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 Five.

 

Chapter Twenty.

"I did not peel out of the restaurant driveway, Jean!"

"What difference does it make? The three of us saw that you didn’t stop before you pulled into traffic and the cop thought you were driving recklessly. If I didn’t know him, he would have given you a ticket, Ron. Consider yourself lucky that he only gave you a warning citation, as long as another of us three was willing to take over the wheel. You’d have to come back to Denver in a few weeks to pay the fine and retrieve your license, if the policeman wanted to press the issue.

Ellie doesn’t know the way back to our place, and Jasmine doesn’t drive in heels, ----- yet. We’ll be at the house in a few minutes. Why must you continue to gripe about being stopped by the policeman? No wonder Jasmine wants to wait until morning to explain the idea she tried to suggest to you on the dance floor."

"Jean, that cop probably had to meet a quota, and spotted a pigeon to nail."

"Ronald! I can’t believe you! Forget your male ego for one minute and admit that you might have been driving carelessly. We won’t bite your head off. No harm’s done. Sit back, relax, enjoy the company of your friends and direct some of your attention to Ellie for a change. Would you rather sleep on the couch tonight?"

"I might as well, Jean. The three of you are ganging up on me because you want me to do the things for Ellie that Jim’s doing for you. It won’t work, Jean. I’m not into wearing any women’s clothes for kicks."

"What Jasmine (Jim) chooses to wear to please me has nothing to do with your horrid attitude. You haven’t been your normal, charming self for one moment this trip, Ron. I hate to say it, but it shows, and I for one don’t like you this way."

"Bull. You’re all on a campaign to get me into dresses. Forget it. I won’t do it."

"We have forgotten that. You haven’t. Once you told Jim of your absolute refusal, he stopped all further mention of you dressing up to please Ellie. You have every right to refuse, if you’re dead set against doing it. You’re the one who brought it up again. Are you afraid you’ll like wearing her things too much?"

"Please drop it, Jean. He’s not willing." Jim pleaded with his wife Jean, squeezing her free hand in his. "You’ll only rile him up more. I don’t blame him for having his reservations. What would happen to him at the naval base if he missed removing some nail polish, or someone notices he didn’t have any hair on his legs? If I was in his place, I might be reluctant, too. He’s got his navy career to consider."

"There! See? Even Jasmine realizes that dressing like the three of you is far too risky for me in my job. Ellie, honey, please don’t get these two involved in what bothers you any more than they already are. We’ll start working on resolving our differences, once we get back to San Diego. We’ll try adoption from some private agencies. Who knows? Maybe one will consider us without checking far into your background. Let’s kiss and make up. I promise we’ll find a way."

The two couples didn’t waste much time saying goodnight and they went into the respective bedrooms after exchanging polite hugs. Ron almost hugged Jasmine, but caught himself at the last second. Instead, he shook her hand and the four of them laughed at Ron’s embarrassment for forgetting his friend Jim was under the daring dress and makeup on "Jasmine".

 

The following morning, Ellie announced that before retiring for the night, she and Ron had a heart to heart and came to an understanding. They’d soon explore more avenues to become parents, like a majority of their suburban neighbors. Ron even conceded that he was looking forward to the challenges of parenthood.

At the end of their weekend visit, on the way out to load the luggage back into the car, Jim tried to bring up the dance floor discussion with Ron. "Look, Ron. I was trying to recommend a plausible way for you to satisfy Ellie’s obvious desire to be a mother. Apparently you took my motives wrong. I wasn’t trying to interfere or cause trouble between you and Ellie, honest. I was trying to help, nothing more. I’ll be happy to explain my idea fully, but not if you don’t want to hear it. You were adamant at the time, do you still feel the same way?"

"I could hardly believe my ears, Jim. It sounded to me as if you were suggesting I should kidnap an unborn child from some unfortunate refugee. I’ll have no part in anything that is even remotely illegal. I learned one important lesson on Tinian: Ignore the military code of ethics in any way, and they’ll nail you to a cross.

My instincts told me I may have to face a court marshal for being involved in that escapade, but let my attraction to Ellie obscure my better judgment. I won’t allow my total devotion to her sway me from my orders again. After escaping that close scrape, I’m keeping my nose squeaky clean and covering my ass in every way possible."

"I didn’t know you were being court marshaled. When did that happen?"

"When we got back stateside. That’s why the three of you were mustered out in a big hurry. I was the only one to face criminal charges for promoting their sexual impropriety. The hush-hush investigation took place because a careless clerk let Ellie’s prior male identity come to the attention of some legal beagle in charge of overseas operations. It seems that self-righteous asshole had a streak of moral indignation a mile wide and assumed Ellie was a deranged homosexual intent on disgracing the uniform this zealot was so proud to wear. I had a hell of a time in defending myself, without involving you three veterans to back me up.

I had to prove beyond reasonable doubt that her gender change took place here, stateside, long before she was assigned to the Pacific as a wave, and that she volunteered upon request, to serve in the role of a navy nurse. The man who was responsible for my being charged thought otherwise. Learning two men posed as female nurses in my detachment and discovering they worked together under me with direct ties to covert operations had him convinced I had them intentionally altered for the purpose of pandering for my personal profit. I guess word of their sex-filed dating habits over the months before you met them got around. The guy reasoned that my restricting their dates to men on lists of military personnel that were in my possession meant I was arranging sexual assignments for the girls for money and influence favors from people with good reason to maintain tight secrecy. It was, but not for my benefit. I did it to keep their prior male identities from exposure and to stop the rumors about them being free with sexual favors.

I escaped conviction because I was assigned to direct the covert aspects of their assignments long after they arrived in the Pacific. My overcautious predecessor claimed to have no knowledge of their previous physical alterations, and testified that Ellie and Jean were still men when he directed them, and well trained as female imposters, in well-prepared disguises when he worked with them. It was a lie, utter nonsense, but he thought he was doing the right thing in denying any knowledge of any prior physical modifications being made. It was a total fiasco from beginning to end, and I was the one charged with ordering the removal of their male sex organs to render them indistinguishable from authentic females.

Think of my position, now, Jim. I’ll get strung out and crucified if I bring any hint of another scandal to the navy. Some scrambled eggs are still sore over our wives’ sexual exploits before and on the way to Tinian. B-29 crewmen have big mouths.

If Ellie and Jean hadn’t been sent overseas and assigned to that civilian research clinic for a plausible scientific reason to use their identity covers and I didn’t have a legitimate reason for assigning them to a facility under civilian direction, outside of military jurisdiction, I’d be sitting in a federal prison for operating a covert ring of sex perverts to satisfy tastes of kinky men who showed a zest for having their ashes hauled by unusual men. They had me sweating. I don’t dare slip up, now."

"Ron? Ellie is out of the military for over five years. How would anyone connect seeking to adopt a child with the Tinian operation? I still don’t see a connection."

"The promotion review board knows I live with Ellie. In their books, she’s still a man living as a woman, regardless of what her identity papers say. Someone still believes she was either tricked of forced into becoming a woman, surgically. I’ve been passed over for promotions and assigned to a string of menial jobs with no responsibilities. They parked me in limbo until I retire. One silly slip up, and I’ll be dead meat. I’m so sick and tired of it, I’m about ready to resign my commission."

"Does Ellie know about this?"

"She’d have a royal cow, if I tell her. I’m not supposed to be telling anyone this. I’m under a gag order to protect the honor of the navy, but you are my shrink, so, I’m telling you this under your code of professional confidentiality as my attending psychologist. Do me a big favor. Don’t make any more recommendations about ways for Ellie and me to adopt babies, will you?"

"Why are they so paranoid? Why would the navy care if Ellie and you adopt?"

"Some guy in the army who was stationed in Europe has the military up in arms. Before mustering out, he saw some surgeons in Denmark and was seeking to be transformed into a woman on purpose, not like our girls who became what they are because of accidental events that resulted in the loss of their genitals. Their conditions made accepting womanhood almost a necessary alternative. The Danish doctors publicized intentions to emasculate and reconstruct the guy. One bragged about his surgical daring, claiming American doctors are childish. They’ll perform a lobotomy to create a whole new personality in a person, but refuse to operate on a man’s testicle. He ridiculed our medical profession’s morals

The navy brass are afraid Ellie will come out and tell her story to the press, once she finds out about the public clamor that arose over this lady in the making in Denmark. The navy still pays for Ellie’s hormone treatments and all her other medical costs on the GI bill. I won’t jeopardize her future medical benefits."

"The guy in Denmark wants to become a woman voluntarily? That’s a switch. Since the war, a lot of women want to behave more like men, now that they’ve had a chance to wear pants and wield a sledgehammer or drive a forklift. Say, I’d like to look into it further. Get me all the information you can about the guy’s story without violating your military privy. I’d appreciate learning more about him."

"Check it out yourself, Jim. The guy’s name is Jorgensen. All I want to achieve is Ellie’s dream of happily raising kids like everyone else. I’d prefer to leave well enough alone, if you don’t mind. If I start to dig for information about that ex-GI in Denmark, and some eager beaver gets wind of it, I might be plastered all over the newspapers for being a fiend like that big-mouthed doctor. No, thank you."

"How do you plan on adopting a child, without the navy learning of it, Ron?"

"I don’t know. I doubt if there’s an agency in the world that would grant custody of an orphan child to Ellie and me. If we do manage a small miracle, I’m sure the navy will try to retaliate, somehow. Likely, they’ll cut off Ellie’s medical care, for starters. You have any idea of what the costs of her monthly shots alone are? We can’t afford it on my navy pay. I don’t know what to do, Jim."

"Ron, The plan I tried in vain to tell you last night still might work. If you set aside your immediate negative reactions and listen without interrupting, I’ll spell it out. Just don’t go into a tirade, like you on me did last night. If you don’t like the prospect, let it pass. I won’t even mention my idea to Ellie again."

"If I have your word of honor on it, Jim, I’ll listen. Otherwise. Forget it."

"You’ve got it. Here it is. When some unmarried girls from outside of the country get pregnant, they want to have the child born here, so the baby will be a citizen automatically, by birthright. They risk everything to get here, and are often caught by immigration authorities before their babies are born and are deported, unless a girl can convince them an American citizen is responsible for the pregnancy."

"That part I got last night. I want no part of a paternity suit."

"Immigration won’t expend much effort to deport an alien mother of the unborn infant of an American citizen. Foreign mothers are allowed to remain in the states to feed and care for their American born infants afterwards. Public aid provides for the full support for the child’s welfare, but they offer little help to the woman.

You and Ellie can hire a pregnant foreigner as a part-time, live-in maid and Ellie can to tend to her child while the mother is gainfully employed full-time during the daytime after giving birth. Immigration may consider you the child’s father and choose to not deport the unwed mother. Everyone benefits, and Ellie gets to find out how hard it is to see to the needs of a screaming newborn infant, firsthand.

Once her present longing to hold a newborn baby in her arms, for hours on ends dwindles, and she tires of the tedium of constant parental care, she’ll forget about wanting to adopt children. What do you think?"

"I don’t know. It could backfire. If Ellie loves caring for the child, what then?"

"Cross that bridge if and when you come to it. She won’t be so eager, once she’s had a good taste of the grueling schedule she’ll have to maintain. Simply make sure she’s the one who must get up in the middle of the night, every night, to feed and change the baby. Watch how fast it takes the wind out her sails."

"It could work. I’ll have to keep you posted to let you know if we’re successful."

