The Pink Light

by Jennifer White

  

The throbbing pulse of the music on the dance floor was intoxicating. The crowd swayed to the beat as one, everybody so close that you could feel and smell each other. The woman in the hot red dress bumped her rear up against me for the third time. Now I knew it wasn't an accident.

I looked at her face, flashing in the strobe light. Even through the partial darkness, her eyes were striking, cutting right through me to my soul. Her long hair, her cleavage, her long legs...they all paled compared to her eyes.

She gave me a flirtatious smile, and started to walk towards the exit. I eagerly followed her. It was the worst mistake of my life. Or the best thing to ever happen to me, depending on how you look at it.

She walked down the street, then turned into an alley. I followed her. She stood there, and waved a finger to me, calling me over to her. The dim light of the moon illuminated the bright red polish on her fingernails. I walked over.

Suddenly, an unseen person jumped out from behind me, and put a rag over my face. As I breathed in, a very unpleasant odor filled my nose, and I immediately felt week and wobbly. I had to sit down. Everything was spinning now, going black...

* * *

 

I awoke in what appeared to be a hospital, based on the medical equipment set up all around the table I was on. I tried to sit up, but noticed that I was stuck. My arms were held down by steel bands at the wrist and just above the elbow. Likewise, my legs were clamped in place. I tried to sit up again, and noticed that a steel band was also keeping my head from moving. What the hell was going on?

I heard footsteps, then the hum of an electric motor, as the bed I was strapped to moved, to a position where I was sitting up. I could see my body, and see that I was completely naked. Tubes ran from various machines into several places in my body, including the vein in my arm, and one going into my belly button.

I glanced up, and saw *her*, the siren that had lured me here.

"What the hell is going on!" I demanded. "Where am I! What are you doing to me!"

She smiled, and held up a syringe full of a clear liquid. She removed the cap, showing the tip of the needle. She tapped it a few times to get out any air bubbles, and pushed it just a bit, so that a drop of fluid formed on the very top of the needle. She held it in front of her face, her mouth upturned slightly in an evil smile.

Wordlessly, she plunged the needle into my arm, and emptied it's contents into me. It burned at first, but that feeling soon went away. She put the cap back on the needle, then put it into the medical waste bin.

"Don't worry" she finally said, the first words she had actually ever spoken to me. "Don't worry if you find that you cannot move anymore. The paralysis is only temporary, and the numbness in your body. Only your brain is still working. Everything else is shutting down for a while.

"Why?" I tried to say, but it was like lifting a million pounds to even move my mouth. My lips froze, slightly ajar, and I could not get *anything* to respond anymore. Except for my eyes, I was completely stuck, my body not responding to my commands.

The lady pulled over a device, and pushed some buttons on it. It had something like a wand coming from it, and she pulled it up to me. She pointed it at my leg, and I could see a round spot of red where it was aimed.

She moved it around skillfully, and soon I realized what she was doing. She was using a laser to remove my hair! She did my legs, then my chest, my armpits, and my face.

"Body hair is so ugly" she said. She hummed as she worked, it and must have been hours before she was done. Next, she maneuvered the pole on wheels with the bag of saline solution dripping into me, so that I could see what she was doing. She pulled a lever, and a smaller bag started emptying into me too.

I wanted to know what it was, but there was no way I could ask. She smiled, and continued to hum as she put away the laser machine.

Next, she brought another machine, and attached it to the two tubes coming out from my bellybutton. She hit a button, and my head was moved so that it was staring down at my legs and chest.

"Saline is the safest for filling implant bags," she said, but silicon get gives the best look."

With that, I felt a pressure in my chest, as the machine started to hum. The pressure continued, and I noticed something: my chest was starting to change shape. I could feel something inside me! While I was out, she had put implants in my chest, and they were now filling up with silicon gel!

I was helpless to do anything as they continued to swell and grow. My skin was stretching more and more as my bosom started to develop. They kept getting bigger and bigger! How could that be me I was looking at, with a hairless chest, with female breasts? I was completely powerless, and could only watch as I developed jugs.

