BE FOREWARNED. The following story contains sexually explicit material not suited for those who have not yet achieved the age of maturity. If you should fall into this category, do not read further. Consult the laws of your community to clarify if you are eligible to read adult sexual material. The theme is transsexual. If this type of reading matter offends you, read no further. Go do something else. Standard disclaimer applies. Any association with real people, places, events, or entities is purely coincidental.

 

The Secret Service                    by: Virginia Kane              © 2001. All rights reserved.

 

Part Two.

 

Chapter Six

Hospital duty back at Pearl was far from boring. Jean and Ellie tended wounded personnel same as other navy nurses. They often had to chastise recuperating soldiers and sailors who attempted to pinch their butts when they’d bend over to adjust a bed or change bed linens. Protective orderlies were not much better, but weren’t incapacitated, so they pursued the two chameleons more boldly. Holding rank over these men wasn’t always effective means to dissuade them from being obnoxious, but was enough to keep them from being too aggressive.

Jean soon held the dubious reputation among naval hospital orderlies for having "cast iron britches". To dispel any rumors about the two roommates being a pair of lesbians, they dated unsuspecting officers occasionally with the consent, even urging from security, and Jean’s skill at protecting her virtue was put to the test.

However, she wouldn’t even let the men kiss her. Unlike Jean, Ellie’s off-duty schedule was full. Many men sought dates with her because she was known to let her dates get an occasional trip to second or third base. She wasn’t as pretty as Jean, but she was willing to provide her dates with heavy petting which made her more popular with men than Jean.

Ellie decided it was time to have a heart to heart talk with Jean about men.

"Lighten up! Live a little, Jeanie. What’s the harm of letting a handsome officer and gentleman by act of congress cop a feel now and then? It won’t cost you a thing and it means a lot to them. As long as you don’t spread your legs open for them, your secret will be safe. We’re a long way away from home. If the men we date should buy the farm, at least we gave them something pleasant to help remember why they fight and die for their country.

To the men out here, we represent the only connection to home and the good times that await them when they return someday after this lousy war is over. Your resisting requests for some hanky-panky is like dangling candy in front of them. Why don’t you give in a little and let them have some fun?

I know that someday you plan to have the doctors reverse the procedures that were done to hide your sole remaining male appendage, but until then, you’re a lot more girl than boy, so there’s nothing wrong with you dating men. Besides, your camouflage will protect your honor. I like being treated by men like a girl. Maybe if you relax and enjoy men’s attention more often you’ll get to like it too.

Me, I can’t ever go back to being a man, like you can. I’m stuck being one gender on the inside and another on the surface for the rest of my life, so the best I can hope for is to meet some guy that I feel I can trust enough to tell him about my condition and hope he’s willing to accept me as I am. I can’t envision asking a woman to love me this way, and I don’t want to spend my whole life being alone.

You’d better give some thought about how others will treat you afterwards, before you go back under the knife to remove your sutures. No matter how hard you try, you will never look very manly again. Take a good look in a mirror. Tell me what you really see. Will what you see ever change much, even if you get the sutures removed and release what’s left of your manhood, I doubt you could convince anyone that you aren’t a woman through and through."

"Enough!!! Ellie, you more than anyone else should know how hard like this is for me to accept. The sooner this is over, the better. I don’t want to be a woman. I want a woman; one that I can love; one who will love me, even if I can’t shoot a string of pearls like other men can. Can’t you get that through your thick skull?

Someday the doctors will be able to take my stored sperm and impregnate the woman I take for my wife with it. I dream about raising children constantly, having a family of my own. To me, that’s more important than meeting some asinine bigot’s criteria for how a man should look to the rest of the world. Being a man means having the ability to be a parent; procreate; make babies. Someday I will."

"That’s very nice, a wishful dream. So, you want kids someday. So do a majority of men we nurse in the hospital with a leg or an arm gone. What chance do they have for having kids? Some are lucky if they’ll survive long enough to get back stateside. Think of men that don’t get to come back from an offensive, the ones that end up floating in the shallow surf of a barren island with a strange sounding name. Think of how strong and brave they looked before they stormed a fortified beachhead. What chance do they have for achieving parental happiness? How about them? Why didn’t doctors freeze their spunk in test tubes before sending them off to war? They deserve a chance at progeny too, don’t they? Did I? What’s left in life for me? I’ll never get to have kids of my own!"

