A Moment of Decision                 by: Patricia Pendragon

 

It all began one night as my wife and I lay intertwined, our passion momentarily spent, but still binding us as we savoured the feel of each other’s bodies in close embrace. Breaking the embrace and drawing a little away so she could raise herself on one elbow she traced a path from my nipples to my knee and studied my reclining frame with a playful smile just visible in the moonlight streaming through the window. From my reclining position fully stretched out on my back I gazed adoringly back, counting my blessings that this wonderful and successful woman should consider me her ideal partner and lover.

We are a strange couple, even stranger now perhaps, depending on your point of view, but even at the start, she was the major breadwinner and the dominant partner. This did not worry me at all, since in my own way I was earning a good deal from my art and my writing. My wife's success made it possible for me to pursue both with a degree of security which was useful but not essential to some one, like myself, on a fluctuating income. In fact five years earlier, the position had been reversed as she had then been struggling to complete her legal training and pay of her huge student loans. It had been possible for me, then, to use the income I could generate from hack writing for any publisher that wanted a story, a report or a rewrite of something to support her while she set herself up. The sale of some of my artwork had helped too, particularly my cartoons and illustrations for a variety of publications – again, when you need the cash, you don’t get choosy.

We had known each other for a long time, but our paths crossed and parted as we each developed our talents until, by chance, she answered my ad for a studio model. She had been in trouble with the bank and behind with her fees and I had helped her out. We shared a flat for several months and then realised we were deeply in love, and married on the spur of the moment. Now five years on, neither of us regretted our decision for a single moment and, if anything, the difference in our ages actually worked in our favour. I am younger than she by several years, and was fortunate to have a small inheritance to fund me through university. By contrast, my wife had had to work her way through her law degree on a part time programme doing a full days work as well as her course, which she had had to pay for in full. Even so, our independence financially made for a stronger bond between us in many ways and we shared a love for adventurous games in bed which added frisson to our lovemaking and to our love and respect for each other.

On the night in question, she studied me speculatively and then asked, "Barry, have you ever considered dressing as a woman?"

"What?" I grinned, back at her sure she was joking, "Why my love – your clothes look so much better on you than they would on me! I have entirely the wrong shape and equipment – or hadn’t you noticed that these last few years?" I finished laughing.

"Delicious man, of course I’ve noticed! Seriously, darling, have you?"

"Beloved woman, I confess, I have," I grinned sheepishly at her, then went on, "But, as an artist the vision I would present if I did puts me clean off the idea! I would look grotesque!"

"Not necessarily you know. You have a build which could be easily ‘amended’ to put the curves in the right places, and," she grinned wickedly, "well endowed though you are my dear, that too can be concealed and amended to suit the need." She sat and faced me her legs crossed and her gorgeous breasts milk white in the moonlight, as she considered my naked form before her. "You would make a stunning woman given a few modifications," she commented speculatively, "Want to give it a try? For me?"

"Goddess," I temporised, "what use would I be to my beloved wife as a woman? But, if it would make you any happier than you are now, yes, I would do it for you."

"You gorgeous man," she smiled as she unfolded herself and straddled me again, lowering herself onto my rising member and then gently sinking down to embrace me from above. "I promise you it will be the most amazing experience of your life – and believe me, you will find that there is a lot you can do for me as a woman!" She silenced my response with a kiss and her tongue found mine as we once more began to consummate our love.

I forgot all about this conversation as she said nothing more that night and it was not raised at breakfast or during the next several days. Then a package arrived for her from a foreign address, and when she opened it that evening she was quite excited. It contained a paper and cardboard measuring kit, the purpose of which she kept secret, but, sharing her love of bondage had given me some insight into a few of the ‘toys’ available, and this looked suspiciously like the sort of measuring kit generally associated with chastity devices. I jokingly suggested this when she invited me to strip off so she could use it on me, and she laughed and said I was spot on! Surprised into silence by this I allowed her to fit it, adjust it and then remove it before I asked what on earth she wanted me in one of those for?

"Darling," she teased, "ask me no questions yet! All will be plain eventually. Trust me my love, remember what I asked the other night? Well, it has to do with that!"

"What, me dressing as a woman? What the hell has a chastity belt got to do with that?" I grinned back at her, "those things just make me horny and frustrated!"

