The Images in My Mind             by: Janet L. Stickney                          JanetLynn17@Hotmail.com

 

The images jump to my minds eye clearly. All of the fears and joys of these early years. Since I alone am the editor of my dreams, I'm probably selective about what I chose to remember, but all of the fears of discovery and the breaking of the social taboo's, along with the self rejection linger on, like a self imposed exile. We all have the power to transport ourselves to the wonderland where all of our fantasies and greatest adventures come true. They call us, we cultivate the possibilities, and cherish the dreams of what might come true, as well as what could happen. Wishes and desires, possibilities, and hopes, all clashing against the reality of life.

When I stepped out of the house for the first time, I was actually trembling. I felt the cool night air as it caressed my nylon clad legs, heard the click of my heels on the concrete, and left a trail of perfume in the air behind me. That was last night. I simply drove around for a while, not stopping anywhere, hoping I didn't have any car trouble. If my buddies find out what I'm doing, well, it will be unpleasant to say the least, but I made it home without incident, quickly undressed, took a shower and washed away the perfume and makeup. This image of fear and desire are with me to this day, and I still tremble when I think of it.

Growing up I wanted to be rich, good looking, and smart. I also wanted to be a woman. For some unknown reason I was drawn to feminine things, and I tried them all. Even those old rubber girdles, hard to get on, sticky when you tried to get them off, relief when you finally managed it, makeup that would not easily wash off, and skirts down to my ankles. I suffered through it all, hiding my desires, frustrated at my failures and ashamed of what I was doing. Yet I continued to dress as a girl as often as I could. By the time I had my own apartment I knew, or at least I thought I knew, how to present myself as a young woman. I even had a few clothes of my own. That first night in my apartment, I lay in bed and let my dreams take me to the place where I am beautiful, with men clamoring to take me out. The scent of the perfume, the whisper of the soft material as it flowed over my shapely body, the nylons holding my legs in a warm caress, and long hair that reached my back. All of it pushed me to achieve my dreams. But I am short and squat not tall and lithe. Short brown hair instead of long blond hair. Brown eyes instead of blue. The woman I could become is not a beauty, instead, a plain woman. Not a man in a dress, simply a plain woman.

I do not want to be a plain woman. I want silky soft skin, full lips that a man would want to kiss, with a radiant smile. I want gorgeous outfits and perfect radiant hair. I want to be a girl with a sweet childlike look, pretty and wholesome. I want to be like the proverbial girl next door, the cheerleader, the popular and vivacious one. I want to wear bright trendy clothes and be able to wear my hair in a perky ponytail or a sexy style. This is the sweet and pretty girl I want to be. Not going to happen, but hey, it's my dream, right?

My job allows me to be very liberal about how I dress, so I began to let my hair grow out. As the first month went by, I hungered for the time I would be able to buy some clothes that actually fit me well. As my desires built up and I stared at my pitiful wardrobe, I became edgy and tense, willing, yet somehow afraid. Finally, when I could stand it no more, I used a catalog to determine my measurements. Then I had to find the courage to buy some really good breastforms. I called several places, explaining why I wanted them, but all of the women I talked to sounded angry that a man would want to be fitted for breasts. Then I called a shop and talked to Cathy. Without the slightest hint of dismay, she made an appointment for me, telling me to come dressed so she could determine the right size for me. In my dreams the breastforms would be so good that it would look like I grew them myself, flowing out of my body in a symmetry of twin delight. It did not turn out that way.

On the day of my appointment, I spent several hours getting ready, then, wearing a blue skirt and white blouse, with the fear of laughter and unwanted discovery close at hand, I drove to the shop. Cathy turned out to be a woman my mothers age, with twinkling blues eyes and snow white hair. After three tries, she decided on a breastform for me. A B cup, it was merely close to my skin tone and hung on my chest using a double sided tape. They felt great, soft and pliable, like a real breast, and my disappointment with them was pushed back in the euphoria of actually having the best available at the time. I went home wearing them, the new weight pulling at my chest, filling the bra, and bringing my vision of the woman inside a bit closer. I wore them every day I was off after that. The next item on the agenda was to have my hair styled at a salon, in a feminine way. Jeri had cut my hair for ages, and I trusted her. I decided to tell her, willing to go somewhere else if she went crazy on me.

