I would like to thank Anyport for his permission to write this sequel to his story, The Transformation, and use the characters he created. I would like to thank Tigger for allowing me to include a guest appearance by his character, "Aunt" Jane Thompson. I would especially like to thank Steve Zink for editing such a very long story for me.

This story was written to stand on its own. If you would like to read Anyport's story first; it's available both on Fictionmania and StorySite.

While there is some strong language in this story, there are no explicit sex scenes and all the characters are adults. However, if you are under eighteen or offended by transgendered material, don't read this story. This story may be posted on any free site.

 

I'm Baaack!

by Jezzi Belle Stewart
©2002 Turn Right Productions

Part 2

 

Chapter 6: Interlude With Enemies and Friends

Louise Edwards, behind her Art Deco desk in her office at Transformation Systems, leaned back in her designer chair, set down her cup of coffee - black, regular, thank you - and looked with satisfaction through her open door at her secretary seated at his desk in the outer lobby. Not "his" much longer - Robert, now responding almost automatically to Robbie, was coming along quite nicely.

She and her partner, Edwina Porter, had almost drooled when Robert Saunders had applied for the job as Louise's personal assistant and secretary. Both ladies believed that it indicated a certain, shall we say, less than masculine mind set for a man to apply for a secretarial job, even in these enlightened days of the new millennium; anything to the contrary was just feminist propaganda, they believed. So, even though at 6'1" and two hundred, twenty-five pounds he was larger than their usual "project," they believed that he, with his androgynous facial features and long honey blonde hair, would be a natural for their special "Big Beautiful Woman" program. They hired him on the spot.

They had instantly agreed that Robert was the best since Ross, and that with the proper guidance, "Robbie" could bring in as much or more than Rose had through their friend Joan's little auction. There had been three men turned into "ladies with something extra" since Ross/Rose, but, while each had turned a nice profit for Lou and Ed, none had brought in anywhere near what Rose had.

She smiled as she watched Ed approach Robbie, and whisper something in his ear. Robbie's smile lit up the room, and he unconsciously reached up and patted his hair in a feminine gesture that every woman since Eve had used at one time or another. The day before they had cajoled Robbie into having his hair done at their favorite salon - "Just a trim, hon," they had told him, "you're looking a little ragged." The stylist had done a lot more than just a trim. She had set his straight blonde hair in rollers and then combed it out into a wavy, obviously feminine style, adding highlights; Lou and Ed, sitting on either side of him, had used their hands to make sure that he enjoyed himself and associated the process with sensual pleasure. At the same time, they had joked and kidded with him so that he felt that what was being done was being done in the spirit of good fun among friends. When they'd left, besides his new hairdo, his fingernails and toenails had been shiny with clear polish; they still were.

This was coming along almost too easily! His hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail, but what a different ponytail! Instead of being straight, greasy, and lank, the hair was curled, full and shiny. With those curled bangs he hadn't realized he couldn't make go away, he looked adorable. All the dumb blonde jokes, Lou thought, had been proved by the fact that they had been able this morning to convince him he still looked masculine!

Ha!

Ed left Robbie and came into Lou's office, closing the door behind her. "I put the order in for the Rolls today," she said, dropping into the seat across from Lou and crossing her shapely legs. Both women were in their mid-thirties, but still looked like twenty-somethings; but, then, they'd spent a lot - A LOT - of money to look that way. "The dealer told me a two months wait; ought to have the cash from Sissy out there just about that time. He's a sweetie, and very soon she'll be a sweetie, and then we clean up! Almost as much as for Rose, I'm thinking."

Lou laughed. "You and I make a great team, Ed. Watching you two just now, I was thinking the same thing. I think he actually likes his new hair; sure doesn't seem very embarrassed about it. He may even be more of a natural than Rose."

"AND," commented Ed, "he's even more fun in bed. He's rather well hung, don't you think? More so than Rose, even. AND I actually enjoy his company out of bed. Just like we did with Rose. I actually have missed Rose from time to time. I often wonder how she's getting on with Adain."

"Me, too." Lou leaned back and took another sip of her coffee. She waved at the pot, and Ed got up and poured herself a cup. As she added cream and sugar, Lou shook her head. "When are you going to stop with the sissy coffee, and drink it straight like a real woman!"

"Ooh, aren't we butch today!" laughed Ed, smoothing her gray skirt under her as she sat. "I still chuckle every time I think of that last Friday night with Rose." She took a sip.

"Joan said they really scared the hell out of her, after we left!" Lou smiled.

"And getting Adain and Salielah to play along was a stroke of genius," added Ed. "Sure made her be Joan's good girl, though, and brought in some extra green for us." She paused. "Might have been interesting, though, to see poor ROSS" - she deliberately used the male name - "with triple-G breasts and a harelip!"

Both women laughed. "Oh, you are the nasty one, Ed. Ross was a really nice guy, and we had a lot of fun with him and later with Rose. I, for one, hope he's happy with Adain and Salielah. I haven't heard anything since Joan's report of her six weeks follow up call to Adain. Both he and Salielah were happy with her at that time." She lifted her coffee mug. "Here's to Rose. You made us a bundle, girl; I hope you're happy!"

Clinking her cup with Lou's, Ed responded, "To Rose - and, for another couple of mil for us, to Robbie!"

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Out in the lobby, Robbie took a mirror from her - for that's how she was thinking of herself now - drawer and looked at her face and hair. She LOVED her new hair! And it didn't cost her a penny! It was so nice to have two sugar momma's like Lou and Ed; they were a lot of fun, were teaching her a lot of girl stuff, and they paid for just about everything! She hoped they'd start teaching her makeup soon, and she couldn't wait to get boobs and get into skirts and dresses.

She had realized right from the first pair of panties what Lou and Ed were up to, and she'd sensed immediately on the first silky touch that this was what she was meant to be. Good-bye, Robert! She was playing along with the frustrating slow pace, because she liked Lou and Ed and didn't want to spoil their fun. She sensed that they liked it if she appeared a little reluctant and scared, but it was hard to pretend that.

She had come across the word "shemale" on the Internet just the other day, and had immediately felt an affinity with that title. She knew that Lou and Ed were slipping her hormones, and had even checked with her doctor on the sly to make sure they would give her a respectable bustline and hips without affecting her sexually. Those two sly tricksters! She'd just play along as if she didn't know what was going on. She glanced around. No one was watching, so she reached up and let her fingertips gently brush her just recently sensitive nipples, and soon was in the throws of an intense female orgasm. She knew tonight she would experience both that, and a male orgasm. No nasty operation "down there" for her; she was gonna have the best of both worlds! ...Wasn't she?

The only worry she had was her size. She was going to be a BIG girl, and, even though she thought she would be cute, she was smart enough to realize that self perception could be deceiving. What if she turned out to be an ugly girl, an unpassable girl? She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, took another admiring look in her compact mirror, and got back to work.

She'd have a few glasses of White Zinfandel at the Wine Bar after work to give her a little buzz for the evening's activities.

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Dr. Joan Adkins entered her luxury Marina Towers apartment. She slipped out of her coat, letting it fall to the floor, kicking off her shoes at the same time. As she passed into the living room, she undid her scarf, pulled it off and dropped it on the coffee table, then headed to the bar. She poured herself a double of Jack Daniels, neat, downed it in one swift movement, and poured herself another, this time adding several ice cubes. She carried this one over to her favorite chair and set it on the small tray table to her right. The table was a tray held by a three foot buxom young lady in a French Maid's outfit. Looking at it, she chuckled; she had seen it in the window of The Bombay Company last year, and had purchased it because it reminded her of the fate of many of her "special girls."

She herself treasured Yvonne, her own maid. Yvonne was a real woman, and a maid by choice; she was well paid, and Joan considered her worth every penny. While Joan would have relished the opportunity to dominate and humiliate one of her forced shemale maids, she did not give in to temptation. She did not want one of her creations so close to her that there might be questions asked, connections made. There was small chance of that, she believed, but why take chances at all? Besides, for what she could make from one of her pets, she could hire fifty Yvonnes, even well paid as Yvonne was.

Joan relaxed, and sank into her chair. She sighed. Three boob jobs and one eye job today. The boobs were easy, but the eye job had been tricky and had taken five hours - a twelve hour day. All legitimate, though; none of the fun of putting an unwilling male under the knife!

Damn, Yvonne had her time off at the most inconvenient times! Normally, she would have been greeted at the door with a drink while her coat and scarf would have been taken and immediately hung up. She reached forward wearily and pulled her laptop off the coffee table into, where else, her lap. She flipped it open and immediately went to her secure email site. There was one email; it was from Transformation Systems, and had an attached photo.

Dear Joan,

Robbie is coming along nicely, as you can see by the attached pic taken by hidden camera. We actually all had a good time getting his hair done yesterday. Isn't it lovely - and he still thinks he looks masculine! Are we good, or what?! Ed and I both think the end of next month; we think she should bring as much or more than Rose did.

Hugs, Lou

Joan rather liked Lou and Ed, in a business sort of way. They took the same kind of pleasure in reducing their masculine prey into demure, submissive shemales as she did, and were just as ruthless. And they always produced quality goods. Sometimes they got a little overconfident, as this email seemed to indicate, but she could deal with that. All-in-all, it was a good partnership. And Robbie WAS pretty, and with a little help from her, would be gorgeous. Yes, she should bring a pretty penny, and she had buyers lined up ready to bid for her. Maybe she should contact Adain Ben Hariesh; there had been no word on Rose, and he might be looking for a replacement. She pulled a small pad of paper over, and jotted down a memo to herself.

Feeling much refreshed, Joan closed the laptop, picked up the latest issue of Oprah's magazine, and lost herself in banality for a short while. She found herself humming "Take a Walk on the Wild Side."

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As he did every day, although with decreasing hope each time, Adain logged on to the special site dedicated to the search for Rose. Nothing. He really hadn't expected anything; it had been over a year now, after all, but he just couldn't give up hope. Rose had changed his life in so many ways, all for the good, and he had fallen in love with her. When he had started out with her for the hospital that day, all that had been running through his mind had been, *What if she dies? What if she dies?* And she had, and he blamed himself.

He had been meaning to have his engineers check the bridge over the gorge. Several visitors had remarked on how it had swayed when they drove over it. He just hadn't gotten around to it, and it had collapsed on that fateful day. He suspected that the extra weight of the armor plate and bulletproof glass on the Mercedes had done it. His father had ordered it in the bad old days when his country had been wracked by unrest, and anybody rich had been a target. Times had changed, and normally he never used it. On that day, however, it happened to be the first car he reached, and haste was uppermost in his mind.