"I know my dear!" she grinned in response, "trust me!" And she would not be drawn any further. With that I had to be content.

Two months later a heavier package arrived from the same address, but this time addressed to me. Opening it I found a letter in my wife’s handwriting and a metal and rubber device. The letter read:

"My darling husband,

Please put this on yourself and then look in the toy cupboard for another package. I will be home early today and I would like you to have it all on under your shorts only.

The chastity device is designed by a German company called Neosteel and is made to measure – remember our little session with the measuring kit? Think of it as the start of something really wonderful.

Your loving wife,

E"

Taking the whole package to the playroom I took out the steel and rubber bits again and studied them closely. The thing came in several parts, first a waist band, then a sort of shield designed to cover another piece shaped and moulded to fit over the wearers genitals. A tube was obviously designed to hold the penis and prevent access or damage, while the testes would be contained and inaccessible inside the moulding which supported the tube. These fitted into a connecting mechanism on the shield and the whole was secured by a central ‘post’ which secured the shield to the waist belt. Steel chains connected to the rear of the shield looped up to connect to the waist band and secured the base of the shield to the wearer in much the same way as the straps on a jock strap.

It took several minutes to fit myself into this device and when it was on I discovered that the post locked into place and only a key would release it. There was no key in the package! The second discovery was that this device secured my genitals in a manner that left me with a female profile to my crutch. It looked exciting and felt comfortable to wear – I just hoped that my beloved wife wasn’t going to tell me she didn’t have a key to it! Remembering the second package, I opened the drawer her note had indicated and sure enough there was a second lighter package waiting with another note attached.

"Since you will now be secured and have to squat like me on the toilet, my love," I read, "I thought you ought to get used to looking like a lady as well. In this package is a nice little latex cunny for you. Put it on after you have shaved your legs and then wait for me in my dressing gown. I have some more things for you when I get home tonight. Love E."

Pulling open the package I found myself holding a pair of skin tone latex shorts, the crutch of which was incredibly detailed and looked exactly like a vagina! They were also slightly padded over the buttocks and hip areas and when I pulled them on completely covered the steel contraption I was wearing so that, looking in the mirror, I was apparently now a female in shape and form! Removing them again I carefully shaved my legs completely and as much of my body hair as could be removed around the belt. Then, after applying lots of talc, I replaced the shorts. Now when I looked in the mirror the image reflected was a curious breastless female, my own hair worn long and rather thick and straight, framing a face that had been described in my school and university years as androgynous. I went in search of my wife’s dressing gown

She arrived home earlier than usual and greeted me with a really delighted hug and kiss which made me wish I wasn’t wearing the damned chastity belt! It was damned uncomfortable having any sort of arousal! As she led me upstairs she had a huge grin on her face and the sort of look that told me this was going to be one of the more interesting days of our lives!

"Let me have a look at you," she said as soon as we were upstairs, "Take the gown off and let’s see how you fit."

"OK," I grinned back at her, "But I can tell you it’s getting pretty cramped in there."

"I bet," she laughed, "but that’s why I ordered the ‘she-male’ model of that belt for you. It conceals everything so much more effectively than anything else. Mmmm," she added appreciatively, "It really does do the business!"

"As you say love," I grinned at her pleasure, "but, even though it looks real enough, I still have no bust and wouldn’t get away with it in any public place you know."

"Wrong my darling," she grinned mischievously, "once you have the rest on and a bit of makeup on, no-one will be able to tell you are not a real, good for a giggle, girl! Trust me, I have this all planned out. When I am finished you won’t know yourself!"

"Hey, slow down a bit my love," I gasped, "I haven’t agreed to do this long term you know! I thought it was just between us! A sort of occasional evening or something!" I protested.

"Oh Barry," she looked disappointed, and quite deflated, "I thought we’d agreed you were going to do this for me. It’s no good if it’s only for a couple of hours at a time. You won’t have time to find out if you can do it properly or even how it really feels to be a woman."

"Darling," I began, then thought about it. I actually liked the thought of being a woman, in fact it was one of my fantasies that I would one day wake up changed into an honest to goodness female! "Beloved, it’s OK. I’ll do it. The whole business, all the way if you want me to. Just let me get used to it bit by bit and," I hesitated, "you’d better get some one to coach me in how to walk and move, oh, and we’d better see about elocution as well."

