Trick or Treat?

by Enigma

Part 3

 

Thursday, September 17

By Thursday afternoon, I had my work to the point I was ready to turn it back to the testers, but decided I could wait for morning. I cleaned myself up, applied makeup in the sexiest way I knew how, donned a lacey black bra and panty set, garter belt, and black stockings. I covered it with the sheerest robe Amy had, and went to the kitchen to fix a romantic dinner for my wife.

When she walked through the door, I was waiting, and pulling her to me, breast to breast, I gave her the most passionate kiss we had shared all week.

"Mmmmm. That was nice! Wow, look at you! Sexy!" So I repeated the kiss. "So what's the occasion?"

"Oh, I've just been too tied up all week fixing my coding problem to pay you the attention you deserve, so I want to make it up to you."

"OK." And she gave me one of those searing kisses in return.

"Let's eat."

"Later," she said, and tugged me toward our bedroom.

When we got there, I told her to stand still, then proceeded to slowly open buttons, and remove bits of clothing, stroking each inch of revealed skin as I went. As I knelt and removed her pantyhose, I could smell her arousal. Amy was already breathing rapidly, whispering to hurry. But I refused to be rushed. When I removed her bra, I caught teasingly at her jutting nipples with my teeth, evoking a moan from deep in her throat. I lavished attention on her beautiful breasts for a while, causing her to shiver. I suddenly sucked one nipple and as much of the breast as possible into my mouth, lashing the nipple with my tongue. At the same time I tweaked and lightly twisted her other nipple. Amy gasped, and shuddered through an orgasm.

I helped her remain standing, still pleasuring her breasts, until she came down from her flight. I kissed my way down her body to her now soaked panties, her only remaining clothing. Continuing to stroke and lightly brush her body, I eased her panties down and had her step out of them. I kissed back up her legs, the front, the sides, the sensitive flesh on the inside of her thighs. She spread her legs to afford better access. When I reached her love nest, I attacked, delving deeply between her nether lips, then sweeping forward across her clit, only to return and repeat. After a minute or two, she again exploded into climax. This time she could not remain upright, and I caught her as she slid bonelessly toward the floor, sweeping her up and onto the bed.

I lay beside her for a while, touching here, kissing there, scratching lightly elsewhere, trying to prolong her euphoric feelings. As she roused, I felt her hand start to stroke my leg. As she recovered more, her hands gained momentum, until both were engaged and racing across any part of my body she could reach. She reared up and slammed me on my back on the bed, then ripped my panties off, swung across me, and impaled herself on my raging hard-on. She moved like a wild woman, up and down, side to side, back and forth. She froze and shuddered through her third orgasm, then started bucking furiously again. I could not take it any more, and erupted inside her, emitting squeaks and moans. When I had finished, and was just starting to soften within her, she came again, for the longest time. Then she collapsed on top of me.

We both lay in a daze for a few minutes while our labored pulse and rasping breathing slowed. Amy pushed herself up so she could look down into my face, keeping my limp member within her.

"I don't know what it is about you like this that turns me on so much." She mused quietly. "Whatever it is, I wish we could bottle it to use when this is over."

"So you kinda like this, huh?"

"Yes. Oh, god, yes. A million times yes."

I pouted sexily "Maybe you don't want me to go back! Maybe you want to keep me as your sexy slut forever."

She grinned at me. "I don't know, sounds like maybe you're the one that wants to stay a sexy slut, if you ask me!"

I shuddered beneath here and said "Don't you even think it!"

"Come on, lets go eat that dinner you made for us, then maybe I can get another crack at you tonight while I still have you as my sexy lesbian."

I slipped my panties back on, and she donned a similar robe to mine, without lingerie, so I continually got tantalizing glimpses of breast, pussy, and delightfully rounded derriere.

We ate a romantic, only slightly overdone, dinner by candlelight, sipping chilled wine, talking about us, our days, this challenge, whatever topic came to mind. We touched hands across the table, and gazed into each others eyes. After the chocolate dipped strawberries for dessert, we just left the mess for the morning and once again retired to our room.

We lovingly stripped each other until the only clothing between us was my red corset. We touched and kissed, licked and tweaked, nipped and caressed, gently bringing us from our earlier mild arousal to nearly fever pitch. Amy lovingly led me to the bed and eased me down onto my back, with my feet resting on the floor. She slowly knelt between my legs, murmured "My turn." to me, and hungrily sucked my stiffening tool into her mouth. Her pace was slow at first, licking around, side to side, down nearly to the base and back up. She slowly brought my aroused member to steel hardness. Speeding up slightly, she continued to minister to me until she felt me stiffen, the backed off, kissing the tip, my thighs, my stomach, and moving up to suckle my breasts, letting my urgency fade, but keeping me frustratingly aroused. My nipples were so much more sensitive that her loving almost pushed me over the top anyway, but she recognized my labored breathing and moved on to other exquisite tortures. After a time, she moved slowly back down, once again engulfing me, and repeated the process. Any time I tried to touch her, to give her pleasure, she gently brushed my hands aside, saying "Not now, now it's my turn." She repeated this four more times, each time pushing me to the edge, then backing off. Each time I begged more desperately for release, but she continued to torment me.

Finally, the last time, when I expected her to back off again, she did not, continuing to enflame my cock until I exploded in her mouth. She stayed with me, licking, sucking, squeezing, until I softened. She then crawled up me and kissed my painted lips greedily. Her tongue invaded my mouth, and then was followed by my come that she hadn't swallowed! She was feeding me my own come! But I was too drained, yet still aroused, to protest, and just swallowed what she gifted me with. Such a strange flavor for a bodily fluid, tangy, slightly salty, not at all like what I tasted from Amy. Not unpleasant, though.

Amy finally ended the deep kiss, pulled back to look at me, and said "Now you are almost a woman. Welcome, my love."