When the machine finally stopped, my chest looked like that of a girl! I could not believe how 'they' stuck out from me, pointing pertly upwards. I had a pair of perfectly shaped female breasts! Me! This could not be happening. But it got worse than that.

A second woman dressed in a doctor's outfit entered the room.

"Oh Gloria, you went all the way to D cups this time. I thought we were going to make her just a C."

"That was the plan, but I think that she'll be better proportioned this way."

"I guess you're right. Lets get to work."

She? Her? They were talking about me! I wasn't a girl, even if they did give me breast implants. As soon as I was out of here, I'd have them removed.

"How long has she been receiving estrogen?" asked the doctorly woman.

"As long as she's been here."

"Good. Her system is saturated. And the testosterone blocker?"

"The same. We're ready for removal."

"Excellent. Go wash up, I'll prep."

First she shaved off all my pubic hair. Then she got out a grease pencil, and drew some marks on my tummy, hips, and between my legs. I couldn't feel a thing. She poked me in the privates, but there was absolutely no feeling.

I can't relate how terrible it was to be forced to watch as she took out her surgical implement, and started cutting into me. I couldn't feel a thing, but my mind was screaming out. I was revolted at the sight of blood normally, but to see a gash between my legs below the base of my manhood, where my balls started.

She kept carefully cutting, and a few minutes later, I saw them fall and heard the spat as my balls hit the ground. I could not feel it at all, but I saw it. I felt like dying. They had just cut off my balls!

The first woman was back now, and picked them up. She held them, just inches away from me. They looked so ugly, wrinkled and disgusting. I was afraid that she was going to put them in my mouth or something, so it was almost a relief as she instead threw them into the trash bucket. Splat.

She pushed a button, and I was forced to look down to see what was going on now. Another button forced my legs to spread wide apart, like a woman in the delivery room. The lady doctor had made an incision into me, and was cutting down the line she had traced with the pencil.

I couldn't quite see all that she was doing, but she was reaching inside of me, performing some kind of surgery. I could tell what was going on though: she was creating a cavity inside me for a pussy.

The worst was their next move. She took my manhood, and split it open! She clipped off the tube that led to my bladder, and several other structures. They were thrown into the trash where my balls were sitting. The awful smell of flesh filled the room.

Then she sort of rolled my manhood apart, to make it one long flat surface. She took it and stuffed it into the cavity she had created inside of me, and began to stitch things together.

"This will give you some degree of feeling when you have sex" she said. "You won't have a real clitoris like *we* do, but there will be some flow of blood to your new vagina, and you will get a pleasant tingling. You won't be able to have an orgasm, but who knows, perhaps some day science will allow us to transplant a real female reproductive system into you."

I wanted to die! They were making a pussy for me, out of the remains of my manhood. If I could have cried, I would have. But I could only watch as they did it all to me.

"I think she's had about enough" said the first woman.

"True enough" said the doctor. "Now listen to me Jeanette. This is very important. As soon as I clean up between your legs, I'll implant this."

She held up a small metallic cylinder.

"This contains a five year supply of female hormones, which will be gradually released into your system. They will effect everything from your skin to your boobs to your brain. But they take time to act."

"We're going to make a few more changes while you sleep" said the other woman. "And you'll be out for about a month as you recover. You will just go to sleep."

"That way, when you wake up, you'll be all heeled and ready to go."

"Now sleep tight dear Jeanette. And don't worry. You'll be a very pretty girl when you wake up."

Everything started to get dim as I started to fade. This couldn't be real. This had to be a dream. But I knew in my heart that I was only kidding myself....

* * *

 

I woke up, and I was sore. The last thing I had remembered was how they told me I would be asleep for a month.

"Look who's up!" said an unfamiliar female. I looked up to see a blond nurse looking down at me.

"Where am I" I said in an unfamiliarly feminine voice. High pitched, soft...female. My voice? They had even changed that?

