Jasmine Cally Vail – The Awakening

by

G. L. Hudson

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Getting ready on Monday, Jason checked out his new hair extensions in the bathroom mirror and smile apprehensively. Letting him do everything himself, I had him pull his hair back in a ponytail and attach a scrunchy up at the scalp. Doing it that way let his hair hang loose and show a bit of curl and swirl to it. As usual, I told him to wear bikini panties, thigh high stockings, and a pink, lacey camisole. Yellow gold studs were placed in his upper lobes, and I again had him wear one-inch gold hoop earrings in his lower lobes. He looked very cute. Under everything I had him start wearing Jasmine's baby-powder deodorant. Driving to work, I enjoyed his fresh, feminine scent.

So it wasn't surprising that it didn't take long for the girls to notice Jason's new look. Only minutes after arriving, Terri rushed into my office and whispered, "Did you see Jason's new do?" Nodding yes, I giggled. She began laughing and said, "Jasmine is right, he is a swish. He's starting to look and dress like a girl!"

"How do you think he did it?" I asked.

"A hair weave or extensions probably. They're pretty common now days, and they don't cost much." If she only knew how much I paid she would have fainted. "I can't believe he had the nerve to wear it to work. What the shit, did he think no one would notice? I can't wait for lunch."

"Why wait for lunch? Go talk to him now."

"I don't think I could keep a straight face. I'll wait 'till everyone is there."

She turned to leave and I called her back, " Terri, I didn't get a real close look. What does he look like? I mean does he look totally ridiculous or feminine?"

"Well I think he looks pretty stupid. But he is femmy to begin with. I'll have to take a closer look at lunch."

I anticipated lunch all morning. I couldn't wait to hear the conversation. The five of us gathered at Lisa's desk before heading to the cafeteria. Jason showed up last, carrying his brown bag lunch. Lisa was the first to speak, "Jason, you have a new look. What did you do?"

"I'm going to be in a local play. My character called for long hair, so I had hair extensions put in this weekend. I'll have to wear them for several weeks."

"Wow, they look real," said Jasmine. "How did they do it?"

"Why don't we talk about this at lunch," I said. "I'm hungry."

We walked down to the cafeteria, Jason leading the way. The four of us girls walking behind smiling and pointing and swishing our hips as we walked. At the cafeteria we each picked up our food and rushed over to our table.

"So Jason, what exactly did you do?" Jasmine asked again. Jason went through the entire description of the operation.

"You went to a salon to have this done?" Lisa asked.

"Yea."

"A woman's hair salon? I mean, not a theatrical salon?"

"Yea."

"Did you enjoy it?" asked Terri.

"Well it was a rather long and boring procedure."

"No, I meant did you like hanging with the girls?" Everyone giggled a bit. Jason turned pink and said nothing. "What play are you going to be in?"

Jason took the initiative to describe the plot and characters of Hair. He was informative enough that no one doubted the details of the play.

"I didn't know you could sing."

"Yea, I'm ok. Not good enough for the lead, but good enough to be a back up."

"How do you take care of your hair?"

Jason listed the dos and don'ts that he had been given. He explained that he had to keep it in a ponytail or braided for sleeping.

"Braided? Can you braid your own hair?"

"Sort of. I'm not real good at it."

"You'll have to wear it braided for us." More snickers and a round of 'Yea, we want to see you in braids' came from all the girls.

"I particularly like the earrings that you chose to go with your hair. Are those part of the play also?"

Jason took the opportunity to attribute the ear piercing to the play also.

"You look very pretty," Terri said. "Will you have to wear any other clothes for your play?"

"Well yea. There is no nudity in this play," he explained.

"No, I meant anymore girl's clothing? A blouse or lipstick maybe?" Everyone laughed and Jason turned a deep shade of pink. He looked at me for help and I gave him a big smile.

Later in the afternoon, Jason picked me up for our afternoon break. He looked rather morose. When we reached the hall I said, "Jason, you look tired or something. Tough morning?"

"Yea, I'd say that," he said angrily.

"What's the matter?" I asked soothingly.

"I didn't appreciate the teasing at lunch. I felt like a freak show at the circus."

"No, you weren't" I answered. "Why ever would you even say that?"

"You were there. You know. I was the center of abuse and teasing. Asking if I was going to wear lipstick. It was embarrassing."

"Well I'm sorry you feel that way. You know how those girls are. They love to tease and talk about people. That's just the way they are. It's not personal, it's their lunch time entertainment."

"Well I don't like being entertainment. And you didn't say anything to help. You just sat there," he sniffed.

"Jason, I can't say anything and you know it. We can't let anyone know that were spending time together outside work. Especially those girls. They'll tell everyone in the company. And you know what will happen if the company finds out, don't you?"

"Yea, but it wouldn't hurt you to give me a little morale support. I felt totally alone out there."

"You're going to have to stand on your own two feet, Jason. If you want to become a beautiful girl, there is going to be a transition period and people are going to see it. You will have to get used to this."

He stopped walking and turned to me, "What do mean 'become a girl'?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

"No. I just want to pretend to be a girl in my own privacy."

"That's not true, sweetie. If that were true you wouldn't be wearing panties and camisoles to work. You wouldn't have had your hair done. You wouldn't have had your ears pierced. You're the one that's showing those off to the real world."

"Only because you made me. You threatened to expose me if I didn't do these things."

"You're rationalizing, Jason. You wanted to do these things, and that's why you're doing them. I gave you a weak excuse and you jumped on it. And I never said that I would expose you. You know I never said that." I stared into his eyes to make it clear that I meant what I said.

He turned and began walking down the hall. We were silent while I bought him his usual diet coke.

"Jason," I said, "you realize that this is what you want, right?"

"No, I never wanted to do this in public. If it hadn't been for you, I never would have done any of this."

"And do you regret it? Did you regret it Friday night? How about Saturday on your stroll around Chicago? Did you regret it when you were trying on dresses or buying earrings?"

"I still wouldn't be wearing this stuff in public if it wasn't for you." He stopped and sighed. "You've got me all fucked up." He gave another big sigh, leaned against the wall and took a sip of his coke. "I just felt so alone. You never said anything. I hated it. I felt abused."

"Complain then,"

"What? To whom? And what exactly do I complain about? The truth?"

"You complain to your immediate supervisor, Lisa. And you don't ever worry about the internal truth that you and I both know. The fact is you feel that you were the subject of abuse. Since you were the only guy at the table, I'd call it sexual abuse. You simply, and with no exaggeration, write an e-mail to Lisa and explain how you felt. Say that it makes it difficult to do your job when things like this happen. Don't make a big deal out of it. And when you're done, print off a copy and give it to me. It will help get your feelings in front of you, and it might help Lisa reign in the girls."

"I can't do that. Nobody likes a whiner."

"That's right. But they have to pay attention when an employee is being mistreated. Write the letter and send it. Do it as soon as you get back to your desk. Don't wait, quit whining and do it. Got it?"

"I'm not sure."

"Do it!" I said. "What do you say to me when I tell you to do something?"

"Yes ma'am."

I smiled. "Let's go back to the office."

Jason did write the letter and he did send it to Lisa. I waited for a comment form Lisa but never heard a word. Maybe she would say something tomorrow.

That evening Jason's mood turned totally around. First off, he was dressed as Jasmine and that always made her feel better. Second, she received a call from her mom. The house sale had cleared and mom was going to give her the check for $10,000. She wanted to bring it to her and Jasmine panicked. She couldn't let her parents see her with her new hairstyle. She hung up the phone and was a nervous wreck.

After explaining the situation to me I said, "This is easy Jasmine. Call your mother back and give her your savings account number. Tell her to have her bank send the money electronically. Tell your mom it is much safer than walking around with $10,000. Tell her you would feel much better if she didn't carry that money with her. Let her know that you are only thinking about her."

"That might work," she agreed.

"You won't know unless you try. Call her back right now."

Jasmine called her mom, and after some persuading she agreed. Jasmine was ecstatic. "This will solve all of my problems," she effused.

"No it won't," I disagreed. "Remember I have power of attorney. I will decide what to do with the money."

"What are you going to do?" Jasmine asked.

"The same as usual. Fifty percent will be used to pay down your credit card balance. $5000 will get you down to about $1000 left. The other $5000 goes into your savings. You will use none of it for shopping. It will be saved for more important things."

"Like what?"

"Like electrolysis."

"Oh," and a smile spread across her face. "I like that idea. Will it be enough?"

"I don't know, but that is what I suggest that you spend it on. The rest of your finances should remain as they are until you eliminate that credit card balance. And once the balance is gone, you pay as you go. If you can't pay for a charge in one month, you don't buy it. I will not allow you to crawl back into that debt hole."

"I agree." Jasmine walked over to me and gave me a hug. "You're the best friend that I could have ever hoped to find."

