Turning Summer

by: Monika Ikon

Part 2

 

It was the week before the 4^th of July and summer had officially begun. Two months before my wife Kathy had given me my first bikini. She said she wanted to put some new life into our relationship and I wanted to do whatever I could to make her happy. My appearance had changed a lot since then but it didn’t occur to me that anything was out of the ordinary.

My wife’s explanations for the changes that she wanted me to make always seemed extremely reasonable. She encouraged my new look every step of the way and was forever coming up with suggestions so that I would look even sexier. I now kept my body waxed and my toenails painted. With my bleached hair and body piercings, I felt hip like I never did before.

I liked the shorts and belly-shirts Kathy had me wear on the weekends. At first, it did seem a little odd. But, as Kathy said, it only made sense to wear the little cropped t-shirts. I had, after all, gone through the trouble to have my naval pierced. After all, what was the point if no one was going to see it? The thick-soled flip-flip flops were fun and funky and comfortable and they showed off my feet, decorated with nail polish, toe-ring and anklet.

Lots of the tiny shirts Kathy bought me had slogans on the front like "girls rule," or "hot stuff," or "sexy sweetheart." They were usually some color like pink or orange or lime. I liked the ones that had the hello kitty or other cute graphics on them a little better. I didn’t mind the colors so much but I wondered about wearing a shirt that said "100% fox" across the front. Kathy said I was being silly and that they were just advertising slogans.

Something else was also bothering me. Lately, I noticed that as we walked through the mall, I became increasingly aware of the heads that turned to watch us pass. I mentioned it to Kathy.

"Get used to it hottie," my wife grinned.

"But a lot them are…guys!"

It was true. As time went on, it was clear that more men gave me the once-over than girls.

My wife reassured me.

"You look cool," she said. "They probably want to crib your style."

Then she laughed and added, "We’ll have to make sure we stay one step ahead."

One day we had been shopping at the mall and I was waiting for Kath outside the ladies room with our packages. I was sipping a diet sprite, just standing there, when this older guy bumped into me.

"Are you okay honey?" he said, touching my bare upper arm. He was smiling at me in this way that made me feel really…different. No one had ever smiled at me like that before. "I didn’t hurt you did I, sweetheart?"

I was too stunned to say anything so I just smiled bashfully and shook my head "no." The guy kept looking at me until his elderly wife yanked him by the elbow.

"Oh for goodness sake Harold," the old woman said. "She’s young enough to be your granddaughter. Let’s go."

The old man winked as he was led away.

I told my wife what happened when she emerged from the bathroom.

"He thought I was a girl Kathy," I said, clearly upset. "And I think other people might think that, too."

Kathy didn’t seem surprised.

"So what," she shrugged. "Androgyny is in."

"Do you really like me like this," I asked on day. I was wearing a pair of lavender-and-white cotton shorts and a lavender belly t with the word "kissable" spelled out in glitter across my chest. "Do you really think I look sexier like this?"

"Of course sweetie," my beautiful wife said. "I think you are just adorable."

That was all I needed to hear. I wore the butt-plug and cocksleeve pretty much all the time now. Kathy said it was a good idea for me to get used to the chastity device on a full-time basis. It would help train me, she said, and make me look that much smoother inside my sexy swimsuits. It wasn’t just the swimsuits any more, either. The skimpier new outfits that I had begun to wear on the weekends required that I didn’t have any lumps or bulges.

I really did want to look my best. And besides, Kathy said, I acted so much sexier now that I was wearing the plug and sleeve. I wasn’t sure what she meant. It was true that I was hot all the time now. I don’t know. I guess, come to think of it, I was a lot more cooperative. Sometimes I wondered why, if Kathy found me so much more sexier lately, we didn’t actually have any sex at all. I didn’t want to ruin everything so I didn’t ask her. I figured all good things in time.

By this time, Kathy had already taken me to see the plastic surgeon. Dr. Wallach was a tall, dark, taciturn woman who scared me a little. She seldom spoke to me directly but seemed quite friendly to Katy. When I mentioned this to my wife, she laughed and said I was just being my silly insecure self again. I had to admit, I was pretty insecure lately. Kathy said a little plastic surgery would do wonders for my self-esteem. I crossed my fingers and hoped she was right.

