All for Jasmine

By Samantha Jay
© November 2001

Part 2 - Jason and Karen

 

The smell of breakfast being cooked wafted into the bedroom and brought me slowly back to consciousness. I was confused; Barbara never cooked breakfast.

Slowly the events of the last two days came drifting back. I then realised who was cooking and, more frighteningly, who was meant to join her. Had I really agreed to do this?

I got up and went to the bathroom. After my shower, I shaved my face very carefully. I wanted it to be close, but I didn’t want to cut myself. I am fortunate in that my beard is usually sparse and fine. I checked my legs and chest. They would be okay for another day or two.

Back in the bedroom, I put on my cache sex and grabbed the suitcase.

"I seem to remember buying a white bra and knickers once," I said.

I eventually found them, I didn’t often wear them because I like black, but those needed washing. After inserting the breast forms, I hunted for something to wear.

I found an old T-shirt with ‘I love Amsterdam’ as a motif. I hadn’t worn it for ages and it was a bit tight. I put on a pair of jeans and slipped my feet into my slippers. I put my wig back on and went to mirror. A bit of lipstick and I was done.

I looked at myself. The T-shirt was tight, you could see my nipples and I looked funny with men’s slippers on my feet. Oh well, time for breakfast.

I entered the kitchen. "Morning, Karen."

"Morning, Jasmine, coffee?"

"Yes, please? What are you cooking?"

"Just eggs and bacon, it’s all I could find. You are really going to have to start eating properly," she said.

"What do you mean?" I was confused again.

"Jasmine, your first lesson of today is… eating. Always remember, everything you eat will end up on your hips. Say it."

"Everything I eat will end up on my hips," I said.

"Your weight looks okay at present, but you will have to work at keeping slim. No one looks at an overweight woman."

"But who’s going to look at me?" I asked.

"Lesson two… men will stare at you, actually they will stare at your tits; and girl with that T-shirt their eyes will be out on stalks." I felt myself blush. She continued, "Women will check you out, they are looking for any possible competition."

"Competition!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, competition. It’s a basic instinct thing," Karen explained. "If you look at the animal kingdom, generally one attracts a mate by having a better display than the others. It’s the same with us; the initial attraction is down to looks. The better you look, the more potential mates you will attract."

"But I don’t want to attract potential mates, especially men," I said quickly.

"Don’t worry, there will be a lesson on how to deal with unwanted advances," Karen joked.

I went and sat down at the table. This was getting serious.

"Enjoy your last taste of a cooked breakfast," Karen said, as she placed the plate in front of me.

Breakfast over and the crockery washed, we went into the living room. I sat on the couch and Karen sat on one of the comfy chairs.

"Okay, Jasmine. Just how serious are you?" She looked serious and went straight to it.

"What do you mean, Karen?" I was confused.

"It’s not just a matter of wearing clothes, although if you want to stay indoors all the time, then that is just what it is. But if you want to move around, out there, the other side of that door, then there is a lot that you need to learn. You are good, Jasmine. Very good in fact, but you still have a long way to go." As Karen was saying this I was deep in thought.

She continued, "There’s the way you walk, talk, use gestures, stand, sit, eat, drink and posture and that’s just for starters. I haven’t even talked about what to wear and when to wear it or even makeup. Before we start you need to ask yourself… how serious am I? - Then answer it."

I continued to think for a few moments and replied, "I am very serious. I don’t think I want to change sex, but…" I paused, reordered my thoughts and said, "Look, what I want to do is live as Jasmine and anything I have to do to achieve that, I will do. Is that serious enough for you?" I think now, I was challenging her.

"Alright, you have three main physical problems: hair, gonads and body shape. At the moment, with one of those, your gonads, you only have one option, hiding them!" Karen was grinning as she said this.

"Hair is split into three areas, body hair, that’s legs, arms and chest, facial hair and that on your head. Body shape is also split into three, chest, hips and waist." She looked at me and asked. "How often do you shave?"

"Face, every day, at least; legs and chest, twice a week," I answered.

"Alright, you’ll deal with body hair by using a combination of hair removal creams, waxing and shaving. Don’t worry, we all have hair on our legs and you’ll simply adore waxing." She had seen my worried look.

"Facial hair is going to be a problem and I think the only answer is electrolysis."

"Isn’t that expensive?" I asked.

"It can be, I’ll find out. That just leaves your crowning glory."

"You can be so bitchy sometimes," I joked. She knew I was partially bald. "I’ll just have to wear a wig all the time."

