A Change of Life

by Paula Mortenson

  

Part Two

Chapter Four

  

I hardly did anything over the following three days. The girls rang in to my lecturers and fended off enquiries from George and my fellow students. During that time I was treated as a female with females and hardly a masculine thought entered my head. Mel had found me a couple of oversized T shirts and lent me knickers as my smart outfit had been devastated by George. In the evenings we sat and chatted and eventually I convinced them that I wanted to forgive George.

Neither Mel nor Sandy had lectures on a Wednesday afternoon so there was no surprise when they came bustling and chattering into the flat at lunchtime. The surprise was the parcels they carried. They chattered and laughed, obviously excited about something but no word they said made sense. They dumped their parcels and Sandra dashed outside to reappear with a massive bouquet of roses. She giggled and smirked as she held them out to me. They were gorgeous and I was trembling as I snatched the card stapled to the cellophane.

"My Darling Paula,

How can you ever forgive me for frightening and hurting you like that. S&M have been keeping me up to date with how you are and have really torn me off a strip. But I was so overcome with you that night, how beautiful and incredibly feminine, that I just lost control. Please, please forgive me.

Do you feel up to going out tonight, I promise I'll be on my best behaviour and Sandra and Melanie say they're coming along to make sure I behave myself.

Please, please let me see you so I can plead for your forgiveness and make it up to you.

All my love George xxxxxxxxxxxxx

PS M&S say you've nothing to wear on Saturday so I hope these presents will cheer you up and replace what I ruined G XXXXXXXXXXX "

I looked up from the note with tears welling in my eyes as the girls surged forward to hug and kiss me. After tears all round and the blowing of noses we settled down on the sofa.

He had pleaded with them to let him see me again and they had threatened him with the police but his sorrow and the lengths he was prepared to go to convinced them to intercede with me. That I had expressed a desire to see him again, despite what had happened, gave him a chance with them but he had to pay a high price.

A giggling group of girls stood in our living room opening the parcels, for Paul now seemed so far away.

"Who chose these things?" I asked, trying to imagine myself in the short black lycra skirt and the scarlet sleeveless polo necked 'all in one'. I had already decided I would wear them with the black satin jacket I had worn on Saturday.

" We helped him, otherwise you'd never had got out of the bedroom. The body will look good, it'll help keep your other bits out of the way. But these knickers, I just couldn't resist them. What do think, Sandy? Fancy ripping them off me?" challenged Melanie.

The girls began to chase each other around the flat, screaming and laughing and there was little doubt about their intentions. I quietly scooped up the remaining three unopened parcels and retired to my little bedroom.

The girls had insisted that though I had been resting over the past days that I got up each morning, bathed and dressed. I stood and gazed at myself in the mirror. What I saw was hardly distinguishable from the real thing as I pulled the baggy T shirt tightly around myself trying to imagine how my new skirt would look on me.

Without thinking I opened my bedroom door, intending to borrow the full length mirror in my friends' bedroom. I stopped dead, not daring to move. I forgotten my flat mates and they had gone ominously quiet.

They stood, nose to nose, teasing each other by one, then the other, flicking a tongue over the other's lips and outstretched tongue. First one would move her tongue forwards sensuously drawing it under the others upper lip and then thrust it forward into a mutually searching kiss. Then the other would repeat. They gazed, glassy eyed at one another, not blinking, consumed in their mutual passion. They had already hurriedly stripped themselves, or each other to the waist. Oddments of clothing were strewn around their feet and Sandra' blouse hung, still tucked into her waistband at the back of her skirt.

Their bra's dangled, unfastened, on their shoulders and their four hands were engaged in mutually tweaking and caressing the other's breasts. Judging by the swollen nipples on view they were already on the desperate side of passion.

"Since you're there, you may as well make yourself useful." Rasped Mel. "We always get to this stage and then have to stop to get undressed, it's bloody frustrating. Come over here and get my skirt and things off." Added the other.

It was weird, two frantically desperate and very sexually aroused females with one thought, one mind.

"But…er…er."

"Oh, don't be such a prude. We saw George and you doing it last Saturday, so what's the problem? Hurry up."

That last beseeching cry made my mind up. What they had seen and heard those few days ago meant that I could hardly refuse their pleas.