As the car slid off the collapsing bridge, he, not having taken the time to fasten his seatbelt, had been thrown clear. He had managed to twist himself into dive position and hit the water cleanly; Allah be praised, it had been deep at that point. After that he'd had to fight just to keep himself alive, and he had finally lost consciousness believing he was going to die. He awoke to Salielah giving him mouth to mouth resuscitation on the river bank about half a mile downstream from the bridge. His first word had been, "Rose?"

Salielah had told him that there was no sign of Rose. Later that same day, the car had been dragged from the river, and, of course, there had been no body in it. In the weeks and months that followed, they had launched and directed a massive search effort, but there had been no word. Rose was missing, presumed dead.

They had refused to give up. Adain had contacted Dr. Adkins and gotten a picture of Ross, and that and Rose's picture had been put out on the Internet. Rewards had been offered. Nothing. And Adain was on the point of closing down the www.rosereward.com site.

Salielah came into the room to see her beloved brother sitting at the computer, head in hands. She came up behind him and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "I miss her, too," she said softly, "but it's time. Pull the plug, Ad. We'll treasure the memories of the time we had with her."

With a sigh, Adain typed in the command that deleted the site. But just as he was reaching to execute the command, the beep that indicated incoming mail went off, a beep that, on that setting, could indicate email from only a handful of people who had access to their secure site. It usually meant "Open this right NOW!" Adain opened the message; it was short and succinct:

"Dainie, help! Chicago. vgjoyce@vaingirls.com on a secure line, upon arrival. Do it like I showed you."

"Dainie?" Huge smiles of joy appeared on the faces of Adain and Salielah as they turned to face each other. Only one person not in that room Knew about Dainie. Rose! They hugged. Rose was alive! They pulled apart, and the smiles faded. Rose was alive, but needed their help. Salielah turned toward the door. "You get the tickets. I'll pack for us." Adain nodded, and began typing as Salielah went to pack. Rose was alive!

Chapter 7: Reunited And It Feels So Good

A happy, confident, definitely Rose Rose had walked through the door of Vaingirls. She had shopped the Loop, and left her androgynous clothes in the dressing room of Marshall Fields as trash. Newly unbound breasts, and nether regions encased in the sexiest lingerie Victoria's Secret had to offer, wearing a zebra pattern short skirted suit over a lacy cami, sporting cream hose and white pumps with three-inch heels, accessorized with a sliver and black watch and black and white combination necklace, earrings and bracelet all bought at Fields, she had treated herself to a makeover at Fields' salon because something just HAD to be done about her hair. Somewhere along the way, the last fading ghost of Ross wished her well, and disappeared entirely. Exiting Fields with newly highlighted permed hair and flawless makeup, she looked, she thought, as she remembered an old Saturday Night Live, MAHVELOUS.

She felt absolutely feminine, and thought about treating the people sharing State Street with her to an enthusiastic rendition of "I Feel Pretty." She felt empowered, and cherished the anger she'd nurtured against Edwina, Louise, and Joan for so long. She remembered her Kipling, and remembered how Ross had ridiculed it when forced to read it in high school. How wrong he'd been; she knew it now, could feel it now, and soon The Three Bitches would know it too: "The female of the species IS more deadly than the male!"

When she entered Vaingirls, nobody was in the front of the store but Jessica behind the cash register, a relic of the 1930's that Joyce had been overjoyed to find at a rummage sale in Wilmette. Jessica did a double take, and then a big grin spread across her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but Rose put her finger to her lips for silence, and pointed to the back room, raising her eyebrows in question. Jessica nodded, gave her a thumbs up, and mouthed, "You go, girlfriend!" at her as she passed.

'What the hell?' Rose thought, and she twirled into the back room singing, "I Feel Pretty"!

The Group was all there: Joyce, Bethany, Elizabeth, Barbara, Steve, and a gorgeous blonde girl that Rose realized must be G.A.'s alter ego, Georgieann. None of them except Joyce had ever seen anything but an androgynous looking Ross. Everyone turned at the sound of her singing. Eyes went wide; mouths dropped open. Joyce and Bethany froze with coffee cups halfway to their mouths. Elizabeth actually dropped the Coke she was drinking; fortunately, it was almost empty. Barbara, in stranger danger reaction, moved her hand halfway to where, under her suit jacket, her compact Webley-Vickers semi-automatic rested in its shoulder holster, and then sheepishly lowered it. Steve was sitting on the windowsill, and would have fallen out if the window had been open wider; as it was, he banged the back of his head on the window frame. Ruefully rubbing it, he thought to himself that Ross hadn't believed he could have been Stephanie, and now he couldn't believe that the gorgeous creature singing and dancing through the room could have been Ross. Georgie Ann just put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

Jessica, having put a "closed" sign in the front door window, entered the room just as Rose was finishing, and led the applause. Georgieann spoke first. "Damnit, Rose, here I am, having gotten myself all beautified thinking I would surprise YOU, and now you've upstaged me! You BITCH!"

Rose twirled by her, giving her an air kiss kiss as she passed. The exchange caused a round of giggles from the ladies, accented by a deep rolling laugh from Steve. When the giggles had stopped and Rose had collapsed into a vacant chair, Bethany handed her a cup of coffee. Instead of the generic Vaingirls cup Ross had always gotten, this one had "Rose" on it in the beautiful feminine script. "We've been waiting ever so long to give you this, hon," she said. "Welcome to womanhood. Took you long enough, but you look MAHVELOUS!" She watched Saturday Night Live, too, apparently.

"Yes, apparently some decisions have been made," Joyce commented dryly. "Would you care to elucidate, ROSE?"

Before she explained, Rose went over and hugged Georgieann. "I've been wanting to meet you, hon. G.A.'s a hunk, and you're a hottie; talk about someone having the best of both worlds!" The two women hugged each other for real.

"Well, you're a hottie, too, Rose," Georgieann stepped back and looked her up and down, "but I imagine your two worlds have merged into one, and the hunk wannabe will not be returning. Am I right?"

"Yes, there was a last straw, illusion breaking look in the mirror this morning. After a year of trying, poor Ross realized he just looked like someone's kid sister tomboy, not a man, and he graciously yielded the whole playing field to me. He'll always be a part of me, and maybe he'll even give me a little testosterone rush every now and then when I need it, but Rose Thorn is here to stay, and I'm her. With Ross's blessing..." she dropped her Hiroshima, "...I want to schedule SRS!"

As the voices started to rise, she held up her hands for silence. "I'll explain later." She had a plan, but she didn't want to say anything till she'd talked to Adain. The plan was a doozey; Nagasaki was coming.

---------------------------------------------------------

Adain didn't like flying, even first class, and they had traveled coach. He especially didn't like big, crowded airports. So, naturally they landed at Chicago's O'Hare, "The World's Busiest Airport". At least there was no need to go to the baggage terminal, as they had only taken carry-on luggage. They were trying to keep a low profile, and Adain wasn't particularly happy about his disguise, while Salielah couldn't help but look over at "Dainie" and smirk every once in awhile. 'He looks adorable,' she thought, 'but not nearly as good as when Rose and I did him up that one weekend we caught him in The Maiden's Chair. Too bad I had to keep "her" somewhat mousy today.'

If she had only known Rose's plan, the smirk would have become a gargantuan smile.

Dainie was dressed in a white peasant blouse and ankle length denim skirt slit to the knee. She sported a rather small bustline, nondescript brown chin length hair, and minimal makeup. Sandals were on her feet, but no jewelry except for a cheap woman's watch - altogether nondescript, non-noticeable. Salielah had made herself look equally dowdy, but different enough so they wouldn't have the noticeability of sisters.

Adain was not sure which he found more annoying, the fact that he was dressed like a girl, or the fact that he was dressed like an unattractive one. It was all worth it, however, because ROSE WAS ALIVE, and he would have walked on air naked all the way from home if necessary!

They stopped at the first public Internet terminal they came to. Salielah logged on, and began to set up a secure - and very illegal - connection in the manner Rose had described to her; it was a good thing, she thought, that she had written down her directions at the time. She had reviewed and committed them to memory before they had left. With Dainie looking over her shoulder, she sent an email to vgjoyce@vaingirls.com: "We're here." After about five minutes, the "You've got mail" message flashed. All the message said was, "Take the Blue Line. Transfer to the Red Line north. Get off at Belmont, and walk east to Halsted. Walk north."

"What's the Blue Line?" Dainie asked, as Salielah got up.

"How should I know?" She shook her head. 'Men!' She stopped a man with an airport ID badge and asked him, "What's the Blue Line, and how do we find it?"

He informed her that the Blue Line was part of Chicago's public transportation system, and pointed out how to get to the terminal right there in the airport. Once at the terminal, it was not hard for the pair to figure out from the CTA wall map what Rose's directions meant.

As they boarded the train into the city where they could connect to the Red Line, they discussed what they should look for after they started walking north on Halsted. They figured Rose must have thought they'd know whatever it was when they saw it.

After they transferred to the Red Line and headed north again, Salielah noted with a giggle that Dainie was sitting very much like Adain with "her" legs wide apart, and that the middle aged beer gut across the aisle was getting a free beaver shot. She nudged Dainie, and nodded her head in the direction of Beer Gut. She giggled out loud this time at the horrified expression on her brother's artificially feminine face as "he" snapped "her" legs together. Beer gut gave "her" an unapologetic leer, and returned to his well worn copy of "D Cup" magazine. Dainie glared at Salielah, who just continued to grin, and the two rode to the Belmont exit in silence.

Throughout the "L" and subway system and on their walk down Belmont to Halsted, Dainie and Salielah were constantly aware of how clean Chicago was, compared to the cities of the Middle East. Independent of each other, they both vowed to try to convince the other that a move to the USA was in order, once matters with Rose were cleared up.

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Bethany was reclining on the lounge on the balcony at Vaingirls, armed with a two-year old picture of Adain and Salielah downloaded from the Tribune archives. Salielah looked absolutely gorgeous in a formal gown of electric blue, with her hair in an elegant updo; Adain, in a tuxedo, would have given Cary Grant a run for his money. Bethany was to watch for the two, and give warning to The Group and to an extremely nervous Rose.