After snuggling a while, we both rose, Amy removed my corset, and we showered together. After patting each others various parts, erogenous and otherwise, dry, and dusting with scented powder, Amy once again bound me, this time with her white corset, as my red one was long overdue for washing. Amy pulled out the tape measure, and told me "You are now the proud owner of a 21" waist." The corset didn't even feel uncomfortably tight anymore.

 

Friday, September 18

After Amy was off to work, I cleaned up the dinner mess from the prior night, then spent an hour packaging and transmitting my code updates back to the test group. That left me at loose ends for the day.

After that a walk – I made the circuit twice today, so I guess my walking was doing some good. Another sponge bath, and I attached the gaff, added simple lingerie, pantyhose, and dressed in one of Amy's skirts and blouses that I liked. Then, I drove across town to the mall were I had visited the salon. As I window shopped, I looked at my longer hair, and thought it was time to return for a touch-up. I stopped in and asked if the girl I had had a couple weeks ago had any openings today. I said I also wanted another full body waxing. I was showing some hair regrowth after the last waxing. It was finer, but I still wanted it removed. Consulting the book, the receptionist told me I could get in at 2:00. Since I had planned to spend the day at the mall anyway, I took it.

I cruised the mall, looking in windows, occasionally entering a shop, soaking up the 'shopping experience' that is so much a part of modern womanhood in America. I was doing this for Amy, and for the challenge, and I did not expect to enjoy it, only endure. But as time passed, I found it wasn't so bad. I found myself paying closer attention to some items, then picking some off the racks to look at. At noon, I had a salad (what else?) in the food court, and then surprised myself by trying on a dress that caught my eye in the first shop I stopped at. It was a brilliant aqua color, had a scoop neck, was supposed to be tightly fitted around the midsection, but was loose over my corset. It had a full skirt that fell beautifully to swish around my legs. Unfortunately, with the corset, the dress was too loose around the middle. I decided to buy it anyway, assuming it would fit pretty well without the corset.

Well, in for a penny, etc. Since I had bought the dress, I knew I didn't have any shoes to match, so that was the next stop. I had to try three stores before I found a pair of shoes the right color. They were slingbacks with 4" heels. I could have done with a lower heel, but what can you do. There just weren't many shoes in that color.

By then it was time for my appointment. When I entered, they guided me back to the private room I remembered for the pain I had survived within. This time was much less painful, as there was not nearly as much hair, and it was finer. The tech rubbed moisturizer all over my body again, and I tried my best to suppress the moans as she massaged it into my breasts. She remembered me from the time before, and complemented me on the way my breasts were filling out. I looked at them and realized that they were looking bigger and better.

Wearing the provided robe and my lingerie, I was led up front to one of the stations and seated in the chair. The girl asked me what I had in mind. I told her other than touching up the color, I didn't know for sure. I wanted to try something different, something fairly easy to care for, but I needed to keep as much length as possible for the "I Dream of Jeannie" costume I had for Halloween. She fingered my hair, and gushed about how great I should look in a costume like that. I was sure hoping so, after all the effort we had gone to to get me into it!

She shampooed my hair, and touched up the darker roots. Fortunately, my natural hair color is not too far off this, so the roots didn't stand out, but still. Amy was going to have a real challenge, what with her very dark brown tresses. As she worked, another operator arrived to work on my nails. After discussing it, she removed the old false nails that were hardly longer than I normally wore my own nails. She replaced them with longer nails that reached about a half inch past my fingertips. Amy hadn't mentioned it, but I knew I would have to work up to the ¾" nails Amy was accustomed to. On a whim, I had her finish my new fingernails, as well as my toenails in a color to match my new dress. To finish up, they did my makeup again, flawlessly as usual.

After they finished their magic, I dressed in my new purchases, placing the old clothes in the shopping bag, then pulled out my cell phone. I caught Amy just before she was leaving her office. I proposed meeting her at a restaurant we both enjoyed, and it took very little effort to convince her.

I went to the front desk to settle the bill, including a nice tip, then left the shop, thanking the friendly people who had made me look so beautiful, and headed for the car.

I arrived before Amy, and stood waiting for her near the valet station. Even with the ill-fitting dress I wore, I thought the young valet was barely keeping his tongue from dragging on the ground. It felt kind of good having that effect on men, after being on the drooling side of the fence for most of my life.

Amy didn't notice me when she pulled up, though how she could miss the brightly colored dress, I'll never know. I caught up with her as she walked in the door, and whispered we needed to visit the ladies before we were seated. Safely inside, I told her of my problem as she gaped at the remanufactured woman that only a short time ago was her husband. We entered the handicapped stall, and she helped me remove the corset that was obstructing the fit of the dress. Once it was removed, and the dress refastened, the fit was fantastic. I had hoped it would be. Amy stood back and looked at me in wonder.

"Where, oh where has my husband gone?" she whispered. I think I saw a tear glisten in her eye, so I rushed to her and enveloped her in my arms.

I whispered back "Oh darling, I am right here, always right here. You may not recognize me right at the moment, but just close your eyes and feel the love I wrap you in, and you will know for sure."

We clung to each other a few minutes before she held me back and said "Yes, I feel it, now I know exactly where my husband is!"

We exited the restroom and spoke to the maitre d'. We were soon led to a secluded booth where we could talk privately, and exchange loving looks and touches without alerting the dyke patrol. It was a thoroughly enjoyable meal. We talked about my shopping trip, and the things I bought. Alright, it wasn't much, only a dress and shoes, but Amy was amazed anyway.

Saturday, September 19

Having slept for the first time in a while without the corset, I slipped out of bed while Amy still slept, and soaked for a long time in a hot bath loaded with scented bath oil. Amy still slept when I returned to our room, so I quietly dressed in the really low cut jeans and a vivid blue crop top. This left an awful lot of skin showing in my midsection! Out of curiosity, I used Amy's tape measure, and was shocked when my uncorsetted waist was only 22 inches! That's an inch less than Amy's! Well, somewhere between the diet, the walking, and the corset, something had certainly done the job. Hmmm, I guess hormones could factor in there somewhere, too.