 

Six months later, Jim and Jean went down to San Diego to visit Ellie and Ron and meet the new baby. When they pulled up at their address, they found that half-a-dozen carpenters were busy erecting an addition to their house, amid the howling squeals of a baby being held in Ellie’s arms. She was standing out in the front yard of her next-door neighbor’s house, waiting for their arrival, standing in the yard, ready to greet them and trying to escape the incessant noise of electric saws and the clamor of busy hammers pounding away at the Richards’ house.

What was more astounding was Ellie’s appearance. Her tummy was protruding, as if she was well into pregnancy. When they asked her for an explanation, she said the neighbors all know the child in her arms was not their own. The child’s natural mother has a fiancée whose family expects him to wed a virgin bride, so the girl is staying with Ron & Ellie to deceive his overbearing parents temporarily.

The mother agreed to grant Ron and Ellie the privilege of helping her to raise the child, until she and her husband finish their educations. By the time they both will graduate from college, are safely wed to each other and another offspring is due, they’ll explain the previous infant’s premature birth to the husband’s overbearing parents hopefully without too much of a scene. Meanwhile, Ellie will have a nice chance to care for an infant for a year or more, enabling the newlywed couple to establish their life together without fear of retribution from his parents.

"How wonderful!" Jean was going ga-ga about the tiny bundle in Ellie’s arms and asked Ellie if she could hold the baby, "just for a little while".

"If you can stand his wailing, be my guest."

Jim didn’t notice the look of contentment fall over Jean’s face as she cuddled the infant. Jean ignored the adults and babbled to the delight of the infant, trying to capture his attention and ignore the sounds coming from the nearby workmen.

"Let me introduce you to my next-door neighbor: Fran. She’s my closest friend, next to Jean. She has three children of her own in school, and has taught me a wealth of knowledge about the essentials of child rearing. We weren’t prepared for the degree of care they require." They followed Ellie’s to meet her neighbor and spent the remainder of the afternoon getting acquainted with child rearing.

While the construction crew packed up their tools for the day, the three guests left the quiet sanctuary of Fran’s quaint living room. She went off to pick up her children from school. Ellie passed the baby to Jean once again, and wiped off fresh sawdust from her kitchen table and chairs, and offered Jean and Jim a welcome cocktail, as she made one for Ron, who she expected home shortly.

"I notice that you look like you’re planning to have another child soon, Ellie. Want to tell us more about it? What will you do with two infants on your hands."

"I’ll be able to claim this child is my own," she said, rubbing her tummy. "It’s been arranged to look as if I’m having a child. It’s a long story. Since it seems that Ron is running late again, I’ll tell you about it while we wait for him. It’s getting past his normal e.t.a. He must be working late or he stopped off for a cocktail or two with friends from work. I wonder if he forgot you were due to arrive today."

"No matter. We’re here, Ellie. I’d like to hear how you will come to have a baby."

"Sure, Jean. College kids. They drink too much; and men easily forget how to be careful having sex, and I’m suddenly about to become a mother. In four months, I’ll make sure that all the neighbors think I’m going to a hospital to give birth to what is really an unfortunate child of a young girl who comes from a prominent family from out of state.

Her family is strict catholic and they won’t permit their underage daughter to have an abortion under any circumstances. Yet, the grandparents to be don’t want to publicly put the baby up for adoption through an agency, because of the dire circumstances that led to the girl’s pregnancy. Don’t be shocked. There’s a good reason for placing the girl’s baby quietly. You’ll understand in a minute or two.

Strangely enough, they, and only they want visitation rights. The young lady is to have no knowledge of the child, after she gives birth. Her parents are distraught; they wish to shield her from realizing what had happened. They will provide for the baby’s care via a blind trust fund they set up. They even arranged to provide us with a handsome bonus upon the baby’s graduation from college if that ever occurs, under the condition that the girl has no contact with her baby in any way.

The expectant mother is in her fifth month now and is supposedly away in France studying art, so her absence from school will not be questioned by close friends from home or the influential family of her totally devoted boyfriend, who is not the child’s father and doesn’t even know she’s pregnant.

Knowledge of the incident that resulted in her pregnancy may ruin the couple’s future happiness if he discovers his sweetheart behaved carelessly one night and passed out from too much drinking at a frat party. She’s really in a private health facility now, involuntarily, still under psychiatric care.

All of our neighbors know that little Jimmy is our maid’s child and they think it is wonderful of us to be so obliging to a single girl to care for her infant while she works in a cafeteria at the college where the expectant mother attended at the time she was raped repeatedly by a group of college men intent on an orgy.

Her ordeal had to be terrifying. According to what we heard, she has blotted the entire episode from her memory and believes that she is being hospitalized to be sure an illness doesn’t interfere with the survival of the fetus and she has will be cured and fully recover under careful medical supervision and complete bed rest.

She thinks her fetus is her boyfriend’s doing. While she was being brutally raped, her beau was off on a previously planned year of education in Europe. He could not have been responsible, but she did have sexual relations with him during the month previous to her rape, while still attending college here. The college records confirm he now attends classes in Vienna, in a student exchange program.

His family knows nothing of the incident, and supports his goal to wed the young girl upon their graduation next year. The girl comes from a prominent family they approve of, and think they’ll be an ideal couple that will fit into their social circles. They know nothing about her unfortunate rape.

A security patrol discovered her early the morning after the frat party, propped up outside her dorm, awash with semen oozing out of every orifice. Her limp body reeked of stale sex and her hair was matted with the dried sperm of many men. It must have been a terrible sight, to come across a young girl in disarray, with her body bruised and swollen from being raped over and over many times.

Her family was swiftly summoned, and with the help of the college security force they launched a discreet inquiry to discover what had happened, to no avail. Whoever was responsible knew where she lived and brought her there under the cover of darkness, deep in shock, too stunned to know how she got home.

No one knows who the actual father is. She had any number of lust-crazed men use her body repeatedly without her conscious knowledge or consent for what the doctors who examined her estimate was several hours. Poor kid. She has to live with a blank page of an entire night of her life. She thinks she collapsed from effects of a debilitating illness that the facility doctors tell her they are treating. In her condition, they feel deceiving her is a kindness."

"Yes, there are times clinical discretion is advisable." Jim replied.

"The police claim there’s no way to identify who is responsible for getting her pregnant, as the evidence showed clear, conclusive proof that several men took advantage of her that night. She is still very emotionally unstable, according to her professional care providers. Perhaps the girl will be better off not knowing of her baby’s successful birth. They feel knowing her parents are offering the baby up for adoption could trigger a breakdown from which she may not recover.

After delivering, she will be told that she lost the baby. She will lose it. Because her attending analysts have declared her incompetent with corroboration from additional analysts hired to confirm her condition, she won’t ever have sufficient legal grounds to oppose her parents’ decision. Her doctors agree, that her best chance for full recovery lies in thinking she lost the baby in childbirth.

It isn’t the baby’s fault, and her family feels she’ll recover sooner if she isn’t faced with the stark reality resulting from her lack of due concern for self-preservation. Three girls at the frat party testified she was blind stupor when she left early with some male students she knew from another local college who crashed the frat party, so she can’t claim that she was abducted by force. No one recalls who the men were or could remember the kind of car she entered when leaving the party.

Everyone present was intoxicated to some degree and too preoccupied with the others antics going on. Some thought that her boyfriend was summoned to take her home. A friend who was supposed to call her boyfriend had thought someone else must have already phoned him when she noticed the girl wasn’t still at the party. She was deeply involved in a petting session with a frat member when the raped girl was taken someplace else, and she thought nothing of it at the time. As is usual, memories fail when a person fears they might implicate someone that they know who committed a crime, and may reap reprisals, if they speak up."

"How did you manage to be approached for being surrogates?"

"Through our new maid. She heard about the incident on the campus grapevine and subsequently met with the raped girl’s parents while attending group therapy sessions held for interested unwed mothers and their families at the facility where the girl is hospitalized. She raved to them about our taking her in when she had no place else to go and needed our help. They subsequently contacted us, met with us to confirm our worthiness, and felt we would be an ideal couple to raise their new grandchild. I hope it’s a girl. We’ll then have one of each.

They know nothing about my past, and I don’t intend to bother them with it.

They have enough to contend with, as it is. I hate to say it, but the poor girl may never be able to resume a semblance of normal life again. If she ever does, she may be haunted forever with a memory too gruesome to imagine. The doctors feel they chose a prudent course of action.

The doctors at the facility, competent psychiatric professionals, diagnosed her as severely emotionally unstable due to an intense traumatic short-term amnesia. They also attribute her childlike innocent trust in the protection offered to her at the facility to the utter shock of being forcibly raped so brutally by demands for submission or suffer extreme physical harm. Our maid told us her parents shared the information told to them by the doctors in group therapy. After they learned about their daughter’s rape, they suffered from terrible nightmares. The group therapy sessions helped them to not place blame on an innocent infant.

Her parents obtained a writ for the unborn infant’s custody, are have the right to place the child with foster parents of their choosing to see to the care of the child, once it is born. I hear Ron coming. It sounds as if he was drinking again."

Ron barged through the back door and hugged and kissed his wife, then Jean and then put his left hand on Jim’s shoulder and pumped the other vigorously. "What kind of lies about me has this woman been filling you two with?"

Jim smiled and mockingly tapped Ron’s chin with a closed fist. "You horny devil. Ellie has a bun in the oven, eh? How you been, Ron? Still with the navy?"

"For the time being. We need the neighbors to think we rely on bennies that the navy provides to pay for the offspring that’s supposed to be on the way. In a few months, we’ll find out if we can afford a full-time maid, instead of a part-timer that cooks better and cleans better than Ellie does. If the population of this household keeps growing, I’m going to move up to Utah, and become a Mormon. Have you two met Sally, our gorgeous maid, yet?"

"No, we haven’t." their traveling guests answered in unison.

"Wait until you see her. She’s got a body that won’t quit. You’d never know that she recently gave birth to a kid. When she moves it’s like liquid heat, that gets a guys motor running. How about it, honey? Does Sally crank her ass like a pro?"

"Keep it up, you asshole! There’s barely enough room to sleep in this tiny house. If you don’t find a better job to pay all the remodeling bills, I’ll put you into one of her uniforms, and rent you out to the neighbors, instead of her. I think the men on our block could find a good use for someone with a mouth that’s always open."

"Heh, heh. You know I’m only kidding. She’s still at it, guys. Wants me to put on her dresses to entertain the neighbors. That would turn a few heads. Ellie: Didn’t I agree to take Jasmine’s last bit of advice and try out a few more things before you realized that I could never wear your stuff again? Was I right? Didn’t I look totally ridiculous in that shit? Hey Jim, are we going to be favored with a visit by that Jasmine woman this trip. Ellie and I have had a long talk and came to an agreement about these semi-annual visits.

Whenever she has to play pregnant, she gets to stay home to watch all the kids while I can go out with the girls of my dreams. Anyone here interested going out and spend a long night dancing cheek to cheek under the stars? I picked up the local paper on the way home to see what bands are playing around town tonight. Welcome to San Diego, my friends. In an hour or two some of the best joints in town will start jumping. I’m in a partying mood."

"Who wound him up, Ellie? Where’s that sad sack that we saw in Denver." Jean snuggled up to Ron, happy to see him in a better mood than he was during their last get-together. She gave him another quick peck on the cheek.

Ron kissed her back, full on the lips, with his tongue imbedded between them. She put her arms against his chest and tried to dislodge his grip, but failed. Her face showed disgust for his drunken, impolite behavior.

