time in heart to hearts with Martin. I was getting jealous. Was she telling him things about her feelings that she was not telling me. In the end I could not keep quiet any longer. I told Sam that I was uncomfortable that she was talking to Martin and not me. She gave me a long hard look.
“Yes I have been talking to Martin and it is probably better that I don’t discuss some of it with you for now”
“Share with me Sam, no secrets.”
“Ok, I am now significantly late and I want to be pregnant. I did not want to keep unloading on you about it. Secondly I am extremely jealous of Mike. I hate the way you are obviously falling for him and I’m worried that I am going to lose you to him. The third thing, and the thing I know you do not want to hear is that I have been getting as horny as hell for a while now and I don’t know what to do about it. I am lusting after a hairy smelly man with a big dick with whom I can have uncomplicated basic sex. No holds barred and no strings. Well you asked so there it is.”
“OH. I know I have not been much cop as a male lately.”
“No, for no fault of yours you are much more girl than boy now. You have just gone through a horrible experience and it is not fair to put any pressure on you. I love you to death and I don’t want anyone but you, but I need a good rodgering. I feel that as soon as I know that I am safely pregnant, then I need a stud to see to me. I’m sorry but you asked. That is why I was talking to Martin and not you.”
That certainly left me with something to think about.
I was left feeling somewhat battered and bruised. Sam came back to me and pushed me about Mike. We had less than sixteen weeks left. We had failed with the police, so now I had to go after Mike. I was being pushed towards my fate. I phoned Mike and agreed to spend the afternoon and evening with him on Saturday. He was happy as a sand boy.
Martin asked why we had dropped the police route. When we told him what had happened he muttered about contacts he had made in Europe in his old job.
As the week went on Sam was getting more excited, she was still late. On Friday she took a pregnancy test and came out with the biggest smile I had seen on her face for ages.
“We are pregnant we are going to be mums. Oh Jen, lets drink a toast to the lovely Tom and his sexy sperm. We have done it. We now have an additional reason to stay out of Justin’s hands. We are going to be mums together. I reckon I must be about four weeks pregnant. I thought my breasts were a little sensitive. I was worried that it was my period.”
It was the best possible news amidst all the bad news we had been subject to. We decided to tell no one until Sam was two months pregnant, just in case. We made a first appointment for Sam to get a check up to confirm everything and check that all was OK.
During the week I had one of my monthly sessions with the psychiatrist. To date these sessions had not been a problem. I was obviously becoming a lot more feminine. I dressed in female clothes and presented myself as female. Physically and emotionally, I was becoming more what I had pretended to be. This visit, however, nearly ended with me being violent with her. She could see the bruising when I walked in. I told her about the rape, thinking, that as a skilled professional, she would help me come to terms with it.
I could not believe her line of questioning. She wanted to know how I felt about having sexual relations with a man. How did I feel about being penetrated? Did it make me feel more like a woman? Had I had any sexual pleasure from the event? Was I more inclined to have sex with a man? Did I want to have a vagina so that I could have penetrative sex? I got so mad. I was shouting in her face that she was a stupid and insensitive cow. I made myself walk out before I hit her. I did not think that I would be able to go back to her.
Saturday came and I met Mike for lunch. He was shocked when he saw the bruising on my face and immediately wanted to know what had happened. I told him that I had been attacked by a group of men and had ended in hospital. I admitted that there was a sexual element to the attack and that I was feeling tender, nervous and very unsure of myself. Mike wanted to know who did it and why. He had not pushed me about my background before, calling me the mystery woman. Now he was not holding back. He was angry and he wanted to feel that he could do something to sort my problems out. It was difficult to keep him calm and not tell him too much more.
Mike was gentle with me and gave me space. We held hands as we walked but he did not try to kiss me or hold me. We walked all afternoon and talked. I told him more about my early life and my current fears and feelings than I had in all our previous outings. I admitted that I was very fond of him and attracted to him, but that there were issues in my background that I had to work through before I could be totally open with him. He was so gentle and caring. I felt much more relaxed at the end of the day than I had before I had met him.
Sunday was spent with Sam, just making a fuss of each other.
Chapter Thirty
Week thirty seven and we were down to less than sixteen weeks. I knew that Mike really cared about me and that it was now time to hook him and reel him in. Sam was so into the thought of being a mum, that all her concerns about the ethics of what we intended to do to Mike, seemed to be forgotten. Sam wanted her baby safe with two parents, whatever it took.
Mike asked if I wanted to go with him on Wednesday evening, to watch Harlequins play London Scottish in a pre season friendly. It would be the first game of rugby I had seen since all this started.
When the team had heard about my rape, it turned out that Megan had been sexually assaulted when she was at university. Lucy, one of the freelancers working with us at the studio, also told us that she had been raped four years ago. I wanted to try to make sure that nothing like that happened again, so I got pepper sprays and rape alarms for every one of our girls. I also arranged for a self defence instructor to run weekly sessions on self defence, for all the girls, including me, every Tuesday.
Martin got Sam and I together and said that he had been talking to some of his old contacts. Back in his old job, he had been involved in some investigations into corruption in the EU. The team that he had liaised with had links with the serious fraud office in the UK. He had contacted one of those links and told them about the information that we had discovered. The contact had said that it was an interesting case but that it was much smaller scale than they normally dealt with. Seeing the evidence this contact had said he was amazed that the police had not taken up the case. He was intrigued to find out why. He was going to ask a few questions himself, but he suggested that we contacted the IPCC, the police watch dogs.
What a great suggestion. We knew that we could not go directly to them because we had obtained the information illegally. We decided that Sam would ask our ex policeman friend.
On Wednesday Mike picked me up from home. It was the first time he had seen our set up and the first time he had met Sam. He was very charming with Sam, thinking Sam was my close friend and business partner. Sam was very wary of Mike and I was worried that she might say something that would cause difficulties.
When we set off for the game Mike commented that at least now he knew where the lady of mystery lived and worked. He was very concerned about how I was healing physically and mentally. I played down the damage that I felt. It was great watching a game of rugby with someone who knew what was going on. Being a pre season game, it was very fractured, with players being rotated as the coaches tried different combinations. We discussed the merits of the different players and continued our discussions in the bar after the game.
Mike ran me home and we lingered in the car outside the house. Without thinking about it, I turned and kissed him goodnight. What was intended to be a quick peck became a long passionate clinch. I suddenly needed his strength holding me. I wanted to be protected and looked after. I wanted to give myself to my protector. There was no vestige of Tom in that car, only a Jen that needed a man to hold her close. I felt his hand slide up under my blouse and my nipples were eager for his touch. Our lips parted as he started kissing my neck. My back arched as I wanted to feel his lips on my breast. Suddenly he stopped and I felt a quick emptiness. He apologized for losing control. I kissed him on the lips again and agreed to go out with him and Liam that Sunday.
When I got in the house Sam was waiting. She had watched me from the bedroom window.
“Well you seemed to be enjoying yourself with your hunk. I am surprised you didn’t give him a blow job there and then.”
“Sam please, you know why I am doing this. You know that I have to get close to him.”
“Yes, but you seemed to be enjoying it all too much. All I could see was Jen giving herself to her hunk of a man.”
“You are right, it was Jen and I did not dislike it. With all these female hormones racing round my system, I am finding that I can’t stop myself responding as a woman. This is getting so hard, I am finding it more and more difficult to think of myself as Tom.”
“I’m sorry but I am jealous. When I see you in the arms of a lovely big manly hunk of a man, getting your lips crushed and your tits felt, I am bloody jealous. I want a big man to hold me.”
“Sam, what are we going to do? This is all getting too confusing.”
“Well I know one thing I want us to do and that is to get dolled up on Saturday and go out to a club.”
I could not deny Sam her wish.
Sam and I had our first visit to the doctors. It was a very nice female doctor, who was a little confused why Sam had brought a woman with her as her partner. The doctor tried very hard to look as if everything was normal when we explained the situation. She kept giving me curios glances all through the examination.
Sam was given a thorough check up and the doc agreed that Sam definitely pregnant, probably five weeks gone. Everything looked healthy. We were told that Sam was to have her first full pre natal check in seven weeks time. In the meantime the doctor booked Sam in for a check in three weeks time. We were so pleased that the pregnancy had been confirmed. Sam’s smile was a delight to see.
With the aerobics and the yoga Sam and I were both sylph like and slim. Sam was more curvy than me, but with my additional height, I looked more willowy. I had lost so much weight now that I hovered below ten stone in weight. I had lost so much muscle power that I struggled with any heavy weights. I could lift more than Sam but not by a big margin. With my reduced weight and slimness I had found running to be easy and satisfying. Since the rape, I was nervous of being on my own, but Tim was a keen runner, so I went running in the evening with him. I had to wear a sports bra to hold me firm, otherwise the bouncing of my breasts was painful. When we were running I was very aware of the male population’s appraisals.
Saturday and Sam and I hit the beauty parlour. I could tell Sam was getting excited because she could not stop fidgeting and chatting the whole time. It was no longer a strange feeling, having my hair, nails, a facial and then my make up done. Now that my electrolysis was all but complete, my facial skin was soft and clear. Once we had finished at the parlour Sam dragged me off on a lingerie hunt. We both got the giggles as we looked at more and more outrageous wisps of material. It should have worried me that Sam was not buying for my entertainment, but to entice another male.
When we dressed for the evening Sam again went for a short skirt and a very sheer blouse. Her skimpy bra was on display as were her prize assets. With the thong that she was wearing and the length of her skirt, any bouncy dancing and the cheeks of her bum would be there for all to see. With her all over tan, the sight was certainly alluring.
Sam persuaded me to wear a sexy outfit. With my smaller firm bust I could still get away with going without a bra. My nipples were very much to the fore when I did. Sam’s nagging got me to go along with it and I wore the same dress as I had on the girl’s night out. I no longer needed the gaff as I had been glued up so I wore a thong that disappeared giving me a distinct wedgy.
We got to the club and Sam was bubbling with excitement. She was totally abstemious, not touching a drop of alchohol, but you would have thought she was on speed. We had not been there very long when she picked out a target and gave him a sultry look. In no time she was on the dance floor bouncing around with a happy grin on her face. I lost sight of her when I was dragged onto the floor by a large hunk of a guy myself.
The next time I caught sight of her she was dancing close with the same guy, grinding against him. When I saw her again, they were kissing and his hands were all over her. I was suffering the wandering hands from my partner but not enjoying it as much as Sam obviously was. I lost sight of Sam again until she grabbed me to go to the ladies. When I asked how she was getting on, she said that she had just been dumped by the guy she had been dancing with because she had made it clear that he was not going to shag her tonight or any time in the future. The guy was a sexy hunk but he was determined to get laid. She had been having fun snogging and indulging in a good grind. She might have even given him a blow job if he had played his cards right. I hated that Sam was being mauled by other guys. I hated it more that she seemed to be enjoying it.
I am not sure whether it was more worrying that Sam seemed a bit out of control or more reassuring that she was not totally out of control. After fixing up our make up we were back into the parade ring. In no time Sam had another partner. I kept losing sight of her as my current partner kept me distracted. He had a lovely lithe body and moved it against me in a sexy way. When he nibbled the base of my neck it gave me goose bumps. I was quite enjoying him gently rubbing my nipple before I came to my senses and cooled him down. His erection had been grinding against my stomach and artificial mound. He was the same height as me in my three inch heels and his bump rubbed me quite strategically.
I caught sight of Sam being groped and crushed in a kiss by another large hunk of humanity. Eventually I lost sight of her. I had lost my last partner through cooling him down. I was having a quiet drink by the bar when a large guy almost dragged me onto the dance floor and grabbed me close. He started to grope me and I had the most horrible flashback to being raped in the van.
I tore myself free and ran to the ladies. I was already sobbing when I locked myself in a cubicle. I was never going to come out. I was safe in there. I was there quite a while feeling sorry for myself when I heard Sam’s voice. She called my name and my sobs told her where I was. She persuaded me to unlock the door and hugged me tight. It took a while for me to calm down, before we left the club and went home. I must have looked an absolute sight, my make up was smeared over my face and my eyes were red and puffy from crying.
When we got home I told Sam what had hit me. I had already been on edge seeing Sam dancing and snogging with other men. When that lump of a man hauled me around and groped me I felt the panic and terror of the rape. I had to run away. When I started crying I could not stop. I told Sam that we could not go on. The hormones were stopping. No more women’s clothes. I would have a double mastectomy. No more seeing Mike. No more Sam snogging other men. We would go back to where we were. I would either get a gun and shoot Justin, or run him down with the car. When Justin was dead I would serve my time and I would probably be released before our child was a teenager.
Sam listened to me and soothed me as I spoke. She told me that I was not going to kill anyone and that everything would turn out right in the end. I cried myself to sleep.
On Sunday Sam made me get out of bed and get ready to meet Mike and Liam. We were going to have lunch then go to the tower of London. The two of them had huge grins when we met. I don’t know who was more pleased to see me, Mike or Liam. It was a lovely gentle family day. Liam loved exploring the tower. He shivered with pleasure at the gruesome stories I told him about prisoners and dungeons and all things scary.
After tea we dropped Liam back with his mother and went for a drink. We talked the evening away and Mike dropped me home. I felt so safe with Mike. I wanted to thank him for making me feel safe and normal in this totally abnormal situation. I wanted him to kiss me and hold me but thoughts of being unfaithfull to Sam kept haunting me. In the end I put those thoughts away and melted into Mike’s arms. I am not gay but I loved being held and kissed by Mike. My nipples responded so strongly to his touch. I loved the way he played with them. As he kissed and caressed me, my hand strayed to his crotch. His erection was straining at his trousers and it was substantial. I had a strong urge to undo his fly and play with this lovely toy but a part of my mind was telling me no.
Sam had, again been watching from the bedroom window.
“A nice day Jen?”
“Yes, Liam is such fun. It is going to be great having our own child to treat and take places.”
“Are you feeling better after last night?”
“Yes, sorry I was such a wreck last night, but it all got too much.”
“I need to talk with Tom.”
“Okay.”