"Come on, stand behind me, That's right. No, I'll do that myself. Now slip your arms under mine. Now take over what I've been doing to Sandie's breasts. She likes it rough so squeeze hard and don't stop, whatever happens."

It must have been a very strange sight. Melanie was squashed between Sandie and myself, in a feminine threesome.

"Cow, your fingers are cold. Harder. Squeeze harder. Go on nip them, hard you bitch. Now run your right hand up my breast and up to my shoulder. That's it, now bring it down, slowly sensuously. Now caress me, make me want it. Now twirl my nipples, harder you bitch. Now the other side. Come on, work at it."

While they cursed me, each other and various parts of their anatomies, Mel reached behind herself to release her skirt. How she concentrated, I will never know, as her breasts in turn were under Sandie's constant attack. Her skirt dropped to the floor, leaving her only in tights and panties. She pushed my hands from her lover's breasts.

"Drop my tights and get rid of this bra." Came a gasped instruction. Since my hands were now free I did as I was told, and cleared the remaining clothes from around her feet. Mel was now stark naked and I waited while their increasingly frantic scrabblings reached new heights. I felt left out as my new sexual identity gave me both a masculine and feminine view of the proceedings. I was only later that I decided as a male I could only be a voyeur as my presence was an irrelevance to them but my new found femininity, affected my still male body to show my interest and there was no doubt they were aware of this.

Sandra broke her gaze away to show that she now required my assistance. I began to step behind her but by one means or another I was instructed to kneel beside them facing Mel. Their sideways step caught me unawares as my face was pressed against a tummy and after downward pressure my mouth arrived at pussy level. Mel tilted her hips forward so there was no doubt what was required. Uncertainly, my tongue slipped across a shaven pube until a sharp intake of breath told me I had reached the target. Sandra ground herself against the back of my head using me as a human dildo.

"Keep pressing you bitch, I've got to strip off now." Whispered Sandra hoarsely. Almost before she released the pressure on the back of my head Melanie's hands were gripping me to her. Sandie yanked my hands upwards and planted them on Mel's magnificent 40C boobs. Her nipples were huge and in the flush of pleasure they projected massively. The strains on my body were enormous but my fear of letting them down kept me going. I listened desperately for the rustle of clothes hitting the carpet and after an age the relieving sound was heard.

"Paulie's tongue seems to be doing you good, do you mind if I borrow it?"

The pressures momentarily relented, my hands were relieved of their duties and there was a whirl of bodies resulting in me having a new target. The screams, moans, cursing and frenzied movements meant they were surely close to orgasm. The bizarre affair was putting strain on my tongue, arms and panties as my own organ fought to escape it's restraints.

They seemed to change up a gear and now it became uncomfortable as their hips ground at each other with my head in the middle. There was a sudden change in their breathing above and a long drawn scream sent a chill down my spine. The gush over my tongue told me that Sandra had climaxed, little did I realise this was not the end.

Another mad scramble changed my position to service Mel but the pressure on my head included Sandie's hand as she played frantically with herself. I found myself being crashed back and forth as each fought to reach new heights. A low continuous moan told me that now Mel was reaching her climax and my head was battered like metal crushed between a hammer and an anvil. In a rush the moan was joined by another scream and slowly, so slowly they came to the boil together.

Their lovemaking now slowed, gently rocking back and forth as they savoured and maintained the glow, in a mutual satisfaction. I was still trapped in a world of rampant female sexuality, only able to smell their juices, only able to taste womanhood and only able to stare at a shaved pube. Through all this my masculinity was desperately trying to free itself as I felt pangs of jealousy at their love and fulfilment. I wanted that fulfilment and wondered whether a gentler George might make me a happy girl.

They released me from my prison and helped me to my feet but immediately grabbed my arm. Their eyes showed they wanted more and were going to get more.

"There's just one more thing you can do for us and then there's something we'll do for you. Come on, into the bedroom."

