Jacqui

By

Karen Anne Summerfield and Kelly Ann Rogers
© August 2002

 

Part VII - Makeover and Kurt's Return

_______________________________________________________________

 

Saturday morning, Melissa drove me to Carla's salon, where I had gotten my first bubble cut and makeover last spring. That had truly been in another life. Melissa and I were both there to get the works, but, unlike our first visit, when we had left looking quite like twins, this time we were going to end up looking quite different.

Melissa came out a blonde. Her now lustrous, softly curled hair was brushed off her face to give her a delicate, clean look. Her makeup was now softer and more natural looking with subtle earth tones accenting her eyes and a hushed brownish red color on her lips.

I couldn't have looked more different. I really wanted my hair longer, but when I told Carla what I wanted, she just snorted. "I'm in charge of how you look and you'll please me," she said. My hair was restyled just as before, in a spherical bob, only this time, my bangs were even fuller.

I had also asked to have my roots died black. If I was going to be oriental, I figured I should have black hair. Carla had other ideas, however, and had made her wishes clear to the salon. My hair was now several shades of red.

My long, thick bangs and the very front of the sides of my cut were an almost fluorescent pinky orange. Looking from the front, it was the only color you could see; an unnatural hue that only a rock singer might chose. The rest was a darker looking red, almost magenta, with lots of streaks that matched my bangs. My makeup was equally as garish, with lots of dark charcoal around my eyes, heavily applied black liner and lots on mascara to blend my natural lashes with the long thick, false ones the technician had glued in place. An orangey red defined my high cheeks, while bright red that clashed with my hair colors coated my lips and suddenly long fingernails.

I looked like a hooker, or an anime character, with huge eyes and full, parted lips. Because I was six feet tall in my six-inch heels, everyone would have a clear view of my face and I would draw attention wherever I went. I was a very attractive, as in I’d attract people's stares, and well-coifed hooker, but a hooker nonetheless. I was mortified and scared of what Kurt might think if I showed up at the airport looking like this. Hell, I might even get arrested by the airport police, if I showed up looking like this.

Panicked, I 'borrowed' a cell phone from a purse in the changing room and called Henry. I told him to pick me up an hour and a half early and directed him to buy me some conservative clothes and specific items of makeup. I couldn't change the hair, but I could certainly tone down the rest of me, I thought.

It's a good thing I had called him too, because Carla had not only selected my hair color, nails, and makeup, but she had prepared an outfit for me. She led me into her room as soon as she had inspected the new look, which she’d selected.

"It’s time to get ready to go meet your boyfriend, so strip down, sweetie," Carla said, as I stared at the outfit on her bed. "This is a big day for you. I'm taking off your chastity belt. I think you should be free of it whenever you go out with a man, in case you get lucky."

I shivered even though it wasn't cold. I didn't like the implications of that. She was keeping me belted to keep me from enjoying sex by myself or with a woman, but wanted me to be available for men. I would not have put it past her to set me up to get raped.

I shook that thought off as I examined the clothes on the bed. The first thing that grabbed my attention was a seemingly minuscule pair of shiny leopard-skin, stirrup pants. Carla noticed me looking at them right away.

"Aren't they great?" she asked, bright-eyed as an innocent child, "And guess what? Because they're so tight, you won't be able to wear panties."

"No panties?" I squeaked, as I lay my uniform on the bed before taking everything else off. "Why not?"'

"Think of the panty-line dear," she said, giggling. "We can't let you out showing a panty line. But don't worry, look what I got you instead." She handed me a tiny thong.

"What?" I gasped as she placed the slippery piece of lingerie in my hand. "There's nothing there!" Carla, and now Melissa, who had just joined us to watch me get dressed, both laughed.

"This nothing," giggled Carla again, taking it back from me to show me how it went, "cost a pretty penny. It's made of the slinkiest stretch satin money can buy. I wanted you to feel special when you meet your boyfriend.

"Special?" I squeaked, "I'll feel naked."

"Be that as it may," said Carla, you're wearing them. Now finish getting undressed and put these on. We mustn't keep Henry waiting. He'll be here early, you know. He just called."

"Early?" I said, doing my best to sound surprised. Of course, the pitch of my voice made me sound surprised whether I wanted to or not. I took off everything, but my corset.

"That goes too dear, turn and around and let Melissa untie it." I turned my back and Melissa removed the corset. Then she measured my waist.

"Twenty-three and a half inches," said Melissa proudly, as if she had anything to do with it. "Now that's what I call successful figure training."

I ran my hands down my sides and could feel them curve in when they got to my waist and then curve out again over my hips. I was pleased, but I repressed the smile and slid the ridiculous little black wisp up my legs, settling it above my hips. Right away, I didn't like the feeling of the string that slid up between my cheeks. Why would anyone wear such a thing? But what really blew me away, was the way the tiny little triangle of fabric in the front snuggled so tightly over my ... my ... vagina? It actually made the lips puff out on either side, accentuating rather than hiding them. I pulled the edges out to try to get it settled and then stroked it a couple of times. Carla slapped my hand away.

"I’ll not tolerate you playing with your twat," she instructed. When I looked up, she was watching me with a look of triumph on her face.

"Feels wonderful, doesn't it Jacqui? You always were a girl at heart. Just wait until you have some man put his hand on top of it and start to rub. You'll thank me then," she smirked. I frowned in response.

Carla handed me the pants. "Melissa and I agreed that you have earned the right to wear pants again, now that you are so completely female," she sniggered. "I'm sure you'll love these."

I struggled to get them on and was simply appalled at the look. They were the very definition of skintight. They were so tight; I would have been paralyzed by them if they hadn't been made out of a stretchy Lycra. But they did stretch, and I could move quite easily. I just knew they would give my smallish ass world-class emphasis. I rubbed my hand over the back of my hip and understood why women wear thongs. A hair would have shown through these pants, if it had been lying against my hip.

More striking to me, however, was how flat my front was. The low cut pants covered the small mound above my pubis as if I truly was a leopard, then dove down between my legs without even a ripple. I stepped over to Carla's mirror to look at myself. The space between my legs actually made me gasp aloud. The way those pants stretched, so evenly from one leg to the other, and from the waistband down to the slot where my groin disappeared between my legs was the most female thing I'd ever seen. And it was me. I gaped as I looked at the new me for the first time.

Carla and Melissa were smirking at me. It was easy to see why. Carla held out a ridiculous top in black lurex with gold threads running through it. That wasn't the bad part. No, the top was ringed with fringe and I could just imagine where the fringe would hang.

Once I had it on, my worst fears were realized. The top was cut very low, a deep vee running from far out on each shoulder down towards the middle of my chest, well below the tops of my breasts. I was showing tons of cleavage along with the top halves of my breasts. The bottom was cropped, leaving my midriff and navel exposed. The fringe hung down from nipple height, all the way around, as if I was a stripper, ready to shake it around on a gaudily lit stage. I was appalled. I could only gasp out, "You've got to be kidding?"

"Oh no, honey, we're not," hissed Carla, "And here're your shoes. You'll love them too."

I didn't think so. They were tall, strappy, platform sandals in black patent leather. The clear plastic, platform soles must have been over and inch and the heels seven inches.