Whenever we went to Dr. Wallach’s office, I’d sit quietly on the edge of my chair, my hands folded in my lap while Kathy and the doctor discussed the alterations they planned to make. Dr. Wallach had my photograph scanned into her computer and she and Kathy would point out areas that needed improvement. They were able to tell what I would look like after the procedures, but they never let me see the "finished" me and I was too intimidated by Dr. Wallach to ask. Only later, when it was over, could I check myself in the mirror, and by then it was too late. They had already made minor changes to my cheekbones, my lips, and even the shape of my eyes. It happened so slowly, you could almost not notice.

We had our July 4^th picnic only this year Kathy asked me if it would be okay if we just limited to our friends Mary Pat and Bob. I knew Kathy had been out for lunch with Mary Pat several times since, but I hadn’t seen Bob since our Memorial Day barbecue. I said it was fine by me if we just had the two of them. I was a little nervous about seeing Bob again. He seemed rather hostile the last time they were over, but I figured it was better than facing a whole yard full of relatives. I was beginning to discover that not everyone was willing to understand when you wanted to change your image a little.

Kathy let me wear my most masculine outfit for the barbeque: a green bikini brief and a matching green jersey top that left my flat, brown belly bare. Bob liked basketball so I figured he would like the top. It was made out of a clingy ribbed material and had a gold "69" stenciled across the front. I slipped my feet into a pair of black japanese style straw sandals and tried to calm myself. Kathy saw me fussing at myself in the mirror and made an attempt to reassure me.

"You look great darling," she said. She smiled gently. "Don’t worry. I don’t think Bob will give you a hard time."

It was a great day for a pool party—hot and sunny. Bob seemed a little subdued and not at all like he was the last time. Mary Pat immediately commented on how much she liked my new look. She asked me where I had my hair done and wanted to know if I thought Bob would look good with his hair bleached and styled. I saw Bob give me a sidelong glance from his plate. I smiled and told his wife that I thought he would look really cool with his hair done. Maybe I went too far and I could feel myself blushing but I told Mary Pat that I thought Bob would look really cute in a bikini, too. Mary Pat clapped her hands delighted.

"Did you hear that Bobby?"

Bob blushed, mumbled something, and just kept eating. I felt a little sorry for him. The three of us—I almost said "girls"—the three of us talked about shopping, styles, and tv shows. Ever since I started dressing differently, Kathy had started talking to me differently than she had before. She started telling me about her girl friends, who was talking, who wasn’t. She told me about their relationships, their jobs, their affairs. It was the kind of stuff that I would have called gossip a short time ago but now I found it all absolutely engrossing. I could talk like this all night. I guess this was partly what Kathy meant by us getting closer. Still I noticed that while Kathy, Mary Pat, and I were talking Bob seemed left out.

Later on, we had dessert. Well, everyone else had dessert. I had a lowfat yogurt cup and some diced pineapple. I was down to 120 pounds but I still had that five stubborn extra pounds to lose. Bob had finished his desert and stalked off to the pool to swim laps. I poured Mary Pat and Kathy a fresh cup of coffee and headed off to the pool.

I stood at the side of the pool and watched Bob’s muscular body cut through the water. Even though we owned a pool, I’d never been a particularly strong swimmer. And lately I seemed to be even more timid of the water than usual. I didn’t even like to swim anymore, preferring instead to float on a raft in the sun while working on my tan and reading a romance novel.

Bob reached the side of the pool, tossed the water back from his dark curly hair, and wiped his face with his large, strong hands.

"Coming in?"

I smiled. "Okay."

I kicked off my sandals and still wearing my top I descended the ladder into the shallow end. The cold water lapped against my naked belly.

"Ohhhh," I said and clasped my arms.

"You’ll get used to it," Bob said and splashed me.

"Yikes!" I squealed and threw my hands up. "Don’t"

"Okay, okay you little sissy, " Bob said. He had called me a "sissy" but there wasn’t any meanness in his voice. "Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?"

I shrugged. I didn’t know how to explain it but lately I preferred to keep my chest covered. I just liked the way it looked better.

"No," I said. "I rather keep it on."

Bob grunted. "Suit yourself."