I crept out to the kitchen. I considered making Amy a big breakfast, but after exceeding my waist goal, I wasn't taking any chances on putting inches back on. So I whipped together a light and lean breakfast, bagels, fresh fruit with low fat yogurt, and coffee. Amy wandered in about the time the coffee finished, and we sat to break our fast.

When Amy was dressed, we set off to pick up some groceries as the larder was getting pretty bare. Amy had chosen the same jeans as I, and a crop top like mine, only pink. Well, since we looked like twins, why not dress like twins for some occasional fun?

Grocery shopping as a pretty girl is an experience. The stock boys can't do enough to help, and strange women just start talking about the most incredible things – man troubles, periods, all sorts of things I would never think of discussing.

Amy and I split up to fetch some items we needed. I was moving down an aisle toward the front of the store when I heard someone calling Amy. I hadn't realized my wife was in this part of the store, so I looked up to see who was talking to her. It turned out to be Sally, our next door neighbor, and she was talking to me!

"Oh, I just love that hair color, Amy! When did you decide to change it? And have you lost some weight?"

I was at a loss for words, but finally managed to recover. Being careful to stay in Amy mode I answered "Oh, about 2 weeks ago, and yes, I think, a little. So how have you been, Sally. Obviously, we haven't talked in the last two weeks," pointing to my hair, "So what have you been up to?" I didn't really need to worry about my Amy impersonation, it was pretty engrained now.

"Well, I've been out of town, a little holiday with my boyfriend. I just love that color, but I don't think you should be losing any more weight, you're too thin as it is."

"Well, the weight loss is not a long term goal. It and the hair are for an elaborate costume I have for the big costume party at the office."

Then I noticed Sally wasn't really listening. Her eyes were huge, and getting larger as she peered over my shoulder. I turned to see Amy coming up the aisle behind me, absorbed in reading a product label, so she hadn't noticed I was talking to anyone.

"Oh! Oh! Um, who are you!" Sally shrieked. Amy snapped her head up, and her eyes got pretty large as well when she saw me talking to our neighbor. She walked up beside me, desperately trying to think what to say. Sally just stood there looking back and forth from one Amy to the other. I just had to giggle at the expression on her face.

"Alright, what's going on here!" she demanded.

Since I figured this was Amy's show, I just kept quiet and waited to see how she would explain this one. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Then tried and failed a second time. Then finally, she grabbed an idea she thought she could run with, and got her mouth in gear at about the same time.

"Sally. Um, I can explain this. I think."

Sally broke in and said "Who are you anyway, and why do you look and sound like Amy here!" gesturing to me. I choked back a laugh, and Amy glared at me.

"No, Sally, you've got it wrong. I'm Amy."

"You're… Amy? But… But… Well then, who the heck is she?" Sally stuttered.

Yeah, who the heck am I, I thought. What do you say to that, oh wife of mine!

"Um, gee, Sally, can you keep a secret? I mean really keep it? Until after Halloween?"

"Why?"

"It's just really, really important to me. It's a joke that I want to play on my friends at the office Halloween party."

"Oh, I get it! You brought in, like, your twin sister and you want to fool people at the party, right?"

Whew. Thanks Sally! "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Now can you promise to keep my secret until after the party?"

"Sure. No problemo! Anything I can do to help?"

"No, thanks. I think we have everything pretty much under control. If I think of anything I'll be sure to let you know, though!"

"Boy, the resemblance is really amazing. You guys really had me going there for a while. I thought you were Amy, ha ha. That's pretty rich. Um, what was your name again?"

"Jamie." I piped up. "My name is Jamie."

"Hey, that's pretty cool. Jamie and Amy. Ha ha, that's good!"

Amy cut in "Great to see you, Sally. We really have to run. Remember, this is a secret!" And we walked toward the checkout, leaving Sally chuckling and shaking her head.

We got home and put away the groceries, then fixed a light lunch of grilled chicken on a salad.

I didn't tell Amy about my waist, and after lunch I asked her to lace me up again. I was giddy with my success, and wanted to see if I could make any more progress with respect to my waist. Maybe I was becoming anorexic. Maybe it was just vanity. Who knows, I was a woman now, and I've never understood them!

After I was cinched up, I traded my tube top for a longer top that came down to cover the top of my low riders. More importantly, it hid my corset.

Amy did some laundry while I did some housecleaning. That pretty much filled the afternoon. Amy spent much of the day doing an intense critique of everything I did, occasionally pointing things I did different than her, and helped me correct them. Little by little I was becoming Amy. We had always been compatible in our thought patterns, likes and dislikes. Now, it seemed we were coming closer to identical.

I still had "a major flaw" though, in my Amy imitation. That was an extra something between my legs. That night, Amy failed miserably trying to instruct it how to be just like Amy's counterpart. But we sure had a heck of a lot of fun while she was trying!

 

Sunday, September 20

Sunday, the weather was cooler, so we drove downtown, dressed similarly in longish shorts, halter tops, and walking shoes with short white socks. We found a place to park and strolled around, enjoying watching people, and being watched. This beautiful girl thing could become addictive! Have to watch out for that. But it was lots of fun provoking reactions from the guys, checking them out checking us out. It was fun to see their looks on seeing nearly identical twins, only one dark and one blonde. And to feel their stares on my bum when they think I don't know. And my growing boobs. And that well hidden part that only appears to be what they think it is, thanks to my gaff.

Lunch at a sidewalk café extended our time of seeing and being seen. After lunch we browsed a few of the small shops, but didn't buy anything. Didn't see anything we just had to have, and didn't want to carry anything extra with us.

We returned home to have a light supper of grilled orange roughy, fresh steamed, deliciously seasoned vegetables, and (of course) salad. Apparently, I am now a salad junkie. At least, that seems to be about all I eat any more!