"Oh Barry, my love," she smiled as she embraced me tightly, "I love you so much! We’ll get everything you want! Now, do you want to see what else I have for you?"

"Come on then my darling, you never know, some one might come calling and you would have trouble explaining being found with a naked half woman in your arms! I hope you’ve got some convincing breast thingies for me – it looks bloody strange to see a fanny and not have any titties!"

She laughed and led me back to the bedroom where she had deposited all the other packages she had brought home. Opening one she produced a box and presented it to me with a flourish, "Your wish, my lady to be! Two size C breasts to go!"

Half an hour later I studied my image in the mirror again. Glued to my chest were two natural looking breastforms, complete with nicely proportioned nipples and a completely natural movement and feel. These forms were constructed of a natural feeling, elastic and quite tough ‘skin’ and filled internally with a gelatine compound. The back which adhesive applied to the outer edges, was shaped to fit over my muscle structure and nipples and the gel compound itself was in contact with my skin. The image I studied could never be mistaken for a man’s and it gave me quite a feeling of strangeness to have my secret fantasy coming to fruition in this way. Not many men can claim that their wives have done this to and for them with such careful planning and love.

After I had shaved very closely, my wife seated me in a comfortable chair and made me put my head right back so that she, seated behind me, could massage a scented cream into my face. As she did this she explained that it would slow the regrowth of my beard and soften my skin. This was repeated on my legs and arms and particularly over my shaved body. To do this properly had necessitated removing the chastity device and my wife had given me the most amazing oral sex ‘for being such a great friend and lover’. Once all the hair was gone, however, the chastity and the false vulva went back on!

Now came the contents of the other packages. My wife had been shopping! Make up, false nails and much more in the line of beauty aids emerged and were installed on me or applied to those parts of me that required it. Lacey g-string briefs, bras, slips and tights all came out and a selection was made, tried, and changed until at last I stood before her transformed into a young woman, my face made up, my clothes quiet but stylish and in good taste. The image the mirror now gave back was of an attractive young woman with a body a lot of men would lust after.

"Well?" she asked, "Still say you’d look silly?"

"Guilty as charged M’Lady!" I admitted reluctantly, "I am amazed. I never thought you could do anything like this!"

"It gets even better my darling. Now, we can’t call this lovely young lady Barry can we! How do you fancy being Barbara?" she asked with a laugh.

"Barbara? Why not? As long as no one goes for any cheap shots like Barbie!" I grinned back at her. "What now my darling? Nothing has been prepared for dinner yet and it will take a while to whip something up. Shall I get started while you change?"

"Oh no! No, I have a table reserved in town for us and we’re meeting one of my dearest friends for dinner." She saw me start to protest and waved a hand, "Don’t worry, she is the soul of discretion and in any case is going to help you become a real woman! Don’t be scared love, it’s at a really discrete place and you will love Joan, she is a really nice person and a very close friend."

I don’t know why, but somewhere in that speech was something which set alarm bells ringing in my head. While I reluctantly agreed to go along with this, I kept wondering where it was all leading and what was really going on in my lovely wife’s head. Without realising it, in agreeing to this little exercise, and in now agreeing to go out to dinner in a public restaurant, I had reached a moment of decision which would profoundly change my life from this point on. In fact, I had agreed to become a part of something I had fantasised about but never dreamed could be a reality.

The restaurant was nice, set in a pleasant part of the ‘old town’, meaning the bit now rediscovered and claimed by the fashionable and well heeled, it had a subdued and pleasant decor, booth seating and tables and excellent food and wine cellar. Arriving a little after eight in the evening the place was just starting to fill up with patrons and I was first a little embarrassed and then gratified by the looks I attracted from both men and women in my smart evening skirt of navy, high heeled suede boots of black, topped off with a high collared silk

blouse, a bolero jacket over it, earrings (clip-on’s as I had not had my ears pierced!) and some simple jewellery at my throat and on my fingers. Several people greeted my wife as we passed to our booth and I found myself being introduced as Barbara, a friend from University and school days.