Karen thought for a while and then, grinning, said. "I’ve got an idea. You are going to let me shave your head then keep it shaved. You can say that you’ve had a disease, or something, that caused your hair to fall out."

"You want me to shave my head?" I asked, surprised.

"No, dummy. I’m going to shave your head. You won’t have any choice in the matter and don’t worry, when I do it, I’ll be gentle." Karen was bouncing as she said this.

"Okay, that just leaves your shape," she continued before I could dwell on the full meaning of what she’d said. I continued to worry about having my head shaved.

"What’s wrong with my shape?" I asked, thrusting my chest out.

Karen laughed. "Stop flashing your headlights," she said.

I sat back on the couch.

"Women have breasts, narrow waists, generally, and bigger hips. I don’t think that you will get away with wearing those falsies for long and besides, they limit the number of clothes you can wear."

"What’s the answer?" I asked, even though I thought I knew what it would be.

"You can have implants or hormones, but, with implants, the surgeons would need some, how can I put it, ‘protuberances’ to give you a natural look. So the only option is hormones backed up with implants, if necessary."

"Isn’t that risky?" I asked.

"Depends and I only know the risks from the female side, not the male, so we’ll have to do some research. Anyway, hormones should help with the hips and, to some extent, some of the body hair problems."

"Is that it?" I was still pondering the possible side effects of taking female hormones.

"Not quite, the last part is the waist. You are going to have to wear some form of restraint for a while."

"What type of restraint?" I had visions of manacles or handcuffs or both.

"A corset or waist nipper, something that will help to reduce your waist."

"That all," I was relieved. "The way you said it, I was expecting something worse."

"You obviously have never worn a corset," was Karen’s mysterious answer.

"Why don’t we look on the net?" I asked.

"Good idea," she replied

We both got up and she followed me into the study. I switched on the computer and waited for it to boot up.

"All my life I have been told that computers are faster than humans. If that is so, why do we spend a lot of time waiting for them to do something?" This was one of my old sayings that I used when I wanted to appear funny.

I entered my password, waited for Windows to finish booting and double clicked on the Internet Explorer icon. Eventually my home page painted itself on the screen.

"You use Dogpile as your default search engine, do you?" Karen asked.

"Yes, any suggestions on what to search for?"

"Try hormones," she suggested.

"Yikes, that’s a lot!" I don’t know why I was surprised.

"Okay," Karen thought for a while, "try oestrogen."

I entered the word and hit return. "Still a lot, but only web pages, no sites." I thought about this and said, "The country that is more conversant with gender problems is America. I wonder if we’d get more hits if we use the American spelling?"

"Do they spell it differently?" Karen asked naively.

"They spell everything differently," I said laughing. "Now how do they spell it… oh, I know?"

This time I entered ‘estrogen’, "There you go, let’s scroll down and see if anything matches."

"There’s a possibility," she pointed and I clicked on the link.

A quick scan showed that it wasn’t what we wanted. We searched for about half an hour and then hit upon a promising site. I made notes, followed links and saved pages. I closed the connection, printed out the pages, switched off the computer and we went into the kitchen.

"I suppose it’s my turn to make the coffee?"

"You’re the lady of the house, I’m just a guest," Karen said, grinning.

"Thank you, ma’am," I said, trying to curtsey in jeans. Karen fell about laughing. With tears rolling down her face, she came over and kissed me on the cheek.

"You’re precious, do you know that?" She said.

"Thanks again, Karen. Shall we look at the info we’ve gathered?"

Sitting down on the couch together, we went through the pages, pointing different areas out to each other.

"I don’t like this part," I said.

"Which part?"

"The part that says that I could become sterile." This worried me, as I’d always thought that I would like to have had kids one day.

"This bit’s about having to block the male hormones, it seems that it would be healthier to be castrated." Karen was reading the article carefully.

"Talking about health, it looks like I could do serious damage to my liver." This was getting very heavy. We both read on.

"Jasmine?"

"Yes, Karen."

"This stuff," she waved her arm over the scattered pages. "I think you are going to have to seek some medical advice."

"Where from, Karen? My doctor’s old and probably won’t be sympathetic."

"You don’t know that, but I can introduce you to mine, if you like? She is very good and helped me a lot when Robert died."

"Thanks, Karen." I looked at the clock. "Hey, it’s lunch time."

"Mmm. Shall I make a salad?" she asked.

"A salad!"

"Remember lesson one," she said with a grin.

I pondered and said, "Okay, a salad it is. Boy, what we women go through." Karen just laughed.

We went into the kitchen and, as I got out the plates, Karen got the food.

"Karen, just what type of food do I have to avoid?"