He waded around a little and I tried to think of something to talk to him about. It was strange. I never felt so at a loss for words.

"It’s a nice night," I said.

"Yeah."

I sensed that Bob felt uncomfortable, too. He was usually so confident and at ease. I guess I could understand why he might have felt a little left out when we were with the girls. But, after all, it was just us guys now.

"Do you think the Knicks still have a chance?"

Bob looked at me as if I were hopeless.

"What?" I asked, wondering if I’d said something wrong.

"Basketball season has been over about a month now."

"Really? Oh."

I put my hand to my mouth and giggled to hide my embarrassment. I guess I had just lost track. The truth was that I didn’t really care about that stuff anymore. I don’t think I ever really did. It just seemed that this was what guys talked about. If they didn’t talk about sports and work, what did they talk about? What were they playing now, anyway? Baseball? What teams played that?

"Are the Yankees in the Superbowl again?"

"Oh Jesus."

"Oh no, did I do it again? Don’t tell me, the Superbowl is over?"

Bob rolled his eyes.

"Tell meeeee," I said, faking a pout, my hands on my hips.

"Forget it," Bob said.

He slipped underwater and his body shot swiftly and silently under the surface to where I stood. For a moment I thought he was going to grab me around the legs and pull me under. I knew there would be nothing I could do if he did. I was still trembling a little when he popped out of the water about a foot away from me. He wiped the water from his face with two large, strong hands. He looked over my shoulder as if he wanted to make sure he wasn’t overheard. Then he took another step towards me and fixed his dark eyes on my face. I was afraid, but I didn’t know why.

"Listen dude," he said quietly. "I don’t know what they’re doing to you, but I’m warning you. Pretty soon its going to be too late."

I was really scared now. It wasn’t so much what Bob was saying, but the way he was saying it that frightened me. He seemed so serious.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you’re at the edge. You’ve got to be careful. If you keep going like this…"

Bob let the sentence hang.

The moon was reflected in the water. I stirred it with my hand, admiring how the silver sweetheart ring that had replaced my wedding band glinted on my slender finger.

"I’m not sure I understand," I said.

"All I’m trying to tell you is that pretty soon it’s going to be too late. You’ll have gone too far."

God, he was so much bigger than I was. His arms, his shoulders, his hairy chest. He’d always been bigger, but now the difference in our sizes seemed to be exaggerated. Maybe it was my diet. Certainly, I had gotten a lot thinner over the past several months. I hadn’t done any exercise either; except, of course, for my tummy workouts. I just seemed so, I don’t know, so delicate, compared to Bob. Suddenly, I realized how small and exposed I was standing next to him. I felt totally unable to resist him, no matter what he might do. That feeling of powerlessness was terrifying, but it was something else, too…

"Too far," I said, "for what?"

"Look, do you like yourself like this?"

"Do you?"

Oh god, the question had just kind of popped out. My hand flew to my mouth, but, of course, it was too late. I just stood there, staring at Bob in shock, and then the tears stung my eyes. I was totally humiliated. I couldn’t bear to have him see me a second longer. I turned and rushed from the pool as quickly as I could. I knew what I looked like with my arms held up out of the water but I didn’t care. I was crying openly when I climbed out and I couldn’t find one of my Japanese sandals which only made me cry harder. From behind me, I heard Bob’s calm, strong voice.

"Johnny come back here."

I wanted to go back. Of all the things that had happened, that was the most terrifying of all. I shook my head "no no no." With the one sandal clutched to my chest, I ran through the gate separating the pool from the yard, passed the patio where Mary Pat and Kathy were still chatting, and into the house. They looked up as I passed but I was thankful that they didn’t try to stop me. I ran upstairs to the spare room, locked the door, and threw myself down on the bed. Sometime later, there was a soft knock followed by Kathy’s voice.

"We’re leaving to see the fireworks, love. Please come."

I thought seriously about not going, but I didn’t want to make any more of a scene then I already had. So I got up, dressed, and went downstairs. I was pretty quiet during the short drive to the park where they were having the show. Bob drove and I sat in the passenger seat beside him. Mary Pat and my wife were in the back. I remembered that this was how it was whenever we went out together. Except back then everything seemed so different. Now as the wives talked about some mutual acquaintance from work, Bob and I sat in uncomfortable silence. I stared out the window. It was all I could do to keep from squirming in my seat.