"You're in the recovery ward" said the nurse. She picked up the phone, dialed a number, and whispered into the receiver. Then she hurried off out of the room, and I had a chance to look around.

I found that I was strapped down to the bed, but I could move my arms and legs. The first thing I did was to feel my bosom, which was now full. I just could not believe that I had big jugs! My skin felt so soft and smooth to, it was alien and unfamiliar.

The very shape of my body seemed wrong, as I felt the narrowing in my waist below my breasts, then the widening at the hips. I moved my hands inwards, and felt the tuft of pubic hair. It wasn't full and bushy, but trimmed short, in the shape of a rectangle.

Then I moved my hands down, dreading what I would find. An opening. A slot, into which I could fit my finger. A plastic tube ran out of it, and I realized that they had used it to drain the urine out of me while I was in a coma.

I just could not believe that my male genitals were gone. Even though I had seen them removed with my own eyes, and had heard the splat of my balls dropping to the floor, I just could not fathom that they were no longer there.

 

"Ah Jeanette, you're exploring your pussy already? What a good girl you are" said the woman who had lured me out of the nightclub.

"What did you do to me?" I said, shrieking with rage.

"We turned you into a woman" she replied. "Isn't that obvious?"

"But why? Why did you do this to me?" I was almost in tears.

"You will learn when the time is right. But first, you must get to know your new self."

She pushed a button, and the bed moved to a sitting position. She took out a large handheld mirror from a bag, and handed it to me. I caught a glimpse of my long manicured nails, with the same color of red polish that she wore. My wrist seemed thinner than before, and the rings on my fingers were not mine. I didn't wear jewelry!

I looked into the mirror, and was completely shocked by what I saw. I had long brown hair, four inches longer than my shoulders. It was very full and straight, except the ends which curled up towards my face.

My lips were also full, a light shade of pink. My cheeks glowed with a tinge of rouge. A subtle eyeliner was applied around my eyes, and a hit of color up under my eyebrows, which were now carefully plucked and thinned.

My nose was small and petite now, and the shape of my chin different. And my cheekbones; they really stuck out now, which along with the rouge made my face glowing and feminine. I had to reach up to touch my face, not believing what I saw in the mirror.

"You'll look better with mascara" said the woman, "but the technology doesn't exist yet to make it permanent, like the rest of your makeup."

"Permanent?" I said, stunned that such a thing existed.

"Oh yes, it's all the rage these days. Instead of having to put on makeup every day, you can have it permanently applied, sort of like a tattoo. So you'll always be pretty. Just a few touchups, a little lip gloss perhaps, mascara, a splash of perfume, and you're ready!"

She sounded so enthusiastic about it. But this was terrible! They made my face look like that of a pretty girl! The tears really flowed now.

"You'll find that you're a lot more emotional now, with all the estrogen in your system" she said. "But don't worry, you makeup can't run, since it's permanently on your face!"

This of course made me start to sob even more.

 

"Tell her the good part" said the nurse.

"Oh yes. Your training. Anyway, as you know your mind has a conscious and a subconscious. Like when you walk, you don't think to lift one foot, move it forward while leaning your weight over to the other foot, then start to put it down toe first, and so on. You just do it! That's your subconscious."

"It you tried to think of what you're doing" said the nurse, "then you'd fall down."

"Right. So some functions in daily life are controlled by your subconscious."

"So?" I said. "What's your point?"

"Oh, such an impatient girl you are Jeanette! I was getting there. Anyway, as you know, you can't *force* someone to think something. They have a mind of their own. But you *can* train the subconscious mind. In time, if you do it right, the things you implant into the subconscious can leak over to the conscious brain."

"And?" I said.

"And we have been reprogramming your subconscious brain ever since you went out like a light. Messages constantly hitting your ears, absorbing into your brain. Certain thoughts seeping into you, until your subconscious is full of them. That along with the high doses of estrogen, which change how your brain works, will slowly alter your thinking."

"I don't get it" I said.