“Tom, I know you were upset with me dancing and snogging with other men, but it was something I needed. I love you and if it is anything to do with me, we will be together forever. But and this is a big but there is a fundamental part of me that is very heterosexual. I need the touch of a man. You have been Jen almost all the time recently. Since you were attacked you have hardly spent any time unglued. It is almost as if Tom is hiding from what happened as Jen. I don’t blame you in any way and I love Jen deeply, but I get horny and I just want a man. Last night gave me some release. I know though, that at some stage I might need to go shag a man. I have to be honest with you, the need is getting stronger. If I can’t resist any more, I will tell you. I do not want to have a relationship with anyone, but I do need a man for sex.
I see Jen with Mike and I hurt to see my Jen comfortable in someone else’s arms. I hate it that you can enjoy intimate contact with Mike. I am also jealous that Jen has a male hunk to hold her, kiss her, fondle her breasts and for all I know, let her play with his lovely big cock.”
“I’m sorry Sam, I know this is horrible for you as well as me. I will try to be understanding, but it goes against everything I feel.”
Chapter Thirty One
Week thirty eight and the morning sickness started. I was being woken by the sound of Sam in the loo, throwing up.
“Well the pregnancy is starting to feel real now. Why can’t I be one of those that doesn’t suffer morning sickness.”
Over the last couple of weeks the two of us had read all about pregnancy. We were becoming experts on what was going to happen to Sam. One thing that was happening with a vengeance was Sam’s sex drive. She had become hungrier for sex and much more responsive. Her orgasms were more intense and quicker to come. Any time we were free, Sam was all over me. I started spending my time unglued and although, I needed a good deal of help from the blue pill, I was able to bring her to orgasm after orgasm. My cock however was noticeably reduced in size and stiffness. I had been proudly, above average in size, judging from the shower room after games. I was now definitely under average and each day my manhood seemed to become less manly. I was losing confidence in my ability to perform as a man.
Sam was still hungry for my ministrations. Her boobs and especially her nipples were more sensitive and she loved me playing with her. I caught her time and again idly stroking her own nipple. I was also aware that Sam had a large vibrating dildo that she masturbated with when I was not available. I was enjoying the ride but I was nervous how long this heightened libido would last and how long I could satisfy it.
I had another visit to the doctor. Who quizzed me about when I had started on female hormones. He said that he had been back over my file and everything that happened in the first six months, happened much faster than he would have expected. If I had started on hormones when I said I had, the testicular shrinkage should not have been as fast. My fat redistribution and breast growth should not have been so quick. My prostate had shrunk faster than it should. A further anomaly was that my pelvis appeared to have changed shape a little over the last nine months. I appeared to have gone through female puberty much faster than normal.
He had sent my blood samples for further tests and the research lab had come up with the analysis that I had 48 chromosomes instead of 46 and that my pattern was XYxx. The lab had rarely come across that pattern before. He had been contacted by a research group in Cambridge who wanted to use me as a lab rat. I was, as far as he knew a rare beast. It had occurred to me that everything had been going very fast, but I was so caught up in what was going on that it had not registered that it was unduly fast.
This was no time to become engaged in a lengthy involvement with a research lab. We were already coping with more than was humanly possible. I wondered whether it was the reason why I was so much shorter than my six foot two dad and only two inches taller than my mum. If it had not been for my hair and eye colour matching my dad’s and a facial similarity I would have thought he could not have been my dad.
Sam was intrigued when I told her of the news. She said that I should, at least, get checked out to see if there were any problems that we could anticipate and deal with.
I met with Mike again on Wednesday evening for a drink and a walk. Mike found out that I had started running in the evenings with Tim and asked if he could join us. He was running in the evenings as part of his fitness regime for the rugby. Now that he was thirty four, he was finding fitness harder to maintain. I said that I would check with Tim but Monday night was probably OK. I made sure that Mike dropped me off at the end of the street so that Sam would not see us in our goodnight clinch. As soon as I got home Sam produced the solvent and released me to give her what she needed. I was so aroused by my clinch with Mike that, for once, I did not need the blue pill. It was the first time for quite a while.
We checked with our ex policeman friend to see if there was any progress with his complaint to the IPCC. He had been interviewed at length by a chief inspector but all had gone quiet. Martin said that his contacts in the serious fraud office had also gone quiet, but that he would check with them the following week.
On Saturday I went with Liam and Mike to watch London Scottish play. It was a good afternoon. Liam asked if I would come and see him play on Sunday morning as it was his first session of the season. We had a drink in the bar after the game and then took Liam for a Pizza. After dropping Liam back with his mum Mike and I went for a walk and a drink. There was so little that I did not know now about Mike’s fears and dreams and so little that he knew about mine. I knew that Mike was desperate to take our relationship to another level and it was only his iron restraint that had held him back. He had suggested going back to his place on several occasions now, but I knew that if I went, I would probably weaken and all would be discovered. Mike now proposed a weekend away with him in Paris. I had to stall him. A straight no would be difficult to explain. I claimed the pressure of new contracts and that I would let him know how soon I could be free.
Sunday morning Mike picked me up and we went to watch Liam play. It was a wonderful example of happy, boisterous chaos. There were flashes of cohesion and moments of youthful joy when tackles were made and tries scored. There were tears when tackles hurt and pain came as a surprise. Tears never lasted and cheers echoed. There was as much joy in getting muddy as in making passes. After showers, hot dogs and lemonade we went for lunch at a burger bar. Liam was immensely proud of the three tries that he had scored and the tackles that he had made. He was fast and elusive unlike his dad. The afternoon sped by as we talked and walked in Richmond park.
A last tea and cakes and then I went home. Mike had pressed me about stopping over and again raised the issue about going away together. He must be getting so horny and frustrated.
Sam was eager for us to play and we spent a pleasant evening, cuddling caressing, kissing and making love, but only girl to girl.
Chapter Thirty Two
Week thirty nine and only three months left. We were frantically busy with work. Martin’s contacts had proved a rich seam of opportunities. We were being stretched to our limits with work. Sam and Megan were out visiting clients and researching system requirements, most of the time. Tim, Martin and several of the freelancers worked on keeping existing clients happy whilst Megan and I led a team of freelancers writing new systems. Our business had grown massively in the last year.
I had been thinking about Sam’s needs and, although I hated the idea, I could not deny that my services as a stud were very much diminished. Sam loved the extra dimensions that I could bring to our love making, but I could sense the feeling of frustration with my diminished manhood. I had nothing to complain about because, with my increased sensitivity in my dick and the increase in the areas of pleasure that I possessed, I was getting easily as much pleasure as before. If we indulged in pure lesbian sex, Sam was happy. When the sex became heterosexual, then Sam was clearly less satisfied.
I had to face up to the fact that sooner or later Sam needed sex with a man. I hated the idea but I could not ignore it. I tried to think of a way that Sam could scratch her itch without it endangering our relationship. The idea of Sam picking up a stranger was far too dangerous. Using one of the internet dating sites would expose Sam to needing to share too much information with someone who could then become a problem. I needed to let the problem float in my mind for a while.
Monday evening and Mike joined Tim and I for a run. We covered about five miles through the park and along the street. It was fun. Even though I was the shortest I was the fastest. If I wanted to I could leave the other two trailing behind. I teased them by speeding up and slowing down as we ran. I was glowing at the end and the other two panting away. The weight that I had lost had increased my speed and endurance. The change in my body shape had not slowed me at all.
Mike asked me if I wanted to watch him play the following Saturday. He also passed on a request from Liam to watch him play. I agreed to both. Sam was getting moody about being left on her own so I arranged for us to go to the theatre on Friday evening and out for a meal on the Saturday.
Towards the end of the week we heard from our ex policeman friend. He had been interviewed by the IPCC again. They had been very interested in the source and reliability of the information that we had provided. They had said that the information appeared to be real. They added that there looked as though there was definitely a case that at least should have been investigated. They were going to look to see if there was any good reason why the case had not been investigated. The IPCC team also let slip that they had been contacted by a senior member of the serious fraud investigation team, asking about the same case.
We were delighted that there was hope again that we could escape Justin. We had to wait and that waiting would be difficult.
On the Wednesday I had a call from Cambridge. It was the research lab. Would I be prepared to spend a day with them so that they could do a thorough investigation. I was such a rare case that they had only ever heard of two other cases in the UK. The existence of triple xy cases was not that unusual. My case was strange in that I had developed normally, though I was very late through puberty, I had a high IQ, I had not been infertile, my facial development had been normal. I had not shown any of the symptoms of being xxxy. It would appear that XYxx was a very different syndrome. They pressed very hard for me to come to their lab.
I stalled and discussed it with Sam. She suggested that I spend the day with them. The speed of my changes had surprised and disappointed both Sam and I. We had expected the changes to be much, much slower and easily reversible at the end of the year. We knew we were facing bigger problems and any one who could shed more light was welcome.
I phoned back and agreed to spend a day with them the following week.
Friday night and Sam and I dolled ourselves up. We had the best seats in the stalls and afterwards went for a late supper in the west end. It was a good evening and after we got a taxi home our love making was loving and tender and girl to girl. I was becoming adept at bringing Sam to climax with my tongue and hands. My male equipment was becoming an increasing disappointment to both of us.
Saturday afternoon and there I was on the touchline in my tight jeans, knee length boots, silky blouse and short warm jacket. I had my hair up in a braid and wore my favourite dangly ear rings. I had been nervous that there would be players who would recognise me. No chance, being typical rugby types they talked to my boobs and studied my arse. The game was fun. The quality was not up with the professionals but the enthusiasm was. Mike was a destroyer of a blindside. He relished the tackling and had a wicked grin on his face every time he flattened a member of the opposition. He was big and brutal on the rugby field, a total contrast to the gentle, thoughtful Mike that I knew. He was a champion in turning over opposition ball. He was a human wrecking ball. It was a close game and the lead changed hands several times. As the game was drawing to a close Mike found himself ball in hand going flat out for the line. He went through the opposition full back and centre rather than go round them and scored under the posts. There was only time for the conversion before the final whistle. He was ecstatic when he came off the field.
He went for a shower and I met him later in the club house. He was the hero of the hour. Much ribbing was taking place because it was his first try in three seasons. They were all saying that he had finally recognized what the ball was and what it was for. He normally just concentrated on inflicting pain on the opposition. We ate the obligatory after game meal and Mike started on the beer. His heroics had ensured that he had several beers lined up waiting for him. I had said that I would drive so that he could have a few beers. Over the next few hours there was beer and song and the telling of unlikely tales of derring do on the rugby field. I enjoyed the atmosphere and was jealous of those who had played. I had been twitchy on the touch line seeing opportunities and openings much faster than the home scrum half.
I was amazed by Mike’s capacity to drink beer. He seemed a lot more sober than he should. It was not until we left the club that his state of inebriation became more clear. He was extremely affectionate telling me how much he loved me, how beautiful I was and how much he wanted to marry me and make love to me, not necessarily in that order. We stopped in a quiet spot where we could do some necking on the way home. Mike was all over me. I could tell that his self control was being stretched to the limits. He was pleading for me to go home with him and spend the night.
I could not think how to handle the situation when I realized that I had been undoing his belt. I thought oh what the hell and undid his flies. His large, extremely hard member was standing in all its glory. It was pretty and it was magnificent. I bent down and touched it with my lips as I held it in my hand. The skin was soft and velvety over the iron hardness. I opened my mouth and licked the end pulling the foreskin back to expose his large glans. I soon had my lips around him as he groaned with pleasure I could feel his pressure building quickly and I wanted him to have as much pleasure as possible so I slowed down.
I played with his large balls with my hands as I teased his lovely dick with my mouth. I could taste his pre cum on my tongue as he groaned and moaned with need. I could feel the power that I had over this man as I held his dick in my mouth. I loved the feeling of his urgency. He was holding my head and trying to fuck my mouth. I concentrated on my tongue playing on the under part of the glans. I felt his pressure building in an unstoppable rush and soon he was coming in my mouth . I tried to swallow as fast as my mouth was filling but it overwhelmed me. I swallowed and swallowed but some escaped and dribbled down my chin. I had sucked a cock and enjoyed the power it had given me. I had loved the pleasure that someone that I cared for had got from my actions. I did not care, I was triumphant. Mike just kept saying thank you and I love you. I cleaned myself up and we kissed less urgently and more gently as Mike played with my breasts. I dropped him home and declined his urgent appeals to come in for a very dangerous coffee.
I confessed to Sam what I had done and why. She was eager to know how I found Mike’s dick, how it had felt in my hand and in my mouth. How had I felt when he came in my mouth? How big was it? How was it shaped? Was he circumcised? How did he taste? How did he react when I took him in my mouth? I wondered from her questions whether she wished it had been her.
On Sunday morning I went to watch Liam play. Mike was subdued and full of apologies for his behaviour the previous day. I told him that I had done nothing more than I had wanted to. Liam had started calling me aunt Jen and was determined to show me how good he was at kicking the ball. He kicked it to me and when I tried to catch it, I found that my changed anatomy meant that when I went to pull the ball in to my chest, it hit flesh a moment before I was expecting it. It took several attempts before I could confidently compensate for my changed body shape. Mike looked at me in a strange way when I taught Liam how to do a proper spin pass. Liam played like a demented hare running flat out everywhere. After the game we went and enjoyed a pizza lunch, Liam’s favourite. Mike pressed me again about going for a weekend away. The afternoon was spent with Liam and I returned to Sam in time for dinner.
Chapter Thirty Three
Week forty and time was running out. Sam and I had a review of our situation. I had twelve weeks left to spend three nights with Mike, get engaged and arrange a wedding. I knew that Mike was smitten with me and it would not be hard to egg him on to propose. How I was going to spend three nights with him, without discovery, I had no idea. The old chestnut of claiming that it was my period would never work. Why would I choose that time to finally go to bed with Mike? It would make no sense.
Sam could not come up with any good ideas. Sam’s morning sickness continued much to her annoyance. She was not at all used to feeling unwell, however briefly. Her randiness did not abate in the slightest and I knew that I was not satisfying her, heterosexually. I thought more and more about what she had said about her needs. There had to be some way that we could create a situation that we could both live with until I returned to being Tom, or as near to Tom as I could get. When Mike, Tim and I went running on the Monday, I used the time to mull over the problem and had the seeds of an idea.