Jean realized she had ignored Ellie’s plight. "Oh, Ellie. Explaining why I don’t date men must seem selfish. Forgive me. For a moment, I’d forgotten your hurt."

"Jean, I date a lot of men, plain looking as I am. I hope I’m not the last girl any of them gets to kiss and fondle, but if I am, I’m damn glad to let them have a little fun, even if I’m not a genuine girl and not nearly as pretty as you. This rotten war steals everyone’s dreams of happiness, and their futures." Ellie burst into tears.

Jean took Ellie into her arms and hugged her hard. The two cried bitter tears for what had become of them and how little they were at fault for their unusual roles. With deep sighs and shuddering sobs, they clung to one another. Jean had to weigh words to Ellie more carefully, that was for sure. She lashed out at Ellie in anger for life’s irony clinging perilously to a dream that she knew was unlikely to ever come true. Like Ellie, she had grown accustomed to her apparent femininity.

Ellie wished to justify her growing homosexual leanings, out of futile desperation. Her manhood was lost in a war that was not of her making. She now only wished to make love, not war. "Make love to me Jean. Let me show you how to act like a woman more. I can teach you. I have everything necessary. I have near perfect breasts, and a deep opening that longs to be penetrated by a man. This life is too hard to face alone if you too are critical about my wanting something out of it.

I was a bitter fool. I asked for breast implants so that I could pose as a woman to go out on dangerous missions, expecting to die in battle. I didn’t want to survive. One mission, one lousy mission is all that they used us for. It isn’t fair. At least you have hopes to return to being a man someday. I don’t even have that. I want to die. Who would want a woman that had to become one, as she was no longer a real man. If I had ovaries, maybe it would make a difference, but I don’t. I’m not a woman. I’m a freak. So are you, but you can change. You can be a man again.

The only thing valuable I can offer with my life is give a little pleasure to men we think will die in battle. Back home, I wouldn’t have a chance to turn a man’s head. I know that. Theses guys didn’t ask to be here. I can see fear in their eyes and hear their hearts pounding when I lay my head against their chests. They all wish they could escape their fates, just as I do. At least I can provide them with some comfort and a few moments of distraction from their fear, one last time."

"Is that why you date so much? I didn’t realize. I thought that you were loose with your virtue because you were once one of them and still had male urges to sow wild oats. I misjudged you, Ellie. If I start dating men more often, would you feel better? If you want, I’ll be receptive to the men’s advances, so you won’t feel so alone. I wasn’t thinking about the men. I guess I was being selfish.

Let’s date men together more often. We’ll be a team. Okay? I wish I knew how."

"Oh, would you, Jeanie? Would you? Your reluctance often made me feel like a wanton slut. I do nothing more than let men kiss and pet with me a little. Honest. Even though I can let a man enter me without his discovering my true gender, I would know. Besides, they all don’t want raw sex. Most of them merely want the comfort and gentleness a woman can give them. You won’t regret it, Jeanie. It’s wonderful to have someone show signs of appreciation for our willingness to cuddle a little. Even now, with your arms around me I feel so good, I could cry."

"But, unlike you, I’m frail, Ellie. I’m not as strong as you are. How could I defend myself if a man wants to go too far? I’ll always be frail. You’re still powerful. That makes a big difference. You’ll have to show me how to protect myself better."

Hey! You’re my confidant; the only one who I could hope would understand me. I need you nearby as long as this war goes on, to remind me that I should not do a thing to disgrace womanhood. I’ll remain a woman, long after you change back to manhood. I’m stuck, Jeanie. Promise me you won’t rush into doing something silly, like volunteering for dangerous missions, other than letting frisky seamen grope you while we’re here at Pearl. I need you around to inspire me more."

"I promise."

They looked into each other’s eyes and kissed, and kissed some more.