"You will, Jeanette?"

"Who" I said.

"It's your name now. You *are* Jeanette. And your subconscious mind is already making that adjustment. Soon, you won't even have to think, you'll just *know* your female name."

"So you mean..."

"I mean that subconsciously, you'll think like a girl, in many ways that you will soon discover. You will have the subconscious mind of a woman, and the only thing left in you that is remotely male, is the remnants of your conscious mind."

"Why do you tell me this?" I said, upset and in tears again.

"So that you understand what is going on with you. When you look at a man and feel attracted, it will be because in your subconscious, that's what you long for. Or when you see a dress and want to wear it so you can be pretty, it will be because that's how you think now. Yes, your higher brain functions will protest that you're not really a woman, but that will break down in time, once you accept that you're a girl."

"I'm not a girl!" I said. But between my voice, my body, my new name....I knew it was wrong. I bowed my head, beaten.

"You understand Jeanette, don't you?"

I nodded.

* * *

They sent me out into the world, giving me an apartment which was completely furnished, including closets full of women's clothes. I hated putting on a dress, but as soon as I saw myself in the mirror, it would make me feel pretty, and I suddenly loved it. It felt *right*, like I had belonged in it.

This made me so upset. I was so torn inside between what I knew in my mind and what I felt in my heart. One minute I would feel elated about something, the next minute I'd feel completely depressed.

I had no idea why they did this to me, or even who "they" were! I just knew that I had a female body now, and I was employed as a waitress at a small diner, and a maid three nights a week to make enough money to afford the rent.

I fell into my dull routine of daily living. I got used to being stared at by the customers, and found that if I wore something low cut that showed off my new boobs and a miniskirt, I got more money in the tips. So what could I do? I started to dress sexier. And after a while, it became 'normal' for me. If I acted like a man, I'd get no tips. If I acted like a giddy excited girl, I'd get lots of money.

I got *used* to wearing makeup and heels. I got used to having long hair, and keeping it pretty looking. I got used to walking, talking and acting like a woman.

* * *

 

One day, "they" came back to my house. I immediately recognized the woman from the bar, who had seduced me, and lured me into all of this.

"Who the hell are you, bitch?" I said, putting my hands on my hips in anger.

"My my, very catty. Very good. You sure turned out pretty, didn't you?"

"Tell me what's going on! Why did you do this to me!" I demanded.

"That's why I'm here sugar. Now lets get something to drink, and sit down."

I reluctantly opened a bottle of wine which I pulled from the refrigerator, and poured us both a glass. I sat down on the couch, crossed my legs, and waited to hear what she had to say.

"When you used to be a man, you had been in several relationships with women, right."

"Yes. I loved women. I was a normal *man*, until you people did this to me."

"Correct. And in those relationships, you ended up breaking up with your girlfriend every time."

"Yes" I said. It was true, and I couldn't deny it.

"Why? For example, what happened with Christina?"

How did they know so much about me? I was beginning to realize that I hadn't been just randomly picked. They had some plan from the start.

"Well, we were very attracted to each other at first" I said. "We had a very physical relationship from the start. But over time, we started to argue, and it got worse and worse until we broke up."

"What was a typical argument?" she asked.

"Well, for example I had plans on a Sunday to go visit my buddies and watch some football. But she said that weeks ago she had told me that we were going to drive over to see her aunt and uncle that weekend, and how could I forget her like this? She was so upset at me for wanting to see *my* friends, who I hadn't hung out with in months. And I was upset that she was trying to control my life. That was typical."

"So in other words, her female behavior of wanting closer bonds with her family got in the way of your male behavior of wanting to bond with your friends."

"I guess so" I said.

"What was another argument?"

"Well, she said that if I really loved her, I would marry her. But I wasn't ready yet! If we were going to get married, that would mean that we'd have to move into her house, because my apartment was too small. And I didn't have the money to buy her a ring. And I wasn't ready to settle down yet..."

