This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only. Do NOT read this if you are under 18 or if you are not an adult according to the laws of your state or country. Do NOT read this if you are offended by fantasies involving sexually explicit material.

Comments welcome to bethjac@hotmail.com

  

The X-Tests

by Bethany Jacques

  

Kathy looked at me, hard. Looked disapprovingly at my legs. Actually I thought my legs were looking mighty fine at that moment, as legs go that is. But she didn't approve. And said so in no uncertain terms.

"Just look at those legs! How much did those stockings cost then? No, don't tell me, more than I'd ever pay I know. Well, that decides it. Aunt Mary's money, we'll use it. You need therapy!"

She'd mentioned the possibility of therapy of some kind a couple of days earlier but I'd been able to dismiss it out of hand on account of the cost.

"Well Victor, if you didn't spend so much of our money on - well, you know, on clothes and makeup and so on, maybe we could afford it."

"But I have to look good don't I? And that costs, doesn't it?"

"NO YOU FUCKING DON'T!!"

She had been shouting , almost uncontrollably, I really did think she was over-reacting and I said so.

"I AM NOT OVER-REACTING!! Sorry, didn't mean to shout. But any wife would be concerned, I mean, with you looking like that. And so smug too."

"I'm not smug, really honey, just pleased to have got a pair of stockings like these at that price. They are a bargain, don't you think, only £17.99?"

She paused. She looked me quite coldly yet with some sympathy in the eyes. "Victor dear, I really do think you need therapy."

And we'd left it at that, I'd spent the evening 'dressed', admiring my legs at every opportunity, we'd not mentioned the subject again. Until two days later, in the evening, when we'd opened the post and realised my Aunt Mary had left us an even bigger sum than we imagined in her will.

"So - no excuses. I've had a word with June over the road, earlier, and before you worry I didn't tell her why. I don't want the neighbours knowing at all about you and your weird habits. She mentioned someone I've already heard of from one of the girls at work. So I've rung the psychiatrist. No arguments. I've arranged an appointment for you next Monday, 5.30, it's this side of Stoke, Dr. Mills has an office at home, works out of there sometimes. We're both going, I want to make sure you get there."

So that was it. Arranged. Trapped. No way out of it. Still, I thought, where's the harm, I'll go along with it for a few sessions to please Kathy.

That next Monday, at 5.30 almost to the dot, we were pulling into the small drive of a largish house on the southern outskirts of the Potteries. I'd tried to cry off with a headache but I'd failed. As we got out of the car a tall well-built and well-tanned man, wearing a typical British male middle class blue pin-stripe suit, came out of the door and strode towards us. Kathy was there first, she shook his hand and began to speak to him as I tried to get the car transmitter to operate the alarm, it was sometimes a bit tricky when the battery was running low. Eventually it worked and I turned to greet the guy myself.

"Hi there, Victor Carter, pleased to meet you."

I always think I can sum someone up very quickly indeed, comes in useful when I am interviewing people and so on. This guy, I thought, I can cope with. Outdoor type, strong-willed, probably into sports and so on. It occurred to me that if I played my cards right I could spend most of the so-called 'counselling' sessions talking about rugby and football and so on.

"Clive Mills, do come on in, Mr. Carter. My wife will be along in a moment."

I knew what that meant, or thought I did. She was going to take my wife away somewhere, probably have tea or something while Clive and I did the session. I was wrong. As we entered the door, Mrs Mills appeared. And she was indeed striking. Shouldn't have surprised me really, he was a handsome guy, she was an attractive woman. Together they did indeed look what I supposed they were, a couple of professional people who were suited to each other and had their lives under control. I wondered what line of work she was in. I soon found out.

"Good evening, Dr. Mills, I'm Kathy Carter and this is my husband Victor."

DOCTOR Mills. Shit. A woman doctor, Kathy hadn't mentioned that. Were they both doctors? But no. Clive spoke.

"Melissa dear, I'll take Mrs Carter through to the lounge later if you want to see Mr Carter alone later. Does that sound OK?"

"Thanks Clive. OK you two, through here, into the lion's den. I always do that joke, it's not really funny is it? But please don't feel intimidated, Victor, I'm here to offer help if I can. I should only need a brief discussion today to decide if I want to take the case on. With both of you first, though, to sort out the ground rules. OK?"

She sounded confident. Competent, In control, like I said. But a woman? Was I going to have to tell a WOMAN why I was here? But of course Kathy must have given her some idea already.

"Please sit down. We'll have do some tea in a few minutes but let's sort out what we can first shall we, who's going to start? I know some details, but I want to hear them from you, to hear the context. Mrs Carter, tell me, how long have you been married?"

Kathy started out, in fact she carried on for quite a few minutes which seems unfair since all this was supposed to be in some way to help me. Not that I thought I needed help of course, I mean, I was quite happy with things as they were. I could see Kathy's point of view but I thought she was over-reacting herself. I mean, what harm was I doing - to anyone.

"It was alright up to then ....." I hadn't been really listening, I have to admit I had been admiring Dr. Mills' hands, her nails were exquisitely sculpted, wow that really was turning me on, even in that situation.

".... that was when it got too much, I mean, he's spending more on clothes than I am, all fashionable stuff, when he's prettied up ..... he's better dressed than I am, it's not fair, and I can't talk to anyone about it, I mean, his figure, when he's wearing a basque or a bustier, they're not cheap, you know, and ..."

Kathy had been going on and on, rambling more and more. She chatted on for a few minutes, then Dr. Mills started to get into the meat of the situation

"So Victor, tell me, just how did you start out dressing in women's clothes? What was the initial prompt, if you can remember?"

I was surprised to find her being so forward and, though I started to tell her I kept glancing at Kathy. I'd never told her the whole story and was a little worried how she would react to find out it had been going on so long. Dr. Mills must have sensed my discomfort, she interrupted me.

"Kathy, why don't you go along to the kitchen, it's just down the hall. Clive should be there, he'll make you some tea. Victor and I have to talk on our own for a little while I think."

As Kathy left, Dr. Mills turned towards me.

"Victor, before you go on, let me tell you that I've heard enough to persuade me to take on your case. I don't want to go on too long today, Clive and I are going out to dinner this evening but there's just one thing I always do with new clients. I want you to listen very carefully, I want to tell you about what therapists call the 'extreme solutions'"

"Extreme?" I queried, sounding maybe a little worried by her use of the word.

With which she stood up, walked round the desk towards me, and sat facing me on the edge of the desk. And crossed her legs! I was ecstatic! From that close up I realised just how attractive a woman she was. In some ways a transvestite's fantasy, the 'business-woman' look I had seen and admired on so many websites. Harsh but well-cut business suit, creamy silk-look blouse. And the legs, in black tights I assumed, it was too much to hope she was wearing stockings. In fact as her hem slid up as she wriggled to get comfortable, I am sure I would have seen a tell-tale sign of stocking tops if she was wearing them. I was suddenly distinctly uncomfortable. She noticed that.

"No, Victor. I'm wearing tights, not stockings. I do know about cross-dressers' fantasies you know."

How had she guessed? Then I realised. She was a therapist, a trained counsellor, obviously, she had to in some way get inside the mind of the person she was dealing with. Or maybe I was reading too much into this? Christ though, she was suddenly, to me, a very attractive woman. How I'd like to ....

"Victor. Would you like to fuck me?"

Shit! Was I that transparent?

"Well, you have to put all such thoughts out of your mind. And please don't get upset or over-excited. We have to trust each other. Our sessions are confidential, you know. I won't even tell your wife what we discuss, not without your express permission. I am a woman after all, and I do know the effect I have on men. In a world like this one I use whatever weapons I have in my armoury, my legs and tits included, short of actually having sex or course, that would be unprofessional. Please, if I have to use sexual language, don't be offended. There is an obvious sexual connotation to most cross-dressers' behaviour, we have to discuss these things. And I have to study your reactions. However, I'll move."

With which she slid off the desk, making sure the skirt didn't move up any more, and went back round to the other side of the desk. I took the opportunity, while she was facing away, to rapidly adjust my trousers between my legs, to ease the growing discomfort there.

"Now Victor, the extremes. By that I mean the outcomes of our consultations. My advice after we have finished our sessions. It may be moderate, small changes to your lifestyle and Kathy's. Or it may be more major, for one or both of you. OK?"

I had calmed a little, and listened attentively, trying to look at her face rather than her figure. But even that got me a little excited, I was studying her make-up, looking at how she had done her eye-shadow.

"Victor. Concentrate. Now, it may be that I decide that your cross-dressing has to stop, that it is not an appropriate mode of behaviour. That it really is rather silly and is causing Kathy too much grief. That you seek some other outlet for your energies, one which you and Kathy can share. Not exactly football or fishing or whatever, but some non-sexual hobby. Foreign holidays maybe, I don't know at this stage. How does that grab you?"

I realised I hadn't spoken for quite some time. I cleared my throat.

"Well, doctor. I'm not too sure at the moment. I do enjoy my hobby, that's how I see it. But I do realise it is a rather private thing, I mean, I can't go down to the pub with Kathy dressed, things like that. But I would miss the dressing, right now I really do think I would."

"OK. Understood, Victor. And what about the other extreme. I might decide you are a woman."

"What?" I exclaimed. I didn't understand. "But I'm not. Obviously."