On Tuesday I went to meet the Cambridge research team. They measured me, scanned me, tested me, took half my blood for samples, they interviewed me, they got me to do a range of aptitude and intelligence tests. The day was packed. At the end I received some feedback. They were interested in the fact that I had not started puberty until much later than my friends. In primary school, I had been tall for my age. In secondary school I was still one of the tallest until the third form when the other boys shot past me. I was five foot seven by then, about the same height as my mother. I could still sing treble until my fifteenth birthday.
Well after my fifteenth birthday my voice broke and, thankfully, my male appendages grew to a very satisfactory size. I only grew another inch taller and went from being the one of the tallest to being one of the shortest. My muscles and strength developed but I remained wiry rather than a brick shit house. It was unusual to be only one inch taller than mum and six inches shorter than dad.
The only similarity that I had with xxxy people was the late development. Everything else was the reverse. It appeared that my additional two chromosomes were incomplete so that might explain the differences. Whatever the cause, it seemed that my body loved estrogen and responded to it very quickly. It appeared that I had gone through a second puberty, my pelvis had even changed. It was not by a large amount, but it was noticeable. The research team wanted more access to me later.
Back at the studio I took Jackie aside. I knew that during one of her off periods during her on off relationship with Tim she had a short fling with Danny. She had joined a large group of women including Megan, to sample the delights of Danny.
“Jackie, I know this sounds like an intrusive question but I wanted to ask you about Danny.”
Jackie gave me a very suspicious look.
“Ah, the lovely Danny, what do you want to know?”
“Didn’t you have a relationship with him at one time?”
“Well if you could call it that. Danny never has a relationship with any woman. He loves women in general. He has no intention of loving a woman. Many women have tried to hook the sexy Danny, but none have succeeded. Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious.”
“Well if you want to get laid by Danny, you will need to get your plumbing fixed, he is the most heterosexual person that I know.”
“I was only curious.”
“Yeah, a likely story. Well I can tell you that sexually he is the dream man. He is a thoughtful and exciting lover. He enjoys every moment and he makes sure you do. He is a sexy hunk of a man and his equipment is in scale with the rest of him. I only went with him because I was hellish horny and frustrated. I have no regrets. If you want any further references, ask Megan. But remember, he has no intention of committing to anyone.”
Much as I hated the idea, maybe I had the solutions to Sam’s needs.
Although I had by now got totally used to being Jen, there must still be some Tom around. I tended to wear jeans or trousers rather than skirts and dresses. I wore minimal make up unless we were going out. My underwear was selected more for comfort than sexiness, unless I was with Mike. I wore my hair in a plait or a pony tail now that it was longer. I only wore high heels when we were out and possessed only a tiny fraction of the number of dresses and skirts that Sam did. I wore little jewelry and my only silliness was my liking for dangly ear rings.
When we were out Sam was always being hit on by guys. She must exude a special femininity. I got hit on by guys, but nowhere near as often as Sam. What surprised me was that I got hit on by women. I had been hit on by women often enough that I had developed a reliable gaydar. I was much less aware of dishy men than Sam. I suppose I must come across as a lesbian. I was neither fish nor fowl.
We had good news from our policeman friend. In response to questions by the IPCC, the case was being opened again by a different team. An investigation was being started as to why the original case was not pursued. He had also been asked, by the investigation team, if his mysterious contact could get any evidence that would link the money to the award of the contract. We got straight on to Kevin who said he would trawl through King-Smyth’s phone and email records. Things were looking up. In the light of what happened, the last time the case was opened, I tried to make sure that Sam never went anywhere alone.
Thursday was a day of high trauma. I had a desperate call from Mike. His ex wife had walked out on her partner, leaving him a note that she was off to the states with a guy that she had been seeing on the side for some while. Liam was left with her partner. She did not even say goodbye to him. Liam had been dumped with four bin bags of clothes and toys on Mike’s doorstep. There was one extremely distraught child and a very desperate Mike. I agreed to go over and help him. I packed a small bag and set off. When I arrived Liam was in a daze, weeping and Mike was trying to comfort him. When I arrived Liam clung to me. We could not get him to eat or even let go of either of us. He was a destroyed little boy whose world had been ripped apart. He had survived the divorce, but this was a much more bitter blow. His mother had just abandoned him.
I cradled Liam until it was time for bed and then I sat with him until he fell asleep. As soon as I knew he was safely asleep, I then had to cuddle a very upset Mike. I needed to stop over so that I was there when Liam awoke in the morning. Mike only had two bedrooms, so I said that I would sleep on the sofa, Mike said the same. It looked very uncomfortable. In the end we agreed to share the bed on the strict proviso that he did not attempt to have sex with me. I was quite happy with kissing or even letting him play with my breasts, but nothing down below. When we finally went to bed Mike wore pyjama bottoms and I wore a nightdress. It was so strange wearing something in bed for the first time in my adult life. We kissed and cuddled and Mike played with my breasts. I was so turned on. I wished that I had a vagina so that I could satisfy the large erection sticking out of his pyjamas. I even thought about suggesting anal sex to him but just about came to my senses.
We eventually fell asleep with Mike spooning round me. In the morning it took me a moment to realise where I was. It felt snug and warm with Mike’s arms around me, his hand on my breast and his morning bone sticking into my back. This could be dangerous. He might start to try to have sex before he is fully awake. My reaction was to roll round to face Mike and take that solid piece of flesh in my hands. I could feel him waking as I slipped under the bedclothes and started to pull back his foreskin and lick his glans. I was rewarded with a moan of pleasure as I worked on the silkiness of his skin. There was I, Tom, sucking a man’s cock and enjoying the power that I had and the pleasure that I was giving. Eventually I felt him stiffen as he came in a rush into my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could but there was too much and it flowed out of the corner of my mouth. I got out of bed and cleaned myself up before returning to find Mike in bed with a huge smile on his face.
“Morning lover, would you like to come back in here so that I can give you some pleasure in return?”
“Mike, remember your promise.”
“Sorry, but it would be fun.”
“We have Liam to sort out.”
Mike immediately got serious again. We decided that if he was up for it, it would be better to keep Liam’s life as normal as possible. We would see how he was and, if we thought he was OK, we would take him in to school. Liam must have exhausted himself the previous night because he was slow to wake. We asked him if he wanted to go to school. Friday included maths, art and games. They were his three favorite subjects.
We took him in late and after dropping him in class, we had a word with the head teacher. Liam had asked if his aunt Jen would pick him up after school. When we had finished with the head teacher I headed back home. Sam wanted to know every detail. First she wanted to know all about what had happened to Liam. Then she wanted to know where I had slept, what had Mike and I done. Had I had sex with him? Had I been found out? What was he like in bed? She was curious and she was jealous. She was jealous of me with Mike because he was a hunk and she was jealous of Mike because she loved me.
I picked up Liam from school and although he was subdued and clingy, he was better than I expected, tough kid. I cooked him tea and sat with him while he played computer games and watched TV. After putting him to bed I sat and canoodled with Mike until we went to bed, same rules. When I woke in the morning we were cupped together the same and the insistant hardness was digging in again. I used the same solution as the morning before, much to Mike’s delight. The day was spent keeping things as normal as possible for Liam and I spent the night again with Mike with the same outcome. After Rugby on Sunday morning I went back home to Sam. She was one moody cow. She had hated the fact that I had slept with Mike.
I calmed Sam down as much as possible, saying that Liam was a bit more settled and Mike could cope on his own for now. Bad choice of words, “for now”. Sam’s immediate response was to ask me if I was intending to move in with Mike. It took a lot of talking, reminding Sam of the wager, the fact that I was still a man and Mike knew nothing about that. I had to remind Sam that I was the father of our coming child and that I loved her and that I was going nowhere. By the end of Sunday a truce had broken out. It occurred to me that I had satisfied part of the wager. I had spent three nights in Mike’s bed with him.
Chapter Thirty Four
Week forty one and I was picking Liam up from school. Sam was giving him his tea on Monday and Tuesday while Tim, Mike and I went running. On the Tuesday evening we were nearing the end of the run when I sprinted ahead of the other two leaving them well behind. I turned to see how far behind they were and saw a familiar van pulling in along side me. The two huge goons jumped out and the first one grabbed me. Ever since the rape, I had always carried the pepper spray either in my bag or, when out running, on a strap around my wrist. Before the first goon could grab me, I gave him a full blast of pepper spray in the face. As he reeled back I put every bit of strength I had into kicking him in the balls. My anger at the rape put extra force into the kick. He dropped to his knees one hand to his eyes, the other to his balls.
The second goon grabbed me pinning my arms to my side and was about to throw me in the van when we both went flying. Mike had hit the goon with one of his best blind side forward tackles. I was winded and stayed down for a minute. The other two were up in a flash but the goon had a wicked looking knife with which he stabbed Mike in the stomach. Mike went down on one knee then came up and hit the goon with a powerful uppercut. The goon was about to cut Mike again when I managed to spray him. He clutched at his eyes and I launched another kick which just bounced off his leg. Mike was on the floor clutching his stomach but Tim had now arrived.
Fortunately for Tim, the guy in the van called his goons off and they staggered half blind into the van and it sped off. Mike was bleeding badly and I used Tim’s phone to call an ambulance and the police. I took my top off, folded it into a pad and pressed it on the wound. It seemed to take ages for the ambulance to arrive. They just beat the police. Both Mike and Tim were shaking with shock. It had all happened so fast.
I gave Tim instructions to tell Sam what had happened, but not to tell Liam yet. Off to the hospital and Mike was straight through A&E and on his way to the operating theatre. Two hours of anxious waiting and the doctor came to see me.
“He is going to be alright. The wound did not damage any organs and was more superficial than it looked. There was a lot of bleeding though and your swift action compressing the wound saved him from severe blood loss. He is going to have a scar across his stomach but he should be up and around in a couple of days. He will have to take it very easy until the wound heals. I think we will keep him in for a couple of days, then you can take him home.”
The police had already interviewed Tim and me and taken statements. A quick witted member of the public filmed the last bit of the attack, including the van driving away. The goons had picked a spot where there were no cameras, so the telephone film was all there was. The number plate had been checked already and the number belonged to a Nissan Micra. The police had already realized that there was a link between this and the rape case that I had refused to pursue. We alerted the police to the possible link with the alleged bribery case.
All this time I had been walking around with only my running gear less my top. The policeman’s eyes kept drifting down to my sports bra during the interview. Sometimes big nipples are a nuisance.
Sam had been keeping in touch over the phone and keeping Liam amused. I got home as quickly as I could and told Liam that his dad had been hurt whilst saving me from some bad men. He was going to be alright but he had to stay in hospital for one or two nights. Liam looked relieved when I told him that he was staying with me while his dad was in hospital.
As soon as had changed we took Liam in to see his dad. When we got there we found that Mike was coming round after being stitched back together. Liam was very worried but he calmed down when his dad started to perk up. I told Liam what a hero his father was and Mike blushed at my telling of the tale. He was very concerned about Liam but relaxed a little when we told him that Liam would stay with us. Mike looked tired but relieved.
We kept Liam off school the following day so that he could spend time with his dad. Liam spent a chunk of the day in the studio playing on our computers. One little self indulgence, in the studio, was our games set up. We had state of the art gaming kit so that we could play when we were not working. Well if your work is computers, then you might as well take the benefits.
I had been massively troubled by the attack, not for me, but for those around me. When we dropped Liam off to spend time with his dad, Sam and I had a talk.
“Sam, I can’t go on with this. I have a guy who loves me, lying in hospital, thinking that I love him. He has risked his life for me and saved me from being raped or worse. He has enough troubles with looking after his poor kid without me stringing both him and Liam along. I have to be straight with him. If it blows us out of the water, then so be it. I just can’t lie to Mike any more. He will probably want to kill me when he finds out.”
“It’s OK Jen. I thought that you would decide this way. I’m just surprised it took so long. I haven’t been happy with the deception from the start. Mike is a nice guy and he deserves better than to be the butt of a con. The fact that Justin sent his goons after you again, would mean to me that he is worried about the bribery case being opened again. Maybe we can win through that way.”
“How am I going to tell Mike though?”
“Just be absolutely straight. How do you really feel about Mike?”
“Well if I did not have you and if I really was a woman, I think I would have fallen in love with him very deeply.”
“That is not a real answer. Do you love him?”
“Yes. I wish I was two people. Yes I do love him, shit I can do without these complications. I wish that I had a separate me that I could send away with Mike. That me, would be a real woman and would look after him and become a mother to Liam. I could shag the pants off him given half a chance. What a mess. I am so looking forward to being a mum or a dad to our child. As soon as we get Justin off our backs, I want us to just be happy parents together. Why the hell did I agree to this wager? I should have just killed Justin and pleaded mitigation.”
“It is too late now. We are where we are. If you told Mike the truth and he still wanted you, I would understand if you wanted to go with him. I would hate it with all my being, but I would understand. You have become Jen. Tom is still there, but he is now hidden far underneath. This change has been a problem for us both to adapt to. I have found it difficult losing my man and finding him changed into a woman. I love that woman and the remaining vestiges of Tom. I would not have chosen to bear Tom’s child if I did not want to stay with Jen and Tom for the rest of my life. If I am being honest with myself and with you, I can not see Jen being able to return to being Tom. I suspect that this journey is one way.”
“Bugger, I hope you are not right, but I suspect you are. I don’t know how we can make sense of this but I am with you for the long haul. I think I will always have feelings for Mike as well. Bugger and damn. How the hell do we manage this?”
“Just tell Mike the truth and we will have to see how things unfold.”
Once the decision was made, the indecision started. How the hell do you tell someone you love, that you have conned them, that you are a man, that you have no intention of living with them and that you are really deeply in love with another person?
I went to the hospital with Sam. She picked up Liam and took him home and I stayed on to talk with Mike.
“Mike, I have a confession to make to you and I hope that you will not hate me too much when I have finished telling you the truth. I ask two things of you. The first is to believe the truth that I love both you and Liam very deeply. If that were not the case then I would not be telling you the truth. The second is to ask you to hear the whole story before you kill me or throw me out.”
I then went through the whole story, right from my schooldays to now. The look on his face changed from anger to sadness to anguish to concentration to anger to disappointment to determination and changed again and again. I had been crying for most of the telling. It was not till I told the whole story that I realized how much Justin had already wrecked my life. I had not accepted quite how much I had changed, physically and emotionally. I had not realized quite how much my life with Sam had changed and I had not realized quite how much I loved this man. The whole tale took nearly an hour and a half to tell and at the end there was so much that I had left out.