Arriving at our booth we found it occupied by an older woman with striking good looks, who rose as we arrived. "Good evening Elizabeth," she smiled a greeting as we moved into our seats, "This must be Barbara," she continued holding out a hand, "I’m Edith. Elizabeth has told me all about you, my dear. I do hope we will be good friends too."

"She was a little nervous of coming out tonight Edith," grinned Barbara as the Maitre d’ hotel arrived at the table with the menu’s and handed them round. I caught myself just as I was about to reach for the wine list, something every man expects to be handed at a restaurant when accompanied by women. Across the table Edith grinned as she spotted my confusion as the Maitre asked Elizabeth whether she would like to see the list. I was glad of the soft lighting and my make up as my face was warm with my blush!

When he had moved on to attend another table, Edith said teasingly, "It takes a while to get used to not being the man doesn’t it?" she turned to Elizabeth and continued, "thank you so much for including me in your little celebration my dear. I can see that Barbara will be a stunning success," adding to me with a winning smile, "It isn’t everyone who can make the changes so easily and I can see that you are a natural my dear. With a little coaching and some time to settle into it, you will never look back!"

"Thank you," I managed, trying not to sound like a man in drag, "I think! I am feeling very strange and nervous - and just hope that I can get through the evening without embarrassing anyone!"

"Let me give you a tip, my dear," said Edith softly, her fingers resting lightly on my arm as she leaned closer, "You have a good tenor voice, don’t try to go falsetto, just be natural and use your breath control to speak softly and it will be unnoticeable to anyone. The ear and the eye are easily deceived you know. The eye sees a certain image and that is what registers, the ear hears something slightly different to what the eye sees and the brain says no, what I see is right, therefore what I am hearing must be a mistake. Lot’s of women have deeper voices too you know! Think of Shirley Bassey, Ella Fitzgerald and Whoopi Goldberg."

"What? Oh, yes, I see what you mean," I replied thoughtfully, "Thanks, yes, I can see what you mean."

"Well done, my dears! First hurdle passed," grinned Elizabeth, "Now, the Maitre will be heading this way any minute! What are we eating?"

I let the others choose and then followed their example, with a few giggles about the need to watch one’s diet and so on. The food was good. So was the wine that accompanied it, chosen for us by the Maitre at the suggestion of my wife. As the evening wore on, I settled more and more comfortably into my new role as a woman and even managed to use the Ladies Room without a problem. Mind you, this was made easier by the fact that Edith accompanied me!

By the end of the evening we were firm friends and I could see that this, for some reason, amused my wife and pleased her at the same time. At home again I poured us both a drink and carried these up to our bedroom where I discovered my wife had another surprise in store for me! "Darling," she purred as we prepared for bed, enjoying the ritual of stripping each other, but this tie with the added buzz of my not being free to use my penis for its usual purpose, "you’ve been an absolute star! You’ve made me so happy, and Edith says that if you want to when you’ve done this for a year or so, she’ll help you make the next change." Then, as we were both stripped to the ‘skin’, she silenced my questions with a deep throat kiss.

Actually, I was not all that unhappy about what was happening. In fact, I was living a fantasy and, although I was not yet ready to admit it, there was quite an attraction to making this my long term state. That first night, as I moved to use my mouth to give my lovely wife the pleasure she deserved, I missed not being able to have the pleasure reciprocated, but consoled myself with the memory of the way she had pleasured me earlier took great care to ensure she reached the most prolonged and sustained orgasm I could give her in this way. For a long time afterward we lay in each others arms not speaking but wrapped in our own thoughts. I think it was then that I reached a further ‘moment of decision’. Although my wife had so far only hinted that she wanted this to be a long term experiment and I did not know for sure what she wanted beyond that, I decided I would like to explore the possibility of becoming wholly female - even if that meant irreversible surgery. I was still thinking this through when I fell asleep, my wife’s steady breathing and loving embrace a calming and secure influence as I drifted into sleep.

The morning brought new challenges. The first was a visit from a friend and client, some one I had known since school and for whom I frequently wrote pieces on a range of subjects, usually related to history, art or architecture. His reaction when I opened the door warned me that I was in for some difficult times ahead. Fortunately, Clive was the sort of person who tried not to be judgmental, so, after registering his initial surprise, he smiled and complimented me on how good I looked as a woman. "Damn," he said with a genuine grin, "If I were a free man and you were to cross my path looking like this, I’d be doing my damnedest to get into your panties!"