 

 

Chapter Seven 

The relationship between them changed dramatically over the following weeks. They were inseparable, even when out on double dates with the men that hotly pursued them. Gradually, Jean’s rationale was affected by Ellie’s permissiveness on dates. Ellie became more intent on charming men, being a constant tease. Jean took dates more seriously, but was a docile lamb by comparison. They both became more daring as time progressed. One night in a parked car, Jean even went so far once as to let a date draw her hand into his open fly to touch his hard penis. She was shocked at its size, even though it was normal, for a man.

She had almost forgotten what having an erection was like. The man’s flesh was hot and felt as if it were made of polished leather. It stood erect, firm against the palm of her hand and surged when she let her fingers encircle it. She wished she could have an erection again. This one seemed huge to her. It had been well over a year since the last time she had felt any reactions occur in her modified groin. As she manipulated the flesh, under the constant guidance of her date, she observed the "monster" with awe. The vibrant staff in her hand held her avid attention. She felt more than mischievous, consumed with lust from behaving boldly for a change. She wanted to see if she could excite him enough to reach an orgasm without doing anything more than touching him.

She knew what her manipulations could cause if sufficient and coordinated and stopped suddenly when it was obvious that he was approaching a point beyond which he would lose control. Before she could move her hand away, he erupted, still kissing her, with his tongue between her willing, open lips, titillating her upper palate. She sat there with her hand saturated with ejaculation. Finally, she wiped it off on the inside his government-issue boxers, embarrassed for trying to see if she could stimulate a man enough to cum.

Afterwards, when it was late, the two returned to their tiny apartment, Ellie asked Jean if she heard what she thought happened. "Did your date cum in your hand? He was breathing so heavy; I thought a train was going by. You made that army air corps fighter pilot ruin his underwear. It’ll take a month of washings to get the stains out. Girl, you looked like a sex goddess afterwards. I knew that you would, once you let your hair down. Felt good to you, didn’t it? "

Jean liked being referred to as sexy, ever since she started acting bolder with men at Ellie’s pleading. Her resistance toward doing things other girls did with men was fading. "It did feel good. Something inside of me wouldn’t let me stop. I couldn’t help it. He seemed such a nice guy. I wanted to reward him some way.

I noticed the two of you in the back seat weren’t too intent on what we were doing up in front. Ellie. I saw your head disappear for quite a long time. It was easy to tell what you did. You were being so noisy about it. What does it taste like, a man’s hard flesh?"

"At least the lieutenant colonel’s shorts won’t show any signs of his release."

"You swallowed his stuff?"

"Of course! What else could I do? Every car on the bluff would see if I opened the door to spit it out. The SP’s are usually aware of what goes on at the bluff, but if they had seen something that outrageous, they’d have to run us in for performing indecent acts in public. Tee-hee! The hospital staff would give us hell for it and the whole island would be buzzing about our arrest for weeks. I didn’t mind."

"How could you ever do that? Playing around a little to make men happy and give them an evening of courtship to remember is one thing. A man’s thing spurting sticky goo into your mouth and you enjoying it is something else. It smells awful and was so slimy it made my skin crawl to feel it oozing out between my fingers. I had to wash my hands twice as soon as we got back. Thinking about what you did for your date and enjoying it makes me want to gag."

Ellie started to undress. "You wouldn’t, though. Hey, I have no desire to be a guy anymore, I never will again, and I don’t ever want to be thought of as one again.

That colonel made me feel sexy as hell giving him what he needed and he didn’t give me a bit of satisfaction in return, not even after I gave him what he wanted from me at the very start. I’m still horny as hell. If you still think you can act like a man, prove it. You prefer women. Why don’t you put your fingers inside of me to get me off now, or you can use your wagging tongue to do it. I need some relief."

"No way! I don’t care what you think you are. You’ll always be a guy in my books and I’m not interested in that sort of thing. I won’t do it for a guy that’s hung like a bull. Why would I want to do it for you? What good would it do? You can’t cum."

"You claim to still be a man. Okay, fine! I can still lubricate and I can respond to a man like real women do. Put your mouth where your money is, mister. Women love to feel the brush of a man’s whiskers against their mounds. You don’t have any, and I doubt if you’ll ever have to shave again, but I’ll bet that you don’t even know how to act like a man in bed with a girl. You wouldn’t know where to begin."