“So you see Mike, I am already married and I love my wife, my lifelong partner and the mother to be, of our child. The bastard of it all is that I also love you and that is why I had to tell you. If I had been a complete woman I would have consummated that love with you weeks ago and a multitude of times since.”
“Well, my mystery lady, that explains so much of the mystery around you. I thought that you might be a confused lesbian and that you could not decide whether to stay with Sam or come with me. I could tell that you loved Sam a lot but I was living in hope. I feared that I would not win. I knew that you were torn. I know that you love me but now I know that love may not be strong enough.”
“Mike you bastard, how can you be so nice when I have told you everything?”
“Because you are a wonderful person and I love you. By the way this does explain why you know so much about rugby and can perform a perfect scrum half pass. I should have recognized it from when I played against you.”
“But how can you be so forgiving, I am a man?”
“No you are not. I think you stopped being a man quite some time ago. Face it you are a lovely feminine woman now, even if all your plumbing has not changed.”
“Mike, would you mind terribly if I kissed you?”
“I would be rather delighted but mind my stitches.”
We clung together in a slow, wonderful soft kiss as the tears streamed down my face. I was now more sexually confused than I had ever been in my life.
“Jen, now I know the truth, will you agree to spend time with Liam and me. He loves you too and it would give him some stability. I promise that I won’t make any demands on you.”
“You big lump of a blind side, I would be delighted. I can’t help it if I love you as well as Sam. I am committed to her but I would like to stay in Liam and your life.”
“You do realise that if we don’t let on that you have told me, you can still win you the wager.”
“God I love you.”
“I do hope so. By the way, I thought that Liam had confirmed my confused lesbian theory when he told me that you and Sam shared a bedroom. Any way there are other more important things. I shall be here for another two days. Can you look after Liam?”
“Of course. You should stop with us for a few days, at least until you have healed enough to look after yourself.”
“Will Sam be OK with that?”
“You saved me from being raped and possibly worse, of course she will. I will be sleeping in Sam’s bed though.”
“Shame.”
I gave Mike a warm loving kiss and cuddle before saying goodbye. I did love this man. When I got home Sam had put Liam to bed.
“Well?”
“The rotten sod broke me up by being horribly understanding and nice. He said that he still loves me despite my extra bits. He said that I am a woman despite them and despite my belief that I am still really male.”
“I’m kind of with him there.”
“I asked him back here to recuperate, when he gets out of hospital, are you ok with that.”
“Seeing as he could have lost his life saving my partner and lover, how could I complain. But while he is here you are sleeping with me, not him.”
“I already told him that.”
“Good.”
“He has suggested that we carry on as if he did not know about the wager. He is quite happy to go ahead with an engagement and to arrange a wedding.”
We got Mike back to our place on the Friday. He was still weak and needed to take things very steadily. On Friday evening we left Mike and Liam together and went to tell both sets of parents about the pregnancy. They were all absolutely overjoyed. There was concern over what would happen if we lost the wager but mostly there was complete joy.
On Sunday I took Liam to his mini rugby session. There was no game, so it was a coaching day. I ended up teaching the young boys and girls how to do a quick, long, scrum half pass and how to draw a man before passing. I had brought my old rugby boots and had worn a track suit. I had unconsciously taken Mike’s role with Liam. Liam was delighted with the skills and popularity of his Aunt Jen. It seemed that several of the dads were also delighted with the display his aunt Jen was giving. It was not until I overheard a lewd comment, that I realized that I had an audience. While Liam was being washed and changed, one of the senior coaches came and asked if I would be prepared to join the coaching team. He said that my presence would encourage the girls to join in. The idea was tempting, I was missing my rugby.
Chapter Thirty Five
Week forty two and Mike was starting to move about carefully. It was obvious that Sam was keeping a close eye on him when he was around me. Mike was also being on his best behaviour. It was rather exciting having two potential mates circling round me.
Mike raised an issue that we had not thought through right at the start. If Mike and I were going to arrange a wedding, we had to apply for a marriage certificate. It was the terms of the wager that a marriage had to have been arranged. That included the certificate. Sam and I were now divorced so that was no problem. I had opened a bank account in the name of Jen with a credit card facility. We had been able to fake papers very easily for that. I had proof of residence and that I was single. What I did not have was a birth certificate or other proof that Jen existed. Panic ensued. How could I have missed this crucial element.
We were racking our brains when Sam finally suggested asking Kevin. As luck would have it Kevin was free. He had just finished another government request. He had not had time to start searching for the extra information that we needed about the bribe but he would get onto it straight away. He asked how permanently we wanted to change my details. When we told him why we wanted the proof of identity, he grinned and said that it was no problem., but could he have a date with me in return. The answer was a friendly no. With Kevin’s assurance that things would be in hand, we left that problem to him.
The Cambridge research team wanted to see me again and said that they had some findings for me and wanted to do further checks. We were on top of the work in the studio so I went up to see them. I was again X rayed, scanned and samples taken. The extra information that they had gleaned had confirmed their findings. I was only one of ten males known worldwide to have my exact make up of chromosomes. Of that ten I was the only one who had been placed on a feminizing hormone regime. As such I was unique. The findings, that they had, showed that my very rapid response to the hormone treatment, the speed with which my testicles atrophied and how the body started to reject them, appeared to be unique. There were clear indications that I had gone through a normal but highly accelerated female puberty. It was clear that my pelvis had changed shape over the nine and a half months on hormones. There was evidence that the change was still occurring at a slowing rate. I now had a noticeably female pelvic bone structure. My breasts were very mature for a person who had only been on hormones for a relatively short period of time. My hair, skin and body fat distribution were now female.
They said that it was clear that my penis had now shrunk more than would have been expected in the time. It was clear that my body wanted to be female. If I stopped taking female hormones the changes would probably cease to develop further, but somehow, my body was producing low level background estrogen. On its own it would probably maintain my feminine body. If I wanted to change back to male, they would advise against it, because it would require a level of testosterone which they believed my body would reject. What they wanted to do was to carry out further research and publish a paper on their results. In return they would monitor my health and ensure that my peculiarities did not endanger my health.
This came as a shock. What they were saying was that whatever happened, I could never successfully go back to being Tom. It made me extremely depressed. I needed to talk to Sam.
“What news from Cambridge?”
“Well they have confirmed that I am a freak. I have apparently started to grow a female pelvis, or, at least, very close to one. I wondered why my running stride had changed and why my hips had ached. They say that it has reached the stage where it is unlikely that I could ever be convincingly male again. They also suspect that my body may react against testosterone if I want to change back. I can’t produce my own any more. I think might I have lost Tom for good and I am worried that I will lose you as a result.”
“To be honest Jen, I think the macho, masculine, male bit of Tom has been gone some time. I think I knew that he was disappearing for good before I decided that I wanted our child. We are going to have to face the fact that our future is as two women. You are still my love and my partner.”
“But you have been getting horny and I know that you are missing a man and that I can no longer fulfill that function like I used to. I struggle to achieve any sort of erection now and what there is, fails to do its job properly.”
“I love the physical love that we have. Remember, when we were at the naturist camp, I taught you how to love me as a girl. I am very happy with that.”
“Sam, I know you need a real man and I have thought about it. I asked the other girls about men. They gave me funny looks, like I was wanting a bit on the side. Anyway, I thought of Danny. He is a woman’s dream in bed apparently and he is a lovely guy. He only ever wants to make a woman happy with uncomplicated sex. He never wants a relationship. I am sure that you could have uncomplicated sex with him with no strings and no ties. I would not like it, but I can live with it. I know you are horny and frustrated.”
“Oh Jen I love you. You are a beautiful person. You know I would never leave you for someone else. I must admit though, in my horniest moments, I have had a few fantasies about Danny. But let’s talk about you for now. You are now Jen far more than you are Tom. You have had conformation of what I have suspected for some time. It will be very difficult and probably impossible, physically, for you to get back to being Tom. Emotionally you are Jen much more than Tom. As Jen you are a lovely person. I think I might love Jen even more than Tom. Jen may not be able to rattle my bones like Tom, but she gives me so many lovely things that Tom could not match. I love Jen and I have tried to help her become a complete person. Do you realise that I have to bully Jen into being girly. Jen wears simple underwear, low heels, little make up, trousers or jeans whenever possible and gets flustered and embarrassed with male attention. I have tried to get Jen to just relax and enjoy being a woman, to enjoy dressing up, feeling sexy and turning men on. There is great fun in being a woman. If Jen would just accept it being Jen, then we could have fun together, being women. I think you would be happier if you accepted that Tom was gone and that your future, our future, is with you as Jen. Accept that you are a girl and enjoy it. Say the word and we will shop and sex up your wardrobe.”
That was one hell of a message to hear from Sam. I had wanted reassurance that I could get back to being Tom and Sam was telling me to go for being Jen fully and happily. I went to our room to think and have a really good look at myself. I stripped naked and looked at myself in the mirror. Facially I was a good looking woman, it was a strong face but definitely feminine. My hair was glossy, full and in a cheeky female style. My shoulders were like a female swimmer’s. I was a little broad, but the shoulders were smooth rather than heavily muscled. My rib cage was short and did not flair out like some men’s did. My boobs were rounded and firm, possibly a little small for my height. I now had a full B cup that needed no padding. My stomach was flat and I had a waist. My hips were noticeably wider now that my attention had been drawn to them and my thighs and bum were trim, but cute and feminine. The cheeks of my bum were no longer concave at the side but beautifully rounded and running in a lovely curve into my thighs. My crutch looked strange with no balls and although my penis was still there, it was very much reduced from its previous size. My legs were shapely and my ankles slim. My hands and feet were a little on the large side, but with the manicured toes and nails, they looked feminine. I was looking at a tall, athletic woman who had a strange looking willy instead of a fanny. I could see no sign of Tom, other than his reduced dick.
Could I just forget being Tom and grasp being a woman with both hands. I had no trouble being a woman for Mike, or being an aunty for Liam. Did I want to be fully a woman?
Kevin rolled up later in the week clutching some paperwork and with a big grin on his face. He asked if I had changed my mind about a date with him now that he had proved himself a genius. He then produced a birth certificate for Jennifer Mary Young born to the same parents on the same day as Thomas George Young. I was now my twin. Kevin said that he had added Jen and not removed Tom. The certificate would be fine as long as I did not break the law. Once I no longer needed the birth certificate he could remove me from the data base.
More good news, Kevin had been able to find emails and texts on King-Smyth’s records that indicated, that the money that had appeared in his account, had been in some way related to the award of the contract. Unfortunately, Kevin had not been able to trace who the emails or texts had come from. We knew who had sent them, but had no proof. I gave Kevin a huge thank you but still no date.
Our new information was passed on to our retired police friend. He informed us that, in the light of his complaint, a superintendant and a chief inspector were under investigation. The alleged bribery case was progressing but very slowly. The investigating officers were still gathering information before interviewing King-Smyth.
By the end of the week, Mike was starting to feel much better and moved back home with Liam. Liam made me promise to go to rugby with him on Sunday, because they had a game against the local rivals.
Friday night and Sam and I went out for a meal. It was a lovely evening and I had worn a dress that was cut low off the shoulder, had spaghetti straps and a fitted bodice that allowed me to dispense with a bra. I wore very girly, sexy, high cut knickers and stockings. I even wore three inch heels and evening sexy make up. I was trying to let Tom go and just enjoy being Jen. We had a lovely evening and, when we returned home, Sam persuaded me not to unglue and we made lesbian love with a passion.
Saturday and Sam took me shopping. More ear rings, dresses, skirts, lingerie, rings, necklaces, jackets, scarves and all things girly. Sam suggested that I go for a week without wearing Jeans, sweats or trousers. I blanched at the money that we had spent
As a result on Sunday I supported Liam wearing a knee length skirt, boots, a silky blouse and a short pea jacket. I wore double drop ear rings and had much more jewelry than usual. The level of attention from the dads was scarily higher. I wondered if I actually liked the attention of the men. I had to admit it did give me a buzz.
Liam was a star, he scored and tackled like a demon. He even passed the ball using a spin pass. He kind of spoilt it a little by turning round to me with a big grin, after the pass, instead of following the play. He was almost as proud as his dad when he was awarded man of the match.
We had a happy lunch and went back to Mike’s place in the afternoon. I spent the afternoon and evening with Liam and Mike. After Liam had gone to bed Mike took me in his arms.
“I know that this can not lead anywhere in the long term but would you mind if I kissed you. I have been very good, whilst I was stopping with you, but I really would like a kiss. Would that be OK?”
I did not answer, but reached up and pulled his face to mine. I owed so much to Mike. I could not deny the stirrings that I felt when I was close to him. He made me feel like Jen. When I was with him, there was no Tom. I could not stop myself kissing him with a passion. There was no artifice, there was no con, this was just pure need. We embraced and Mike’s hands strayed to my girls. I loved his touch and wanted this to go on and on. I think if I had been all woman I could not have stopped myself. I was surprised when I orgasmed, just from him playing with my nipples. I had to come up for air before things got totally out of control. I was in a difficult position. I loved Sam totally, but I lusted after Mike.
When we separated Mike presented me with an exquisite diamond ring. The setting was simple but beautiful. It looked Victorian and Mike confirmed its age when he told me that it was his grandmother’s. I could not help myself, I just burst into happy tears.
Chapter Thirty Six
Week forty three and thankfully Sam’s morning sickness had stopped. Her horniness remained. It was fun, but it was exhausting. I was going to take Sam up on her suggestion that I go for becoming more feminine and wear skirts, dresses and sexier underwear. I was a bit puzzled on Monday morning. What do I choose? I chose a bra that allowed my girls to have their shape, rather than encasing them. My overactive nipples were likely to show everything that I was thinking. My knickers were lacy and high cut. It was still a warm September so I wore a sleeveless green wrap around dress that was just low enough to give a glimpse of my lacy bra. The hem line was a few inches above the knee, so it showed off my tanned legs. I decided to wear two inch strappy sandals instead of my usual trainers. My toe and finger nails were a bold red and my make up had taken much longer than my normal bit of lippy and mascara. It felt good to look good.