When I told her what I wanted, all Jeri did was make the appointment! Not one word about how I wanted it done. Like Cathy, she asked me to come dressed as a woman. It took every bit of nerve I had to walk into the salon dressed that way, knowing it would be full of women, all of them watching me. At least that's what I thought. As I sat in the familiar chair, she and I scanned through her books for a style, selected one, yet in the end, I let her modify the style anyway she wanted. It didn't take that long, yet an eternity passed as all of the new smells of a salon assaulted my nose. When I left the salon with my hair in a pageboy, rolled and set with some liquid concrete she calls hairspray. I was no longer merely plain looking, I am plain looking but confident now. As I stepped out into the bright sunshine, the cool fall day, my brand new breasts, and a new hairstyle, all combined as one, and at that moment, I decided to try shopping as a woman, in the largest mall around. Never before had I ever gone anywhere near the mall dressed as a woman, yet I felt certain I could do it now. I parked as far away from the door as possible, simply to give myself time to back out, yet, as my hand found the door pull and I stepped inside, an unfamiliar calmness fell over me. Holding my head up I went straight to the lingerie section of the store, then selected three new bras, a few slips, a nightgown and some panties. The woman took my money with barely a glance. Buoyed by my minor success, I walked into the dress department, selected two skirts, a dress, two pair of slacks and a pair of shorts. I paid the bill, again with no notice, and walked back to the car. I was elated at how easy it had been to simply buy what I wanted, as a woman, without anyone pointing my way.

I had achieved my minor miracle. All the way home I thought about being inside the mall, my skirt swaying with every step, my purse clamped under my arm like a football, my eyes straight ahead. I had done it, which gave me more confidence. I dragged the clothes to my apartment, put them on the bed and made a small lunch, then I went in and tried on every single item. The dress looked okay, but the suit looked the best. A red jacket with a pleated black skirt, a white blouse with black heels. The jacket was cut in a manner that made it look as if I have a better shape than I do, the skirt just above my knees accented my legs. As I stood there, I decided on a deeper red lipstick, put some on, and stood looking at my reflection. My mind drifted to the time when I was alone with my Grandfather in the hospital.

"I'm not leaving here alive, and we both know it son."

He was quite ill with a number of ailments. At age 91, he had worked hard all his life, and the wear and tear on his now frail body had simply wore him out. I held his hand in mine, this man who had raised me, and I loved beyond words.

"Listen to me. You live your life your way. Not my way, or someone else's way. Your way. When I was your age I did not have this choice, but you do."

He squeezed my hand tightly, his cloudy blue eyes focusing on me, riveting me. I was unable to look away.

"Your soul is soft and gentle, like your Grandmother. Be yourself, explore who you are, then do what is right."

Moments later he lay still, his eyes closed. He had gone to join our ancestors. I hoped he would find Grandma when he got there.

I don't remember it, I was very young when it all happened. After my parents had been convicted and sent to jail, my Grandparents took my brother and I into their home, and then raised us. Now they were both gone, leaving my brother and I with only each other. I felt the tear on my cheek when the doorbell rang. Before this, I never would have even answered the phone, let alone the door when I was dressed, but this time, after my escapade in the mall, and looking the way I did, I walked to the door and opened it. Looking back at me was my brother. I could actually feel the muscles in my butt tighten up when I saw him. All I could do was wave him inside. Without a word he walked in, turned, and looked at me. Then he smiled!

"So, you finally managed to make yourself presentable!"

He smiled at me, then sat down on my couch. It took all of my efforts to sit across from him, as femininely as possible, my knees locked together, my hands in my lap, and my heart beating hard. Sweat was running down my back as I waited for him to say something.

"I stopped by to see if you wanted to hit that new club downtown."

"I…I…can't, I'll have to change…not today."

"Yes you can. It's obvious to me that your hair has been done by somebody that knows what they're doing, and I have to say that you look very nice. Why don't you go change into something for the evening? I'll be back in four hours, we'll go have dinner, and then hit the club."

He didn't wait for my answer, he simply got up and went out, turning and smiling at me as he closed the door!