"There's nothing at all obvious about it, Victor. Just sometimes a person is born in the wrong sort of body. Someone with very strong feminine tendencies is born in a male body, for example. He, or rather she, is usually pretty miserable about it. Cross-dressing goes part of the way but sometimes more drastic action is needed."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like GRS - gender re-assignment surgery."

I didn't like the sound of that but I was rather intrigued.

"You must have heard of it, Victor. There have been a few well-publicised cases but there have been many more. "

"So what does that involve?"

"Making a man's body into a real woman's, not just dressing him up. Usually hormones to change the metabolism, maybe breast implants, maybe hair implants. And castration of course. Removal of the penis followed by the fashioning of a vaginal cavity."

I shivered at the thought.

"But, Victor, that is an extreme example. And it wouldn't happen without an awful lot of consultation and discussion, with you and with Kathy, and ..."

"But - I mean - what would happen to us. To me and Kathy I mean, if ...."

"As I said, Victor, that's the extreme scenario. If it DID happen - well - the marriage would be over of course, two women can't legally be married. You could still live together, as lesbians maybe, or as two good friends, go out together maybe. But that's a long way off. Let's just get through the next few weeks first, shall we? I'd like a brief word with Kathy alone first, if I may."

We went through into the kitchen, and found her reading a cookery book. Very smart kitchen, it was too, obviously this couple had done well for themselves.

"Er - Melissa. Clive's gone into town, said he had forgotten something."

"OK Kathy, I know what it is, the wine for this evening. But listen, both of you. Don't worry about Clive. Actually he's very rarely here this early, he does work so hard. He's not a doctor, so there are no client-doctor relationship problems. He's a lawyer in fact. But we must move on."

So Kathy had ten minutes alone with Dr. Mills - 'Melissa', she's called her, nice name for a nice woman. Then we all shook hands and we headed home, having arranged for me to have my first 'proper' session the next Monday at the same time. As we turned onto the M6 Kathy asked me 'Well, Victor, what do you think?'

I paused to let a large lorry overtake me, then replied.

"I have to admit, Kathy, I wasn't too sure when we got there. I thought Clive was the doctor! But Dr. Mills seems OK, she knows what is what, I only hope we can get something sorted out to satisfy us both."

And that night we made love. Very satisfactorily, something we hadn't managed to do for quite a while.

The next weekend I didn't dress. Usually I did at the weekend, and sometimes of an evening midweek too, I think it was because I was doing it so often that Kathy had become concerned. That and the fact that she didn't see what I got out of it either. And the Monday and Tuesday I didn't do anything connected with my 'hobby'. Wednesday I did but I overcame the urge. I overheard a discussion between two of the girls in the canteen at work, going on about a shop one of them had found where she had got a skirt at a very good price. On another occasion I'd maybe have called in at the shop on the way home, I realised it was on my way. But I didn't. However I DID make a mental note. For another occasion maybe?

Right on time the next week I pulled up nervously at the doctor's house. I was pleased in a way that I'd managed not to actually 'dress' or indeed do any TV-related stuff in the intervening seven days. I had suffered a bit, maybe from some sort of withdrawal symptoms, and had complied in almost every way - until I stopped at the motorway service station on the way to the appointment. The store had all sorts of stuff in it, not just cigarettes and sweets and newspapers There was, almost right next to the entrance, a branch of 'Sock Store' - selling accessories, not just socks, but ties and belts and some women's things. Including stockings. And right next to the cash desk was a display of what the store called 'dress hosiery'.

'Just the sort of thing to attract a trannie', I thought. And there, facing me, enticing me, was one of those hosiery models, you know the sort of thing, a pair of big plastic legs wearing hose. But this one was - well! Fishnets! I'd always fancied myself in fishnets but I'd never bought any. These were black, with a finer mesh than most I'd seen and with a sheen to then that began to turn me on. Even there, even in that franchise outlet in a motorway service station. I just had to have them - less than a tenner they were.

I felt guilty as soon as I'd bought them and hid them in the glove compartment of the car as soon as I got in. Just in case the doctor should for any reason look into the car. I'd gone a whole week without succumbing to my desires, then given in at the last minute. Shit. But they were lovely stockings!

When I rang the bell Dr. Mills answered the door herself, this time wearing a slightly male-looking suit. But no guy I know ever made a pin-stripe suit look so good! I followed her through into her office and we sat down facing each other across her desk.

"OK Victor, let's get started. Now I'm not one of those counsellors who thinks absolutely everything in us comes from our childhood, parents get blamed for far too much in my opinion. However it would help me form a picture to see just where you are coming from. So why don't you give me a potted history, a 'This is your Life' of Victor Carter. In your own time, we've got nearly an hour left."

I had almost expected something like that so I was ready, I told Melissa about my upbringing, school, college, little out of the ordinary really - except when I started to like wearing my mother's clothes and some of my sister's when I was about 18.

Dr. Mills continued with more questions. Understandably really, after all she was there to find out what was making me tick. Or at least to investigate what my wife thought of as my unfortunate hobby. The questions became more and more probing until - she rather caught me on the hop.

"So you started at 18? Rather late, Victor, most cross-dressers start much earlier. Any idea WHY you started, at that particular time?"

Actually I did have, a very definite idea. I had wondered whether to tell her. But she was good at her job, it was easy talking to her, she asked a couple of questions very gently and with a rather sexy tone to her voice, implying it was going to be all right to tell her about it.

I paused to think. Was I going to tell the truth? I looked across at her, again thinking what an attractive woman she was despite the lack of skirt. She had moved round the desk and was sitting, knees crossed, on it. I observed her feel, or her shoes rather. Not like my trannie HIGH heels but probably 3", maybe 3 1/2". I was good at estimating that sort of thing. And wearing tights maybe, certainly not stockings.

"In case you're wondering, Victor, yes I do like to wear high heels, it does give a more feminine appearance. And these are knee-highs, I know most cross-dressers prefer stockings. Did you wear stockings that first time?"

I had decided - I liked her. I liked her a lot. And I wanted to keep on coming, at least while I was enjoying it. And it was in some ways a relief to talk to someone else about all this.

"Well, Melissa, that first time. I didn't actually dress. It was - someone else who started me off.

"Someone else? Another cross-dresser? You said you had not met any others, you said the dressing was a solo thing for you. Just for you and your wife. Oh, and. I think you'd better call me Dr. Mills. Let's not get too friendly shall we, keep it professional. Now. Who was this?"

"My Aunt June."

"Your Aunt? She started you dressing? How?"

"Oh no - er - Dr. Mills. Not like that. It was just one time when I went to stay with her. I really fancied her daughter, her step-daughter actually, she wasn't really related to me. But she was a real doll, very attractive. It must have been when I was about 18, full of hormones, you know. God's gift to girls, I thought. I'd gone down to Portsmouth to stay a couple of days - and I admit to try to get off with Lara, that was the daughter. But it was Aunt June turned me on."

"Well, this is rather surprising, Victor, do tell, how?"

She turned to pick up a pad and started to take notes again. I wondered exactly what she was writing? I continued.

"Aunt June was a very beautiful woman, and she knew it. Always dressed for the men, she had about three husbands I think. Uncle John - her current one - was the second I think, we've lost track a little in our family. Anyway she knew he was already having an affair with a woman from work, they'd been married about a year at the time if I remember it right. But she had decided she wanted a piece of the action too. So while he was away in the States she had got herself a date with her boss. Or maybe her boss's boss. Anyway I remember when she came downstairs on her way out, to tell me and Lara to 'be good, and if you can't be good be careful' while she was out. I remember even now what she looked like."

Dr Mills looked at me and smiled. "Go on."

"Well, like I said she was very attractive but she'd really gone to town. Short tight dress, really low cut to show off her cleavage, a deep blue it was, matching shoes, maybe 4" heels, black stockings, I'm sure they were stockings. And very nicely made up indeed, all the accessories, gold earrings, rings, long nails, lovely make-up and so on. She looked every young man's wet dream, it was difficult for me with Lara there in T-shirt and jeans, I'd have loved her to wear something like that. But it was when Auntie's date turned up, his eyes were on stalks. Quite natural really. Even in the two minutes he was in the house, she was taunting him with a flash of thigh and so on. The poor guy hadn't a chance, he did everything she asked, he was like a puppy on a lead. It was the power which struck me, she could do anything she wanted with him. I admired her for that in some way, even more than for just looking great. I wondered what it would be like to have such power, and how I could get it. "

"And you and Lara?"

"Well, we had great sex that evening. But I admit, I didn't to her, that in my mind as we did it I was screwing Aunt June. I felt a bit guilty about that for a while afterwards but we hardly saw each other after that. "

"OK. So when did you actually dress up for the first time?"

"About a week later, I was back home and on my own for an evening. I tried on some of my elder sister's clothes, seeing if I could get the same effect."

"And did you?"

"Nowhere near. But I did continue on-and-off for a year or so, until I went to college."

We chatted on for a few minutes, me giving Dr. Mills more and more details of my increasing involvement with 'cross-dressing', buying things for myself, hiding it in the loft and eventually coming out to my wife a few months earlier. I had been delighted that she hadn't taken it too badly, seemed to be able to cope with my occasional dressing up, even my buying women's magazines to look at the hints and tips on clothing, on accessories and make-up and so on. Finally I had to admit to maybe going too far and the 'climax' we had, when my wife realised that though she had apologised to me about buying a new dress for a party I had myself bought a more expensive dress for myself just to wear about the house. And she had realised just how much I had spent on a pair of black seamed stockings.