Bob reached over and turned on the radio. There was the loud voice of a commentator over the roar of a crowd. I could tell that it was some kind of sporting event. But what kind I had no idea. Bob seemed to be thinking the same thing I was thinking.

He quickly turned the station.

"Is easy listening, okay?"

I didn’t turn from the window.

"Whatever."

At the park I made it a point to stand next to Kathy. But as the show proceeded I found myself standing a little apart. I was wearing a pair of red short-shorts and a little white top with the slogan "american girl" in red sequins across the front. It was a cool night so I exchanged my sandals for a pair of white platform keds. They were girl sneakers, I know, but Kathy said they made me look taller. I had a white-hooded Tommy Girl fleece pullover tied by the sleeves around my waist. I was in the process of putting it on when I felt someone come up behind me.

"Here, let me help you," Bob said.

I was about to protest, but I figured what was the point. He held the little pullover while I slipped my bare arms inside.

"There," Bob said and smiled. "Snug as a bug."

"Thank you," I said cooly.

It was snug inside the pullover. I was tempted to pull up the hood but I didn’t want to muss up my hair. Instead, I stretched the sleeves over my fingers and hugged myself.

"Still cold?"

"I’m fine."

"Okay," Bob said and smiled again. "Listen, about what happened in the pool…"

I felt myself blush. I couldn’t believe he would bring that up? What was the matter with him?

"I just wanted to say," he paused, as if looking for the words. "That it’s, okay."

I stared resolutely at the sky, as if I could somehow will myself beyond the stars.

"Forget it," I said.

Just then there was a large "boom" and I jumped. Bob’s strong hands caught me by the upper arms. I could feel the heat and strength radiating from his body. I should have pulled away immediately but I didn’t. I heard Bob chuckle softly. Overhead a huge red-white-blue umbrella of light and sparkle filled the night-sky. All around us there were little cries of surprise and admiration. Bob squeezed me tighter.

"The fireworks look so beautiful in your eyes," he said.

I felt like I was going to lose my balance. Had he really said what I thought he said? What did he mean? I was afraid to ask. I was afraid to say anything. Instead, I twisted free of his grasp. He let me go. If he hadn’t, I would never have been able to break away.

"Yeah right," I said and stalked away.

I slept late the next morning. When I came down for breakfast, Kathy was already in the kitchen cleaning up. She turned from the sink, smiling.

"Good afternoon sleepyhead."

"Hi," I said.

She was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit that clung to her perfect body. Still the one-piece covered more than the skimpy royal blue bikini I was wearing. It seemed pretty ironic. I went to the fridge, pulled out the nonfat milk, and fixed myself a bowl of high-fiber GoLean Kashi cereal. I carried it to the table and looked out the window that had a view of the pool. Kathy poured herself another cup of coffee and sat across from me at the table. She seemed to understand that I needed some quiet time. In fact, the night before she suggested that I sleep in the guest room. I stirred my cereal around listlessly with the spoon. I didn’t seem to have much of an appetite at all.

"Kath?"

"What’s bothering you honey?

I decided there was no easy way to say this so I just blurted it out.

"I want to go on hormones."

"Really," Kathy said and sipped her coffee. She didn’t seem at all surprise; or, if she was, she did a good job of hiding it. She had suggested I take hormones weeks before to control my sexual arousal and I had adamantly refused. Now everything was different. "What made you decide?"

"Last night," I started. "In the pool…"

I told her all about my encounter with Bob the night before. I told her how I couldn’t help the thoughts coming into my mind. But even more troubling was the way I was reacting to them. I couldn’t seem to control my unwanted sexual responses anymore. On top of that, the cocksleeve was so uncomfortable. If I stopped getting aroused at all…

"I’m afraid I’m turning gay," I said.

"Oh Johnny, honey, it’s okay," Kathy said.

"It’s not okay. I don’t want to be gay."

"And you think that taking female hormones will keep you from being gay?"

"Won’t it?"

I had just assumed that it would. Now I felt a genuine panic. If taking hormones wouldn’t stop my sexual thoughts, what would?