"I can't walk in these," I said, as I stood up. "I'll kill myself."

"Just take short steps and be sure to swing your hips," laughed Melissa. I could tell that I would have to, or risk falling off. To this, they added a zebra-stripped purse and a ridiculous fake fur jacket, cropped above my waist. No doubt about it. They had dressed me as a whore.

"Why are you so cruel to me?" I asked, stupidly.

"Because you deserve it, you fucking pansy!" snapped Carla, so harshly that even Melissa cringed. "You humiliated me with your stupid girly games, you almost ruined the business and you're stupid enough to let me get away with it!" She was almost spitting, she was so angry. By the time she had finished, she had backed me up to the door of her room even though I was looking down on her by several inches. "You tricked me into marrying you and now I'm getting my revenge. You make me sick."

Despite being taken totally aback by the ferocity of her anger, I couldn't miss the comment about humiliating her. Where had that come from, I wondered, now worried that she might actually attack me.

"You can’t go out looking like that." Carla’s mood suddenly changed. She was starting at my exposed belly. "Take off your jacket and top." Her change of heart brightened me.

"Melissa run and get that new red corset. The pressure marks from her other corset and red streaks from its laces and bones simply ruin the entire look I wanted."

The corset was long enough and had big enough bra cups to be a bustier, but was still heavily boned. Thank goodness it came well up to my breasts, but not covering the nipples. Melissa laced me tightly into the leather garment. When she tied off, I felt and heard a click in the small of my back.

"What did you just do?" I asked.

"She locked it, you silly twit!" Carla snapped.

This was no better than the previous top in terms of advertising sex, but Carla at least calmed down quickly once I had it on, and just said to me. "Get out of here. Wait for your driver by the maid's entrance. I only wish I could be at the airport to see Kurt laugh at you when he gets in, you pitiful excuse for a sissy."

I opened the door and teetered downstairs as quickly as I could. Actually the shoes weren't that bad. I'd worn very high heels before, the only difference this time was that the soles were inflexible and really made me concentrate on putting the heel and toe down together.

By the time I had gotten to the kitchen, I had calmed down only somewhat. Carla had really gone off the deep end and I really needed to get out of her house and life. I could only pray the Kurt would help me, because if he wouldn't, I didn't know what I would do. I walked around the kitchen, practicing in my heels as I waited for Henry. After a few minutes, I couldn't resist and went into the foyer to check myself out in the full-length mirror.

There was only one word for me - Outrageous! Perched on those heels, my legs seemed to go on forever and, covered in shiny leopard-skin print, they were shockingly, luridly sexy. The little jacket was ridiculous, but when I took it off, the combination of my tiny waist and huge tits in their red leather wrapping was scandalous. I had never tried to be blatantly sexy before, but now I looked like I had escaped from a bad porno movie. God, I was a teenage boys wet dream, a totally tasteless knock-out. I was sexier than any woman I had ever seen in real life.

I was mortified too. Everyone would be looking at me carefully. In fact, they would be studying me. And as ridiculous as it now was, I still held every cross-dresser's fear of being read and outed. I just wasn't used to being the center of attention anywhere, and now all eyes would be on me everywhere I went. Men would lust after me and woman would hate me. What was I going to do?

As I was becoming increasingly agitated with myself, just beginning to realize that I was a caricature of sex object, the back doorbell rang. I grabbed the stupid little jacket and the ridiculous purse and hurried to greet Henry.

When I threw open the back door, slightly out of breath from having rushed through the house to get there, Henry's face struggled to maintain its professional mask even as his mouth fell open. For a moment, he was paralyzed. He hadn't known what to expect, but after he got over his initial surprise, and had drawn his eyes back from my tits to my face, it was obvious that what he saw distressed him.

"Hi Henry," I said, trying to keep my voice from squeaking, but it's ridiculous pitch brought him back to his senses.

"Jacqui?" he said, still trying to recover.

"Yes, Henry. It's me," I replied in a slightly shaking tone of voice. "This is why you never want to piss Carla off," I said smilingly ruefully.

His eyes jerked up and down in his head a few times, trying to make sense of the thing standing in front of him before he recovered and said, "Come along, I brought some things for you in the car." He escorted me to the big Rolls.

"I do hope that these will, do, Jacqui," he hesitantly offered. "I had to guess your sizes." He removed the plastic covering from the suit.

"Did you tell Suzanne these were for me?" Her logo was on the wrapper. I hadn't thought to tell him to shop there, but he had driven me to the boutique before.

"Suzanne and her sister own the store where you bought the suit," I explained.

"Ah yes. I did not, at first, tell the woman your name, but she guessed it once I had described you, Jacqui."

"Then these will fit." I checked the other bags. "Where’s the make-up?" I heard Henry draw in his breath and raised my head to see his upset fade.

"Forgot the makeup, huh? It’s OK; I’ll manage. Shall we get going?"

Once I’d changed into the suit, about all I could do with the makeup in my ridiculous purse was to remove the hideously colored rouge from me cheeks. I replaced it with a thin blush of red using the lipstick. It looked better. I sat back to try to calm myself.

I didn't permit Henry to drop me at the arrivals terminal once we’d reached Kennedy. I didn’t think I looked like a hooker any longer, but I wasn't sure I had graduated much past high priced call girl. Few hookers wear thousand dollar suits of polished, black kidskin or five hundred dollar high-heeled boots, but then, not many women in expensive clothes have pink and magenta hair.

"Henry, give me an honest answer. Do I look alright?"

He just looked at me bug-eyed and said, "What do you mean by alright? You look like a goddess.

I blushed and looked down. When I looked up he was examining me closely and said, "Although I would lose the pink in the hair." His twinkling smile let me know he was joking with me. The pink was totally bizarre.

I turned heads in the lobby of the International Arrivals terminal when I entered. At first, I was quite anxious about being stared at, but when I finally realized that nothing bad was going to happen to me because of it, I relaxed enough to find the people who were checking me out amusing. There was a wide variety of feelings reflected in their expressions: awe, lust, jealousy, amazement, curiosity and more. The variations seemed endless. I had never known there were so many different kinds of leers, but I had to give up studying people because it seemed that every guy whose eye I caught thought I was coming on to him. I quickly went into a demure approach, casting my eye down.

I started to wonder which look would have been on John's face had he been there, but quickly dismissed that tack; it led nowhere useful. I was Jacqui and there was no going back, although I swore to get my hair color fixed the first time I had the opportunity.

Even with my chauffeur near me, the stares never let up, but I saw more curiosity than I think I would have without him. Was I some very rich Chinese actress? Well, actress wasn't a bad way to think of it, although I wasn't on the set of any film.

My interest in the crowd disappeared the moment I saw Kurt exit from the Customs inspection area pushing a cart laden with luggage. Though Henry rushed to assist, I remained where I'd been standing, my heart pounding in my chest. I was suddenly feeling very insecure, scared that Kurt would find me ridiculous. The fear erased my desire to make my way through the throng between us. As they approached me, I saw that Henry and Kurt were engaged in conversation, and Kurt appeared agitated, if not angry.

"Why isn't she here?" I heard him demand. "I did make it explicit that I wanted to see her, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir. But..."