"OK Victor, thanks for putting it all in perspective. Now, what about sex?"

"Pardon?"

"Sex. You have to admit this whole thing is in some way sex-related. After all you are dressing as a woman and, if I read what Kathy and you are saying, you positively like looking and behaving like a sexy woman, at least at home. High heels and stockings and all. So how has all this affected your sex life? Still getting enough?"

I was very surprised that Dr. Mills put the question quite so bluntly but I realised I had to answer honestly, to give her the full picture.

"Well. I would be lying if I said that there has been no effect at all. Really there wasn't much until a few months ago. That's when Kathy started getting really worried and I have to admit so did I. I really didn't want to stop dressing, still don't really. But I really can't do it as well or as often as I used to. Maybe it's nothing to do with the TV stuff, I don't know..."

"OK Victor, that's really for me to try to find out. I have to ask you about your sex life. And in fact about your sexual habits. Ever fucked another woman?"

I was a little shocked, I hoped she would have realised from the way Kathy and I behaved that none of that had ever done anything like that, we wouldn't.

"No!" I almost shouted.

"OK Victor, keep your hair on, I have to ask. Any 'different' sexual habits? Doing it in weird places? Anal sex maybe."

"ER - no, we've always been pretty straightforward in that respect."

I must have expressed my doubts the way I answered, Dr. Mills looked up from her notepad and smiled at me.

"Don't worry, Victor, lots of people do different things even within stable relationships. Clive used to, you know, my husband, used to screw his ex-girlfriend up the arse. Before he met me of course."

I was amazed, first that her husband would do such a thing. I'd only met him the once of course, and very briefly at that. He'd seemed such a straight guy in every sense of the word. An ordinary business man, a lawyer I think she'd said. And also I was surprised that she'd actually told me. Maybe...

"And no, before you even think it, we haven't, I think Clive is maybe a little disappointed, he's suggested it one or two times but it's not my scene, I prefer - well - just plain 'vanilla' sex, I think that's how it's referred to. "

Dr. Mills went on for quite a while longer, asking me about my sexual habits, she seemed disappointed when I have nothing at all saucy to talk about. Eventually she stood up.

"OK Victor, I think that will do us today. Same time next week?"

Very quickly she shook my hand and showed me out. I drove home, thinking about the conversation, thinking about what she had revealed to me - and everything I had told her. Kathy was obviously very interested when I got home As soon as I had sneaked upstairs - 'to go to the loo' - and hidden the fishnets, I gave her an almost complete report on the session. She seemed disappointed that I was going back again.

"Look honey, obviously she couldn't do everything in such a short time. Anyway next week she's going to do some tests on me. "

"Tests?"

I had wondered myself exactly what she had meant. After another week without any trannie involvement at all I drove back to the doctor's house. This time I had managed to keep my promise. No lingerie, no make-up, nothing.

"Well done Victor" she said when I told her. "OK, sit down here please, as I promised I want to try out a test here. Just roll up your sleeve please"

I did as she asked, she wrapped a plastic strip round my lower arm and then connected it to a notebook computer on her desk.

"This is an amazing test, Victor. Very efficient. Used to take over an hour to do with two of us and loads of flashcards, then maybe four hours to analyse. Now it takes twenty minutes and three key presses and gives instant analysis. The wonders of modern technology, So get comfortable now."

I sat. Waiting. As the doctor finished typing and setting things up she turned and smiled at me.

"I'm ready, Victor. Don't worry. All this does is measure your responses, your heart rate, pulse intensity, sweat rate and so on. Five indicators in all, when you respond to the images on screen. Let's try the dry run first. When I press 'ENTER' the program will show a series of pictures. Press this keypad, within ten seconds. '1' if you like the picture, '3' if you hate it and '2' for in-between. Like this, go on."

She pressed the 'ENTER' key and a picture appeared, of a boy and girl sat on a bench eating ice cream. I had to smile, it wasn't at all what I expected. I looked at the doctor, she smiled too and indicated that I should respond. I pressed '1', it was a nice photo. Other pictures followed, a view of the countryside, a crashed car, a map of England with rivers marked on it - I pressed '2' for that - and a final photograph of a gun.

"Right, that's just the test, the calibration run to get the control levels. There are fifty pictures here. Ready? Off we go."

And the first this time was different. It was of Madonna, at her most vamp-ish, pointed bra and fishnets, looking just plain lustful. I just had to press '1'. Immediately the image changed. To another 'woman', except I knew it wasn't. The pose was similar, the outfit was black and leather and shiny and tight and lust personified - and I recognised it. Heck, I'd downloaded it, that very .jpg was on my hard drive at home. Maxine Maxx, female impersonator extraordinaire, according to her web-site one of the most popular - in every sense of the word - transvestites in the Midlands. I'd visited her site often, just fantasising one day that I'd meet her on Broad Street or in the Palisades or wherever. Her 'About Me' page showed me she was local, well local-ish. OK, I could dream couldn't I? I snapped out of my reverie and pressed '1' and a photo of the F.A. Cup appeared. Weird!

I don't remember what I pressed then, maybe '1' or '2', or many of the other photos which came up. Except two or three which stood out. One followed a picture of two dogs - at it. Or rather a dog and a bitch, you could see the dog's hard rod up his mate. The next was a man - doing it to a bitch, a dog bitch that is. I'm not into bestiality of any sort, it just revolted me - I pushed '3'. I'd have given it four if I'd been able to, my stomach turned. The next image was of an apple!

But most were of people including two of sex scenes with children, '3' again, both of them. There were loads of other lewd pictures too, cut into scenes of countryside, fruit, clothes, household appliances, maybe half sex scenes, half neutral images. Some trannie pictures, some gay scenes, some of straight sex. James Bond was in there somewhere, stripped to the waist, and one of the Spice Girls in a state of undress. The final one I remember, at first I thought it was to calm me down after the excitement, it showed a couple walking hand-in-hand through a forest. Then I realised. 'She' was Maxine Maxx again, in ordinary femme garb, summer dress and nude tights. Not looking at all like the sex-bomb I knew, but really looking very lovely.

I pressed '1' and the slide show stopped. I looked across at Dr. Mills who was watching me with interest. I realised I was wet through, I'd sweated so much over the few minutes of the test my shirt was almost dripping.

"Victor, I need to say now, some of those were photo-manipulations, like they say 'no children or animals were harmed in the making of...' "

I laughed.

Dr. Mills pressed a key on the PC and unwrapped the strap from my arm. She left the room briefly and came back with a can.

"Like a beer? You probably need it after that."

I laughed again. Indeed I did need it, I'd not been so refreshed by a beer for a long time, I drank it almost straight down. The doctor moved to look at the screen and studied it for a moment, then turned to address me.

"Like I said Victor, instant results analysis. And very interesting too. In fact very surprising indeed. I've used this test on several clients before but I've never seen results like this. You certainly are a very different kind of guy."

"In what way?" I was worried and tried to peer over at the screen. At first the doctor turned it away but then she changed her mind and moved it so that I could see. The screen showed an 'X' shape. With four blobs on the arms of the 'X'. One very near the top right, one on the bottom left arm and the other two on the other branches of the 'X'.

"This is a representation of your sexuality, Victor. The four indices. And very different from any man, or woman, I've seen before. Wow!"

I suddenly got very worried and then noticed the four numbers on screen at the ends of the arms of the 'X'.

"94? What's that?" I asked.

She looked again. "The indices show your sexuality, as I said. Straight/gay across the screen, male/female down it. The numbers are percentages but you don't just add them, it's a complex mathematical thing to mix them. 94% straight male. OK, so whatever I recommend it won't be castration. You are predominantly just that, a straight heterosexual man so your cock is safe. Well, you're in a fairly stable marriage so I think I was always going to find that. Relieved?"

"I suppose so" I replied. "I do admit I was a little worried by your comments last week, was it? I mean, I agreed to do all this, I wasn't at all sure but I can see the point of it now, at least knowing that is reassuring. But you said you were surprised. By what?"

"It's the other indices, Victor. Below 94%, OK. But look at that. Straight and female - 57%!!"

"What does that mean? I'm half woman? But you said..."

"No, Victor, not half." She took my hand to reassure me and stroked with her fingers. Suddenly I began to become interested again.

"Now Victor, don't get any ideas. Anyway Clive is due back in about twenty minutes. But it does explain the cross-dressing, in some way a part of you wants to be female, or at least to be seen as a female. And especially by men, that's the 'straight' part. Most women like to be admired by men and so would you. You said you've never been seen dressed by anyone except Kathy? Well we will have to do something about that."

I looked at her again, she was still holding my hand.

"OK. Next week, can you come a little earlier? I've another client I'm seeing here at 4.15, can you be here at 4 o'clock?"

I was puzzled, but I said yes, I'd have to arrange to leave work earlier but I could manage that.

"Why 4 o'clock? Do you want me to meet your other client?"

"Oh no. Sessions have to be confidential. But I want you to bring some clothes with you, some of your female clothes. We can set up the guest room for you to change in. I want to 'meet' Victoria! It is Victoria isn't it?"

I was amazed. I'd not been expecting that at all. Dress? For my doctor? I wasn't sat all sure.