"By they way, Ellie. Some of the men down at the Corner Tavern asked why they haven’t seen you around lately, so I announced our impending blessed event. You’d be surprised how they all reacted. They must miss watching you do the bump and grind that you do so well. A man’s stature goes up a great deal when his pals find out he can still wave the old magic wand,"

The cold stares Ron got were too hard to ignore. "What?"

"You could use a stiff one stuffed between your lips, tiger. That was a rotten thing to say to Ellie in front of us. Where were you brought up?"

"Whoa, easy. I had nothing to do with her morals. That was years ago. The girls have new lives. Can’t a guy brag about what comes natural to friends?"

"You know. You’re haven’t changed a bit since the last time we got together. You are still a complete jackass, Ron. Tell you what. You ought to prove to us you really aren’t the callous and crude pig that I think you are by getting down on your knees an beg Ellie’s forgiveness and apologize to both of the girls."

"That’s telling him, Let him have it." Ellie knew she’d regret her comment, later.

"For what? For cracking a joke about my still being able to screw? We’ve known each other for close to twenty years. There isn’t much about each other that we don’t know, now that you let us in on your love for dressing up in women’s things, Jim, and showed Ellie and me how well your pretty little wife has you trained to do her bidding. You want me to get down on my knees? Go put on a dress for me, and I’ll kiss their shoes, and yours as well, wise guy. At least I’m proud that I’m still a real man, not a wimp, like you."

Jim was fuming. Ron changed for the worse since he’d seen him last and needed a good lesson in humility. Something Ron just said gave him an idea. Having the girls watch Ron kissing his feet while he wore a dress should put him in his place. He decided to talk to Ellie about it in private at the earliest opportunity.

He felt that maybe Ron would behave better towards Ellie and be a much better father if he knew more about what it was like to be considered a lesser creature. His blind arrogance must make him think manhood is superior to the so-called weaker sex. By enlisting the aid of the two women, Jim thought he should be able to put Ron in a position of begging the girls for forgiveness. He needed time to evaluate a proper course of action to correct Ron’s egotistic attitude.

"Forget it. You’ve changed, Ron. I don’t know why Ellie put up with all your false bravado for over five years. You wouldn’t know the first thing about being a good man in bed, one that knows how to treat a lady if you took advanced lessons in love-making from a Frenchman in the days of Napoleon. You need to get help, before you wash out, pal."

Jean came to Jim’s side and kissed him for telling Ron off. She cupped her hand and whispered into ear. "He needs to be buggered in his butt, but good. Maybe if he knew how it felt to be fucked back there, he’d treat Ellie nicer."

Jim leaned back and peered at her in shock. He wholeheartedly agreed with his wife’s assessment, but he never heard Jean talk crudely or speak bluntly about other people’s personality problems. After all, he was the professional. His wife never questioned his insight into behavior traits, or gave him advice on matters of psychology in any way. It was refreshing. He kissed her lightly on the cheek for her candor, and nodded in agreement. A plan to fix Ron’s cork was already taking shape in his mind.

A trip to consult with a local, fellow psychologist he knew in the area to secure access to a neighborhood pharmacy was in order. Ron would soon find out what the average man fears most in life, being forced to submit to another man and be an obedient sex object. It wasn’t very ethical, but at the moment, Jim was more concerned with the rights of the unborn child that would have to grow up hearing the ranting, tolerating Ron’s ignorant behavior in the future, if nothing was done to curb the man’s Ego. What if the child turned out to be a sweet little girl, and as susceptible to his arrogance as her mother? Would Ron be as callous with her as he seemed to be with Ellie? Would he? Not if, Jim could help to dissuade him from continuing to act as chauvinistically he did now, in front of Ellie and Jean.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One.

 

Ron passed out on the couch after supper. He continued to pour more liquor into himself at dinner. He was so drunk; Jim and Jean they could talk to Ellie without fear of Ron hearing what Jim proposed to do. He explained what he had in mind, but didn’t convince her. She would have to live with Ron after Jim and Jean left for Denver. She admitted that Ron changed dramatically after the maid moved in, and he became jealous of the attention Ellie paid to the baby in her care and was worried that he might become more belligerent when the new baby arrived.

She hopefully expected the child would give Ron’s life new purpose, and he’d be willing to accept the infant as a gift, a challenge, and straighten out. She knew Ron’s drinking problem was slowly growing worse over the years, and reasoned with him, as best she could. She felt Ron must resent her for not being born as a woman, as she looked now, and would have preferred a genetic woman, but was too stubborn to admit having a woman that was once a man was too much for him to accept. She did her best to please him, but he was often bitter and treated her like dirt, afterwards. Giving in to her for wanting an adopted family instead of his siring children made him surlier of late. She had enough of hearing him heap blame on her. Ellie let it all come out. After realizing how badly Ron acted in front of their friends of many years, she agreed to help Jim.

 

Jim and Jean had left the house long before Ron woke up late, with a hangover. Ron called the base on the phone to cover his tardiness. He didn’t even kiss Ellie when he hurriedly flew out of house to quietly sneak into his office without being seen. That was his undoing, as his guilt over being tardy again, a recurring habit that was not unnoticed by his superior, made him jump at the sight of his waiting commanding officer.

"Late again, due to drinking, I see. Don’t bother to deny it Richards. You’ve had your last warning. His commander was making a scene. I’m not about to tolerate blatant disregard of orders I gave you in the past. To see that you don’t use your cunning deceit to fake humility this time, I’m personally marching you over to the dispensary with a member of my staff as a witness, and have them draw your blood. If the alcohol level indicates your judgment is impaired, I’m going to throw the book at you. You’re a career man, damn it! How does this behavior look to swabbies? I understand enlisted men behave irrationally, on occasion. It’s to be expected. You know better. You’re relieved of duty until further notice.

Move out!" The three went to the base hospital and the blood test confirmed Ron was still inebriated sufficiently to warrant an official review under article fifteen. His commanding officer didn’t want to press charges, as a court marshal would end Ron’s career. That would hurt Ellie more than Ron, and Ron’s commanding officer wasn’t out for Ron’s hide. He wanted him to be more responsible.

His work became deplorable over the past year and others in the command often complained Ron didn’t hold up his end of the work assigned to the group.

While Ron was sent to sober up at an SP station, and await formal notification of pending charges for reporting for duty intoxicated, his commander returned to his desk to advise the man’s wife of his reluctant task. "Hello, is this Ellie Richards?"

"Yes, Commander Blake, I recognize your voice. Did something happen to Ron? Is he alright? He didn’t smash up his car on the way in, I hope?"

 

"No, Ellie. In a way, I wish he had. Not that he’d be injured, mind you, but if he had a minor fender-bender, he would have been arrested for driving under the influence and face civil jurisdiction, not a military tribunal.

Ellie, I warned Ron about his drinking several times. I gave him the benefit of the doubt on more than one occasion. I can’t tolerate his ignoring my direct order to seek help for his addiction to alcohol. Unless he does, I’m afraid his career in the navy will end before he meets tenure for a decent pension. You won’t have to worry about benefits, though. If he is institutionalized to resolve his dependency on alcohol, all your medical needs will continue to be covered by the veteran’s administration. I’m sorry Ellie, but I’d be a poor commander if I let the men in my command act however they please."

"Oh. I don’t know what to say. Please don’t think that I feel it is your fault. It isn’t.

I knew the day would come that I’d get a call like this one. I’ve tried to prepare myself for it but, --- excuse me, ---- I guess I’m not good at hiding emotions. Ron is a good man, deep down inside. I’m afraid that I’ve driven him to this."

"No, no. You mustn’t blame yourself, Ellie. Ron must accept responsibility for his actions. He knew I’d come down on him for drinking. You aren’t at fault in any way. I assure you, I’d have taken other steps, if I felt it would do him any good."

"I know, Commander Blake."

"I will consider reinstating Ron after he seeks professional help. I suggested that he enter a clinic where they can confirm whether complete withdrawal is from his problem is possible. Otherwise, I’ll have to request his resignation. If he refuses, my only recourse is to recommend an immediate discharge. In the meantime, he is sobering up in the brig. He’s not locked in a cell. He’s merely being held under SP supervision near the infirmary until he appears to be sober enough to drive home. I thought it best to let you know what to expect when he gets there."

"Thank you, Commander Blake. I appreciate your time and consideration."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Richards. Oh, --- you have my number. Please keep me posted. I’d hate to see his career end over this. His record prior to his drinking was good, only marred by the one instance, and they were false charges against him, and that was long before he felt the compulsion to drink heavily.

I’ll do what I can to retain him, but he has to show evidence of his willingness to change the way he’s been living. Goodbye, Ellie. I hope he comes around and sees the error of his ways quickly. If it’s of any use, I can recommend a doctor to see about his entering a formal program for recovering alcoholics. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to take an alternative course of action."

"Goodbye, Commander Blake, and thank you, again for calling."

Ellie dropped the receiver back into its cradle and stared at the white refrigerator. She knew it would eventually come to this. It was brewing for a long time. The baby in her arms was less helpless than she felt at the moment. Her pleas to Ron to cut down on his drinking went unheeded. She sighed with dismay. How will the grandparents react when they discover he has a problem with liquor? Would they withdraw their offer to place the infant in their care? Tear tracks marred Ellie’s cheeks, as she cuddled the maid’s baby in her arms.

Noises from the yard distracted her reverie. The carpenters resumed their work after finishing their lunch break. Fortunately, she didn’t have to strain to hear the words from Ron’s commander, while she warmed the baby’s milk on the stove, and didn’t have to call the man back from the neighbor’s telephone if workmen busily wielding their hammers and saws were at it when he called. How would they ever pay for the new addition the men were constructing?

 

Jim and Jean found her sitting in the living room with the baby in her arms when they returned from their morning outing. She advised them that Ron was thrown into the brig for showing up at the base red-handed with evidence of his drinking in his blood. Jim asked for Commander Blake’s phone number. He remembered the no-nonsense man from his active-duty days and thought it wouldn’t hurt to hear the charges that were made from the horse’s mouth.

"Yes, please. Tell him Lt. Randolph would like to speak with him. I see." There was a long pause. "I met him in the Pacific during the war. No, World War Two, not Korea. --- Thank you." Jim waited for Ron’s commander to pick up the phone, and tried to formulate what to say to relieve the man’s reluctance to speak to him.

"Yes, sir. It’s Jim Randolph. We met on Tinian while I was stationed there to attend to psychological ramifications of the use of the bomb. Yes, sir. I was called up for duty at the time, I served my stint in the navy before the war broke out as a non-com and was awarded a commission due to my professional status.

I understand a friend of mine --- yes, sir. I know it’s irregular. I am a psychologist and Ron’s been a good friend since long before the big war. -- We attended high school and college together. No sir, I’m not calling to dissuade you.

If I may cut to the quip, sir, I’d like to suggest a treatment facility that’s local and exemplary. I hope you won’t mind my offering to help, and will understand if you feel I’m imposing. With your resources, you should have no problem verifying my credentials. Yes, that’s Jim Randolph. I practice psychology in Denver.

I must decline direct involvement, but I’d like to recommend a local practitioner in San Diego. Since this is a military issue, I’d rather the referral was made through you, instead of by me. Yes, sir. I can give you his name, address and his phone number to check out for yourself. I understand. I’ll maintain strict confidence and not be offended if you prefer to assign an alternate provider. ---- Oh, I wasn’t aware Ron requested that he be confined to a clinical detention center. Yes Sir." Jim didn’t bother to relay the data for the potential assignment of Ron’s case to a revered associate and concluded his phone call, requesting the opportunity to meet with Ron’s commander under more congenial circumstances. Obviously, the man didn’t recall meeting Jim previously and didn’t reply.