"Of course they will," Kathy said. "Of course they will. And they will have so many other nice effects on your body."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. You’re skin will get smoother and your hair longer. You’ll no longer have to shave as much. And your body will really start filling out your bathing suits. You won’t have to worry about those skinny thighs much longer." Kathy laughed. "But best of all, you won’t be getting those ugly hard-ons anymore."

Kathy seemed really pleased. I was relieved. Even though she had originally wanted me to take hormones, I wasn’t sure how she would react to my latest revelation. She was incredibly supportive. For like the gazillionth time that summer, I thought how lucky I was to have a wife like Kathy.

"When do you think I can start?"

"I’ll call my gynecologist this afternoon," Kathy said. "And set up an appointment."

Time passed. I had taken up permanent residence in the guest room by now. Kathy said it was good for married couples to have a little space between them. It helped keep things hot and romantic. I was a little confused. We never had sex anymore. But I guess that was the reason she thought maybe separate rooms might help. We decorated the room together. Well, sort of. Kathy always had a flair for interior design so I trusted her judgment.

We shopped for curtains and bedspreads and wall paint and I would pick out one thing and Kathy would show me why my choices were wrong. Everything she said made perfect sense at the time, but still I was a little surprised at how the room eventually came together. Taken one by one, the choices we made didn’t seem that unusual, but the total effect was unmistakable. I wondered how I didn’t see it coming all along. I looked round at the pink walls, the white bedspread with pink baby roses, the white furniture.

"It looks like a girl’s room," I said.

"Honey," Kathy explained patiently. "You okayed every choice we made. We spent a lot of money. Are you saying you don’t like it?"

"No, I guess not," I touched my fingers to a pink satin lampshade. On the wall were soft

muted watercolors: florals and landscapes. It was all very peaceful and relaxing. "It’s very…pretty."

One day, after my ab roller exercises, Kathy presented me with a pretty little white box wrapped in a red bow.

"What’s this for," I said, looking up at her

"A little gift for being such a dear," my wife said. "I wanted to show you how much I appreciate what you’re doing for our relationship. I know how hard you’re trying. "

"I love you so much, Kathy."

"I know you do, sweetie. Now open your gift."

I hastily tore open the daintily wrapped box.

"Oh Kath—"

"Put it on honey."

A few minutes later I stood in the tv room for Kathy’s inspection. I remembered how this had all started almost two months earlier when Kathy bought me a white bikini. That first bathing suit was modest compared to the one I wore now: a little orange doily with a strip of cloth that fit snugly between my ass cheeks. My wife yanked the tiny swimsuit. She pulled the wispy waistband up so that the orange cord dug higher into my butt, pushing the plug I still wore deeper inside me.

"Lots of men are wearing them now," Kathy said. "Someone even wrote a song about them."

"Really?" I said, looking down at myself in the thong.

"Really," Kathy said.

"But its so…revealing. I mean, my whole butt is bare!"

"Well, you did want a chance to show off your tattoo, didn’t you? I mean, you didn’t go through all that pain for nothing."

I looked back at the little interlocking roses tattooed on my brown butt. Some time ago Kathy had taken me to a tattoo parlor. I’d always talked about getting a tattoo. Kathy said she found them really sexy. The interlocking roses weren’t exactly what I’d had in mind, but Kathy thought they were just adorable and the tattoo artist, a huge, bearded biker-type, agreed they were just right for me. I remembered how strange it felt, draped over his lap, while he needled the ink into my naked buttocks.

"I guess you’re right," I said.

"Of course I am. Besides you look absolutely scrumptious."

"Do you think so?" I said, brightening. I loved it when Kathy said she found me sexy. "I feel so…" I giggled. "Exposed."

"That’s the whole point silly." Kathy slapped me playfully on my bare asscheek. "Now run along outside, honey, and get those buns browned. And don’t forget your sunscreen."

I guess I was just being silly. I was making too big a deal of it. And, in time, I got used to the jiggle every time I walked and the feeling of complete exposure. Kathy insisted I wear the bathing suit whenever I was outside on a sunny weekend. I wore it to mow the lawn and wash the car and do other little chores. At first, I thought I must be making quite a spectacle of myself. But after a while, it didn’t seem that it really mattered much. Our neighbors got used to seeing me this way and it was no big deal for me to stand watering the lawn in my bikini and talk to one of the other wives about tv, fashion, relationships, whatever.