"Victor, you really must. I have to see what I'm dealing with here. You are high on all the indices, your gay male and lesbian factors are both well above 25%! I'm intrigued, you really do have a wide sexual base in you somewhere, I need to see all the aspects. So, bring something suitable, smart or smart casual, not too glitzy. Just for wearing in the house, maybe in the garden if it's fine. Don't worry, it's totally private out there. You'll have time to change while I'm doing my other consultation. Then we'll see what we can see. OK?"

I had to agree. But what would Kathy feel about it all? I hated to think.

"She wants you to WHAT??!!"

Kathy was almost screaming at me. Understandably really. I mean the original reason for my visits was, in her eyes, to 'cure' me of my cross-dressing habits. And here I was asking her about clothing suitable for a visit to my therapist - 'dressed'. The evening of that last session, after I'd got home, I hadn't mentioned that fact. Just gave her a brief resume of the visit and the questions and the test program, and the results. She didn't understand all the results, not sure I understood it all myself, but she was as relieved as me that I wouldn't be for the chop, that I was going to stay male.

But six days later as I was sorting things ready for the next day I had to tell her. In fact I wanted to ask her, my thoughts had meandered this way and that was over the week as to exactly what to take with me. No real glamour stuff, that was what the doctor had said. Which ruled out my prize possession, my 6" black patent stilettos, and some of the other stuff I had. In the end I'd decided on the classic 'power-dressed' look, my tailored business suit with black stockings and heels. The jacket and skirt were a deep grey with a burgundy stripe which would give me an excuse to wear my purple bra-and-panties set. And it was a comfortable size 12, not tight, I could cope well with wearing it - for the first time - in public!

Well not exactly in public but certainly in front of someone else, not just Kathy. And unlike some of my home cross-dressing activities I was determined to go totally ALL the way, from wig to toenails and absolutely everything in-between. Which is why I was asking Kathy.

"Well honey. Will it? Will this blouse look OK with the suit, I mean, I know the colour is OK but what about the style. It's not overtly sexy I know but I think maybe I will still look attractive."

"Attractive? Sexy? Listen to yourself, Victor. Look you're supposed to be getting better and here you are asking me what you should wear. I mean, that blouse, where did you get it? I've not seen that one before. And what did it cost you? Or rather what did it cost US?"

"Alright Kathy, it's new. But if Dr. Mills wants to see how I look I really do have to make the effort don't I?"

She couldn't really answer that, except to ask me what the blouse had cost again. She was surprised when I told her, or rather when I said it was 'under £30'.

"Is it a size 12?"

"Yes it is actually, I think it's a rather small size 12 actually, why?"

"I could wear that!"

"You mean you'd like to borrow it?"

"And why not! Why should you have all the nice things?" Her voice was rather strident, then softened. "It would go very well with that deep blue suit I wore at Angela's wedding. Do you think it would?"

A concession! A bloody concession! For the first time in ages Kathy had asked me a question about clothes, about my femme clothing that is, without insulting me - well, not really. She was genuinely interested in my opinion. I had to jump on it, to make the most of the opportunity. I wasn't really too sure where the sessions with the doctor would end up, I really was a little confused after that previous meeting but this was a chance not to be missed. But I still had to get, in a sense, 'permission' to wear it, indeed to dress at all when I went to visit the doctor. I chose my words and my tone carefully.

"I think that would be a very good idea, love. Tell you what. I'll wash it, carefully of course, it is rather delicate, after tomorrow evening. How about we go down the pub on Friday, it would look good with just the skirt and a jacket maybe?"

I decided to chance my arm.

"You'd look really sexy in that - with a black bra underneath!"

Kathy looked at me, just for a moment I thought I'd blown it.

"You're right, that would give Jack an eyeful wouldn't it?"

I risked it again.

"Two eyefuls" I added with a grin.

Jack was the new landlord at the pub, we'd only met him a couple of times but he'd already made an impression on Kathy. Joking and flirting a bit and paying her way over-the-top compliments and so on, the sort of things landlords can get away with. Everyone expects it, specially when the husband - in this case me - is there.

I got away with it again, Kathy smiled, then surprised me.

"Which shoes are you going to wear? Not your trannie high heels I hope."

"Oh no, they wouldn't do at all. I thought about my other black high heels, I know they're a bit high, about 4" heels I think. But I do want to look smart."

We chatted on for a few minutes more. Kathy ended up carrying the blouse upstairs for me and just briefly trying it on while I was in the bathroom. I emerged to find her - in the blouse, with a black bra and panties and nothing else.

"Christ, Kathy, I wish I looked that good!" I said, not fully realising what I was saying about my own wishes, dreams, hopes. But she let it pass and threw her arms round me.

"If you want to we could...."

Hell, I hadn't thought about it but - of course I could. I grabbed her hard round the arse and pulled her hard to me and kissed her.

"Wait Victor, better let me take this off, you don't want to crease it!"

Quite what had caused the change round I didn't know but right then I didn't care. I had Kathy's tacit consent to 'dress up' in front of Melissa - Dr. Mills I should say - at least for the moment. I think it may have been that as well as Kathy's promiscuous posing which excited me so much that evening, we made love more successfully than we had for quite a while.

I must admit that, despite all that, Kathy had cooled a little the next morning. As I sipped my final cup of coffee before leaving, she was starting later and working later that day, she was hesitant.

"Victor, are you sure about this? I mean, getting dressed up in front of the doctor? Won't you feel a bit silly?"

Maybe but I wanted to do it, I wanted to so much.

"Well Kathy, she suggested it, I have to really don't I? Don't worry, it'll be OK. Gotta go, hon, see you later."

With which I gave her a slightly more affectionate kiss than on most mornings and headed off to work. That day was difficult. I only worked the morning, I'd manage to swap for a weekend shift with a friend of mine, he wanted to go see Villa and was due to be working the day they were playing in the cup. I joked with him.

"Better go, Len, it's Walsall isn't it? So you're probably not going to be in the next round!"

A couple of jokes like that got me through to lunchtime when I drove home. Ready for a 'doctor's appointment' the like of which I'd never imagined. Of course in my private moments I'd spent hours over the previous week thinking and planning, everything had to be just right. I had the routine planned. I stripped and showered, using first a depilatory cream to remove my own rather light body hair, then with Kathy's 'Charlie' shower gel which gave me such a delightful feminine smell. I'd rarely used fragrances before, afraid of the lingering after-effects. But this time I didn't care, this was to be a special occasion.

The hair-removal made more of a difference than I thought it would, not really much to my 'look' but certainly to my 'feel' - my legs seemed rather cold when I slid my trousers on. The one bit of trannie-preparation I could do there and then I did, painting my toenails in my favourite cherry red colour, something I'd always wanted to do but never had. I finished dressing and headed out in good time, arriving at the doctor's house just a few minutes early.

"OK Victor, I'll be all ready for you in about an hour. My other appointment is in a few minutes so I'll have to leave you. Come on upstairs, you can use the guest bedroom. I've cleared it already, it has an en-suite if you need to shower - though you do smell rather nice, have you done that already?"

I followed her not too closely behind, admiringly. Maybe because of the other client, she had abandoned the slacks and was wearing a skirt, quite a tight one at that. Then the doorbell rang downstairs.

"Oh - she's here. Good luck, Victor, see you later" called out Dr. Mills as she headed off downstairs. I gazed after her, hoping my own legs would end up looking nearly as good as hers. I admit it, I'm a tranny, I'm vain. I collected my thoughts.

OK. Just over one hour to get myself ready for inspection. I opened my case and laid my stuff out across the bed. Then I stripped. I had changed my mind on the outfit I would wear several times and knew very well what a woman goes through when getting ready for a night out. I slipped into my deep red lace bra - why did I think my bra and panties had to match my nails? - and slid my breast-forms into the cups.

I hadn't told Kathy about them, embarrassed about the cost. She'd actually seen me wearing them but probably assumed I'd stuck socks in my bra or something. For speed's sake I'd decided not to stick them on though I really wanted to - I had got very good at hiding the edge by merging light make-up over the top to tone in with my own skin. But not this time. I clipped the matching garter belt round my waist and pulled on a new pair of black stockings. I slipped my matching red lace bikini panties up my legs and tucked my male organ tightly away between my legs. Didn't want to spoil the effect did I?. The red waist cincher was a bit uncomfortable at first but I knew as I moved a bit I'd get used to it.

I had learned a lot from Kathy's women's magazines - and mine - about make-up and accessories and so on. I ever-so-carefully applied my foundation, eyeliner, eye-shadow, mascara and a hint of blusher - all from the Lancôme set I'd bought for myself that Kathy had been so jealous of.

"How come I have to make do with the cheap stuff?" she'd asked.

"Because I need the quality make-up don't I, it's difficult to get me looking good without spending on good make-up." I'd replied. Obvious really but she didn't really get my point.

I finished with a deep shade of cherry lipstick, then slid on a coat of lip gloss to make my lips shine - I loved that bit. I brushed out my 'dark blonde' shoulder length wig and revelled in the sensation as it cascaded down and around my face completing the look I was after. I looked in the mirror - I was thrilled with the results! This was going better than ever before even though I was so uptight about the situation. I looked at my watch - one of Kathy's 'fashion' pieces, the colour didn't quite match my outfit but it sort-of blended ok. Nearly quarter past five, I realised I had better try to hurry just a little. The butterflies that had invaded my stomach when I started dressing were now beginning to calm down, this was going to work!