"It’s not just type, Jasmine. It’s also the amount, the way it’s prepared and cooked." Karen paused and continued. "Generally women eat smaller meals than men, we also drink less."

"Drink less?" This puzzled me. "Every time I’d been out with Barbara she, and the other women we’d been with, seemed to match the men drink for drink."

"What do you mean, ‘match the men drink for drink’?"

"They would drink at the same rate as the men," I answered.

"But did they all have the same drink?"

I thought about this. "No, most of the men were drinking pints of beer, whilst the women were drinking wine or fruit juice."

"Pints of wine or fruit juice?" she said.

"Of course not, Karen, women don’t usually drink pints of…"

"Bingo!" Karen interrupted. "It’s no good just looking like a woman, the signals you send out must also say ‘I am a woman’ and a woman drinking a pint sends out the wrong signal."

"You must send out all the right signals otherwise you risk detection," she continued. "You have got to unlearn all of your masculine traits and learn feminine ones. Your actions have to become second nature."

"I’m not sure I can do it," I said.

"Of course you can, it’ll just take time, that’s all. Anyway, let’s get back to your original question. You should change the way you cook, fried food adds fat and that’s bad."

"So if frying is out, that leaves boiling, baking, stewing and grilling," I suggested.

"You really need to cook healthier. There’s enough fat in food without you adding any. It’s easier not to put weight on than it is to take it off. How do you think I maintain my shape?" Karen asked.

"Sorry, I never thought about it," I replied.

"Men don’t, but it’s hard work, I can tell you." With this Karen finished putting the salad together and took the plates to the table, whilst I took the coffees.

I must have looked worried because she continued, "It’s not all that bad, there are more good things about being a woman than bad."

"I’m not sure I want to be a woman, looking like one, yes, but not being one," I offered.

"To look like one, you have to be one. I don’t mean that you will have to have a sex change, but when a woman says ‘I’m late’, you’ll think period rather than appointment. You’ll sit to pee, even when naked; go broody when you see a baby. That’s just part of what ‘being a woman’ means."

"Sorry, Karen. I’ve got a lot to learn," I replied.

"Yes you have, but just wait until you experience the thrill of seeing a man dislocate his neck to get a better view of you." Karen was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Salad’s nice," I said. "I don’t normally eat just salad."

"Get used to it," Karen answered. "It goes with the job, but you haven’t just got salads to choose from. There’s pasta, rice, even potatoes, the trick is to eat things that are low in fat and calories, but high in bulk. That way you feel full before you eat too much. Just don’t overdo it on the bulk."

Lunch over; we took our coffees into the living room.

"Watch me as I sit down," Karen said. She put her cup on the coffee table and sat on the couch, smoothing her skirt as she sat.

"Notice what I did?" she asked.

"I think so, you placed your coffee on the table, sat on the couch and crossed your legs."

"Why?" she asked.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Jasmine, it isn’t a simple case of plonking your bum on a chair. I did three specific things, so I want three answers to my question," she replied.

"Well, the first thing you did was put your coffee on the table because you didn’t want to spill any," was my first reply.

"Good, as far as it goes. How did I put the cup on the table?"

"I’m not sure I understand?" I was confused.

Karen got up, picked up the cup and said, "There are two ways of placing things on low tables like these and they depend on the effect you want to achieve. Firstly you can bend over, placing the cup down." She demonstrated as she spoke.

"The effect depends on the type of clothes you wear, but imagine I’m wearing a very short skirt and a low cut top. What do you think you’d see and how would I look?"

"I think that you would possibly expose your knickers and your breasts… oh I see what you mean. It’s a sexy pose."

"Exactly! If I were wearing a Wonderbra with a low cut top, the man opposite would get a very good view, and may have to relieve himself, whilst the man behind could tell you the type and colour of my knickers. The other way is to bend your knees and gently place the cup on the table."

Again she demonstrated the manoeuvre. "Okay, continue."

"You kept your legs together as you sat," I said.

"Did I do anything whilst I sat?" she asked.

"I don’t think so," I replied.

"Tut, tut, Jasmine, not very observant are you? Watch closely as I do it again." She sat down as I watched.

"Now I see, you moved your hands under your legs."

"Do you know what I did?" she asked.

"No… not really." I answered.

"Not to worry," she said. "What I did was to smooth my skirt as I moved my hands forward and, when they reached the hem, gently pulled it forward. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, you don’t crease the skirt and second, you don’t show what you are wearing to people. That, by the way, was the other reason I put my coffee down, so that I’d have both hands free."