I was left sitting there wondering just what the hell was going on! Of course my brother knew about my attempts in the past, but this is the first time he actually commented on the way I look, and on top of that, he wants me to go to a nightclub with him! As I dabbed at my eyes, the doorbell rang again. Thinking it was my brother, I opened the door, expecting him to tell me it is all a joke, but there stood my neighbor. Sheryl is blonde, with her hair cut in a pixie style. Bright green eyes that always seemed to twinkle, a smile that exposes her white teeth at a moments notice. She is about as tall as I am, and almost the same weight. She is the kind of woman I could become.

"I saw you come in earlier, then that guy came over. Now, tell me all about it."

Sheryl knows for certain that I am not a female, yet she didn't say a word about how I was dressed! Her eyes did look me up and down, but nothing more. She stepped in, and I waved at the couch.

"That was my brother by the way."

"He's cute."

"He thinks so too."

"What do I call you? I don't even know your name!"

"Janet."

"Nice name. New clothes?"

"I got tired of…"

"You don't have very many clothes do you?"

"Not until today. I bought this suit, a dress, two skirts, some slacks and shorts. Jeff wants me to go with him to that new club downtown tonight Sheryl!"

I blurted it out without thinking. Certainly, my image of myself wasn't one that gave me that much courage yet, and it sounded in my voice.

"Can I see your new dress?"

I went to get it, holding it up proudly so she could see it.

She said it's nice, but not the type of dress a girl would wear to a nightclub, then she asked me to come over to her place. I followed her, then waited in the small living room until she returned with a dress. Holding it up, she grinned at me. The dress she held up was black, a sleeveless sheath with a square cut neckline.

"Wear these with it Janet, and you'll knock'em dead!"

I took the dress, then, as I was walking out, Sheryl asked me what I used to control my waist.

"I don't use anything, why?"

"Wait a minute Janet, I have just the thing."

When she returned, she handed me a black corselet!

"I use it once in a while, for special occasions. You can get one of your own later. When you have it on, call me and I'll tighten it for you. "

I thanked her, then went back to my own place. I had a mental image of what Sheryl would look like naked, and since we are about the same size, I hoped I would look half as good. When I was securely locked in my apartment again, I undressed quickly, then went in the bath, filled the tub with hot water and bubblebath, then sank into the water. Using a razor, and taking my time, I shaved every bit of skin I could reach, then washed off my makeup and shaved as close as possible. When I stepped out of the tub I felt a chill as I went back into my bedroom to get ready. I owned one pair of black panties, and slipped them on before I sat at my makeshift vanity to do my makeup. When I was done, I attached the breastforms again and wrapped the corselet around myself and fastened the hooks up the front. Then I called Sheryl, who came right over. She yanked and tugged while I groaned and panted, then she tied the laces while I stared in the mirror.

"That gives you a nice figure Janet, that dress will look great on you."

"Thanks. Listen, why don't you come along? You think Jeff is cute, and I'm his…sister I guess. He won't mind a bit, I promise."

"Well, okay, but you'll have to come over and make my laces tight for me. Give me about half an hour."

She left and I finished dressing. I pulled the pantyhose on, then the padded pantybrief, stepped into my shoes and slipped the dress over my head, zipping it up, then checked my meager supply for the right earrings. After I put on my lipstick I went next door, found Sheryl, and laced her in tight. As the stays drew her waist in, her boobs began to rise, filling the cups of the bra quite nicely. My image of her naked was getting better. Of course, she looked very pretty. I looked into her mirror, trying to grin at myself. I wanted to cry instead.

Sheryl must have sensed that, because she put her arm around me and hugged me tight.

"I'll bet that some guy will hit on you tonight Janet, but I'll be there with you. If you don't want to do something, then don't. Your brother isn't about to let anything happen to you, so quit worrying so much."

We went back to my apartment, waiting for Jeff to show up. That's when she and I talked about myself, as Janet. All of my fears and so on came out, as well as how I viewed myself. When I told her I thought I was plain looking as a woman, she actually laughed at me! It was my view of myself, and she was laughing!

"Janet! Do you know how many women look like you do? No? Well most of us do. Not many women are fashion models. Some of the prettiest girls are so stuck on themselves that the guys avoid them, others look good because some artist has a good airbrush.

Most of us are ordinary women, just hoping to meet the right guy, settle down and raise a family. In fact, most guys are afraid to approach those so called knock out girls because they're afraid of being turned down! That's why I'm willing to bet that more than one guy hits on you tonight. You're their kind of girl."