Ellie cornered Jean and put her lips up against hers. Her tongue lashed out as her hands roamed over Jeans swollen orbs until she found the ripe nipples and she squeezed hard. "At least I can remember what it was like to make love to a woman. I doubt you ever kissed a girl before. Did you?" Her tongue darted out and was in Jean’s mouth before she had a chance to react. "How does his spunk taste now? Do I still have enough of his flavor left for you to appreciate?"

Ellie pushed Jean back. Her skirt rode up and Ellie took a hold of the waistband and pulled it up until it surrounded Jean’s head, trapping her arms within it’s tight confines. While Jean was falling backwards on the bed and thrashing about, Ellie pulled the helpless girl’s panties to one side and mashed her lips against Jean’s sutured groin. After a few seconds, Jean stopped fighting the inevitable. She tried to extract her arms from within the coarse fabric of the wool skirt around her head and arms, as Ellie’s firm tongue snaked out and touched the spot where Jean’s urethra was exposed at the edge of her opening. Jean’s attempts to resist Ellie suddenly evaporated as the woman gently sucked on the very tip of her mostly hidden penis. Ellie treated Jean like a man would treat a clit and it scared her.

"Ellie, please stop! Think about what you are doing. I don’t want you to do that to me! You are also too being way too rough. If you tear out my sutures, I can get a serious infection. Don’t. Please, don’t do it. I’ll try to do what you wanted me to do for you earlier, but stop what you’re doing before it’s too late."

Ellie eased up and inverted herself over Jean with her mound at Jean’s lips. With a deft move, she knelt with her knees on either side of Jean’s armpits and slowly lowered her mound over Jean’s face. "If you kiss my pussy, I’ll believe you. If you balk, I’ll tear your sutures out. You can claim that you fell on a broomstick later. I’ve wanted to feel your lips on my bush for a long, long time. I may not be able to offer you the same flavor a woman has, but trust me it doesn’t matter. You can find that out what that tastes like for yourself, after you go back to being a man.

Jean closed her eyes and let her tongue drift between the soft, fleshy lips of her roommate’s groin, imagining it was a real woman’s vagina, her first encounter with a female, even if Ellie was not one by birth. Actually, the parted flesh tasted a bit sweaty, but other than that, it tasted bland. Jean wondered what men’s objections against performing cunningullus were about.

 

She continued to explore. Nothing! As Ellie cooed and mooed in the throes of an extreme abandon. Jean was unimpressed. Then she detected a new taste, a very subtle one. The stub of flesh at the base of Ellie’s crevice brushed against her tongue and made Ellie cry out in ecstasy. "Ew yes! Like that! God, do I need this! Keep it up, honey. Oh, yeah!" Ellie continued to moan and groan, while she gyrated her mound on Jean’s probing tongue. Jean tasted more bland fluid. It wasn’t acrid and it didn’t smell bad as she supposed it would. The way Ellie was acting, Jean felt she’d have a stroke soon. Instead, Ellie bucked back and forth, setting a rhythm going to emulate a man’s fucking. Jean savored Ellie’s flow.

Ellie leaned forward and let her lips encircle the tip of Jean’s hidden cock, once more. Soon, the rhythm was reciprocated and Jean met Ellie’s lips with thrusts of her own. Jean never had received oral sex as a woman or a man. She realized that she might never have another chance like this if she resumed her male persona. Instead, she seized the opportunity to indulge now and try a man later as well, if she liked what Ellie did to her hidden penis.

The two ersatz lesbians rolled to one side, delving deep into each other’s groins with increased gusto. They eventually reached a crescendo and were wracked with emotional releases that Jean never experienced in the past and Ellie didn’t have since her horrible ordeal with a land mine. Ellie was more than pleased with the results. She was able to urge Jean out of her pristine shell to eat a pussy.

Finally, they were exhausted. Ellie lit up a cigarette while Jean lay still in a silent state of shock. It was her first bout of sex of any kind, other than the unrewarding hand job she gave to the sailor earlier that evening. It was no wonder so much exaggerated hullabaloo was made over mutual oral sex. "Well, sweetie, what do you think? Still think that I’m a man? Still think you can go back to being one?"

