The Neighbors                                   by: Rachel Ann Cooper                   © 1997

 

My name is George Brent and Marla and I had met in college although we never had dated. It wasn't that I wasn't attracted to her. I was, but she seemed a little tall for me. See, I'm only 5'7" and she is 5'6" and we're within eight pounds of one another. I'm slight and non muscular. It was too even a match.

However, she was offered a good job in auditing at Conner Corporation and grabbed it up while I lingered trying to find something better. There WAS nothing better. It turned out that she and I had both majored in 'business' in high school and I found that knowing typing and shorthand really came in handy in college although I just drifted through and ended up with a sociology major, not very useful in our town, as I was to find out. I'm afraid I wasn’t too street wise in choosing that as a major.

I ran into her in a store one night about six weeks after graduation and told her I was still living at home and looking and she told me Conner was still hiring. I thanked her and went down and applied. The only thing that payed decent wages was an executive secretary job for a Vice President. Well, Walcha ya gonna do? I applied, tested and passed and they assigned me to Mr. Tucker, a rather nice looking guy about 6 feet tall, in his mid forties with a wife and three kids. I figured the upside was that this could lead to a good executive assistant job and maybe more. You have to start somewhere and even though secretaries are usually gals, there are a lot of male nurses now.

It was really a good thing I had kept up my skills as Mr. Tucker was rather demanding. It didn't take me long to figure out that he would have much preferred someone more 'decorative' in his outer office, but I figured he'd get used to it eventually. I had to earn my stripes. It seemed like he would welcome a good looking female replacement and I had to stay on my toes, not that I wasn’t good looking but definitely the wrong gender. I could see how he ogled the pretty girls and I sympathized somewhat as a fellow male. Well, I reasoned, I'd just have to be better than they were at their jobs and that dedication paid off as far as not giving him any excuses to fire me at least.

Marla and I would see each other around the building and deepened our friendship over the ensuing weeks and that led to dating and that led to marriage a few months later. She seemed to be just what I needed, a take charge girl who knew her own mind and didn't mind making mine up for me. Marla really knew her mind, knew what she wanted and had her eyes on busting the glass ceiling too. It was a small wedding and we didn't get too fancy about it with just our immediate families attending. Since I had been living at home, I moved into her apartment.

It was nice but not quite as feminine as I would have liked or imagined when first meeting her. She dressed very femininely for work and had a cute figure that she didn't mind showing off. Our wedding night was a little disappointing though. She dressed very sexily for me but including foreplay, I'll bet I didn't last 10 minutes. She encouraged me and told me not to let it bother me, but it did. I was a virgin and very inexperienced. Dumb, huh?

We wanted more room and began looking for a house to rent but all we could come up with in our price range was a duplex on the order of a two story town house. It had some yard and enough out back for a nice above ground pool and a garage. We got a little help from some people from work and moved in. Then we met our new neighbors, Charlene and Gwen. they seemed nice and Marla got tight with them quickly and they began inviting us over for board and card games, which we both liked. How could I refuse to hang out with three good looking women?

Besides, Charlene was very easy to look at, about my size and very feminine and attractive. Not that I would stray. Marla was more than I could handle anyway but one looks, you know? We do admire beauty. Gwen seemed to rule the roost in their house as did Marla in ours. I'm easy! Whatever she wants is OK with me, even some of the kinky stuff she thought up to make our sex life a little more exciting. After all, she DID have a better job and made more money so it seemed only fair. It was a turnabout situation but I didn't mind. She SHOULD have more say I thought.

So I was a bit on the submissive side. So what? So I helped her with the laundry and the ironing and even washed out her hose and lingerie when she asked me to although she made me keep my nails snag free and nicely manicured. I really didn't mind helping. I mean, we both had to earn a living so sharing the chores seemed equitable. Marla liked to knit and crochet too. She'd make all sorts of neat stuff and got me interested. So, one night my curiosity got the better of me and she began teaching me. I learned. I liked it. It relaxed me. So sue me for doing something typically feminine. Who's to know besides Marla anyway?

The paycheck part bothered me more than I knew though and so did Mr. Tucker's attitude. After several weeks, I could feel myself slipping into a depression with fitful sleep and a loss of energy. One night our friend Gwen noticed and mentioned it. "George, you seem a little pooped and perturbed. Something bothering you? Are you OK?" "No, not really," I admitted, and I explained my situation at work, not the least of which was Mr. Tucker's preference for a pretty, female secretary, leaving out everything else. "Honey, said Gwen, I think we might be able to help. Charlene has to take stuff to keep her energized and her head on straight. Maybe it will help you too."

"Whatever, Gwen. I'm ready to try just about anything at this point. I like the job and would like to keep it. I just know it could lead to better things." "OK. Come up to the bathroom with me. We'll be back girls," she said, and we went upstairs. Gwen got out a vial and a syringe and told me to drop them and I did. "What IS this stuff?" "Some B-12 and other stuff that will be good for you." "Oh, good. I've heard about B-12. Thanks." And then she hit me in the bottom with it. She gives good shots. "Now, if you want this stuff to work, you have to stick with it, so just make sure you come over every Friday for a while and we'll see if we can't make you a little peppier and well adjusted to your job." I had no idea how well adjusted I was to become. "I'm all for that," I said, and we returned to our game. I explained to Marla after we got home and she thought it was a good idea saying, "well, Charlene sure looks healthy enough. Stick with it, OK? It sounds like a good idea." "Yes dear. Whatever you say."

The next week: "Hi guys" said Gwen as we entered for another round of card playing. "Tonight the game is strip poker." "Oh REALLY" I asked rather enthusiastically, my lecherous male side coming to the fore? Marla and I play sometimes but...OK. Any special rules?" "Glad you asked that George. Yes. When you lose your clothing, if you win a hand, you have to put on something from the pile that is NOT your own and the person who is the most complete in someone else’s clothing is the winner when we quit."