"I know," I said modestly. "Now go get ready for bed. Wash your hair, and dry it thoroughly. Use your hair blower. And use conditioner when you wash it. Be careful when you comb it out, also. When you're done, come show me." I patted her on the butt and sent her to the shower.

She returned almost 40 minutes later. She was already in her negligee and robe. I ran my fingers through her hair and sent her back to dry it some more. The next time she returned I complimented her on her nice look. "Sit here and I'll braid your hair. I can do a nicer job than you. And tomorrow morning leave it braided."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to wear it to work that way."

"No. I can't. I won't. It looks way to girly. I'll get razzed by the girls."

"You told them you would wear it braided, sweetie. And if they do tease you, write another letter to Lisa."

"I never said that I would wear it braided. And I can't keep writing letters to Lisa."

"I'm sure you promised to wear it braided, dear. Now just go to bed and we can continue this discussion in the morning." I wasn't going to discuss it in the morning. Jason was going to wear braided hair to work. It would be so much fun.

 

The next morning I had Jason dress the same as Monday. He complained all morning about wearing his hair braided and I would not give in. I insisted. When I finally got him in the car he sulked all the way to work. I was anticipating an interesting day. Sure enough, Terri was in my office at 8:00.

She was grinning from ear to ear. "Did you see Jason?"

"Yes. What do you think?"

"I almost blew a gut muscle. How girly can you get? Braided hair? I can't believe he did it!"

"Well, we did ask, remember?"

"If I asked you to dress like a whore, would you?"

I smiled, "Let me think about that."

"Yea. And if I told you to jump off a bridge you would do that too. I just can't believe he did it. What does he think he is doing?"

"Trying to join the group?"

"You mean be one of the girls?" and she laughed again.

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe he has such low self esteem that he thinks this is how he can make friends. I don't know, I'm just guessing."

"Well if that's the case, he's stupider than I thought. He's looking like an idiot." Then she flashed a nasty grin, "Maybe we should tell him to wear a bra and lipstick next." She left my office laughing. At least Terri was going to have an amusing day. I wondered what the others would say.

Jason never left his cubicle all morning. When we stopped by for lunch he refused to go. "I'm really busy girls and I want to catch up on some work."

"Come on, Jason. You need to take a break and get away from this."

"If you don't you'll get all stressed out."

"No, I really have to do this."

"Ok. By the way, I really like your hairstyle. Did you braid it yourself?"

"No … er … yea I did." He almost gave away the fact that he was getting help.

"It's very cute. It looks much better than a pony tail," Lisa said

"Yea, I agree. You should wear it this way all the time. It's very becoming."

"It looks good on you. Very appropriate," Jasmine added.

The four of us left for the cafeteria. As soon as we were out of Jason's hearing the rips began. "Swish. Gay. Fairy. Queer. Sissy. Pretty boy." Lunch was a continuous dialog about Jason. He replaced Linda as the favorite target of abuse. A couple girls from other departments came by to ask if what they heard was true. They wanted to know if they could stop by the department later in the afternoon to see what he looked like.

"No problem," answered Terri. "Just call me and I'll let you through security. You've never seen anything so weird in your life. What a sicko."

That afternoon was a steady stream of visitors through the law department. Both men and women showed up, and Terri and Jasmine were happy to show them through. Jason couldn't help but notice. But no one said anything so he couldn't complain.

Wednesday and Thursday he was again too busy to join us for lunch. But the visitors started to trickle off and by Friday he didn't feel like such a celebrity and agreed to join us for lunch at the cafeteria. The girls weren't too subtle with Jason.

"Jason, do you know how to do a French braid. I think that would like really pretty on you."

You should wear it down one day. I'd love to see you wear it long. Do you curl it?"

"I think we should have a slumber party. We can sleep over and spend the night doing each other's hair. Jason, do you have a nice negligee? All the girls have to wear pretty nightgowns."

Terri noticed his nails. "Oh my god! Jason, your nails!" Jason quickly hid his hands under the table. Terri reached over and pulled one of his hands up onto the table. "Your nails are so long. They're very fashionable. Do you do them yourself?"

"Those are really nice Jason. And you do them yourself? How do they look with polish?"

"It looks like you have clear nail polish on them Jason. No! Do you polish them?"

"How precious. I bet they look great with red on them. What color do you prefer Jason?"

"We have got to have a sleep over. We can polish nails as well as style our hair."

"Jason, I'm so impressed. New hair, stylish hoop earrings and now manicured nails. How feminine."

"And don't forget that camisole. I'll bet it's really pretty. Does it have lots of lace, Jason?"

Jason turned redder and redder. He left half way through lunch. I couldn't blame him. The girls were very rough on him. On the way back to my office I made a point of stopping by his desk. "Write the letter, and make sure that you give me a copy," I whispered.

He refused to go out for a coke later, so I brought him one and gave it to him at his desk. He glared at me and said thanks. Then he handed me a copy of his letter.

Jason and I worked until 6:00. Everyone else had left. I went to pick up Jason at his desk and he silently followed me to the car. As soon as we were in the car he started crying. Huge sobs and tears. He was racked with wave after wave of crying. I thought I knew what the problem was, and I said nothing. I quietly drove us to my apartment.

When we reached the apartment he disappeared into his room and slammed the door shut. I could hear him crying behind the closed door. Maybe I had gone a little too far this time. I was starting to feel just a bit guilty. I started to rationalize my thoughts, and then decided that I was too hungry for that.

I called up the pizza shop and ordered a large pizza. They said it would take 40 minutes. That gave me enough time to run down the street and buy some beer. I was back in plenty of time to catch the delivery boy. I set up plates and napkins in the kitchen, then went to Jason's room. I softly knocked on the door, but received no answer. I turned the door handle slowly and pushed the door open enough to stick my head inside. "Jason," I called. He was lying on his bed facing away from the door.

"Jason. I have beer and pizza. You must be as hungry as I am. Come eat with me."

Nothing.

"Sweetie, I know you have to be as hungry as me. Can't you smell it?"

Still no answer.

"Listen, lying in here and sulking won't accomplish anything. I know you're hungry. Come out to the kitchen, have some pizza and drink a beer. It's good for you. We can talk." I grabbed his arm and rolled him over to face me. His eyes were red from the crying. I leaned over and kissed him. "I think the world of you Jason. Come on, it's time to talk. And eat. I have MGD and Leinenkugels. Which would you prefer?"

"Leinie,"

"Go wash your face then come out. Ok sweetie?"

I returned to the kitchen and opened a couple of beers. Jason came out about 5 minutes later. He quietly sat down and I placed a piece of pizza on his plate, and slid his beer over to him. He munched and sipped quietly for a few minutes. "This was the worst week of my life. I was totally humiliated."

"But you received $10,000. That's not bad," I said. "You can do something now that you've always wanted to do."

"Really? And how do you know that? How do you know what I want?"

"I think you've made that pretty clear, sweetie. I just listen and watch, but you do tell me what you want. You get your message across."

"Did I tell you that I wanted my life destroyed and to be totally humiliated?"

There was no need to answer rhetorical questions. I merely waited for his next comment.

"Every guy in the building must have walked by the last couple of days to laugh at me behind my back. Everyone of them has absolutely no respect for me anymore."

"Sweetie, so what?"

"So what? So I look like a total jackass."

"It makes absolutely no difference at all. Come on, what did you think was going to happen? Did you think you were going to make friends with those idiots and become best buddies? Go out bar-hopping, beer-drinking and skirt-chasing? It wasn't going to happen. You know that. Deep down inside that isn't you. You're better than that. You have more respect for yourself and others than to crawl down into their manure."

"And you heard what the girls said. Do you have a negligee? Do you style your hair? Its like they know everything."

"You're reading way too much into their statements. They have no idea who or what you are. They were merely acting like they always do."

"Now they sure as hell think I'm gay, thanks to you."

"Oh sweetie, it's way too late for that. They've thought you were gay since the day you started work. I had nothing to do with that."

He looked at me and shook his head no. "That's not true," he muttered.

"Yes it is. I'm not lying. On my very first day they all pointed you out and asked if I thought you were gay. I said no, but they all disagreed. Jasmine has called you a 'swish' since the day I started."

"No. That can't be." He was shaking his head side to side to emphasize his wishing.

"Yes, it is."

"But I thought that underneath their jokes they kind of liked me. Especially Jasmine."

"Jasmine's the worst. She makes the harshest comments about you."

"But why did they think I was gay?"

"Because you aren't a macho guy, Jason. You know that. You can admit that. It isn't bad, it's just the way it is. I lived with a lesbian roommate for a couple of years, and we went to gay bars all the time. I got pretty good at figuring out who was who, and who was what. I could tell from the first day we met that you weren't gay. But I didn't guess that you were a transvestite. You hid that pretty well.