I slipped into cream-coloured blouse and then stepped into the skirt of my so-called business suit. It was tight but hell - what trannie worth her salt minds that? I shuffled the skirt round a little to get it comfortable, noticing the slight splits in the side-seams. Another trannie fantasy, sitting and crossing my legs so that.... No. Not now. Get finished, girl! I stepped into my black four-inch heels and walked over to the dresser to put on the jewellery I had brought with me. Two gold bracelets on my left wrist, a gold necklace with a heart pendant, which nestled teasingly just above my so-called cleavage, and long, clip on, dangly gold earrings. To finish the picture I put gold and diamond (effect) rings on three fingers of each hand.

Now for the test. While looking down, I slowly walked over to the full length mirror. I started to lift my gaze drinking in what I saw. By the time I got to my face I knew that all the time I had spent preparing had been so very well worth it. Maybe I looked good enough to go out in the daylight. Maybe not. But for this purpose - fine!

Trying hard not to think about the reason I was doing this, I sprayed just a little 'Parfum' behind my ears and in my 'cleavage', took one more look in the mirror, picked up my purse double checking the contents and breathed in. My 'breasts' swelled - I loved it! This was even better than I'd ever managed before. I really did believe I looked every inch a woman. And - arrogantly perhaps, and attractive woman at that.

"Hello? Victor? Ready? I'll be in the kitchen, would you like a coffee?"

I heard Kathy calling from the foot of the stairs, I had been so engrossed. I heard in the distance a car starting, that must have been that previous client. So she was finished. Ready for me. My tummy quivered. I opened the door a little so I could call without shouting.

"Yes. Fine". That's all. Just the two words, but it was the way I spoke rather than what I said which mattered. I'd been practising on my own all week, sometimes with my Dictaphone, listening to what I sounded like, trying to modulate my voice to sound really feminine. With limited success , I have to admit, and anyway it was really difficult to tell, the quality of sound from the little speaker in my machine wasn't brilliant.

But I did think I'd managed to make a difference, trying to speak more softly and trying just a little to put a bit of sing-song into my voice. Difficult to express but - well, here goes. I picked up the jacket and headed off, out of the door, along the small corridor, down the stairs, carefully in my heels, along the hall - and into the kitchen. Dr. Mills was just pouring hot water into two cups. I waited until she had finished.

"Hello there."

The voice was surprisingly calm considering my internal confusion and rumblings. Dr. Mills turned to look at me. I smiled.

"OH MY GOSH!! OH WOW!! Well! I have to admit, Victor, that I did think you'd make a pretty good woman, you have the build for it and - well. I'm not sure how to explain but - you've done it. Done even better than I'd have thought. And you even sound good too. OK So tell me, what do YOU think?"

I was glowing. With pride, with arrogant self-satisfied big-headed pride. Compliments always go down well with trannies, I knew that, but I was thrilled to hear those words in that situation. I breathed in again, gently this time so as not to swell too much in the breast department. I thought. Carefully. The results of the doctor's tests came into my mind, 51% woman was it? Well right then I felt 110% - all woman and more.

"It feels really rather good, Doctor." Understatement of the century! "But - well, a bit strange, Doctor Mills. Very strange. I mean, in one way I feel totally great, it's been my dream in some sort of way to really dress up all the way, to go for the totally feminine look, to really look like a woman. I mean, it's the same with nearly every transvestite isn't it? We all want to 'be' a woman in one way or another."

"But. There's something else isn't there?"

"Well yes. It really is so good of you to give me this opportunity. But I do wish Kathy was here, I wish she could see me properly dressed, maybe she would understand what all this is about."

"I see what you mean but I'm not so sure about that, Victor. It would need some work, maybe some sort of preparation for her. Let's not think about that one at the moment, shall we? Let's take the coffee outside, we can sit in the sunshine on the patio. Don't worry, it's totally private. I need to talk with - now then, is it - Victoria maybe?"

I realised. Up until that moment, until Dr. Mills had seen me fully dressed, we'd never discussed names. I just hadn't mentioned it. But she was right. I'd often thought of myself as 'Victoria' when I was dressed up.

"I think that's a very suitable name. Like the film - 'Victor Victoria' wasn't it, something like that. And - let's relax the ruling a little shall we? Here we are two girls having a coffee together. I think in this situation you should call me Melissa. OK? But surely Kathy has seen you dressed up before, I mean that's why this series of sessions started."

I realised I'd been listening and hadn't said much for a while. I sat with my coffee, sipping it slowly and - almost automatically, slid one leg over the other to reveal more thigh than I intended to. I looked up - Melissa had noticed but didn't say anything. But she did smile.

"Yes - er - Melissa. I used to dress up in some way sometime almost every week, usually weekends but sometimes midweek, but I never went really ALL the way. I used to wear a skirt and stockings, or sometimes wig and jewellery and a bit of makeup. But I've never had the chance to dress like this before."

"Well my dear, you really have done an excellent job. But I do remember you telling me you used to dress up in the car sometimes, go for a short walk maybe."

"Oh yes. But only at night, when there was nobody around. I mean, I've never been out at daylight of course."

"Of course? Why of course?"

"Well - it's obvious. I mean, not in public..."

"Victoria, believe me. There is no reason why you couldn't go out - to be a woman in public in almost every sense of the word. But enough of that for now, it's a little chilly isn't it. Let's go inside."

A few minutes later we were settled, not in Melissa's office but in her living room. We were ready to properly begin the 'session', I didn't really know what this week was going to be about. We chatted for about twenty minutes, with Melissa asking me how I was feeling, trying to probe a little.

Then the phone rang.

"Oh - hang on - er Victoria. That must be Clive. He's away at a dinner, lawyer stuff, he knows no to ring unless something important comes up. Be with you in a moment.

Melissa picked up the mobile from the small table by the fireplace and began to speak.

"Hello? ... oh hi darling .... No, it's OK, anything wrong? .... Oh no! ..."

She paused and listened for a minute maybe.

".... No Clive, I can sort it ... yes .... No problem, you go and work on your speech, ... OK honey, see you tomorrow. Bye."

She put the phone down. She waited a moment. She smiled at me. A knowing smile, but I wasn't at all sure what I was supposed to know.

"Victoria. I have a problem or rather Clive has. And I think you may be able to help. He's forgotten to buy a card for our nephew. It's Harry's birthday tomorrow. He's a 'Blues' fan. He wants me to get him a special card. Do you know what that means?"

"Sure. Birmingham City fan, they're the 'Blues'. He means one of the Supporter's club cards, I think. You can get them in post offices and newsagents and so on round here."

I was digging myself into a hole - but I didn't know it. Melissa stood up and smiled at me, even wider. "OK then Victoria - actually I think it should maybe be Vicki. Yes, that'll do fine. Vicki. Come on, let's go. "

"Go?"

I realised at that moment what I had just talked myself into. I was just going to start protesting, realising that in some way Melissa had decided that I - Victoria that is - was going out. Then the appreciation suddenly hit me, the full implication of what she meant. I couldn't speak. My mouth opened but nothing came out. Dumbfounded, that's the word. I stood stock still.

Melissa reached over and took my hand gently, leading me to the large sofa. I sat down. She looked me in the eyes.

"Look here, Victoria. You can do this. Help me too, and Clive, the silly man, he can't get that sort of special card in Edinburgh, that's where he is. Even if he gets something different it would never get here by tomorrow morning. You can do it, easily. Just come with me, in the car. We can go into the newsagents together, you help me choose the card. Then I can write it out there and then and post it on the way back. OK?"

I thought about it. I'd calmed down as she spoke. She was right. Just what the trannie ordered, a low-key outing, just a short walk. I may not even have to talk with anyone else or anything like that. Yes! I smiled.

"That's my girl! Come on."

So we did. We went out. Melissa drove of course, we went in her car and I was in heels anyway. Heels I was not really used to, not for driving anyway. Even getting into the car was an experience. I knew about the actual mechanism of course, I'd read about it in so many TV stories on Story-site and so on. Sit sideways, swing both legs in so the guys can't see your panties. Not that there were any men around of course at that time.

But - the seat belt. I'd worn one 'dressed' before of course, on my secret nocturnal outings. But never with properly fitted, and quite large, tits. Melissa giggled as I tried to fit it round my somewhat unaccustomed shape and probably made a right mess of it. Eventually she leaned over to help, showing me how to ease the tension and allow the strap to settle into place between my 'protuberances' and then let it go a bit tighter.

"Better get used to that, honey" she said, again with humour in her voice. Did that mean I would be doing this again? Maybe. It was only a short drive, maybe four or five minutes, Melissa pulled into a space just outside the newsagents in the small shopping arcade I remembered passing on the way to the doctor's house. Melissa switched off the ignition and turned to me, placing a hand gently on my stocking-ed knee. In other circumstances I might have been so thrilled but there and then I saw the action exactly as it was intended, as an act of consolation.

"OK. Now we go in. Look on it as a role-play, Vicki my dear. You're my girly-friend, helping me with the shopping. You won't have to talk, just smile and agree with me and so on. I want to see how you react, Vicki. This is not what I really had in mind today but I think we can get something positive out of it. Ready my dear?"

And so, before I had time to say anything, to try to argue my way out of this, to come up with any sort of reason why I shouldn't go ahead - Melissa opened her car door and got out. And I did the same. OK not in a bar with guys looking at me, imagining being with me or anything like that. But in my own small way a major step forward. Literally.