"So I suppose the reason you crossed your legs was so that people don’t see what you are wearing"

"You’ve got it. Men like to know what you are wearing so that they can fantasise and women, so they can gossip. Men seem to get some perverted thrill seeing a girl’s knickers. This is one of the most important things you have got to learn. I cannot stress this highly enough. Women keep their legs either together or crossed all the time they sit."

"Even when they wear jeans?" I asked.

"Even when they are wearing jeans. Remember, when you take the lid off a tin of beans, you can see the beans. Open your legs when you are sitting and people can tell you if you are wearing stockings, tights, red knickers, blue knickers or even no knickers at all."

Karen paused and I was nodding my head, trying to take it all in.

"Sitting will be one of the times you will be closest to discovery unless you learn to keep your legs crossed. Now practice sitting and standing."

I began my practice with Karen giving me a running commentary.

"No, not like that… better… try and keep your feet together… that’s it…" She kept on and I improved, slowly.

Finally, she said, "Let’s call it a day, Jasmine, next time you practice you’ll have to wear a skirt."

Karen had drunk her coffee whilst I had been ‘exercising’, but mine had gone cold, so I went to make another one.

"Refill?" I called over my shoulder.

"Yes, please?" she answered.

With fresh coffees, we sat on the couch and Karen said, "Let’s recap, shall we? Oh, and you sat down better that time."

I went through what I could remember. "I have to watch what I eat and drink, watch what I wear…"

"Watch is too strong a word, Jasmine. You have to be aware of the effect the clothes you wear can have. No one is saying you have to dress like a Nun, but if you dress sexily expect comments or even advances."

"Thanks, Karen. I’ll try and remember that. Now where was I? I have to remember not to bend at the waist, but bend at the knees, especially when wearing short skirts and sitting is a minefield. Does that sum today up?"

"Just about, you’re doing okay, Jasmine. Mmm, I’ve just had a vision of you in a bikini and I can’t wait to see if you match it."

"Karen!! There is no way I’m going to wear a bikini," I remarked, but Karen just smiled enigmatically.

"I wear one, so why not you," she said.

"Because!" I said, trying to be firm.

"Because what? Because you’re a man, I don’t see a man, do you? All I see is a nice girl who could look stunning in a bikini, after a little work of course."

"Yeah, and it’s that work that I’m concerned about." I looked at Karen, who was grinning from ear to ear. I continued, "Oh, I give up! You’ll have me kissing a man next."

"Not if I can help it," she said softly.

The rest of the afternoon was taken up with watching a film that Karen wanted to see. Before we knew it, it was dinnertime and Karen suggested Chinese. I knew a good take away that delivered and that I’d a menu for. We decided what we wanted and I ordered.

It took about thirty minutes for the food to arrive and, when the doorbell rang, Karen went and paid for it.

"I thought fried food was out, Karen?" I asked.

"Generally yes, but food is stir fried in the Far East, which uses less fat. If you have to fry food, try stir frying it," she replied. "Have you got a wok?"

"I don’t know," I replied.

"Well, get one. You know, I haven’t asked. Can you cook, Jasmine?"

"Eggs, beans on toast and anything that can be nuked," I answered proudly.

"A whiz kid with the microwave… I see," Karen laughed. "Well, you are going to have to learn how to cook proper meals."

"I think there’s a couple of cookbooks somewhere, unless Barbara took them."

"That’s a start. We’ll have to get you enrolled in cookery classes," Karen said.

"Who, Jason or Jasmine?" I asked, nervously.

"Jasmine, of course. You silly girl."

Now I was really worried. "I suppose I’m going to have to learn how to iron as well," I said, gloomily.

"Yes, and how to use a washing machine. Maybe I ought to get you a maid’s uniform," Karen’s eyes twinkled.

"Only if you get one for yourself," I quickly replied.

"Oh, the possibilities, can you speak French, by the way?"

"Non, mademoiselle, but I can put on a bad French accent," I said.

"Never mind," she said, grinning.

I pondered the day’s events as I tucked into my food; I had enjoyed myself and looked forward to the next time. A thought crossed my mind.

"Karen, you do realise that Jason will be at work tomorrow and not Jasmine?" I’d had this horrible thought that she expected Jasmine.

"Yes, I had realised that, my dear," she answered. "As your instructor, and friend, I think it would be best if we take things slow. Don’t you?"

"I agree, I suppose you have a timetable in mind?"

"I have, but don’t worry, we won’t venture outside until I think that you are ready. I won’t subject you to ridicule, you’re too good of a friend for that," she said.

"Thanks, Karen. It was the one thing that worried me the most."

"What are you going to do about a lawyer?" she asked.