Ever since the warning buzzer on the special computer geared only to vgJoyce@vaingirls.com had rung, Rose had been running on sheer nervous energy, with her long denied hormones in high gear. She hoped she could control herself enough to avoid throwing him down on the Vaingirls' carpet and having her way with him as soon as he walked through the door. Every time she had passed a mirror - and, being Vaingirls, there were plenty of them - she would find a few hairs out of place or a shiny spot on her face, and had stopped to primp.

In the back dressing room, there were clothes scattered all about the place, on the floor, on the radiator, hanging from the pole lamp, draped over the chairs, all evidence of Rose's frenzied search for the perfect I'm-sorry-I-let-you-think-I-was-dead-for-over-a-year outfit. She was currently dressed in pink accented Reboks, tight blue jeans, and a light pink scoop neck "T" with "Princess" in dark pink feminine script on it. She wore light makeup, and a pink scrunchie held her hair in a lightly curled pony tail high on the back of her head. Dainty rose earrings and a pink watch with a denim band were her only jewelry. Rose was twenty-seven, and looked seventeen. Had she stopped to think, the way she looked was perfect to melt Adain's heart, but, of course, she was beyond thinking.

Bethany paid only cursory attention to the two rather plain looking women entering through the front doors; 'Bride-to-be, and maid of honor,' she thought, and then turned her attention back to Halsted Street to catch the first glimpse of Adain and Salielah.

Rose had emerged from the back room to check out in the big main mirror what she hoped was THE dress for her reuniting with Adain. She heard footsteps, thought it was one of The Group, and turned to ask for an opinion.

Dainie and Salielah spotted the young girl with her back to them, and were just about to pass on to the cash register where Jessica was doing some paperwork when the girl turned. No, it couldn't be! Could it? COULD IT?????

Rose recognized Salielah immediately, and dropped the dress she was holding. But why did she look so, well, dowdy? And who was the other plain looking woman with her? No, it couldn't be! Could it? COULD IT?????

"OHMYGAWD!"

"OHMYGAWD!"

"OHMYGAWD!"

"Rose?"

"ROSE?"

"Salielah? Adain? ... Uh, Dainie?" ADAIN!!!"

Rose threw herself on the girlishly clad Adain, wrapping her legs and arms around him and planting her lips square on his; as their lipstick mingled, she snaked her tongue between his lips and he returned the favor. Salielah backed away with her hands up. She knew when three was a crowd. Jessica, her paperwork totally forgotten, stared open-mouthed at the three, but had the presence of mind to ring the security buzzer calling the rest of The Group from the back room.

After a full minute, Salielah figured the two had had enough time and joined the embrace. "What am I, chopped liver?" And Rose turned her head and kissed her full on the lips, too.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!"

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!"

"Oh, Rose!"

"Oh, oh, oh, oh..."

"Get a room, will you three?!" From all of The Group.

Rose broke out of the hug, and turned to see The Group. She paused a moment, catching her breath, then, "Guys, these are my friends..."

"Friends???" from The Group.

"Okay, really, really good friends. This is Salielah, and this is Adain, although I guess he's being she right now, so it's Dainie??" She turned questioningly to Adain. He nodded assent. "And we have to talk! Give us an hour." And she dragged Dainie into the back room, with Salielah following.

Immediately following the closing of the door, Bethany, who had thought she better report and had come down the outside stairway, walked in the front door. "No sign of Adain and Salielah yet," she said. "What's going on?" She became totally confused, and then indignant, when the rest of The Group burst out laughing. "What??"

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Inside the back room:

"I'm so sorry!"

"No, I'm so sorry!"

"We thought you..."

"I landed in the river..."

"Where? Who?"

"Istanbul. No idea."

"We searched and searched."

"Didn't want to be found."

"Didn't want to be found?"

"Not me. Ross."

"Ross?"

"Ross had to try to be himself again."

"???????"

"Look at me, dummy. He lost!"

"Oh, Rose!"

"Me, too, Rose!"

"Forgiven?"

"Oh, YES!"

Lots more three way kissing and hugging. A while later:

"Why Dainie?"

"Disguise."

"You were a lot cuter in the Maiden's Chair."

"Nondescript disguise."

"Well, you're still cute!"

"What am I, chopped liver?"

More kissing and hugging. A while later:

"Can I change?"

"Well, maybe a nicer skirt and better makeup."

"And we can do something with her hair."

"Girls!"

"Yes, girl?"

"Please?"

"Oh, all right. I want my friends to meet Adain, anyway."

"But, Rose, Dainie can come back..."

(SWAT)

"Ouch, Bro! I'll get you for that!"

"I LOVE you two!"

"I'm leaving. I think three's company for now."

They didn't tell her no.

More kissing hugging. Yet even later:

"What now?"

"Payback! Uh, Dainie...Adain. Uh, I have this plan..."

"Uh oh!"

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The hour was almost up, and The Group, waiting in the salon, had gotten used to the noises of passion coming indistinctly through the walls from the back room. Then the tone changed. A pleading feminine voice was heard, then silence for a short while, then what certainly sounded like "Yes, dear," followed by two toned feminine laughter.

Rose entered the salon, followed by a very male Adain dressed in a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a Chicago Bulls T-shirt Dainie had bought at the airport. "For her boyfriend," a grinning Salielah had told the cashier; she, having spruced up a bit, followed the other two.

"You've met Salielah and Dainie, now here's Adain Ben Hariesh, the man who bought me, and who I love very very much."

"But, I didn't kn..." from Adain.

Rose interrupted. "I know, dear. That's when I fell in love with you, that evening when I found that out, remember?" Not giving him a chance to reply, she turned to Salielah. "And I love you, too,'sis'. We'll talk more later, okay?"

"Okay," from both Adain and Salielah.

Rose made the introductions, and Adain and Salielah received a professional, "Hi, pleased to finally meet you," and a handshake from Joyce, and Steve, who stood up to greet Salielah, and Barbara. Jessica, followed by Bethany and Elizabeth got up, and the three, using their most seductive walk, circled Adain, looking him up and down. Adain blushed.

"So you're the one who Rose has been making such a fuss over..." Jessica began.

"Girrrrls!"

"Oh, shush, Rose. You know you have!" Jessica turned back to Adain and sniffed. "...Well, I can't see what all the fuss was about." Adain looked crestfallen.

They left him like that for a few seconds, and then the three broke into giggles. "We're just kidding, silly," said Bethany, slapping him lightly on the arm. "I think Rose has excellent taste!"

"And I bet Dainie could be really really cute...with a little work!" slyly suggested Elizabeth.

Feeling a little left out, Salielah chimed in in a fake indignant tone, "What am I, chopped liver!?"

While they hugged Salielah to make up for ignoring her, and while Adain blushed some more, Rose wondered if Elizabeth had guessed at part of her plan. As things settled down she asked, "You two want coffee?" Receiving nods of 'no', she went over to the coffee maker herself. She heaved a sigh. "Lord, I need some!" She felt a little happy spark as she took her cup with her name on it down from the rack. She poured the cup and seated herself in the seat Steve had vacated for her. He perched on the window sill, his usual spot. She took a sip, and then looked around the room, making sure she made eye contact with each person present. She wanted each of The Group to know serious business was coming.

"You all want to get Joan, Lou, and Ed, right? That's what we've been working toward, right?"

They all nodded assent.

"Well, I had to clear it with Steve and Adain first, but Steve agreed yesterday..." Jessica gave her father a "Dad?" look, but he just smiled at her enigmatically, "...and I just cleared it with Dainie..." Eyebrows shot up at that, as Adain blushed yet again, "...and Salielah, so here's my plan..."

Nagasaki!

Chapter 8: On the Eve of Destruction

It was 2:00pm, exactly five weeks after The Meeting. Jessica stood fidgeting behind the Vaingirls cash register. Things had returned to seeming normalcy after The Meeting, but all the secondary participants in Rose's plan knew it was like the Phony War of 1939/40, and that things were being done behind the scenes by the major players. A few days ago, the activity levels had increased, and today she was waiting to be called into the salon, where her dad had been closeted with Joyce, Elizabeth and Bethany since 8:00am that morning.

She had always wondered why her dad had chosen to have "Jay" feminized by Vaingirls as the way to curb his self-destructive behavior. Since he had very quickly begun to enjoy the process, though, she had never questioned him. She had been afraid he might change the "punishment". Now she knew. Her dad had been a Vaingirl! Her REALLY big dad! When Rose had revealed that he had agreed to temporarily become Stephanie again, she couldn't wait to get out of the meeting and question him. When she finally cornered him he told her how he came to be a Vaingirl, but refused to show her any pictures. All he had told her was that he was about the same size then as now. She couldn't wait! She didn't believe it. Her BIG father a gorgeous Vaingirl? No way!

The salon door opened, and Joyce beckoned. As she entered, she saw Bethany and Elizabeth wearing aprons with the Vaingirls logo on them. There were big smiles on their faces. Clothes, accessories, hair rollers and brushes, tubes, bottles, jars of cosmetics, etc. were strewn everywhere, and in the midst of it stood the most gorgeous BIG lady Jessica had ever seen. Jessica's jaw dropped open and her eyes got wide. "Da...da...da...Daddy????"

Joyce nodded a bit to herself. It looked like a breakthrough for Jessica. She had suspected that Jessica was still hanging on to a bit of Jay, and one of the reasons, trivial on the surface, was her continued reference to Steve as "Dad". Not that being a CD like her brother, G.A., would be bad for Jessica, but Joyce had always felt that with Jessica's slender build and delicate features and new feminine disposition, she would make a wonderful full time girl. And, frankly, although Joyce would never say this to Jessica in an attempt to influence her, Jessica was such a perfect addition to Vaingirls that she didn't want her going off and doing something else, femme or drab!

It wasn't that Steve was glammed to the max; that would have made him look like a drag queen, a very very passable drag queen to be sure, but still a Ru Paul-type drag queen. No, Stephanie was dressed rather conservatively in a tiger print knee length dress with two-inch-heeled black pumps. The outfit, while not blaring out her sexuality, showed to advantage her very feminine figure. A modest gold chain around her neck, small gold stud earrings, a few gold bracelets on one wrist and a lady's gold watch on the other completed her accessories. Her hair was curly red swept back into a ponytail and held with a black bow, and her lip color and the color of her sensible length nails matched. In other words, she was the very picture of a young office girl. Yes, young, for she seemed to have dropped twenty years and appeared only a little older than her daughter.