"You mean if I'm down to my briefs and I lose, my option is panties?" "You catch on quick kid." "I can't win back my own?" "Nope!" "So, if I win back socks and shoes. I have to put on hose and someone else’s instead of my shoes and so forth? OK. Why not. I'm out gunned but I feel lucky tonight." Well, between the three of them, I lost five hands in a row and was down to my briefs already. They apparently had me right where they wanted me. One more and I would be in a pair of their sexiest panties. That took only two more hands. If I kept losing the worst it would get would be panties. However, if I hit a winning streak...!

Four more and I was in panties, knee highs, flats and Chic jeans. Charlene and I seemed to be about the same size and she was winning into mine also. Did I want to win or not? What a wild game. If I won, did I lose? The girls didn't seem to be making as much fun of me as I had expected and I wondered why. I had to take a bra next and they stuffed it with wash cloths. I lost my heels and won them back and then they got the idea I should play hostess in my lingerie, so I did it with as good nature as I could. I did get to see Charlene's boobs as she changed into my Tee shirt. Nice! But, as it was getting late, the next hand I won became her dress with no slip and I was declared the winner. The girls seemed not to care what I saw. Very uninhibited I mused.

We played it afterward for the next month with varying results. If was different. I'll say that for it and I was beginning to get used to the sensual clothes. I began to actually miss a dress and the more I was in lingerie at home, I began to envy my co-workers. Poor Mr.T. I was starting to understand his viewpoint. Men's mode of dressing, as well as their bodies, was not nearly so attractive or decorative.

After the first night of this crazy strip poker, we began to play it regularly, whether at home or their place, and the frequency was between two and three nights a week. They had started in the usual, you know, jeans, Tee shirts and sneakers? Then they all went to slacks with blouses and flats or sandals. I smelled a conspiracy here but what could I do? I was, I'm afraid, becoming well acquainted with girl's clothing. It certainly felt nicer than men's. As I became more accustomed to it, I no longer looked at 'winning' as 'losing'. The clothes even made me feel a little cute and then they began sending (or leaving) me home in my winnings, to be returned the next time we played, telling me I was free to wear them if I liked. Well, I was a little embarrassed about that idea and especially because I was secretly liking it a bit more than I should have.

The next thing I knew it became dresses with hose and heels. "Did you guys set me up here? Have you been talking to Marla? You're all decked out in dresses, hose and heels." "Maybe we did. So what?" "You are all strange." "We're all wearing our finest darling, just for you." "Gee, thanks. You're so considerate," I said wryly. On the nights we had to ourselves for chores and loving, Marla began insisting we play our little lingerie game or else had me dress in my previous winnings, to which I soon became accustomed, and that, of course, led me to a further appreciation of sexy lingerie and heels in which, with her coaching, I became proficient to the extent of developing a decidedly sexy walk and Marla would squeal with delight. She told me I had nice legs and had 'potential', whatever that meant. She loved to see me wiggle my tush as I walked into the kitchen.

Quite suddenly, it appeared to me, that after playing this for only a month after beginning my shots, that they were also letting me win and so, sometimes I would spend most of the evening from early on in a pretty dress lingerie and heels. I was minding less and less and it worried me because I was really beginning to like it. With the combination of my winnings, coming home in them and our lingerie game, it was no time until I was in girl's clothing most of the time when not at work to the extent that work became my male clothing's only outing except shopping and yard work. Marla seemed OK with it and so I decided to enjoy it too. Funny, I had never entertained the idea of wearing women’s clothing before we moved but now...it began to feel, I don’t know...nice!

On the night that I began getting my pep shots, Gwen decided I'd look cuter with my 'winnings' with a little different hair style and Marla went along as she pulled down some hair from the front, parting the rest down the middle from the crown, and artfully cut me a nice, brow brushing set of bangs explaining that I could mousse them back. She was right. My winnings did look better in a more feminine hair style. Big deal.

But Marla had long ago forbidden me to cut my hair and it was growing an inch a month. It was almost shoulder length now and I had to keep it in a pony tail at work, wondering why Mr. T even tolerated it at all. The bangs got trimmed but nothing else did except my split ends and I was carrying a lush, thick, longer head of shiny blond hair, more than anyone at work realized. She wanted me to wear it with the bangs at home too. Marla would trim it just enough to care for any split ends. After it had reached my shoulders and beginning to run down my back and beginning to be very thick and full, I was a big winner one night and they took some Polaroids of me all dolled up in Charlene's party frock with 4" spikes and my hair down. I must admit, at least 'she' wasn't exactly a dog, even without makeup. Whatever made me think about makeup? The girls were very complimentary too. I guess I was rather cute.

A week or so after I began the shots, Marla began stepping up the frequency of our little lingerie games. She got me my own fully padded bra, a B cup, and more often than not it was both of us playing sex kittens in our sexy lingerie and heels. One night she added something very slinky to the mix, she called it a chemise and as I ran my hands over my slick body and saw all that lace, a chill went through me. Again, not a BAD thing, just more exciting although a forbidden, foreign feeling. She had gotten us both one from Frederick's of Hollywood in blue and red. I liked the red one with the black lace, a little too much I thought.

I'd never had anything on so slinky and sexy even in my winnings. Even prancing around in spikes didn't get me off like that feeling and look, especially when I wore it OVER my bra and satin panties. Well sure enough I DID begin to feel peppier from those shots after some initial queasiness, but after about 4 or 5 weeks, my chest was a little sore and I mentioned it to Gwen. "Oh, you'll get over that part eventually," she said. It doesn't last forever."

Well maybe not, but it didn't let up at all either and just got more annoying and after a couple months I noticed my areola were changing size and color. They were larger, softer and much more sensitive and the nipples, once just little bumps, were growing too. It felt like I had some lumps under there too and my nipples wanted to stand up and say "howdy" all the time. I was also putting on a little weight in my bottom and it seemed like all of my skin was softer and more sensitive. My slacks were tighter through the hips and sleeping on my tummy was causing me some discomfort in my chest.