We were both pleasantly tired, and retired early. I still slept in my corset, and had amusing dreams of tiny corseted waists and confusing things women do. Did it involve men? Naw, couldn't have. Last I checked, I was a guy, and guys don't dream like that about guys. But then again, maybe I hadn't checked well enough in the last few weeks!

 

Monday, September 21

It had taken me months to develop and perfect the code for this last phase of my contract, but now I was fairly certain it was done. Or done as much as software ever is! So now, the last step before moving on to the next big chunk of work was to provide final documentation and a project wrap-up. I figured I could do the job pretty well this week, then take a break till after Halloween, when things should be getting back to normal. Whatever normal is. Don't think I am even sure anymore.

I dove into the task, surfacing only rarely, intent on having this done. I actually made it by late Friday. So late that Amy was sound asleep, so I missed my nookie that night, as I had nearly every night this week.

Still intent on toning my waist further, I wore a corset full time, except to bathe. When I found time to eat, I kept it healthy, instead of the junk food that was my mainstay during these peak load times. I also broke for a walk midmorning every day. It helped me clear my head.

One of those days, Paul was there again, and we had a long, comfortable talk for the whole two circuits of the park path. I was coming to trust Paul now, maybe with too little real evidence, but more based on intuition. Feminine intuition? Maybe, I seem pretty darned female these days. But anyway, trusting him made me feel protected. It offset this insecurity that turning female seems to have created in me. It felt nice.

 

Thursday, September 24

Thursday, Amy and Sandy managed to get together again for their semi-regular lunch. As with recent weeks, nearly the only topic of conversation was Jamie. Once again, Amy bubbled over about this or that that Jamie had done over the last two weeks. His spontaneous trip to the salon. The new dress and shoes. His success at trimming his waistline.

But then Amy sobered, and stopped talking for a long few moments. She fought to hold back tears. "Oh, Sandy. I'm just so afraid I am losing James, though. As much as I love Jamie, and as much as I thrill at every new success she has, I still love James with all my heart. But I see less and less of him in Jamie every day. It feels like he is slipping away. And no matter how hard I grab and try to hold, the pieces of my one and only husband just seem to slide through my fingers. What am I going to do?" Amy could hold the tears back no longer. This was not a violent storm of wracking sobs and torrential tears, but a silent stream down each cheek.

It wrenched Sandy's heart, and almost made her relent the need for this challenge. But then she thought back to the time when she thought of her husband as Amy thinks of James, and knew she had to finish, so she could know beyond a shadow of a doubt. And maybe save Amy at the same time, should it be necessary.

"Shh, sweetie. I'm here. Sandy's always here to help make things right. Come on, Amy, don't worry. It will be OK. Together we will make it OK. Don't cry now girlfriend." And she cradled Amy's head above her breast and waited for the sorrow to leak out with her tears.

Finally, Amy pulled back and gave Sandy a watery little smile. "Thanks, girlfriend. You're the best!" Amy turned her head away and dabbed her eyes and nose with a tissue, embarrassed for breaking down in public.

When she was composed again, Sandy asked "I know what you say you feel, Amy, but do you have any specifics we can talk over to see how we need to proceed here? I mean, your whole strategy has been to train her to be you, or very nearly. Don't you think that James is really alive and well in there, and just doing a really good job of learning and imitating the woman he loves so much?"

"It's hard to pick specifics. Well, a few. Her emotions are more intense, less inhibited. She is more intuitive, picks up on human patterns very quickly. She has shown a remarkable acceptance of male company, considering how *he* was raised. She is very proud of her body, and sometimes jokes about not returning it." Sandy cheered to herself over that one. "His fashion sense is much improved, and he has pretty good taste. He doesn't complain at all about shopping or trying on clothes, makeup, hair styles, jewelry, whatever. I don't know, Sandy, I can't think."

Sandy was ready. "That's right, Amy. You can't think. You're letting your emotions run away, and painting disaster scenarios in your mind. But that's not you! Fall back on your doctors training. Analyze the situation based on your medical experience."

"Like how?"

"Well, you've treated lots of transsexuals, right? I mean, you don't diagnose that condition, but you have led many new women successfully through their transition. What's your major tool in that area, at least until the final surgery?"

"Ummm. Hormones? Yes, it would have to be estrogen."

"And what happens when these patients take that estrogen? Is there any correlation between them and Jamie?"

"Yes. Why, yes there is. So many of the things I mentioned happen in some or all of the tg patients on estrogen. But they want these changes, that's not the intent with Jamie."

"OK, so we've established that estrogen is probably responsible for a lot of your 'lost' James, right?" Then Sandy continued without waiting for an answer. "And in the rare case that one of your patients has chosen to stop estrogen therapy?"

"Well, if it happens before irreparable damage, then most of those effects reverse over time. The moodiness. The sexuality generally shifts back toward an interest in females if it had previously drifted toward male."

"Yes!" Sandy jumped in. "And fashion sense is not hormone related. He probably had it all along, just suppressed. And reading your magazines and shopping with you has just strengthened it. That should be an advantage afterward, not a problem! And the shopping, makeup, etc is probably just Jamie's dedication to the task at hand. Don't you say that when he gets into one of his work projects that he is terribly focused and tenacious?"

"Of course! That must be it. Oh, please, god, let that be it. I couldn't stand to lose James. Oh, Sandy, that must be it! When we stop the hormones, Jamie will gradually shift back to my wonderful, wonderful husband once again."

Sandy added, "Maybe with a few improvements? Like better nipples. And better fashion sense. And a better appreciation of you, as a woman."

"Hmmm. You're quite right. He should be James plus. Oh, thank-you Sandy. I knew I could count on you."

Sandy got a pensive look on her face, and thought for quite a while. "Amy, I just had a thought. What if… No. Um, Amy, is Jamie happy?"

"Happy? Yes, she seems so most of the time, apart from a few emotional episodes. But she is almost always cheerful, bubbly, smiling. Yes, she is happy. Why?"