"In retrospect I might have figured it out. Jason, you have many feminine traits that are part of you. You have a beautiful face. You have a small, cute nose. There is no way it can be taken as macho. Your face is soft and round like a beautiful girl's, rather than oval and hard shaped like a guy's. Your hands are small and you are thin, which makes you more feminine than masculine. And with the proper clothing and make-up, you are very feminine. You are pretty, you're cute, and you're beautiful.

"Why did they think you were gay? Because they couldn't read you. They were confused by the way you look and they way you move. They didn't have the experience to read you the way that I could. Well except for Jasmine."

"What about Jasmine?"

"Jasmine is gay. She's a lesbian. She probably should have been able to see that you weren't gay."

"Jasmine is a lesbian? I don't believe that."

"Oh believe it, sweetie. She hit on me all the time. I had to take her to Glitter and introduce to Gloria so Gloria could set her straight, so to speak. Yes, she is a lesbian."

"But if she is a lesbian, why would she be so ruthless behind my back? If anyone should have some compassion I would think she would understand."

"Probably because she doesn't want anyone to know about her. She rationalizes what she does and in turn becomes the worst of the lot. Look at how many congressman have been the loudest screamers against gays, and it turns out they themselves are gay. How do you explain that? I don't know."

"So, I never had any friends at work?"

"No, I don't think you did. You just didn't fit anyone's stereotype. You became the outcast that everyone makes fun of. I'm sorry, but that's the truth. You can see it now can't you?"

He munched on his pizza and slowly nodded. He drained his beer and went to the refrigerator for another. "What an idiot. I've been a joke all along, haven't I?"

It was my turn to nod my head.

"So what do I do? Do I quit and start over?"

"Where would you go? There are no jobs out there. And what difference would it make? Would you change? Would others change? I doubt it. You would be in the same position you're in now."

"You're probably right. I have tried to change before. I've tried to be more athletic like my brother. I've tried to go out with the guys and act crude and chase girls. But I was never any good at it. It never lasted more than a week or two and I was back to dressing as a girl in my locked bedroom."

"You are what you are, Jason. Let me ask you something. Do you want to be something else or do you want to be what you are?"

"I guess I don't have much choice, really."

"It's your decision. I can help. But you have to decide. I've been doing what you wanted. Whether you want to admit it or not."

"Yea, I guess your right. I never fought very hard against what you did. I sort of liked it."

"Sort of?"

"I loved it. It's what I always wanted. I've always dreamed of a beautiful woman forcing me to become a girl."

"I'm not forcing you Jason. I ask for cooperation, cooperation that I think you owe me. You want this and I'm merely your facilitator. Asking for cooperation isn't asking for so much, is it?"

"No."

"Good. Eat you pizza and let's have another beer. We're not going out tonight so we can get a little tipsy and tell the world to screw itself."

"And tomorrow I can dress like a girl."

"You bet you can. Just remember, I call the shots." I gave him a smile, a 'prost' and we both downed our beers. That night, as I headed to bed alone, I couldn't help but think about how high-maintenance Jasmine was. I wondered if all transvestites took this much attention and coddling.

On Saturday I decided to dress Jasmine to the nines and take her out trolling for men. Not that she needed a man, but she needed a real boost to her self-confidence. I was sure that I could accomplish that. I also realized that she was getting lax and sloppy in her appearance, and I had to re-establish some guidelines. After breakfast I sent her to the shower. "Wash you hair and make sure you use conditioner. Don't dry your hair. Wrap it in a towel and I'm going to give you a wet set. And don't shave your face yet. We'll do that when we're closer to make-up time."

When she returned from her shower I gave her an inspection. "Jasmine, you're getting incredibly sloppy."

"What?"

"Look at your legs! You call that shaving? I can see stray hairs all over! Show me your pits. Ugh! Go back to the shower and shave your legs and your pits. And you chest as well! We don't want hair getting in the way of your adhesive. Go!" I pushed her back towards the shower.

She returned with bits of toilet paper on her legs. "Listen, unless you are totally incompetent, and I don't think you are, the reason you're cutting your legs is because you have a dull blade. Don't be so lazy that you can't climb out of the shower and change blades. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well remember that. Now come back into the bathroom." I slid in a directors chair and had her take a seat facing the mirror. "Now pay attention. I'm going to set you hair. I'm not very good, at least I'm not very good at styling. But watch how I put in your curlers, where I put them and how I use setting gel. We don't use much, just a tad bit."

I situated her in front of the mirror, took off her towel and blotted her hair. "Remember, no rubbing with the towel. Blot, comb and then use a hair dryer. But I'm not going to use a blow dryer. I'll set your hair and then you can wear the curlers in your hair the rest of the day. You'll like the way they feel as they begin to dry and pull your hair tight. It's very sexy."

I combed through her hair and eliminated all of the tangles. I parted her hair down the center , then starting on her right side, I took the tail of the comb and sectioned a small amount of hair next to her crown. "We will start at the crown and work our way around. First I smeared a bit of styling gel on the hair, then I took a smaller, one-inch curler and rolled the sectioned hair with the curler rolling up under her hair. "See? Don't roll it too tight. It pulls on your hair and worse, on your extensions. Watch again."

Working towards the back, I sectioned another bit of hair, spread a very light bit of gel and again rolled the curler under the hair. I pushed a pin through it and then held the mirror so she could see what I had done. "See?"

"Yea."

"Keep them close, and geometric. Not too tight." I sectioned the third part and rolled it. I worked my way around to the back of her head, then returned to the front and started the second row. Half way around the second row I again held up the mirror. "See how I'm doing this?"

"Yes."

"Do you like what I'm doing?"

"Oh yes. I especially like the smell. It's very intoxicating."

I continued to section, gel, roll and pin. I finished the right side of her head and moved to the left. "Now I'm not going to pretend that I know what I'm doing. This might not work at all, but I'm going to try and be creative. I'm going to try and set the front of your hair so that it can be combed over the front of your forehead towards the other side. It might work and it might be ugly. If it doesn't work, we can correct it later with a curling iron."

I sectioned the first part of hair at the crown in front, and this time I rolled the curler on top of the hair. Instead of working towards the back, I worked down the front. I rolled the second curler in the opposite direction also. The third curler returned to the under side like the rest.

I finished curling all of her hair, then placed a hair net over all the curlers. "There you go, sweetie. We will let it air dry for the rest of the afternoon as we get ready for tonight. Let's go do our nails." We collected our bottles and files and cotton balls and sat down on the living room floor. I started by sitting her against the couch while I used acetone to remove the polish on her toes.

Next I pulled the coffee table between us and I sat across the table from Jasmine, and one by one I filed and shaped her nails. I had her do two nails on each hand. She wasn't too bad with her left hand, but she wasn't very good with her right. I applied a red polish with flecks of sparkles and glitter. It was very disco.

While she sat with her hands in her lap, I pushed the table away and began on her toes. I took cotton balls and stuffed them between each toe. One by one I used the same polish on her toes. When I finished I was starting to get thirsty. "Want a coke?"

"Sure."

By the time I returned and we had chatted for a few minutes, it was my turn. "Be careful, your nails are dry but not hard. Just move slowly and lightly." I had her do my fingernails and then my toes. I used the same polish as Jasmine. "Tonight we can be twins, sort of," and we laughed together. She was in a much better mood than Friday night. Playing at her hobby made her happy and she forgot about her pains and problems. She was truly happiest as she transformed into a butterfly. We gave each other a second coat. "Not too heavy. Wipe off the brush and apply a light coat. It will dry slower and you don't want it to look lumpy," I instructed.

We allowed the polish to dry and then put away our tools of the trade. "Let's take a little nap," I suggested. No clothes, we'll just slip under the sheets and take a short nap. We snuggled together and I asked, "Do the curlers in your hair bother you?"

"They do feel awkward. A little hard to get used to, but I love it."

"You look really sexy, lying there with your hair in curlers and your nails brightly polished and all pretty. All that is missing are your breasts."

"I could put them on," she offered.

"No, no. You have an appetizing androgynous look without them. You look sexy in a very unique way."

"I feel sexy." She was quiet for a minute as if she were trying to decide something. "I would love to give myself to you."

Submissive. What a good girl. "I don't want to crush your hair and curlers. Instead of me mounting you, I'd like to crawl between my legs and pleasure me with your tongue. Do you think you could do that?"

"Yes ma'am." She slid down between my thighs and gently kissed me on the inside of each thigh. Then she rubbed her nose in my pubic hair and took a deep breath. "I love the smell of you. It is so erotic and sexy. Your pheromones turn me on like crazy." She really knew how to turn a phrase. She slipped her tongue into my slit and began to lick my pussy. I leaned back and enjoyed the sensation. I let her bring me to orgasm twice. I bucked and jumped and almost knocked out one of her front teeth.

I rolled over on my stomach and instructed her to take me from behind. I spread my legs so she could lie between them and slide her penis into my pussy. She still had poor aim, and I had to reach behind and guide her little penis into my pussy. She couldn't directly stimulate my clit, so I was able to prolong my orgasm and come at a nice leisurely rate. Jasmine came right away, but I kept her working away until I was satisfied.