Just then Jeff knocked on the door. I let him in, then introduced him to Sheryl. He saw the way we were both dressed and didn't say a word, but he did usher us both out and to his car. Over dinner it was obvious to anyone that looked, that he couldn't tear his eyes away from Sheryl. I was very concerned that someone would read me, but nobody was even looking at me strangely, and I managed to rein in my rampant fear of discovery. Jeff treated me just as he would any woman, which felt very strange. Growing up we were always in some kind of contest. Now he's acting as if we grew up brother and sister. He had a table reserved at the club, which was on the lower of two decks. We sat down, ordered drinks, and had just relaxed when Jeff asked Sheryl to dance, leaving me all alone. That lasted about two minutes. My first contact with a man, as a woman, came that night. Steve came over, asked me to dance, and would not take no for an answer he said, so I reluctantly swallowed my fear and joined him.

It turned out to be very easy to follow him, and I enjoyed the luxury of being wanted by someone, even if it was just to dance. Steve asked me my name and so on, the mentioned that Jeff and I looked a lot alike. When I told him he was my brother, his eyes lit up, and I was graced with a wide smile. It was obvious, even to me, that he liked the way I looked. But he thought he was with a girl, and of course, I'm not. I relished the idea that he liked the way I looked because it reinforced what Sheryl had told me. I was beginning to understand that plain is normal. He walked me back to the table where I introduced him to Sheryl and Jeff, then Jeff invited him to join us! I glanced at Sheryl, and she winked at me! As the night went on, Steve began to hold me tighter when we danced, his hands tight around my waist. I was getting in deeper and deeper as I felt myself wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by a man. Steve settled that for me.

He said my name and I looked up, which is when his lips touched mine. Just a touch, yet it sent a bolt through me that made me shiver. After that he merely held me as we swayed back and forth to the sound of the music. None of this escaped Sheryl's eagle eye, and as soon as we returned to the table she took my hand and headed for the ladies room.

"See! I told you that guys would find you attractive!"

"He kissed me!"

"I saw that! I'll bet he asks if he can take you home Janet."

"But…but I can't! What if he wants to…"

"Honey, they all want to, but we can say no. Just say no, kiss him good night and let him go!"

"What about Jeff?"

"I don't think Jeff is worried about you at the moment Janet, he wants to get into my panties, just like Steve wants to get into yours.

I think they'll both be disappointed tonight, don't you?"

Steve did ask to take me home, and almost said no when I saw Sheryl shaking her head yes. Steve and I left first. On the way over to my apartment he asked me for my number, so I gave him one of the cards I had printed up. All it had on it is my name and number. When we stood at the doorway, he whisked me into his arms and kissed me again, this time it was a lot more than a mere touch, and my body responded to him. As his tongue flicked into my mouth I felt myself melting into him, trying to become one. As I broke away, I smiled and went inside. Every part of me was quivering with excitement. I went into my bedroom and slowly undressed, wondering what it would be like to do the very same thing, but with him in the room with me. The images of myself as a female popped up again, and lasted until I was standing there in my panties. The full reality fell on me again, and I went in to wash off the makeup with a heavy heart.

As I lay in bed the images in my mind began to change, from one of lonely experimentation and frustrating failures to those that cast me as a woman someone wanted to be with. The biggest problem? I'm still a male, and unless I was willing to change my entire life, any relationship I have as a woman cannot culminate in anything more than tears, and possibly anger or violence. Facing the truth is hard at any time. Only Sheryl and my brother know the truth. How would they react if I decided to begin some kind of relationship with someone like Steve? How would I react? I finally escaped into the land of dreams, waking about ten the next morning, still tired from all the mental exertion. I made some coffee, then sat on the couch just listening to the soft jazz in the background.

As I sat there sipping the coffee, I looked down at the breastforms and let my hand rise to touch one of them. Warm and soft, pliable, and with a bra on, almost like the real thing. I went into put some clothes on, deciding on the shorts and a top with my gym shoes. My hair was mussed up from sleeping on it, but using a brush I managed to make it look passable. I did not wear any makeup, preferring to let my beard grow out some before I shaved again. That's how I was dressed when Sheryl knocked on the door. I let her in, poured some coffee, then we sat at the small kitchen table.

"Steve looked like he was very interested in you last night Janet."

"He is, but what about it? I can't do what he expects. He thinks I'm a woman, and I'm not."