"Da...da...da...Daddy????"

"Well, hello, dear, don't you look lovely today!" The voice and gestures were undeniably feminine. Then, with a radical change in body language and in a just as undeniably masculine voice, "Well, Jess, whaddaya think of ol' dad?"

"Da...da...da...Daddy????"

Steve laughed, and then was back to Stephanie again. "Yes, dear, it's me. Put your tongue back in your mouth, it's not very ladylike." She took pity on her daughter and explained. "We think Lou and Ed are the only ones in Chicago producing femme slaves for Joan. We also believe that there's one in the works, one Robert Saunders, now working as Louise's office secretary. Pictures taken by Barbara show that Mr. Saunders appears to be in the early stages of feminization. She also found that "Robbie", as he's being called, usually stops for a glass of wine or two - it used to be a beer or two - at the Wine Bar on Rosco after work. My job is to make friends with 'her' and hopefully bring her over to the 'light side of the femme'." She smiled.

Jess had a momentary image of her "father" in a white robe with his hair in buns on both sides of "her" head, holding a light saber.

"Barbara reports," continued Stephanie, "that Robbie is big, and felt that a T-girl bigger than him/her might have a psychological edge. I was the only one who fit the bill."

Still processing her father's new look, Jessica stuttered, "Da...da...da...Daddy, you're beautiful!"

Stephanie curtsied in response, and, big as she was, it was sweet, graceful, and not at all comic.

>From Bethany, with her hands on her hips: "Well, Twerp, would you expect anything less from us!?" And then she giggled. Joyce and Elizabeth smiled; they were used to this between Bethany and Jessica.

Jessica, slowly gearing down, stuck her tongue out at Bethany, and then slowly approached her father. "Mom???"

"'Aunt Stephie', dear. Come, give your auntie a hug." Every bit as strong, of course, as Steve, she reached out and effortlessly picked up her daughter and pulled her into a bear hug. "Kiss kiss, dear," she cautioned, "don't muss the makeup."

Having been put down, Jessica backed away from her "Aunt". She got serious. "This could be dangerous Da...Aunt Stephie; you be careful!" She paused. "Can I help?"

"I know, sweetie, but this is something your Aunt Stephie has to handle for herself." And looking his/her son/daughter/niece in the eye, Stephanie added in a serious tone, "I'll be careful." And lightening up a bit, "You've seen your ol' Dad in action, and I am, after all, his twin. Now, scoot; Auntie has work to do!"

Reluctantly, Jessica turned to go, but Joyce stopped her. "I have something for you to do, Jess; something important. Come into my office. I want you to contact Dr. Adkins, and tell her Rose is back in town and wants to meet with her ASAP."

This was the second time in half an hour that a most unladylike Jessica stood there with her mouth hanging open. What the hell had been going on for the last month!?

Chapter 9: Interlude: Maid in New England

Adain stood on the train platform of the small New England town, watching the train that had just deposited him there roll away. He was extremely nervous, and was vexed because he thought he shouldn't be. 'You're a thirty-five-year old man,' he thought to himself, 'get a grip!' Well, for right now, he was a thirty-five-year old man. He briefly wondered that if he had known almost three years ago when he "bought" Rose what was going to happen, he would still have done it. But only briefly. His love for Rose, his "special girl", flared into incandescence, and there was no doubt within his mind and heart that she was worth any sacrifice - even that of becoming Dainie! And what a Dainie he was going to become! Adain thought back to the day he and Rose had been reunited:

Adain felt like a roller coaster; just a few short days before, he had been in the depths of despair, had been since Rose had apparently been killed in the car accident. Then he had received her message, and the 'coaster had been going up since. Now, even the fact that he was dressed as Dainie could not take away from his top-of-the-world feeling as he held her. After what seemed like both an instant and forever, she had pulled away, stepped back a pace, visibly gathered herself together, and put her emotions on hold.

"...Uh, Dainie...Adain. Uh, I have this plan..."

"Before I say anything else," she had said to him, "I want you to know that I love you." She looked him in the eye. Her voice was intense and dead serious. "I would not trade the time we spent together for anything. While I hate The Three Bitches for what they are doing to others, it's ironic that I have to thank them for what they did to me. Because if they hadn't, I would never have met you! Or Salielah, who I love as a sister..." She turned away then, refusing to continue looking him in the eyes. "...Which is why this is going to be so incredibly difficult to say! You may well hate me before I'm finished!"

He moved to show his denial with a hug, but she held up a hand to stop him. She completed her turn, so that she was facing away from him. "Hear me out!" Then her voice dropped so low that he had to strain in order to hear it. "You originally chose me because I was a 'special girl', because I could have sex with you the way that you preferred, yet still be a convincingly beautiful woman to the rest of the world. I think, and I believe you do also, that our relationship has gone far beyond sex, yet sex, that special kind of sex possible only with a...a..." Adain could tell she disliked the term she was about to use. "...shemale, was why you chose me." She shook her head as if to clear it.

"Adain, Ross was the reason I didn't return to you as soon as I was physically able. I wanted to!" She was visibly agitated. "I couldn't. Ross was the one who had been wronged, had had his life stolen by those evil women he had thought were his best friends. He deserved a chance to get his life back! After a year of trying, he gave up; he surrendered to me. Ross is gone; only Rose remains. And, Adain, Rose is...I am...a woman! I can't be one of those, a shemale, and I know that's what you want in your bed. Adain, I'm going to have SRS; I have to be a complete woman, or at least as complete as current medical science can make me. I can't be your 'special girl', your shemale lover anymore!" And she broke down. Rose had collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

He had been thunderstruck, and filled with black despair...for about a second. And then he moved. He scooped up Rose and held her tightly. This was Rose! This was his friend, his confidant, his soul mate. Sure, the sex was great, but it was only sex. This was HIS Rose, and he was HER Adain. He would NOT lose her; he would NOT give her up. Hell, there were ways that a man and a WOMAN could have sex...and he felt a stirring...'OHMYGAWD!'

Rose still had her face buried in his chest; his shirt - or rather Dainie's blouse - was thoroughly soaked. Adain carefully tilted her head up; she was so beautiful! "Rose. Rose, darling. Look at me. Rose, you'll always be my special girl, and you've done the impossible."

She opened her eyes, still sniffling a little, and gave him a questioning look. He gazed lovingly down at her and smiled, "Although she meant it in an entirely different context, my dear mother always used to say that the right woman would straighten me out."

Rose had looked at him uncomprehendingly for a few seconds, and then, as realization of what he meant dawned on her, she had thrown her arms around him and kissed him passionately once...and again...and again - in between giggles, of course.

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Anyone seeing Adain standing on the railroad platform would have sworn they saw him glowing. It was a good thing, he thought, that Rose had reinforced his love with all those kisses, in light of what she had gone on to propose.

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After a time, when the kissing and caressing and giggling had faded to quiet holding, Rose had pulled away slightly and he noticed she was giving him a critical and appraising look. "My love," she said, struggling to keep passion out of her voice, "Are you sure? Are you really sure?"

He, equally seriously, answered her, "Rose, I'm sure. I felt the change, and imagined making love to you as a real woman. I'm sure I will be a bit awkward in our love making at first, but, I imagine..." here, he had smiled, "...so will you."

"Oh, Adain," she squealed, "you have made me the happiest woman in the world! I know it sounds trite, but it's TRUE! I was so afraid. I was sure I would lose you, but I couldn't lie to you; I couldn't live a lie!" And the kissing began all over again.

When she pulled her face away for the second time, he had moved his head to follow and kiss again. She had put her finger to his lips, stopping him. "You know, don't you, that right now, love, you look more like my beautiful lesbian lover than your usual handsome male self, don't you?" she asked.

He had started to smile at what he assumed was a playful comment, when he noted that Rose was dead on serious. The smile faded, and he waited for her to continue. 'The other shoe is about to fall,' he had thought.

"You know," she began, "that I am serious. Adainya - Dainie - is quite lovely. Salielah and I both agreed, at the time of the Maiden's Chair incident, that you were one of those lucky individuals who made an incredibly beautiful woman as well as an extremely handsome man. Even now, as a deliberately plain woman, you aren't - aren't plain, that is. When you hear what I have to say next, you may still want to leave me."

He had opened his mouth to deny that, but again she touched a finger to his lips. "You know I have to deal with Louise, Edwina, and Joan, don't you, for both personal and moral reasons? I think, I'm not sure, but I think that I can forgive them for what they did to me, because it brought us together, but I can't let them go on practicing slavery, tricking men into feminization and then betraying them, selling them. Tricking nice people like you and Salielah, too, making you think everything was voluntary and on the up and up till it was too late and they had their money. The people you're about to meet all agree with me. They have all agreed to my plan, but they won't have to go through as much as you will have to go through to prepare and execute it, if you agree, too. You may feel what I'm about to ask is too hard, too humiliating; if you do, say so, and I will not hold it against you...I want you to become, for a short period of time, my feminized slave. It will probably be humiliating. You may be my maid, a little girl, I'm not sure yet what all you'll need to be, but whatever you are has to be good enough to fool Joan, and that means very, very good." And then she had told him why.

He had again looked at her face, looked for the smile, some indication that this was all an elaborate joke. Nothing. She was completely serious. His male ego shouted at him and he ignored it; this was ROSE. His left brain practical side began to raise the points of difficulty involved, and he pushed them aside; this was ROSE. ROSE was asking him to help with something that was right and good; if this was what he had to do to play his part, what else could he do? So what if it might be a little, *a LITTLE???* humiliating and difficult; this was ROSE!

All he had said was, "Yes, dear."

More kissing and hugging, and when that finally died down, she explained the plan and told him what he had to do. Step one was this trip to New England to meet one Ms. Jane Thompson.

Rose had explained that Ms. Thompson had perfected the art of petticoat punishment to help straighten out wayward young men. The young men were referred to her from various sources where more traditional means of reformation had been tried and found wanting, and her record was excellent; of over fifty young men, all but two had gone on to lead successful lives. She broke them down, remolded them as gracious young ladies, and then returned them to their male status much improved.

Joyce had heard of her through conversations with some of her customers, former students, who occasionally liked to return to their feminine personas created while they were with their "Aunt Jane". They all spoke highly of her, and with affection.