"I haven’t thought about it," I replied.

"Why don’t you ask John?" she was referring to Mr. Harvey-Smith.

"Could do, at least he could recommend someone."

"Jasmine, do you mind if I leave early tonight?" she asked. "I’ve got a couple of things I need to attend to at home."

"No, not at all. I’ve rather monopolised your weekend."

"It was a pleasure and I am looking forward to next weekend."

Karen left shortly after we finished dinner and I went and watched ‘the box’. It was the usual Sunday night offerings and I was soon treating the television as ‘moving wallpaper’, meaning I was not taking any notice of what was on.

When I decided I was ready for bed, I did the rounds and checked everything was either switched off or locked. In the bedroom, my bedroom, I stripped off, putting the wig and breast forms back in their packaging.

‘I shall have to get a wig block,’ I thought.

I removed my cache sex and released my penis and testes from their imprisonment; boy did that feel good! With my makeup removed, I set the alarm and went to bed.

*****

I silenced the alarm at soon as it started bleeping and lay back, thinking about yesterday. Was it a dream or did it really happen? Did I spend all day as Jasmine? Would Karen really buy me a maid’s uniform? Did she really mean that Jasmine enrol in cookery class? Just what had I got myself into?

I stopped the panic and remembered the good bits. Overall I’d had the best day of my life, at least since I’d gotten married.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, that last thought brought me down to earth with a bump.

I began my usual morning routine and was dressed and out of the house in a little over thirty minutes. I wanted to get in early because I was worried what Karen would say to Jennifer.

I opened up the office and got the coffee going. It was still a bit early for the mail, so I checked the milk and sugar situation. Jenn rolled in at about eight-thirty and Karen ten minutes later. Over the first coffee of the day, I broke my news to Jenn.

"Barbara’s left me, Jenn. She’s found someone else and has moved in with him." I noticed Jenn’s look of shock as I told her.

"You poor thing. How you coping?" Jenn asked, she knew I was close to Barbara.

"So, so, and it’s thanks to Karen that I survived the weekend."

"So, what happens now?" This from Jenn.

"I’m going to ask one of the legal eagles for advice. Barbara hinted that she wouldn’t contest the divorce and has given me grounds."

Jenn looked at the diary. "John’s in this morning, but Emanuel is out all day."

"Thanks, Jenn. I’ll talk with John."

The conversation then moved onto Jenn’s weekend and I noticed that Karen was unusually quiet. The mail arrived and, as I sorted it, the girls checked for any messages on the answer machines.

John Harvey-Smith breezed in about nine-fifteen and I took a coffee into his office.

"John, when you have a minute, I’d like to ask you for some advice?"

"No problem, Jason. How about now?" John replied.

"I’ll need to get a lawyer," I started. "Barbara has walked out and wants a divorce."

"I’m sorry to hear that, Jason, but you don’t need another lawyer, I’ll do it."

"I wasn’t expecting you to do it," I stammered.

"Think nothing of it, I’d enjoy the change," John said. "Do you know who she’ll be using?"

"No, I’ll ring her at work today. She says I can cite her adultery as grounds."

"So she’s not going to contest the divorce then?"

"I think she just wants out of it, said she’s got a lover."

"Well, that will make it easier and quicker, as well as cheaper." John remarked. "I’ll make a couple of phone calls and let you know the rough timescale. Who knows, I might be able to call in a couple of favours."

"Thanks, John, but you needn’t go to all that trouble on my behalf."

"No trouble at all, Jason," John said as I got up and went back to my desk.

"How’d it go?" Karen asked, just ahead of Jenn.

"No sweat, John says he’ll represent me." I answered.

"Barbara’s office rang," Jenn said.

"Saves me having to ring them," I replied. "Did they leave a message?"

"Mmm, something about using Frank Symonds of Morley, Symonds and Brown."

"Thanks, Jenn. Can you pass that on to John for me, please?"

"Sure," Jenn answered. "Barbara sure seems to be moving fast on this?"

"I think she wants shot of me, Jenn." As I said this, I thought I noticed a pained expression on Karen’s face. "You all right, Karen?"

"Yes, I’m okay," she replied.

"No, you’re not, what’s the matter?" I pressed her for a proper answer.

"You saying ‘she wants shot of you’."

"Well it’s true. Why else would she give me the house as well as hinting that she won’t contest the divorce?" I said. "Maybe she’s realised that marrying me was a mistake? Maybe she wants to forget about me as quickly as possible?"

"And maybe she’s wrong in letting you go?" Karen interrupted.