"There are a lot of ways a woman can keep a man interested without that Janet. Just think about it."

"Oh, I know that, but sooner or later he will want more. Then what?"

She did not have an answer for me, but she did encourage me to be myself, then do what I think is right. That's when I mentioned Jeff. I wasn't sure how he would react to having me become his sister. He is all the family I have, and I certainly can't lose him!

"Listen dummy. He saw you then asked you out to dinner didn't he?"

"Yes,"

"Well figure it out! He told me last night that he was glad that you finally found the nerve to find out about yourself. He said that you've been playing at this since you were kids, and he was, quite frankly, ready to tell you to just do it and get it over with. He's not made at you Janet, he's proud of you. That's why he and Steve had a little talk last night while we were in the ladies room."

"What! What did he tell Steve?"

"He told Steve that he would be very unhappy if he hurt you in any way. Your brother was acting just like a big brother should when his little sister is involved, and that my dear is you."

"He never said…I mean, I didn't think that anyone would find me attractive, and now you're telling me that Jeff is becoming protective of me?"

"Yup."

"I'll be damned!"

"Janet, you two are the only family you have. Why wouldn't he support you?"

Then she told me to go put some makeup on because Jeff and Steve were coming over at two for some late lunch at her house.

"Wear what you have on, it's a casual day and we can all relax a little."

She left, and I went in and took a shower, then shaved as close as possible before I put on some makeup. I decided to wear just foundation and powder with some blusher and lipstick. The hard part is the hair. Or at least I though so. Jeri had cut it in a way that as soon as the hot air from the blow dryer hit it, the hair almost fell into place. I brushed it out, spritzed it with hair spray, and got dressed, again in the shorts and top. Then I drove over to the grocery and picked up a small cake and some wine. Nobody even bothered to look me over close. I guess I fit in with the few Sunday morning shoppers, but I was a wreck by the time I walked over to Sheryl's apartment. I got there early, maybe half an hour, and she and I set out our treats.

"Relax! Steve is just coming over so that you two can learn more about each other, that's all! Jeff and I will be here the whole time!"

"I'm scared Sheryl, but this is exactly what I dreamed of in the past! Now that it's happening I feel antsy about it. Compared to you, I an ugly duckling!"

"But the ugly duckling turned out to be a swan, remember?"

"I'm not a swan Sheryl, this is as good as it gets."

"Oh…I don't think so."

Before I could respond the knock was at the door, and she let Jeff and Steve in. Both of them had a stupid grin on their face, Jeff looking at Sheryl, Steve at me. Jeff kissed Sheryl, and Steve kissed me, then Sheryl and I set out the table. During our light lunch, I felt a hand on my leg. Unwilling to make a scene, I let it stay there. Besides, it felt good. Then Jeff mentioned that the game was on, so Sheryl flicked on the television and we sat on the two small couches, Almost at once Steve had his arm around me. Knowing that I was safe, I leaned back on him and simply watched the game with him. He and Jeff were animated when our team screwed up, once so much that Sheryl and I simply got up and went into the kitchen, then, when she took my arm, into her bedroom.

"Jeff is going to stay a while Janet, maybe you and Steve can watch the game at your place?"

"But he'll think…"

"That Jeff is a lucky man. Just remember what I told you. If there's a limit, then set it and make it stick. Guys are used to limits, but we have to hold them to it. Just remember, that their sole function in life is to get into our panties and you'll be okay."

I was sure that Jeff is a lucky man. Sheryl has a lot to offer. Me? I'm less sure of myself than I was just a few days ago. It took me almost twenty years to enter a mall dressed as a woman, and in less than a few days I now have a guy interested in me! Jeff must have said something to Steve because he was waiting for me, smiling again. I kissed Jeff on the cheek, my first time as his sister. He smiled and told me he would be right there.