"Don't 'but' me, Henry! I've warned you before about how I feel about your back talk! Now be silent!"

"But, sir?"

"Henry!" Kurt bellowed his name so loudly, the terminal actually quieted, somewhat.

Kurt stopped only a few feet from me. Because he seemed so angry, I remained quiet, now even more afraid to approach him. He faced Henry.

"Did you even telephone Jacqui? Answer me - yes or no?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what did she say?"

"Jacqui said she would be here, sir. And..."

"Just shut up!" Kurt was so angry I could see the artery in his neck pounding. He looked around and his eyes briefly passed over me as they scanned the terminal.

"Get a move on! Go fetch the car, Henry!" Kurt thrust out his arm with a finger waving toward the door.

Kurt muttered as Henry pushed the luggage cart out.

After stabbing the keys on his cell phone, Kurt placed it to his cheek and seemed lost in the phone as he wandered about.

"Melissa, this is Mr. Mark," I heard him say. "Please, I wish to speak to Jacqui?" He paused to listen. I looked into his blue eyes as they danced over me from just three feet away. Kurt started to chuckle then laughed aloud.

"I cannot continue the game longer," he was laughing and smiling broadly. "Come to me, Jacqui." He said that while stretching his arms to encircle my body. I was so relieved; I threw myself right into them. Kurt hugged me tightly for a moment before I pulled my face back and silently asked for a kiss. He didn't disappoint me.

"You are beautiful, my dear, just stunning," he said as he broke the kiss. The awe in his voice made it clear he wasn't exaggerating. "And your lips are simply delicious." He grabbed me again into a tight hug. "I've missed you," he whispered into my ear. "How have you been?"

"Lonely," I whispered back, not wanting him to hear my voice. "I missed you too." I felt very secure in his arms.

"You missed me so much your hair turned pink?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

"Carla," was all I had to say.

"You can tell me about that later, Henry has already alerted me that something was going on. Do not worry, liebling, I will protect you, even if you insist upon having pink hair."

"Oh, God Kurt, just hold me. I've been so scared, but now I'm so relieved I'm not sure I can stand."

"I will hold you up. Do not worry. Come, let us get out of this horrid place." We walked out front with his arm about my waist, holding me close. There, he turned me so that we were face to face, and held me at arms distance with both of his hands encircling my waist.

As we stood at the door of the terminal, Kurt said, "Stand still, let me look at you again." He took a step back and gazed at me for a moment. "Your face is truly beautiful," he said with wonder in his voice. I started to melt. I had vowed that I was going to tell him about all the pain I'd been through, not the physical pain from the surgeries, but the mental anguish Carla had caused by stealing my life from me through her manipulations and fraud. Kurt cut me off by saying, "But the hair is a little too much, don't you think?"

I could only giggle in response. When I stopped, I said, "Please stop teasing me, I'm afraid I'm a little too fragile for it now."

"Well then," he said in reply nodding his head to indicate the teasing about my silly hair was over. "How do you like these then, Jacqui?" As he had moved back in front of me, he raised his left hand to my breast. Although it was somewhat flattened by my leather jacket, it was still obviously quite large. I blushed furiously and had to push his hand from my right breast.

"Not here, please?" I squeaked. His touch had thrilled me, but it was very embarrassing to be fondled in such a public place.

He withdrew readily, saying, "Later then?" I could only blush and say, "Yes, please."

"Ah, you found her then, sir." Henry had a broad grin and winked at me while opening the door to the passenger compartment.

"Yes, I seem to have," Kurt chuckled. "She would be a hard one to loose, wouldn't she? Tell me, Henry, isn't Jacqui just the most beautiful girl you ever saw?" I blushed; I believed he was serious.

"Yes sir, she is. I think the pink hair in front is an especially pleasing touch."

"Stop it, both of you. You're embarrassing me," I squeaked as I got in back and sat. Kurt settled beside me. As Henry pulled away, Kurt was staring at me again.

"Your voice is not what I expected, Jacqui." I glared at him, but said nothing.

"Are you angry?" he asked. My, he was being very perceptive!

"Yes," I continued to whisper.

"Why? You are truly beautiful."

"And I sound like a four year old!" I retorted. "Carla had no right to do this to me!"

Kurt continued to study me as we rode toward Manhattan. We both remained silent, thinking our own thoughts. I wanted to cuddle up to him, but was feeling intimidated and insecure.

After a few miles, he asked. "Where would you like to dine?"

I thought of saying 'McDonald's^®', but what would be the point? Looking as I did and dressed as I was, I'd be even more out of place in a burger joint than at a fancy restaurant.

"The best seafood place that you know of," I answered in my hateful squeak.

"Ah," he said brightening, "then we shall have breakfast in Portland, Maine. Would you like dinner before the drive, Jacqui?" He was joking, right? The fact that I wasn't sure whether he was joking showed just how insecure I was feeling.

"I'd like lobster, but between here and home. Perhaps we can enjoy it another time in Maine … for breakfast?"

He smiled then pulled me in for a kiss. I met his lips so gratefully that I frightened myself a little.

I moved my cheek to rest on his shoulder when we broke; it was nice. His hand covered my head as it rested there.

"This color won't run on my shoulder, will it?" he said, continuing to tease me. I just sat up and pouted at him. I wanted to be angry that he was making fun of my hair, but he had such an endearing look on his face I couldn't. In fact, he was starting to get tears in the corners of his eyes as he looked at me. 'What's going on?' I thought, starting to get anxious again.

"Jacqui, I never thought I could fall in love after Erica."

 

What? I started to rise off his shoulder, but he pressed me back.

"Lie still and listen to me," he said gently. His hand stroked my hair. I knew I'd never win any physical contest with him. I had discovered after getting home from the hospital that Melissa had been feeding me a cocktail of female hormones and testosterone blockers from the first day she had arrived. That was one of the main reasons she did most of the cooking. They, along with my tight corsets and the surgery, had turned me into a true weakling. I relaxed and lay still.

"Erica was the joy of my life, mon raison d'etre. She was a beautiful lady, but while I loved her dearly, I always admired a feminine beauty and physical grace, both of which had been denied to her.

‘What exactly was he saying?’ I couldn't figure out where he was going, but it was obvious I was somehow involved.

"What are you trying to say to me, Kurt?" I hesitated, but had to ask.

"Erica had her spine broken on the Autobahn in a wreck caused by a drunk." I didn't want to hear about that.

"Where are we going to dinner?" I asked him, trying to stay away from what I feared would be an uncomfortable conversation.

"No," he went on, "I have to tell you."

"You are a graceful beauty, Jacqui. I find you irresistibly attractive.

"Kurt," I squeaked, "you're crazy. I look like a hooker and sound like Betty Boop on helium. Now where are we going to eat?"

I felt his chest silently chuckle against my face. "Okay, he sighed. You win for now, but I'm not giving up. I know a bistro near where the Fulton Fish Market was." He picked up the gosport and instructed Henry.

From the outside, the place looked like a dive. In fact, calling it a dive would have been a compliment; it was small, grimy, and dark. Its exterior belied the service and the food. 'Great' was not enough! The atmosphere within the candlelit confines was pure elegance.