Jenn and I looked at her and then Jenn asked, "How long, Karen?"

"About a year," Karen answered. I hadn’t a clue what they were on about.

"I thought something was up?" Jenn said. "Want to tell me?"

"It just crept up on me," Karen was talking softly. "I finally realised last month."

"What crept up on you? What did you realise? What’s going on?" I was totally out of it.

"Shall I tell him or will you?" Jenn asked Karen.

"No, I’ll tell him."

"Tell me what?" I was going round in circles.

"You mean you don’t know?"

"Know what, Jenn? Why is everyone talking in riddles?" I was getting more confused by the minute.

"I’m in love with you, stupid," Karen exclaimed.

"You’re what?" I was flabbergasted.

"Jason, you are a very sweet and gentle man. You have always helped both of us, never treated us as anything but equals. You were too good for Barbara and I’m glad she’s gone." I went into shock as Karen continued. "You are kind and sensitive and I have never heard you say a bad word about anyone."

"I agree wholeheartedly with you on that score, Karen," Jenn added.

"I had no idea, Karen," I said.

"Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, not with you happily married, but you really scared the life out of me on Saturday."

"No, I suppose you weren’t and I’m sorry about Saturday," was all I could say.

"What’s this about Saturday? It was Jenn’s turn to be confused.

"Let’s just say, I stopped Jason doing something extremely dumb," Karen replied.

"Okay, I won’t press," Jenn said.

"Thanks, Jenn," I said, gratefully.

"I thought I was hiding it, but old beady eyes over there noticed," Karen continued.

"A little less of the old, thank you, but I have known you for a while now and remember, women notice these things." Jenn said, smiling.

"Well, I never noticed," I chipped in.

"Men don’t," was Jenn’s comment.

"Don’t be too hard on him," Karen asked Jenn.

"I could never be hard on him, Karen, he’s too sweet," Jenn answered.

"And keep your hands off, I’m going to make him mine," Karen laughed and Jenn laughed with her.

"Do I have a say in this?" I asked.

"No!" they both said, laughing even harder.

"Women!" I said, as I left them to it and went to make more coffee.

I plunged deep in thought, whilst waiting for the kettle to boil. Karen’s revelation had shaken me; I’d had no idea, am I that blind? What else had I missed?

I tried to remember the past year; nothing out of the ordinary sprang to mind. I didn’t think that I’d behaved differently to either of them. I still couldn’t understand why Karen was in love with me. I’m just an ordinary guy, no different from the rest. Actually, just like the rest, now that I’ve got a broken marriage.

The coffee made, I took the cups back into the office. The girl’s laughter had subsided into giggles.

‘Just look at them,’ I thought. ‘Looking at each other and behaving like schoolgirls.’

"Any chance of either of you getting back to work?" Well, I was ‘Office Manager’.

"Masterful, isn’t he?" Jenn said, and they both collapsed back into hysterics.

"Oh, I give up!" I said, as I went back to the kitchen.

Karen came in a few minutes later. "You know that Jasmine will have get some more clothes, don’t you?" she said.

"I know," I hesitated. "Karen, you’re not serious are you?"

"What about?"

"About what you said?"

"I’ve said a lot of things, Jason."

"About you being in love with me."

She paused and then said, "Yes, Jason. I’m very serious."

"Why?" Yes, it was a stupid question, but I didn’t have another.

"I meant what I said about you. You really are a nice bloke."

"That’s very nice, Karen, but you still love me even with what you know?"

"That just makes it even better," Karen replied.

"But I’m not in love with you, you know that. I like you. I like you very much and you are very nice, but I’m married to Barbara."

"Not for much longer, but I understand that. I just hope that, over time, our friendship will grow into something stronger. I will wait, Jason, I hope that it won’t be too long, but I will wait for ever."

"I’m overwhelmed. I didn’t know you felt like that, but I can’t promise anything."

"Again, I know that, but, even if you never grow to love me, I will always be your friend. I will also be Jasmine’s friend." Karen’s eyes were moist.

Kissing her on the cheek, I said, "Thanks, Karen."

I went back into the office and Karen followed a couple of minutes later. The rest of the day was routine, actually the whole week was routine. John let me know that Barbara’s solicitor had sent him a letter confirming Barbara wouldn’t contest the divorce and that she didn’t want the house or anything in it. That being the case, John told me that he could get the petition before a judge within a month.

It was Saturday morning and I was waiting, anxiously, for Karen to arrive. We were going shopping for clothes for Jasmine. The bell rang and I rushed to the door, how different to a week ago. Karen waited on the doorstep; I motioned for her to come in. As she passed, she gave me a kiss on the cheek, then went into the living room.