The statement had been a request but there was no denying them. Half intrigued, half excited I was lead through to the bedroom. Perfume was dabbed on me after me T shirt and panties had been removed. They insisted that I make my self up touching and caressing each other as they watched. As I blotted my lip gloss they stood each side me before the mirror. I watched as a hand moved from Mel's breast to mine and one of Sandie's did the same. Expert fingers caressed, taking me from pain to bliss and back before my very eyes. An electric shock ran continuously from my nipples through my whole body, taking me to the edge of consciousness. At the movement I thought I was going to faint from the pleasure they gently led me to the bed.

I lay on my back, unable to move, completely at their mercy. My arms were stretched at right angles to my body and one of them , I have no idea which, clambered over me to lower her shaved pussy over my mouth and nose. Slowly she rocked back and forth inviting attention from my tongue. The other was in or on the bed but I had no idea where she was. I imagined she was somewhere above head giving additional attention to her partner as very soon there was a rocking and rolling and I heard them both come in their very individual ways.

I only felt them change places as now a pair of panties had been draped across my eyes. Again and again their positions changed and I no idea who was where or doing what. Through all of this my penis stood like a lone sentry. I lost track of how many times they came to noisy climaxes and suddenly they were there no more. There was whispering and felt the rasp of a razor at my pubic hair. Which of them was wielding it I had no clue but I knew it had to be the old cut throat they kept on the bathroom shelf. My penis was moved from side to side as they, whoever it was, reached all the tricky spots and I held my breath. But there wasn't a nick or a cut, for I learned later that every week they shaved each other, obviously as I had seen with great expertise.

Once again baby smooth femininity eased its way across my face but this time the geography felt wrong and I realised that she, whoever she was, faced the other way, towards my feet. The other participant climbed on the bed and eased herself across my thighs, allowing me to enter her. What had gone before meant that she was well lubricated and she would hardly have noticed my entry until her muscles flexed and gripped me like a vice. From then, though the grip never relaxed. They ignored my body and once again concentrated solely on one another. Both kept their hips still but soon I heard the deep moan and the beginnings of that scream as they approached their orgasms again. As they reached the point of no return their hips began to move and my prick was vacuumed upwards as I, for the first time that afternoon, shot everything.

It was strange, I felt pleasure but it was incidental. My mere male spasm was a disappointment after what I had witnessed. I lay quietly, as they were quiet, all of us savouring the moment in our own ways. I thought fondly of George, If he had only a tiny fraction of their love, commitment and stamina I was going to be very lucky.

A sound above me told me they were moving but I was silently told to stay where I was. Within moments I heard the bath running and when I opened my eyes I was alone. There was a self-conscious silence around the flat so I scuttled to bathe and wash my hair, ready for tonight. We all listlessly pottered around the flat that afternoon partly embarrassed and partly I suspect suffering from a sexual hangover.

My feminine routine took over. I dusted myself with talc, I brushed my hair, I checked that I had no unsightly hair, I checked my nails for chips in the varnish. All the things any girl would do before an important date.

  

Chapter Five

My presents were still scattered over my bed and I now opened the rest of them to discover a silky midnight blue body, complete with suspenders and a lacy effect over the bra cups. It was gorgeous except I discovered the crotch fastened with a hook and eye arrangement that was going to be tricky if I needed the loo. The polo necked all in one had a similar arrangement but with poppers. I was going to have to avoid drinking too much. I giggled as I thought of the problems George was going to have and embarrassed myself with those beetroot cheeks again. I was interrupted by Sandra offering to do my hair.

"Leave your make up until I've finished your hair, but we'd better get a move on. Have you opened all your presents, yet?"

I shook my head so Sandie called to Mel and she bounded in to sit with Sandie on my bed. They looked like children waiting for Father Christmas to dish out the presents.

"George went off and bought some things on his own and we're dying to see what he got. Small packages are always the most interesting." Mel pointed at the smallest of my packages.

"That's why I'm leaving that one til last." I laughed. There were coos and ahs as the first package contained a bracelet, ear rings and a delicate wrist watch.

"He's obviously expecting Paula to be with us for some time," I smiled, hoping that might be the case. I hesitated before opening the smallest parcel. After taking a deep breath I ripped it open to find a ring box. I flipped open the lid.

The ring was beautiful. Just a single stone, a topaz I think. I could feel the girl's eyes on me as I slipped it on the ring finger of my right hand. It fitted perfectly! The girls leaned forward inspect it, approving of my acceptance of it but also I sensed my reluctance to make a bigger commitment by putting it on my left hand.