Of course it was easy to rationalize this due to my sedentary job. If you sit in a chair all day, you tend to expand to fit the existing space. Plain and simple physics. However, Marla had no sympathy about my expansions and said since the shots had made me feel better that she wanted me to keep taking them, and so I did and my chest and butt kept growing. They were really growing quite noticeably now , a fact that did not escape Marla's attentions in bed. Boy, she could make me hot playing with my chest now, especially when I was on top and ‘they’ hung down a bit pendulously like hers, teasing me with her teeth and tongue and long finger nails, just like I did her, and it wasn't long before she told me she liked me in the chemise so much that she wanted me to wear it as a nightie.

"Are you sure Marla? It's awfully feminine and sexy and I'm afraid it turns me on too. Are you sure you want to see your husband in something like this?" "Trust me doll, I'm sure. You're so cute in it. Please? It really turns me on too and I love to tease your nice big nipples through it. They're beginning to respond like mine. I just love lingerie on you, you little sexpot." I said, "honey, if you're not careful, I may start actually WANTING to wear one all the time along with other girly clothes. I never realized it, but it's pretty exciting stuff to wear and I’m afraid I’m really beginning to enjoy it aside from our little games."

Her amazing response to THAT was, "go ahead. You already spend a lot of time in them anyway. Enjoy yourself honey. You don't have to wait for me to dress you up and you're really getting the hang of walking in spikes. That's a nice, sexy walk on you now even in flats. It makes me hot just watching you. I just love that cute wiggle of yours." "Whatever my lady wishes," I replied. "I do kind of like wearing Charlene's stuff. Do I look OK in it?"

"Yes honey, rather appealing all dolled up. You should let me get you into a little makeup sometime when we play and you're winning." "OK, maybe," I was surprised to hear myself say. Well, after all, she DID say please...although I feared my 'maybe' was tantamount to a definite 'yes' and I admit I was becoming curious to see what I might look like as a girl! I must say, at this point, I was not all that opposed to the idea and readily agreed. She loved running her hands over me in the chemise and fondling my new growths more than my original one now. I believe I enjoyed it more too and the nature and intensity of my climaxes had changed noticeably for the better and before I knew what hit me, she had offered, and I had accepted a lovely nightie to sleep in. What was going ON with me anyway? I just loved the feeling of clingy nylon next to me now.

Marla spent more time with Charlene and Gwen than I did and unbeknown to me until much later, they had the following conversation, related to me by Marla after the fact: "Gwen, that stuff you're giving Georgie. I think it's making him grow titties and they sure are a lot of fun. What is really in that?" "Well Marla, before I answer that I want to ask you something." "OK." "Why did you marry Georgie?" "That's a funny question. Alright, because he is the sweetest, kindest, gentlest, most caring male soul I've ever met and those are the qualities I was looking for in a mate. He's also extremely affectionate, sweet and helpful with the girl work although our sex life wasn't worth talking about until recently, if you must know. Why?" "What's it is, Marla, is something that's been lying around a while. It has B-12, Estradiol and Spironolactone in it and he IS growing breasts Marla, and a tush to go with them. He is acquiring the mind and body of a woman. Before you say anything, just listen. Look at the situation. He is in a job where the boss wishes he were a girl. He likes the job and has admitted he wants to keep it, a girl's job. He helps you with all your girl chores and he knits and crochets and wears lingerie around the house. He's within normal sizes for a girl as evidenced by fitting into Charlene's so well."

"He loves you and you are the boss in your home and face it girl, he is extremely cute, or has the potential to be, and I do NOT mean that in a masculine sense. With some adjustments, he could be a major fox and you could have a really lovely set of spare boobies to play with. How bad could it be if Mr. Tucker got his wish and had a beautiful secretary? We'll stop this if you want but we're just trying to help. It worked for Charlene."

"IT WHAT?? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING GWEN?" "Something wrong with your hearing all of a sudden doll? Charlene is my HUSBAND, or used to be, and we are more in love than ever and you see how well it worked out. She's beautiful inside and out and I love her to pieces. And you never even suspected, so we can do the same FOR Georgie or TO him if you'd rather enjoy the naughtiness of turning him into a real girl with his back turned." "Get me a glass of water, please." (sipping) "You mean that if he continues these so called B-12 shots, Georgie is going to end up like Charlene if he keeps this up, a beautiful, feminine GIRL?"

"Yeppers. It's an unavoidable reaction to the shots. He's already become comfortable with the clothing. You guys got any money stashed?" "Well yes. I have a five figure trust fund with a couple years worth of principal and income in it. Why?" "Are you going to go along with the rest of his complete feminization and let him rise to the top in his chosen profession?"

"I haven't told you but I DO like to spice things up with games at home and I have gotten him into my lingerie and heels a few times and he wears a nightie or a chemise to sleep in now. But Charlene is so pretty. How...?" "Simple. Plastic. After I had her about as far along as Georgie is now, with a good start on a bosom, she went in and had some critical work done by a gender specialist."

" And NO, I didn't get her consent to change her into a woman first either. I just knew that Bill's sweet disposition belonged in a prettier package, so I re-packaged it. It was fairly painless for him. The surgeon fine tuned her face and body to the point that even in old age she'll never be mistaken for a male again and I love having such a pretty husband and companion. Wouldn't you?"

"It sure is tempting Gwen and also delightfully kinky. He was never very macho anyway. I like it! (thinking...) Alright, I'm in, but how am I going to get him to go for surgery at this point?" "He's not perfect is he?" "Of course not." "Well, just tell him you'd like to give him a present, which is essentially true, and take him to our doctor. I'll give you a letter of introduction and tell him what Georgie might benefit from and to cool it during the evaluation. However, when he gets him in surgery, all the work he needs to beautify him will be done at once and he will be a much lovelier person after the bandages come off. Dr. Compton does VERY good work, as you see, and 'she' may turn out very striking." " Actually, the only bandage will probably be ‘her’ nose."