When I arrived late in the studio, I was met with whistles and applause. I wasn’t sure whether they were taking the mick. We had a new client who wanted a quote for a system. Sam suggested that I go with Megan to do the research instead of her, so later that morning we were on our client’s premises. It was fun, I made the most of my assets without being too blatant. I did a fair bit of bending over shoulders to see screens. There were a few men walking into partitions and desks while they were studying my butt. If I leant forward when talking to the men, their eyes were drawn to the cleavage and the swell of my breasts. I was even aware of the uncomfortable swelling in the front of a couple of men’s trousers. The power was fun. I did get a few disapproving glances from the women and Megan was having difficulty keeping a straight face.
When we got back to base Megan had great fun telling the tale about my vamping. It wasn’t such a drag being a girl. It could be fun.
The girls in the studio admired my new ring, even though several knew it was a sham engagement. I was still not used to wearing rings on my fingers. For the rest of the week Sam and I competed as to who could look the hottest. I was even forced to shop in order to keep in the game.
Liam spent a couple of evenings with us whilst Mike travelled to auctions. Liam loved spending time with his aunt Sam and his aunt Jen. It meant that he did not have to survive his dad’s cooking and he could play on our state of the art computer games. We heard nothing new on the bribery case but there was news on our latest attack by the goons. The police had checked the footage that the witness provided and then checked the CCTV footage. They had tracked the van over a couple of streets leading in to the attack and a couple of streets on the escape. After that the van had disappeared off the CCTV that they had checked. Either the van remained somewhere close to the attack or they had picked a route that avoided all cameras. That was difficult but not impossible. All likely hiding places for the van had been checked with no success.
Mike, Tim and I had looked at pictures of known villains who were considered to be potential suspects but none of us spotted any of the goons. The police regretfully said that the chances of catching anyone were slim. They did say that they would keep checking known associates of Justin. We were still wary of what Justin might do, but it was unlikely that he would send in the goons again.
Saturday was a lovely sunny autumn day. Sam and I went for a long walk and just nattered away happily. We walked hand in hand and occasionally stopped for a cuddle and a kiss. We were simply happy and enjoying each others company. We had a few stares from men when they saw two hot chicks snogging. When one man, watching us, walked into a tree we burst into fits of giggles.
We ended up sitting in the sun outside a riverside pub, watching the world go by. Sam had me rating all the hunkier men that passed by. We had played this game before but this time I let myself go and really tried to look at them as potential sexual partners. I tried to look at them as if I was a woman and that it was feasible for me to have sex with them. Once I started thinking that way, it became much easier to evaluate the men. It soon became clear that our taste in men differed. It all depended on the question. We decided on four categories and a person could be in up to three categories. The categories were shag, marry, friend or no way.
The ones that tended to get rated shag by Sam tended to be very obviously alpha. They were confident, tended to be muscular and often looked well packaged. My shag choice tended to be more athletic, less pushy, more considerate of others and with nice smiles. Our marry and friend lined up well, but some of my shags were Sam’s no ways and quite a few of Sam’s shags were my no ways. Sam said a thing that brought me up short. It shocked me, but I don’t think I let Sam see my surprise. She said that when I had a fanny and had felt a big strong cock inside me, I might rethink my shags. I had never thought of going anywhere near having the chop and getting my own fanny. Why had Sam thought it was a likelyhood?
Sunday morning we took Liam to play a match. His team got beaten for the first time. The looks of surprise on the faces of his team were comical. They had never considered the possibility of defeat before, it was a good lesson that you can never take victories for granted. I signed up to take the mini rugby coaching course after the game. Mike and I found some time to have a snog while Liam played with his friends. It was nice. My only worry was that Liam had started to tell his friends that I was going to be his new mum. I didn’t want him hurt again after his mother’s rejection.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Week forty four and Sam is going to have her first big check up. When it came it was so thorough. The staggering news was that it was twins. Sam was delighted and I was in shock. The doctor gave her an absolute clean bill of health, saying that she was in as good shape as she had seen. We told our parents the news straight away and they were all as excited as us.
What amused Sam most was that when she was measured, her height was 1.66 metres, a bit over five foot five. When I was measured in Cambridge my height was 1.72 metres. I was less than two and a half inches taller than her, not the three inches that I had claimed. For the next hour, she called me shorty.
We decided that it was time to apply for a marriage licence. Mike put in the application after I had passed over my Jenifer birth certificate and my proof of residence. I did not have to provide proof that I was single because there would be no record of Jen ever marrying. The application was for a marriage to take place in twelve weeks time. All we had to do now was arrange the wedding and invite guests. We had to make it look as if it was a real wedding, where Mike really believed he was getting married. Mike’s father left home when Mike was only six years old and his mother had died ten years ago with breast cancer. Mike had an older brother with a wife and three kids. He was also close to two cousins and their families. There were six from the rugby club that he felt that he had to invite with their partners and he asked an antiques dealer who was an old friend to be the best man. For a small wedding it was getting out of hand, we were up to twenty six guests before my lot was invited.
To make it all seem real I was going to invite my parents and the core team from the studio, plus Sam. Including Mike, Liam and myself we were getting close to forty people. We booked the registrar for eleven weeks the following Saturday. Mike’s friends and family were delighted with the news and Liam was the most excited, that he was going to get a new mum.
In order to keep up the illusion we had to send out formal invites and book a reception. In a couple of days I had got the invites printed and a reception venue booked. When the booking was complete Sam sat me down. She had a sad and serious look on her face.
“I want to talk to both Tom and Jen.”
My heart sunk. Had Sam got tired of the weird she male that I had become? Was she going to leave me?
“Don’t look so scared. I love you and I will never leave you.”
Relief swept over me but Sam still had the same sad serious face.
“Tom, Jen, were you serious when you suggested that I relieve my frustrations with Danny? I can’t stop this feeling of needing a bloody good rodgering by a full blown man. I know it is not fair and I know it is not right, but these bloody hormones are driving me crazy. They should return to normal in a few weeks, but at the moment they are driving me sex mad. If you are unhappy, at all I will grin and bear it. I know it is unfair but I have been getting more and more jealous of Mike.”
Sam sat there clearly unhappy and nervous. I felt a cold dread in my stomach. Was this the beginning of the end for us? I think I understood how Sam felt, but how could I really know? I had to trust Sam and hope. I knew that I could not be a proper Tom for her any more. I had to let go and trust. Sam was studying my face for a reaction.
“I can’t say that I am eager for this to happen, but I think I understand and I trust you.”
Sam burst into tears and we hugged and held each other tight for an age. We had decided to cross a frontier that put our relationship into a scary place.
Later that afternoon I sat and had a quiet time to myself in the garden. The autumn sun still had some warmth. Because of the stupid wager, that we had entered into a year before, I had lost so much. A year ago I was the rough tough husband of a beautiful and sexy wife who loved me to bits. We had a sex life that was intense and lusty. I was a star rugby player in the club. I had a host of friends and a successful business. I was one very happy, very male, man.
Now where was I? I was much more a woman than a man. I had got used to being female. I even found myself thinking like a woman almost all the time. I was emotional and prone to bursting into tears. I was actually comfortable as a woman. I had lost my happy sex life with my wife and it had been replaced by something lovely, more tender, less lusty, but differently satisfying. I missed the raw heterosexual sex. I had got used to this body and the pleasure I could get from my boobs. I enjoyed the power that I had over men. I had lost something precious with Sam and now I was risking losing Sam altogether. What if having sex with Danny gave her a taste for new pastures?
I had a very confusing relationship with a man who I felt deeply about. I reacted like a woman around him. With him I was a heterosexual woman. With Sam I was a heterosexual male and a homosexual woman. God, was I screwed up? I wondered whether I would ever be able to go back to being good old Tom. I knew that it would be difficult physically now and the end result would be a shadow of Tom. I was not sure whether I could go back fully to being Tom mentally now. Jen was a real person and I knew that she would never disappear fully now.
I had lost friends, or people who I had thought of as friends. I had lost my games of rugby. I had lost my reputation as an OK guy. I had lost my belief in myself as a man. I knew that I was still a strong person, despite the rape, but I did not see myself as a strong man any more.
A further problem was Mike and Liam. A small boy, who had suffered too much already, was going to get his hopes for a new mum dashed. I had no idea what to do about Mike. I had led him on and conned him into falling for me. I had also fallen for him even though I am really a heterosexual male. What do I do about him when this whole wager is over?
Let’s face it, win or lose, Justin had screwed my life and Sam’s life. Sam and I had lost something precious, whatever happened. There was also going to be collateral damage to other innocent people, especially Liam. So much had happened over the last year that had wrecked that lovely, safe, cosy life that we had had. I could feel tears of sadness welling up. God I hated being so girly.
I knew that I had to support Sam, because I knew that she was very nervous about what she was going to do.
The following day Sam told me that she had contacted Danny and discussed her proposition to him. She had told him that she wanted a night of no holds barred sex with him as a once off event. There was to be no inference that Sam wanted a relationship, she just wanted a night of sex. Danny had taken it all in his stride and had seen nothing strange in the request. My heart sunk when I knew it was really going to happen. I felt another piece of Tom slip away.
Better news from the police front. They had called King-Smyth in to be interviewed. The outcome was, that he claimed the payments into his secret account were for advice that he had given a major international company about their tender for a large NHS contract. Because of a confidentiality agreement he could not disclose who the company was. He admitted that he had not declared the income, but that he fully intended to declare it in his on line self assessment for the tax year ending last April. His explanation of the money and the communications was clearly a load of rubbish, but the police felt that they needed more evidence before they felt that they would have a good chance of a conviction. They were fairly confident that the evidence could be obtained, though it would take time. King-Smyth had been suspended by the trust pending a disciplinary hearing, which, we understood, would not take place until the police investigation was complete. It was a shame that Kevin had been unable to tie Justin to the payments.
Sam and I were less worried now because we felt that we had met the terms of the wager in full. All we had to do was to keep up the illusion for another seven and a half weeks.
On Friday we contacted our lawyers to talk about the possibility of raising a civil case against King-Smyth. Our case would be to sue him for damages arising from the loss of a contract as a result of him accepting a bribe. The case would be judged on the much less rigorous standard of the balance of probabilities, rather than it having to be proven beyond all reasonable doubt. Our lawyers wanted a couple of days to think it through. Since Sam’s announcement that she was going to spend a night with Danny, I knew that I had been very clingy. I kept needing hugs and kisses from Sam and I wanted to be close to her all the time. Saturday was spent with Sam making love as two women. I knew that Sam was shortly going to be with Danny and I did not want to become a basis for comparison. My confidence in my ability to make love as a man was almost non existant.
On Sunday morning it was mini rugby as usual and an afternoon spent pleasantly with Mike and Liam. When I got back home Sam was getting herself ready for her night with Danny. She had taken care in her preparations and looked sexy as hell in her hottest lingerie. Her clothes and make up left no doubt about what her intentions were. At eight in the evening I said goodbye to a Sam. It was clear that just the very idea of what she was going to do made her both excited and aroused. I tried not to let my feelings show as I said my goodbyes. As soon as the door closed I just sat and wept. I was no longer a man who could satisfy my Sam in every way. I was a cuckold.
That night was hell in my lonely bed thinking of Sam and Danny. Eventually, well gone midnight, I cried myself to sleep.
Chapter Thirty Eight
The start of week forty five and I awoke with Sam snuggling up close to me. It was so normal that it took me a moment to remember where Sam had been the night before. Sam had a lovely smile on her face and cuddled so closely. I knew that if Sam and I did not appear in the studio, Megan would open up and get things going without us.
When Sam finally woke she gave me a long loving kiss.
“Thank you Tom, thank you Jen, if I did not know before, I know now, that I love you more than anything or anyone in the world.”
“I did not expect to find you in bed with me this morning. I thought you were spending the night with Danny. What happened?”
“I went to Danny’s place and when I got there I was so hungry for sex with him. I almost attacked him and we were soon naked in bed. The feel of his strong body, the smell of him and his lovely cock were all that I wanted at that moment. It was wonderful, feeling the strength of him entering me and that first bout of love making was extremely physical and satisfying. I felt so alive and my orgasms came and came. We were both exhausted at the end. We had not kissed or cuddled before our sex and we did not kiss or cuddle afterwards. I just lay there waiting for Danny to be ready to go again. I gave his dick every encouragement to go again. As soon as he was ready I mounted him and rode him with a vengeance. I came again several times and the silly thing was that I was thinking of you all the time. When we had exhausted ourselves a second time I still avoided kissing Danny. The most ridiculous thing was that I had an overwhelming desire for a cup of tea. I went and made one for each of us and the two of us sat naked with me fondling Danny’s cock in the hope that I could get it to perform again. Eventually he started to rise again and the moment that he was ready I pulled him into me. The third time was a bit of a let down after the first two. I even started to feel a little bored by the time Danny came for the third time.
As soon as we started the third time I knew that I just wanted to get home to you. When Danny had finished I got up and had a shower. Danny was somewhat confused by the whole thing. He said that he had thoroughly enjoyed the sex with me and that the sex had been awesome. Any time I wanted a rerun he was ready. He added that it was the strangest sexual experience that he had ever had. It was the first time that he felt that he had been used purely as a sex object. If that was how women felt after a man had gone wham bam thank you mam, they had all his sympathy. Despite feeling used he was happy to repeat the experience.
When I got home you were sound asleep. I could tell you had been crying. I managed to snuggle up to you without waking you. I was so glad to be back in our own bed with you.
I make no bones that I really did need a good fucking and thank Danny for that, but this is where I belong. I just hope that you can live with what I have done. I love you more than I can possibly describe, but I did need that. I feel that the itch has well and truly gone. Can you forgive me and let us be lovers?”
I had tears in my eyes again as we kissed. The rest of the morning was spent in each others arms as we made lesbian love to each other. Sam made me come time and again. At lunch time we crawled out of bed showered and got dressed. I hated that I had not been man enough for Sam but I knew that she loved me.
We started to get responses to the wedding invitations and, so far, we had not had a refusal. Less than half the prospective guests knew that the wedding would not take place. Just over six weeks and they would know the truth.
Mike had healed enough to start doing a little jogging. He was a fair way away from being ready to play rugby again, but it was a start and he was much happier. When I was close to Mike I still felt a buzz and when he held me my heart rate went up. I could not deny to myself that there was a sexual attraction. I avoided giving him opportunities to get too heavy but I found that I easily responded when he kissed me. What the hell was I thinking about? I was a married man and I loved my wife. In no way was I gay, except maybe with Sam.