Then had come a call from her brother, G.A.. One of his legal clients was having trouble with her son, and G.A. had wondered if Vaingirls could help. Joyce, Bethany, and Elizabeth - Jessica had not yet joined them - discussed it. The young man was a minor, and, they agreed, would need to be treated "in residence". They had never dealt with a minor before, and Vaingirls did not have residence facilities, yet Joyce did not want to just say no to her brother.

That was when she thought of contacting Ms. Thompson. She phoned and made an appointment to fly to New England and meet with her. G.A. asked if Georgieann could accompany her - "As an example of your work," he had said.

Although there was a significant age gap, upon meeting, the two real and one faux women had mutually concluded that they were all three kindred spirits, and Ms. Thompson was impressed when she saw the scrapbook that had been kept of George to Georgieann's transformation, and heard the story of the beginnings of Vaingirls. She soon became "Aunt Jane" to Joyce and Georgieann both.

Jane had accepted the young man, and "Cordelia" had become another of her success stories. "Cory" was now the head of an electrical contracting firm that Joyce had hired, based on Jane's recommendation, to upgrade Vaingirl's wiring a few years ago.

When Rose and Joyce had developed The Plan, Joyce advised that "Dainie" would need to be perfect to fool Louise, Edwina, and, especially, Joan; she told Rose how Jane had taught Kenneth, one of her students, to be a perfect, submissive, Kendra in just two weeks, and suggested that she call Jane, explain things to her, and see if Jane could help Adain temporarily become a scared and submissive, obedient Dainie. Jane had been outraged at the doings of The Three Bitches, and readily agreed. It had proved to be a most opportune time, as she was between pupils.

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As all of this ran through his mind, Adain noticed a regal looking red haired lady approaching him. Even dressed as a man, he automatically dropped into a curtsy. This had to be Aunt Jane.

"Very good, Dainie, for a beginning," she said, nodding her head in acknowledgment. "I can see that I will greatly enjoy meeting Mr. Ben Hariesh later, under more pleasant circumstances. For now, come with me, and we will get you into more suitable attire."

"Yes, ma'am." 'I love Rose. I love Rose. I love Rose. I lo...' ran through Dainie's mind as she geared up to do what was necessary.

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"You are not a longshoreman! You are not even a wealthy businessman; you are a LADY! Now, put that book back on your head and walk like one!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"No, no, no! We do not apply our makeup by the gallon, and you are not an oversexed streetwalker. You are a LADY! Now, wipe that off and try again, a little gentler with the blush brush this time!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You are NOT the town slut! You are a ladies' maid. You do not want to advertise your buxom and well-rounded wares to any and all. Let's try that curtsy again...again...again..."

"Yes, ma'am."

"That fork goes on your left! ...Not that left, your other left! Concentrate, girl!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

And then the darker, but necessary side.

"I believe a spanking is in order! Across my knees NOW, girl. Kick and squeal nicely, and it may be only ten strokes. You will count them out."

"Y-y-y-es, ma'am...one, ma'am....Oooohowchieeeeeeee! ...Two, ma'am..."

At the end of the month, dropping her at the train station, Jane said, "You have done well, Dainie, I have no hesitation whatsoever about recommending you to anyone as a model sissy ladies' maid and companion. And, Dainie...Adain?"

"Thank you, ma'am." Surprise at the use of "his" name. "Yes, ma'am?"

Out of character, Jane replied, "Get The Bitches!"

Out of character, Dainie said, "Most definitely YES, Aunt Jane!"

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Adain Ben Hariesh, dashing, handsome, billionaire businessman, did not make the train trip back to Chicago. Sometime during the last two weeks, he had disappeared. Oh, Dainie knew she was also Adain, but she realized she had a job to do, and that Adain would only get in the way. Adain agreed, so, with his permission, she had buried him in the basement rec room of her mind. There was a virtual recliner in there, and a virtual big screen TV with virtual tapes of every Superbowl and World Series game ever played. There was a complete virtual library, plus plenty of virtual beer and frozen pizza in the virtual fridge; he would be quite comfortable. As he was shutting the virtual door behind him, he had given her a virtual thumbs up: 'You go, GIRL!'

"Miss Rose?" Curtsy.

At first, Rose didn't recognize her; then..."Dainie? OHMYGAWD, girl, just look at yo..." But at that point, about to go into hugging mode, Rose quickly stopped and collected herself, remembering that she, too, had a part to play, and had to do it perfectly. 'Get with the program, girl!'

She put on her "dealing with the servants" cloak. "Dainie, you look quite well. And that was a very much improved and well executed curtsy. I imagine I will be able to tell that your training with Mistress Jane went extremely well. You may tell me all about it on the ride home. Here are the keys. Have the porter bring your luggage to the Mercedes, Deck 3, Row 8A. You may pick me up at the Jackson Street entrance."

"Yes, Miss Rose. ...Miss Rose?"

"Yes, dear?"

"It's good to be home."

Chapter 10: Back to the Eve of Destruction

Jessica closed her mouth with a gulp, pulled herself together and, giving a wave to the incredibly gorgeous woman who was also her father, she followed Joyce. As she entered Joyce's office, she saw Rose seated at Joyce's desk. Joyce herself went to stand behind Rose to her left, and immediately began reading some papers on the desk over her shoulder. Standing to the right side of the desk, eyes cast demurely down, hands folded in front of her, was a rather pretty woman - girl, really - that Jessica did not immediately recognize. She was dressed in a rather plain knee length navy blue dress with white Peter Pan collar and white cuffs. Black hose, black flats, small black button earrings and a plain ring resembling a wedding band completed, except for two items, her outfit. What set her apart from the other women in the room was the white apron with ruffled trim and the white ruffle headpiece she wore in her curly black hair. Who was she?? This certainly was a day for surprises, thought Jessica. 'I didn't know Rose had a maid.' And then it hit, and for the third time, Jessica's mouth dropped open. 'OHMYGAWD, that's Dainie!' Adain Ben Hariesh, suave debonair MALE billionaire, was a thoroughly feminine female looking maid!

Rose smiled. "Jess, you look like you could use a drink. Iced tea, as usual?"

Still tongue tied, Jessica could only nod.

"You need anything, sis?" Rose turned her attention to Joyce, who shook her head no, and held up her hand in an "I'm fine" gesture. "Dainie," she said, turning to the new maid, "please bring Miss Jessica a glass of iced tea, lemon and two sugars, please, bring two diet Cokes, one with ice and one without, as Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bethany will be joining us, and bring me a Jack Daniels double, straight up." She turned dismissively, and spoke smilingly to Jessica and Joyce. "Some of Ross's habits I kept."

With a, "Yes, ma'am," and a curtsy, Dainie left the room.

Rose turned to Jessica. "She's really very good. She'll remember your drink preference from now on." At Jessica's confused look, she laughed. "Oh, Jess, this has been your day for shocks, hasn't it! Go get Liz and Beth, will you, and I'll explain it all to the three of you. They've already met the new Dainie, but I didn't have a chance to fill them in on what's going on, either. We're finally going to get those bitches!"

An hour later, a much more knowledgeable Jessica picked up the phone to make a call. She smiled. The Three Bitches, she thought, were about to find out they'd pissed off the wrong ladies! And she was one of those ladies, would have a part to play! The little bit of her that was still Jay shuddered and gave up the ghost; Jessica was 100% woman now, where it counted!

Chapter 11: Interlude: Bad Bad Bad Bad Girl...

Joan hung up the phone. One of what she liked to think of as "Dr. Adkin's Rules for Having It All...And Keeping It" was, "Always expect the unexpected", but this had thrown even her for somewhat of a loop. Rose was still alive! Not only alive, but here in Chicago and wanting to meet with her! To give her subconscious a few moments to sort out what she'd just discovered, she got up, went to the coffee maker and started to pick up the coffee pot and her cup. 'Nuh uh,' she thought. 'This calls for something stronger!'

Putting the pot back, she bent down. The derriere she thus presented to anyone who would have the nerve to open her door unannounced (very few would, and they would regret it) was unenhanced by any support undergarments, and was still firm and shapely despite her forty plus years. As she straightened up, one could tell the same about her waist and breasts. She wore very little makeup, and her face remained virtually unlined; there was no gray in the lustrous black hair that fell in waves to her shoulder blades.

In her hand was a bottle of Jack Daniels, and she poured at least a double shot into her coffee cup. She downed it in one gulp as if it were water, and then poured herself another which she carried back to her desk. As she passed the full length mirror on the back of her office door, she gave herself an over-all look see and whistled. 'Not bad for an old broad,' she thought. 'Must be clean living.' People would have noticed an evil twist to her laugh. She settled back into her chair, kicked her heels off, and put her feet up on the desk. She was now in what she thought of as her "thinking position". As she let the conclusions reached by her subconscious surface, she slowly sipped the Jack Daniels.

After packing her off with Adain Ben Hariesh, Joan had never expected to be contacted by Rose. She had, however, thought she might be contacted by Adain. She had noticed a certain hint of inner strength in Ross the first time she had met him the time Louise and Ed had brought him in for a checkup when the hormones first kicked in. While she hadn't seen it in Rose; she had only met her once, that last Friday. Still, there had been a nagging doubt as to her complete subjugation, for she seemed to have given in too easily. Joan, being a pragmatist herself, had put that down to Rose making the best of a bad situation. What would she do when alone with Adain and Salielah?

Adain had not called, though, and when Joan had contacted him for her usual six weeks checkup - Joan liked to think of the first six weeks as her warranty period - Adain had raved about Rose and how happy he was with her, no problems at all. Salielah had commented on how well Rose was taking to her household duties.

Joan had expected that to be the last of Rose. Secretly, in what passed for a heart, Joan hoped Rose was happy; she had instantly taken a liking to the girl - and she had definitely been a girl - she had met that Friday night. She had been glad to be convinced that Rose had made the sensible decision, that she did not have to make Rose deformed or ugly. Thus, two years later, when Adain had contacted her telling her of Rose's accident and asking if she had any word of her, she had been hoping to find the girl alive and had instigated a line of inquiry. That line had dried up, however, and up till fifteen minutes ago, she believed Rose to be dead.

She wasn't. She was at Vaingirls. She hadn't been told that, but she had recognized Jessica's voice. Joan made it her business to know as much as possible about anything that went down among Chicago's transgendered community. It was good for business. In fact, Joan had quite a good reputation among transsexuals, not just in Chicago, but worldwide; her TG slavery operations (medical and business) remained, of course, secret. She had few complaints and a great deal of praise, public and private, from her cosmetic surgery clients, whether male, female, or transgendered. Her transsexual SRS clients raved about the intensity and number of the orgasms they achieved through "Dr. Adkins' vagina". She was, she acknowledged with no false modesty, what virtually everyone else said was true: she was, simply, the best in the business.