"Ellie. Ron must have sobered up. He requested to receive treatment at a military facility. He knows that he’ll lose a good part of his pension if he musters out now. I wish I had a chance to meet with his immediate commanding officer before he got busted for his drinking. I don’t think a military facility will get anywhere with the cause. All they’ll want to do is dry him out and mark him fit for duty."

"Won’t that be good enough? Ron’s no dummy. He must think the military will be more than willing to slap a band-aid on his problem, after they’ve gone through the motions. He can come home sooner. Isn’t that wise? Why not let things evolve this way, Jim? If he ever has a relapse, he will still be on active duty and accrue more pension benefits."

"No. If they don’t think they can, or feel they should bother to cure him, they may recommend a discharge, immediately. Once he’s been mustered out, there isn’t a prayer he’ll ever be reinstated to continue in his career. One other thing, if he gets canned now, he may be blackballed and not be able to apply for a license to be a dogcatcher let alone a detective. Who’ll issue a gun permit to an alcoholic?

We should have visited more frequently and nipped this thing in the bud, Ellie."

"Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve!" Said Jean. "Why must you put blame yourself, Jim, honey? If you do, we may be visiting both you and Ron in the same facility. Let’s concentrate on his speedy recovery, not on his addiction. The faster he gets back on his feet, the less likely the prospective grandparents will find out.

If it requires putting Ron through a meat grinder to prevent their selecting some other candidates to raise their new grandchild, Ellie should do it. You must get Ron referred to the associate here in San Diego we talked to this morning, Jim. Ellie? What do you think should be done?"

 

"I’m at a loss. I’m afraid of hurting Ron if we make the wrong decision. How can I judge what I feel is best for him, is the same as what he feels, too? Of course, in his state of mind, he probably isn’t thinking very clearly, and whatever he might choose may not be best for him at all. He might not be able to decide for himself.

What would be the best thing now? It’s hard to guess. I remember how I felt, on learning that my whole world was turned upside down. When a person is faced with a shocking choice, like Ron, knowing that he is faced with an undesirable treatment program, no matter what, the immediate reaction is to deny what had happened. Then, when further denial seemed senseless, he probably made the least obtrusive choice. That’s why he chose the military program. He must think they would dry him out, and send him back. What if they don’t?

When I was a mud marine and I suddenly lost my manhood because one of my fellow marines stepped on a landmine, I awoke in a navy hospital unaware that I survived. When I discovered what happened to me, I went into deep shock. All my dreams and hopes for the future were dashed to the ground in the explosion. Through no fault of my own, I was left sexless.

It took a lot of soul searching to choose becoming a woman outwardly, but what other choice did I have? So, I became a practical nurse, and I can tend to some simple injuries and wounds, but I know little about treating an alcoholic or what treatment technique would be best. I don’t feel remotely qualified to make such an important decision about Ron’s future. Jim, I need your help to decide. I don’t know enough, on my own.

If you feel he’d be cured faster and better in a civilian facility Jim, then that’s the alternative we should choose. I’m afraid a quick fix will only come back to haunt us, later. I’d rather see Ron recover and be like he was when we first met. I loved to hear his charming wit and be the object of his possessiveness. I do wish he would act like he did back then, instead of the rude, spiteful person he’s become. I don’t feel it’s his drinking that needs curing, it’s only a symptom. His hatred for me because for what I once was has him down. Can they cure that? Is a detox facility capable of curing him of what led him to drink heavily?"

"Possibly, Ellie. To cure his drinking problem, they are going to probe his mind for the cause. Identifying the cause will give them the key to successfully curing Ron from his alcohol addiction. Do you want navy doctors digging into your life, more than they have so far? They won’t be kindly to either of you. Chances are, they would have washed him out sooner, but parked him where he was stationed just to keep him out of their hair." Jim told Ellie about the ex-soldier in Denmark.

"They may cooperate. The navy won’t want a scandal to fall in the wake of the one the army is facing. That may be an underlying cause for Ron’s sudden dismissal. They may fear he’ll talk out of turn and blame the navy. If he is sent to a naval facility for treatment, there’s no telling how he’ll respond. I don’t think the navy will harm Ron, but I’m not willing to take a chance."

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two.

 

Ron didn’t show up that evening, or the following morning. Jim called his office to transfer his appointments for the following week to associates. Once his docket was cleared, he had a week to check into Ron’s whereabouts.

 

"Yes sir, Commander Blake. I know he signed himself into the detox unit. No sir, I don’t have the authority to practice in California, but, ---- yes, sir. All that I’d like to accomplish is to find out where he’s been taken. His wife would like to know what treatment is being prescribed. Yes sir. I’m calling on her behalf. I see. He doesn’t want her to know. She has the right to inquire into to his --- I don’t see how the ---

So, her unusual history doesn’t qualify her to know as his next of kin.

I assure you, sir my interests are ---. You were cordial with Ellie when you called her on the day Ron was arrested, or should I say was detained for questioning? Why are you now denying us access as to his whereabouts? I see. Well, I assure you I will not call again, but I cannot agree. It is my business. I intend to procure the direction of legal counsel. I’ll bring them along when I call upon you in person sir, and if that isn’t sufficient, I will contact the defense department and insist you provide Ron’s treatment center to us directly. No sir, I am not bluffing. I will use all means at my disposal to locate him, and, yes I have already discussed the matter with my own lawyers. I doubt you are in accord with their legal opinion, sir. Next time we speak, I’ll have a court order in my hands. --- Good day to you, sir."

Jim wasn’t bluffing, but he quickly called his lawyers to confirm if Ellie or him had the legal grounds to demand being told of Ron’s whereabouts, next of kin or not. They were cordial, but informed him, that barring a liability or claim against Ron, the navy had no legal obligation to disclose Ron’s whereabouts to Ellie or Jim.

"What about a demand for payment of mounting remodeling bills Ron ordered?"

The navy, on Ron’s behalf, paid off a written court order for the payment of the outstanding remodeling bills. That ploy had failed, but let Jim know the navy was willing to discharge Ron’s debts before disclosing his whereabouts. Every effort to contact Ron was blocked. Ron was being held incommunicado.

 

 

 

Nine weeks later, Ellie received a sugarcoated phone call from Ron’s former commander to advise her that Ron was to be released from a navy hospital in a few days. He would receive a medical discharge and all his benefits would be in force as a retired officer and gentleman of the navy. Ron had signed retirement papers. He was not required to resign his commission. If Ellie wished to continue receiving benefits and learn of where Ron was being released, she would have to contact a civilian representative. After relaying the man’s name and address, the phone line went dead, without a courteous sign-off.

The civilian representative was polite, but aloof. His mid-town office was small, and he explained that his law practice was limited to negotiating settlements with federal agencies as an arbitrator. He merely explained proposals and requested Ellie to sign some papers, indicating that she would be reunited with Ron if she agreed, under oath, to follow instructions he’d give her verbally to the letter.

He explained. During Ron’s rehabilitation, he volunteered for a new therapy that promised to provide a speedy recovery. He would be his old self again, as the therapy was very effective. The man told Ellie she would be pleased, because Ron was not only cured of his addition to alcohol, but he would seem to be a new man, with far fewer common faults of his past and he’d behave more positively toward her. In appreciation for Ron’s full recovery, she was not to disclose that Ron’s new approach to life was the result of therapy, not even to his dear friend, who was named specifically: a Dr. James Randolph, from Denver Colorado.

Meanwhile, Jim Randolph was back in Denver, frustrated for being requested by Ellie to not inquire any further about Ron’s treatment center. He had neglected his psychology practice too long and was busy catching up work he put off while visiting Ron and Ellie in San Diego for three weeks instead of one week.

On arriving at the office one morning the following month, he noticed a manila envelope on his desk. Inside was a letter from the associate in San Diego he tried to engage to treat Ron. The man wanted to convey recent findings on a neurolinguistic therapy that he came across involving the vagal nerve. Jim read on. A few government agencies were testing techniques to blot out unpleasant memories veterans of combat were plagued with long after the war was over.

The associate knew Jim was interested in helping out a friend who was having a marital problem that might have begun while he was still involved in the covert operations in the Pacific, so he suggested Jim look into published data about an obscure project called MKULTRA. Jim tried to remember where he had heard of that name before, but origins of it escaped him. His appointment schedule for the day was booked so solid, he set the brief letter aside, planning to file it away with other correspondence for future reference.

Jim wondered why the man didn’t send any specific details regarding the project. Surely, if he wanted to share his new discoveries that would benefit his patients, he would have sent along more detailed information. The envelope contained the short letter, and nothing more.

He almost filed it in the wastebasket, but then noticed that the letter didn’t come by regular mail. The manila envelope was addressed to him, marked confidential, and was sealed in a manner that would show if it had been tampered with prior to Jim’s receiving it. Why would the colleague send him a letter via a courier and why did it bear a confidentiality seal? He read the letter again and decided to look into the matter further at his earliest opportunity.

When the busy day ended, he scoured his textbooks for reference to MKULTRA.

After he found nothing of merit, he put in a call to his associate in San Diego.

"HI, Jim Randolph here. Received your --- oh. Sure. Call me back as soon as you are free to talk more about the ---- yes, it’s good to hear from you, too. I’m sorry that I didn’t follow up on the lunch I promised to buy you and want to apologize." Being cut short twice mid-sentence by the associate, Jim reasoned that he was being cautious for some reason and he shouldn’t mention the letter on the phone. Both men knew there was no prior lunch date planned. Jim understood that the subject of the letter was not to be raised on the telephone.

He waited patiently for the return call for over an hour. When the friend returned his call, he said that he wished he could have been of more help to let Jim use an office in his suite in San Diego on occasion, but his partners declined letting him extend the invitation due to a project they worked on. Then he paused. Jim took the cue and said he’d forgotten the matter, and didn’t want to put him out any.

"Next time you’re in town, stop by the office. You still owe me that lunch."

"I’ll do that. Thanks for reminding me. I’ll try to give you advance notice of when I’ll be in town, let’s say ----" Jim checked his calendar. --- "I’ll call you two weeks before I arrive. It should be on a Saturday morning, so you won’t have to clear your lunch docket. Would you be interested in playing a round of golf, instead?"

"That would be great. I usually try to play on a Saturday, when I get the chance. I’ve been busy lately. I could use a day off. There’s a great course that I could show you. I know you’ll love it. I don’t hit the links as often as I’d like to lately."

His friend knew damned well Jim didn’t play golf, as he flatly turned down a prior invitation. Still, the man told Jim much more than the brief conversation revealed should anyone be listening. Filled with a degree of intrigue and doubt, Jim left his office and went home to discuss the letter with Jean. Just to play it safe, he took the letter and envelope with him locked up in his attaché case.

Jean listened to Jim intently, as he explained the letter in his hand, and the call to his friend in San Diego, and the cryptic call he received back. "It was obvious that Larry is very concerned that he might put you in professional hot water if the calls were being monitored. You must go to San Diego and see him, Jim. He had to have contacted you from a phone he felt was safe, but wasn’t sure about yours."

"Yes, I must, Jean. No doubt this has something to do with Ron’s rehabilitation. Whatever he wants to tell me, must be done in person, away from any possible eavesdrop by someone he fears. I’ll meet him for golf a week from Saturday."

"Golf? You? What made him think you’d play a round of golf?"