Our lawyers came back to us with the opinion that we had a winnable case against King-Smyth but unless we could show that Justin had been the person who paid the bribe, we were still hung out to dry on the wager. We could, probably, successfully sue King-Smyth for our losses, but there is no way he would have sufficient funds to cover our loss. We would still be in Justin’s grip. We would have to show that Justin illegally influenced the awarding of the contract if we were going to invalidate the wager. We weren’t too worried by the lawyer’s verdict because we were confident that we could now demonstrate that I had met the terms of the wager.
We heard from our ex policeman friend that after more interviews, King-Smyth had been charged with accepting bribes under the 2010 Bribery Act and also with Tax Fraud. Both offences could result in a maximum ten year sentence. He had gone before a magistrate and been released on bail. The case was scheduled to be heard in nine weeks time. It was good to know that he was going to trial. The trial would be too late to invalidate the wager, but that was no longer a problem.
Sam and I were much more relaxed now than at any time in the last eleven months. We were confident that we were out from under Justin.
Come the weekend I spent a happy Saturday with Sam and Sunday with Mike and Liam.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Week forty six and we decided to confront Justin and show that we had met the terms of the wager. He agreed to meet us on the Tuesday. When we got to his offices he met us, flanked by two large goons and attended by two lawyers. When we arrived he was worryingly cheerful. We were searched for any recording equipment or mikes while Justin looked on smiling. The insults and the baiting started straight away.
“Ah, Tom and Sam, so nice to see you. Oh silly me, of course it is Jenifer and Sam now. What is it like being married to a girly eunuch Sam? It must be frustrating being married to someone who used to be a man. How is he now his balls have gone? Is it fun seeing him with tits and frilly knickers? How do you feel about him being groped by a hunky man? I know he was loving it, I could tell from the videos. I suppose that was why you had to go and be shagged by your lovely Danny. You have finally seen what a girly wimp he is and found fun with a proper man. How does it feel knowing that your husband loves having his tits felt by a man and snogging with tongues? I could tell he was enjoying it, his girly nipples stood out like organ stops. He certainly loves getting his tits out for the boys. You know I always had my suspicions that he was a secret cock sucker, now I have it all on tape. It certainly sounded as though you were enjoying it. How many cocks have you sucked now Tom? It certainly is going to make your training in Thailand easier. I can see that you are going to be a hit as a ladyboy tart, especially as you seem to enjoy it so much. Did you enjoy being fucked by those men in the van? You are going to have lots more of that when I ship you off to Thailand. Well Sam, now you have seen what a slut your Tom is, you can come to me to find what a real man is like.”
“OK Justin you have had your fun. You know that we have met the criteria of the wager. I am engaged to a heterosexual male who has a substantial net worth and the wedding is already arranged. The licence has been obtained, the registrar booked and the reception arranged. I have spent three nights in the same bed as my fiancé. The terms have been met.”
“Oh my dear sweet little girly boy, you are forgetting one fundamental term of the wager. Your husband to be must be in ignorance of the wager. I’m afraid you have blown it, unless you can come up with a new fiancé in the next five weeks. Isn’t it fun, in under forty days I will be sending you to enjoy having the arse shagged off you in my brothel. The lovely Sam will stay with me. She can have her babies and then, I think, that whilst she becomes mine, I can get the brats trained up to work in one of my establishments as soon as they are not quite old enough. You stupid people, I know you kept checking that your home wasn’t bugged but you did not check your cars or Mike’s car. You did not check Mike’s home for listening devices and cameras. I have had the pair of you under surveillance ever since the wager started. I have recordings of you talking about the terms of the wager to Mike in the car and in the hospital room. I have film of you and Mike in your garden talking about your plans. The directional mike picked up everything clearly. Let me show you some selected footage and hear some of the recordings. Now you stupid children, you have a few weeks of freedom left before your fates are sealed. Enjoy them.”
We were in severe shock when we left. We had forty one days to find a way out. What were our options? We needed to talk with our lawyers as soon as we could.
When we met with them we ran through the possible routes we could take. The first was to challenge the basis of the wager in court. We would need to do that quickly, but the legal advice was that we would lose very quickly. The second option was to put the company in receivership. The legal advice there was that Justin would very easily be able to retrieve it from the receivers. A third option would be to tell HMRC that we had breached tax laws and that our company and assets should be seized until a full investigation was made. This was ruled out because we were too clearly not in breach. The lawyers asked for time to think up some answer to our problem.
Unless we could tie Justin in to the case against King-Smyth, that was a dead end. We were running out of options.
I had the unenviable task of telling Mike that the last months had been in vain. Justin had proof that he was aware of the wager. We had no option but to get in touch with everyone to say that there would be no wedding. Mike had to explain to a lot of bemused people what had been going on. The biggest casualty was one broken hearted little boy who had been looking forward to his aunt Jen becoming his new mum. There was no way, that I could explain it, that made sense to him. He just knew that he had been betrayed and let down again by a woman. His world was one unhappy mess yet again. It was not surprising that he did not want me to go to rugby with him.
I got hold of Kevin to see if there was any way he could find proof of Justin affecting the awarding of the trust contract. He said that he would dig further, but he was not optimistic. The other task that he undertook was to remove the fictitious record of Jenifer Mary Young. There was no point in risking prosecution over that now.
We were desperate. I thought that the idea of killing Justin was looking like being the only answer. If the police could get King-Smyth to admit that he had accepted a bribe in order to award the contract, then we would be in the clear. From what we had heard so far it was extremely unlikely to happen. The man was out on bail, so, in theory, we could get some heavies to scare him into a confession. Sam vetoed that option. On Saturday the lawyers came back with a suggestion. Sam and I could sue each other for damages over entering into a stupid wager. We could then ask the court to hold our assets until such time as the case was decided. It would only be a delaying tactic but it could give enough time for the case against King-Smyth to be decided.
I mulled over the options and kept coming back to the idea of murder. When I was at school I was a member of the cadet corps, for a while. I had been on the cadets shooting team and I knew how to fire a pistol and a rifle. I had also used a shot gun several times, shooting clays. I knew that I was an accurate shot. I needed to find out Justin’s movements, so that I could plan an opportunity. I also needed to get some kind of firearm. The first part was relatively easy. I had no idea how to achieve the second part.
At the weekend I told Sam that I was going to try and map Justin’s movements to see if I could find some leverage. I had no plans to let her know about my idea of murdering Justin. I knew where Justin lived, so on the Sunday, I started my stake out of his home. I parked some distance from his house, using our little run about. The windows are tinted so it is not too easy to see in. I sat in the back and hunkered down. I watched the comings and goings all day. Justin never left his home but there were visits by various people. Some were tarty looking females, some were heavies and I wished that I had brought a camera, because one was King-Smyth.
Chapter Forty
Week forty seven and there were only just over forty days left. I continued my surveillance of Justin and Sam worked with the lawyers to put together a case, where we sued each other for damages. It had to be believable enough to convince the court to control our assets until the matter was resolved.
I found that Justin had a fairly repetitive behaviour pattern. He was driven to his office every morning, leaving the house at nine. He always had a driver and what looked like a second bodyguard. The guards got out of the car before him and saw him into the building. Most days he had lunch, watched by his two guards, at a local Thai restaurant. Sometimes he would have a business guest with him for lunch. One day it was the chief inspector, who had been given the bribery case to look into in the first place. He was one of the police now under investigation. When I saw that, I decided to get a camera with a telephoto lense and photograph every visitor that Justin had. When Justin left his office, he went to the Kit Kat club, escorted by his two guards. He left the club at any time from nine in the evening to midnight. He generally left with a girl, never the same twice. On Saturday he went to watch Chelsea, arriving early and leaving late, so I assumed he must have a box. Sunday was spent at his home with the same comings and goings. I had watched him for a week and realized that it was unlikely that I would ever get him alone. My best chance would be when he was getting out of his car at the office.
All week I had been looking on the web for a way to get a gun. There seemed to be a number of options. One option was to buy a blank firing pistol, mail order, from the states, but I had no idea how to convert it and I would still need bullets. A second option was to trawl certain pubs in the shadier parts of London. A third option was to steal a gun from a gun club. A fourth option was to try to get hold of the shotgun of an acquaintance or friend. The fifth option was to find a contact who could supply.
The last option seemed the most likely. The only two people that I knew that had access to the shadier parts of society were one of Mike’s antique dealer friends and Kevin. Kevin was my first port of call. His reaction was that I was taking the piss. It took me a long time to convince him I was serious. I made him swear to tell no one, especially Sam. He finally took me seriously and said that he would see what he could do. It was ridiculous, Kevin was only just nineteen and he was the most connected person that I knew.
Week forty eight and less than thirty five days left. I continued my surveillance of Justin. His pattern was just the same. I had a meeting with Mike’s dodgy antique dealer and he was very cagey. He said that he might be able to give me the name of a contact. The following day I was told to go to a pub in Peckham and I would be met there. That evening I went to the pub at nine o clock as instructed. I was very, very nervous. I bought myself a drink and was approached by a very seedy looking young man who told me that my needs could be met. I would have to bring a thousand pounds as a good will gesture to another pub and hand it over to a contact there. If that went without a hitch I would be given further instructions and for a further fifteen hundred pounds I would be supplied with the required merchandise. The first meet was for Thursday night in a pub at the elephant and castle.
Thursday night and I was there with a thousand pounds in an envelope. I was approached by a guy who could have been no more than nineteen. I was told that I would be texted with the location and time for the delivery of the merchandise. All this time Sam had been quizzing me as to what I was up to. I had remained tight lipped.
On Friday morning I received a text, telling me to bring the fifteen hundred pounds, for a meet in the car park behind a different pub in Peckham. I drove there and parked in the car park. I was early, so I sat in the car and waited. Several other cars arrived after me and the occupants got out of all but two of them and went into the pub. One of the two cars that still had people in them had followed me into the car park. The other had arrived ten minutes after me. It was dark and the car park was poorly lit. I was extremely nervous.
The second car flashed its lights at me and two scrawny looking youngsters got out and beckoned towards me. I made sure that I had the pepper spray to hand just in case. Feeling extremely nervous, I got out and walked towards the two young men. They wore hoodies and baseball caps. I couldn’t see their faces.
“Have you got the money girly?”
“Have you got the merchandise?”
“Let us see the money first.”
“After you show me the merchandise.”
“Don’t be such a silly cow, give us the money.”
With that he drew a wicked looking knife from his sleeve and stepped toward me. I reacted instantly spraying his face. I was about to turn on his companion when he crashed to the ground under a large aggressive male. It was only when the youth was picked up and repeatedly punched that I realized that my companion was Mike. Whilst Mike punched his youth I kicked mine. They were soon, both curled up on the floor pleading with us to stop. I told them that they could go when they had handed over the gun. It was then that it was clear that they didn’t have a gun. They had never had a gun. They just wanted to scam me for money. It had seemed an easy touch. We searched them and their car. We found drugs and knives but no gun.
We gave each of our two yobs one last kick and left them.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Sam knew you were up to something but did not know what. She asked me to keep an eye on you and I have been tailing you for the last few days.”
“Were you at the pub last night?”
“Yes, I kept an eye out just to make sure you were safe. I knew you were up to something shady, but I never thought you were after a gun. You can borrow my shotgun if you want. I picked up a pair from a client ages ago at a knock down price.”
“Do you have a licence for them?”
“Of course.”
“Then there is no way I could use one. You would immediately become an accessory and would go to jail. There is no way that I would let you ruin your life and Liam’s any more. I have caused the pair of you more than enough damage already.”
We drove our separate ways back home. Liam was asleep in one of the spare rooms. Sam quizzed me over what I had been up to and I had to admit what I had done. It took a while for her anger to abate at my stupidity. Eventually she tired of berating me. Mike stopped over in one of the other spare rooms. Sam was still mad at me when we went to bed but I did get a cuddle and we did kiss and make up in the morning.
Sam and I spent Saturday with Mike, trying to think up options. I secretly thought that my solution of murdering Justin was still the only way. I knew that in my current state, prison would be very unpleasant, but I could see no other way out.
Mike came up with a brilliant idea that could save one of us. One of us could sack the other for gross misconduct. In that way we could legitimately end one employment contract. The sacked person would still be a director and owner but not an employee. I refused to leave Sam at Justin’s mercy so it had to be Sam that got sacked. We argued about it all day but in the end Sam realized that it would either be her that was saved or neither of us. Once Sam capitulated we went to look at the company’s disciplinary procedures. There were very few descriptions of gross misconduct listed. The most obvious was theft, but Sam could not steel what she already owned.
In the end we decided on the rule that wanton and deliberate destruction of valuable company property was gross misconduct. We then filmed Sam taking a sledge hammer to one of our valuable computers. We carefully backed everything up first. As soon as the deed was done I gave Sam a letter asking her to attend a disciplinary hearing on the Monday morning. In keeping with the terms of the disciplinary hearing, I invited Sam to bring representation with her to the meeting. She chose to bring our lawyer with her.
Chapter Forty One
Week forty nine and Sam briefed our lawyer before the disciplinary hearing as to what we were aiming to do. Our lawyer was delighted. She thought it was a brilliant solution for one of us to escape, she then went through what we had to do in the hearing to make sure it was legally watertight. The hearing was fun. We filmed and recorded the whole thing. It was one hell of a job keeping a straight face. In the end I dismissed Sam and informed her of her right to appeal my decision. The right of appeal was to the director who had not heard the disciplinary case, i.e. Sam, or to a third part selected by agreement between the directors and the dismissed person. We decided between us that the appeal be heard by our lawyer. Sam wrote asking for the appeal to be heard at the earliest opportunity, so we heard the appeal there and then. Our lawyer then duly turned down the appeal and I wrote a letter to Sam confirming the dismissal. It was brilliant. Neither of us could have resigned without the lengthy notice but the dismissal was instant. Sam was free.
I went back to watching Justin’s movements in the hope that I could find a chink. I still had the outside hope that Kevin could put me in touch with someone who could supply a gun. Justin’s movements were almost predictable. He was a creature of habit. If I could get a gun, I knew I would get a chance to kill him.
News from the police front was frustrating. The case against King-Smyth was strong, but the trial was still more than three months away. The defence lawyers had asked for and been given, more time to prepare their defence.