"I would like a small steamed lobster with drawn butter and the smoked eel for an appetizer, please?" I asked after reading the single-page menu. Kurt stared blankly when I'd said that.

"Interesting. Do you know that most of the eel in Europe is imported from America, Jacqui?"

"I’ve heard that," I answered. Kurt was scanning the wine list still.

"None for me, remember?" I reminded him. He smiled in response.

"Ah, yes, 7-Up^®?" I nodded.

We both had the eel and it was delicious. I enjoyed my lobster, eating it slowly while Kurt feasted on a broiled seafood combo that I thought could have fed three, as huge as it was. I was enjoying the sensation of finishing a meal without feeling over stuffed.

"Dessert?" Kurt offered, "They've a very good selection." I didn't believe he expected me to order anything. I never had before.

"Yes, I'd like something with enough chocolate in it to poison me. I've not had a real dessert in many months."

"Kurt, let's get out of here," I said as I finished the last little trace of chocolate mousse off my spoon. If this hadn't been such an elegant restaurant, I would have shoved my tongue into the shimmery flute the mousse had come in. It was that good.

"This was exquisite, but we're sitting way to far apart, and being close to you is what I want now." Throughout our meal, I had been thinking about how Kurt had touched my breast at the airport. I didn't dwell on how embarrassed I had been having my breast touched in public, as I might have done in June or July, but instead was having a hard time getting the sensations that had rippled through my body under Kurt's gentle touch out of my mind.

I wanted something when we left the restaurant. I wanted to explore the heat I felt deep inside from his touches and caresses, but troubling thoughts were clouding my mind and I couldn't resolve them.

Once we had settled back inside the Rolls, I drew the curtains across the windows and adjusted the lights. Kurt was grinning when he saw me move to the rear facing jump seat.

"What are you doing, little maid?" he asked when I moved my fingers and started to open the buttons of my fitted jacket.

Hesitantly, I began to tell him everything that had happened to me, beginning with my excessive plastic surgery, and on through the kidnapping from the hospital, and the involuntary castration and unwanted SRS.

"Henry has already informed me of some of this Jacqui." He sounded troubled. "I wish I could have been here to protect you."

"I don't want to hear it!" I snapped in my stupid voice. I was trying to relay a confidence that my voice couldn't carry and I didn't feel. Once I had shrugged out of my jacket, I neatly folded it then set it on the adjacent cushion. For several minutes I neither spoke nor moved - I just sat and thought carefully about what I wanted to say while Kurt ogled my breasts, which were pushed up and exposed by tight red leather corset. I sat straight up, holding my breasts thrust out in front of me.

"Do you realize what you are doing?" Kurt’s eyes were focused on my breasts.

It was a bit of a surprise to realize that I was unconsciously playing with my nipples. I continued and tried to arouse myself, putting on a small show as if I was a stripper in a cheap bar. I was angry at Kurt. He should have been there to save me.

"Fraeulein Jacqui, you are truly beautiful. I am sorry. What was done ist wrong?"

"Yes, I do," I whispered. Then I sat back up as straight as I could, now displaying my breasts, holding each one up as if I was offering them to him.

"Is this what you want Kurt? A freak? A Barbie Doll created by a vengeful woman to humiliate her weak, submissive husband?" I had no idea why I'd said that. Was I testing him? I had to be an idiot trying to drive the only person who could save me away.

"Jacqui, you are in pain. Do not make it worse with hateful words. They will do no good for you and they won't drive me away." He looked down and sighed. When he looked back up, there were tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I do not want to lose you. It would break my heart in two to lose what I adore for a second time in my life." The tears began to trickle from the corners of his eyes to his cheeks.

"Please sit with me," he went on, reaching his hand out to me. "Let me show you my love. Allow me the chance to repair your hurt, which Carla has caused you to feel."

Could I refuse? No, his tears and my own need pulled me across the short distance, which I had created because of my own pain.

As soon as I had seated myself beside him, Kurt reached for my jacket and slipped it over my shoulders, although I didn't button it.

"Jacqui, one day I hope to enjoy your body fully, but not now. You are suffering and not thinking clearly. This is not the right way. Put your head on my shoulder and let me hold you. That is what you need now."

"Please?" I was pleading with him. "Touch my breasts?" I took his hand and slipped it under my jacket, directing it to my breast. He held still for a moment and then started to caress me. I let my head fall back onto his shoulder and tried to open myself to the sensations.

My man, yes my man, started to fondle my breasts. Once upon a time, when Melissa had teased me about Kurt being my boyfriend, I had protested. Now my man was causing the most pleasurable sensations to course through my brain. I couldn't stop myself; I twisted in my seat and reached up to kiss him.

I was soft on his lips, not urgent. I nibbled and tugged on his lower lip and teased the top one with my tongue. He tentatively let his tongue out to explore mine. I encouraged him by pressing my lips more firmly against his and then seeking is tongue more aggressively. After a few minutes of this sweet, tentative exploration, a moan left my throat that surprised us both, but I knew just what it meant and dove into his kiss with all my heart.

Once he had held me with a threatening grip. Now, he was wasn't holding me at all. I was gratefully snuggled into his side, while his fingers, kneaded, squeezed, and caressed me. It was his affection, which had a grip on me.

It felt frustratingly wonderful - wonderful because of the wild sensations his gentle hands sent pulsing throughout my entire being and frustrating because I was ready for his actions at the center of my sex.

"Mmm ... that feels soooo good." My eyes were closed as I murmured. I took his hand and placed it over my vagina. "Touch me here Kurt. Let me know how a woman feels."

He allowed his hand to linger and to caress my gently through my skirt. But then he said, "Not tonight, liebling. I am tired and you are too eager. We must ease into this and make it beautiful."

"I'll give you all week to stop."

Even though I was already writhing beneath his caresses, sat up and looked at him. Didn't he love me? What kind of man would stop when a woman asks him to go further? The look in his eyes and on his face was very clear. He adored me, but was worried about me.

As soon as he had seen that I understood, he put one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side with the other. I just sighed with contentment. Yes, I wanted to feel sexual arousal, but no, there wasn't really any rush. Actually, right then, feeling secure was much better. The little game I had played by flaunting my breasts at him had been pointless. I still wasn't sure what I had intended to accomplish, but it didn't matter. I had what I really needed anyway.

I had to change back into the outfit Carla had dressed me in before I could go back into the house. Needless to say, Kurt was flabbergasted. "She made you go out like that?" He asked in wonder. "Why does she hate you so?"

I just shook my head sadly as I sat by the car door, pulling the fake fur jacket over my corset. I still didn't understand the depth of Carla's anger or the lengths she had gone to for revenge. As I sat on the seat, my legs partly spread as I worked on my face, Kurt got down on his knees and stuck his face in my crotch. He nuzzled and kissed and even gave me a few little bites as I as there with my arms out, startled by his actions.

"Jacqui, dear," he said looking up, "you will wear this for me sometime in the future. " It wasn't a question.

"I will?" I squeaked.

"Yes, you will. This screams sex and I must have some. I have never seen anything as sexy and the space between your legs."

"You pig!" I squealed, grabbing his head in both hands and driving it back down into my vagina. "You men are all the same. You all want whores for girlfriends. A pair of big tits and skintight pants and you're behaving like a teenager in heat."