"Alright. He'll do anything I want as he is such a sweetie, so I'll sort of put it to him that I really want him to go in for a nose job and an eye lift for the sake of his career." At about 10 or 12 weeks (I've lost track), I had to remove the padding from my playtime bra which was a real revelation. It was only an A cup but where did it come from, this new, sensual chubbiness? Playtime fantasies are ONE thing, but these were real. These were filling the bra to overflowing. I've got breasts and Marla's having a ball with them too, I thought. With the removal of my padding, Marla really got into my dressing up at home and she did get me into a complete outfit on a fairly regular basis, complete with makeup. 'Well' I thought, not exactly a beauty queen but Marla seems to like the effect on me, a little double entendre."

My nose was too big though and it had a little hump in it that didn't belong on someone who dressed like this. And my Adams apple spoiled the look too. Oh well. It's only a game although we are playing it a lot lately. I was actually beginning to get comfortable with the idea of dressing in hose, heels and dresses. That took a little of the excitement of doing the forbidden out of it for me but not for Marla it appeared. She praised my efforts and mastering of "the walk." It never failed to turn her on. She couldn't get enough and then she couldn't wait to get my bra off and down to business but business had gotten a little, how shall I put this, girlish as opposed to ‘normal’.

I had been a virgin, very inexperienced and inept as a lover, but now I knew how to please Marla and she was bringing me pleasures I never knew I could experience as a man. Considering my state of mind and dress, perhaps I was NOT experiencing them as a man!!! She had always been able to have multiple orgasms, one of the advantages of being female, while I at first, was spent in no time. Now, however, I too was beginning to hold out longer and although my discharge was less thick and sticky and lower in volume, I too was beginning to experience this. Sometimes our loving didn't even include me taking off my panties but the intensity was wonderful. How very strange, I thought.

Could it be that this staying power just comes with practice? I'd never 'been a man' before Marla, so I had no knowledge, and men just don't talk about these things. Marla was now having a ball exciting me with yes, I suppose, my every enlarging breasts like I did for her. Well, whatever floats your boat, as they say. The pockets of my nighties were filling and I was beyond complaining. My mind, I’m afraid, had snapped.

And now we pick up where we left off: So Marla came home from that conversation and revelation about Charlene, which I would not find out about until AFTER my own operations, and told me she wanted to try and ease Mr. Tucker's pain a little, you know, make me a little less offensive, less mannish. Well, I WAS a secretary, after all, and the other secretaries didn't include me in their circle because I was male and that made me feel rather like an orphan. Maybe a little less mannish would get me some friends and besides, just look what was happening to my body! What the heck. I didn't know what she meant by a little less mannish exactly, but a LITTLE couldn't hurt I reasoned. Gender is flexible after all with all shades of grey including the usual black and white.

When we saw the doctor, he suggested a nose job and eye lift (imagine THAT!) and I said OK and it was scheduled for two weeks later. He used a computer to image what I’d look like. Not bad! I had no idea a little minor surgery could make a person ache all over.

My knees were sore. My thighs were sore and puffy and so were my hips. My chest seemed to protrude more too even though I had figured out that I was growing real breasts, and I found tiny stitches in those places. The stitches in my eyes were in the creases but it looked like I had little ones out further too. My chin and cheeks looked different. My lips were swollen and the swelling didn't go down and I looked like I had Michelle Pfieffer's lips. Too sexy and pouty for a man I'd say. I had some tiny stitches in my Adam's apple which, by the way, had disappeared overnight.

Even the timbre of my voice seemed different and somehow less masculine and I was a tenor to begin with. I was a mess. The stitches that weren't gut came out in a few days but my nose and under my eyes were discolored for a couple weeks so Marla had me learn how to put a little special cover up makeup on to hide it. I learned how to blend it really well in a couple days and then cover it with a little powder. Boy, did I look different. Not BAD, just different but definitely not the he-man my daddy wanted.

I mean, I was still me but I was now definitely more decorative. Maybe even cute, probably the picture of what my sister would have looked like had I had one...I WOULD be cute if I dressed differently, you know, more like my friend Lori did at work; like Marla had encouraged me to do at home? If I had a sister, I think she would have looked like I did now. Marla couldn't stop raving about my new look and how I looked so much nicer in my girl style clothing. I could only describe my new nose as "pert", a cute little thing that in profile looked like it would be much more comfortable on a girl than a boy anyway.

We were watching a Wesley Snipes movie one night and I couldn't believe how much like his co-star I looked. His co-star was Lolita Davidovich, a very attractive girl who was downright strikingly beautiful all made up but otherwise just a little above average. Makeup does make a difference. I made that notation to Marla. "You know honey, I think you're right. You could almost be her twin sister." Now THERE was a confirmation I wasn't ready for! Then she got that 'let's have some fun and play' look. Well, we did that a lot anyway. I loved it when she'd get all dolled up in hose and heels and garter belt and bra and prance around the house with no dress or just a filmy neglige over it. She got me into that outfit a lot lately too.

Like I said, she was a little kinky. Aside from my bra size, a full B cup, Marla and I could now share a lot of clothes and Charlene had offered some too. I showered and put on my nylon robe and sat down for my makeup lesson. Marla then proceeded to explain everything she could about makeup theory, what shading was all about, color co-ordination with your outfit and all that good stuff. After giving me a good creaming, she applied all the goodies in proper order, explaining the what and why of everything.

"Come on Georgie. I want to see something." She did it again. She dolled me up in lingerie and heels as well as herself, and then sat me down and made me up completely like a girl, with foundation, plucked my brows, lined my eyes and put shadow on me and some blusher and lipstick. I had a little bulge in my spandex panties over it all. I always got a little excited when she did this to me although I didn't know why and felt a throbbing going on down there. It was just playing, after all but it was a good thing I had a panty liner on.