In my apartment I turned on the television, tuning in the game, hoping that Steve would simply watch it. You'd think I would learn wouldn't you? The minute the game was on he swept me into his arms and kissed me, holding me tightly, his hand in the middle of my back slowly moving up and down. When he let me go I was panting and he was smiling. I sat on the couch so I wouldn't fall against him. His move came during halftime. While we watched the game I reviewed what I wanted out of life. Could I become the woman he thinks I am? Would I try to become that woman, and prove it with Steve? All of my answers came back yes, so when he kissed me again I submitted. His hand slowly and gently pushed against my breast, but as he tried to slide it under my top I stopped him. Then, quick as a fox, he managed to release the hooks on my bra! My boobs didn't fall out or off of course, so with some minor gyrations, I hooked it back up. After that, his hands found my legs and back, breasts and stomach, all while his tongue was deep in my mouth. I knew that he was ready, and desperately wanted to take me to bed, but I could not let that happen, so I pushed him away. He didn't say anything, but I know he was disappointed. He tried it again, after the game, and I almost gave in this time, but my better senses prevailed. By the time he left I no longer felt like plain Janet. I wasn't a raving beauty by any means, but I now had a confidence unknown before. That night the images in my mind were not so stark, or filled with fear and loathing. I had a picture of myself as a bride.

In the morning, much to my disgust, I had to become myself when I went to work. During the day I found it hard to concentrate as my minds eye kept taking me back to that wide smile Steve gave me, and then, the way he tasted and smelled, how his hands felt when he touched me. I was a wreck by the time I got home, and as quickly as possible I changed into a skirt and blouse, which was a small consolation to the way I felt. Jeff came over later, after dinner, and we had a chat, clearing the air between us so to speak. When I asked him why he said nothing when he first saw me as Janet, he surprised me when he said that I might as well be his sister, rather than a piss poor brother!

"Why do you say that?"

"Because its true. When we were in high school and I saw you dressed up, wearing the old gown of Grandma's, I thought you looked really good. I wanted to tell you that at the time but just couldn't. Since then, we both know that you have been dressing up as often as you can. I think it's time you became the real you."

"Huh?"

"When we were in school, did you ever try out for any team? No. Hell, you took Home Ec. instead of gym! Just how many guys took that class with you? Never mind. It was zero. Just you. That's when I knew that sooner or later you were going to become my sister. All I had to do was wait, and here you are."

"I'm not a very good sister Jeff."

"I think you underestimate yourself Janet, but you're trying, and that's all that's important. Even Steve thinks that you’re a very nice girl. In fact, I'll bet he tried to get into your panties, didn't he?"

"Well…"

"Don't tell me. I don't want to know. I just came by to tell you that I'm nearby if you need me. That's what big brothers are for."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek as he left, and he hugged me. I also talked to Sheryl on the phone, but she was kind enough not to ask for any details about Steve and I. After two days, much like that one, my boss called me into her office. I knew that I was in for an ass chewing, and frankly, I deserved it.

"Care to tell me what the problem is?"

"No...I can't."

"You have always been the person with the highest rating in the office. You have the best record for attendance plus the highest rating. So far this week you've been in the basement. Your moody and curt with everyone, all of which tells me there is a problem. All I want to do is help you. Are you sure you can't tell me?"

My boss is a woman named Valerie. She's about 50 but looks a lot younger. She is single now, after her husband died recently. In all the time I had dreamed of being a female, working, and living as a woman was always high on my never happen list. How could I tell her that I wanted to become a woman? I need this job. What if she went crazy on me and I got fired? I just looked at her as these thoughts ran through my mind in a flash, already rehearsed in my dreams. But if she did fire me, I did have a standing offer at our competitor if I had to use it, if it was still there that is. The pay was a bit less, but…

"Maybe you can tell me why you smell like Chanel perfume once in a while."

My eyes popped open as she smiled at me. I could have said I have an active sex life, but my tongue, while able to say the words, wasn't getting the message from my brain. I froze up instead.

"I can't have you continue to act like this, so I want you to tell me what's going on, and how I can help."

I looked into her clear blue eyes one last time, ready to quit if I had too.

"Well?"

Then, thinking about what Jeff and my Grandfather had told me, and without any more thought, I blurted it out.

"I want to become a woman. I want to be able to live and work as a woman."

There was a long pause, and I stood up, ready to clear out my desk. I had defeated myself. I saw it in her face.

"I'll clean out my desk now. You can send my check."

"Sit down. I didn't fire you."

I remained standing, ready to leave.

"How many women work here?"

"Seven."

"And how many men?"

"One."

"That's right. You are the only man here. Our office is geared for women. The layout, the color of the office and even the restrooms. I can't see a problem here. In fact, I think you'll fit in with the rest of us nicely. We can even use the men's room if the other gets crowded."