"Perhaps," he said looking back up at me, "but at my age, that's a pretty amazing feeling. But just remember, when it comes to protecting you, I'm no teenager. You have nothing to fear from here on."

I fell asleep in my bunk that night with fond memories of my evening. As I softly caressed my nipples with one hand and my pussy with the other, I imagined that it was Kurt who was between my legs and actually started to look forward the having him inside of me. I was still scared, but knew this was something I had to do. Not for him, but for me. It was one way 'little' Jacqui was going to become a real woman.

*****

It was still very warm during the third week of September, so Ms. Martin hosted another pool party. Nearly a hundred guests had been invited, many of whom I'd never met. The last minute cleaning and the preparation of the refreshments kept Melissa and me very busy throughout the week. I guess I was getting used to my new body, though my breasts still surprised me on occasion by getting in the way. I was growing increasingly unhappy with the chastity belt, which was terribly intrusive, making me aware of its presence, and therefore my status, at all times.

I had been rushing around as the party started and didn't see Kurt come in, but as I was serving a tray of shrimp toast to the guests, I saw him looking at me strangely. He waited until my tray was empty before approaching me.

"Guten Tag, Kurt. Wie gehts?" I smiled and curtseyed.

"Guten Tag, Magd Jacqui," he returned my greeting with a huge smile. "I am well." I moved closer and lifted my mouth for a kiss.

"You will make the others jealous," he teased.

I smiled up into his eyes. "Let them be. I am very fortunate that you are mine." Kurt hugged me to him and kissed me intimately.

"I must ask a favor of you, please?" I said after we had broken apart. "Ms. Martin asked me to request that you allow me to spend most of my time serving her other guests today, Kurt?" I asked.

"Yes, you seem busy. But first will you serve me a beer, bitte?"

"Certainly." I curtseyed and went to the keg to fill a glass for him. My nemesis, Jim Wilson, moved to intercept me. I had given my previous encounters with him some thought, and put my own plan into action before he could act on his.

"Hello, sir. I guess you'd like a kiss today?" I simply leaned into him and planted a noisy one right on his cheek. Apparently, his buddies had been watching us because they gave me a big cheer as I trotted over to the beer keg. I turned and gave them a bright smile and a big curtsey. My plan must have worked, because to my delight, he did not bother me for the rest of the day. After I served his beer, Kurt moved to mingle with the other guests.

I found myself strangely jealous as I watched him interact with the other women. I guess I wanted all his attentions for myself. I had hoped he would have rescued me from Carla by then, but he had convinced me to be patient. He thought it would be best to give his lawyers the opportunity to thoroughly review the phony medical files and forged passport Carla had given me.

Of course, he was right. Until we had Carla trapped, it would be best to do nothing. For the time being, the most effective course of action would be for me to remain as Carla’s maid. Reluctantly, I had agreed to act submissively and pretend that her hold over me was unshakable. Kurt gave me confidence that I’d eventually triumph; though right then, acting as a serving girl, I wasn't feeling very optimistic.

"Jacqui?" Carla's call interrupted my thoughts. When I looked over, she motioned for me to join her. She was talking with Dave Crawford, his wife, Judy, and Toni Bauer. "Come here, please?"

"Yes, mum?" Carla formally introduced me to people I'd known for years, even though I'd served then at the earlier parties.

"Jacqui, Mr. and Mrs. Crawford will be entertaining some clients at their home next Saturday and thought that it might be nice if they had a maid to serve so that they both could maximize their time with their guests," Carla said, as if explaining something complex to a child.

Dave took over. "They represent a Swiss company that is considering establishing a small plant in the area, Jacqui. We thought that having a gorgeous and exotic Chinese maid might add a little extra flair to our party and help win their account." Obviously, they thought that maid should be me.

"I've told Davy that I'd be happy to loan you to them for the weekend," Carla was not making my participation optional. It was obviously a done deal.

"Yes, mum." I wasn't very pleased to be loaned out like a piece of luggage.

"They'll only be there for the evening, but I'll need you to prepare for the dinner, serve it then clean up afterwards. You may use one of our spare rooms while you are there," Judy told me. It sounded like nothing but work, but that didn't bother me at all. Serving in the home of John's best friend did. This was obviously another ploy of Carla's to humiliate me.

As I listened to Judy talk, I realized that being away from Carla and Melissa was definitely a plus under any circumstances. The Crawford’s were sure to treat me better than those two would.

"How many will be expected for dinner, mum?" Though Doctor Tobias had told me that my voice would become lower with time, it didn't seem to me that it had changed, at all, since I'd resumed speaking with it. I still hated it and felt humiliated when I heard it.

"There will be six besides my wife, me and Toni there," Dave explained. The situation just took a quantum leap for the worse. Briefly, I glanced at Toni who was grinning at me as if she had just won the state lottery.

"I'll pick you up about nine next Saturday and help you set things up, Jacqui." Toni grinned at me. She was obviously looking forward to this.

"Toni, she might need some help with her corsets and uniforms. Be a dear and do what you can for her there," Carla asked.

"Sure, Carla. It'll be my pleasure. You won't mind if I ask her to return the favor?"

Carla laughed. "Mind? Not at all. I swear, Toni, if I hadn't met some of your guys, I might think you were a lesbian." Carla joked.

"Well, I'll admit that with a doll like this," she nodded at me, "handy, I might just be tempted. But I really do prefer guys." Toni laughed brightly, making it into a joke.

"That will be all, Jacqui. Run along now and make sure my other guests are happy." Just like that, Carla had dismissed me. Her arrogant attitude, the demeaning way she treated me and the fact that she could loan out like an object, made me burn with resentment! The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that she would be soon getting her just rewards.

Melissa and I were kept very busy throughout the afternoon and early evening tending the big crowd. By seven-thirty most of the guests had left. Kurt summoned me to his side and handed me a soda.

"I've been watching you work all day, Jacqui. You must be exhausted. Come, sit with me for a few minutes. Surely Carla will not object if you rest for a moment."

I didn't care what Carla thought, I was thankful to be off my feet and do just what Kurt suggested.

"I have tickets to the ballet at Lincoln Center next Saturday night. I would like you at my side," Kurt said as I sipped my soda.

"Oh Kurt, Thank you for asking me. I'd love to. I really would. But I can't." I tried to look as disappointed as I felt.

He scowled as he realized I was turning down his invitation. "I will have words with, Carla."

"Kurt, you promised me," I pleaded.

"I must serve at a party at the Crawford's next weekend. It's business." He thought about it for a moment and then waved Dave Crawford over to discuss my commitment.

Kurt told Dave about his problem, adding, "Perhaps you could use Carla's other maid, David?"

"Sorry, Kurt," Dave replied. "It doesn't matter to me, but my wife has her heart set on Jacqui and there's no way I'm even going to try to change it. You'll just have to make other arrangements, Kurt, sorry." I'd have preferred the ballet; that was for sure.

Kurt was obviously very unhappy about this, so I took the opportunity to remind him that the sooner he got me out of there, the sooner he'd have my undivided attention. Then, before he left, I told him that I’d hidden my documents in a large envelop in the vanity of one of the downstairs guest bathrooms. He let me know he had it when we kissed good night.