The guys kidded me a little at first but, as Kathy said, I think they were just jealous at how well I got along with women. Guys can be like that. After awhile, though, they pretty much settled down and treated me really sweetly. They were always offering to come over and help me when they saw me struggling to do something. Anytime I had to climb a ladder or change the oil or trim a hedge, it seemed one of the guys would show up to do it for me. Our mailman Fred was always chatting me up. He would stand by my lounge chair and offer to put sunscreen on my legs. It got to be kind of a joke. Everyone in the neighborhood was always getting their mail late.

"This is kind of cool," I said to Kathy one day. "I have so many friends now."

By now, the hormones had started taking effect. I no longer got hard-ons any more, which was a big relief. I wouldn’t turn gay. Even when I thought of Bob, my penis would stay soft and flaccid.

"You’re impotent," my wife announced.

The word frightened me a little. Like, wasn’t that supposed to be a bad thing? But Kathy was clearly delighted. She told me that I wouldn’t be getting hard-ons anymore, ever. As a reward, she took off the chastity device. Then she taught me how to hold my butt-plug in place by always squeezing my sphincter shut. The tight thong I wore all the time helped with that.

My nipples were sore and I started to get a little puffiness in my breasts. Kathy told me that it was just a harmless side-effect from the hormones. It was worth putting up with in order not to have hard-ons. It’s better than turning gay, she said. I agreed. Still, it was a little embarrassing. I was even beginning to bounce a little up top. So Kathy suggested that I begin wearing bikini tops.

I was stunned. Certainly this was going too far.

"Kathy I can’t do that. What will people say?"

"Johnny," my wife said patiently, "What are they going to say if they see you are growing breasts?"

She was right. From that day on I wore bikini tops. It wasn’t so bad, really. And with my breasts getting plumper all the time, I realized that I had no choice but to conceal them.

"You like David, don’t you?" Kathy said one evening.

I was kneeling on the floor, painting Kathy’s toenails.

"Yes," I said. "He’s a pretty good guy."

David was the head of marketing at the firm where I worked. We had both started at around the same time. But where my career had languished in middle-management, David was one of those handsome, outgoing, success-driven junior executives who seemed to be on the fast track to bigger and better things. Kathy had met him several times at company Christmas parties and bar-b-cues and the like. He was forever joking that if Kathy ever wanted to dump me for someone with a real future she could make an honest man of him. We always had a great time together.

"That’s good," Kathy said. "I want you to like him."

"I do Kath." I blew on my wife’s freshly-painted toes to dry them.

She was wearing a tunic dress that I’d helped her pick out. It had a sexy square cut neckline in front and back. The hem line rode up over her knees to mid-thigh and showed off her long, toned, and tanned legs. Her hair was smartly pulled back and braided. Her green eyes and full lips made her look a little like Angelina Jolie in the Tomb Raider movie. Her panties, which I could see from where I knelt, were little more than a web of black lace over her shaved pussy. I slipped on her shoes, elegant black-and-gold stiletto sandals, and fastened the little buckles on the straps crisscrossing her delicate ankles.

Kathy reached down and tousled my bleached hair. She no longer wore her wedding or engagement ring.

"I’m so lucky to have a husband who’s not jealous," she said. "I find that so incredibly sexy."

I smiled up at Kathy. I loved it when she said I was sexy. She and David had been going out together for a couple of weeks now. I felt a little uneasy about their relationship at first, but she just seemed so much happier and affectionate towards me ever since they began seeing each other. I figured it couldn’t be a bad thing.

"I love you Kath," I said.

"I love you too honey. Oh, look at the time. David will be here to pick me up any minute now." She grabbed her little black purse from the coffee-table, leaned forward, and pecked me on the cheek. "Enjoy your evening with Bob. You boys don’t get into any trouble now."

"I promise," I said smiling.

Kathy laughed. She headed for the door just as the buzzer rang.

"And don’t wait up."

 

 --to be continued--

  

 

 

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© 2001 by Monika Ikon. 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.