On the Thursday, I had a cryptic message from Kevin, he asked to meet. When we got together he told me that a contact of a contact of a contact had some interesting kit that was worth my investigation. He gave me a phone number and a code to give the person who answered. I phoned the number and gave the code. I was told to bring two thousand pounds cash to a car park in Croydon the following Tuesday. I had to be alone and sit in my car for half an hour before I would be approached.
At last I thought that this would be the answer to my prayers. I went back to my surveillance. I had decided that I would shoot Kevin as he went from his car to his office. I purchased a moped that was small enough to get through gaps in traffic and the narrow ally ways. I then searched out a route, to and from Justin’s office, that used as many narrow alleys, that a car could not navigate, as possible. I also looked for CCTV coverage. I wanted to find a way in and out where I could not be tracked. It took a lot of foot work, but I worked out a route.
I thought long and hard about whether I could kill a man. When I took into account what he had done to Sam, Liam, Mike and me, it was not a hard decision. I knew I could do it. Would I be able to survive in jail afterwards if I was caught? Well that was a different story. Time would tell. I had no choice. I was a dead man walking if I could not stop Justin.
My time with Sam was lovely. We still occasionally tried to made love as man and women, but it was getting almost impossible to sustain an erection Although Sam was very loving, I could tell that it was not an enjoyable experience for her. Our lesbian love making was becoming more skilled and more passionate and it was Sam’s preference, now. Sam’s horniness had subsided a little but her breasts were still very sensitive. There was now a noticeable bump. The twins were making their presence seen as well as felt. Sam had started wearing looser clothing to accommodate the bump.
Mike and Liam spent a lot of time with us. Liam had forgiven me a little for letting him down. He got on well with Sam and liked to take her on at computer games. I was delighted when I received an invitation from Liam to go to rugby with him again. Mike had healed enough now, to start full training. One more week and he would be playing again. It was strange having both Sam and Mike around so much of the time. Mike was very good and tried to take no liberties in front of Sam. He did occasionally pat my bum and, at other times, gave me a peck on the lips. Whenever I was close to him, I was very aware of him, his smell, his breath, his presence, and my heart rate would rise. I am a guy for god’s sake. I am heterosexual, I can’t get excited by a man. I am a happily married man. After careful thought, I believed, that it would be fairest to all concerned, if I ended all contact with Mike and Liam. I had to let them rebuild their lives. I would act as soon as I had finished with Justin.
On Sunday morning I helped coach the mini rugby and watched Liam play. Mike watched the game with his arm round me. I didn’t stop him. Liam scored a classy try and Mike swept me round and planted a big kiss on my lips. My mind screamed in protest that it should not be happening. My body responded and the kiss lasted a long time. When I surfaced, Mike had a big grin and Liam was giving me a funny look. I had to get out of this situation soon before it became more complicated.
We had a pleasant lunch before I went home to Sam
Chapter Forty Two
Week fifty and we informed the rest of the team that although Sam was still an owner of the company, she had resigned as a director and had been sacked as an employee. She was now freelance. Sam had the mischief to demand an extortionate rate for the work that she would do as a freelance. I instantly agreed.
Tuesday was spent making sure that my moped was fully functional. I practiced most of my route in and out on the bike. Tuesday night and I was parked waiting for my contact. After my previous experience, I was nervous and wary. I sat there for thirty minutes and all I saw were three people coming to pick up their cars. After another five minutes another pedestrian got into a car and left. Ten more minutes and I thought that it was time for me to leave. There was a knock on my window. A tall guy in a balaclava signaled to me to unlock my car. As soon as I did so he slipped into the passenger’s seat.
“Have you fired a pistol before?”
“Yes”
“A nine mil?”
“Yes”
“How accurate are you with a pistol?”
“Marksman”
“What range will you be from your target?”
“Five to eight yards”
“How strong are your wrists and arms? Grip my hand.”
After a short wrestle he grunted.
“This is a 9 mil browning. Once you have used it dismantle it down to its smallest components and throw them away singly as far apart as possible. There is one full magazine. Where is the money?”
I handed him the money and he handed me the gun. I drove home and hid the gun. That night I went on to the net to check out about using a browning pistol. I now had the means to end Justin.
On Wednesday I took the gun to a derelict barn, miles from London and tried firing one shot at an old beer bottle. The kick was worse than I remembered but the bottle shattered. I had hit it from about seven yards. I knew that I would be able to hit Justin from ten yards.
I decided that Friday would be the day. It gave me a chance to do another dummy run the following day, Thursday. That morning I waited on the moped for Justin to arrive. I waited till well past his normal arrival time and there was no sign of him. I went to his home and watched. No sign again. There was nothing for it but to abort, but I thought that I would still try to make the kill on the Friday. I stripped the gun and cleaned it, making sure it was in perfect order. I slept very little on Thursday night. Friday morning and I was out on the moped. The gun was tucked inside my leather top. I had practiced taking it out of my jacket and releasing the safety catch. My heart rate was up. The adrenaline was flowing, I was in a state of very heightened awareness of everything around me. The world seemed to be going in slow motion. I was ready.
He did not appear at his normal time. I waited for another twenty minutes but I was becoming conspicuous, waiting there. In the end I had to cut and run. As soon as I was away from the scene I was hit with a splitting headache and felt lousy. I had come a long way down from the adrenaline high.
I would have to go through it all again on Monday. Sam was relieved to see me home safe. I had not told her any of my plan, but I am fairly sure she had worked most of it out. She knew what Justin had done to me and could not condemn me.
Later, I contacted Justin’s office, pretending to be a potential customer, and asked if I could speak to him. They told me that he was not in the office. I asked when he would next be in the office and was told that he had been called out to Thailand at short notice and they did not know when he would be back. Was I going to be able to get to him in time? Time was running out.
I was still fidgety and agitated by the weekend. A visit with Sam for another pre natal check was a happy interlude but worry about my underlying problem would not let me rest.
On Saturday Sam, Liam and I went to watch Mike’s first game back. With Sam present, I did not get into any troubling situations with Mike. On Sunday Sam, Mike and I went to mini rugby with Liam. Mike was very sore after his game whilst Liam played and I helped the coaches. There had been some problems over my checks for a criminal past. I had to admit to the club that I was a pre op transsexual, I so hated giving myself that label. We had a happy afternoon the four of us together. I started getting the fidgets come the evening, for I knew that if Justin was back, I would be after him again.
Week fifty one and at ten on the Monday morning I contacted Justin’s office again. He was still in Thailand. Time was running out.
Later that morning Megan came to me with a look of glee on her face.
“Kevin has just called me. One of his contacts told him that Justin had been arrested when he got off the plane in Thailand. As far as Kevin could tell the madam, who ran Justin’s set up there, had been caught with a large stash of drugs. She could have faced the death penalty if found guilty. To get herself off the hook she offered up Justin and all the human trafficking. The police in Thailand, France, Germany, the USA and the UK are all delighted. Kevin thinks that it is Kosher info.”
Sam and I could not afford to let ourselves get too excited. We needed definite proof that Justin was indeed under arrest. We got in touch with our retired police friend and asked him if he could check for us. We also searched the Thai English news on the web. There was news of the arrest of an English gang leader and a picture that certainly looked a lot like Justin. Kevin phoned again and said that he had checked with his security contacts and they were very happy that the Thai Madam was singing like a bird. The information that they have got already has opened up drug, prostitution, people trafficking and money laundering cases in at least five countries. Justin is in a Thai jail and if he ever gets out, there are warrants for his arrest in four more countries.
Three days later we had the news from our retired policeman. King-Smyth had done a deal with the local police fingering Justin for the bribe. Now that Justin was safely behind bars, he was no longer terrified.
We were home free. The relief was physical. I had to go and hide from everyone and I wept for an hour. We declared Friday to be a holiday and invited all the team and every person, who had helped, in for a celebration. We purchased cases of champagne and lots of good food. Sam was very good and stuck to soft drinks but I got legless. Mike helped Sam get me upstairs to bed and I have no memory of how the day ended. Apparently I had spent the last part of the evening complaining that I would not be able to shoot Justin now. People thought I was hilarious, little did they know.
Saturday I awoke with a serious hangover. My first thought was of the gun that was in my possession. My task for the day was to dismantle the gun and find a series of places to dispose of it, one part in each place. Sam drove and we visited every stretch of water that we could think of. At each location a single part or shell was hurled into the water. It was like a scattering of the ashes at the death of a problem. When the final piece was disposed of we hugged and kissed.
When we got home we just sat with our arms around each other and cuddled.
“Sam, you realise that I don’t have to wear women’s clothes any more. I don’t have to pretend to be a woman any more. I can start returning to being Tom.”
“Jen, you could have started returning to be Tom as soon as we knew that Justin had called us on your intended wedding to Mike, that was five weeks ago. You could have been changing back to Tom since then. You didn’t think about it, you just carried on as Jen. Why do you think you carried on?”
“It just seemed normal, it never crossed my mind. I had much more important things to worry about.”
“Do you really want to go back to being Tom?”
“Of course I do, I want to be a good husband to you and a father to our children.”
“I’m not sure it is that clear. There is probably no way back to being the old Tom. You have become very comfortable and natural as Jen. I love you as Jen, you are a wonderful person. If you want to go back to being Tom, you will need a double mastectomy and a heavy load of testosterone supplement. The testosterone could well make you grumpy and aggressive. I doubt if you will ever grow a beard again and you will be a very pretty man, unless I decide to break your nose and you get some facial surgery done. Your hips have widened and you have a feminine shape. I know that it is a sore topic but your once proud member is only a shadow of what it was. I don’t think there is any way fully back to Tom. What you will be is a Jom or a Ten. I think that, at best, it would take a very long time for you to get anywhere close to being even partially Tom. “
“I am not sure what you are saying to me.”
“What I am saying is that I loved the old Tom with a passion. I love Jen also with a passion and I am sure that I would love the new Tom, or a mixture of Tom and Jen. Do not rule anything out. Talk to the research team about how they think your body will react. Talk to the psychologist. Talk to anyone and everyone who you think can advise you. I think that you have three main options. One is to stay as you are and we will be able to enjoy the pleasure of your cock as well as the pleasures of our lesbian relationship. You can get back to being as close to the old Tom as you are able or you can go all the way and have the complete re assignment surgery.”
“Why would I want to take the last option?”
“So that you can become a complete woman. You have been a very successful nearly complete woman. I have watched you, enviously, with Mike and there is certainly a heterosexual woman in there as well as everything else. At some stage Jen may want to be with a man or at least have sex with one. I will fight to keep you, but if that happened I would have to let you go. I would still have the children. I think your personality and view of the world has changed. I know you never wanted it in the first place and I know your learning and your experience has been painful but Jen is a real person. I am not sure that you will be happy saying goodbye to her. I will stay with you whatever you decide. We are where we are. We can not turn the clock back. We start from where we are, no regrets.”
“Which option would you like me to take?”
“I am not going to say. It must be your choice. I can live and be happy with any choice you make.”
I had never at any stage considered a complete transition. Sam was right I needed to think, I needed advice and I needed hard facts about where I was. Until I decided what to do, I would stay as Jen.
Chapter Forty Three
It was week one of the rest of our lives. I arranged to meet with the Cambridge research team, my psychologist, Rose, Mike, my parents, Megan, Jackie, Tim and Martin.
Martin was lovely. He never knew me as Tom. His opinion was that Jen was a feisty lady, somewhat more direct and lacking in bullshit than one would expect from a lady. Jen was good looking rather than pretty and was certainly not a whimpering girly girl. Jen was fun to be around, kind, thoughtful and a joy to work with. He reckoned that Tom would have to be something special to beat Jen. Could he imagine me as Tom? Well frankly, no.
Megan, Jackie and Tim all said that they missed Tom, but on balance, they liked Jen more. They said that since I had become Jen, I had lost none of the things that they liked about Tom and had gained a lot in sensitivity and empathy with others. They said that I had lost nothing in drive or energy. They thought that the best change was that I was now assertive rather than aggressive. I was more subtle and inclusive. On balance, they preferred working with Jen.
My parents were strange. I was sure that they would want their son back. Mom was very clear, she said that much as she loved Tom, she had been able to connect much more directly with Jen. If I went back to being Tom, she hoped that she would not lose that closeness. Dad got himself comfortable on the fence and would not be budged. He said that he loved both Tom and Jen and would not make any choices.
My conversations with Rose were interesting. She asked me so many questions. What did I feel when I made love to Sam as Jen? How did I feel making love now as Tom? How comfortable was I in women’s clothes? How did I feel when men looked at me? How did I feel about my boobs? Did I enjoy the pleasure that they gave me? What were orgasms like as Jen? How did I feel when Mike kissed me? How would I feel about being a physically and sexually diminished Tom? How would I feel as a male knowing that I had no balls and needed to rely on testosterone supplements the rest of my life? How would I cope with being less of a man’s man? Now that I had lived as a woman, what were the advantages and disadvantages? If I had had a vagina would I have slept with Mike? Was I worried that I would lose Sam if I stayed as Jen? Was I worried that I would lose Sam if I returned to being a reduced Tom? Did I enjoy the increased understanding I had of what people were feeling and thinking? Did I enjoy looking sexy and turning heads? Was I still heterosexual as a man, heterosexual as a woman or bisexual as either or just totally confused? Did I want to be a mum or a dad? Rose told me that I was lucky because I had an easier choice. When she had transitioned, she had to say goodbye to all her old life and start again alone. She still had times of loneliness. I was lucky. I could choose either route without suffering great loss.
The questions kept coming. In truth, I had resigned myself to being a woman in the last few months and I had given up hope of returning to be a man. I had learned to live with myself as Jen and as soon as I had stopped fighting it, I had been comfortable being Jen. I had not thought about the strange life I was leading towards the end. It was just my life and I was comfortable living it.
The Psychologist was as much use as a chocolate teapot.