Except now I had a bosom that almost filled the bra, a too small waist and other very unconventional things going on with me. Then she went to her closet and got out a long reddish wig like Lolita's hair in the movie, placing it carefully on my head after twisting up my own and pinning it to the top of my head. My hair was long but not THAT long---yet. "Alright Lolita, go look. I arose as gracefully as I could in spikes with my feet together and walked over to the mirror swinging my hips seductively as usual with my thighs rubbing together. I hadn’t noticed that before. I DID enjoy getting into the part as long as we were playing 'dress up.'

"Oh my GAWD Marla. I AM Lolita. What happened to George? What did that doctor do to me? And just look how much bosom I have and my HIPS! I'll never be able to go the beach again as a man-EVER!" I took inventory then of every detail of all the places that had hurt after the operation. My knees were smooth and full as were my thighs and I pulled up my skirt to look. The empty space was gone from between them. They rubbed together when I walked now. My waist was absolutely fat free while my hips looked like they could bear children.

And the face. I was beautiful with makeup. Just the facts. I'm really not that stuck on myself. And my breasts. I'd figured out that I was growing a set for sure and they WERE a lot of fun, but now I filled a pushup C cup to capacity and it was all me except the little pads at the bottom. "Now can we finish dressing you sweetie?" "Finish? What’s left to finish? No one would believe I’m a male including me." " You know, jewelry??"

"Marla, how can I go to work like this. I'm a man or at least a male." "Well, maybe you can't go like that just yet but are you still a man in gender honey? Wouldn't Mr. Tucker much rather have YOU in his office than Georgie, LOLITA?" "You are one kinky broad Marla. Well, if I can look this good in a dress, why not?" And so she put me into a full slip and a fancier pretty nylon dress with a paneled A line skirt that accentuated my now very small waist and added flair to my hips as well as revealing some sexy cleavage. I really WAS Lolita but I didn't much care for that name. She is one sexy lady and help me Hanna, I felt sexy too, very girlish and very sexy.

"Now what?" "Now we go over and play cards as usual." "You have GOT to be kidding. I can't go over there like this. What will they say?" "That you're a knockout, what else? Truth is truth." "Even though you taught me to walk in heels, I'll kill myself going up and down the stairs in these 4" spikes." "Don't be silly darling. Just hold on to he rail and take your time. All you need is practice and you'll be able to do it without the rail or looking at the stairs. You'll learn to sort of balance and drop onto the next stair just like we all do."

"But if we're going to play this game, I don't even know how to really act feminine. I'll feel foolish." "Not after we get there you won't. Besides, you already do act a little feminine." One of the things that initially bothered me after my surgery was the sites of my various swellings. Except for my nose, they did not recede. I still had Michelle's lips and the shape of my face was different with more prominent cheeks and more pointed chin. I was very 'round' and smooth and curvy all of a sudden.

And the doctor had given me three prescriptions all intended to accentuate my new additions and block my boy hormones. I wasn't too keen on that when I got them and he really didn't explain them much but now, after seeing myself like this, well, it didn't sound that bad. Although I did express some fears to Marla. All she would say was that I may as well get used to being more decorative. " Besides, said Marla, in another six months, you'll be incapable of acting masculine anyway. Your girl hormones will take you over completely. The doctor gave us those special prescriptions for you and you begin on pills AND shots now."

"It sounds very much like you are bent on turning me into a real girl Marla." "Isn't that what Mr. Tucker wants?" "Well, of course, but I never thought it possible that I'D be fulfilling his desires. And what about what YOU want." "Just look at you. He's going to fall in love and leave his wife if you aren't careful. You have another little surprise in store. Come on. What do you want me to call you?" "Certainly NOT Georgie or Lolita. How about something super feminine like Vanessa?" "Alright. Vanessa you are, and you certainly ARE aren't you?" "It would appear so. I thought this was just a nose job and eye lift and the dressing up was just a game."

"Well, it WAS, along with just a few other improvements we thought you'd like." "WE?" "Yes, we. Shake it girly." I was used to just going along and so I went, albeit with butterflies in my stomach at the thought of our friends seeing me like this, a clone of a movie star, a lovely, sexy female movie star. Gwen answered the door. "Well, HELLO girls. At the front door, " Marla, who is your friend?" "This is Vanessa. Vanessa, I'd like you to meet Gwen and her husband Charlene. I paled at once despite my blush at being introduced as Vanessa for the first time and hearing the words 'HUSBAND, CHARLENE!'. Both of them had pretty dresses and heels on and Charlene was standing behind Gwen. I shook her hand, her soft, feminine, small, well manicured hand. I had seen her body. She was undeniably female...everywhere! She responded with, "Hi Vanessa. How does it feel to be beautiful?" "May I sit down please?" "Of course. Here, have a glass of soda. You look a little flushed." "Am I EVER! Would you girls care to enlighten me? Who? How? Why? And how did you get ME into the same predicament without my knowledge?"

"It's not a predicament Vanessa. And it was WITH your knowledge and consent. I told you it was B-12 and some other stuff that was good for you and it HAS been good for you and you said OK. It's an opportunity to be everything that you need to be for success in your job. The things that Marla loves about you are all feminine attributes of your psyche, in case you didn't know, so why not be that beautiful girl if you can? (It was at this point that it was revealed to me who Charlene really was, used to be in detail, you know what I mean)."

" I brought Charlene out for much the same reasons. It took me a little longer to develop her initial feminine body because I had to just use the pills but once she began to turn female, she found out she liked it. So will you. You'll see. It grows on you." "Yeah, like in my bra! (giggle)" "Yes, like in your bra. Is that all you now?" "Very close. He pumped me up with my own fat, didn't he?" "Uh huh. You're still growing. Do you like them?" "Under the circumstances, yes, I LOVE them and apparently, so does Marla judging by how much she enjoys playing with them." "VANESSA! You aren't supposed to tell all our secrets." "Bunk! Girls tell everything to each other. You think I don't know that by now? I'll bet you all know who and when your periods come and how big Georgie's little tool is and how often he and Marla used to have sex. Tell me I'm wrong!" Silence.