 

"I don’t know. I’m not convinced. How could I be? I never tried any sex."

"You could try sex with a man to find out if it suits you better."

"How? A man can’t enter me."

"Maybe if you have one or two of the sutures removed from the bottom of what’s left of your scrotum hiding your penis, you could accommodate a man like I can. I superficially examined you while I was down there. I can’t be sure, but what the doctor said doesn’t jive. Your appearance isn’t very different from my alterations.

The big difference is, you have what resembles a large clitoris hidden inside of a pouch. Your hidden penis must be small. Your foreskin was sutured along the flesh under your scrotum, and the skin of your scrotum was trimmed and drawn over the penis until both sides met, and was tucked between the skin on either side of your pecker. Your fake pussy looks better than mine, but feels like there’s a lump under the skin. To an untrained eye it looks genuine enough to fuck."

"That can’t be. They assured me the procedure is reversible."

"So? Maybe it is. If they ever do get around to reversing things for you, you’re in for a ‘small’ surprise. You won’t be starring in any 8mm stud flicks, if you get my drift. The thing has shrunk up on you. I don’t think testosterone shots will revive it again, either. When was the last time you had an erection?"

"I stopped having erections shortly after my dad passed away, after I ran out of the serum that he regularly prepared for me ever since I was a teenager." Jean retold Ellie about falling onto the tailgate of the truck and how he was bedridden for well over two years afterwards. She also explained how her dad sustained her male appearance, unbeknownst to her, with monthly testosterone shots.

"Oh, honey. I think that was sweet of your dad. He wanted to protect you and he didn’t want you to feel any different from the other boys your age after you had your serious accident. You may disagree if you’d like, but you are probably less of a man than I am. You don’t have much of a penis for a guy your age.

I was mature when I lost my manhood. You were still growing. That explains your small size and your docile nature. You didn’t have testosterone deprivation like I did after my accident. I was an emotional wreck until they stabilized me with the estrogen and progesterone shots.

I had wild mood swings for weeks once they put me on a regimen. When I first woke up sexless, I almost went out of my mind form the shock of what happened. I had to be sedated and restrained. As I slowly recovered, I studied what was to be in store for me and resigned myself to face it. Didn’t you have biology?"

"No, I missed it because of my injury and the prolonged recovery."

"Well, while studying habits of mice and various farm animals, biologists found that neutered males in infancy adopt many characteristics of females. That’s because the males produce some estrogen as well as testosterone that makes them more aggressive and robust. When the source of testosterone is removed, the males produce more estrogen to counter other deficiencies beside the male secondary sexual characteristics necessary for balance within the body. I don’t produce enough estrogen because I was already mature when I was injured.

The result of accidental castration in a youth is a male that looks and acts like a female. The earlier the removal of the source of testosterone, the more readily the male adapts and produces more estrogen. Come to think of it, you do look like a living doll in comparison to me. Your youth at the time of your accident is probably the cause of that. I suspect there is a large file kept somewhere about your case. As long as you were not overreacting to what happened at the time, they didn’t want you to suffer trauma and go off the deep end."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Hey, don’t get upset. I only mean that you aren’t likely to go be able to regain a true manhood, as you would like to, Jean. Could be, that’s why they neglected to advise you about your small hammer size. You’d know about it eventually when you discovered the girth and size of most other men’s sex organs. Not going to high school after your accident delayed your seeing other guys in the process of taking showers after gym classes. Did your penis get bigger as you grew up, or did it stay as small as it seems to be now?"

"It has been the same as long as I can remember. I was in my mid-teens at the time of my accident. I assumed that what I had in the way of size was normal and was all that I would ever get. I didn’t know enough to judge. I think the guy I was with in the car tonight was enormous in comparison to what I remember."

"Male appendages continue to grow long after the teen years. Some men’s rods continue to grow in length well into the thirties, and in girth longer than that, Jean. I sincerely doubt if anyone knows why. How do you feel at the moment?"