"So in other words, her female behavior of wanting a commitment from a single partner conflicted with your male behavior of wanting to be free to mate with any available woman you found attractive."

"You sound just like her!" I said.

"That's because I'm a woman. You see, males and females have different behaviors that are innate. And often times, they clash with one another. That's why there are so many troubled relationships."

"You've got that right" I said.

"What a man really wants in a woman is this: someone really hot looking, who will have sex whenever he wants it. But other than when in bed, he wants her to be like him. He wants her to like doing what he likes. He wants her to like his favorite TV shoes, his favorite movies, and so on. The last thing a man really wants is someone who *acts* like a woman."

"So you're saying a man really wants another man, but one with a pussy?"

"Exactly. Or in other words, what a man wants is *you*."

"Me?"

"Yes. You look to all the world like an attractive woman. But inside, you think like a man."

"But they said that they reprogrammed me, and that I would slowly start to think and feel like a woman."

"Jeanette, I hate to break it to you, but they lied. They just said that so you'd be more accepting of your new gender at first. In truth, you are who you've always been."

I didn't know what to think of all this. I was confused.

"But why? Why put me through all of this?" I said.

"We have had you living as a woman for a few months, in order for you to fully adjust. Now that you are used to it, we can move on to the next phase."

"And what is that?" I said, not sure that I wanted to go forward any further.

"Do you know who Michael Burke is?"

"The billionaire football owner?"

"Exactly."

Everyone knew him. He went from rags to riches, building his own business empire. And now that he was super-rich, he bought football teams, private jet planes, mansions...he was living the dream that everyone had: owning it all.

"What about him?" I asked.

"Well, for the past ten years, Mr. Burke has had one girlfriend after another. Some were only after his money, and didn't really love him, so he had to get rid of them. Some wanted relationships with him, but just like you and Christina, the male/female tension broke them up. He has searched for a mate for many years, without success."

I didn't like where this was going.

"And that is where *you* come in. You are going to meet him, start dating him, then marry him."

"Hold on! I'm not dating a man!"

"Yes you are Jeanette. But think of it: you'll have a mate who likes exactly what you do. He will want to see the football game every week, with you there in the luxury box by his side. He will want you to go with him on his golf trip in Florida. He'll want you with him when he plays cards and smokes with his buddies. In other words: you'll get to do everything a man with unlimited money could ever want to do."

"But I'll be a girl!" I protested.

"Other than that detail, you'll live the life of your fantasy."

"Detail? This is more than just a detail!" I said.

"You'll get over it. Now come on, you're about to meet your future husband tonight."

"No! I'm not dating a guy!" I said.

"Jeanette, don't make me force you to do this. You will like it much better if you do it on your own."

"You can't force me to do this! I'm putting my foot down!"

"And what a pretty foot it is" she said, shaking her head. "Do you know of a club called "The Foxy Hen" downtown?"

"Is that the one that everyone says is really a brothel?"

"Yes, it is. Your choice is as follows. You can go out with your date tonight, and find that you'll love your new life as his wife. You can buy anything, do anything, and live out your fantasies. Or you can spend the rest of your life as a working girl in the brothel."

"You can't make me do that!"

"Do you remember the drug I gave you at first, that made you pass out?"

"How could I forget?" I said.

"And do you remember the implant within you that slowly lets estrogen out into your system?"

"Yes" I said.

"There is also a quantity of the drug that makes you pass out in the device. All I have to do is to push this button, and you go into a stupor. It would be so easy to press the red button, and next thing you know: bam! You're lying on your back with your legs spread apart. Every time you try to sit up, another drop gets released, and you're back down, ready for your next customer. So what will it be Jeanette? Wife, or prostitute?"

Caught between a rock and a hard place, I had no choice but to pick the life of riches and luxury. Really, what else could I do?

"Lets get you ready for tonight!" she said.

* * *

 

So it was that I found myself at the best restaurant in town, sitting across the table from a handsome man who happened to own my favorite football team, and to have more money then you could ever imagine.