"Want a coffee before we go?" I asked.

"Yes, please, Jason?" she answered.

An hour later, we were heading for Lakeside, a large shopping complex. As expected, parking was chaotic, but we managed to find a space and headed off into the mall.

"Are you ready for this, Jason?" Karen asked.

"I think so," I answered.

"Remember, we’re shopping for Jasmine, if you think she won’t like anything, say so."

"Don’t worry, I will," I said.

First stop was BHS, where we stocked up on bras and knickers, being careful not to buy too many and thereby inviting questions. On to M & S for more bras and knickers and a couple of tops I’d noticed. I carried the bags back to the car, then rejoined Karen.

Opposite the food court was a nail shop and I treated Karen to a manicure, I drank coffee, whilst she was being pampered. Once they had finished, she came over and showed off her new nails. They’d put extensions onto her nails and painted them pink. I was dead jealous.

A couple of dresses, blouses, tights, stockings, suspender belts and three skirts, all followed the bras and knickers into the car. That just left shoes.

Karen is a four and a half, Jasmine a five. We decided that I would pick the styles and then try them in the safety of my home.

"If we use Clarks, then if they don’t fit, you can get them changed locally," I offered.

"It will be better, when Jasmine can try them on in the shop," Karen replied.

"Yes, I know."

We bought a pair of ‘strappy’ sandals with a two-inch block heel and a pair of knee length boots with a three-inch stiletto heel. I was shattered.

"Time for bed, said Zeberdee," I recited a line from an old kids programme called ‘The Magic Roundabout’, indicating that it was time to go home.

"Yes, please?" Karen jumped in quickly.

"Behave, you," I shot back, grinning while Karen just pouted.

During the long drive home, we talked about nothing in particular, just small talk.

When we were almost home, Karen said. "Jason, I’d like to return last weeks favour and take you out for a meal."

"No problem, Karen."

"You sure?"

"I’m sure, you choose the place." I said.

"You’re being good about this."

"Why not, we’re only going for a meal."

"So, you’re happy to be seen outside, as Jasmine."

I heard the sound of a penny dropping inside my head, I momentarily lost control of the car and exclaimed. "Jasmine!"

"Yes, Jasmine," Karen said firmly.

"Now hold on a bit! You didn’t say anything about Jasmine going out."

I drove the rest of the way in a dazed and concerned state. Once home, it took little time to unload the car and for the packages to be taken to my bedroom.

The underwear was put into drawers, the dresses and skirts hung up in the wardrobe and Jasmine’s hair put on a wig block that Karen had bought.

"Go and have a bath and a shave whilst I select something for Jasmine to wear," Karen suggested.

I meekly complied, I felt I was being railroaded, but I did trust Karen. As I lay, soaking, in the hot scented water, I wondered what Karen was selecting for Jasmine.

I had a long soak and, feeling refreshed, decided it was time for my shave. I soaped my chin and reached for my Gillette. I wrapped a towel around my waist and went to find out what I was going to wear.

Karen had laid the clothes out on the bed. She scowled upon seeing me.

"Jasmine, cover your breasts! When are you going to start believing that you are a girl and behave like one?

"Give me a shout when you’ve got your knickers on," she said, as she left the room.

I put on my cache sex, after tucking, and then a white suspender belt, a white bra and knickers completed the ensemble. With my breast forms securely nestling in my bra cups, I called for Karen.

"Nice," she said. "I’ll give you some help with the nylons."

She carefully rolled up one and slipped it over my foot, then, also with care, she slid the material up my leg, made sure the seam was straight, and secured the stocking to the suspenders. The process was repeated with my other leg.

"I’ve got a surprise for you," Karen’s eyes twinkled. "Don’t go away."

She was back very quickly, carrying a bag, out of which, she extracted a waist nipper.

"This will help reduce your waist a little, you know you’ll have to wear a corset almost full time as Jasmine?" Karen fastened the contraption. "It will also make your dresses fit better."

"It’s a bit tight, Karen," I wheezed.

"A corset will probably be tighter in the beginning, at least until you get used to one. Don’t worry; when you wear one, I’ll wear one. Okay?"

"If you say so," I gasped, as I slowly got used to the constriction.

"Okay, sit at the dresser and give me one hand."

She took my hand and placed sticky tabs on each of the nails, on these, she placed false nails.

"These aren’t as good as extensions, but you can have those when you’re full time," she said, as she worked.

When both hands were done, she painted the nails red. Satisfied, she moved onto my face. I had always done this sparingly, but Karen gave me a lesson in the art, as she worked her magic. My lips were painted red to match my nails.