"Look at it as broadening your resume, Jacqui," Melissa replied after I had told her about my job at the Crawford’s, as we prepared for bed. "There is nothing like good references, and the more the better, when you apply for a job in our profession. A maid can never have too many." I looked at her sourly.

"Plus, it should help you with the Immigration and Naturalization Service too, when you’ve been here long enough to apply for citizenship." She laughed at me openly, mocking the false status she had helped to create.

"Thanks for your help," I replied sarcastically. "But I don't plan on being a career maid." Of course, arguing with Melissa about being a maid was pointless, and I knew it. It would be impossible to try to dissuade the First Girl from thinking that there was any better career for me.

"I'm sure you never did, but that doesn't change what you know is right," Melissa shot back, positive she was right. "Besides, I don't think uneducated immigrants have that many choices." I saw no point in arguing, so I said nothing even after she added, "And besides, you don't have a choice. You are Ms. Martin's maid whether you want to be or not!"

God, I hoped she was wrong.

Again, we had a few overnight guests, and when I cleaned her suite the following morning it became obvious that Carla hadn't slept alone. This saddened me less and less, because I realized that she was not my wife anymore. Still, I couldn't entirely suppress my feelings; perhaps one day. One thing was certain, however, I was never sleeping with Carla again. In fact, about the only thing I could do with her now was to compete with her for men.

Shortly after I had come down to with my first load of laundry, the telephone rang. Unless I was alone, Melissa was to answer it.

"Good morning, Ms. Martin's residence, First Girl Melissa speaking. How may I serve you?" I heard her answer.

"Good morning, Mr. Mark. Yes, she's here." Melissa came out of the office.

"Your boyfriend's on the phone," she told me, although she knew I already knew that.

"Guten Morgen, Kurt mit eine K."

"Hello, Jacqui. I'd like to take you to dinner tonight, since you cannot accompany to the ballet on Saturday. Six o'clock?"

"I'd love to, Kurt. Let me ask Melissa. Today is her day off and one of us is supposed to be here on duty." I set the phone down once he'd said he would wait.

"Melissa," I curtseyed, "Kurt wants to take me out tonight at six. Would you please switch your day off with me?"

"Sure, but it'll cost you. I'll be out most of the day anyway. I'll be back by four to give you time to get yourself pretty. In return, you give me your entire day off."

I pursed my lips and frowned. That wasn't fair, but I knew I had no choice. If I pissed her off or offended her, she could just as easily turn me down. "Thank you," I curtseyed, "you're a real pal." I tried to sound as if I really meant it, but I'm sure she was wondering if I was being sarcastic. After all, why should I be so pleased that she just took advantage of me?

"It's OK. Six o'clock. How should I dress, Kurt?"

"Nothing too fancy. I'm sure you'll look nice in anything you select."

I happily did my chores for the rest of the day, looking forward to my evening out, and having my chastity belt off, even if only for a few hours. Though I had Melissa for company most of the time, my life had become lonely since Carla cast me out and only treated me as her servant. We no longer had no communication and since I couldn't trust Melissa, I didn't share anything important with her. With Kurt, I could share my thoughts and ... my body; being in his arms was more than just nice.

Looking through the rack that held my other wardrobe, (Melissa and I each had a separate one for all of our uniforms. In fact, Melissa had two), I looked for something I hadn't yet worn with Kurt. Though it was a bit young looking for my real age, I assembled a black wool mini and cashmere turtleneck. What to wear with them presented a small problem because none of my high heels looked right. I decided on my new black knee boots with five-inch heels that Henry had gotten me for the airport and black stockings. I knew I’d look sexy like that.

‘Sexy?' is that how I wanted to look when I went out? Yes! I had two new goals. One was to enjoy being Jacqui. As sexy as I looked, it just wouldn't work for me to skulk around trying not to be noticed. In fact, I was pretty sure that's what Carla intended. She wanted me to be embarrassed about being whom I was, to leave a humiliated John in Jacqui's body.

What she didn't understand though, was that I really was Jacqui, and I was happy about. What I had to do was to develop a more outgoing confident and outgoing style than I'd ever had before. I sure as hell didn't want to look like a hooker, but sexy was just fine, thank you. Besides, sexy girls have all sorts of advantages and are used to reaping their benefits. I would just have to learn how to do that.

My second goal was to share my body with Kurt. This was a new feeling for me and I was allowing myself to explore it for the first time. I figured I was sort of like a teenage girl, given my lack of experience with men, and so even though I was still full of doubts, I knew that thinking about sex with a man I was virtually in love with was natural. I would just have to overcome them, exactly the way any young girl who is about to make love for the first time does. In fact, I think the underlying anxiety made the whole thing more exciting! I felt daring. I couldn't wait to get my chastity belt off.

As she'd promised, Melissa returned about half past three and relieved me. She was thoughtful enough to offer to re-corset me so I could bathe.

"You do look sexy tonight, Jacqui," she commented when she saw what I was wearing.

 

How could I not look sexy, you twit, I thought to myself while smoothing the sweater over my seemingly gigantic breasts. Look what you and your sister did to me.

"You must be hoping to get lucky tonight. Have you and your boyfriend had sex yet?"

I laughed. "That's kind of personal, don't you think?"

"Yes, but I'm curious, anyway.

"No, we haven't had sex yet," I replied defensively. I immediately regretted having said anything at all. Melissa was not a friend, even though she often acted as if she were.

She giggled, "Not even by Bill Clinton's definitions?"

I said nothing, instead focused on my face as I sat before the vanity. That didn't stop Melissa though. She just went on, "We figured with you looking like the little slut you are, he’d have pumped your box as soon as he got you in the car last Saturday," Melissa laughed derisively.

"Well, I suppose any one of your dates would've had your legs spread before dinner," I said as huffily as I could. "But Kurt's a gentleman." I almost giggled when I recalled Kurt’s amusement as I’d redressed in that awful costume. Melissa didn't know about the leathers. Truth be told, they were no less sexy than the fringed top and leopard skin pants, but they were certainly less slutty.

"Well, just forget about getting laid tonight. Ms. Martin won't be home this evening, so you’re not getting out of your chastity belt. But still, even all locked up, there are other ways a girl can take care of her guy," she smirked.

A jumble of conflicting feelings washed through me. At first, I couldn't believe how disappointed I was to hear that my hoped for release wasn't going to happen. Damn! As soon as I became aware of that feeling, it was replaced, by a wave of relief as I realized that I wouldn't have to allow a man inside me just yet. Then just as quickly, I was angry that I would be wearing the belt at all.

Even though I’d been wearing the new chastity belt a much shorter time than my previous one, I hated it much more. Not that it was actually uncomfortable; it wasn’t, but the design was far more demanding and exerted greater control over me. I could never forget that I was wearing it. Combined with my tight corsets, it forced me sit in only a few different ways, all ramrod straight and upright. Hard seats were far more comfortable than the soft, deeply upholstered ones most people could enjoy. Thankfully, the seats in Kurt’s cars were firm.