As I was wearing a rollnecked top, no bra and a pair of tight fitting leggings which enhanced the feminized appearance of my butt and crutch, with a pair of high heeled ankle boots and make-up, his compliment was extremely flattering, "Why thank you sir!" I curtsied laughing, "you quite put me to the blush! Come inside you lecherous beast. Want a coffee?" Glancing down I saw something even more flattering, the bulge in his trousers was pushing them into a peak and I recalled with surprise that I had secretly admired and coveted that piece of his anatomy when we had been growing up! But I had never dared to express that desire for fear of offending him. As I looked at it now, I could not help commenting with a grin, "If this is the effect it has on you, I wish I’d done it sooner! Come in quick, before someone screams indecency!"

"Oh God," he groaned, stepping carefully inside, "if only you knew!"

Our business was quickly concluded over a cup of coffee. Then, slightly more at ease, he asked what had made me do this. I explained about Elizabeth’s dare and how I hadn’t at first believed it possible, but, that with the right equipment, the effect he could see was achieved. As his curiosity was very raised I lifted my top and let him see the very realistic breastforms and feel them, his surprise on the realistic feel of them and his instant arousal was very satisfying. This prompted me to tease him further and I offered to show him the way in which I was modified ‘down below’. His desire overrode his embarrassment, and with a grin at his conflicting emotions I slipped the leggings and lace g-string down and let him see the latex pussy and hairless mons that now filled my crutch. At his question as to how I controlled my penis, I let him see the chastity belt! By now he was so hard his fly zip was in danger!

"Why sir," I teased, "a lady is not safe in your presence!" I quickly adjusted my latex and pulled up my g-string and leggings, tidying my dress. I was very aroused myself by his obvious arousal and torn between loyalty to my wife, as in keeping myself for her only, and the overwhelming urge to do what I had wanted to do in my teens - take this man’s engorged organ in my mouth and taste his cum!

"Oh God!" he groaned, "Damn it Barry, er, Barbara, if only I’d known you could do this back in school!"

"Well," I teased and moved close to him, my hand caressing the strained clothe, "if you really want it, I could ….." my fingers found the zip and eased it down. He groaned with desire and undid his belt and his elegant trousers slid to the floor. I freed his huge erection from his briefs and he slid them out of the way while I took in the magnificent penis in my hand.

Easing him into a chair, I knelt between his thighs and kissed the smooth skin of his swollen glans, tasting his pre-cum and savouring it’s saltiness. He groaned and his organ throbbed gently, as I took more of it into my mouth. At first this was difficult as I had never done this before and his sheer size and length worried me, but, by taking a little at a time and judiciously using my tongue, I gradually got all of it into my mouth. Gently and very carefully, I tried to do what my beloved wife did when she did this for me. The groans and moans from Clive, told me I had it right and I was rewarded rather sooner than I had hoped by an eruption of cum. The flood of his thick, salty spunk made me gag briefly until I managed to get the reflex under control and swallow. Then I continued to suck him as he relaxed and ensured I cleaned his shaft of all his delicious spunk.

I lifted my eyes to his and smiled, "Wow, Clive, if I had known you were like that and that it could be like this, I would have done this years ago!"

He grinned sheepishly, and said softly, "You clown! Didn’t you get the message during our tying up games? I’ve always had the hots for you, but thought you were completely straight! And now I can’t have you anyway!" he finished wistfully.

For a while after he left, I sat wrapped deep in thought, a reverie broken by the arrival of another visitor. This time the response to my change was less positive, in fact bordered on the hostile. It was made very plain to me that this visitor, a woman client, did not approve and mentally I scratched her business from my list. She was followed by two tradesmen whose reactions were decidedly mixed, but this I could deal with easily and by the time my wife returned early in the evening I had a delicious meal waiting with wine and candles on the table. I had also taken time out from completing a good bit of work to do my make-up and change into something flattering for her homecoming.

As we toasted each other she grinned across the rim of her glass and said gently, "Not so bad being a woman is it? I get the feeling you’re enjoying this. In fact I think I lost a husband and gained a partner and lover!"

"My dearest, you could be right!" I grinned back. Over the meal I told her about the events and the reactions of the various people, adding, "I expect that by now the whole town knows about my change of gender!"