"Just as I thought." "Well Charlene, how do YOU feel about being snookered into a dress and a girl's body?" "I was a little shocked at first when I began to change, not knowing why and all, to feel and look different with my tits and butt growing, but like you, I enjoyed the new sensations of having such wonderfully sensitive breasts and as I slowly changed mentally, Gwen just quite naturally became the real husband. She enticed me into a nightie and we enjoyed that for a couple weeks until she decided that a peignoir and high heeled marabou slippers would look nice on me and I was unable to resist and really didn't want to, and I learned to walk in heels and found I loved them too. They ARE a defining female man catcher.

I've never known a man who didn't enjoy a pretty woman's walk in high heels. They do wonders for your legs. I was really afraid I was turning into a little fairy princess since I was still trying to be a man, but Gwen was always so sweet and supportive of my emerging femininity that it wasn't an issue after a while and I began to embrace it." "She made me let my hair and nails grow and she gave me a perm and manicures and pedicures that looked so sexy in my slippers. I shaved my legs and pits."

"Then she introduced me to makeup and in a few weeks I was doing my own and then she got me a good corset and made we wear it ALL the time as I was a little thick in the middle. It worked. My waist slimmed down and my hips and bust were pushed down and up respectively, making me look even more girlish. Then I went into electrolysis and the beard was history. Finally, she got me into a complete outfit for the street and from then on, I wore dresses and heels all the time afer work until I was allowed to take the cincher off after my complete transition into womanhood on the table." "Charlene, you couldn't have transitioned on the job, surely. You're much too pretty, even without makeup. How...?"

"You're right. Gwen pulled out ALL the stops with my surgery and I became instantly too female, incapable of looking male even without makeup, with one minor exception. I couldn't go back to work there so Gwen put me through school and now, as you know, I work in an insurance office. I am legally Charlene Allison McKenzie now even though we are still married of sorts and my birth certificate reads 'female'. We have all the rights of married people as what they call 'domestic partners and you can too, she answered."

"How can I put this? Are you...I mean, do you still have...are you really...? Oh, hell, you know what I'm trying to ask." "Yes, I am, for about a year now and I've never regretted it. You would not BELIEVE the things they can do now. I'm so real it's unbelievable. Once in a while, Gwen and I double date. Bill never in his wildest dreams had orgasms like I do now or as much fun in general." "But how...?" "Toys and boys, silly. You have to keep dilated. There are wonderful, exciting toys out there now too. You'll see. You've got a computer. I'll give you the websites. Or haven't you two discussed this?"

"No", piped in Marla. "First things first even though I know little George is going to become totally useless. We have to make her presentable for Mr. Tucker first, just as butch as we can make her while we teach her all about womanhood and her body and mind continue to change. We HAVE discussed the fact that she won't be able to pass as a man in six months so that's our window of opportunity. I will do everything I can to finesse getting him to accept her as she changes. We have no idea how he or anyone else is going to react on Monday morning when they see Vanessa in drag as Georgie but it should be an interesting day, I'll say that. Now, let's play some cards, OK?"

So we four girls and I certainly now had to include myself, played for a couple hours. The need for the strip poker game had ceased and I then realized why it had started in the first place, to accustom me to the feminine. When we left that night, Charlene gave me a big hug, something she had never done with Georgie, and quietly whispered to me, "welcome to the club, sister friend. I hope you enjoy being a girl as much as I do." "Well, it seems I may as well make my mind up to try now, doesn't it?"

I began sleeping in nighties that very night and wore a white chemise under my boyish clothing. I now came under a constant barrage of helpful criticisms about body language, carriage and deportment from all 3 girls. I had no IDEA how powerful those lessons were as I continued to make unconscious adjustments which, I'm afraid, spilled over into the work place. They became second nature. I was truly unaware of whose persona I was projecting. Charlene and I became good friends unlike our previous relationship of just friendliness. I began to love her the way women love each other in a supportive, caring way. I began to knit her a sweater using myself as he dummy.

She shared a great many special insights, tips and tricks with me. As genetic girls, Gwen and Marla never thought of these perhaps or they didn't need to. We shopped together and, before I had the confidence to appear as Vanessa in public, she would model my expanding feminine wardrobe in the stores for me. Our coloring was similar, so it worked nicely. By month 5, I had to buy my own chest of drawers. Georgie's clothing and shoes were being crowded out by mine, Vanessa's. As a result, and with my changing tastes, actions and body, I began wearing some of my blazers and women's slacks to work as well as various colors and styles of ladies loafers, oxfords, moccasins and boots.

We had counted on 8 or 9 months for transition. HAH!! Because my wife and girlfriends couldn't contain their enthusiasm, I got pierced and hooped. I decided that I might as well take the up front approach with my fellow secretaries, all women, on Monday. But, after careful consideration, decided against a full disclosure. My new look couldn't be hidden under a rock until I was fully cooked and I knew it but I didn’t have to blow the whistle on myself just yet.

Lori just stared dumbfounded as I sat down at my desk slowly, legs and feet together, rather than just plopping in the chair as I used to. I think she was trying to make sure it was really me first. Then she came over and quietly asked, Georgie, Is this really YOU? What have you done? Damn, you are so CUTE all of a sudden. The guys are going to be hitting on you!" "Nothing's going on Lori." "Yeah, right."

Lori and I were having lunch a few days later and she said, "Georgie, I wish you could see yourself." "I see myself every morning in the mirror. Whatever do you mean Lori?" "Even the way you are dressed, which by the way they button I recognize as women's wear, you look and act like a woman. I'm sorry but it's true and Candy, Anna and Susan are all crazy to know what's going on but I won't tell them."