That was when I realized that I had let her enter me without a condom. 'Oh shit,' I thought. ' I hope I'm not fertile.'

We slept for a bit longer than an hour. We got up and wrapped our robes around us. I got us some fruit and cokes, and we sat on the couch, curled up like lazy cats, and we talked like girls. We talked about the latest fashions worn by the celebrities on TV and in the latest Cosmo. Her face was animated and smiles spread effortlessly across it. Her eyes twinkled and even without makeup she looked very pretty. With make-up, she could be irresistible to the boys … and me.

We attached Jasmine's breast forms, and then I sent her to the bathroom to shave off her facial stubble. While she shaved, I dressed for the evening. I went through her closet and picked out a sexy little number for myself. It was a short, silk dress in electric blue. It had spaghetti straps and fit snugly through the waist and hips before flaring out to a straight skirt.

When she finished shaving and the bleeding had stopped, I dressed her all in red. She had a beautiful red underwire bra, and bright red bikini panties. The only non-red items were her padded panty girdle and corset. I pulled the corset especially tight, giving her a very thin waist. She wore a short red slip. I picked out a short, sexy dress from her closet. The dress had long sleeves that flared into wide, lacey lower sleeves. The neckline was square cut, but a bit lower than normal. It had a cinched, form fitting waist that accented her tiny waist, and made her hips look wide and sexual. The silk skirt had a short hemline, ending about an inch above the knee. She was going to have to be careful sitting and there would be no leg crossing tonight. It would be good training.

Then to make everything one degree more difficult, I found a pair of red, 4-inch heels. I myself never wore 4-inch heels. They were feet killers, besides being extremely difficult to walk in. If she wasn't careful she could break an ankle. They were open-toed and had a high ankle strap which helped with her stability. The perfect shoe for the evening. She wouldn't be able to run away from me. I smiled at that thought.

I supervised her make-up and we went for a much more dramatic look. I had her darken her eyebrows more than usual. She applied a darker shade of rose around her nose and under her brows. Then we applied a dark violet across her lids and a heavy dose of charcoal across her crease. I had her also apply a thin line of charcoal around the upper and lower lashes. Then she used a brush to smear and soften the charcoal liner. Next, I applied a black liquid liner around her lashes, outlining her eyes to make them sleek and almost oriental. She curled her lashes and applied mascara.

I surprised her with a pair of glittery false lashes. "Oh my," she exclaimed. "These are pretty wild."

"Aren't they," I said as I applied a bead of adhesive to each. "We're going to make you the sexiest girl at the party," I said.

I outlined her lips with a bright red color. I made them wider than usual. Then I had Jasmine color them in with the same bright red color. It was very obvious what signals she was sending to the world. She looked hot and certainly not conservative. I wouldn't say she looked like a cheap hooker. No, she didn't look cheap at all. I finished her look by brushing a light amount of glitter around her eyes and on her temples.

All she needed now was a pretty hairstyle. I wasn't sure if I could pull that off or not. She sat in the director's chair and faced the mirror as I removed her curlers. She wanted to leave the curls and not bother brushing out the style. They did look curly and fun, but they didn't look finished. I brushed out her hair, and flipped the front curls over the rightside of her forehead. It worked ok. It wasn't a great styling job, but it looked decent. The flip over her forehead definitely made the style. It gave her a nice flirty look.

She put on her new drop, rhinestone earrings, and a loud rhinestone necklace. We rounded out the jewelry with more rhinestones on her bracelets. And tonight, I didn't let her wear any rings. I wanted everyone to know that Jasmine was unattached.

Jasmine was ready. Watch out world, Jasmine was coming out. Turn up the lights and music, step back and warn the boys. Only real men need apply.

We drove to one of the up-scale clubs in the downtown area. We were so hot that we weren't even carded. A first for us. As soon as we entered the club, I took Jasmine's hand and led her to the girls' restroom. It was crowded and we had to wait for the stall I wanted. It was the last stall against the wall. It was for the handicapped and was larger than the others. It had a sink and mirror inside, along with the toilet.

We both entered the stall and I locked it behind us. I set our purses on the back of the toilet, then I reached under Jasmine's dress and pulled her panty girdle down. Her red panties came down together with the padded girdle. She looked at me with total surprise in her eyes. I held a finger over my lips and gave her a shush. I placed my hands against her shoulders and gently pushed her down on the toilet seat. I lifted the hem of her dress and had her hold it up. Her penis was erect and standing at attention.

I searched through my purse and found a condom. I took the rubber out of its tinfoil and rolled it over Jasmine's cock. Next I pulled down my panties and stepped out of them. Facing Jasmine, I lifted my dress, straddled her and sat on her lap, carefully coaxing her penis into my pussy as I sat down. I gave her a wicked grin then started squirming back and forth, squeezing her penis with my vaginal muscles and sending shivers through both of us. I eventually started sliding up and down on her cock, squeezing with my muscles and enjoying the sensation and thrill of our coupling. It didn't take long for both of us to cum. I sat on her lap for about another minute as we tried to quietly regain out breath. I reached over Jasmine's shoulder and pulled a tampon out of my purse. "She why we carry these?" I said as I showed it to her. I stood and quickly slid it inside me. I stepped away from Jasmine and pulled on my panties.

Jasmine was still holding her dress so it wouldn't touch her wet cock. I pulled off her condom, took some toilet paper and wiped her dry, then held her dress up while she pulled on her red panties, followed by her padded panty girdle. She reached inside her panties and quickly tucked her now flaccid penis between her legs. We looked at each other and decided that we were presentable. I gave her a grin, flushed the toilet and we left the stall. Several girls noticed the two of us exit the stall, but no one had any clue as to what we had just done.

Back in the club, Jasmine started laughing. "That was incredible. Have you no shame or modesty?"

"No, I don't. That was so much fun, I'm going to have to start thinking about other places to screw you," I smirked. "I'm thirsty, let's get a marguerita."

At the bar, two men bought us our drinks. We never bought a drink the entire evening. We were dressed to kill and every testosterone drenched male in the club was interested in the two sexiest girls in the building. The men in the club were pretty good looking themselves, and since we had our pick of the club, I picked two of the very best. They were in their mid-twenties, tall, muscular, well tanned and handsome. They were both dressed very nice and carried themselves as if they had money. Leonard was a stockbroker and his friend Kenny was an investment banker. I gave Jasmine the best looking one, Leonard.

They were both very entertaining and charming, and good dancers. We spent much of the evening on the dance floor and I don't know how Jasmine kept up in the 4-inch heels that she was wearing. I was constantly worried that she would twist an ankle, but she did just fine. I wondered how Jasmine would react to the men's attention, but she loved it. She let Leonard paw her and touch her constantly. She even held his hand when they were sitting at the table.

After one slow dance where he held her tight, she suggested we powder our noses. "I couldn't believe it," she complained. "He pressed his crotch against me the whole time and I could feel his penis pressed against me. He had a hard-on."

"Was he big?"

"That's disgusting."

"It's your fault Jasmine. You're so sexy you just turned him on. You're too hot and sexy for your own good."

"Men are too crude and vulgar," she responded.

"Well maybe so sweetie, but I don't see you complaining. I see you holding hands and flirting with him. If you don't like the attention, tell him."

"That's the problem, I like being told that I'm pretty."

"Are you going to sleep with him?"

"Ugh! Absolutely not. I'm no homo."

"Then maybe you shouldn't be leading him along like you are. Flirting is one thing, but you've given him a lot of physical contact all night. Your body language is sending all the right signals to him. You're asking for sex."

"I am?"

"Don't play innocent missy. You know you are and you're loving his response. You're playing with fire, and if you don't want to get burned, you better turn down the flame."

When we returned from the restroom, Jasmine cooled down. She didn't dance with him any more and she stopped all the patting and pawing they had been indulging in. Towards the end of the night, the guys asked if they could take us home. I wanted to take my boy home and screw him, but Jasmine quickly said no. I did give Kenny my number. Jasmine was nice enough for a little diversion, but I was still interested in finding a real man.

Jasmine and I returned to our apartment and cleaned up. I gave Jasmine a good night kiss as I headed towards my room. "May I join you?" she asked quietly.

"I'm sorry Jasmine. I want to keep my room strictly for myself. I need a place to be alone."

"How about sleeping in my room then?" she offered.

"Sweetie, we screwed twice today. Besides, I'm tired. Goodnight." I was tired and I did want to keep my room to myself. But I also wanted to reinforce the notion that we were not a couple. If it hadn't been for Jasmine, I would have brought Kenny home for a one-night stand. I was still dreaming of extra-large size men and didn't want to spend the rest of my life with a petite-sized sissy.