Joan was neutral about Vaingirls. She knew Louise and Edwina hated Joyce, but that was because Lou and Ed had made mistakes in handling her. Joan had met Joyce and the others casually on several occasions, and their relations had been pleasant. The fact that Rose was staying there, therefore, did not by itself raise any danger flags, but there were so many unanswered questions.

'Why did she contact me?' she had thought at first. 'By all logic, she should hate my guts.' Yet, when she had mentioned that, Jessica had assured her that while she did not know why Rose wanted a meeting, Rose HAD told her that, "She harbors no animosity toward you."

Joan had agreed to the meeting because she wanted to hear Rose's story, but she would take precautions; she hadn't gotten to where she was by trusting people. The meeting was in a week, so she had time to put some safeguards in place. Safeguards in addition to her friends Smith and Wesson, which she kept in her upper right hand desk drawer.

As she sat there, she debated on whether to tell Lou and Ed that Rose was back, and about the meeting. She decided not to. While she rather liked them, kindred spirits and all that, her relationship with the two was strictly a business relationship, at least in her view, and she gave them information on a "need to know" basis. She was not yet sure they needed to know about this. For one thing, Joan had a nose for money, and she thought there might be money, Ben Hariesh money, so quite a lot of it, in this. No need to share before she determined she had to.

She reached forward to push the intercom button to summon Robbie and get the ball rolling to prepare for the meeting. She had borrowed Robbie for the week from Lou and Ed, because her own receptionist/secretary was on vacation, and also so she could evaluate "his" progress in light of her plans for him. She thought "his" in quotes, because it was obvious that under Lou and Ed's manipulation, Robert was progressing nicely. Oh, there were still some rough edges. Robbie, at 6'1", barefoot, two hundred, twenty-five pounds, size 11 feet was a big girl, and would have to be ultra feminine to be convincing. To go ultra femme at that size without crossing the line to drag queen was tricky, and she wondered how Lou and Ed would manage it.

Before she could push the button though, there was a light tapping on her door. She pulled her feet off the desk and felt around with them for her heels. She found them and, with some toe gymnastics, managed to get them on; then she sat up straight, folded her hands on her desk, pulled on her professional look, and called, "Come in."

When the door opened, Joan got her second surprise of the day. "R-o-o-bbie???"

Robbie was NOT wearing her usual androgynous outfit, nor was her hair in the usual androgynous hairstyle. There were no androgynous shoes or accessories, and the little feminine touches were gone. They'd been replaced by BIG feminine touches. SHE - and, Joan realized, it was definitely she - from the top down, had her hair in a short but definitely feminine style; its natural blonde coloring was enhanced by darker highlights. Her face was immaculately made up, but she had done it in a normal daytime office look such as any working woman would do. She wore a lovely lilac colored shirtwaist dress that reached slightly below her knees. Her nails matched her lipcolor, and extended the exact length to be both fashionable and serviceable in an office. Her shoes were a lilac match for her dress, and had sensible two-inch heels. A simple gold chain necklace, small gold hoop earrings, a few conservative bracelets, and a Betty Boop watch, a concession to individuality, completed the ensemble. It was very definitely a woman who stood before Joan, and the thoughts 'BIG girl' or 'Drag Queen' never entered Joan's mind.

Looking serious and businesslike, the new girl spoke. "Good morning, Dr. Adkins." And then she couldn't contain herself anymore; a big smile broke out on her face, and she twirled. "You like?"

Joan did like; she liked very much. The dollar signs climbing she liked, and she experienced a moment of dejavu. Her mind flashed to the scene from a Friday night almost two years ago, when she had first seen Ross fresh from the salon. "They're right, Joan, underneath all this I AM Ross, but I certainly don't feel like Ross tonight. Tonight, please call me Rose." She knew at that moment that he, at least for that evening, had surrendered to being totally Rose, and she had had that dollar signs climbing feeling that night, too. She just knew Adain would pay whatever she asked, and he had. With Rose it had been her delight in her friendship with Lou and Ed, her knowledge that they had a surprise planned for her that night, that had spurred her to 150% transition.

Obviously, something had had the same effect on Robert, as HE had obviously and almost certainly voluntarily crossed the line from androgyny to womanhood, and SHE loved it.

"I DO like, Robbie, in fact, I LOVE your new look. You look just the perfect receptionist/secretary, girl - and I do mean Girl, with a capital 'G'. What happened to Robert, the young man I was borrowing from my friends Lou and Ed?" She waved toward the chair in front of her desk. "Sit! Tell Auntie Joan all about it!"

Smoothing her skirt under herself in an entirely graceful and feminine manner, Robbie sat. "Well, Dr. Adk-"

"Call me Joan, dear. You are officially off duty for the duration of your story."

"Well, Joan. You know how fond I am of Louise and Edwina. They have been so nice to me, giving me a job and all, and they are the best friends I have here in Chicago. I've known for some time now that they like me to be feminine, and that they've been trying to ease me into becoming a girl, to trick me into it, so to speak. They don't know that I realize what's going on. They also don't know..." here she gave a big smile and threw her hands up and out and then in to muss her hair in the old Marlo Thomas "That Girl" gesture of pure feminine exuberance, "...that I LOVE it! They've been having so much fun with their little games, and I like them so much, that I couldn't bring myself to admit it to them and spoil their fun. But a friend of mine, Stephanie, that I met at The Wine Bar, a little place on Rosco that I stop at occasionally, encouraged me to surprise them and jump completely over the androgynous step."

Joan struggled to suppress her surprise. Robbie KNEW! A little panic arose, but she suppressed it; apparently he...she...didn't know EVERYTHING. She knew they were feminizing him, and she liked it! Well, whatever this Stephanie was doing for Robbie certainly seemed to be falling in with her plans, and she knew Lou and Ed would be overjoyed. They were, if anything, even greedier than she was. Maybe, though, she ought to find out a bit more about this Stephanie. "Well, Robbie, I would certainly say that this Stephanie is an excellent influence on you. Tell me about her."

Robbie leaned forward excitedly. "Oh, Joan, she was just what I needed. You know that I'm big for a girl, and my one worry was that I would make an ugly girl. Lou and Ed and you are all at least five inches shorter than me, and I outweigh all of you considerably, and my feet are large, and... Well, I was moping about that one day at the Wine Bar, seated by myself in a booth, when this incredibly beautiful BIG older woman came over. Not fat, big. She was even bigger than me, at least 6'5", and probably two hundred, fifty pounds, but there was nothing remotely masculine about her. She just slid right in opposite me. 'Hi', she said, 'my name's Stephanie, what's yours?' Well, of course, I said, 'Robert,' and then she knocked my socks off; she said, 'No, dear, I mean your femme name, your real name.'

"You could have knocked me over with a feather! She had seen right through my androgynous look; she saw my soul! My jaw must have hit the table, because she giggled, and put one of her perfectly manicured hands over mine which were folded on the table top. 'Takes one to know one, dear.' Double shock; Stephanie was a guy!? 'No way,' I'd thought, 'not her; she's gorgeous!' She must have read my expression. She smiled and told me she was a 'T-girl', transgendered. A pre-op transsexual. She said she had seen me come in, and had noted my size and also my androgynous look - she used the term sissy look, but she said it in a nice way, like there was nothing wrong with that. And somehow, she said, she had just known, been certain enough to come over and talk to me. She had seen that I looked like my dog had just died, bet herself that I didn't have a dog, and decided to see if she could help. 'We big girls have to stick together,' she told me.

"And suddenly, there I was, pouring my story out to this total stranger! How I felt so good about what Lou and Ed were doing to me, how I was going along and letting them think they were tricking me. But I also told her about my fears of never being able to pass because of my size, or worse yet, being able to pass, but only as an ugly woman. Her comment was, 'Been there, done that, hon.' And she told me her story. That she had been an out-of-control rowdy as a boy, destined for juvie or worse, death in a gang war or somesuch. As a last resort, his parents had had him feminized, 'petticoat punishment' they called it. They sent him to live with this woman he referred to as 'Aunt Jane' out East someplace. HE hated it, but SHE left after six months loving it. After that he lived some as HE, some as SHE, finally married as HE and he and his wife had a son. His wife died several years ago, the son was grown and gone, so SHE came back and decided to stay.

"Over the past couple of weeks, we've gotten to be really good friends. When I told her that I would be working for you this week, she suggested that I go all out girl and try out my new look on you before springing it on Lou and Ed. She said that as a medical professional, you could be trusted to answer my questions, and give me an honest critique. Can I really be a girl? A pretty one? Or am I just fooling myself, will my size always make me a freak?

"She helped me put together this outfit, but I did my own hair, nails, and makeup, and here I am, and oh, Dr. Adkins...Joan...I feel sooooo GOOD, like this is how I was meant to be!" Robbie sat up straight, and looked Joan straight in the eye. "Am I a woman? Or is this..." she gestured at herself, "...all a big..." she verbally underscored 'Big, "...joke?"

The dollar signs were as big as the Hancock building, and glittered like diamonds! 'This is better than Rose!' thought Joan, as she got up and went around the desk. 'This is, finally, my own private island in the Caribbean!' She pulled Robbie up out of her chair, and gave her the biggest hug she was capable of. "Oh, my dear, you are woman with a capital 'W'! Welcome, Robbie, welcome to womanhood. You are going to knock Lou and Ed's socks off!" And the two women cried in each other's arms, one crying from happiness, the other from greed.

After a few moments, Joan untangled herself, stepped back and pulled some Kleenex from the box on her desk. She handed half of it to Robbie, saying, "Oh, dear, we are both going to have to go to the ladies' room for repair work before we can be seen in public again."

Robbie looked at Joan, eyes shining. "Oh, thank you, Joan! To have you, who have made so many women beautiful, validate me as a woman, an attractive woman, means so much!" She visibly pulled herself together, dabbing at her eyes with the Kleenex. "I was going to wait till you called for me, but I looked in the mirror, and just couldn't wait. I suppose I had better actually BE what I appear to be, and ask what I can do for you today."