So closely did the hip band match the contours of my corseted body that it was as if they were physically joined. To assure that any access was completely denied to me or anyone else, the belt also fit much more snugly through my crotch and there was practically no relative movement there. The much wider front shield spread my thighs further apart and I had to adopt a different gait, which resulted in a distinct hip swivel, which Melissa had quickly pronounced as extremely enticing. At first, I had been appalled that I would entice every male past puberty! When I saw how Kurt responded to it, however, I started to change my mind. No, I would never get lost in a crowd, so, even though it was easier said than done, I had vowed to be unashamed of my looks and how I moved.

That was the only good thing about this damn belt. When I’d used the toilet the morning after it had been locked on, I discovered, much to my chagrin, a feature I’d not seen when Melissa had first locked it on. Like my first belt, this one had been made with a fairly-large hole over my rectum. Quite unlike it, however, a very sharp spike was welded to the back strap. It extended halfway across the opening. Figuring out why it was there was a no-brainer. Not only was my pussy locked away, but no one would have access to my rear offering either. I’d never wanted to be used there, so I was thankful for the extra protection. Still, the spike presented a major obstacle to maintaining proper hygiene.

The worst refinement in this belt’s design however, was the parallel slots through which I had to pluck my labia every time the belt was closed after it had been opened so I could throughly clean myself; once a week under Melissa's close supervision. Carla had watched the first time only and had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that if I dared to give myself the slightest gratification during those times, that the shield would remain locked for a month, with my largest stent inside of me. Melissa was diligent in ensuring I didn't play with myself.

Back when I'd still been John, the new maid, my daily hormone cocktail had prevented any sexual reaction once my penis had been encased in its steel tube. The new belt was different; it was specifically intended to induce a reaction in my new sex. Performing my chores caused my muscles to contract and relax and these movements constantly massaged my lips. Just walking did the same. Climbing on a stepstool or, worse, the stairs, created far too much friction for my comfort. Often I’d have to pause until the wave of sensation passed and I could again tolerate the stimulation. Melissa never failed to giggle or laugh if she saw me do this and sometimes added a humiliating comment.

"What is it, Jacqui? Are you imagining what sex is like with a real man?" or something equally caustic.

Having delivered her good news-bad news, Melissa left me to myself. Sitting before my vanity, applying my makeup, I started to think about what she was suggesting about my relationship with Kurt. Certainly, when I had first gone out with him, I’d refused to think about where it could lead sexually. God, I'd been totally phobic about the whole issue of sex. The first time he'd touched my breasts I'd flinched. I smiled to myself as, painting my lips red, I remembered that I certainly hadn't flinched the last time he had; I was squirming with pleasure.

For me, sex had never been the big deal that many people made of it. Carla and I had certainly engaged in it and had fun, but her defensive personality had not been conducive to becoming deeply intimate. She had behaved almost as if sex was a duty, or a chore, though she never withheld it or used it as a weapon. I suppose that being in bed with a guy who had tits didn't help much either. I shrugged; there was no point over analyzing that particular bit of history. The water was way under the bridge by then.

How did Kurt feel about sex? I didn't really know. Would he need to get laid every night and twice a day on weekends? What would I do? Would I end up like Carla had been with me, doing it as a chore? God, I hoped not. I still couldn't really comprehend taking a man inside of me. The thought of me on my back with my legs spread wide to welcome him, just wasn't something I could imagine without flinching despite my desire to make it happen.

Thank goodness Kurt actually arrived before I could become too carried away with that line of thought. He picked me up in the Audi that evening and drove us to a small, candlelit restaurant. Other than a couple of cafes and roadside dinners, I don't recall ever having been in a restaurant with only ten tables before. Only three others were occupied when we arrived.

I found that I could talk easily with Kurt. He took a great interest in what I did during my days and evenings, even when it had been nothing but routine chores. Never once did he ask anything about the previous the thirty-two years that had preceded my life as a full-time maid.

"So, how was it polishing the furniture today, Jacqui?" he asked after we'd ordered.

"Actually, I was assigned to dust everything in the library today," I replied. "I've found an old book on gardening that I want to ask permission to read."

"Must you have permission to do something like that?" he scowled. "You are an adult and live in that house." I placed my hand on top of his to calm him.

"Think about what you just said and what I am," I said as soothingly as I could. "In that house, I'm a maid, just a hired servant. How would you feel if the chambermaid at hotel where you were staying found an interesting book or magazine of yours and borrowed it to read when she was off duty?"

I cocked my head waiting for his reply, when he just nodded, I said, "Just as I thought. Just like that chambermaid, I know my place. I need permission to borrow Ms. Martin's book." It was obvious he understood, but he still seemed angry over it.

"Kurt, give me a kiss," I said to get his mind off it. We touched lips. "It's okay with me, so let it be okay with you too." I was pleased that he dropped the subject to again compliment my appearance. That was something I could deal with easily.

Instead of driving straight home, we drove out into the country after our meal. I had been thinking of what might be coming, as we rode in a comfortable silence. He pulled his car off the rode and parked overlooking a farm. I started giggling.

"What's so funny? Share your amusement, liebling."

"I feel like a seventeen year old about to neck with her boyfriend."

"Neck?" he asked. "What is neck?" Leaning over the console, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself closer to kiss him.

"It means this." My lips parted and I pressed them to his. Kurt responded warmly.

"This is never going to work." I said, sitting back up. "Why didn't you bring the big car?"

"What isn't going to work?"

"This small car. The damn gearshift is in the way. Get out!" I was soon on his side of the car and opening the door. I still don't think he grasped my intentions.

"Come on, let's go over there," I motioned to a grassy knoll. Kurt smiled knowingly and leaned behind the seat to retrieve a blanket. He had obviously anticipated this. I guess he did grasp my intentions.

I knelt on the blanket once he'd spread it on the soft grass. Taking both of his hands in mine, I pulled him down to face me then hugged and kissed him again.

He placed his hands on my breasts and gently rubbed them through the soft knit. Even his large hands couldn't cover them. It was, I guess, a measure of how much I had changed since our first date in July that I’d no intention of stopping him as he fondled me. Instead, I reached down and pulled my sweater out of my skirt to provide easier access.

Kurt didn't disappoint me. He put one hand under my sweater and around my back. Then he lifted me slightly so I could stretch out my legs, before laying me gently on my back, placing himself down on top of me without ever breaking our kiss. It felt absolutely wonderful to feel his strength as he eased me down carefully before letting himself settle on top of me. He probably outweighed me by eighty pounds, but I didn't find his weight oppressive. Instead, I found it comforting and reassuring and … somewhat to my surprise, exciting.

We kissed and he played with my nipples through the sweater. That wasn't enough for me; I pulled my head away from his mouth and said, "Please take it off." I sounded desperate and was slightly shocked at my neediness and my willingness to express it so aggressively. Confused by my feelings, I looked down shyly. There was no denying it, I wanted to feel his skin on mine. I looked back up. "Then you can play with them again. Please?"

He smiled at me adoringly, and it took him only a moment to pull the sweater over my head. Once he had; Kurt sat back on his heels and looked at me. My corset pushed the large mounds of my breasts up and together, creating deep cleavage. I still wasn't used to seeing it. The sight of my pale white flesh illuminated by a lustrous moon was simply breathtaking.