"I think Mr.T is too, Lori. Am I really swishing?" "Oh, yeah doll. I don't think you can help it anymore can you?" "No. No wonder Mr. T slipped up yesterday." "How?" "I don't think he even realized it and I wasn't about to call his attention to it." "Well WHAT for heaven's sake? Don't keep me hanging." "Well, he always thanks me when I bring in letters to sign or bring his coffee lately and he said, very absentmindedly, "thank you DEAR! I didn't skip a beat and replied, "You're welcome" and left." "Holy cow!" "Yes, holy cow indeed. I can't wear shirts anymore. There isn't enough room in them, same for men's suits." "So we've noticed. Despite that sports bra you are obviously wearing, you are busting out all over, pun intended. Georgie is really getting hard to see in you honey. And your hair is so pretty too and I see you've gotten earrings. Come ON girl. Who ARE you anyway? I've just got to know."

"Alright Lori, we're friends so I'm just going to lay it on the line. You know how my boss feels about male secretaries. Well, Marla and I decided I'd stand a better chance if I were a pretty girl instead and you are going to see me become female right before your eyes if I don't get fired first. I'm not going to explain this to another soul, so, if it comes back to me, it was your doing and I’ll never forgive you. Now, can you keep my confidence or not?" "Oh honey, I think you are so brave and this is so neat. I'll bet you're going to be gorgeous all cleaned up and with proper makeup. He'll fall all over you or trip on his tongue. Yes, I will be silent. This is terribly juicy but we're friends and I'd like to keep it that way. You have my word."

"Well, if he's beginning to 'dear' me, I suppose there's no harm." "Have you picked a new name yet?" "Yes, but I'm not going to tell you yet. You might slip. I hope you don't mind." "No, I understand and you're right. I probably would. How long is this going to take?" "Well, the way Marla and I figure it, as long as it takes for him to either challenge me and make me confess and give me a chance to show him how decorative I can be or until he fires me. Whichever comes first. I'm binding a very full B cup already thanks to a little pumping and hormones for almost four months and this suit is hiding a very feminine body so I just don't know." "Yes, I don't doubt that, but you surely can't hide that pretty face." "I know. That's the hardest part and thank you. In the meantime I've been told that one of these days Georgie won't be able to pass in mind or body anyway even if I try, and I'll just have to come to work in a dress and heels with full makeup so that's about where it is at the moment. Do you think Mr.T has heard about this? What's the office gossip?"

"Everything you might expect. All they need is confirmation of something and Mr.T isn't stupid either." Thanks for being so honest Lori." "Well, good luck honey." And with that Lori went back to her desk. I just had routine duties until about 10 AM when Mr. Tucker called me in for some dictation. I took my seat and I'm afraid smoothed out the skirt I wasn't wearing as I sat, sitting down knees together and crossing my legs at the knee slowly and gracefully as I was taught. Already I was in trouble and the day was just beginning. My body language was totally feminine now.

I was looking down at my pad waiting. There was a pregnant silence, unusual for him. "Georgie?" "Yes sir?" "Uh...just checking. I thought maybe they put in a temp. You look very...different today." "It's probably just the bandage being off my nose sir." "No Georgie. It's more than that, but you look very nice indeed and I'm surprised to hear myself saying that to another man." "Thank you sir." He proceeded to dictate three letters and I left. After I closed his opaque glass door, I wanted to leap into the air and shout YYEESSSS!!! However, I restrained myself and only did it in my head, albeit with a toothy grin to Lori which she acknowledged with a 'thumbs up'. I had passed the first test. Maybe this would turn out alright after all. Who could tell? The rest of the day proceeded routinely and I left at five with Marla as usual.

"Well?" "He noticed alright and he said I looked VERY NICE! Do you believe it?" "Well honey, you DO. Very sweet. Anything else I should know?" "I told Lori and swore her to secrecy. She promised and I trust her so don't worry. If Mr. Tucker liked me today, he may learn to love me later, don't you think Marla?" "You are just going to be scrumptious my little love muffin. I really wasn't so sure, but I think this is going to be alright after all. Now let's get home and get you out of those nasty neutral things. I'm going to teach you ALL about makeup today."

When I got home, we 3 discussed the situation. I had some decisions to make. We all chewed on it for another two weeks. We gave away all of George's clothing, every stitch. Thus far I had been sailing, as it were, with just the jib up, catching as little wind as possible at work. But, with Lori's revelations, and Mr.T's increasing slips of the tongue and attitude lately, like he would have treated his preferred gender secretary, we finally decided to let the other shoe drop---literally! A week later, almost 6 months into my transition, the size of my hoop earrings increased to a full inch and a half. My hair was attractively and femininely styled and I wore skimmer flats with my women's blazer and slacks and the appropriately sized bra, now a C cup. I wish you could have seen the furtive glances, the smiles (and yes, some frowns from men) that I received during the morning. I pulled the plug and let all of my acquired and hormone driven femininity to emerge. I became completely 'one of the girls' and allowed Lori to tell the tale.

Mr.T noticed. Boy, did he EVER. "Georgie, I think we have to have a little private chat. May I take you to lunch?" "Certainly, Mr.T." Promptly at 1PM he called me on the intercom and we left for a nice quiet, upscale restaurant. Apparently he had reserved a particular table in the corner on his own as I normally would have done that for him. The host pulled out my chair for me and seated me. Mr. T just smiled somewhat wryly as he seated himself. The wine steward came and inquired of me. "Would you care for some wine with lunch MISS?" "No, thank you." He left. Thus far we hadn't said much, certainly nothing of any significance. The ride over was rather quiet. "What will you have, he asked?" "The Dover Sole looks good." The waiter came over and asked me, "What would you care for as your entre MISS?" Mr.T took over and said, "She'll have the Dover Sole and I'd like a T bone, both with house salads, please." "Very good sir." Then it began. "Why do you think you are still my secretary Georgie?" "Because I'm good at it?" "Well yes, you are, but I saw that you had a submissive personality which for me is an absolute necessity in a secretary and important in our relationship. You grew on me despite your being male. And then JUST when I was coming to terms with the fact that you were male, you had surgery. You began dressing differently and I let it slide because when I said you looked very nice, I meant it sincerely. You had moved from ambiguous male to borderline attractive female and over the next couple months, even more so. You began relating to me as a woman although I don't think you realized it. So VANESSA, let's stop this charade, shall we? For whatever reason, you are becoming a woman, perhaps not female but certainly a woman and no, I do not believe rumors. So tell me two things. Is there more than what I'm seeing?"