"And James. Is James happy?" prompted Sandy.

"James? Oh, yes, I have always thought that James is happy most of the time. Everyone has their down times, even James. But for the most part, he is very happy. Oh, I know he doesn't smile all the time, or bubble like Jamie. But that is just their different styles. Oh. Oh, no! Sandy, no! You don't think James is happier as Jamie, do you? Oh, no. Please no."

Sandy sat forward, placing her hand on her friends arm to comfort her. "Oh no, I don't think so. No. No?...But…"

"Sandy, you're scaring me! But what!"

"Oh Amy, I don't want to hurt you. But you did say Jamie is more visibly happy than James, right?"

A tear started coursing down Amy's cheek again. "Yes," she whispered.

"And you did say she joked about staying as Jamie? Maybe that was her way of testing the waters with you."

Amy's face seemed to crumple, and more tears chased the first. "Oh, god. Could Jamie have discovered she's transsexual? Oh, Sandy, what am I going to do? I can't live without James, Sandy. I can't do it."

"Shh. Amy, you have to face the fact that Jamie may be here to stay. That may not be what's best for you. But can you really force her to go back if she's discovered this is the way she should be? And remember, you love Jamie too. Maybe not the same way as James, but you love her all the same. And you would have to lose her in order to get James back. Since you have to lose one or the other, wouldn't it be best to choose what is best for Jamie?"

"Oooohhhhh. I can't do this, Sandy. Why did this have to happen. We were so happy together. So much in love. We have plans about starting a family together. Growing old together. Sandy, this can't be happening!"

"Oh, Amy. I am so very sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't insisted on this stupid challenge, if I had just trusted you and accepted James, we wouldn't have this problem now. I just wish I could turn back the clock with the knowledge I have now." Sandy hung her head and hugged Amy tightly. Finally she voiced another thought, "On the other hand, if we hadn't done this, James might have suffered through never knowing what that void in his soul was. As much as it hurts, this may have been the best thing for the one you love."

Amy sobbed, "OK." She slowly pulled herself up, and said more strongly, "OK. If this is the hand I'm dealt, I'll handle it." More strongly yet, "OK, what do I need to do?"

"That's the ticket. You go girl! If Jamie is to survive, you will have to be strong for her as well as for yourself!"

"OK, I can. I must. Jamie needs me. But what do I need to do?" One more tear trickled down Amy's cheek.

Sandy thought how to say this. "Well, first, you need to hide your knowledge from Jamie. You must let her explore being a woman. Right now, the plan is to go back to James after the party. You have to give her the freedom to decide for herself if she wants to or not, without feeling pressured into James by your need. Can you do that?"

"I don't know. I will never do anything more difficult than that in this lifetime. I don't know if I'm strong enough. But for Jamie, I have to, so I will!"

"That's the spirit. I know you can do it. Next, you need to help Jamie explore femininity. She must be able to do everything she can as a woman. If she is transsexual, she will have to rediscover her sexuality as a woman."

Amy's face was on the verge of crumbling again, but she drew a deep breath, drew back her shoulders, and firmed her resolve. "OK, what do you suggest?"

"Well, you've given her a good start already. You've given her a fantastic role model to pattern behavior after, and she's soaked it up like a sponge. You've taken baby steps in getting her to interact with others as a woman. That's good, but it needs to continue on several fronts. One, she needs more independent contact with men. The club was a good step. I think we should do that again, soon. Maybe tomorrow."

"OK. But tomorrow isn't good. Jamie has to finish a task for work and has been working long hours to get it done by tomorrow. I don't expect him to finish much before midnight, and even if he does, he will be exhausted."

"How about Saturday?"

"That could work."

"And this time he needs to take another step. He needs to dance with a man, not just with us. And he needs to spend some time alone with a man, maybe while we are out on the dance floor?"

"OK."

Sandy pondered. "Next thing. He needs to come out from under cover. He needs to see how he is received professionally, by the people he works with."

Amy was shocked. "No, Sandy. He may need to before he commits, but if he did it now before he made a decision, then went back to James, he could be ruined professionally. No, this is too early. I can see why you thought of it, but it cannot happen at this stage, when we still do not know."

"Are you sure this isn't just denial on your part? Is this really what you think best for Jamie? Or is it your hope that he still will return to James?"

"Maybe. Maybe. But I just cannot take the chance. Not when the consequences could be so severe."

Sandy sighed. "Ok, maybe you're right. Let's wait on that."

Amy glanced at her watch. "Oh. My. Word. Look at the time. I have got to get back. Can't say it was fun, Sandy, but thanks for your help. Talk to you soon."

Sandy called "Remember, be strong for her!" She watched Amy walk away, and wondered what the future held.

That night, as she expected, Amy hardly saw Jamie, let alone had a chance to talk to her. She retired early, and cried herself to sleep, wondering how she could possibly survive.

 

Friday, September 25

Friday night was the same. However, Amy remembered hearing Jamie say it was done. She was free for the next month or more.

 

Saturday, September 26

Amy let me sleep in this morning, after the grueling week that I had survived. I noted that the walking seemed to give me more staying power, and I resolved to continue it after I became a man again.

I washed up and went to the kitchen in just my babydoll and matching panties. Amy was preparing lunch & said, "Hello, sleepyhead. Did my little girl get her sleep out?"

I slumped listlessly in the chair and mumbled no.

She brought lunch to the table, and we sat and ate in companionable silence. Amy seemed to have something on her mind, but was apparently looking for the right time to say it. Since I was wiped anyway, I just waited for her.

Finally, "I was hoping we could take some time to sit and talk, uninterrupted, today, but I think it will have to wait for tomorrow. I made plans for today that I think might perk you up from your post-project doldrums. Come on, let's get dressed and go before we're late!

In the bedroom, Amy laid a couple of hanging suit bags across the bed, but when we dressed it was casual. Still not fully awake, I didn't question what was up. We hurried out to the car, and ended up back at the salon I had been to for my only two visits to a beauty parlor.