 

CHAPTER NINE

Monday we returned to work, and I gave Jasmine a little slack. Since last week had been so difficult on her, I allowed her to wear her hair in a ponytail, rather than braided. The week passed with little fanfare, and we enjoyed another weekend as the sexy twins. We went to two different clubs on Friday and Saturday, and once again attracted our share of good looking men. Jasmine was learning to become a real flirt. I warned her about going too far, but I couldn't get too angry with her. I was amazed how a dress and lipstick turned her from a mouse into a lioness. When Jasmine went out, she was much more confident and extroverted than Jason could have ever hoped to be. It was like Jekyll and Hyde.

That week Jasmine did some calling around and found an electrologist that she liked. She began spending her mother's gift on Jasmine rather than Jason. Three times a week she went to the salon and had her facial hair removed. It took several of weeks before I could notice a big difference. At the end of the day it was almost impossible to see any stubble on Jason's face. He never had much facial hair to begin with, but even so he started to look softer and cleaner. And Jasmine's face felt much softer when we snuggled during our sex romps.

We continued for another week in our routine, had another great weekend and then I decided to shake things up. It was time to start pushing Jasmine. She would have to come out eventually. On Monday morning while she was in the bathroom, I laid out Jason's new wardrobe. He was going to wear high cut panties, a corset, camisole, stockings attached to the corset garters, one inch loafers and a pair of women's slacks. (No socks, just stockings.) They weren't just any slacks either, they were clearly women's style. They were tan, with a side button and zipper, and elastic in the waist. They had no pockets, two pleats in the front and a straight, crisp crease down to the cuff on each leg. They were fairly tight in the rear, and his panty lines would be evident to everyone.

Jason's first response was predictable. "No."

"You have no choice," I reminded him. "I want you wearing your full compliment of under garments, and with the corset your waist is too thin for any of your boy dockers."

"I have jeans that I can wear."

"No, you can't wear jeans except on dress-down Fridays. You are going to have to wear women's slacks."

"No," he whined again. "I can't handle the abuse."

"Listen," I told him. "It's about time you found some spine. Decide what is important in your life and do it. Stand up for yourself, accept the consequences, and move on. Quit running away all the time. Now get dressed. I'm leaving in ten minutes, with or without you."

We left on time, with Jason wearing the clothes that I had instructed him to wear. He spent the entire morning and lunch at his desk. I think he ran to the bathroom after everyone else had left for the cafeteria. At 2:30 Jason was still sitting at his desk. I stopped by his desk and ordered him to join me. We walked out of the law department and into the hall. I caught a couple of the girls watching us as we walked out.

"This sucks," he said. "You're sadistic. You must love hurting people and trying to destroy their lives."

"That's pretty mean yourself, Jason. I find it hard to believe that the Jasmine I enjoy being with on the weekends is the same person that cringes through work during the week. I'm merely forcing you to deal with yourself. With your own desires. It seems you can't do it."

"You're forcing me to do something that I would never do on my own. Something that I don't want to do. I would be perfectly happy living as Jason during the week and Jasmine on the weekends. That is what I want."

"No it's not. You know it inside. You'd regret that decision and you know it. Maybe not right away, but eventually. As your life settled into a boring routine with no real friends, you'd start to ask your self if the blandness was worth the price."

He stopped and got in my face, "Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you the expert on my life? How do you know what I want or how I feel? Who gave you the right to run my life? Or ruin it?"

"You gave me that right. You asked for it. You agreed to it. And sweetie, I know I'm right." I continued walking towards the vending machines. I stopped and turned around to where Jason was still standing, "And you know I'm right."

Jason turned and walked back to the office. When I returned, I set a diet coke on his desk and went to my office. Jasmine and Terri popped in less than 10 minutes later. "Oh my god, did you see what the little fruit is wearing today? I can not believe that he would have the nerve to wear those pants."

"It's unbelievable. You can see his panty lines clear as day. And he doesn't have any socks even. He's wearing stockings. No wonder he hid all day."

"How could any man wear those into his place of work? It's disgusting. It's sick."

"Those are definitely women's shoes. Panties, camisole, stockings pants and shoes."

"Don't forget the hair style, hoop earrings and long nails. He's a transvestite. And he has the nerve to wear those clothes in here.  It's despicable."

I let them rant for a while then intervened. "He can wear what he wants. I don't think there is any law that says he can't wear those clothes."

"No he can't," said Jasmine. "There is a dress code and it says 'appropriate' clothing. Women's clothing is not appropriate when worn by a man. Or whatever he is."

"I think you have to bring it up with his management. You have to lodge complaints with Lisa."

"Are you sticking up for him?"

"I'm just giving my opinion. You can't harass him just because you don't like his choice in clothing. Can you?"

"Wanna bet? Just watch us." The girls left and didn't return the rest of the day. I found out what they were up to on the drive home.

I worked until 6:30 before I closed up my files. I found Jason sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. "Hey Jason, ready to go?" He just looked at me, his eyes were bloodshot and wet. He had been crying again. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Oh I'm just fucking swell. Your fucking bitches managed to make my life a living hell this afternoon."

"What did they do?"

"What the hell do you care? I'm the one that has to step up to life and take the consequences. You can sit in your little ivory tower and stay immune from the real world out here." He started sniffling.

"Listen, I want you to write an e-mail to Lisa right now and complain about what they did."

"What difference will that make? She's one of them."

"I'm going back to my office and when you've finished writing the letter, print a copy and bring it to me. I want to review it before you send it off. We're not going home until you write that letter. I'll be waiting in my office." I waited for almost an hour before Jason brought in the letter. His eyes looked a little better. He threw a Kotex on my desk and flipped the letter on top of it.

"What's this?" I asked.

"That's the Kotex that Jasmine threw on my desk after I called her a closet lesbian. When she threw it on my desk she said something like, 'The little sissy must be on the rag. Here you go girly boy, here's a new rag for you.' It got rather ugly out there, but then you wouldn't know or care."

"I'm sorry Jason. I do care, believe me, but it doesn't change my mind and it shouldn't change yours. She threw a Kotex on your desk? That's great," I said with a chuckle.

"What makes that so great?" he demanded.

"Don't you see, Jason? You pissed her off. You fought back and pissed her off. Congratulations, you found your backbone. Sit down and give me a couple of minutes, I want to read this letter of yours." I took out my red pen and made a few corrections on the letter and gave it back to Jason. "You can take or leave my suggestions. Send it off to Lisa and copy Mr. Kleber in HR. Print off another copy for me please. And bring back that copy I wrote on. I need to make sure that it is disposed of correctly."

Jason took the letter and left for his desk. "Wait," I yelled. "Come back."

"What?" he asked.

"I changed my mind. Don't copy Kleber in HR. Not yet."

"Ok," and he left. He returned about 15 minutes later with the old copy and the new copy. I filed the new copy and on our way to the elevator I stopped in the mail room and shredded the old copy.

On the way home I stopped and bought a 12 pack of Jason's favorite beer, MGD. Jasmine and Karen drank over half of it Monday night as we watched football.

Tuesday morning I laid out Jason's clothes for the day. "Not again," he complained when he saw them. "Can't you cut me a break just once?"

"The war has been engaged. You were great yesterday, you can't quit now."

"Easy for you to say. It's not your life that's being destroyed. I hate going into work. I got sick to my stomach this morning. I know it has to be caused by the work stress. I want out in the worst way, but where in the world can I find a job in this economy? This sucks."

"That's really too bad Jason, sweetie. We can stop and get some Pepcid AC on the way to work. That should help your stomach."

"BFD."

Tuesday was worse for Jason. By now everyone in the building knew what he was wearing, and there was a steady parade of tourists coming through the office. None of them said anything derogatory, in fact most just gawked and left. A few tried to make small talk so they could spend more time studying his clothes. He heard plenty of chuckles and snickers through out the day. The only people who were openly and verbally hostile were Terri and Jasmine. Although not as open about it, Lisa was also antagonistic towards Jason.

At lunch I heard many comments about his clothing, his sexual preferences and ancestry. Jason had replaced 'Linda the slut' as the number one topic of conversation. They mentioned a couple of comments and nasty things that they wanted to do. I interrupted them and reminded them I represented the Human Resources department and if I heard of any harassment, sexual or otherwise, I would have to report it to HR. They said very little in front of me after that. I was sure that they were still plotting, but just not with me around.

When I returned to my desk I wrote a mild reminder about company policy concerning harassment and sent it to everyone in the department. That earned me a reprimand from my immediate manager, John Taylor. It was not my responsibility to handle personnel matters within the law department. How nice I thought; the SOB always turned down my requests for lunch and usually turned down or cancelled face-to-face meetings in his office, but he had the time to send me a nasty-gram about harassment. Even more disgusting was the fact that he never left his office to walk out into the real world and see what was going on. None of the other attorneys ever came out of their little castles.

Jason had another horrible day. The girls had escalated their attacks and hatred from the day before. I told him to keep a log of all comments and tricks that he encountered. On a weekly basis he could send them to Lisa.

Tuesday night Jasmine and Karen drank the rest of the beer.