We just chatted at first, and being that I had been a man all my life, I knew how guys talked. Before long, we were talking sports, and hitting it off really well.

I guess other girls he had dated must have ordered girl food, like salads and light fare. But if I was here, at the best place in town, I wasn't passing up a chance to really live it up. When I ordered the lobster & steak combination, with the steak cooked rare, I thought he was going to fall out of his chair.

"You're not ordering that to try and impress me, are you?" he said.

"No, I'm ordering it because I always wanted to try it here, and to see if a $120 entree is really worth it."

We ate, and talked about all sorts of stuff. When he ordered a scotch after dinner, I did the same.

"Let me guess, you love cigars too?" he asked. I smiled. Soon, we were in the cigar lounge upstairs, sipping our scotches and lighting up cohibas.

It was like hanging out with a good buddy, except that I was wearing a red dress that showed off my big boobs, and I had on heels.

We had such a good time that when he asked me if I'd like to see him again tomorrow, I agreed. He had the limo drop me off at home.

As I put on my nightie, I could not believe what had just happened. I had been on a date with a man, and I had *enjoyed* it!

* * *

 

The next four nights, we did the same thing. We got together, went out somewhere, and had fun. He took me to a hockey game, and he was impressed that I knew all the players.

"They shouldn't be using Johnson on the penalty kill" I said. "He'll get stuck out of position trying to score."

Sure enough, he tried to rush the puck up the ice, but when the defeneseman knocked it off his stick, it set up an 3-on-1 rush the other way, and the visiting team scored.

"Wow, you sure know your sports. How would you like to go with me tomorrow morning, to watch my team practice?"

I was being asked to go to see my favorite football team practice! I was with the owner, so I would get to do something that very few people ever had a chance to do: see a private practice 2 days before a pro football game.

* * *

 

My head was spinning as I stood on the sidelines, and watched everything that went on. I thought I knew football, but I never realized just how complex it really is. I was watching one of the assistant coaches going over defensive coverage schemes, and it was quite a bit more than I had ever expected.

"What do you think?" asked Michael.

"Awesome!" I said.

"Of course, we'll go to the game on Sunday. I have the best suite in the stadium."

"Of course you do" I said. "I'd be thrilled to be there with you."

He reached over, and for the first time, gave me a kiss. I can't say that I was excited to be kissed by a guy, but he was sweeping me off my feet, and I didn't offer any protest.

 

In fact, after that, every time we were together, we would do something more intimate. Bit by bit, we drifted towards a physical relationship.

I don't know if it was all the hormones they had pumped into me, but I was finding that my sexual desires were somewhat confused now.

For example, at practice I saw the cheerleaders doing their routines. A few months ago, I would have been staring at their boobs or their legs, and would have been drooling. Now, I was mostly watching their graceful moves, and admiring how they danced. I didn't feel a pull towards them like I did before.

I wasn't attracted to them, or to men either. I was just kind of neutral. When that happened, it was when I realized that if I were to get with one of those girls, and start kissing, it would feel *wrong*, since I was in a female body now too.

And that was the moment that I decided that I would let him explore me, and I would allow him to take me to bed, if he wanted to. I would explore my new body, and see what I felt. I was so happy being with him! It was like being with a best buddy, but having so much money that we could do anything we wanted to.

And I was feeling guilty, because I was letting him do everything to take care of me. I wanted to give something back, but I had nothing to offer, other than *me*. If he wanted my body, I would allow him to take it.

 

When he took me to bed for the first time, I was scared. I knew that the hardest part for me would be to let go, and stop thinking of myself as a man inside. Looking at my naked female body in the mirror sure helped.

I knew what had turned me on when I was a man, so I did all of those things to him. And I knew what a woman could do to turn me off, so I avoided that too. For example, as a man I was always ready right away to go at my girlfriend, but she'd bug me to slow down, and do lots of foreplay and stuff. So I skipped all that, and encouraged him to just get it going right away.