"Let’s have a look at your pits," she said, as she held my arm up. "Yuk, just look at them. A veritable forest."

"Don’t exaggerate," I said.

"I’m going to have to shave them. A lady does not have hairy pits."

She fetched a ladyshave and started to de-hair my armpits.

As in answer to my thoughts, she said, "I brought this for you, it’s better than a male one."

"I believe you, thousands wouldn’t," I wasn’t fully convinced.

Once happy with her efforts, she helped me put on a black sleeveless dress which zipped up the back. I put on the sandals and was pleased that they fitted and were comfortable. I sat down at the dresser again and Karen placed, and fixed, my wig on my head.

Karen lent me a broach, which she pinned to my dress just above my left breast and an elegant gold watch.

"Now, go downstairs and let me get dressed," she said.

"Thanks, Karen," I gushed and left her to get changed.

About forty minutes later, Karen entered the living room and I gave a whistle.

"Wow! I thought you were beautiful last week, but now…" I let my statement hang.

"Thank you, kind Miss," she said, whilst doing a mock curtsey. "I couldn’t let my girlfriend make me look like a wall flower, now could I?"

"I hardly do that," I responded.

"Have you looked? You are really attractive, if I were a man; I’d go out with you. Hell, I’d go out with you anyway."

I blushed and mumbled my thanks.

"Now, you’ll need a bag. I wasn’t sure if you’d got one, so I brought one to go with that dress. Put your house keys, lipstick, compact, tissues and some money in it."

With that she handed me a black clutch and I went to follow her suggestions.

"I’ve ordered a taxi and it should be here soon. Now remember, tonight, you are Jasmine, Jason does not exist. You are a sexy young woman. Keeping thinking that. It might be a good idea for you to say it," Karen said.

"I am a sexy young woman called Jasmine," I said.

"Again, but this time, mean it."

"I am a sexy young woman called Jasmine," I repeated.

"Again."

"I am a sexy young woman called Jasmine."

"What do you see when you look in a mirror?" Karen asked.

"A good looking woman," I answered.

"Just remember that."

The doorbell rang. It was our taxi. We walked down the path and the driver opened the rear door. Karen got in by sitting down and bringing in both legs together. The driver closed the door and we went round the other side and the process was repeated.

Karen gave the name of the restaurant and we were on our way. No turning back now. When we arrived the process was reversed, the driver opened the doors and we swung our legs out and stood up.

A waiter escorted us to our table and I felt every man’s eyes following me as I walked.

Once alone, Karen said, "They were admiring two beautiful women."

I smiled weakly, but inside, I was jelly. We both looked at menu.

"I don’t think I’ll have a starter, Karen," I said.

"Good thinking, best if we leave the sweets alone as well. All those calories." Karen replied. "Your voice is not bad, but I suggest that you speak softly, don’t try to raise the pitch. Using a soft voice will make you sound husky, like a young Dietrich."

The waiter appeared by my side and asked. "Are you ready to order, Madam?"

Trying to keep my voice soft, as Karen suggested, I said, "I’d like the gammon, please."

"That sounds nice. Can you make it two?" Karen said.

"Certainly, Madam and for drinks?"

"House red?" I asked Karen, who nodded.

"Two glasses of house red, please?" I told the waiter, who nodded and went to fetch the wine.

"How do you feel?" Karen asked, concern showing in her voice.

"Terrible, my insides are like jelly and I can’t stop my knees from knocking."

"You’re doing just fine," Karen managed to say before the waiter brought the wine.

"When you eat remember to take small bites," Karen continued once he had gone.

I took a sip of my wine and found it tasted good.

"Did you notice the guy in corner?" Karen asked. "He hasn’t taken his eyes off either of us."

"It’s you he’s really looking at."

"Jasmine, when will you get it through your pretty little head, that you are every bit as attractive as I am." Karen’s voice took on a hard quality. "I don’t want to hear you say that you’re not, again. Okay!"

"Okay. I’m sorry, but it takes some getting used to."

"I know," she replied.

Just then our meals arrived and the conversation degenerated into discussing the sizes of the male diner’s penises. At one point we dissolved into giggles and it was a good two minutes, or so, before we could resume eating.

The meal was good, Karen paid the bill and another taxi took us home. Once in the safety of the house, I collapsed in a heap.

"You were brilliant. No one knew, all they saw were two women having a meal." Karen’s tone was uplifting.

She helped me to my feet and gave me a hug. I reciprocated and our lips met.

"Time for bed," I said.

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Samantha Jay. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.