I wasn't about to let Jason back down, and so Wednesday I had him wear a very dressy pair of gray slacks. They came from a suit I owned and they were a step up in quality and style. They were fully lined, so I told Jason not to wear any stockings. I told him he would love the feel of the smooth rayon liner against his smooth legs.

"Just wear a pair of your short calf stockings," I told him.

On Thursday I coupled the slacks with a soft, androgynous looking sweater. I knew the girls would assume it was a woman's sweater. It actually was a woman's sweater, but there was no way to tell that without checking the label. Of course that didn't stop the girls.

And on Friday I gave him a woman's blouse. It was cut in a man's style, but the buttons and the darts under the arms gave away the origin. The girl's comments became even cruder and nastier when they saw his blouse. Some of the other girls in the department were starting to join in. Jason was near to tears when we went to get our afternoon coke. "When you get back to your desk, print out your list of grievances, make a copy for me and yourself and take it to Lisa in person," I told him.

He did as I instructed and things got even worse. She chewed him out for wearing women's clothing. "This is an office of law, not a gay bar! Your choice in styles and clothing are totally inappropriate for this office. You are the distraction and cause of the friction within this office. You had better change your attitude, not the other people." She took his list and tore it up.

At 6:00, Jason was again sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. His long, manicured nails were very evident and he quietly sniffed. "Jason? Another bad day?"

"Oh, you might say that. But I doubt you would. I'm building character and handling consequences. I'm maturing nicely, thank you. I've never been so humiliated in my life, but by golly I'm maturing nicely."

"Tell me what happened with Lisa."

"She yelled at me and then ripped up my list. It's all my fault she said."

"E-mail your list to her, and this time copy Kleber."

"That should clear up everything," he said sarcastically.

"Do it," I ordered. "I'm going to sit here and watch you do it."

 

I knew that Jason was starting to lose his grip on his emotions. I had seen it with my mother two years earlier when she had lost dad. It took a long time for her to accept her problem and see the doctor. It was an ugly scene, with mom constantly crying and unable to function. It wasn't until the doctor put her on Paxil that she could function and join the world again. It was a lifesaver, and I was already sure that Jason was going to need it. I had him make an appointment to see his doctor ASAP. The best that he could do was next Tuesday.

I tried to interest Jason in becoming Jasmine on Friday night and going out to the clubs. He was too tired he said, and I believed him. I made sure that we retired early Friday evening. I slept with him, but refused to have sex. I had decided that I would only have sex with his alter-ego Jasmine. It was meant to serve as positive reinforcement for his crossdressing.

We took full advantage of our Saturday. We dressed casually, did a little window shopping, had a light snack for lunch and returned to the apartment later in the afternoon. We spent the afternoon setting Jasmine's hair, polishing her nails and getting ready for the evening. We mutually decided to go back to Glitter. We thought it would be a comfortable and easy evening. Because it was Glitter, we knew we could dress over the top, and so we went crazy. Jasmine wore a mini dress that had spaghetti straps, a surplice bodice and a hem that was over two inches above her knee. I gave her blue artificial lashes to wear, and then sprinkled her face with lots of glitter.

I poufed up her hair and gave it a wild but 'styled' look. Don't ask me how I did it, because I was totally winging the whole style. But it came out campy and attractive. We gave her the biggest drop earrings that we could find and I found a ring for almost every finger she had. I put a gold slave bracelet around her ankle, and we finished off Jasmine with a new scent that we had bought that afternoon.

We bopped on down to Glitter and flashed our IDs on the way into total bedlam. The sound system was in full throat and was pounding out Eurodisco at an earsplitting level. We headed straight to the dance floor and ran into Tara. I knew it would be a good night for Jasmine. Tara was her favorite TV and I let the two of them hang together the rest of the night. They spent most of their time dancing and the rest of the time talking. I had no idea how they were able to communicate over the loud music. I actually left for half an hour and walked down the street to an old dive that I used to visit. It was quiet and I was able to let my ears recuperate. I felt comfortable leaving Jasmine on her own.

Before the drag show started, the music ended and we were able to talk a little. "Tara, Jasmine tells me that you are an attorney. Is that right?"

"Yes. I've been practicing for 7 years. I understand that you just passed your boards. Congratulations."

"Thanks. Do you belong to a firm?"

"Yea, a small firm. There's just 3 of us."

"What do specialize in?"

"Just about anything. We're not fussy, but mostly workers comp, bankruptcies, medical malpractice and my specialty - workplace harassment."

"Do you ever do any sexual harassment?"

"All the time. You need some help?

"Not me, but I might know someone else that could use your help. How can I contact you?"

"You thinking about Jasmine?"

"Yea, how'd you know?"

"She told me a little bit about what's going on. She has my number. I'd kill for her. When she's ready, have her contact me, I'll take good care of her."

"Thanks," I said. "I'm not sure when everything is going to blow up, but I have a feeling it won't be long."

The show was excellent as usual. Jasmine must have given away $5. It might not sound like much to you, but we were still living on a very limited budget. When the show was over the sound system kicked on again. It was time for me to go. I grabbed Jasmine and yelled in her ear, "We have to go. I want you to give Tara a goodnight kiss. A nice one. Ok?"

She nodded her head then turned to Tara. She said something to her, then they embraced and kissed . It was a long, slow, lingering kiss. I was surprised that Jasmine gave her such a kiss. Tara winked and waved as we left.

I wrapped my arm through Jasmine's as we walked down the street. I had to ask, "Is Tara a good kisser?"

"Hmmm hmmmm."

"As good as me?"

"Maybe," she said quietly.

"Was that your 1% tonight?"

"A girl never tells. And why are you so interested? Jealous or something?"

"Maybe," I giggled. "Maybe I'm going to have to win you back. Is there something I need to do to impress you?"

"Let's see how you compare first." We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a long kiss.

"Well?" I asked.

"It's rather difficult to tell. We'll have to check out some other talents when we get home. Do you know the Chinese twisting rope trick?"

We laughed and then kissed again. When we arrived home, I made her stay dressed, as we made love on the living room rug. There was no foreplay as we were both extremely horny. We pulled our panties off, pulled up our dresses and I straddled Jasmine as she layed on her back. "Take me, gorgeous," she ordered.

"Yes ma'am," I answered and I slid my wet pussy down over her petite cock. It didn't take either one of us long to cum.

When finished, we carefully undressed each other, cleaned off our makeup and slipped into something sexy. We went to her bed and slowly titillated each other for the next 45 minutes. It was a wonderful tryst.

 

Monday we went back to work. Things changed for the better. An e-mail message had been sent out to all employees in the facility. It was a short reminder from HR concerning sexual harassment. I was sure that it was in response to Jason's e-mail complaint. At lunch, I found out that Lisa had been called to HR to have a quick chat about the situation. It must not have gone the way Lisa wanted. She had never had much use for HR, and today she was cussing them out.

"I'm supposed to make sure that all the harassment stops," she told us.

"You mean the swish can dress like a girl? Wear women's clothes and prance around like a fairy?"

"Yea. Isn't that nice?"

"That's stupid. They really are idiots in HR."

"Is that all they said?" I asked.

"I'm supposed to keep a list of what he wears each day. Anything too girly." Lisa was disgusted.

"You mean like his hair and earrings?" Terri asked.

"Those don't count," she said. "It's accepted in general society for men to wear earrings and have long hair."

"What about camisoles, panties and women's slacks?"

"I don't know if I can say much about under garments. But I'll list them whenever I notice them. If you can actually see panty lines and cami straps let me know each day. I think it will look better if I can say that other employees saw those items, as opposed to just me."

"Is that it?" I asked.

"And I'm also supposed to keep a daily list of his performance and any disruptions. They can use those against him."

"Are they going to try and fire him?"

"I think so. That was my impression, but they need documentation to protect themselves."

"So you have to protect him and stop the harassment? That stinks." Jasmine wrinkled her nose as she emphasized stink.

Lisa grinned and looked at Terri and Jasmine, "That's what I will say to everyone. But whatever happens behind my back … well, there isn't much I can do. Especially if I don't see it. You know what I mean?"

They knew. The three of them chuckled like a coven of witches getting ready to drop the little children into the boiling cauldron. Upon returning to my office, I dutifully logged our conversation in my Govt directory. As long as I had it open, I flashed through all of the Jasmine pictures from the daily background scenes. I need to get some more recent pictures of her I thought.

On Tuesday Jason went to the doctor and I insisted that he come back with a prescription for Paxil. Even though the near term office situation was going to improve a little, I wasn't going to let it last forever.

The girls started referring to Jason as 'Fancy Britches' and even called him that to his face. So I thought it only appropriate to give him fancy britches to wear each day. To keep Jason from going over the deep end, I alternated him from conservative to dressy each day. I owned a pair of dockers, and since we wore the same size, I let him wear those on some days. On other days I gave him the slacks from some of my dressier suits. On dress-down Friday's he wore a tight pair of two pocket jeans from Liz Claiborne. No matter which day it was, it was evident to anyone who wanted to look that he was wearing women's pants.