Being in bed didn't do anything for me, but it made him so happy. I remembered how it felt to make love as a man, so I knew what he was going through.

 

From then on, almost every night we would go to bed. I learned what positions he liked, and how he liked it (rough sometimes, or me being very passive and weak sometimes). I let him do whatever he wanted, and tried my best to please him back.

I hated to admit it, but I was falling in love. And it wasn't very long before he invited me to live with him full time, in his mansion.

Now lets see: work as a waitress, and live in a dumpy apartment, or move in with a billionaire and spend my days working out, or lounging by the pool, while servants cooked lunch? Hmm. It was a no-brainer.

* * *

 

Michael gave me a credit card one day, and told me that there was a $25,000 limit per month that I had to stick to. I laughed! I couldn't spend that much each month if I tried to!

I think he thought that I'd be out buying jewelry, expensive dresses, and stuff like that all the time. In fact, I did get some new outfits, and some things to that I'd look pretty for him. But with all that money I could use, I bought stuff I had always wanted. Killer stereo, large screen TV, big computer, stuff like that.

He seemed to love it that I was spending the money on things that he could use too, not just on dresses and earrings. I was living a fantasy life, other than the fact that I was a girl. But bit by bit, even going to bed with him became so normal for me that it no longer bothered me in the least. Seeing the look of pleasure on his face when we made love made it worth it for me.

We went skiing at his place in Vail. We went yachting on his boat he kept in Miami. We went to a villa in Europe for a weekend, flying all around in his private Lear jet. I joined the "mile high club", which I guess had always been a fantasy of mine (but with me on the top in my fantasy!). I wore a stewardess uniform for the occasion, to make it more exciting for him. And we went to Paris, Milan, New York, LA and Hawaii.

 

After all of that, I wasn't too surprised one night when he took me out for a fancy dinner, then got on his knees, and pulled out a ring with the biggest diamond I had ever seen.

Of course I accepted, and soon we would be married. We were always together, and had such a good time. We were best friends, and now lovers too. But since I didn't do all of the things like my girlfriends had done, we never had that wedge between us.

After I had made love to Michelle for example, I would always feel so relaxed that I'd want to sleep. But she would want to talk about our relationship for hours afterwards, while we 'snuggled'. That had always annoyed me to no end, so I just let Mike go to sleep when we were done.

I could tell that he was stressed out about the wedding. Most girls of course would want something very elaborate, and spend months planning it out. When I had been a guy, and Christina had wanted to get married, she drove me crazy with all the millions of details she would talk about. So I made a proposal to Mike.

"How about instead of some big ceremony, we just do something simple? You, me, a witness, and a judge. On the beach in Hawaii. No invitations, no picking the menu, just the important thing - us.

I thought he was going to pass out with relief. You could see the tension melt away from his shoulders.

"I don't want to spoil your special day. You've been planning this since you were a little girl, and..."

"Shh. No. I want something simple. I don't want to spend months and months going over ten million stupid details that nobody even notices. Do you really care what the trimming on the tablecloth looks like, or what set of silverware they use? Lets just cut to the chase, and to the important part. I *want* something simple."

"That's why I love you" he said. "You always think like I do."

* * *

 

And three months later, I found myself standing on the beach in Maui, at sunset, holding his hand and taking my vows. If you had told me a year before that I would end up being a bride, and I would be *happy*, I would have punched you in the nose.

But standing there in my white dress, my long hair waving in the breeze, feeling the last rays of the setting sun shine on my exposed cleavage, holding the bouquet of sweet smelling roses..it was a magical moment.

When he lifted the veil from my face and gave me the deepest most passionate kiss I had ever felt, I just melted inside. I was *glad* to be a woman, because I was *his* woman. I was glad to be married, because I was married to my best friend and lover. I was glad to be a pretty girl, because that pleased him.

We ran up the beach towards our hotel, laughing as we felt the salt spray of the ocean. The honeymoon was officially starting, but our lives would be one continuous happy adventure.

I was the luckiest girl in the world.

  

  

  

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