"Yes, that’s how he wants to meet me: on a golf course. What the difference? I’ll meet with him in a kayak in Alaska, as long as he clears up this letter to me. My only question is: How can I go to San Diego, without raising suspicion? Meeting with Ellie will alert whoever is scaring the pants off of Dr. Heath that I’m onto something. Wait, I have an idea. I’ll plan to visit to the San Diego Zoo. It is one of the best in the country. No, I wouldn’t do that alone. I’d take you along."

"Too thin. How about checking into seminars. There’s always some being held in California to attract psychologists nationwide to participate, Jim."

"True, I can call Ellie and tell her I’ll be in town for one. That way, I’ll get a chance to drop by her house to see how she’s coping in Ron’s absence. You’d best stay behind in Colorado. I have a funny feeling about this. I don’t want you involved. After I return from San Diego, we’ll discuss what I learn from Larry Heath."

"Good. You ought to meet Dr. Heath if only to put this all behind you, once and for all. You act as if a boogieman is hiding behind every lamppost, honey. I’m sure there is nothing sinister to it. Let’s watch television. You’ve been working like a dog ever since we got back. You need a break, and I have just the thing to help you relax." She grabbed his groin and gave it a squeeze. They spent the evening on the floor in front of their "huge" sixteen-inch, black and white console, with all the lights in the house turned off. The shadows on the walls from their antics entertained neighbors who didn’t have television sets of their own.

 

The two men did nothing but play golf for over an hour on the chosen Saturday. Larry Heath was an avid golfer, but Jim held up the game on nearly every hole. By the fifth hole, they had let three twosomes and a foursome play through. As they approached the sixth tee, Larry Heath asked Jim whether he ever heard of a program called Bluebird, or one called Artichoke. Without waiting, he answered for Jim. "Of course you haven’t. How about Dr. James Hamilton from Vacaville? No, I suppose you never heard of him, either. Let’s stop after this hole. We’ll talk more on the way back to the clubhouse. You can’t golf worth a shit."

"Am I supposed to know them?"

"I think so. Before I say anything more, I want you to know I’ll deny everything if you should tell anyone I put you on to what I’m about to say to you."

Okay. Let’s play cloak and dagger. Stop beating around the bush, Larry."

"Well, you were at Tinian. The names I mentioned were involved in developing electromagnetic therapy using a temporal lobe stimulator and using radioactive isotope bombardment of limbic cortices. They accumulated some startling data about the men who went over to Japan to aid in the rescue efforts after the two bombs were dropped. A lot of good navy men needed psychiatric help after they returned from Japan. They suffered from repeated nightmares about seeing the people with skin burnt so bad it appeared to be melting away, no matter what they tried to do for the victims. Coming back to you now?"

 

"Never went to Japan. We came back to the states and were mustered out, right after the war ended. I went straight back to Denver to restart my private practice. Ron Richards was the only one who remained in the navy, stateside. Does this meeting have something to do with his drinking problem or the navy’s dilemma over the men who can’t sleep at night because they envision skin melting?"

"Yes, you could say both, but Ron Richard’s drinking was only the tip of a bigger iceberg that you apparently know nothing about. After Tinian, the navy wanted to erase the evidence of his mission. They use shock therapy to wipe it out of his brain. In a way, the treatments worked, but he was subject to outside influences. His love for his wife Ellie kept the doctors from blocking it out completely. So, to keep him from remembering something Ron must have known, that they didn’t want him to remember, they continued to treat him with psychotropic drugs and hypnosis to alter his interpretation of what occurred out there."

"Are you saying the navy brainwashed Ron?"

"Not the navy, per se, it was likely someone in the Defense Department.

"Aw, c’mon. What would Ron know that would get them involved? Larry, if this is some kind of joke, you put me to a lot of trouble, having me come back to listen to a harebrained story about spies and drugs and I don’t know what else. Where did you come up with this idea, in a comic book? How did you find out?"

"Okay. Forget it. I thought I was doing you a favor, seeing as how our wife was in it too. I was a part of initial efforts to make sure servicemen who were there and came back didn’t spread too much knowledge about the degree of devastation that occurred in Japan. They don’t want to alarm the general population with gruesome gore about bombs that kill people long after going off. Let’s skip it.

"Alright, Larry. I’m here. Let’s hear it all. How does this involve my wife?"

"She has resistance to radiation therapy, the kind they use on men to blot out part of their memory to protect them from having nightmares. On Tinian, she was treated with no ill effects. When the technique was used on others, some get cancer of the brain from the treatments. They don’t want that fact well known.

After the war, researchers used the data compiled from treating your wife and Ron’s wife to develop safer means to induce the memory voids, without inflicting the subjects with far worse problems later on.

Ron might have known what was going at Tinian. I doubt it, but the navy had to be sure and blocked that part the program out of his mind. He probably will feel responsible in some way, if his wife falls ill, so the navy continued to monitor his behavior to see how long the memory block they employed would last. His mind was in turmoil lately. With a devastating blow like discovering that you subjected your wife to untested nuclear radiation, how would you react?"

"My wife. How much exposure? Is she susceptible to getting brain cancer?"

"As far as I know? No. And, the information gained from her part in the research at Tinian is invaluable. That’s just the background, Jim. The main reason I asked you to meet with me is your friend Ron. He was released last week from the clinic at Vacaville. I thought you’d like to see firsthand the results of what they can do to the human mind. He’s been cured of his addiction, and behaves like a different person. He will wait on his wife hand and foot, and acts like nothing happened. You’re in for a surprise. You’ll understand better when you see him. It’s scary."

"What do you mean?"

"They can change a person’s behavior, Jim. Their present intentions may include creating a breed of living robot soldiers that will go into battle without any fear of personal sacrifice. Somehow, they must be stopped. Would you like your son to think he is invincible and go on a suicide mission, if that’s what his orders say?"

"Wait! What has this have to do with Ron? Is he some kind of zombie?"

"Not that you’d notice offhand, I understand they used an anchoring technique on Ron to bury his fears. With anchoring, they can separate a person’s self-identity, so that a second personality, one that has little or no knowledge of the other can take over the person’s routine functions. Think of it. With a working tool like that available, we can cure a lot of people of depression and schizophrenia, instead."

"What about the Hippocratic oath we took? Harm not as ye shall heal."

"Yes, I feel the same way you do. My firm has been involved to a degree, but we decided not to continue over ethics and resigned from the program. Meddling with a person’s identity is too dangerous. I personally didn’t get involved enough to find out how it’s accomplished. If I knew more, I’d be able to give you a better idea of the side effects it causes. That’s where you come in."

"Me? How?"

"Yes, Jim. I’m asking you to sell your practice in Denver and join us here in San Diego. We can make it worth your while. You have a close relationship with Ron and Ellie that our firm doesn’t have as of now. I know that you wouldn’t ever do a thing to harm them. In fact, you’d do whatever you can to help them, so don’t cop a plea because of ethics. We’re talking about your friends.

My firm only wants to find new ways to benefit patients through the latest clinical techniques available. We’d like you to maintain close contact and diagnose the both of them to determine the extent of the changes you note, nothing more."

"I’ll bet. Who instructed you to advise me about Ron’s recovery? Why should I trust you or your partners? How can I be sure what you’ve told me is true? Your story sounds as impossible as something Cornell Woolrich (murder mysteries of cases seemingly impossible to solve) would write. I’m not interested in relocating my practice to spy on my friends, Larry. If God himself asked, I wouldn’t betray a friend. What makes you think I would do it for money? I’d like to leave, right now. I don’t want to hear any more. Please return me to my car, Larry. I’m sorry, but you’re wasting your time. Find somebody else." Jim was fuming.

"Who said anything about betrayal? They’re your friends, Jim. I thought you would jump at a chance to help them out. I would if I were you."

"Well, you’re not me, and I don’t think helping them is what you have in mind. You want me to get involved in something that smacks of flagrant professional impropriety. Meddling with people’s minds without their knowledge is a far cry from responsible, ethical, psychological counseling. If there’s a grain of truth in what you just revealed, I’d steer clear, if I were you, Larry. You’re playing with fire. Let the government agencies do their thing. That’s why we elect responsible representatives to lead the country. I’d give them the courtesy of not interfering with their jobs. You must have a political axe to grind, so count me out!"

"These are trying times, Jim. World peace depends on people with the guts to do what they believe is right. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Have it your own way. I’m satisfied with getting what I wanted to say off my chest. If you’ll stick around for lunch, I promise to not mention you joining the firm again. Just think about what I told you and get back to me if you should change your mind. I wouldn’t tell Ellie or Ron about our conversation. It will only upset them and might do them more harm than good. Promise?"

"You can count on that. The average sane man would call for the men in white coats if they heard your story. Fortunately, I did come across the names of some of programs you mentioned. Not much available, but I think you need help."

"I do need help, Jim. Yours. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have taken the risk of contacting you in the first place. I could be in a lot of trouble if the wrong people get wind of our meeting, so I’d appreciate it if you keep what I told you to yourself…. Oh, and don’t worry. You’re in no danger. Go back to your nice, comfy practice in Denver and your charming wife. She’s tailor made for you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing, but ask Jean if she has heard from her "Uncle Josh" lately. If she remembers him, ask her about Dr. Cameron from the clinic on Tinian, or ask her about the book that Dr. Ferguson gave her to study. I’ll bet she won’t know what you are talking about. If you still think my story is a lot of hooey, ask your wife who introduced the two of you and why you were shipped halfway around the world to do little or nothing once you arrived at Tinian.

Don’t you feel it was odd that you were sent out there to interview B-29 crews, for trauma, but spent less than a month at it? Why were you shipped home so soon after the war ended? Weren’t most bomber crews you debriefed still there when you left Tinian in need of post-trauma counseling?"

"You’re boxing with shadows, Larry. Ron was able to squeeze us on a transport ship that took several hundred of us right here, to San Diego. Everyone was hot to trot to return home as quickly as possible. The damn war was over! We all wanted to go home and resume our lives, by whatever means were available."

"You were attached to the Army Air Corps. How is it you returned to San Diego on a ship for navy personnel? Doesn’t that seem a little strange?"

"I asked Ron to see if he could arrange it, so I could be with Jean. Because of his job he had the necessary pull to arrange an assignment in his unit, so I could be with them on the return voyage. My discharge was only a formality. To be honest, I was told the Corps’ concern for the bomber crews was overestimated. Few of the men suffered severe shock from going on bombing missions."

"Who arranged for you to be shipped to Tinian in the first place?"

"Ron. Hey, knew me since we were in high school and we got along well. The base needed another trauma psychologist, so Ron reached into his top hat and there I was, long, furry ears and all. I was commandeered for a specific duty. Where the hell did you get your information? You seem to know more about my duties than I did. Meeting my wife Jean was a lucky chance for me.

Hell, I was a ninety-day wonder, not a career man. The job was over when the war ended. I heard there were close to sixteen million men at arms, one tenth of the nation’s population mustered out in the same three months. I was one of the lucky ones to come home early."

"Who are you trying to convince, Jim?"

"Naw! It can’t be. Yet, when you think about it, there were a few occasions I felt I was being led along. No, I would have sensed it. If they wanted me to be a part of some experiment, they wouldn’t have mustered me out. Why would they want me involved, without my knowing it? I’m a psychologist."

"Bingo! Where did you go when Ron was about ready to crack?"

"I went to see you. I was too late to help, though. While I was talking to you, Ron got busted and hauled off to detox."