The next week was Thanksgiving. It was a short 3 day work week, so I decided to liven things up a bit more. I sent Jason back to work with his hair in a French braid. There was no subtlety to it all. It was obviously a female hairstyle. That turned up the office temperature a bit more. And for good measure, on Wednesday he wore a pair of plaid wool slacks. Lisa and Jason each filed their weekend reports.

The long weekend was wonderful therapy. Even though I had raised the anxiety level, the Paxil was starting to take effect and calm Jason. Jasmine knew that she would get to wear her breast forms for 4 full days, and that put her in a good mood. She moved her usual Wednesday night electrolysis appointment to Tuesday. That way she managed to keep 2 of her usual 3 weekly sessions, and got another night for dressing. Wednesday and Thursday we went to straight clubs, Friday and Saturday we went to gay clubs. During the days we went grocery shopping, saw a couple of movies and did some needed cleaning around the house.

Jasmine's hair extensions were starting to look and feel a little worse for the wear. I called Gina and asked if we could stop by for a quick consultation. Gina agreed to give us 10 minutes of her valuable time.

"Yes, it is starting to get a little old," she agreed. "But if you can wait two more weeks, I think Jasmine's own hair might be long enough to style."

"What kind of style do you think you can do?" I asked.

"I'm sure I'll be able to cut it in a graduated blunt."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, a bob. It will be cut to the same length all the way around, and short underneath along the neck line. You can do a lot of things with it. You can leave it straight, curl just the ends under, or you can use a small curler or curling iron and put a very nice curl in. It looks fabulous with small tight curls. It is really easy to take care of. You can towel or blow dry, or even let it air dry. You have nice straight hair, and air drying should leave it styled nicely. It's a great on the go style. What do you think?"

"Will I be able to pull it back in a ponytail?" Jasmine asked.

"I wouldn't worry about that Jasmine. I think it sounds like the perfect style for you. I think you should do it," I urged.

"Shall I mark you down? Two Saturdays from now?" Gina asked.

I looked at Jasmine, waiting for her to decide. I even nodded my head trying to coax her along. "Ok."

Our weekend passed too fast and the dreaded Monday came too soon. On Monday morning I allowed Jason to wear his hair in a ponytail. I set out bikini panties and a panty girdle with pads. The girls wouldn't be able to see his panty line, but they would see why I called him Cally. I laid out his corset, camisole, stockings to clip to his garters and a pair of slacks from my good black suit. It had light pinstripes, large cuffs and looked very dressy. I gave him the blouse cut in a man's style that he had worn before.

I had him wear a pair of shoes that were new for work, although not new for the clubs. They were narrow with a low cut that reached half way from the ankle to the toe. It would be very easy to notice the stockings. They came with a dressy one and a half inch heel. They were very fashionable in the straight clubs. Up above, I had him wear his usual one-inch hoop earrings and a small stud above them.

For something else new, I made him carry a purse. Since we were usually the first ones to arrive in the morning, and almost the last to leave in the evening, it was unlikely anyone would see. I just wanted him to become more comfortable and reliant on a purse. He complained as usual, but then he complied.

"I can't carry a purse. That's like waving a red flag in front of a bull."

I ended the complaining quickly, "And don't forget to carry a tampon with you."

The usual tension and problems followed him around work. He received comments from almost all of the girls in the office. He hid in his little cubicle as much as he could, but he did have to venture out to work on computers and take things to the copier room.

He managed to do his computer work first thing in the morning, before any of the attorneys arrived. He had the routine upgrades on their PCs taken care of before 9:00 everyday, and so they never saw him. They almost never wandered out of their offices, and probably wouldn't have recognized half their employees if they had met them on the street. They were an insulated, pampered and spoiled group of hermits. They probably communicated between themselves, but I would never have known. I was totally out in the cold.

But when Jason did have to wander out into the open, the sarcasm and insults were always there. The nicest girls went out of their way to ignore him or not have any contact in the first place. The meanest, and Jasmine was one of them, went out of their way to confront and insult him. Jasmine called him 'swish' or 'fancy pants' or even 'girly-boy'. She would pat him on his rear when he walked by, or make kissing noises as she followed him to the copy room.

Sometimes she would go to his vacant desk and take papers or throw papers on the floor. One day she took all of the staples out of his stapler and went through his desk to take all of his tape and paperclips. She did lot's of little things to annoy him. While Terri wasn't an active accomplish, she did act as lookout in case Jason returned. By midweek Jason no longer went to the vending machines with me. He did most of his copy room work at lunch when Jasmine was at the cafeteria. He started to keep as little active work as possible on his desk, and basically hid in his foxhole. In fact, that is what he started calling his cubicle, 'The Foxhole'.

Of course he dutifully recorded all of the problems and e-mailed them every Friday to both Lisa and Kleber in HR. I always received a private copy. I would initial and date the paper, then I would scan it and place the electronic file in my Govt directory. The hard copies went into a paper file in my locked desk. I was acquiring a very damaging collection of paperwork.

Along with his complaints, I was starting to see paperwork from HR. I was their first contact in the law department, and I started to see official records of malfeasance, insubordination, disruptions and other problems. These were the result of Lisa's weekly reports. In most cases they directly conflicted with Jason's reports, and in some cases were total fabrications. I kept a separate log where I addressed the fabrications. That log stayed in my attachι and went home with me every night. The ammunition was accumulating.

Fortunately, the Paxil was doing its job and Jason was staying sane, if not exactly happy. I continued to choose his clothes and I always made him fashionable. On nice days he was dressed androgynously, and on those other days … let's just say he looked sweet.

I received a surprise later that week. Terri hand delivered an envelope to me. It looked like an invitation and it was. It was from the director of the law department, Mr. Pearson. I was invited to his house on the following Saturday, the 11^th. He was having his 12^th annual Christmas party for the 'staff'. I soon found out that the 'staff' consisted solely of the attorneys. I was surprised to find me included in the group. I was going to be the token female. The envelope was addressed to Karen Marlowe and Guest. Since I had no boy friend to invite, I tried to think of someone else to take with me. I had a delicious idea. I almost wet my panties thinking about it. I wondered if we could pull it off, and I couldn't wait to spring it on Jasmine.

It was the most amazing idea. I was going to take Jasmine to the party and make love to her in Pearson's own house. No that wasn't right. 'Make love' wasn't the right way to say it. It was missing the guttural emotions I was feeling. Sex? No even that wasn't what I was feeling. I needed something more crude and vulgar. Fuck. I was going to fuck Jasmine in Pearson's house. Better yet, his bedroom. Oh no, even better than that, on his bed! I was getting wet just thinking about it. More than anything else, I wanted to fuck Jasmine on Pearson's own bed.

Wow! What a great idea. How could it get any better? If Pearson found out somehow. After the fact of course. Something he couldn't do anything about. What? What? What if I left a used condom in his bed? Ohhh, gross. Way too gross for me. Ugh! I'd have to think about it. Something to say nyah, nayah!

But first things first. I had to make sure that I could even take Jasmine. I called Mr. Pearson, "Mr. Pearson, hi this is Karen Marlowe. How are you today? Great. That's good. I just received your invitation to your party. Thank you very much. I would love to come. Mr. Pearson, I have a little favor to ask. Your invitation said 'and guest'. That's very generous. It just so happens that right now I'm … ah … between boyfriends. Yea, it is too bad. I'm a little reluctant to drive into an area I've never been before, I'm sure you're in a great neighborhood, but I'm not very good at directions, and … ahhh … I'll probably make a wrong turn on the way there, and … yes. Getting to the point, would it be alright if I brought my roommate? Thank you sir. I'm looking forward to the party. See you there. Thanks."

That was easy. Now, how do I prepare Jasmine? How do I disguise her? Wait a minute, check the schedule. It's on the same day as Jasmine's hair appointment. She'll look totally different. No one will possibly recognize her. Perfect! Better than perfect, outrageous!

I was thinking out of order and incoherently. My mind was flying.

How do I get into his bedroom? How do I get the privacy to FUCK Jasmine in Pearson's own bed? Think. Think. Think … emergency. Girl stuff. But both of us? Think, think, … I had it! Wardrobe malfunction. YES! Jasmine would have a wardrobe malfunction. We would need a private room for several, 15 or 20 minutes so I could sew up her problem. Her dress? Bra? It didn't' matter. I didn't have to tell him. I didn't even have to fake anything. He didn't give a shit about me or what I was doing. He'd be too interested in talking with anybody other than me. 'Mr. Pearson, Jasmine has a little wardrobe problem. Oh no, nothing too serious. Lucky for us, I always carry a little sewing kit in my purse. But we need somewhere private where she can take off her , ummm … so I can sew up the little problem. Your bedroom? That would be wonderful. Are you sure that's ok? Thank you. Does it have a lock? It would be rather embarrassing to Jasmine if someone walked in and … Great. Thank you so much. We'll be right back. Right after I FUCK her on your bed. What? You want to watch? I'm sorry, only super hot chicks are allowed to watch. Ha ha.'