Apparently Amy had arranged everything ahead of time, because we were taken our separate ways. My first stop again was waxing. This time was even much better than last. There hadn't been much regrowth, and what had grown seemed even finer than last week. After the moisturizing lotion was massaged in, I returned to one of the hair stations. The girl checked my roots, and decided I didn't need a touch up just yet, so she proceeded with the shampoo, then fixed lots of little rollers in my hair, liberally doused with a foul smelling solution. While that was percolating through my hair, another girl did the pedicure, and a manicure after removing my false nails. She then applied nails that extended 3/4" past my fingertips. I was just glad I finished my documentation before these were applied, as I expected to keep this length for the next month. All 20 nails were then coated multiple times with deep red polish, followed by a clear top coat. While this was going on, my eyebrows were plucked again, and when I finally saw them, they were an even higher, finer arch than last time.

The rollers were removed, my hair rinsed, and I was parked under a dryer, with the usual selection of women's magazines to occupy my time. I found it interesting some of the techniques they espoused to tame guys. Having been on "the other side" for most of my life, I really doubted their effectiveness. Amy ended up under a dryer down the row from me, but we had no opportunity to talk.

Then it was back to the station for final combing, arranging, and spraying of my hair, followed by an all-out assault by the makeup artist.

When I was finished, I saw shiny golden blonde hair in a mass of curls piled on my head, with a corkscrew tendril hanging down in front of each ear. Delicate, femininely arched brows rose over dramatically highlighted eyes. My full lips were colored to match the red of my nails, and then glossed to a wet-looking sheen. It really was incongruous to be dressed so casually yet so elegantly made up. Amy came up behind me, and I could see she was just as turned out.

She tapped me on the shoulder, and said "This way, sexy!" We turned and followed one of the girls from the shop into a back room where I saw the suit bags and a sports bag that Amy had brought. The girl left us there, and Amy started pulling out clothes. Once again I saw the red and black dresses cut in the same style, one pair of red spike heels and a pair of black. My red corset, and a black one I hadn't seen before, plus some of our sexiest lingerie. "Strip!" Amy ordered, and proceeded to do the same herself. She handed me the red corset, and hooked the black one on herself, then we tightened each others laces. When Amy finished with my corset, I commented that it didn't seem that tight, was she sure she had finished. She told me that it wouldn't go any tighter, as the two sides were pulled tight together. Even with my greater strength, I hadn't been able to do that with Amy's.

"Oh ho! Looks like someone needs to go on a diet!" I sniped at her. She batted my arm, then handed me the lingerie she had selected for me. Bra, seamed black nylons, panties. When I was ready, she handed me the red dress this time, and helped me get it in place without mussing hair or makeup. I then helped her with the black one. A little tug here, a shimmy there, and we were all decked out. Amy still hadn't told me what was up, but I was content to follow her lead. I seemed to have mellowed out some in the past week or two. Wonder if it's the hormones, or just exhaustion.

We packed our casual clothes into the sports bag, then went to the front of the shop to settle our bill and head out to the car. Amy drove us downtown, and we parked near the art museum. Amy explained that this was yet another environment that I could practice being a woman, and observing how other women behaved.

We strolled through the museum, pausing here and there to examine a painting, a sculpture, or some Indian pottery. As we viewed the art, I also watched how Amy behaved as she spoke with me in hushed tones, as she lost herself in thought over a particular object, as she greeted some acquaintance, while she sipped wine at the bar, and when she was interacting with me as her girlfriend. I did my best to adopt the mannerisms I was able to distinguish as different from my behaviors. Apparently Amy was unobtrusively watching me as well, because when I had little successes, she smiled at me, or quirked an eyebrow

As evening approached, we left the museum and went to an upscale restaurant in an area of town associated with the upper crust. It was posh and sedate, not the kind of thing we went out for often, even when we felt like living high off the hog. We shared a bottle of very good wine as Amy ate her quiche, and I enjoyed a grilled shrimp Caesar salad. We talked about our respective weeks, and my success preparing for my part at the party. She did not talk about her lunch with Sandy, and while I could tell something was bothering her, she was able to convince me it was nothing worth worrying about.

When we left the restaurant, Amy drove us again to the club we had visited two weeks ago, when I was a freshly minted woman. I questioned why we were here again, and Amy responded that it was for more experience. We left the car with the valet and entered the club. As we were making our way to a table, Amy saw someone wave at us, and changed course to approach a different table, where Kevin and Jack, whom we'd met last time, were sitting alone. They greeted us warmly, and I watched Amy greet Jack with a peck on the cheek. It made me quite nervous, but I tamped that down and did the same to Kevin. After all, the whole purpose of this was to learn to imitate Amy. I was all for finding our own table, but Jack had already signaled for a waitress, and was ordering drinks for us, while Kevin urged us to sit.

At first, it was a repeat of the last time, we sipped our drinks while Jack leaned close enough to Amy to carry on a conversation. Kevin was attempting to do the same with me, but my nerves were making my end of the conversation very difficult to carry. Amy was unobtrusively keeping an eye on me, and silently urged me to loosen up a bit.

Part way through our second drinks, Jack asked Amy to dance, and she agreed! As I watched Jack and Amy rise, trying to cover the shock on my face, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and heard Kevin say "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

I stammered and tried to mumble thanks but no thanks when I heard Amy pipe up from across the table saying "That's a wonderful idea, Kevin. Jamie would love to dance with you. You'll have to forgive her, she is a little shy." I stared at her, dumbstruck, and she just smiled back at me, and mouthed "go ahead".

Kevin took my hand and led me to the dance floor. Fortunately, it was a fast song, so it was not hard to imagine I was dancing with Amy, like last time. The song ended, and segued into a slow dance. Before I could escape, Kevin had captured my hand, brought me up next to him, and started leading me around the floor.