"Seems that the government stepped in, just when you decided to seek help for Ron’s mental fatigue. After you left town, I started digging through our old files. Fortunately, we kept them after we walked out on the program because we were against mind altering on ethical principles. Jim, you’ll have to trust what I told you is true. We chose to walk away without lodging a protest to the techniques used, when we should have participated, just to make sure the zealous government psychologists weren’t tampering with minds of people for unscrupulous reasons.

We’re now pegged as opposing their research and can’t get near the project. You can. Use your wife’s concern for her friend Ellie as the reason for you coming to San Diego to set up a practice. I have enough friends in town who don’t practice psychology who are willing to refer patients to you, if I decline them. You may try to land a teaching position to enhance your background. Call it a sabbatical. Call it whatever you like, but don’t turn you back on your friends. I won’t make contact with you again. You’ll have to contact me when you have concrete evidence we can take to the Attorney General to call for a complete investigation."

"Tell me those names to ask Jean about, again."

"That’s the spirit."

Jim stayed for lunch, and gleaned what her could to prepare for confronting his wife and helping his friends. He learned that a nonsensical key was implanted in the memory of subjects to memories to initiate a trance. Once in a trance, they could be questioned easily. He studied hypnosis in school, but doubted the ease of use was as effective proponents claimed they were. What Larry explained was far more intricate and probed the mind to a greater degree, enabling the operator to block out an entire period of time, replacing it with a fictitious set of "facts".

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three.

 

 

Upon his arrival at home in Denver, Jim questioned Jean. She answered all of his questions negatively. She didn’t know anyone named "Josh". Nor did she remember a Dr. Cameron, or a Dr. Ferguson, the others. She recalled no book on biology that Dr. Ferguson gave her to study. Larry Heath wasn’t exaggerating. Jean had been brainwashed. His first inclination was to find the key to unlocking her memory. With it, he would reverse the block and restore her memory.

Jean willingly let Jim hypnotize her. Once under, she became cooperative, but would not discuss her mission on Tinian. Try as he might, she would not reply to his questions. After his third attempt to force her to reply, she collapsed into a deep sleep from which he was unable to awaken her. Her vital signs began to deteriorate. After unsuccessful attempts to revive her, Jim’s check of her vital signs caused him to assume she was lapsing into a coma.

Jim rushed her to the hospital and called a specialist he knew that occasionally used hypnosis to negate recognition or post-surgical pain, once the anesthetics used wore off. The specialist gave Jim a foreboding look after examining Jean.

"Before you put her under, you should have called me. Hypnosis isn’t a toy to be used to suggest a subject should be more willing to perform certain tasks that are contrary to their basic convictions. If your wife were reluctant to provide you with any sex thrills in a conscious state, she would continue to resist while in a trance. Your continuing to make unacceptable demands of her while she was in a deep sleep could cause her mind to shut down completely."

"Whoa! I didn’t, Mark, honestly. She offered to let me help her recover a part of her past of which she has no recollection, when I questioned her about things that she should have remembered, but couldn’t. I’ve hypnotized other subjects before, but this never happened. Could she have been affected by post-hypnotic suggestions from a prior trance?"

"It’s possible. However, to induce a coma, the prior trance would have had to be a lot deeper than we can achieve without using drugs that cause a person’s will to become dormant. I have yet to have a need for using such drastic measures, so I don’t have the type of drugs used available, Jim. I’ll only use them with your signed authorization, and a release of liability, because I will refuse to be held responsible afterwards. If the prior trance holds precedence to her current one, she may lose more of her memory, a lot more. We could induce total amnesia.

Furthermore, she could respond by introducing a new persona, a fake one."

"I studied DID (Dual Identity Disorder) in school, but never came across a case in the field, Mark. My practice is limited to traumatic self-recrimination and handling patients with low self-esteem disorders. This is way out of my league. Have you seen cases like Jean’s before?"

"Not often, but a few. Intentionally inducing a coma can be achieved, if a prior practitioner wanted the subject to become catatonic when questioned under duress. Our CIA and others in foreign countries, with similar needs for insuring absolute secrecy, use such triggers to prevent their captured operatives from disclosing the purpose of a mission to an enemy interrogator.

I don’t see how it would apply to your wife. If she had a background that would suggest ---"

"She was at Tinian when we dropped the bombs on Japan, Mark. Some other incidents happened recently to prompt me to ask her some questions regarding her involvement. If I had known this would happen, I wouldn’t have put her under.

All I want to do now is have her recover. I’ll never use hypnosis again, without my having someone with a lot of experience on hand to guide me."

"I’m afraid I will have to contact the CIA and NSA. If there is a case file on your wife, they will advise me of how to proceed, or take over. They may send out a caseworker to administer a set of procedures to help her recover without allowing us to take part. We have to contact them. Until then, there is nothing you or I can do to bring her out of her coma."

"I’d rather not trouble the government, Mark."

"Nor would I. Do you have an alternate suggestion? Leave it to me. I studied the advanced use of neurolinguistic programming under Dr. Greene, at Tulane. He might be of some help. I’ll contact him first, if not, Dr. Orne at Edgewood Arsenal. He may suggest a few common anchors used. One of those might work on Jean. If I contact Dr. Orne, I’ll need to know more about what her work at Tinian was."

 

Jim stayed at Jean’s bedside all through that night. Dr. Mark Trowen stopped in the following morning while on his rounds. Jean’s vital signs had remained stable all through the night. Dr. Trowen was confident she was in no further danger. He received a reply to his phone call to Dr. Orne. Jean’s file was declassified was all that he learned. A government caseworker was assigned and would soon be in contact with Dr. Trowen to assist in treating Jean.

That afternoon, Jim fell into a fitful sleep in a chair due to extreme stress and the nightlong vigil at his wife’s side. When he awoke, the shadows of evening filled the room. To his astonishment, Jean was awake and sitting up in her bed."

"Dr. Trowen was here, dear. He explained what happened. I’m fine. I hope that I didn’t give you a terrible fright."

Jim jumped up ran to her side and kissed her. "Oh, Jean. You did. I was stupid to meddle in hypnosis with you. I might have done you grievous harm."

"Nonsense. A government caseworker helped Dr. Trowen to bring me out of the deep sleep I was in. I was in no danger. Besides, it was all for the good. I can remember those people that you asked me about, now. It came to me as I was awakening. Uncle Josh is a retired admiral. Dr. Ferguson gave me a book to read that explained some new nuclear therapies that were developed from research initiated by my dad. My dad was cited in the book several times. I didn’t know my dad was famous. For the life of me, I can’t understand why I couldn’t remember the book or the purpose for the isolated clinic where I was assigned on Tinian or the four researchers who were searching for ways to enhance human resistance to radiation, like the resistance I have to it.

Dad’s testosterone shots were responsible. Low doses of irradiated hormones I received over a long period of time enabled me to not incur as much reaction to short periods of direct exposure to low levels of radiation without ill effects. Ellie was my control subject. We were used because we were both sterile."

"Then it is true. You were brainwashed after serving on Tinian."

"I was? No! I only had a memory lapse because of the nature of work being done there. That’s what Dr. Trowen said. I tried to forget about being involved when I heard how many people died from the atomic bombs dropped on Japan. My mind wanted me to forget that I took part in it. Being brainwashed means a person’s will to oppose someone or something is shut off. I don’t recall anyone forcing me to do something against my will, Jim. I think you are overreacting."

"Could be. Could be. Can you leave the hospital?"

"Not until tomorrow. Dr. Trowen wants to keep me in for observation, just in case I lapse back into a deep sleep again. If it happens after we leave, he and a lady caseworker will tell you how to bring me out of it. They said it requires a simple procedure they will teach you. They don’t want you to hypnotize me again and not be able to bring me out of a trance."

"The key."

"What key?"

"Before a hypnotist brings a subject out of a trance, he can provide a key that will make the subject follow prescribed suggestions. If you ever watched a hypnotist in a stage act, you might have seen him suggest someone feel very cold when he is told a certain phrase, or someone does something in his presence. It’s know popularly as posthypnotic suggestions."

"I’ve seen that before. The hypnotist made a man bark like a dog, and another was unable to walk back to his seat when the hypnotist hollered ‘FREEZE!’"

"Exactly. In your case, you were unable to remember facts about what occurred on Tinian, because it was classified at the time. It must no longer be important, or I’m afraid you still would not have remembered them, dear."

"I remember how hard your cock gets when I play with it. Why don’t you put a chair under the doorknob and hang a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door. Let’s see how this adjustable bed can be tilted to improve the angle of attack. I’m hornier than a virgin at a nudist camp. I need you inside of me, dear."

The caseworker in an adjacent room, eavesdropping on the couple, smiled and shut off the recorder. She was satisfied Jim would not try to pursue action against the government for the use of hypnosis without Jean’s prior consent. The woman preferred not to listen to the pair making love. A couple indulging in the rights of marital sex was a sacred event to her, which was not to be imposed upon without due cause. Her supervisor wasn’t interested in hearing audiotapes of two people copulating, either. His interest was limited to Jim’s ability to bring Jean out of a trance, if the need for it ever arose.

One more case of imposed secrecy, which was no longer necessary, was soon to be closed. Jean was no longer any possible threat to our national security. Her knowledge regarding protecting bomb purveyors from high does of radiation was since published and became common knowledge within academic circles. In fact, public service announcements distributed by the official arms of the government were played regularly in schools and in public forums to advise the public how to "Duck And Cover" in the event of a nuclear attack and our military personnel in the line of fire were well trained on "washing techniques" to rid themselves of the surface contamination from irradiated particles.

Jean’s previous vulnerability to abduction by foreign operatives for the purpose of extracting secret information from her no longer existed. Rapid advances in a few short years in nuclear research surpassed her limited knowledge’s value.

The following morning, Dr. Mark Trowen gave Jim a key phrase to release Jean from the eradicable post-hypnotic suggestion. To ensure his ability to urge Jean back to the realm of reality, he put her into a deep trance under the supervision of Dr. Trowen and the government caseworker.

The woman was antsy to move on to her next assignment and left the hospital soon after the test trance was successful. The key phrase was: pedantic infusion milk correlations, four unrelated words.

Jim was now armed with a means to help his old friend Ron, with a complete, successful run-though of the procedure under his belt. If he only had the phrase that was used on Ron, he could dig further into the covert operations conducted within Ron’s unit on Tinian, before he was parked in limbo at San Diego.

Jim spent weeks of serious soul-searching. He wasn’t about to draw attention to Ron and Ellie or cause them to lose their retirement and medical benefits. After thorough reflection, he decided to tuck the experience he gained by using deep hypnosis on Jean away in the back of his mind and forget about Larry Heath and the man’s recent offer to relocate his psychology practice to San Diego. National security was a good enough reason to rationalize the government’s use, not his.

He felt the government did the right thing, protecting Jean by altering a small part of her memory to inure her from potential harm from an enemy. Foreign interests wouldn’t be able to pry secrets from her, without the key phrase available. Now, the government was willing, no, eager to rid her of the memory block, once the issue was of no further strategic value. She never had to worry about betraying her country by providing the wrong people with what were once important military secrets accidentally. Why should Jim or anyone else condemn the government’s use of an effective means to prevent foreign interests from gaining access to vital government secrets?

The same goes for Ron. No doubt, he was privy to a lot of classified information that would be of use to foreign interests. Ron’s duties in the Pacific likely gave him access to a variety of data that the country’s enemies might love to get their hands on. Jim felt he’d best leave resolving Ron’s recent erratic behavior in the hands of Ron’s superiors, and not interfere. His latest update on Ron indicated he returned to Ellie, a new man. That was proof enough the government acted in the best interests of all and wasn’t treating citizens like dirt.