The girls left me to dress. I felt the excitement and anticipation building inside me, not the recklessness of Saturday but more an expectancy. After all, I was experienced now and was fully aware of the hoped for conclusion to the evening. As I strolled, slightly nervously into the lounge to show off my new outfit and received approval for my overall look I realised that I was interrupting them again. They were sat close together on the sofa exchanges those little intimacies that only lovers can. They gazed up at me so obviously in love.

"Here put these in your bag and make sure you use one."

"Or two if you're lucky!" giggled Sandra with a major smirk.

I looked in puzzlement at the pack of condoms and would you believe that blush raced through my cheeks.

"Bu, but…I don't need them ..I can't, well.." I just didn't know what to say.

The girls looked meaningfully at one another and then at me.

"There are several reasons to use them except that one certainly can't apply to you."

"What? I don't understand."

"Well, they're hardly to stop you and George getting pregnant, are they?"

"I don't, didn't…er.. George." I stammered, not realising what I'd said.

"You do know the facts of life, don't you?" "Yes." "Good. You don't fancy doing to him what he obviously did to you Saturday night?

"No." This conversation was going in an odd direction. "It doesn't appeal to me. I enjoyed sucking him but the other, no it wouldn't be right."

"So you like being feminine, being passive?" I nodded in agreement.

"Look that means two reasons are out. If he does tonight, if you want to, of course, try to get him to wear of these. It's for your own good. Not that you weren't exposed Saturday but it'll be easier, they're lubricated so less painful. I've heard some men like having them put on. But it's up to you. OK?" Sandra was just like a big sister it made me feel so close to both of them.

"Yes, but can I ask you something?"

They looked carefully at me before nodding.

"This afternoon you said there were two things. One for me and one for you. I don't understand." I took a deep breath before I asked the next question, I sensed I was on dangerous ground. "And why should you involve me, physically a male in, er..er, " I was not sufficiently confident to ask outright. There was a silence.

"Wasn't that the best screw you have ever had?" snapped Melanie.

"Yes!!." Giggled Sandra.

"Not you, I mean Paula."

I was too shy to reveal that it certainly was only because in second place was a fumbling with a cleaning lady at home, when the speed of my coming was only matched by the speed of our movements when my parents arrived home early. The cleaner was sacked shortly after.

"Yes, but why?"

"The chance for a man to do it with two women comes once in a lifetime, if he's lucky. You've got something to boast about now."

"I didn't screw you, whoever it was, she screwed me. It was almost as if I was a woman with a man who had no prick but four tits and two pussies." Those last words I spat out, hardly daring to look them in the eyes.

"Did you enjoy being the woman?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Why?

"I don't know. I feel right, being Paula. I've been so calm and relaxed over the past week or so. I don't know about babies and things but if I'd been born that way I'd just take it in my stride. I'd rather have women's private bits but I suppose that'd be a bit of a shock for George. This afternoon, despite having a penis, I didn't feel male. You made me feel as though I was a third woman joining you."

There was a thoughtful silence, they looked at one another and they spoke. It was weird they finished each other's sentences but it was as though a single person was talking.

"It was exciting this morning, shopping with George. It was like looking for a trousseau. Don't think we're not into romance. We are, in a big way. We love each other, the difference is we don't need a man. Except for one thing. We've decided that we want a family. In a funny way you made us realise how much we want children. Artificial insemination seems so cold and impersonal and the chance arose with you, a female male."

I could hardly believe what they were saying but there was no doubting their sincerity.

"With you we were able to make love together but also give us the chance of a baby. You didn't intrude like a proper man would have done into something that will always be a precious memory. Taking part, that's what you did for us. What we did for you and I know it sounds silly, was made you a member of our private club. You remember that we shave ourselves, well we've always joked that it was our club and now you're an honorary member."

Despite feeling good for helping them and being touched by their love I still had the feeling they were trying to weigh up the effects of their efforts at feminising me.

I've already I had dressed at home but until now I had never ventured outside and my attempts at make up had been laughable. But last summer holidays I had had a blissful three weeks while my parents and sisters had been away.