With those few steps towards the door of the newsagents I began a journey - into some sort of womanhood, some sort of feminine lifestyle. Just in a small way of course. I looked across at Melissa - and smiled.

"OK darling, let's go and get this card shall we?"

Darling! But Melissa looked at me and just grinned. She took my arm and we headed into the shop.

For a very first outing - it would have been an anticlimax, but not for me. I was loving every minute of it. As I started looking through the cards seeking the ideal one for a young 'Blues' fan Melissa held a rather different one up in front of me. The front showed a scantily-clad blonde - 'It's you Vicki, it's you!'

I laughed and opened the card to see the message. I showed it to Melissa - she blushed! Well, she had to, it was very risqué indeed and totally unsuitable for Harry.

"Got it!" I exclaimed a few moments later, I'd found the right section and a most suitable card for a young man into the wonders of Birmingham City Football Club. Melissa took it and rushed to pay for it, then borrowed a pen from the shop assistant, wrote a message and the address on the envelope and got it all ready.

"Right now Vicki. While we're here, one more thing. I think you should do this. See down the road, just outside 'Boots', there's a post-box. So go on girl, go and post it for me, enjoy the walk, I'll wait in the car."

Again small scale stuff compared with the sort of TV stories I had read about but I could see that Melissa was right, I really wanted to try this. So I walked down the road, bag over my shoulder, envelope in hand. I walked past people!

People. Other people that is. For some reason the small 'mall' had begun to fill up. Not crowded-full you understand but I passed maybe twenty or thirty people going about their ordinary business as I walked along the road. The sun had begun to peer out from behind the clouds a little and I was LOVING it! Even now I can still remember almost every detail of that stroll.

I almost ruined it from the word go, stumbling just a little as I stepped over the kerb from the road to the path, not realising to take enough care in my high heels. But from then on everything seemed to go so well. As I walked along I passed several people, men, women, a few children, one woman struggling with her shopping and two kids at the same time. I stopped for a moment to help her, the car door she had opened had swung shut as she tried to put her bags in. She smiled a 'thank you' and I walked on.

The two guys looking in the car showroom, as I passed them I couldn't help but notice, I could see their faces reflected in the shiny surface of the large door, both their heads swivelled - they were looking at my legs, wow! And the older guy who was putting his own letters in the post box when I got there, he turned towards me as I reached out with my own - and had a really good stare at my boobs, well, at my figure anyway. I shivered, not with cold but with excitement.

And then I turned to go back. But something else caught my eye. 'Boots'. Only a small branch but, heck, I had to take the chance, so I pushed on the heavy door and stepped in. Caution had given way to bravado, to some extent anyway. I was having so much FUN! One of the signs in the window was advertising make-up, special offers and so on. I browsed quietly over the shelves and then saw what I was looking for, mascara. I'd used Melissa's back at her house, not told her but among the tubes she had left out in case needed had been a brand of mascara I'd never used before. It had gone on so well I had resolved to buy some for myself and here it was. I took the tube across to the counter and paid, then decided I had done enough and walked back towards the car. I could see Melissa waiting, looking through the windscreen.

I passed the car showroom again, the two men were still looking. It is easy to say 'unconsciously' but that wouldn't be true, most definitely with conscious intent I tried to wiggle my bum as I walked away from them towards the car. And I got my reward. A quiet whistle, a most definite wolf-whistle, my very first obviously.

"Gee Vicki, you certainly made an impression there honey. We don't have to go, you know, we could .... I rather like the one in the blue shirt but you can have him if you like, I'll have the other. You game?"

I knew her well enough by then to know she was joking. As she drove us back to her house she was asking me how it all felt, what I'd done in the shop and so on.

"But - Melissa - if I'd said yes when you suggested something with those two guys would you have....?"

"Vicki you surprise me. I thought you said you weren't into men! I can see this report is going to need lots of rewriting."

"Report? Oh, I see, so how long before it's all finished, before the sessions end I mean?"

"Well dear, I'll know better after next week. How would Kathy react if I said I'd like to see 'Vicki' again next week? "

"She wouldn't like it, I don't think."

"Well maybe I'll give her a ring, we should be finished in a couple more sessions. Anyway I hope you've enjoyed today. A little different from what you expected maybe."

"Certainly was" I replied as we drove into Melissa's drive.

"OK Vicki, time to get you sorted, time to get 'Victor' back. Usual time next week if that is OK, no early appointment. If you're here by 5.30 we can start on getting you dressed. I've got a couple of ideas".

I looked across at her and was dismayed - was I really? - to see that glint again.

"Bring a range of stuff, Vicki. Like I said, I've got some ideas."

She left it at that. I changed somewhat sadly, I really had enjoyed that very first experience of 'being' a woman.

As I walked down the stairs in my shirt and trousers - looking oh-so-different from the 'woman' who had walked up them fifteen minutes earlier Melissa - or rather Dr. Mills - spoke to me once more.

"Victor. When we were chatting earlier you mentioned your LBD."

My 'little black dress'. Quite possibly the nicest femme thing I had, it had been quite expensive, well over £100. I hadn't admitted so much to Kathy when she'd seen it but it probably cost more than any of hers. A fact which really did make me feel guilty.

"Yes" was all I said.

"Well. Bring it next week will you? I'd like to see you in it. And all the accessories I think, let's see how we can really 'glam' you up shall we?"

"Er yes, OK. But I'm not sure I can get into it properly, it's a 10 though it's a slightly loose fit. I've only tried it on the once."

"Let me see to that will you. Bring it anyway Victor,?"

As I drove back home I tried to concentrate on what I had done, on how I'd felt, rather than worrying about the future. And - inevitably - Kathy was totally gob-smacked when I told her what we'd done.

"You did WHAT?"

I can hear her now, not surprisingly really, it had been something of an event. Not the sort of thing you usually get at the doctor's. She listened agog as I described the walk along the street, my mini-shopping experience and especially the guys looking in the shop, the wolf-whistlers.

"Wow, Victor, I wish I'd seen that. You really must have looked the business if Dr. Mills thought you could get away with it."

We chatted on and off about the whole experience all week. But I didn't tell her about the 'offer' Melissa had made to me in the car.

Yet again the next week dragged, no pun intended. I was looking forward so much to whatever Melissa had in mind. Though I do have to admit that, when she showed me what she wanted me to wear I began to have substantial doubts. As soon as I'd arrived she had urged me up to the 'dressing room' again and instructed me to start changing. So I was there, in panties and absolutely nothing else. Well, I was wearing nail varnish again on my toes but just a brief pair of black panties. Oh, and my breast-forms, my prize trannie possession, my big bouncy breast-forms, carefully stuck on this time and looking very realistic with their edges made-up to cover the joins.

"OK Victor, you really do need a bra right now. Those boobs look really great. Did I really say that?" joked Melissa, leaving me to get on with the job.

Within minutes I was standing resplendent in bra and panties, and for the first time I began to realise just what wearing a bra really meant. This one had to do its job, supporting and holding and - I hoped - showing off my assets. I was pleased with the result, the bra was in fact one I'd only bought a couple of days earlier to Kathy's dismay. Except that what disturbed Kathy was that I hadn't asked her to help me choose it. Well, I'd gone ahead on my own and bought from Marks, one of their top-of-the-range black under-wired balcony bras. Balcony? Heck, I had a shelf there, tits pushed up and together and - I thought - looking gorgeous.

I heard Melissa come back and turned. And lots of things happened. I nearly died, went to heaven there and then, it was such a shock to see her. And something untoward started happening down between my legs - obviously. She had said she was going to start getting ready for our outing herself though I still had no idea where we were going or what we might be doing. And she had started getting ready, I'd heard a shower running a few minutes earlier. But she hadn't finished getting ready. In fact she'd only just started. She was wearing, as I had been just a few moments earlier. Panties. Just panties. OK, and red nail varnish too but that was all. And while I was in some way excited by the sight of my own false tits I was totally and utterly thrilled by the sight of her real ones. She walked across the room and looked closely at me, at my boobs in particular.

"Gosh Vicki, you have done a really good job there. I can't see the join at all, those look sensational."

I just had to say something. "Melissa - er - yours look terrific too."

I hadn't done my make-up at that time. I must have blushed bright red. Must have. In real life ever since Kathy and I were married I don't think I'd ever seen another woman's naked breasts. Excited? Course I was.

"Excuse me" I muttered, still embarrassed and realising I was about to spoil the line of my panties, perhaps even so something else down there. I dashed towards the bathroom, closed the door and sat down to calm myself.

"Steady Vicki. Take it easy' I told myself. I sat and steadied my nerves for a minute, then ventured out. Melissa had at least by then put her bra on. Still very erotic, she was wearing gorgeous flame-red lingerie. But at least I had a chance of keeping myself 'under wraps'. I concentrated on the matter in hand.

"Now Vicki, how about this then?" Melissa held up a black p.v.c. waist-cincher. I knew about them. I'd seen them in the TV shop in Birmingham. I sat there watching in disbelief. It was made of boned satin with hooks at the front and rows of eyelets at the back for the laces. I protested that I already had quite a slim waist, but Melissa said it would give me more convincing curves, and I needed to wear it to get into the dress she'd chosen. I stepped into the cincher and pulled it up into place, then she told me to breathe in and began lacing me up extremely tightly at the back. Then Melissa pressed her knee into my back to give her more leverage for pulling the string taut. I groaned that it hurt, that I felt faint, but she said that it might be a bit uncomfortable to begin with but that I would get used to it.