 

Jean took a phone call from Ellie one evening, and the two women firmed up all the details regarding the next semi-annual visit. Jim sat patiently, listening to one side of the conversation. Jean asked him questions. He answered. Normal terms of marital bliss predominated. She planned, he nodded assent. He was anxious to meet up with his old pal, without the aura of a foreboding disaster looming over them like what had happened the last time they met in San Diego.

The couple arrived in a new ’54 Ford hardtop in pink, white and black. Ron was proud of his new, powerful car, and claimed that the back seat was ideal for the spooning at local drive-in theatres. He was the old Ron again, full of zest for life.

The tiny baby in Ellie’s arms arrived a month earlier than was expected. It was now possible to easily attribute the infant’s male parentage to the girl’s fiancé, but the mother’s mental condition still remained critical. Ellie’s voiced cracked with dismay as she referred to the girl’s condition. She was choked up when she told Jim and Jean that the girl was still filled with delusions. Her attending psychiatrist was not predicting full recovery in the foreseeable future. Her tale of woe put a blanket on their meeting, so they went inside the house and Jim reflected on the apparent joyful mood of his guests, in spite of the girl’s condition.

Ron’s attitude certain changed for the good. He was attentive to Ellie; courteous to a fault with Jean and Jim, and the scowl Jim remembered seeing on Ron’s face during their last visit was replaced by beaming joviality. It seemed to Jim the government cure of Ron’s addiction to alcohol was far better than he would have imagined. Jim took Ellie aside after Jean begged Ellie to let her hold the baby.

"Is it safe for us to have a drink in front of Ron?"

"Oh, sure! He’ll probably have one too, if you ask him if he wants one. He doesn’t have a need to continue drinking until he’s in a stupor, like he did before his cure.

The best part of his recovery is that he doesn’t have to be afraid of having a few. He can drink socially, but I doubt if he’ll want more than two. He knows alcohol is a depressant and shies away from it better than you or I can."

"Doesn’t that seem odd to you?"

"Yeah, but I’m not complaining. I’d rather Ron was able to have one or two than have to worry about keeping alcohol around the house, or if Ron’s seeing others drink would cause him to slip back into the terrible state he was in before he went away for the cure. Seeing him happy, as a lark is wonderful. Don’t you agree?"

"I sure do, but it defies everything I’ve learned about physical dependency."

"Well, the navy detoxification program made recent strides in that regard. From what I was told, Ron is more resistant to alcohol addition than the average man. It’s nice not to have to worry about how he’ll flare up after a few drinks. Now, he gets mellow, and he wants to cuddle after a few. His interest in sex doubled, and I love it. He no longer resents my having sex with other men before we met. Not only that, but he’ll let me be the dominant partner in our love making, if I ask."

"Hmm. Remind me to inquire into the navy detox program, next time we visit you in San Diego. I’d like all the information about it I can get."

"Oh, didn’t Jean tell you? We’re not returning to San Diego. We sold the house and plan to move to anywhere the weather is mild, all year round. Ron wants to get away from the naval base. It brings back too many old memories.

His career is over, so he’d rather not see men in uniforms everywhere we turn. We’re going to tour the country. After we leave here, we’re headed east. There’s a new fad called camping we’re dying to try out. Private resorts for campers are springing up in addition to improved facilities at the national and state parks. It’s in vogue, and people are flocking in droves to breathe the fresh air outside of our nation’s overcrowded cities.

In fact, Ron and I were planning to discuss it with Jean and you. Why not join us. Take a year off from working and park your precious practice on hold while you have the chance. You won’t have to worry about money, either. Our baby’s trust fund yields sufficient income to support all of us, besides our baby."

"Ellie, I think traveling the country would be great, but I can’t do that. It took me close to ten years to build up a profitable practice. I’m not about to let it vanish through my negligence, now. Maybe, after a few more years, we’ll be able to squeeze in an extended vacation. Will that suffice?"

"In a few more years? Did you ever ask Jean what she’d like to do?"

"Not exactly. I’m the breadwinner. A wife has to be willing to follow her husband’s career. Practicing psychology is my life’s ambition. Look how happy our life has been. She’s content to be a loving homemaker for me, now. Why should we do anything to upset what took us years to accomplish? We’re not out of the woods, yet economically. There’s still a hefty mortgage on our house."

"You men. You all think with your heads up your Asses. Some psychologist you are. I’ll bet you never once asked Jean whether she wants a house and garden right now more than she wants to see what our vast country has to offer. Bricks and mortar aren’t the only things that make a girl happy, you know. Families are important, but you two don’t have kids to haul off to the school they are enrolled in every day. The day will come when you won’t be as free to roam. Why be tied down to a house when it isn’t necessary and you still have the mobility to travel where and when you please?"

"Look at her, Ellie! She looks like she’s in heaven holding your baby. After you and Ron made private arrangements to foster the child, Jean’s been dropping hints to me about our doing likewise. I’ve been wondering how long it will take her to do more than hint at it. Since we visited you, a few things have happened to make me take stock of what we both want out of life. I expect Jean to start nagging me about having kids of our own to raise."

Their conversation incited Ron and Jean’s attention. "What are you two up to?"

"Never mind. We’re conspiring to run off together and leave you two behind to raise little Janet." Ellie replied mockingly.

She turned back to Jim. "By the way, how’s Jasmine?"

"She hasn’t been around lately. Why do you ask? The way Ron feels about it, I wasn’t going to bring her up. She caused too much trouble, last time."

"Get ready for a surprise. Ron mentioned her on the way here. He seemed to be more than interested in seeing her again. Better see if she has anything in her wardrobe to wear on an instant’s notice. Ron is wearing panties under his male clothes. Perhaps Jasmine would like to show Ron some of her finery." Jim looked over to Ron who seemed to have kept an ear open to their conversation, without ignoring Jean. Jean was in her own little world, with Janet in the center of it. Ron was smiling at Jim. Ron’s eyebrows perked up. Jim surveyed him with caution.

"Well, I’ll be! Are you serious?" Ron nodded slowly to Jim. The realization that his friend was no longer adverse to men masquerading as women slowly sank in.

Jean’s head rose up, as her brain caught up the conversation. "What was that? Did I hear you right, Ellie? Ron is wearing women’s panties? For real?

They all laughed. Ron blushed as he admitted to it by nodding his head, as Ellie explained. "Marie snitched on him, after doing the laundry. The number of pairs in the wash didn’t match the number of people who should be wearing them, so she asked me if someone was visiting that she wasn’t aware of, or a neighbor had me sew fringes on several pairs of new panties she had found in the wash.

They were the cutest tings you ever saw. They all had ruffles or lace fringes. In my wildest imagination, I’d never wear anything so dainty. Show Jim your panties Ron." Ron stood up, red in the face and loosened his belt. He turned and flashed his red lace panties to Jim. Sure enough, they had rows of lace ruffles across the wide expanse of his ass.

"I figured ‘when in Rome; ---‘. Let’s see what you are wearing, Jim."

"Boxers, I’m afraid." It was Jim’s turn to blush.

"Well!" Ellie calmly instructed Jim to go change, so they’d all be dressed in an equally feminine manner, and to take Ron along with him. Her tone of voice indicated she wasn’t interested in hearing Jim decline her firm request.

For a moment, Jim hesitated, then, seeing his wife staring at him, expecting for him to comply with Ellie recommendation, he rose and left the room with Ron in tow. Ellie smiled at Jean as the men departed. "Ron has been so cooperative, of late. He has overcome his fear of being dominated by me. In fact, he prefers to have someone else be the dominant influence, since his recovery." Ron took a valise along as the two men disappeared up the stairs together.

"Should Jim be afraid Ron would think less of him for acceding to your demands?

The last time, Ron browbeat Jim pretty bad for daring to wear a dress."

"Ron’s not the same, Jean. I think Jim will be pleased with Ron as he discovers what Ron has become. Ron wants to make me happy so much; he wants to atone for his berating my male origins so earnestly, he’s assumed some startling new traits. Jim’s about to discover that Ron is also wearing a bandeau to hide the two new assets he acquired.

He wanted to arrive here en femme, but I told him it would be more fun to spring his remarkable changes on Jim, in a private setting. He took a valise up with him that is full of his new attire. His former staunch reluctance to wear feminine things was due to his fear of losing his masculinity, as was our fate. He feared the navy would emasculate him, if they discovered he might be inclined to put on a pair of panties at my request. Can you believe such nonsense?"

"What did the navy do to Ron to change his impression?"

"I don’t know. Whatever it was, he no longer fears becoming a victim of reprisal for his empathy toward my changes. I told him that he’d understand how I had to accept wearing women’s clothing for the rest of my life better, if he tried to do it himself. He didn’t hesitate, and shocked me by asking me if I’d teach him to do all the things Jim was willing to do for you. How could I refuse him? Now, the four of us ‘girls’ will be able to go out on the town on a spree, to enchant men that get to see us, and have a ball turning their advances down."

"What if Ron doesn’t choose to turn down all of the advances he gets from men. Have you thought about that possibility?"

 

"Certainly. You had a few offers you didn’t decline, before you were able to offer a man access to your manufactured pleasure pit. Why can’t Ron do likewise?"

"You’d let Ron fellate a man, Ellie?"

"What’s so terrible about a hum job? We’ve done it, haven’t we?"

"We’re women, for God’s sake!"

"Jean. How long has it been? Have you forgotten your origin?"

"No, but we are women, for all intents and purposes. We can’t be considered men anymore by any stretch of the imagination. The essential plumbing is gone! Do you want Ron to go through what we had to endure? Do you want to turn him into one of us? I think that would be terribly cruel of you"

"Not at all. I merely would like Ron to experience how radically our lives had to change, because of accidents that led to our emasculations. Jim can behave like a lovely woman whenever the mood strikes him. I want Ron to be able to share in feminine interests, as well. Your man does it, why not mine?"

"Jim’s interest is only an infrequent fetish. I hope you won’t push Ron to have any physical modifications the both of you will regret someday. Without having Jim’s hefty appendage to fill me up, I’d be at a loss. Please don’t do anything to Ron’s."

"I’ll accept what Ron feels is necessary. I’d miss his ability to wave his wand and use it to give me multiple orgasms, but I won’t deny him the right to choose what he feels is appropriate. That’s his prerogative. The whole world would be a much happier place if everyone could choose the gender that was closer to the way a person feels inside. I wish I could change back to being a man. I can’t, so there is no point my crying over spilt milk. If I were a man, and Ron wanted to become my woman, I see no reason for him not doing what he could to correct the error. We care for each other so deeply, nothing else matters, as long as we have each other. I’ll take Ron, with all of his faults and all of his desires. I love him, Jean.

I stuck by Ron when he was a filthy, no good souse. He hurt my feelings deeply, many times. Yet, when we’re lie in bed together, the world and its problems go away, as we cling to each other for all we’re worth. I’d walk on hot coals for him.

 

I’m not sure I can express myself adequately about they way I feel about Ron. All I know is: I need Ron more than anything else. It may have something to do with my marine training. Back In boot camp, we were beaten into the ground until we felt totally worthless. The Corps rebuilt us into lean, mean, fighting machines. We felt our duty to God and country was more important than life itself. Our primary goal was to protect each other to ensure the success of our assigned missions."

"I know, Ellie. I was once a ‘boot’ too, you know."