My father had insisted that I visit the factory every day and every evening he phoned to take my report and issue further instructions. Little did he realise that as he spoke to his son he would not have recognised him. As each day on my return from the factory I slipped off my outer garments to reveal a variety of feminine underwear. I studied, cooked washed and ironed in my female clothes but I could never seem to get everything right at the same time. I had even visited Gramps in hospital, where he was recovering from the car accident that had killed Grannie, with bra and panties beneath my male outer clothes.

After one of the visits to Gramps I recalled an incident involving him when I was at school. Mum and Dad were very particular about our schooling, we all had to go to a single sex school, very British and all that. Even my sisters did, but they boarded only visiting home at half term and in the holidays. I was more (or less, according to your view) fortunate as I was a weekly boarder. That is I came home on Saturday nights and went back to school on Sundays, sometimes Monday morning.

At my school there was a tradition that each Christmas the upper school put on a play, mainly attended by parents and local people. Other than those performing few of the pupils went because we generally did Shakespeare. Because we were an all boys school female parts were always a problem but we had a few lady teachers. Generally more mature ladies, less moral danger, I suppose.

My last year we did something different. It was "When we are married" by JB Priestly. It's set in 1908 and is a social comedy. I really wasn't interested but Mrs Thelwell who took me for A level English, she had a major part. Unknown to me there was a problem with the casting. There are, I think, six female parts, one of whom is a young woman, about 20. At that time I was about 18, fair, slim and I never had any trouble with my skin.

One day she got us to read out loud some Shakespearean scenes, now I realise she was talent spotting. She made it very clear (and despite being a woman in a boys' school she never had any trouble with controlling her classes) that we were to put everything into our performances. There's this funny scene in Henry V when the King is chatting up the French Princess. It's even funnier when you realise that when it was first performed boys played all the women's parts. I'd always been good at mimicking so, after a little stern instruction from Mrs Thelwell, I gave it everything, reading the Princess. The voice, the French accent, my body movements as well as my eyelashes fluttering outrageously. She quelled with a single word the coarse comments from my classmates and urged me on.

The sting came at the end of the lesson, I never stood a chance. She asked me this and that, always getting me to agree with her. You never argued with her and before I realised I had agreed to take the part of the young woman.

I wasn't on stage for very long and I don't suppose I was very good but two things stick in my mind. The dress was one of those sweet Edwardian ankle length creations, in white organza with little bows over the bodice. I wore it with white lace gloves a matching wrist bag and I carried a parasol. The way it hung over my slim body and swung to and fro and the click of the white heels were an explosive combination for an impressionable 18 year old. The thoughts I had, the drams and fantasies turned that into a very special Christmas.

Gramps and Grannie came to see a performance, together with Mum and Dad and my two sisters. The female members of the staff had their own dressing room and for some reason I was included with them. It was an experience I will never forget. When I arrived for a performance they were wary of me but once I was dressed, bewigged and made up I was one of them. They always referred to me in my character's name and though I was not required for some time after the first act I always stayed in character. They discovered at the dress rehearsal that I was skilful with an iron so I was accepted an unofficial wardrobe mistress.

After the performance I was reluctant to meet my family in character but I knew that Gramps would have to get Grannie home. There was little alternative. As I walked away from the dressing room that night I spied Gramps walking towards me. Those beetroot cheeks were very soon in evidence and I barely dared to raise my eyes to face my grandfather. I was in awe of him and at that moment the clicking heels, swaying dress and aroma of the cosmetics combined to produce a considerable state of arousal under my dress. I sneaked a look at him through my heavily mascara'd eyelashes. He was as white as a sheet, staring at me as though he had seen a ghost.

"Gramps, are you OK?"

As soon as I spoke he regained his composure, his colour returned and he began to congratulate me, over generously. He apologised that neither Grannie nor he could stay as Grannie was unwell. Grannie was always unwell, usually at the most inconvenient moment but Gramps never seemed to mind.

He urged me back to the dressing room saying that it would spoil the effect if I were to appear in my costume. He thrust the equivalent of more than four months allowance into my hand and ushered me back down the corridor.

After what I learned last night about him, I wonder what he saw in me that night and why I was not allowed to see Grannie.

  

  

  

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