Then, I unrolled my delicate, long, black silk stockings up my smooth legs, carefully fastening the cincher's garter straps to the stocking tops. I had difficulties again, not with my own extremely sexy clothing but with Melissa's. While I was trying to concentrate on putting my own stockings on she was sat just a couple of yards from me, stretching out her luscious-looking legs and donning a pair of sheer, red seamed stockings. We both stood up together to inspect the results.

Looking down, I couldn't believe it was really my own body I was seeing! I slipped on my shiny leather, four-inch stilettos - they really were a crowning touch to my extremely feminised legs. Melissa did too, her heels were every inch as high as mine and bright fire-engine red.

"OK what about this LBD then?" asked Melissa. I reached down and ever-so-carefully held it up.

"Wow! Victor, if we can get you into that you are going to look sensational. Come on, let me help. First though I think that cincher need to be just a little tighter"

Tighter??!! It had already taken my waistline down by several inches. By the time Melissa had pulled and heaved it was probably down by a foot. But I knew it would be worth it if I could indeed get that dress on properly. I stepped into it and slid it over my thighs, pushing my arms into the short sleeve holes while Melissa did a bit more tugging. I could probably have done it myself but my 'tits' kept getting in the way. And so did Melissa's which didn't help my composure one bit. Finally it was done, my boobs were just about tucked into it, well most of them. I looked in the mirror and gasped.

The dress had an extremely feminine cut, short-sleeves with an almost obscene ultra-plunging neckline, a very tight waist, and a tight arse. As she zipped me up at the back, I just couldn't believe the sensations I was feeling - it was electrifying!

When I came back down to earth however, I again began to worry about actually going through with Melissa's idea. I didn't know exactly what it was but I knew it involved going out - being seen - but where? And in that dress? For one thing, it was so short it only came down to about two or three inches below my crotch and was only just below my stocking tops. If I made the slightest bend or wrong movement, or just even walked too fast, my panties and suspenders would be exposed for everyone to see!

"I can't do this" I protested. "I can't have a bunch of guys checking me out dressed like this!" I almost cried.

I continued appealing that I couldn't go out in this outfit, but Melissa chided me saying, "OK honey - now you'll see what women really go through. Anyway - I think you might rather enjoy it!. Now Vicki, no more complaining. It's getting late and it's time to do your make-up."

I turned my attention was to the cosmetics on the dressing table in front of me. I stuck on - with a strong glue which Melissa had applied, not the simple stickers I had used before - a set of long red artificial fingernails to my hands, something that I hadn't tried on that scale and which looked quite striking.

She said that my eyebrows should perhaps be shaped just a little and then darkened in with eyebrow pencil. To my discomfort, she began plucking my eyebrows with tweezers while telling me to be still. I was wary of doing this at all but Melissa said that she would only thin then a little and that no-one would notice later.

While Melissa 'caught up' with me in doing her own make-up I applied a creamy foundation all over my face to even out my skin and give me a nice base. Next, I coloured my newly thinned, soft, curvy eyebrows with black eyebrow pencil. They really did look very 'womanly'. Then Melissa held the back of my neck with her hand and had me look up at her. She said I really had 'big, beautiful eyes', and that I should show them off. She picked up a black eyeliner pencil and began using it on the rims of my eyelids. My huge eyes were soon encircled in the sexy black liner. As I closed my eyes again she applied the shadow liberally to my lids and brow-bone using a sponge-tipped applicator. The shadow further complimented my dazzling eyes. She then brushed on some mascara - the lovely creamy type I'd bought for myself the previous week - to blend in and further thicken the lashes. Big, feathery, dark eyelashes resulted.

"Nearly done" said Melissa, turning to do her own face in almost as bold a fashion as she had done mine. She picked up a red lip pencil, held my chin with one hand, and with the other she carefully outlined my lips with the pencil to define and colour the borders. She took a tube of fire-engine red lipstick and generously filled in my outlined lips with the rich red creamy colour. And to even further accentuate my lips, she painted gloss over my lipstick using a lip brush, giving them a bright, rich, glossy shine. When she was finished, matching my huge, sexy eyes, I had the biggest, reddest, shiniest lips I had ever worn! I was amazed at my features.

I finished off by smoothing a little reddish blush over my cheekbones. The overall look was rather extravagant, I must admit I LOVED IT! I felt a shiver as Melissa clipped onto my ears first one, and then the other, of a pair of beautiful, long silver drop earrings I had brought with me. Two rings, three bracelets and one necklace followed. I sprayed 'Parfum' - I'd brought that with me - around my shoulders, neck and 'boobs'. Done! Melissa finished off her make-up and slid into her dress for the evening. Yet again - I gasped in amazement. .

I shook myself out of my reverie and stood mesmerized looking at her. If anything was going to put my dress to shame - this was it! Flame red. P.V.C. Tight, I mean TIGHT! It had a halter neck and an even more plunging neckline than mine!

"Melissa!" I could say no more.

"You like, Vicki? I'm sure 'Victor' would love this but he's not here is he? Do you think we'll attract some attention tonight? In case you hadn't realised it we're going out. On the town in a way, just to a couple of places I've picked out, got to show ourselves off to the male population of Birmingham, haven't we? I do like this dress you know, I got it last Friday at 'Transform', they're really not as expensive as I expected. The assistant was a bit surprised when I went in, I don't think they get many women shopping in there, not 'ggs' anyway, that's what we're called isn't it? OK darling, grab your bag, I just need to finish my own jewellery and then we're gonna hit the town."

I still couldn't believe my eyes! Melissa was a ten, a total ten-out-of-ten if not an eleven - she looked fucking gorgeous! And my hair, makeup, shapely stocking-clad legs, short, sexy tight outfit, etc. were all perfect! There I was. A babe!!! A nine maybe? Wow!

She drove. Of course she drove. Her car again and I could have had heel problems again. And problems with my composure, I still wasn't sure I was going to get through the evening without disgracing myself in some way. Getting found out maybe or - if Melissa revealed anything else to me - cumming in my knickers! She'd said we were going out 'on the town' - and she meant it. As she drove through the traffic on the outskirts of Brum I just looked out of the car, looking at all the other traffic and the people of the city going about their own business unaware that a 'cheat' was in their midst, a guy pretending to be a woman. What would they think if they knew - I hoped I wouldn't have to find out. As we passed the station Melissa turned sharp right, along a side street I'd never even noticed.

I had wondered where on earth she was going to park. Even on a Monday evening there were loads of cars around and all the places on the street seemed to be taken. But Melissa surprised me. Going along the street she suddenly and very expertly turned right and right again - I realised I had just lost my sense of where we were. She stopped - in a small courtyard in the middle of some very high buildings.

"OK girl, we're here"

"Here? Where's here?" I asked. I looked across towards a better lit part of the street and then realised. We were 'in' the legal quarter, the part of the city with lawyer's offices and solicitors and so on, I remembered coming here a couple of years ago when Kathy and I had been visiting a lawyer with her Aunt Mary, before she became really ill.

"It's a very convenient area to park, Vicki. A bit hidden away. Not a lot of people know it's here, look, how many cars can you see parked? Three? Four? And it's close to where we're going, remarkably close."

"Now Victor. Excuse me calling you that at the moment" said Melissa, reaching out an arm to make me pause before I stepped out into street. "Victor, this is an important moment. I wanted to bring you out to really put some meat onto my research. The tests a couple of weeks ago told me a lot, and our unexpected field trial last week added to that but there's one facet of your situation which still puzzles me. Tonight I need to investigate it - 'IRL' as you transvestites sometimes say. Are you up to this?"

"Up to what?" I asked, still not sure why we were there, specially dressed as we were.

"Victor" continued Dr. Mills, laying an extremely well-manicured hand on my nylonned thigh. "Remember when I did your sexuality profile? The X-test? I said then the results were a bit odd. Sure you came out as hetero-male very strongly, very strongly indeed in fact. That's obviously your Dominant Sexuality Mode. But your other three factors were unusually high as well. I need to test them in the field, that's why we're here. To see how you cope when put into situations which might encourage different sexuality modes."

I was distinctly unsure about all this and started to say something but Melissa interrupted.

"Sorry Vicki, perhaps I should have given you more warning but I was afraid you might cry off. Don't worry, I'll be with you every step of the way. Every step on your road of discovery that is, if I can put it in such a pretentious phrase."

"But what if I get caught. I could be in serious trouble, I mean, so could you, you have a reputation to ..."

"Vicki. No! Don't even think of it. I mean look at you, well you can't, can you. But you've seen what you look like. You are a beauty, Vicki and don't you forget it. Look - if you really want convincing...."

She took my arm and led me across the alley, almost into the light, to a position where I could look across the street.

"See those two guys over there. Waiting for their girlfriends I'd bet. I guarantee, if you stroll over there now - and tell them you'll suck both their cocks for £20 they'll jump at the chance. Want to try it?"

"NO!!"

"Why not, it would be easy money?"

"Well ... " I didn't know what to say. But I realised, Melissa would let me do it if I really wanted to. She was convinced I could pass as a woman even in such a situation.

And so was I! Suddenly confidence oozed through me. Sure I'd seen what I looked like. Big hair, big tits, short skirt, legs all the way up to .... Sure I could pass as a woman. I could BE a woman, certainly for the evening. I breathed in deeply, just glimpsing my boobs swelling in the light from the street lamps. "OK Melissa. You're on. So where are we going?"