I was so caught up in the view that I let out a small gasp and looked up quickly when he touched me again. Looking up raised my face right to his lips, so I greedily lunged into a new kiss while I pushed my chest into his hands. I reached up and put my hands into the soft hair on both sides of his head, caressing him as best I could. I was in heaven, feeling like a real woman. He was certainly a real man.

After who knows how long, we lay side by side, looking up at the stars. Kurt started to talk about astronomy.

"Oh, shut up," I said, trying to sound angry, something my silly squeaky voice just wouldn't allow. "I don't want to talk about Galileo or anyone else."

"What do you wish to discuss then, Jacqui?" I propped my head up on my elbow and gazed into his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about anything, you silly man. Just shut up and lie still." I took as deep a breath as my corset allowed and moved my right hand to Kurt's belt. "Don't move," I ordered in a whisper. I hesitated for a moment, thinking about what I intended to do. After a moment, I nodded my head and proceeded anyway.

I lowered the zipper and parted his trousers. Kurt lifted his hips so I could pull them and his shorts down. Surprisingly, he was completely flaccid - there was no reaction, at all, to what I was doing. With just the tips of my long red nails, I traced lines slowly along the shaft. I tried to think of things that I had liked and did them to him.

Holding his penis in a firm, but gentle grip, I shifted my body to lay my cheek on Kurt's bare belly and then resumed teasing his cock. I giggled; one of my garden crew (had it been Emillio?) had said he'd been wrong to think I was a cock tease, but here I was, teasing Kurt's cock. Emillio's first guess was going to be wrong; little Jacqui was teasing this cock, but she had every intention of relieving the tension she created.

Yes, she was about to become a cock sucker too.

I let that thought linger in my mind to see how I'd react to it. Poor homophobic John would have felt repulsed and humiliated. He probably would have vomited if a penis had ever touched his lips. My response was relatively mild. This was something I had to do, that I wanted to do. It was how I could show my feelings for this wonderful man, who had become so important in my life.

One day I would let him penetrate me. I would lie on my back, spread my legs and ask him to stick his prick into my newly formed vagina in order to demonstrate my affection in the most primal way a woman can. I didn't know if I was ready for that then, but it didn't matter. Even if I had been emotionally ready, I wasn't physically able.

Instead, I would do the next best thing, something any woman could do. I would satisfy him with my lips. Sucking a lover's cock wasn't a big deal for a woman and, if I was to be a woman, it couldn't be that big a deal for me either. It was absolutely the right thing to do. With that in mind, I started to lower my head.

"Liebling, stop." Kurt placed his hand on my forehead to push me away. I pushed back.

"Be quiet!" I ordered. I thought I sounded like a petulant six-year old.

Kurt's penis still wasn't reacting to me playing with it, although Kurt did give out an occasional faint moan himself. I pulled his prick up a little and shifted slightly, so I could kiss the tip. After I did that, parting my lips seemed natural, as did putting his penis into my mouth.

I began slowly to lick the penis in my hand; I sucked it into my mouth.

I hesitated for a second to think, while I lazily played my tongue around the head. How did I feel now that I had a penis in my mouth? It was Kurt's penis, which I held in my lips and I wanted to let him know how I felt about him. On the surface at least, I told myself that having him in my mouth was a good thing. I took bringing him off as a challenge, a thrown gauntlet, and proof that I was a real girl. Besides, this was something I wanted to give him. I began to suck in earnest.

Sucking on a cock was not the yucky, horrible thing I’d imagined it to be. To begin with, the penis itself wasn't at all like I thought it might be. It was velvety soft and warm. It smelled slightly musky, but also had an odor I couldn’t recognize. Perhaps it was Kurt's soap. I wasn’t sure. I didn't take time to focus on how it smelled or felt. I had a job I wanted to do and I wanted to concentrate on that.

I did everything that I could think of to get him hard. I even pumped my head up and down, letting his penis slide in and out as I went; I enjoyed doing that and Kurt moaned lowly while he stroked my arm and shoulder as I worked. There was simply no reaction from my target.

It took some time for me to admit defeat. I was feeling very frustrated and totally humiliated because of my failure. I moved to rest my head on Kurt's chest while I continued to toy with his penis with my nails. I didn't want him to see that I’d started to cry.

Despite my earlier rationalizations, I now knew that it had been a big, difficult step for me to give Kurt a blowjob. John never could have done it and it wasn't so long ago that I’d been John. The only way I could allow myself to suck on Kurt's cock was to totally negate any possible residual male identity left in me; my SRS had been so recent and so unexpected, that there was still plenty of male in me.

This hadn’t just been a blowjob, it was the symbolic final abandonment of John. Plus, it had never occurred to me that I might fail at such a fundamental act. That loss, mixed with the humiliation of not even being able to get Kurt hard, was too much for me.

"Kurt, do you want to tell me?" I softly sobbed.

"What is there to tell you, liebling?"

"How about what I was doing wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong. What you did was perfect, Jacqui." I slapped his stomach.

"What the hell did I do wrong?" My tears were now flowing freely down my cheeks.

"You did nothing wrong. It's me."

"Kurt, don't argue with me. I couldn't satisfy you. I couldn't even make you hard."

He lifted my shoulders off his chest and pulled me up so he could kiss me. I could see his face fall when he saw my tears and he gently kissed them from my cheeks and eyes.

"Listen to me," he said in an urgent whisper. "You did nothing wrong. Three years ago, just before I lost Erica, my prostrate was removed after years of chronic infection. I was a lucky man that it was not cancer."

He heaved a big sigh and I cocked my head slightly to look into his face as gently as I could. Seeing that, he went on. "I had hoped I would be able to respond to your wonderful kisses, licks, and caresses, but as you can see nothing happened. I'm afraid that's the way it is, Jacqui. I'm so sorry to disappoint you."

I didn't know what to say. I couldn’t even imagine what my face must have been revealing, because my thoughts were chaotic. I was sorry for Kurt, disappointed that I would never get to have sex with him, and at the same time incredibly relieved that I wouldn't have to have sex with him. At the same time, I couldn't believe that there was nothing his doctors could do, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to push him into further treatment because I didn't know what I really wanted.

Well, I knew I wanted to have an orgasm again sometime in my life. I hated the idea that Carla might have stolen that from me. I had no idea how to relate to my new vagina as an erogenous zone. I was terribly confused.

"Kurt," I started, "I'm so sorry for you, but I have to tell you the truth. I feel very relieved. I didn't know if I was ready for this, but I really wanted to do it for you."

"Oh," he cut me off, "you can suck on my penis any time you want. It was delightful." He gave me an endearing smile. "Just don't count on anything happening to it." Now his smile was rueful.

What could I say? His penis seemed so harmless now. It wouldn't be the instrument of my deflowering after all. "Well, the one thing I learned tonight is that I can," I said. "I wasn't sure."

"But you know what I really want?" I smiled up at him from under my eyelashes.

He raised his brows as if to ask "What?"

"Kiss me," I said, as I turned my body so I was on top of his and then waited for him to reach up and pull my lips to his, which took only a heartbeat.

Freed from the fear that had accompanied me earlier in the evening, I now felt ravenous for his affection. I kept him on that blanket with me for quite a long time.

End of Part VII

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Karen Anne Summerfield and Kelly Ann Rogers. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.