"Considerably sir." "I see. And, why didn't you wear any makeup today if you were going to present yourself like this?" "Well, I have it with me in my bag but I was just scared I guess. "Well, after lunch, would you please go to the powder room and finish yourself properly please?" "With pleasure Mr.T." "Vanessa, when we're alone, you can call me Jack." "Why, thank you Jack. Now, will you answer one or two for me?" "If I can." "You heard the rumors?" "Yes." "Who eventually spilled the beans?" "Your friend Lori did it because I asked her on your coffee break. You DID give her permission." "Yes, but I just hadn't counted on you actually asking her."

During lunch we chatted about business and a few personal things and I allowed myself to relate to him completely as a woman now. I had no idea Jack could be so charming in a social situation. I kept my promise after lunch. It took me a little while to make a complete job of it. I dotted all the 'eye's and crossed all the t's and Lolita was back full bore. I emerged with a little extra flounce in my step and attitude. He simply stared. I was being ogled by my boss, the letch! I LOVED it! "Vanessa, you are beautiful. I'm amazed." "Me too Jack. Me too." Wow!

During the ride back he said, "Vanessa, I think you are a great secretary and are quite lovely and I don't ever want to see you in pants again. Clear?" "Not a problem Jack." "Are you changing your name legally?" "Yes, to Vanessa Marie." "Alright. I'll tell payroll and send out a memo over the intranet that I now have a female secretary and I demand you be respected. Since you have made this life altering and important decision, I'll tell you that the increase in your responsibilities lately has been to groom you as my Executive assistant. You'll soon be traveling with me and making significant money. I hope that pleases you and Marla."

"Definitely Jack. Thank you very much." "Save the thanks. You'll earn it and, may I add, not on your back. I love my wife but I haven’t gone blind either." As we entered the building and then the offices, he held doors for me and as we entered our section, he escorted me to my desk arm in arm. People noticed that for sure as well as my face and totally feminine demeanor. There was nothing left to hide and Mr.T had just demonstrated for all to see that he now considered me a woman. After he closed his opaque door, Lori came over and gave me a typical female hug. Most of the room sat there and applauded loudly for a good 15 seconds. Then we heard Mr.T on the speakers. "Alright people. Vanessa appreciates your welcome. Now get back to work." Cute.

I had a real tale to tell on the way home and to the other girls when we got there. Their curiosity for every detail was insatiable until I had been fully debriefed. The following day I did as requested and carefully applied my makeup, did my hair and let 'them' loose in a pushup C cup. I wore a nice skirted suit with a blouse that showed my charms and sported dangle earrings and 3" heels. Marla was so happy for me, she had tears in her eyes. My relationship with EVERYBODY got better after that. While first alarmed at my sudden resemblance to Lolita, a lovely movie star and with the body changes, I was now content. Marla took $1,000 out of her account and treated me to a complete makeover and wardrobe for work complete with ‘power’ suits. Very chic. It took us two weeks of haunting the stores and resale shops. Under the care of my new doctor, in 9 months (interesting correlation to the human gestation period, don't you think?). I was indeed fully cooked at 34C-26-36. Marla got me a sex cache, sometimes called a gaff, and my former sex could not be detected even in my new dreamy bikini. Marla and I got some 'toys'. Charlene was right. They ARE fun and I learned all about a new kind of love and affection. I don't think I need to spell that out for you. Use your imagination about double dildos. I was at the doctors for a checkup. He put me in the stirrups again for an in depth exam, pun intended again. "Well Vanessa, you've been working six months as a woman and your prostate is so small, I can barely find it and the rest, well, it's not of much use to you now, is it?" "No, not really." "I'd like to make a little correction while you're here today if it's alright with you, a little snipping job. Relieve you of some of that extra baggage. Would you like that?"

Since I was now incapable of looking, acting or functioning as a male, I responded by signing the form he placed in front of me on the clipboard. Within about 20 minutes, my gaff had extra room in it. After all, I had been chemically castrated long ago, why not the real thing? "Now, young lady, you may want to consider whether you want to pursue this further as you will be living the rest of your life as a girl. In any case I'd suggest you be tested and get an approval from the gender committee just in case so you can get on with a normal life."

"Marla and I will talk about it doctor. That's all I can say right now." "You may want to discuss this with Charlene too." "I already have." Charlene and I did have a revealing and more intimate discussion in earnest on the pros and cons of becoming a complete woman sans reproductive system. She told me how wonderful her conversion was, how well she functioned and how much more pleasurable EVERYTHING was now. She was VERY detailed about it this time and even played 'show and tell' with me. Amazing! Well, girls, I was very impressed, extremely impressed. Marla was the only girl I'd ever seen on such an intimate basis and there was virtually no difference that I could see. When I talked with Marla about it, all she would commit to was that she wanted me to be happy and since it was forever, it had to be my decision. Just in case, I did register with the gender committee. My year of living as a woman was almost a matter of record already. At my second 6 month evaluation at work...well, Jack kept his promise. I'm now his Executive assistant. When the boss isn't there, I'm the boss, and the extra money is nice too, a little more than Marla now. I'm saving the extra money in a special fund. I'm THINKING, alright? A girl has to be careful with these things. I'll let you know how it goes when my full year is up.

The end.

 

© 1997
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