"Oh yes," she grinned, "You can be sure of that. Does it worry you too much?"

"You know," I said seriously, "I don’t think it does. I think I learned a lot today, and, you could be right, I think it wouldn’t be difficult to persuade me to go further with it."

"Did you enjoy taking Clive," she asked mischievously and laughed at my surprise and embarrassment.

"How…?" I gasped, "I’m sorry my darling, I just couldn’t resist! He was so turned on I couldn’t help myself!" I caught her laugh of pure delight, and grinned, adding, "Yes I did enjoy him, and I have to say I have had the very best tutor at it in the world!"

Our laughter filled the house and my beloved wife came round the table to plant a passionate kiss and whisper that she would expect me upstairs for a game in twenty minutes, stressing that I must not come up before.

Our love making that night was given added frisson by her making me use a strap on to pleasure her while denying me any orgasm. My punishment was spelled out; I would have to earn my release in giving her pleasure while being denied it myself. Philosophically, and knowing I probably deserved this, I accepted it and set about proving just how much I loved her. In fact, her pleasure at my attentions was such that she had forgiven me by the morning and released me for a re-run of the night so that I could enjoy her. Afterwards she told me the arrangements she had been busy making for me to have the coaching I thought I would need.

Then it was time to get back into my role as a woman.

Later I answered the door to find a tall and well-dressed woman outside, a suitcase on the ground beside her. "Hello," she said with a dazzling smile, "you must be Barbara. I’m Kathy and Elizabeth has sent me to help you adjust your mannerisms and your voice."

"Oh!" I said, surprised, Elizabeth had said she had made an arrangement for a tutor to come today, but not who or when, "come on in. Would you like some tea or coffee?"

"Ohh, that would be nice," she smiled, "Could I have tea please. White with no sugar, thank you." She stepped inside and brought the suitcase with her. Placing this in the living room, she followed me to the kitchen and commented, "I must say, Elizabeth did warn me that you were a natural, but she didn’t tell me you were already so well adjusted."

"Oh," I blushed slightly, "I’m only just getting into this and all I have done so far is try to copy how she does things, like sit or walk," I laughed, adding, "and these boots with their heels help with that! You can’t take big steps wearing this sort of heel< you’d risk breaking a leg!"

"Oh no!" it was her turn to laugh, "Those aren’t high heels! Good God, those can’t be more than about an inch and a half at the most. But," she grinned, "I guess if you’re not used to them, it must feel like they’re really high!"

Over cups of tea we talked and discussed what she hoped to teach me. Starting with the question of heels, I commented that they seemed to throw your balance forward, which coupled with the added weight of breasts on your upper body seemed to mess up your centre of gravity a bit. This made her laugh and we began to get along famously. As the morning drew on I learned a great deal about how to walk and move like a woman and even about how to adjust my voice in a less obvious way. This proved easier than I thought and I was thankful that I did not have a deep voice anyway. By the time Elizabeth returned home that evening we were firm friends and Kathy was quick to tell her that I was the most willing and eager pupil she had yet had. I blushed again at the compliment.

The pattern of our lives changed a little from here on. Kathy occupied the Guest Bedroom for several weeks and I had daily coaching from her. We got on very well indeed and she was a very good chaperone as well – there was no way that any of my more intrigued clients could do a Clive on me again! Once I had got more comfortable and natural in my role, we went out together a lot, dinner with Edith, visits to other woman friends of Elizabeth’s and to the theatre. It became so easy for me that I hardly noticed the weeks slipping by and settled so far into feminine behaviour that I had to really think hard to act in a manly fashion anymore. It was Edith who asked the question; did I want to return to being Barry? That night in bed in my loving wife’s arms, I asked her the question; did she want Barry back?

Kissing me tenderly she looked into my eyes and said gently, "I loved Barry and still do, but I love my Barbara as well, if not more. I will always love Barry for what he was and what he did for me when I needed his help and I will love him even if he decides to return. What do you want my dearest?" she finished with a really tender kiss and traced my rubber pussy with one hand.

"Beloved, I’m confused," I admitted, "one part of me, a tiny part wants to be and remain Barry, another says that I want to be a real woman, not just a man disguised as one. I’ve discussed it with Edith and she tells me it can be done using a new technique which will give me a fanny with everything working except a womb and even that may be possible, but it is a one way trip and once I do it I can never be Barry again."