"Sure, a wartime ‘boot’. You were handed an M-1 rifle and taught how to charge an offensive without fearing the enemy. You were a war marine, the best-trained assault weapon in the world. I was a career soldier. Semper Fi! I expected to be a marine until the day that I died for the Corps. When my balls were blown off, I wished I had. My life, as I had known it, had little purpose left. Until I met my Ron, I was dedicated solely to sacrifice my life to perform my mission.

At Pearl, I was marking time, giving front-bound guys the sex thrill of their lives. You were my military assignment. I was ‘gung ho’ and I would gladly kill or die to save your silly neck, Jean, because it was my assignment, no questions asked. In a way, I still would, but not in the way I’d die for my Ron. As much as I do care for you, I’d chop you up in little pieces, if it meant my saving his sorry ass. Am I shocking with my revelation? I hope so, because I want you to understand just how much I love him. I’d do anything in the world for that darling man."

"I can understand, Ellie. I feel that way abut Jim, but I don’t see how I’d ever have to do anything that drastic for him. Nor do I feel you would, Ellie. Why are you in such a weird frame of mind? Did I say something to make you think you shouldn’t feel the way you do about him?"

"You cautioned me against letting Ron change physically. It’s not up to you or me to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do. If Ron decides he wants to be like us, that’s his business. Did you interfere with Jim’s fetish when yu learned of it?"

"No, but my history helps me deal with why Jim might want to appease me by his dressing up for me. He does it to share my fate. By dressing up as ‘Jasmine’, Jim can feel closer to me. I don’t mind. I think it is big of Jim to let me know that he’d do things he wouldn’t otherwise to tell me he loves me."

"Would you feel the same if you knew Jim or Ron did it for another reason?"

"I don’t think so. Are you saying one or the other or both want to know what it is like to have a man make passionate love to them?"

"No, but that might be one way they could use the experience of masquerading as women. Something far more complex than a mischievous penchant for my underwear happened to Ron while he was away at the detox center."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for one, he decided we should sell our house and start to travel, right after we had the whole place torn up and remodeled to accommodate Marie, her baby, and Janet. Why would he do an about-face suddenly? It didn’t make any sense.

Then there was the incident with the psychologist that Jim recommended. Ron saw him once, just to assure the man he was feeling fine and had no need for the services of a psychologist. After Ron met him, Ron said the man was arrested, charged with treason, and disappeared, along with his firm’s partners, and some others who were in other cities across the country.

The newspapers later claimed a team of CIA agents uncovered an alleged spy ring operating in San Diego. A picture of a man by the name of Dr. Larry Heath, who I believed was Jim’s psychologist friend, was on the front page. There was no mention of Ron in the news article, but his former boss at the naval base was credited for exposing the ring, which was tied in with foreign espionage. I was worried that Jim might have done something terrible, but Ron didn’t seem think he did. Ron didn’t want me to fret over it, and later told me that Jim couldn’t have been involved in the spy ring. He didn’t say how he knew, though.

I have a feeling Ron isn’t really retired, Jean, but he isn’t talking to me about any of it. Now, I don’t know if I should bother him with how I feel. I was hoping you knew something to help prove Jim isn’t somehow connected to the psychologist that was arrested in San Diego."

 

"Wow! That’s something. Right after we returned from San Diego -----" Jean told Ellie about the letter Jim received, his trip to meet with the man, and all about the questions Jim asked her upon his return. She also informed Ellie about her being hypnotized and ending up in a hospital, but nothing about the man being a spy.

Just when she finished telling her about the government caseworker, ‘Jasmine’ appeared on the staircase with ‘Ronalie’ in tow. In spite of Ron’s size, his new assets preceded him down the stairs, as if they were spouting from Jim’s ears, as his hand rested on Jim’s shoulder, keeping him from tripping in his spike heels.

Jean was shocked. Gone was the bravado that proclaimed he would never be caught dead in women’s clothes. "My Lord! I can’t believe my eyes! If I hadn’t known the two of you left the room together, I would never have guessed. Is that really you in a dress, Ron?"

"No, not now. Friends know me as Ronalie. I may have a slight resemblance to a close friend of yours, but a girl like me is often mistaken for someone else." Even the voice was very different, now a low sexy murmur that reeked of sensuous femininity. Somehow, Ron had changed indeed, while he was in detox. "Jasmine and I had a nice long talk upstairs while we were fixing our makeup.

He was a big help in rounding up a nasty group of men in San Diego. I’ve been permitted to extend the thanks of a grateful government agency for his part in breaking up the effort to embarrass our country and extract information about the activities conducted in secret since Tinian. It’s time you lean the whole story.

Some time long after we arrived back in San Diego in ‘45, I suspected that I was being followed as I went about my daily business. I reported the frequent tails to my superiors and was advised to not attempt to intercept them. After a while I was told that agents were assigned to keep track of me, to determine who might show an interest in what I was doing at the time, I was still assigned to a covert activity group; although I had nothing of merit assigned to me.

I was instructed to take no action of any kind that might alert those following me that I was aware of their presence. I couldn’t even let Ellie know what was going on. This went on for over a year and was giving me the creeps. Still, I was told to follow orders. When Ellie began being tailed, I became more concerned. She was a civilian. Why would someone be tracking her? She wasn’t part of what I was doing, which was to preserve secrecy of atomic bomb components. Certain scientists wanted others in the world to know how it worked, so we would not be the only nation with the potential of wielding its power across the globe.

Ellie’s her new life held little reason for her to be tailed. Why spies were keeping an eye on her had to have been related to her activities at Tinian or Pearl, which included you, Jean, and possibly Jim. I advised my superiors of the potential for a tie-in to what we were doing back then and they agreed with my assessment.

Jim’s return to practice in Denver should have deterred Jim as being a target, but it didn’t. Likewise, if the interest were solely due to Jean’s radiation resistance, a tail on her movements would have been a likelier expectation. She wasn’t being followed. Why? We don’t know. Jim was the target, and I wasn’t worried about his patriotic loyalty. I doubted he would provide an enemy with anything of value, leastwise, not intentionally. The likelihood was remote as far as I was concerned.

My confidence wasn’t universally accepted as cause for Jim to be recruited to be made aware of what was going on. In fact, his knowledge and participation might make him more vulnerable. Then, our agents discovered his dual personality, by seeing Jasmine appear out of nowhere, in the company of Jean. Armed with this new information, I had to pose as a complete ass in front of Ellie for months, and in front of the two of you in order to convince you all that I was rapidly losing my mind and becoming a worthless alcoholic, headed for a breakdown.

I’m sorry I had to deceive the lot of you, but it was a necessary evil to have you firmly believe I was in a tailspin. Our plan was to use my rapid decline in stability to prompt a high-level operative to surface and get to Jim. Our efforts to date had failed to discover this guy: Larry Heath’s identity.

He made contact with Jim previously through common professional organization membership and the two made a passing acquaintance that Jim used to come to my aid. Jim was unaware of the man’s true intentions. The sly ploy worked. The San Diego practitioner was not suspected to be anything other than a true fellow practitioner, until he sent Jim a brief letter via a private courier. Jim wasn’t aware we knew when it arrived at his office and one of our agents took a picture of it by using a master key to open his attaché case. We had to let Jim independently arrange to meet with the man secretly. Leastwise, the two golfers thought it was a secret meeting. Amazing how far a portable transmitter planted in a golf cart is able to send a clear message to a trained operator. A lapel mike on a man in the foursome at the next table in the clubhouse sent a clear signal to the receiver in the kitchen. Even the din in the clubhouse didn’t obscure your conversation. Jim.

Jim thought I was about to be canned from the military for my behavior and met with the man to find out if he knew what happened to me, in order to come to my aid. Instead, the guy tried to get Jim to reveal info from Jean about recollections of what she was doing on Tinian. He knew was it blocked out of her mind, so she could continue her life without providing an enemy with any vital secrets. Still, he knew Jim was talented enough to hypnotize her, hoping he could penetrate the memory block. Mind you, the block was put there only to protect Jean.

Once the foreign agent surfaced, tracking him back to his other associates was a routine matter, and we were able to connect the local ring to others units located across in the country from records we obtained when we discovered the site of their ringleader’s lair. Unlike most citizens, these people were willing to betray the country for profit. If Jim decided to not keep his golf date, we might well have not caught the ring and still be plagued with an unknown peril working against us."

Jim let ‘Ronalie’ finish her lengthy tale without interrupting. Ellie and Jean sat in their seats speechless. "That still doesn’t account for your appearance tonight."

"Oh, do you mean all this?" Ron’s hands moved along his lithe body to boldly emphasize his radically changed torso. There was no doubt his partially exposed breasts were not due to mere padding. "I didn’t need to be dried out at the detox unit as you were led to believe. Since my male identity is in foreign hands now, and my cover in San Diego is now useless, I decided to adopt a new identity to continue my work with an infinite potential for modification."

"I thought Ellie said you retired?" Piped Jean, catching her breath.

"I did. My naval career is history. I’m free to continue my career with new branch of the government that promised me to employ my many talents in very exciting assignments. If you two should want to join up with Ellie and me, think of all the fun we will have while traveling to new, interesting places, and seeing the whole country when we aren’t busy working on assignments. Best of all, we’ll be well paid and all of our living expenses will be paid as well.

We’ll never know where the government may want to send us next. Of course, we’ll all need total makeovers, and Jim will need to lose his dark beard shadow. Otherwise, we’ll be a pair of couples with a child in tow one month, and four girls enjoying a vacation the next, and, well, the range of possibilities that come to my mind is simply endless, and the sexual variations we could sample are equally diverse, if we should happen to care exploring into that realm."

"Ronalie! You devil!" It was Ellie’s turn to express her chagrin.

"Well, honey. You weren’t behaving so innocently at Pearl. What is good for the goose is good, regardless of who is doing the goosing at the moment and who it is that is getting goosed. You and Jean aren’t the only ones that can perch on the fence. Jim and I can play the same game and I’m dying to find out how willing he is, now that we don’t have to worry about appearances to our close neighbors. Leastwise, we don’t if our seams are straight and our makeup doesn’t run. I can imagine we’ll find many interested young men in our travels that I’d like to invite into our trailer. With Jean’s help, maybe we can convince Jim to let loose a little."

Jean took Jim by the arm and looked into his mascara-enhanced eyes. "If I have anything to say in the matter, Jim’s going to learn what it’s like to feel nine inches of hard meat penetrating his lips tonight, Ron. If you had second doubts before, honey, you’d better speak up, because Ronalie is about to take you back up to our bedroom to introduce you to Sapphic reciprocation."

"Uh, I don’t think Jim will put up too much of a struggle, Jean. I had the pleasure of convincing Jim to join the team while I was upstairs getting dressed with him watching. A girl can’t make her debut with something obvious spoiling the image she wants to project to her dear friends. When he was down on his knees looking under ‘Jasmine’s bed for a pair of heels he wanted to wear, I surprised him with what I was hiding in between my legs.

It wasn’t hard to convince him he’d enjoy the experience.

Seeing my new breasts inside of a sexy bra already excited him and my slightly exaggerated hips wrapped in silk panties caused his ardor to show firmly a few minutes earlier. I must confess, I took full advantage of the situation without your permission and availed myself of his proud manhood. It wouldn’t be polite for Jim to refuse me the same honor, once I relieved his tension. He was a bit reluctant, but I wasn’t to be denied, and he performed marvelously, while giving and being given oral gratification, for a new recruit. I’m sure he’ll be a well-trained veteran in no time, Jean."

Jean asked if it was possible for the five of them to include a trip to Omaha in the near future while they roamed the country, seeing it’s majestic sights. She felt she neglected seeing her family for far too long….

 

Finis.

 

 

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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.