"A little shocked, I guess, and disappointed that I don’t have more."

"I was referring to what we just did together."

"Oh. I’m not sure if I liked it, if that’s what you mean. What you’ve been saying has me thinking. I didn’t feel terrible afterwards like I thought I should. Maybe it was because you forced me. I don’t know, Ellie. You look and act like a woman, even if I know that you’re a man inside or at least you once were one. It’s very confusing. Whether I am still a man and you aren’t anymore--- or if I was never a man, just a boy at the time of my accident, and it stopped then – or if my body resisted become feminine because of the shots my dad gave me and for no other reason --- or what.

Oh, what’s the difference? I can’t do anything about it for now."

"Wrong! Talk to a doctor, a civilian specialist if you can find one still here at Pearl. See what a doctor outside of the military tells you what can be done. Meanwhile, I think you owe it to yourself to try to find what will be best course of action in the long run. They have their hands full at the moment. Make inquiries on your own."

"How do you know so much about all this?"

 

"I’ve been there. Remember? My orders are to treat you like my kid sister, and so far, I have. Big sisters are supposed to tell their younger siblings about the facts of life. I guess your brother didn’t tell you much about t when you were a teen."

"No, I was in the hospital so long, and then he went away to college. We didn’t get much chance to see each other. Maybe it was for the best. I’d hate to think of how he’d react if he saw me looking as I do now."

"He had to know you lost both of your berries when you fell off that truck. Do you think your dad told him not to tease you about it or something? That would have accounted for him not making fun of your dinky weenie. Didn’t he ever talk about the facts of life with you when you were growing up?"

"No. We didn’t see much of each other. He left for college when we relocated to Chicago. I didn’t get to learn much about sex at all. I wasn’t preoccupied with it, either. I thought it was normal not to discuss sex. It’s rather personal. I never had any close friends my age to confide in about learning more."

"Well, it’s about time you knew. Young men are all sexaholics and grow up to be worse. They can’t stop playing around with it, once they figure out how it works. Didn’t you ever wank off or see your brother with a ‘woodie’ in the morning?"

"No. Not really. Mine would get hard all by itself once in a while, and it felt pretty good, but I wasn’t too crazy about that happening. It would do it at the weirdest times, like when we were in church." Jean chuckled. "I thought the devil was messing with me to tempt me into becoming a sinner. I know. It’s kid stuff, but I was still a kid. It also happened a lot while climbing up a tree or taking a shower."

"The devil, you say?" Ellie laughed out loud. Then she got a serious look on her face. "So, you never had a true male orgasm. I can’t blame you for wanting to be a man again. You don’t know what you’ve been missing. What about how you felt with me earlier this evening when we were exciting each other?"

"It felt real nice with your lips down there, but I didn’t hear any fireworks going off, just a steady flow of nice, tingly feelings." Ellie was rubbing her hand over Jean’s mound. "Like it feels now, with your hand rubbing me down there. Are you going to try to make me come like a man does? I always wondered what it was like."

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes. Our talking makes me think that I’ll never find out what it is like to be a man. It bothers me."

The following morning, disappointed at not being able to ejaculate in spite of all of Ellie’s efforts, Jean made an appointment to visit a civilian gynecologist. She took special care to look prettier than she usually did. Her makeup was a bit on the heavy side, but still not overdone. Ellie didn’t say much to Jean at breakfast that morning, just the usual casual bull that one shares over toast and coffee.

 

 

Chapter Eight 

Ellie arrived home from work early. Jean had pled illness to take the day off from work to see a gynecologist, at Ellie’s insistence, Jean told her what happened at the doctor’s office. She was lucky. The female gynecologist was able to squeeze her into her schedule and rapidly pumped her with several questions regarding sexual experiences and desires while she examined her, without making any comments about her unusual cosmetic surgery. It was obvious to Ellie Jean’s mind was working overtime. "She even asked me how often I wanked off when I was a teenager, like you did. I told her the gospel truth: I never did."

"What was her reaction to that?"

"She seemed shocked. I don’t think she believed me. Do most boys do it, Ellie?"