Joan pulled her purse out of the right hand middle drawer of her desk, opened it and pulled out her wallet; she extracted her Discover card. "What you can do for me, my dear, after you repair yourself, is go shopping! Buy yourself a knockout evening gown and all accessories. I am going with you tonight when you show your new, true, self to Lou and Ed, dressed to the nines. I wouldn't miss it for the world! Now, sit back down and give me just a minute."

Joan dialed her salon and asked for Marci, the proprietor. "Marci, this is Joan Adkins. I have a friend who needs a complete makeover, the works, ASAP; can you take her later today? What!? Oh, Marci, I'm so sorry. No, no, you go ahead. I'll make other arrangements." She explained to Robbie. "Robbie, you did an excellent job yourself on your hair and makeup, but we really want to knock those two tricksters for a loop, so I was going to have Marci give you the works. She, however, was just closing up; her Grandmother is sick, and the hospital just called telling her she's really needed there. BUT, don't despair; let me think." And then Joan remembered the call from Jessica.

'Vaingirls! Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone!' she thought, as she picked up the phone again and dialed. 'Robbie, you are about to become a spy!'

Chapter 12: Three Girls Three

As Robbie left Dr. Adkin's office, with Joan's Discover card in her purse and a 3:00pm appointment with Bethany and Elizabeth, she was smiling. Her thoughts, however, were not the happy girlish thoughts that Joan assumed they were. 'I know she's a royal bitch,' she thought, 'but what an actress! Bette Davis must be applauding in her grave!' Robbie KNEW. EVERYTHING. And she, like Rose before her, was PISSED! She thought back to a month ago.

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Her meeting with Stephanie at the Wine Bar was as she had described it to Joan, and over the next two weeks they had become good friends, as also told to Joan. She had told Lou and Ed about her new friend, and Lou and Ed appeared happy for her. They had even invited Stephanie over to "play", but Stephanie had been busy, promising "some other time". Then, one Friday, things had changed.

When Robbie entered the bar, Stephanie had been seated at the bar, not in their usual booth. When she saw Robbie, she got up and intercepted her. "Robbie, do you trust me?" she had asked.

Without even thinking, Robbie answered, "Of course I do, Steph. What's up?"

Stephanie took her arm, and began to lead her out of the bar. "I want you to come with me and meet someone, and I want you to please, please, please keep an open mind as she tells you some truths you're not going to want to hear."

Stephanie was, of course, taking her to Vaingirls to meet with Rose. Robbie had heard of Vaingirls, but not favorably, as his information came from Lou and Ed. When they had parked and started walking up Halsted, and Robbie had realized where they were headed, she started to pull away. "Vaingirls!? What is this, Steph? I've heard of them; a bunch of bitches, that's what I've heard! What's going on?"

Stephanie held on to her arm. The bigger woman pulled her around and looked her in the eyes. "Please, Robbie, trust me. Things are not as you think they are. If, after you've heard the woman I'm bringing you to, you want to leave, you can, and I'll never bother you again. But please, meet her and hear her out. It really is a matter of vital importance to you that you do."

Robbie made a leap of faith. "Okay, Steph." Unknown to her conscious mind, she had already made a choice. Lou and Ed were real women, and they were normal female size. Big T-girls really did need to stick together.

The two women entered the building through the famous (or infamous, if you asked Lou and Ed) red doors. As apprehensive as she was, Robbie felt the urge to shop as she passed the gorgeous gowns and other pretty things displayed in the store. When they reached the cash register, Stephanie introduced the blonde Marilyn Monroe double standing behind it. "Robbie, this is my daughter, Jessica. She's also my son, Jay."

"Daddy!" Jessica had not been referred to as Jay for over a year now, and was aghast that her father would revel her to a complete stranger.

Stephanie put her hand on her daughter's arm. "I'm sorry, Jess. This is Robbie, whom you've heard about, and she needs to know that there are other T-girls here - and you just returned the favor by calling me 'Daddy'" She turned, smiling to Robbie. "Honestly, Robbie, do I look like a 'daddy' to you?"

A confused Robbie just stood there.

Somewhat mollified, Jessica stuck out her hand. "Hi, Robbie, 'Aunt Stephie' here can be somewhat abrupt, but her heart is in the right place." As Robbie took her hand and the two shook, she continued. "I AM Jessica; I WAS Jay. Jay is no longer in the picture." She turned to Stephanie. "File that away, 'Daddy'; you've got a full time daughter."

Stephanie shook her head. She reached across the counter and hugged her daughter. Out of her beautiful feminine lips came Steve's bass, clearly masculine, voice. "Well, well, well, this is a day for revelations. Goodbye, then, to Jay. I can't say I'm completely surprised. I will remember him; I will not mourn him. I love you, daughter." She sniffed. "Damn! I'm still not proficient with this eye makeup thing, and now I'm going to have repair work to do!" Back to Stephanie's voice. "Call and tell Rose that Robbie is here, dear; it's time for further revelations."

Jessica was talking on the phone as Stephanie lead a still confused Robbie toward the back room.

They passed through the salon, and Robbie felt the comfort of the room. A child of the 60's would say it gave off good vibes. Her eye was caught by a framed photo of a young prom girl and a glammed to the max drag queen getting out of the twin makeover chairs at the same time and giving each other a high five. She began to think that the women who designed and ran this place couldn't be the evil people Lou and Ed had talked of.

They reached the closed office door, and, before knocking, Stephanie again looked directly into Robbie's eyes. "I want to tell you the truth about me before you go in there and meet Rose. I'm not a transsexual, Robbie, not even a real crossdresser. In that I lied to you. I WAS feminized as a young man, but not by 'Aunt' Jane Thompson; she does exist, and you may even meet her at some point, but she didn't 'do' me. I was feminized by Joyce, the lady who runs Vaingirls, at the request of my father, who was a friend of her brother. I was an adult, but just barely, and I was a macho asshole, completely out of control. I certainly did not want to be feminized, but my father was rich, and no cooperation from me, no money for me, as simple as that. Without going into details, Joyce turned my life around; by bringing out my feminine side and making me face her, she made me, Steve, a better man. I would trust her with my life. I trusted her with my son, Jay, when he seemed to be following in old dad's bad footsteps, and you just saw the outcome of that. I couldn't be happier; Jess is a fine young lady.

"Joyce asked me to become Stephanie again, to seek you out and make friends with you, and to eventually get you here to talk to Rose. She asked me because of my size, because, while I'm bigger than you, I come across as a beautiful woman, just as you wanted to but were afraid you wouldn't. I DO consider you my friend, Robbie. I sense that Robert was a fine young man, and that you are becoming a fine young woman. Am I right?"

Robbie, put on the spot, was forced to look within herself. Robert was almost a memory. She nodded "yes". She was somewhat overwhelmed, but in spite of what Stephanie was saying, there was no feeling of betrayal. "Keep going," she said.

"The point is," continued Stephanie, "I trust Joyce. Joyce trusts Rose. I've met Rose, and I trust her. You can leave now, if you want, but please don't. Whatever you later decide, please hear her out; your future happiness depends on hearing what she has to say. And Robbie, she's a T-girl like you; a real one. She's like Jess, a transsexual. I just couldn't let you go in there without telling you the truth about me." She spoke the last sentence in Steve's voice, and waited.

"Steve, are you enjoying being Stephanie?"

Steve was taken aback; that was not the question, if any, he had expected. Now it was his/her turn for introspection. "Yes," in Steve's voice. And then, breaking into a smile, "Yes." Then, in Stephanie's voice, "Yes, I believe I am...girlfriend!"

Robbie smiled. "Knock."

A feminine voice from the other side said, "Come in." Robbie realized as she entered that Stephanie wasn't with her. She faced a young, attractive woman with mid-length honey blonde hair, wearing a stylish zebra pattern suit and two-inch black patent pumps. The woman gestured for her to sit on the floral pattern couch that ran along the office wall, and then sat herself. Both women turned toward each other. "Hi, Robbie, I'm Rose. I was Ross, and I want you to hear my story." And she told it.

"...so here we are." Rose had finished. Robbie was somewhat in shock. "You look like you could use a drink, hon. Have one, and then we'll talk. Or you can leave. What'll you have?"

Robbie was so overwhelmed she reverted to Robert for just a moment. "Jack Daniels. Double. Straight up."

Rose gave her an odd smile. "I believe I'll join you." She picked up a small bell and rang it. An attractive woman in a maid's uniform entered. Having heard the story, Robbie realized that this must be Adain - no - Dainie, and was instantly proved right. "Dainie, Miss Robbie and I will both have a Jack Daniels double, straight up, please." Then she noticed that Dainie already had a tray in her hand with two glasses full of amber liquid on it. "Why, thank you, Dainie. Sometimes I believe you're psychic. You may fetch yourself one, and join us, as Miss Robbie may have questions for you."

Dainie whisked away a heretofore unnoticed napkin from the tray, revealing a third identical glass. Rose just shook her head. "You are getting a bit impertinent, Missy," she chided her maid, "I may be forced to take you across my knee!" But she was smiling.

Dainie distributed the drinks, placed hers on the coffee table in front of the couch, curtsied to the two, and sat in the couch matching chair opposite them. Her submissive manner was betrayed for just an instant by a mischievous grin, and then she became serious and waited.

Robbie had so many questions, but the foremost one, the one he really had so much trouble with, came out. "They really mean to SELL me?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"Yes, Robbie, they do. Just like they sold me to Adain." Dainie kept silent, but Robbie noticed the red tinge on her cheeks; it didn't come from blush, she thought.

"May I speak to Adain, please?" Rose looked at Dainie, and Robbie could tell that she didn't like the idea of her breaking character, even for a moment. "I'll only ask one question, and it only requires a one word answer."

Rose nodded to Dainie. "Adain may answer."

Robbie turned his attention to the person he still had a great deal of trouble accepting was Adain Ben Hariesh. "They really conned you, too? You really didn't know Ross...er, Rose was coming with you involuntarily?" As Adain opened his mouth to answer, Robbie put her hand up as if to stop him. "No, don't answer, I know the answer, you wouldn't be here, like you are, if you were the kind of person who not only condoned but practiced slavery. Here's my real question: Adain, did you want to be Dainie, and are you enjoying being Dainie now?"

Rose and Adain looked at each other. This was not the expected question. Rose wondered how Adain would answer it, and she realized she had a lot invested in the answer.