"Oh, just to a club to start with" replied Melissa taking my arm and pulling me with her. "I think you'll like it, it's quite a varied place. There are some girls there like you, you know."

"Like me? You mean a club for transvestites? In Birmingham?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised!" chuckled Melissa as we out into the light. And I was there, standing in the full light surrounded by, if not hundreds at least tens of people. All of them - well, most, dressed up for a night out. I was suddenly glad it wasn't Friday or Saturday. It occurred to me that Kathy and I hadn't been into town mid-week for a long time, I remembered how hectic weekends were with all the night life, all the revellers. Yet here I was. A reveller. Or supposedly so.

Supposedly? Well, yes. I had good reason to revel. I looked across at Melissa and smiled, here I was doing what all trannies really want to do, 'being' a woman in public.

"Hello love, on your own tonight?"

I was a little taken aback at this, but Melissa came to my rescue leading me by the arm towards the front of 'Top Shop'.

"Told you Vicki, he was really taken in. Do you believe me now. You ARE a woman, a very attractive woman, tonight."

And at that, finally, I believed it. Looking back I could see the guy who'd tried to pick me up, and the boys we had seen across the street, and several other men - looking at us. OK I'm sure many of them were eyeing up Melissa but I was equally certain some were looking at me, In that dress I'm not surprised.

"You're right Melissa, I am. I remember something you said a couple of weeks back, about using what you have. A woman can have power - I can have power can't I. I mean, like you said with those two guys over there, if I wanted to - wow!"

"OK Vicki, you're right. But we're not going to do that right now, I've got a couple of things planned. Come on, this way."

I followed her a few yards along the street and then we turned into another alley, I was a bit nervous to start with because it wasn't all that well lit. But only a few yards down the alley she opened a door and light spilt out over the path.

"In here" said Melissa, moving to one side. I went in, she followed. I looked around, we were in a small entrance hall. Melissa reached past me towards another door and pressed a buzzer beside it. It opened immediately, we went in.

I had been a little worried but I was relieved when I saw where we were. The door had led into a larger entrance lobby where five or six people were milling round. A man in a dinner jacket approached us.

"Good evening ladies. Are you members here, may I ask?"

I looked at Melissa.

"No we're not I'm afraid. A friend of mine, Marie Griggs, she recommended this club to us. She suggested we could go in as her guests. Is that OK?"

"Mrs Griggs? Well, no problem, she is one of our regular clients."

"So what kind of club is it?" I asked almost innocently as we went through the door the guy had indicated.

Then I knew. The room wasn't exactly dark but it wasn't well lit either. I could see lots of shapes, lots of people in there sat at small tables. Having a few drinks, having fun. But they were all women. Every one. Except for the male bartender I could see across the room. And they were not all just sitting at the tables. I looked in amazement at the couple at the table nearest the door, just out of sight of anyone looking in from outside.

Two women, yes, that was obvious. Even though the one nearest was herself wearing a dinner suit, bow tie included, her bulging figure belied her vaguely masculine appearance. That and the fact that her partner, dressed somewhat more conventionally in a skirt and jacket, had her hand inside her 'male' partner's trousers. They were making out even in such a public place. OK in a private club, yes, but with people watching.

"Melissa, is this....?"

Stupid question really, obviously it was. A women's club, OK a lesbian club. Why the hell was I there?

"Yes it is, Vicki. Now keep it quiet but we could be in all sorts of trouble if you're caught out here. Not to mention the trouble my dear friend Marie would be in. Come on, time to really 'come out'. Mine's a vodka and lime, you get the drinks please, I'll find us a table."

Not a very memorable phrase. My very first words in public, woman to man.

"Vodka and lime please and a gin-and tonic."

I picked up the two drinks and carried them over to where Melissa had found us a table. I sat beside her and downed almost half of mine in one go. This was not quite what I was expecting. Neither was what happened next! Melissa took my left hand and placed it on her thigh! And then she leaned over and whispered sexily in my ear.

"Vicki, we have to fit in here. So slide your hand up inside my skirt a little. Go on, don't be shy, that's nothing compared to what some of the girls in here get up to under the tables."

I gulped - my hand had moved up almost of its own accord, the red-taloned fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they slid over Melissa's stocking tops and met bare thigh. She wasn't being idle either, her own left hand was gently sliding up and down the exposed reaches of my own nylon-clad thigh.

"Melissa, I didn't realise - I mean, in a place like this, I had always assumed, you and Clive, you know, I never knew you were interested in - well, ...."

I faded out, unable to express what I was really trying to say. I really wasn't in control, beginning to think things were getting out of hand when...

"Mel, my dear, hi there, so glad you could make it. And who is this gorgeous bit of cunt we have here?"

I jerked my hand back and turned round., almost knocking my drink over. I managed to recover and finished it off in one go. The sexual tension in there was incredible, as I looked at the woman who was approaching I couldn't help hearing a moan, a near orgasmic moan, from one of the tables near us but I couldn't see what was happening in the dim light.

"Marie, hi there. Yes, I told you we'd come and try the place out, You know this is not my scene, you've seen my X-profile haven't you? But, just once in a while...."

So this was Marie, the friend of Melissa who had acted as our 'hostess' in inviting us to the club. I smiled towards her pleasantly.

"And who do we have here Melissa? She is so sweet, what's your name my darling?"

"I'm Vicki"

"Vicki? Well Vicki, Melissa said it was your first visit to a club like this, tell me, what do you think? Any of the girls here take your fancy? Or are you and Melissa an item?"

"Oh no, Marie, I'm just here to show Vicki the ropes. Anyway I need another drink, how about you girls, shall I get them in?"

Melissa got up and ambled over towards the bar. And Marie sat herself down, right next to me. And stared down my cleavage!

"I don't know what Melissa has told you about this little club. Or indeed about me, but it must be obvious that I'm very much into women...."

"Oh Melissa's not said very much at all, this really is so new to me."

So new in absolutely every sense of the word. I'd 'been a woman' for about two hours and here I was being a lesbian.

"Well Vicki, if you and she are not an item, I do have to admit I find you rather attractive, if you want an older hand to show you what we're all about, I'd be so willing to help. I mean you do fit in with my own predilections, I mean I LOVE girly girls with big tits, they really do turn me on. Yours look so good and that dress does do your breasts justice, I love girls who are not afraid to show off what they have got."

With which, to my total amazement, Marie leaned over and began to nuzzle my neck with her lips, for almost the first time, I was amazed I'd controlled myself for so long, I began to feel my cock starting to react. It was still trapped but it was growing, slowly but surely. This was liable to spoil everything!

I calmed down. It was difficult. 'Think of something, Vicki' I said to myself. I was calling myself Vicki! 'Think of something totally non-sex-related. Get your mind off it.'

So I thought of - a tin of tomato soup. I've no idea where that image came from but I thought it would suffice. Until Marie raised her head and looked me in the eyes, her hand moving from my waist to cup my right breast in her hand while she moved in closer to me. M lips just touched hers....

"Oh Vicki, there you are!

Melissa had come back, she sat down to join us, almost as if she hadn't realised what was happening with me and Marie. And it was Marie who spoke first, she looked disappointed.

"Cripes Mel, that wasn't fair, I was just getting turned on by your girlfriend here, I'm on heat now. You shouldn't have..."

"Marie, I know exactly what you were doing honey, and that's why I thought I had better interrupt. Vicki is a new girl in town and she's not ready for you yet, you know that. I think we'd better go now, Vicki. Anyway Marie, Olga's just arrived."

"Olga? Has she? Why didn't you say so? Now she is my type of woman."

I watched Marie get up and go, she didn't even kiss my cheek which is what I had been expecting, I did rather want to smell her gorgeous fragrance close up again but she was gone. Mel and I watched as she greeted a tall blonde woman, almost a model she was so slender, I saw Marie's hand slide round her waist as they greeted each other warmly. Then Melissa led me by the hand, me still trembling a little at the thought of Marie's advances, back out into the lobby, we sat together in the comfy chairs there.

"Don't worry, darling" she said. "Nothing will happen here, we are quite safe. Not that we're not safe anywhere in the club. Everyone respects everyone else's privacy here, and nobody would make advances out here anyway. It's just not done."

So we sat there, just for a few minutes, while Melissa took a small notebook out from her clutch bag and asked me what I had felt about the experience.

"Well I had no idea that was what you had in mind, Melissa, honestly. I was a little taken aback, specially when Marie started feeling me up, I was so surprised."

"Do you fancy her?"

"Heck, anyone would, she's an attractive woman."

"But in what way. Look, given the choice would you like to tongue her cunt or ram your cock up it? Honestly, which?"

And she didn't even blush!

"I - I - " I was flustered. Both at the thought of being able to do either, and at the forward approach Melissa was taking. I thought, briefly.

"I'd like to see her - in a dress like yours, maybe, dressed up for the night...."

"Go on Victoria"

".... And I'd like to go out to dinner with her maybe, show off our legs together, really short skirts and so on. Does that make me a lesbian? How can it?"

"In a way, yes Vicki. But we've not finished yes, come on, I need another drink. Let's go in the other bar."

"The other bar?"

"Yes. If you thought this place was a revelation, you wait and see. Come on, this way."

  

  

  

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