"Hmm. I don’t think there any published statistics, other than in medical journals, but it’s a safe bet that 99% of them do. I know I did, and often. The least bit of inducement, like seeing a pretty girl, even one in a magazine, was all I needed to go to my room to pull my pud. I kept a small roll of toilet paper in my dresser to clean up afterwards. I remember changing the rolls in the bathroom before they were empty, just to have a sufficient supply handy when the inclination arose.

I wish I could still do it. It was a habit you take for granted until you aren’t able to do it anymore. I can diddle my surgically manufactured clit, but it isn’t the same as taking a fistful of meat into hand. I’ll bet your little pecker would feel as good as anyone’s if you could get a hand on it, now that you know more about how most guys relieve sexual tension and don’t have a girl of their own to help out."

"Oh, talking about masturbation distracted me for a moment, Ellie. I almost forgot to mention the most important thing she said. After examining me thoroughly, she asked me what prompted me to have my penis hidden away. It wasn’t necessary to hide it, as it small enough to easily conceal with pads. I couldn’t tell her about the real reason without breaching security, so I told her I had it done to get into a nursing program that didn’t accept men. I was worried she wouldn’t buy my story and pry further. She didn’t, so I don’t think I have to advise security of any breach at this point. Then, we talked about my options, and why I sought her out at this time. I told her my present circumstances might enable me to engage in some sexual activity and my last doctor was stateside, so I came to her.

She told me she could remove my stitches, if that’s what I wanted and thought it was long overdue, as I hadn’t been cleansing the area properly. I told her I came to find out what could be done and wanted to think it over and let her know the next time I see her. She then said she could also move a few stitches, to enable entry by a man for sexual activity if that was why I sought her assistance. "

Ellie looked at Jean with a raised eyebrow. "What did you tell her?"

"The doctor aboard ship who concealed my penis told me it was only meant to be cosmetic, but this woman said I can continue to keep my penis hidden indefinitely if I have two stitches moved to afford better personal hygiene. She cleansed the entire cavity with a large syringe, but said the procedure was long overdue and it was unwise to neglect personal hygiene. She gave me the impression she felt my modifications were done when I was younger, to prevent my having sex with men even before the war broke out. In fact, she asked me what I did with the cleansing appliances given to me by the wicked man who butchered me.

When I asked how she knew it was a man, she smiled and said no woman in her right mind would ever deprive a girl access to the most intimate parts of her body. She touched my arm when she said it. "Especially if the girl was born differently and wasn’t used to having a cozy orifice instead of a nasty protruding sex organ." The way she said it, I knew she misunderstood the purpose of my modifications. She put it bluntly and told me she could enable me to take on any man I wanted.

 

She also was upset because I was careless about my personal hygiene. I guess that ship’s doctor didn’t think I’d be around long enough for it to matter. She even scolded me and acted surprised that I didn’t have an infection due to negligence already. She said if the shots that I have been giving myself ever since I had the sutures put in were probably responsible. They must contain a strong anti-biotic as well as the estrogen, or my last doctor attended to it for me. I wasn’t aware they were doing that, until she explained how it was done. Shows you how little I know about feminine hygiene. No wonder they examined me routinely."

"It was a good idea, Jean, seeing a civilian doctor. Now that you have, what do you think you’d like her to do? If I were you, there’d be no doubt in my mind, no question at all. If you don’t want to have a cock, tell her to cut it off and I’ll go to her in a heartbeat and have her sew it onto me, small as the thing is."

"I thought you were dead set against returning to manhood."

"I am, unless I could get another working tool of my own. I don’t mean having a non-working prosthesis, like my navy doctors suggested. What good would it do me? They wanted to take tissue from my thigh and graft it in place. Getting a soft, permanent piece of hanging flesh that doesn’t function isn’t worth the pain and aggravation. However, a real penis, that would be worth having."

"Fat chance, Ellie. Even if it were possible, you’d need extensive surgery to undo your breasts, too. Would it still be worth it all? What if they did all that and it still wouldn’t work right? You’ve been masquerading as a woman longer than I have. What if it’s too late for you to go back?"