She stood up and came to me, took my hands in hers and smiled at me.

"I want you to go home and relax today. But in the morning I expect to see… who?"

"Janet."

"I'll expect to see you at your desk in the morning Janet. I'll talk to the rest of the girls today, but in the morning I want to see you at your desk, doing what you do best. Frankly, I'm relieved you told me. I thought it was something with one of us. Now go."

I went to my desk, locked up, then, as I started to leave, I saw Valerie walking around, gathering the others into the conference room. She was about to impart my secret to everyone. All I could do was hope for the best, or quit and continue to suffer. By the time I got home I was in such turmoil that I could hardly manage anything. Valerie had told me to come to work as Janet! Now all I had to do was get ready. I had to wear the suit of course. It looked the best on me, and I wanted to make a good first impression on everyone. I could have worn a skirt and blouse, but I liked the suit, and where else would I wear it anyway? I checked my supply of hair remover, saw It was low, so I went to the drugstore and restocked, then went home. I'll admit it. I spent a leisurely day, first removing all traces of body hair, then a long hot bubblebath. My skin felt so soft, like warm silk against your face. Then I made a small dinner. Watching television was a futile effort at best, as those pesky images kept invading my mind. I was worried that one, or maybe more, of the women in our office would turn ugly on me. By the time I went to bed I was very keyed up.

I got up early, exhausted from worry, and started with a shower, shaving as close as possible, then pulled on a pair of panties and started on my makeup. Most of the women in the office wear at least some makeup, but I had to wear a bit more, so I wore foundation and powder, then pastel eyeshadow in shades of light green and gray with black eyeliner with coral blusher. Then I started on my hair. Using a gel, which I rubbed into my hair, I used the blow dryer to make it fluffier, then the brush to create a very simple pageboy. It was the best I could manage. It took me another twenty minutes to get ready, then finally, I put on some lipstick. The earrings were simple gold hoops, my watch a cheap gold expandable band women's watch. The very last thing I did was add a bit of perfume. I put everything I thought I would need in my purse, then opened the door to the future.

Just as I was about to get into my car, I saw Sheryl walk out of her apartment and wave at me. When I stood up to wave back, she saw how I was dressed. I did not stay to chat, but drove to work, stopping at the donut shop for my usual coffee. Sandy, the girl that works there knows me well, but that day, she didn't give me one sign of recognition. I took the coffee, and went on to work. I was okay until I pulled into the parking lot. Then I got nervous. All my life I had assumed that if anyone saw me dressed as a woman, they would tear me apart. Sure, I gained some respect with my brother, Sheryl and Steve, this is different. I sat there for a moment, then dragging myself out of the car, I started for the door. As I went in, the first person I saw was Jill. She is bigger than I am, wears her hair in a very short cut, and has a girlfriend. She let us think what we like. Always smiling, she was easy to be around and I liked her. She and I were face to face for a moment before she spoke to me.

"Damn girl! You look good! Not like some I've seen that's for sure."

"Thanks, I think."

"Hang in there…Janet, it'll be fine."

Jill and I walked in together, then went to our desks. The sign on my cube had a new name on it. Janet, done in a nice script, white against the mauve background. I sat at my desk, seemingly unnoticed by the other few that had arrived, and sipped on my coffee as I fired up the computer. Valerie stopped by once, to hand me a new assignment, but all she did was say I looked nice and drifted away. When it was time for lunch, as is the usual, everyone went into the conference room. I waited, then got up to join them, ready to leave if I had to. As I walked in, they all stood up and applauded! All of them were smiling at me. It was too much for my system to handle. All my life I had wanted to do just this. Life and work as a woman, then maybe, eventually, actually become a woman. I never expected any if it to actually happen, and now that it had, and my coworkers accepted me, I started to cry.

"Janet."

I looked up and saw Gretchen, the oldest woman there, walk over to me. She took my hands in hers for a moment, then hugged me to her. Valerie is the boss, but Gretchen is the den mother so to speak. All of the girls talked to her about various things. As she held me, I remembered the times my Grandmother held me. When she spoke in my ear, softly, she spoke the same words my Grandmother did.