"Come with me," she said, drawing me out of bed and leading me to a mirror, pointing to my naked reflection, she asked, "Do you like what you see there?"

I nodded, silently contemplating the vision of two naked female bodies reflected there. Another moment of decision crept up and I think in that moment I took the most momentous decision of my life. Turning to her and wrapping my arms around her, I whispered, "Elizabeth my darling, I want to be a woman. Will you help me through this?"

"Of course I will my darling!" she replied, tears of happiness in her eyes as she returned the embrace and kissed me longingly.

In the morning I rang Edith and booked my appointments.

The first appointment was an assessment. I passed, the panel of three doctors all agreed that I was in all except physiognomy, female. "Congratulations," beamed Edith when it was over, "Now we can proceed." True to her word the treatment began immediately. Courses of injections and pills were followed by minor adjustments by plastic surgery to my larynx and face adjusting my jaw-line and voice timbre. When it was finished the changes made a remarkable difference to my confidence as well.

Soon it became noticeable that my bust was getting bigger and the forms I had been using had to be replaced by smaller ones which would allow my own breasts to develop naturally. Quite early on my testicles were removed to allow the female hormones free play in my system. By the time it came to the big day, the ultimate moment of decision, I was female in every but one respect. The operation took a long time, and the recovery period was long and painful. The day the stitches came out was one I will remember forever! It was not a pretty sight and it was certainly not pleasant, but it told me one very important thing, what I had down there now was certainly not deficient in the sensations and sensitivity field!

Edith was overjoyed. She kept assuring me that everything was as it should be and that it would heal within days now the stitches were gone. One thing I had not been told and which surprised me when it was done the first time, was that I had to keep an inflatable dildo inside me for several hours each day to stretch and settle my newly built vagina! After the first time when I was shown how and what to do, I found that I actually liked the feeling of this thing stretching my new pussy and accidentally discovered the sensations which could be got from my newly created clitoris and labia!

"Well my dear," smiled Edith at me as I dressed after my final examination, "how do you feel about yourself?"

"Edith," I began, "I can’t even begin to put it into words. It is so much better and more real than I ever imagined it could be. I thought it would be just a ‘look a like’, you know not a real honest to goodness fanny all wired up and everything!"

She laughed, "I told you it was a new technique! Yes, everything is, as you put it so succinctly, all wired up! In fact you are to all intents and purposes, now a woman, but without ovaries. We haven’t been able to find a way to that yet! Still you have everything else you need to keep yourself and Elizabeth very happy indeed."

"I can’t thank you enough!" I said a little weepily, "You have all been so unbelievably helpful, kind and gentle. I love you all," I sobbed, embracing her.

"If all my patients were as beautiful and as co-operative as you my dear, I could do so much more for them. Never mind," she held me at arms length and smiled, "now, stop the weeping, your make-up will be ruined and Elizabeth will think I have hurt you! Don’t forget to exercise yourself daily with the pump and use the creams on your face, breasts and hands as directed so we can eradicate all the male hormone induced tissue as quickly as possible." She grinned, and added mischievously, "Elizabeth is going to have to lock you away and keep you chained to her bed in a chastity belt! Every damned man on the planet and not a few women are going to be lusting after you as soon as the clap eyes on you! Get off to her now before I forget myself and ravage you myself."

With a laugh of delight I took her compliment and almost floated out of her office into the waiting room where Elizabeth rose to meet me. I felt all eyes upon me as
I stepped to meet her in my new outfit of short skirt, tights, calf length boots, roll-neck top and jacket of light wool. I felt a million dollars as I walked to meet her love shining in each other’s eyes, as, oblivious of the waiting rooms other occupants we kissed and, joining hands, left to start our new life together.

One more moment of decision awaited me. It passed swiftly as I emptied my closet and drawers of every item of male clothing, bagged it and took it to the recycle shop, leaving it with the surprised attendant. As I walked back to the car, I reflected that I had never been happier in my life and realised that I had absolutely no regrets. If I had it to do again, I would take the same decisions each step of the way.

 

© 2001

Patricia Pendragon

 

© 2001
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