Back to Jasmine. The party would be easy. She'd look totally different with her new hairstyle and color. I'd get some fake glasses for her to wear. None of these assholes would recognize her if she came up and gave them a blow job. They had no idea who, what or why she was. That part would be easy.

But. But. What would we do when we returned to work on Monday. Yea, they never came out of their holes, but this once they would. Someone would recognize her. We'd be toast. Her hair was the most obvious thing to change. Sunday, after the party I could change her to blonde. That wouldn't be good for her hair, changing colors two days in a row. Gina could help me. There is probably something we can do on the color. Curls! We'd give her a real curly style on Saturday, and then wash them out for Monday. Yea, that could work. The glasses on Saturday would help. I'd make them large and give them a strong color. Not just the frames, but maybe we could tint the lenses. That would help. It would be expensive though. But wait, Jasmine had only one more payment on her credit card, then she would be out of debt.

Stop it! Get back to earth. She fought too hard to get out of debt. This was for me. If I wanted this, I'd pay for it. I was only $30,000 in debt. Another couple hundred wouldn't make any difference in the long run.

What else? Hair color, curls, glasses and what else? Jewelry. Big drop earrings on Saturday, back to small hoops on Monday. No, studs. Small, small studs. What else? What? Nails! I hated to do it, but we could cut her nails on Sunday. She wouldn't mind. Or maybe she would. It didn't matter. A moustache! Yea, that would look stupid. Come on think. Think. Think. Blank, blank, blank.

Ok, I could work on that. I had almost two weeks. Yea, I could make this work. This could be awesome. Fuck you Mr. Pearson. And all of your stupid male pigs!

I looked at the clock and it was almost 6:30. I had been daydreaming a long time. And I was still wet. Jasmine was going to get a surprise when we reached home. I decide also that I wasn't going to tell her anything. It would freak her out. The less she knew in advance the better. I'd drag her into this at the last minute, just like I did on everything else. She'd moan and whine, but she would go along

Damn it! I was brilliant.

"Jason, Let's go home you sexy goddess."

 

The rest of the week and the next, I dressed Jason conservatively for work. I had him wear dockers and jeans most of the time. If Lisa wanted to bitch about him wearing jeans, that was the least of our worries. I wanted Jason to be in a good mood leading up to the party.

The next weekend, the weekend before the party and Jasmine's hair appointment, we dressed to the nines and went to straight bars. I wanted her to get more experience with the paranoid section of our society. I made it a point to pick up men. I wanted her to get as much experience as possible. I wanted her to feel comfortable around straight men. She was getting good at flirting and I wanted her to get even better. The last thing I wanted was her to get uptight and unnatural in her conversation and body language. I knew it was going to be difficult for her when she faced the attorneys, so I wanted her to have some instinct and practice to fall back on.

Each night I made love to her fully dressed. No, it was closer to fucking. I took her into her bedroom and removed her shoes. I was making her wear 4-inch heels, and after 5 or 6 hours on them, I knew they were killing her feet. After she was on her back and on the bed, I reached under her dress and pulled off her panty girdle and panties. I made sure that she held her dress out of the way so that no pre-cum would accidentally leave a stain. I even told her what I was doing and why. "Your clothes are expensive and important, even in lust I want you to take care of them."

I pulled a condom out of my bra and surprised her to no end. She started giggling and asked, "Did you have that in there all night?"

"Absolutely. You never know where or when you'll need one. Right?"

"Right."

I opened it and rolled it on her little penis. I was about to flip the foil aside when the IDEA hit me. I would leave the foil in Pearson's bed. Yes! That thought excited me even more. I quickly pulled my panties off and mounted Jasmine. I soon made her cum and I was right behind her. I blew her a kiss, but made sure not to mess up our makeup.

I got off Jasmine and reminded her, "Don't let your dress touch your wet penis. We don't want any stains. I went to the bathroom and slid a tampon in, then returned to Jasmine with a Kleenex. I removed her condom, wiped off her penis and tossed the Kleenex aside. Another great idea hit me. Yes it was gross, but it would be fun to leave that Kleenex behind. Well maybe. Back to the topic at hand. I made Jasmine put her panties and girdle back on.

"Why? I'm just going to take them off," she protested.

I couldn't really say, 'Because we're practicing for next week'. Instead I said, "Because I want to make sure that your penis is safely tucked away when you remove your dress. That is a very expensive dress and it looks absolutely gorgeous on you. I don't want to take even the slightest little risk that you'll stain it."

We ran the same routine the next night, Saturday. I again dressed Jasmine in 'Expensive Hooker' costume and took her to a very upscale club. We teased the boys and flirted until our pussies (at least mine) was soaking wet. We screwed twice that night. The first time was in the girl's restroom. I wanted her to feel the adrenaline rush as we were in a public situation where we could get caught. Then I took her home and again practiced fucking with all of our clothes on. And once more, I went through the full ritual of re-dressing before undressing.

I did everything I could to get ready. I dressed Jason conservatively and made sure he took his Paxil every day. I took him out Monday night to buy some fake glasses. Since they were plain glass with no prescription power, I couldn't get them tinted, which was just as well considering the cost. On Tuesday I called the salon and asked about both of us getting a manicure, along with Jasmine's hair appointment. Jasmine's salon fund was going to pay for her hair, but I was going to have to pony up for the manicures. The things I did for that girl! The things I did for my own perverse revenge against the jerks that I worked with.

If I pulled this off it was all going to be worth it.

I spent the week giving my work just the slightest bit of my attention. I was still plotting and scheming for our Saturday party. Then I received an e-mail on Friday morning. HR had put together their paperwork and justification and they were confirming that they were ready to fire Jason. They would fire him late in the afternoon. Security had been alerted and they were to report to the law department at 4:00 P.M.

I was in shock. I knew this was coming. I was expecting it, but it still hit me in the gut. I felt sick. Everything was real now. This was no longer a game. I was no longer getting even with the company and men vicariously through Jason and Jasmine. Jason and Jasmine were no longer preparing to spend the rest of their life as a girl. Now it was going to happen. I was no longer playing mind games with the girls and the law department. Everything had just gotten real. The fun was over. Now it was for real. Now it was real money and real war. The big cats were about to wake up, stretch their claws and step off the porch.

Gulp. At least now I didn't have to worry about anyone recognizing Jason on Monday.

I couldn't let this happen now. I had big plans for the weekend and Jason would be devastated. He wouldn't be able to perform, and I wanted this way too much. I had to do something. I threw an envelope into my printer and pulled up a default address for a judge at the city courthouse. I printed out the envelope and then wrote out a quick note. 'Sorry, I needed a diversion to get this man out of the office. I apologize', and I even signed it. I put the note in the envelope, sealed it and then went to Jason's cubicle.

"Jason, I'm in big trouble. I need this to get to the courthouse immediately. Here's the keys to my car, run this over immediately and give it to the judge's bailiff, would you please? Just go home from there. I'll take a taxi home. Thanks, and hurry, it's really important."

A little after 4:00, Lisa came to my office. "Have you seen Jason?"

"Yea, I had an emergency and I had him deliver a letter to the courthouse."

Lisa was apoplectic. "You did what? What the hell did you do that for? You got the e-mail. He's supposed to be fired." I thought she was going to burst a vessel.

"It was an emergency. I had no choice." I was getting loud with her. I was pissed. "She shows up at 7:15 every morning. Fire her on Monday morning!"

"Her?" and Lisa gave me a quizzical look.

"Him, her , it, it doesn't matter. You're the one with the attitude. You've hated him since day one. You can wait one more day for your sadistic little revenge," I yelled at her.

My ferocity threw Lisa totally off balance. She backed out of my office without saying a word.

I sat at my desk until 4:30. I was sure that Pearson or Kleber was going to come chew me out. Nobody arrived by then, so I packed up, logged off and went home.

That night was a tough night for me. I was full of conflicting emotions and overflowing with guilt. My game had become totally real. Jason was fired and I wasn't far behind. There was no turning back. The game was real. I was going to be fired, there was no doubt about that. And I had a fifty-fifty chance of being disbarred. I was stepping into the major leagues. I was going to face 100 mph fast balls. I wasn't sure I was ready for this. I had thought I was ready, back when it had been a game. But now I was truly worried. I was worried sick.

I wanted this weekend more than anything, and in the end, that is what I hung my hope on. This weekend was going to be my focus. Monday would come, but now was the time to focus. I would never have another chance to say 'Fuck you'. Even if it was going to be anonymous, I wanted this. Now more than ever. As I fell asleep alone in my own bed I kept repeating, focus, focus, focus.

 

(continued)

  

  

  

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