"Exactly. That’s why I think you should have all your sutures removed, Jean. Why would you want a cock, if it doesn’t function anymore? You’d better find out if it isn’t too late already. Think of it, Someday, if you stop getting female hormones you could regain rigidity and use yours like a man again. Me, I’m stuck this way. If I were you, I’d jump at the slightest chance of becoming a man again, so you’d better not delay finding out if the thing has any life left in it."

"I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to use it when I had it. Maybe I’m better off not knowing what it would be like."

"Look who’s having second thoughts, now. What changed your mind?"

"The gynecologist told me the sperm taken from me and put into cold storage back when I a kid couldn’t be used to make a woman pregnant that she was aware of. She said some doctors in Europe are doing extensive research on the premise, but it still is only a pipedream. If they can perfect a system of using it someday, like they do for animals, it’s possible, but any further developments are unlikely to be pursued because of religious influences. She said only fresh sperm of prize bulls is usable for reliable artificial insemination in animal husbandry."

"So what? It wasn’t too long ago that blood plasma was developed. It was nearly impossible to get enough whole blood to go around which had to be refrigerated constantly to be of any use. So, men bled to death needlessly from battlefield wounds. Now we can pump plasma into them at the front to stabilize them until they are out of harm’s way and safely put in a hospital. Maybe, in the future, they’ll find workable ways to inseminate women artificially, too. Who knows?"

So, for now, it looks as if I’m back to square one. I’m neither man, nor woman."

"Yeah, I guess we’re two of a kind. The navy parked us here, keeping us busy in a rear area and out of their hair in case they need another pair of ‘fakes’ to go on a special mission that calls for imitation women. If we get killed, they’ll probably be glad we don’t pose an ethics problem to them, somehow. When I think about it too much, it only upsets me. They don’t seem to care enough.

Did you notice? We haven’t been assigned to work as corpsmen like we thought we would be? All we do is tend to injured men in the base hospital with a strict set of rules against disclosing our true gender. Without the freedom to go out on an occasional date, I’d go crazy with cabin fever. Do you suppose that the new security liaison officer knows what we’re doing with our free time, or cares?"

"To tell you the truth, I haven’t given it a thought."

"Well, I have. I think he knows. I think he’s let on about us to men he knows that want easy dates and are either lonely, or bored sick. Both of which are true in my case. I get so many offers for dates lately, I have to turn most of them down."

"I’ve also been approached for more dates lately. Some are handsome men, too. That’s why I went to see the gynecologist. What if one tries to rape me and finds out that he can’t? What then? I’d better plan on having the sutures moved"

"Every guy that I dated lately; expects me to give him hot oral action. I don’t mind giving head, but I resent being used by anyone, whether for intentions conspired by security purposes or not. I think they may be keeping track of how we act out on dates, too. Do you think the men we date report back what we do to security? Omigod! What if they are keeping track? They’d know everything!"

"What’s wrong?"

"I don’t know. I just had a hunch. Maybe they are using the two of us to find new ways to utilize men who suffer what happened to me, and guys like you that don’t have a full set of tools. Maybe they want men like us for spies or to be used as sexual toys to get information out of the enemy. Ah, it’s probably all in my head. All that I can prove is: we’re not seeing any front line action, and we aren’t being shipped out, either. The brass must have good reason to keep using us bottled up here as guinea pigs or for some future clandestine activity."

"Your imagination is running amuck, Ellie. I doubt the navy gets involved in any sinister things like that. You read too many spy thrillers for your own good."

"I wasn’t accusing the navy. If it were the navy, the doctors we work with wouldn’t be so cordial to us. They’d be looking down their noses like they were examining some microscopic specimen in a Petrie dish. No, I don’t think any navy doctors stationed on Pearl have a clue regarding our condition, but someone’s doing a good job of monitoring us, but not good enough. Nearly every guy who asks me for a date uses a similar line on me. If someone weren’t prompting them, their corny lines would vary more. I think many our dates are arranged by someone for some other reason."

"Aw, Ellie! You’re imagining things."

 

Ellie didn’t know it, but there was a very good reason for monitoring their dates.

 

(to be continued. )

 

 

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© 2001 by Virginia Kane. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.