"You are what God made you to be honey. Just enjoy it now that you've found it."

he others all greeted me, some with more warmth than the others, but no recriminating stares or comments. Accepted by all it seemed, yet I never did relax that day. Sheryl came over that night to chat, and I told her I had started to work as a woman. All she did was ask me if Steve had called! I wore that suit the next day, then a skirt and blouse the next two. On Friday I wore slacks and a top with flats. Now, I fit in with the rest of the staff. That was when I realized just how far I had traveled in this journey. From a scared little boy that had only his dreams of being a girl, to the young woman I saw in the morning every day. In my heart I knew that I could not give up now, never. I saw Steve twice more before I decided to give in to my selfish desire to become a woman. At work, I fit in, becoming one of the girls, they treated me that way, and now, I wanted to prove it to myself. During the week I went shopping, looking for exactly the right outfit, and found it. That Friday, when Steve came to pick me up, I opened the door wearing it. The soft material flowed over me, the sheer black nylon hinting at, but not revealing much. I wore a black bra and panties under the robe, black heels and a black ribbon around my neck.

Steve took one look at me and grinned, then, as soon as the door was closed and clocked, he took me into his arms. I did not resist him in any way, but took him by the hand to the couch and sat next to him. He reached out and pulled the simple string, releasing the bow at my neck and the robe fell open. It was obvious that he was ready, and without a word I unzipped his pants, released the buckle, and his manhood stood out. I was in unfamiliar territory now, but urgency guided me as my hand reached out and I touched him. The was a defining moment for me. I had just touched another male. Without thought my hand began to stroke him, then I slipped to the floor at his feet, ready to prove my worth as a woman. I looked down, saw it, then, without a thought I accepted him, as much as I could. His hands fell to my head as I ministered to his needs, my hand still firmly grasping him. All at once he bucked, then he filled me. I waited until he was done, then sat back smiling at him.

Standing up I went in the kitchen and poured out two glasses of champagne. He took it, we clinked glasses, and I swallowed it all at once. Standing up he drew me to him, his hands on my bottom, and I knew what he wanted, yet I could not do it. I wanted to, but I lacked the right equipment. I held him off for a moment, but he was stronger than I, and as he carried me to the bedroom I knew that I had to make him understand, without hurting me. He set me down on the bed and stood back, smiling. "Steve…I…can't do this." He began to remove his clothes, the shirt first. His hard muscled chest, hairy and dark looked wide and strong. His pants hit the floor with a thud, and he stepped out of his shoes. My heart was racing a mile a minute, pounding with a new excitement, and I understood what so many women have felt before me.

"Steve…"

"I know, I'll be gentle."

Then he slipped the robe from my shoulders, leaving me in my bra and panties. His hand found the back clasp, and all at once my bra fell away, revealing my breastforms. He said nothing as he pushed me on my back and began to kiss me.

Talented at seducing women, Steve turned me on like a light, then shaded and brightened it. His mouth found all sorts of places that made me writhe in pleasure, then his hand fell on my groin. With a flick of his finger my panties sailed across the room as his hand found my own maleness. Later, as I lay there panting, my arms firmly wrapped around him, I felt complete. Steve had accepted what I had to offer him without a word. My fingers traced across his chest, making him purr. Then my hand found him, and I rolled him on his back. He lay there as I attended to his needs again. I got up, put my panties back on, then some jeans and a top, brushed out my hair and added some lipstick while he showered. I never felt more like a woman then right then, and like any housewife anywhere, I began to fix him a meal. He stayed with me that night, and he proved to me that I was a woman in my heart and soul.

On Monday I began the treatments. The long road of fragmented images that defined my life were now one. Steve and I dated for another six months, then he was transferred. Sheryl and Jeff were dating all of the time now, and it looked like she would be part of our small family real soon. At work the initial shock at seeing me dressed as a woman has faded, and now Gretchen wants me to meet her grandson! Valerie is being promoted soon, and we are all wondering who her replacement will be. I think it'll be Jill. Butch or not, she has what it takes. I no longer have any male clothes at all now. I gave them away after Steve and I…, well, I threw them away, while expanding my own small wardrobe. Hopefully by summer I will be able to wear that cute little swimsuit I have. My image of myself has changed. From a plain woman to that of an attractive woman. Not that I'm any raving beauty, but I have a lot to offer a man, and will, as soon as I meet him.

No matter what image you have of yourself, it's probably wrong. Take my word for it. Try looking from a different angle. Maybe you'll see the girl of his dreams, not yours.

 

 

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