The Cambridge research team was the most illuminating. They certainly did not want to lose me. The data that they had collected, so far, would give them enough for publication, but it was very far from over. If I chose to try to return to living as a male, it would give them more data. If I chose to transition fully, it would give them more data. The key to their research was to try to find out why I was so different to a typical xxxy person. Why did my XYxx with incomplete extra x’s result in such a different outcome. They were very happy, whichever outcome I chose. They did warn me that my hormone induced female puberty was much more fundamental than was normal in male to female transitions. My pelvis had altered shape quite noticeably. They had never come across a case where a person who had gone through male puberty, had also gone through such a full female puberty. They had identified that I had tissue that was acting a bit like pseudo ovaries and producing estrogen. My breast growth had been very fast and now, after only a year, I was a very full B cup. The way my body fat had redistributed was completely female pattern. It was obvious that I had made strenuous efforts to keep fit and toned. I now had the body and shape of a fit young woman with one exception. I still had a penis and no vagina or womb. My body had convinced itself that it was female. If I stopped taking estrogen supplements my body would still be producing a background level of estrogen that would maintain my female shape. I would cease to develop further. If I wanted to revert to a male, then the source of the estrogen would have to be identified and removed.
They warned me that the shrinkage of my penis would not be reversed. The rate of shrinkage had been much faster than they would have expected. Even with a testosterone supplement, I would now need chemical help to maintain anything like a satisfactory erection.
Whatever my choice of action was, they would support me in return for research access. Their assessment was that if I had gender reassignment surgery, then I would function very well as a woman. I would be a prime candidate for a womb transplant. With a well constructed vagina and a transplanted womb it would be probable that I could give birth naturally, because of the development of my pelvis. Womb transplants had already taken place successfully and as I was already the subject of research my chances of becoming a recipient were very slim but higher than the general population. Without the womb I would still be able to function quite normally in every way apart from conceiving. I would even be able to breast feed, with minor adjustments in my hormone intake.
If I chose to revert to male, I would be able to function normally emotionally and mentally but I would be handicapped sexually. Physically I would remain with a pelvis that was more female than male and unless they were able to identify the source of the estrogen I would retain a tendency toward female fat distribution. It was unlikely that I would return to my previous levels of physical strength and I would continue to look quite feminine.
If I chose to stay as I was then no problem except that my penis would continue to decline in function and size. They could see no sense in keeping what was likely to become useless. They considered it far better for me if I had a functioning vagina. All they really wanted was continued research access.
Mike was funny. He told me that he had thought that I was a great guy as Tom and a damn good scrum half. He thought that Jen was a much nicer person and that he would hate to lose her out of his life. He thought that he was probably still in love with Jen but respected that Jen was married to and in love with Sam. He thought that Jen loved him at least a little and any time Jen wanted a kiss, a cuddle, or more, he would be delighted to oblige. If Jen decided to convert fully to a female, he would live in hope that one day she would let him make love to her. If Jen ever got her own womb, he would love to make babies with her.
At least that was honest. I was not sure that it was fair to allow Mike to believe that he still had a chance with me. I did have strong feelings about him. The idea of having full vaginal sex with him certainly did not repulse me. Quite the opposite, it started butterflies in my stomach.
Mike’s killer blow was to say that Liam loved his aunt Jen and still had dreams of her being his mum.
When I sat and mulled over all the input it left me confused. I could not deny that I was comfortable as Jen. I had got used to it. It wasn’t that it thrilled me or excited me. It didn’t give me a special buzz or fulfill some hidden need. It was just normal. I could just live it without thinking about it most of the time. It was only when I was sexually interested or aroused that it became an issue. I knew that I was capable of living life as Jen. I wasn’t sure that I could become a modified Tom and be happy. My basic conditioning was telling me that I should revert to Tom. Both reason and my heart were telling me that Jen was probably the better option.
When I sat and thought about it, my old todger was no longer my friend. Back in the good old days of being Tom, my todger had been a source of pride as well as pleasure. I had known that mine was bigger and better than the average. Now it was more a source of shame and anxiety. My balls had gone, I could not get a reliable erection and when I did, it was nothing to write home about. It was no longer my friend. I was ashamed of it and I sometimes thought that it would be better if it had gone completely.
Emotionally I just wanted to turn the clock back to where Sam and I were before all this started. That was definitely what I wanted. I wanted to be the stud, the fearless scrum half, the macho alpha man, respected by all. I wanted to go back to being Sam’s perfect man, her perfect lover. I wanted to be back amongst the lads on a Saturday boasting about the game. I wanted to go back to being in ignorance of how people were really feeling. I wanted to loose the empathy and understanding. I wanted to lose the knowledge of how a woman felt when a hunky man caressed her. I wanted to unlearn the vulnerability and fear that a woman can feel. I wanted to forget the feeling of physical attraction to a man. I knew in my heart all of that was gone.
All of that knowledge would stay with me.
In the end I went back to Sam and asked her for her opinion.
“My fondest wish would be to turn the clock back to the way we were a year ago. That is not possible and we both know it. We can only start from where we are. I hate what Justin has done to us but we are where we are. We have each other and the twins are on the way. We still have our health and our business. We are very lucky, possibly luckier than we deserve, given that stupid wager.
If I look at it from your point of view I think that you would always be frustrated if you returned to Tom. Everything that you have lost would haunt you. The difference would be a constant reminder. I think it would make you bitter. If you decided to stay as Jen, it would be an adventure with new things to discover and experience. You would be moving forward not backwards. You make a pretty interesting woman and I think you will enjoy seeing where it takes you. If you decide to stay as Jen I would recommend that you go all the way. Treat it as an adventure and become complete as Jen rather than an incomplete Tom. Indulge your femininity, let yourself be girly when you want to, be raunchy, sexy, flirty when you want to, have fun. I think you will enjoy the ride now that you have choice rather than being forced. You are an adventurer, enjoy the adventure.
From my view point, the essential you will be there whatever. I am happy to live with a revised Tom. He would be a great dad to the twins and all the rest of the children. I would also be happy to live with Jen. I love Jen dearly and I know she would continue to grow as an exceptional woman. I would love to be along for the ride as she grows. I think if you stayed as Jen without going the whole way, then I would find it a little uncomfortable in time. If you went the whole way I think you will make a great mum and a wonderful lesbian lover. I have thoughts about many things we could try together. I know that if we go down that route I am probably going to need a man from time to time. I know I have heterosexual needs. I am also sure that if you go the whole hog you will need to explore. You will not be able to resist finding out all about being a woman. Even knowing that, and the risk that I could lose you I think the right answer is Jen.”
I though about my choices, for quite a long time, before deciding on the course that I should take. What did I want? I now enjoyed the dressing up. I enjoyed that I had a figure that looked pretty good. I enjoyed the attention. I liked it when men found me attractive. I loved the soft and sexy clothes. I enjoyed making my face look beautiful. I enjoyed being pampered. I was intrigued about the thought of being made love to by a man. The idea of breast feeding our twins gave me a tingle. I liked that I was now lithe and supple instead of chunky. I had grown to love my boobs, even though they could be a nuisance at times. I enjoyed my contact with women and the closeness and empathy that I could feel. I even enjoyed the release of a good cry.
On the down side there was the loss of my old life, my friends, raunchy sex with Sam. There was the uncertainty of how Sam and my relationship would unfold. Sam had a strong heterosexual drive and I knew now that I could find a man attractive. So much uncertainty.
My choice was hard but, after a lot of talking, Sam and I made it before Christmas. We now had the excuse to shop like idiots. I applied to change my name legally to Jenifer Mary Young. I was now officially on my way. My surgery was due at the start of February and the twins were due in April. I planned it so that I would be healed in time to deal with the baby invasion. Liam spent almost as much time at our place as he did at home. Mike’s fan club of Sam, Liam and I would watch him play on Saturday and Liam’s fan club of Sam, Mike and I would watch Liam on Sunday. It confused the parents and supporters when I would be holding Sam’s hand one minute and Mike’s the next. It caused further confusion when I kissed both on the lips. I encouraged Mike to get himself a girlfriend but he was reluctant. We had become an extended family. Sam was by now getting quite big. Those who did not know our background assumed Mike was the father to be.
With Christmas over I had the opportunity to have an earlier date for the op. On the twentieth of January I spent my last day in the company of my cock. The following day I was operated on. The pain and discomfort was far greater than I had anticipated. I was in hospital for a week before I was allowed home. In less than fifteen months I had gone from being a full blooded male to being an official woman. I had travelled a very long way. It was a strange experience having my old man gone. In truth he had been slowly departing for a long time. Now that I had an inny instead of an outy, I felt as if I had been reborn. I was now a woman and Sam and I were on a new adventure.
I changed my legal status as soon as possible and Sam and I are now married as wife and wife. The process of dilating was uncomfortable to start with but it became more and more pleasant as time went on. Sam named the small one baby bear, the next one daddy bear, the third one Mike and the biggest one Danny. I was pain free after about four weeks except that sitting was still uncomfortable. I had my first wonderful clitoral orgasm after five weeks and, after Sam introduced me to Desperate Danny, her large vibrator, I had my first vaginal orgasm, wow. I was one of the very lucky ones who had sensitivity in their vagina as well as the clitoris after SRS. If what I experienced was normal, then women have it good.
It was strange that once my cock had gone, I did not regret its passing. I had fallen out of love with it. It had become a cause of anxiety and sadness rather than pleasure. My new equipment was so different and it was exciting to explore and experiment. It also felt right to complete the acceptance of my new life as a woman.
I was almost fully recovered when the twins were born. They were two beautiful boys. One was named James after Sam’s dad and the other was named Thomas. I had asked the doc to alter my hormone balance and the two of us breast fed the twins. What a gloriously intimate feeling that is. It is such a joy to be able to feed your child with your own body.
Epilogue
Sam and I are still together and we are blissfully happy. The twins are now six and are about to start mini rugby. They have two younger sisters, Megan who is four and little Patricia who is two. I breast fed both and the connection with them is wonderful. We ran out of my sperm after that, so four should be the end. The children are happy and healthy and they all love Liam who is now a very mature sixteen year old. Liam baby sits for us and is starting to show signs of being a good analyst programmer. I suspect he will go into engineering in the end.
I still coach the mini rugby, helped by Liam and Mike. Mike is playing vets rugby now but is still in very good shape. The business has grown considerably. Martin has retired again, but acts as a non executive director on the board. Megan, Tim and Jackie are still with us, each leading their own team. Tim and Jackie finally married.
I get to play rugby again. I had to wait two years after my SRS before I was eligible but it was worth the wait. I am now one of the taller members of the team, instead of being the shortarse. I play any where they want me, fly half, centre or back row. At under 10 stone I am a bit light for the back row. My strength is much less than it was as a man, but my speed and elusiveness are greater. Women’s rugby is quite different, there is a type of intensity that is far distant from the grunts of the old props and second row I used to play with.
Sam is my fiercest supporter and is on the touchline each game. Player’s partners are a mix of male and female. Most of the girls are very heterosexual. Not that many people seem to remember Tom. He was a good guy while he lasted but he has faded away.
Sam was absolutely right about my need to explore sex with a man. As you probably guessed, my first time was with Mike and it was mind blowing. If I had known what it was going to be like I think I would have transitioned sooner. Sex with Sam is great and we have an extensive collection of toys. It is wonderful how inventive you can become with the right incentive. Sam and I make love, but we both have sex with men from time to time.
I now understand why Sam needed sex with a man. Being fucked by a well endowed hunk, who is a skilled lover, is so much more than having sex as a man. I love the feeling of being possessed and filled. If it had not been for the horrors that Justin put us through, I would never have known that pleasure.
I have become much more girly now and actually enjoy the fashion and the shopping. I have become a natural at the make up. I love sexy lingerie. Sam has become the one who sorts out the banking and the technical stuff. I tend to do more of the mumsy stuff, though the split is still pretty even. As I said before, I am still slim at comfortably under 10 stone. My pelvis developed a bit more width and my bust ended up at a C cup, which gives me a much more balanced look for my height. I now look like an athletic woman of a little above average height. I have kept my hair shortish and still go for kick ass styles. My shoulders are slightly broad for a woman, but when I wear a backless dress they look great. My bust is still new enough that it is firm and pert and I love to show off my cleavage. We still go on naturist holidays and I am very comfortable and proud of how I look. My only draw back is that my large nipples signal what I am thinking far too quickly, much to my occasional embarrassment.
Sam and I get competitive when we go out as to who can look hotter. If anything, I am a worse flirt than Sam. When we assess men for fuck, marry, friend or ignore, our decisions are quite close now. I tend to check out attractive men and an assessment of their endowment is part of it. Size is not everything but it is something.
I am ashamed to admit that we did discuss having a threesome with a hunky male where we could both get a good rodgering together. We even got to the stage of selecting a man and inviting him into our bed, but the whole thing was so ridiculous that we could not stop laughing and the poor man left confused and very frustrated.
The naughtiest we have been was to double date and each book a room in the same hotel with our dates, it was fun and satisfying to know that we were both scratching an itch at the same time.
We both know that we need a man from time to time for a good rodgering. Sam’s preferred partner was Danny until he astonished us all by getting married. My preferred partner was Mike. Mike has now got a long term girlfriend at last, thank goodness. His partner Eileen has become one of the extended family. Liam thinks she is great. Sam and I still have our scratching posts for whenever we have an itch. We do not deny ourselves pleasure and fulfillment, but we remain totally committed to each other and still deeply in love.
We still have girl’s nights out with the crowd about twice a year and our behaviour has not improved as we have got older.
Justin is in a Thai jail and will be for a long, long time. I heard that King- Smyth only served just over a year.
How do I feel about being a woman now?
I have great memories of being Tom. I really enjoyed everything about being him, he was a good guy. I miss my old sex life with Sam. I miss the simplicity of life as a male. You have to make so few decisions about your appearance. I miss the fact that guys automatically took me seriously and didn’t spend their time fixated on my bust. But life is good now. I still have Tom’s drive and his zest for life. I love to dress up now and make men’s heads turn and God do I love a good, uncomplicated, physical fuck every now and again. Given the right man it can be mind blowing.
Do we ever gamble now? What do you think? Are we happy? Yes. Any regrets? Not that I can think of.
THE END (for now)
I would like to give a huge thank you to everyone who has ploughed all the way through my story. I know that the original premise was a little far fetched, but I wanted to have my lead character taken kicking and screaming down the path to femininity and to find out on the way that, they had not only coped, but actually enjoyed the journey in the end.
A special thank you to all those who left comments, I found them very supportive.
There are a few more stories at various stages, but none ready to go. I am working on a detective story, where the policeman hero has to go under cover as a cross dresser.
Cheers
Annie xxx