I was petrified, and Kevin picked up on that quickly, and eased me away just a bit. He started asking me questions, and telling me about himself, taking advantage of our nearness to carry on a fairly quiet conversation. At first I just mumbled my replies, but Kevin tilted my chin up, beamed that great smile at me, and said "Hey, come on, don't you dare hide that wonderful sexy voice from me!" His smile had brought an answering smile to my lips, but when he hit the word "sexy" the smile started to crumble. I firmed up my resolve, pasted the smile back on my lips, a bit strained at first, but it mellowed over time. Kevin started again, and this time, I was able to get my responses out in Amy's melodic voice, without losing my cool.

I got so wrapped up in Kevin's conversation that when the current dance ended, it just seemed natural to flow into the slow dance that followed. As we danced and talked, Kevin gradually guided me closer. It was so gentle, and so unthreatening that I hardly noticed. When we reached a lull in the conversation, he pulled me a little closer, and it just seemed natural to lay my cheek against his chest, since he was so much taller than I. I wondered what I was doing, but between the wine earlier, the drinks and the easy conversation, I couldn't seem to work up much concern about it. As we moved around, I saw Amy dancing with Jack. She was held just as close as I, but she had her head up and was watching me with an enigmatic smile on her beautiful face.

The next song was fast, so we drifted back to the table for a rest. Amy and Jack arrived about the same time. We sat, and talked again, two separate conversations as before, Amy with Jack, and Kevin with me, because the music was just too loud. Jack signaled for another round of drinks. I tried to get Amy's attention, but couldn't seem to get her to understand I was ready to leave. After we'd rested, talked, and finished our third drink, the guys asked us to dance again, and before I could say anything, Jack had already led Amy away, and Kevin was standing beside me expectantly. This time, the dancing picked up where the last had left off, Kevin held me very close. I decided not to fight it, and just went with the flow.

After several dances, both slow and fast, I pled aching feet due to the heels, so Kevin gallantly led me back to our table. We sat and talked through another two songs before Jack and Amy came back hand in hand, laughing over something Jack had said.

Before long, Amy signaled me, and told Jack and Kevin that it had been great, but it was time we were going. They seemed disappointed, but quickly offered us a ride home. Amy demurred, saying we had our own car, but thank-you very much. I told Kevin that I had a wonderful time, and thanked him for the dances and the drinks. He lifted my hand, and gently kissed the back of it. I restrained the urge to jerk my hand away, not knowing if that urge was based on disgust at being kissed by a man, embarrassment at having Amy see the kiss, or the tingle that started at the point of contact and worked its way up my arm. I know my face must have been as red as my dress.

We managed to make it to our car and headed home. Thankfully, Amy stayed silent for the drive, but I felt sure we were going to have a little talk when we got to bed.

I was right. After we had undressed, cleaned off our makeup, brushed our teeth, donned our baby dolls and climbed into bed, there was an awkward silence, but I knew that wouldn't last long. I was torn between yelling at Amy for getting us into that position, and mumbling an embarrassed apology for my behavior with Kevin when Amy stopped my thoughts cold with her opening remark.

"You looked really good out there dancing with Kevin." She paused and looked down, blushing.

I was trying to decide between a shocked retort and an angry accusation for getting me into the situation when I heard myself say, "It felt pretty nice, too." I couldn't believe what had just come out of my mouth!

I think I shocked Amy, too, because she jerked her head back up, even while her cheeks continued to glow red.

As soon as it really penetrated my mind what I had said, my mouth opened in shock, and tears welled up in my eyes. One great sob burst forth from my throat, followed by a stream of tears from my eyes, then constant wracking sobs as I tried to burrow into the mattress, to hide myself from Amy.

In an instant, Amy was cradling me in her arms, stroking, whispering her love, and waiting for the storm to pass. And eventually it did. Eventually. When I was finally cried out, Amy pulled back from me just enough to raise my head and look into my eyes. There was a look of unending love in her eyes, but I think there was a touch of fear as well. I knew that there was a great deal of fear in me right at that moment.

She gently kissed me on each eye, then the tip of my nose, and then, finally, lingeringly, on my lips. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

I searched her eyes a moment, then looked down. "I'm not sure I can."

"Honey, you know you can always talk about anything, ANYTHING, with me."

"Oh, I know that Amy. It's not that. It's just that I don't know what I think right now, so there is no way to put it into words."

We clung to each other a while, then Amy hesitantly said "Honey, are we going too far with this? Do we need to call this whole thing off? Baby, you know how important it is to me that you and Sandy get along. But you, James, are the most important thing in the whole world to me. More important than Sandy or Sandy's friendship. More important even than life. I will not, repeat WILL NOT, take a chance on losing you. Not for anything. Not for anyone."

As she said this, tears started leaking out of my eyes again, and I burrowed my head against her luscious breasts. "I know, I know," I wailed. "If I said the same words to you, they would be no less true. I love you more than anything. But, I don't know. Somehow, something was different tonight. It's like someone picked up the world and set it down cockeyed. Things that should have scared or disgusted me were not just acceptable, but, um, nice. And that really scares me."

We were both still scared. I know I was, and I could feel it from Amy. We made love that night with more than just a little desperation, and I wondered what the future would bring.

 

Sunday, September 27

We never even dressed Sunday. We hardly let each other out of our sight. There was a soothing quality to the time that we spent doing nothing in particular, eating, playing games, watching TV. It was a reaffirmation of our love, and of our commitment to live our lives together, come what may. By that evening I think the worst of the fear was washed away.

 

Monday, September 28

I had a midmorning appointment with Sandy to monitor my changes, so I got up early and went for my walk. I was still wearing my corset most of the time, but it was tightened to the limits now, and did not feel all that tight to me. I decided I needed a new one if I wanted to continue to get results from it.

Paul was waiting at his usual spot when I passed the second time around, and fell in step beside me. I kidded him about getting lazy, and that I had already made the circuit once, but he pointed out that I had gotten an earlier start than usual, and it was even now the time we had met in the past. The conversation flowed easily, and I mused that this was much more natural than had I been trying to talk to Paul as a man.