The seconds seemed to drag by; several times Adain started to open his mouth to answer, and then closed it again. He had agreed to one word, this would be two, but there could be no qualifiers on his answer. Finally, "No. Yes," in Adain's voice.

Robbie smiled, and Rose knew that the "yes" was the answer she had wanted to hear. Until she exhaled, Rose didn't realize she had been holding her breath. She smiled, realizing that the "yes" was the answer she had wanted to hear, also. She and Adain...and Dainie...would have a lot to discuss once this was over.

Adain, who had left his shot of Jack Daniels untouched during Rose's narration, at this point picked it up in an all male gesture and threw it down. And then, as the two women watched, he vanished and Dainie reappeared. In her soft feminine voice she asked, "Will that be all, ma'am?"

Rose looked to Robbie, who nodded her assent. She turned to Dainie. "Yes, dear, that will be all."

Dainie picked up the three empty glasses, placed them on her tray, gave the two ladies a curtsy, picked up the tray and left. Rose turned to Robbie and looked at her as if to say, "Okay, the ball's in your court now."

Robbie turned to Rose. Her face was unreadable. "Rose, do I look angry to you?"

"No, not particularly, Robbie."

"That's because I'm a damn good actress, Rose!" She allowed a certain bitterness into her voice. "I'm seething! I believe you. I didn't want to. Like you, I loved those two Bitches. My best friends! Ha! But I trust Stephanie. And, I think, now, you. The clincher was Dainie. Do you know that I, or rather Robert, met Adain Ben Hariesh?"

"What!?" Rose was shocked. This was something new.

"Robert was a Marine. Since he was, I am; once a Marine, always a Marine." Robbie saw the startled expression on Rose's face. "Do you find that shocking? You'd be surprised how many military personnel are transgendered. Anyway, Robert was stationed in Turkey and was given the job of driving his commanding officer, Major Daniels, and Adain Ben Hariesh when Mr. Ben Hariesh visited his base." She chuckled, and unconsciously slipped into first person. "I called him Mr. Ben Hariesh, and he told me to call him Adain, that Mr. Ben Hariesh was his father."

Rose smiled, remembering that Adain had said the very same thing to her when she had referred to him as Mr. Ben Hariesh on that long ago Friday.

"Of course, I didn't," continued Robbie. "In fact, as the driver, I took my orders from Major Daniels, and I really didn't have any conversation with him. But I sure could hear what the two of them were talking about. The Major was considering hiring one of Adain's firms to do some security work on the base. Normally, that kind of thing would have been handled by one of Adain's subordinates, but since he had been in the area, he had decided to come and talk with the Major himself. During the course of the conversation, Adain expressed his love for his people, and his love for America. He expressed his appreciation for all the help America had provided for his country, and his anger at the terrorists who were giving Islam and all Middle East people a bad name. As they talked, I remember thinking, 'Now, there is an honorable MAN! He'd make a damn fine Marine.' Now, you have to know that that is the finest compliment a Marine can pay a civilian. At the time, I had no idea that I would ever be wearing dresses and liking it, and I certainly didn't see any effeminacy on Adain's part." She paused, then continued. "Here's the bottom line. If Adain Ben Hariesh did not want to be a girl or look like a girl, and yet put himself through what he's been through for love of you and to do his part to get those Bitches, then what you've revealed must be true. That he's enjoying it now, makes me happy for him."

Suddenly she snapped, and Robert was there. His face contorted in rage, and he slammed his fists down on the coffee table, putting a crack in it. He stood, shaking, every nuance of his being screaming "alpha male". And in anguish, he shouted, "Damnit, I LOVED those two!" Just as suddenly as the rage appeared, it vanished, and Robbie was back. Smoothing her skirt under herself, she sat back down on the couch, crossed her legs at the ankles, folded her hands in her lap and looked over at Rose with an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry about your coffee table. Sometimes a little testosterone does wonders; I feel ever so much better and in control now." And then, her voice filled with icy determination, she continued, "Let's get Those Bitches, Adkins, too; you don't fuck with the Marines!"

Then, suddenly, she burst out laughing, and Rose looked at her, puzzled. Between the laughs, Robbie got out, "Well, actually, they did...fuck with a Marine, that is...and it was kinda fun, actually!" It dawned on Rose, and all of a sudden she started laughing, too.

Dainie, Salielah, and Stephanie burst through the door at the same time to see what all the shouting was about, and they stopped dead in their tracks. They were followed by Joyce, Bethany, Jessica, and Elizabeth. Then came Barbara and G.A., who had just shared a cab to the store and upon entering, heard the commotion in the back. Soon, all the conspirators were in the room, nine of them in a circle watching their leader and the new member hugging each other and laughing so hard the tears were leaving black mascara tracks down their faces, and dripping little black spots onto their blouses.

G.A., the only obvious male there, looked on as the others started to giggle. Soon, everyone except him was full out laughing, too. He looked around at the group, puzzled; "What?"

Joyce grabbed him, spun him around, and pushed him toward the door. "It's a girl thing, BROTHER, dear. Go get Georgieann; she'll understand."

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It was ironic, Robbie thought, as she stood waiting for the elevator to the street, that Joan intended her to be a spy on Vaingirls, for she was sure that WAS what Joan intended, while she was a spy for Vaingirls on Joan. She was, she realized, a double agent. As she rode down, she idly examined Joan's Discover card. She noted with more irony that the last three digits were 007. 'License to SHOP!' And she was giggling as she stepped out of the building onto Adams Street.

She couldn't help but notice the tall, handsome man standing by the doors, watching her. He was wearing a pair of black Dockers and a black polo shirt, with tan canvas deck shoes on his feet. He had, she thought, to be about 6'5" tall and about two hundred, fifty pounds, and that thought sent a feeling of dejavu through her. Shrugging, she turned away, but was still puzzling over it when she heard a voice she recognized. "Thought you might like a friend and some company about now, sis."

"Stephanie!" she said happily as she turned, pleasantly surprised, "where did yo..." She just stood there stunned, because in place of her girlfriend, there was the handsome man from the doorway. "St...Stephanie???"

"Steve," he said, in a deep, thoroughly masculine voice. Smiling, he held out his hand for a handshake, then dropped it. "Oh, hell!" And he swept her up in a hug, swung her around and set her down again. "Damn, you look good, girl!" He looked down into her eyes, grinning. "Stephanie's on vacation; she sent me in her place." He offered her his arm. "Will I do?"

Robbie took Steve's arm, and the two turned to walk down Adams toward the mecca of Carsons and Fields. "Well, I'll miss Stephanie, and I hope she'll come back from time to time, but..." she smiled up at him, "...you, sir, will do just fine!" 'Life doesn't get much better than this!' she thought.

'Life doesn't get much better than this!' Steve thought.

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Robbie had just been "finished" by the Vaingirls team, and was chatting with Joyce when Joan walked through the front door. She watched as Joan's mouth dropped open in amazement, and then struck a pose. In an amused voice, she asked, "You like?" for the second time that day.

Joan was speechless. Where Robbie had been the demure professional secretary earlier, perfectly dressed, coifed, and made up for the office, now she was Big Glamour personified. Joyce and Jessica had found the perfect dress, a floor length purple sequin gown that flashed and glittered with Robbie's every movement. Enough cleavage was visible to entice without being blatantly seductive. Her silver glitter hosed legs ended in purple glitter strappy four-inch heels with rhinestone straps, and, due to Robbie's pose, one of those fabulous legs was exposed right up to the stocking top through the thigh high slit up the side of the dress.

'I bet they'll flash and glitter like a strobe effect as she walks,' thought Joan. Diamonds - Joan was willing to bet they WERE diamonds - glittered at wrists, throat, and ears. Elizabeth had pulled her blonde hair back into an updo that then swept down to her shoulder blades in a cascade of curls; curled tendrils framed her face. Like her cleavage, that face had been dramatically made up by Bethany to entice without being blatantly seductive. Joan stared in awe, and it wasn't even dollar signs this time - at least not right away. 'Within five minutes of her entering a room,' she thought, 'every man will have cum in his pants!' That made her think of Rose. 'If Rose doesn't want to go back, I wonder what Adain would pay for Robbie?'

What she said was, "OHMYGAWD!" And then, in a repeat of that afternoon, "I DO like, in fact I LOVE it!" She turned to Joyce, and extended her hand for a professional handshake, not going for the friendly hug. "Joyce, so nice to see you again."

Secretly glad that Joan was keeping this on a professional level - she didn't know if she was a good enough actress to give her a friendly hug - Joyce extended her hand also, and the two women shook. "Nice to see you, too, again, Joan," she said. "You certainly have made quite an impression on Robbie; you - and Lou and Ed - are all she can talk about. She says this is all for those two?"

Joan laughed. "Yes. You Vaingirls really are miracle workers. We are DEFINITELY going to knock their socks off!" And she gave Joyce a condensed version of the story Robbie had told her.

"This is going to be SO neat!" chimed in Robbie. "Those two think I'm still in PANTS!"

Joyce smiled at the two. She spoke to Joan. "Well, Joan, as you know, we've been sort of on the outs with Louise and Edwina. Robbie has certainly convinced us that we must be wrong about them. I will have to mend some fences. If you think about it, you might pass on that I will be in touch with them shortly." This was all working out so well, she thought. She remembered her old eighth grade history teacher telling her class about how at the outbreak of World War I, the French war plan, Plan 17, had seemed designed to cooperate with the German VonSchlieffen Plan. 'Joan's plans are just like that; I couldn't have made them better!'

Joan took the bait. "I certainly will, Joyce. Lou and Ed can be a little over the top at times, and they certainly have been devious with Robbie here, but all the manipulation was in the spirit of good fun. (As if their minds were linked, Joyce and Robbie thought, 'Bitch!' at the same moment.) And it's in that same spirit that Robbie here decided to turn the tables on them tonight; I'm just helping her out and going along to see the expressions on the faces of those two when this dazzling creature walks in!" She smiled at Robbie.

Robbie curtsied.

Joyce made shooing motions with her hands. "You two get along, now! Robbie, you come back and give us a blow by blow report. Bring pictures! You do have a camera, right?"

Joan nodded. "I do. I'll be tonight's photographer, don't worry." She turned to Robbie. "Let's go, gorgeous!" And they exited the store.

Robbie ducked her head and arm back in, and gave Joyce a surreptitious thumbs up. Joyce watched the closing door with an altogether different kind of smile on her face, a smile Joan would not have liked in the least.

 

 

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