Paul asked "So, if I remember correctly, last time we met you said you were a pretty fair computer consultant, right?"

I looked up into his face, wondering where this was going. "Yes, I am a consultant, and I think I do OK. Why?"

"Well, SammaTech is looking for someone to do a little consulting work for us, and when the subject came up last week, I thought of you. Now, I don't know that there is a match between the work and your skills, but would you be interested in sending us a resume?"

Now, generally I would jump at the chance. A consultant's greatest asset is her base of contacts. The more satisfied customers, the more chance of having work available when the consultant has time. But given my present condition, I didn't think it was the best idea right now, so I said "I am kind of stacked up on work right at the moment, so if you are looking for someone soon, I think I should pass. You should find someone who can handle it on your timetable."

Paul frowned. "Well, that was not the answer I was looking for. We have had very little luck finding someone who could do the job for us, and we are getting kind of desperate. Tell you what, I will give you my card, and you think it over."

"OK. But don't get your hopes up."

He mumbled "Too late."

I was apparently getting results from the walking, as I kept the pace up the entire two laps, and was not even breathing hard when I separated from Paul and went home.

Since the corset was looser, I was able to reach behind and get the laces undone, and shucked it so I could shower and be fully clean when I saw Sandy. Shampoo, conditioner, blow dry, quick comb. I noted I didn't need a shave, the frequency had dropped to every third or forth day. I applied a little blusher, mascara, and lipstick, and called it good. A lightweight skirt in a pale green, with a silk blouse, over my lacey undies. Pass on the hose, a pair of green 3" heels, and I was ready. It may be September, but the weather here in the Southwest is still warm enough for summer clothes. I noted the size of the corset for later.

I breezed out to the car, and drove to Sandy's office. There were a couple other women in the reception area, but that no longer bothered me. I pondered that while I was waiting to be called back. The time came, and I was conducted by a nurse to one of the examining rooms. The nurse handed me one of those useless hospital gowns and told me to strip to my panties, which I did after she left.

Sandy came in and we sat and talked for a bit. She seemed more at ease with me than any time since I first met her. I decided that I was doing the right thing for Amy, if this kind of result held. She asked me about any changes in my body and emotions, and I tried to convey what I had observed. She said she was pretty well up-to-date from Amy anyway, but it was useful to compare two points of view, from the inside and the outside, so to speak.

She then went on to a physical examination, poking here, prodding there, asking for feedback of pain or sensitivity. While I sat on the examining table, she had me drop the top of my gown down into my lap, baring my breasts, which she proceeded to examine and manipulate with great concentration. Sandy pointed out what a great shape my boobs had settled into, perky and nicely rounded, with no hint of sag. She pointed out the puffy areoles and enlarging nipples. I had mentioned them, but from my point of view it had been very gradual, so when she pointed it out, I realized how much I had changed. The nipples were easily double the width, the areoles had gone from nickel size to the size of a quarter, and the whole area of it was puffed up maybe an eighth of an inch where they had been basically flat before. The sensitivity had gone from virtually the same as any other spot of skin to having noticeable sensation.

Sandy observed that there may have been some shift in body fat, noting how trim my waist was, but saying that after she had augmented my hips and butt, it would be really hard to judge whether further change had occurred. She did note that I was down 10 lbs. over the last month.

She then talked about the hormone implants, saying they lasted a fixed time, and that it was time for mine to be renewed. She asked if I was still OK with this. I was not about to chance messing up this challenge, no matter how nice she was treating me, so I grinned, and told her definitely. A nurse was dispatched to bring back the same implants that were used the last time, and Sandy inserted them. She noted that it was basically a month to the party, so she would see me next that Monday following Halloween, when we could plan the reversal process. I thought that sounded just fine, I was looking forward to it.

When I left Sandy's office, I would have liked to have stopped in to see Amy, but we were saving my appearance for a surprise at Halloween. I drove to what I had come to think of as Jamie's mall, the one across town we went to in order to avoid being seen by people we know. It was also the only place Jamie had visited a salon, and where most of Jamie's clothes had been purchased. I felt comfortable there, anonymous but attracting lustful or envious attention. I went back to Victoria's Secret, and asked the salesgirl for help with a corset. I told her the old size, and that it was now too large. She was slender, but she groaned enviously when I said that, and I couldn't help but smile. She found a basic white one she thought would work, and I asked if she could help me put it on. I had my faux vagina securely glued in place, so I figured with a little care, my secret would be safe. In the dressing room, she pulled and strained on the laces, pulling it as tight as she could. I could tell it was a lot tighter than the old one could be anymore, but I must have been used to it because it wasn't bothering me at all. She measured my compacted waist and reported it was only 19". She also told me the new corset had about another inch before it reached its limit. I also took one in black and one in a royal blue.

Another quick salad in the food court, then to a jewelry kiosk where I selected several new sets of earrings, the first I had purchased on my own. One set were dangly with several cascading wafers of plastic in red, white and blue that I thought would go great with that bikini Amy had put me in. Then I realized by the time I could have worn it again, I would be back to James. Oh well, they'll look great on Amy with that suit next summer.

Back at home, I spent the afternoon cleaning up my office after that mad rush last week, and installed the latest security fixes on my computer. That chewed up most of the afternoon, and then it was time to put dinner together for Amy.

We had a nice, quiet evening, and when we made it to bed, settled into a slow, languorous lovemaking. I realized that I was not exerting the same urgency in our sex as I had before, and wondered about it. Not that I didn't enjoy sex greatly, but now Amy was almost always the more aggressive partner. I was more content to feel her stroking my body. Her teasing, fondling, and sucking on my breasts brought me as much or more pleasure than penetrating Amy. I knew I should be worried about that, but it just didn't seem that important to me.

Continued in part 4

  

  

  

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