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New Girl in Town

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New Girl in TownNew Girl in TownMargo sat next to me in the coffee shop late that Saturday afternoon.His real name was Mark, but he was one of the loveliest Drag Queens inNew York City. I had been dressing secretly at home in my mother’s and sister’s clothes for just over three years, but at 18 years old, I hadnever been in public as a woman. Margo lived now as a female, and couldpass anywhere. I complimented “her” on it, and “she” said, “You coulddo just as well, you know.” I was flattered, but not as sure as shewas. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you!” We went to her apartment. Wehad been occasional lovers, so I had been there before, but this visitwould be different.As soon as we were inside, Margo ordered me to strip completely, andshe put my male clothing neatly away. She looked me over carefully,then stripped off all her own clothing, and led me into the bathroom.In a moment we were in the shower soaping each other down. I loved thesoftness of Margo’s skin, and the feel of her hands on mine. The sightand feel of her little penis, for Margo had only four inches even whenshe was hard, was also somehow erotic, and I was getting visiblyaroused!We were rinsing off when she said. “Stand there, and don’t move!” Shestepped out of the tub, and returned instantly bearing a razor andshaving cream. In seconds the lower half of my body was swathed inshaving cream, and Margo was shaving my legs. She also trimmed my pubichair to a little, feminine, V-shaped thatch.With all the gentle caressing and stroking that was going on, my cockwas now rock hard! Margo looked up at me from her kneeling position,and smiled at me. Then I felt her lips close around my cock, and agentle back and forth motion of her head begin. I leaned back againstthe tile wall, and soon was gushing my load of cum down her throat.Margo swallowed every drop. She was an expert cocksucker!”The transformation is about to begin!” announced Margo as we steppedfrom the tub. As soon as we had dried ourselves, she produced a bottleof cologne and some matching perfumed talc, and applied them liberallyto both of us. The sent was exotic, and I began to feel very femininein the way that I had always wanted to feel. We entered the bedroom,and Margo reached into a drawer. She took out a matching bra,garterbelt, and panties set for me. They were white lace with daintypink bows. “Virgins always wear white,” she said. She also had asimilar set in aqua for herself.We dressed together, and she showed me how to put the panties on overthe garter-belt so that they could be removed, and still leave thestockings on. Margo also taught me how to tuck my penis back between mylegs into my crotch, so that no telltale bulges would show even ifsomeone were to see me in just my panties.Last to go on was my bra. It was padded, and I had sort of smallishmale breasts, but we tucked a couple of old stockings into each cup tofill it out a little better. I wanted bigger breasts, but Margo wouldnot allow it. “All the new girls think that they need big tits!” sheadmonished. “A ‘real girl’ is not that big! If you want to looknatural, do it subtly. Don’t make yourself look like a clown!” She was,of course, correct. I followed her advice, and I am a better woman forit. To complete the effect, Margo gave me a light-brown wig that nearlymatched my own hair, and fussed it into place on my head.I was not prepared for what I saw when I looked in the full-lengthmirror. There staring back at me was the girl I had always known I was!I shuddered, and Margo lightly touched my arm. “See, Bobbi,” she halfwhispered to me. “I knew you could do it! That is the real you!” Shekissed me gently on the cheek. I had to agree with her. That was indeedthe real me. It was also the first time anyone had called me “Bobbi.” Ihave kept the name ever since.Margo’s transformation of me was good, but it was far from finished. Istood there in just bra, panties, garter-belt, sheer stockings, and wigadmiring myself in her full-length mirror. I liked what I saw verymuch, but I also wanted more! Margo was quick to oblige. She handed mea white lace full-slip with little pink bows at the straps and at thehem that just matched the other things I was wearing. Then she led meto the make-up table, and we sat down on the bench.Margo picked the shades, and applied the make-up. Soon my nails were apink to match the bows on the lingerie, and she was working thefoundation over my face. “You have a tiny problem that most ‘realgirls’ don’t have,” she said. “You have to go a little heavier on thefoundation to cover that little beard of yours.” The face powder,blush, and eye shadow were next, followed by the mascara, and finallypink lipstick to match my nails. “Put these in your purse,” Margo saidhanding me the lipstick, powder, and eye make-up she had used on me.”You’ll need them for touch-up’s later.” She did her own make-up thenusing blue shades on her eyes to set off the aqua lingerie she wore. Iwatched in fascination as I waited for my nails to finish drying.With the make-up applied, Margo went back to her closet. She soonproduced a pink leather purse, and pink pumps with four inch heels, andhanded them to me. I slipped the shoes on, and she said. “Put yourmake-up in the purse, and then your wallet and cigarettes from yourpants. You’ll need them when we go out.” I swallowed hard, and began toshake! I had not expected that all of this would go beyond Margo’sapartment! I had been in Drag at home in my mother’s and sister’sclothes in PRIVATE before, but Margo had been the only person to haveseen me as a woman up to today, and she had only been privileged tothat during the last hour! I was scared!! What if somebody saw that Iwas really male? What would or COULD happen?Margo saw my fear, and smiled gently at me. “Relax, Bobbi,” she said.”We girls are only going for a little walk, so you can see what being awoman feels like outside. You look lovely! You will be fine. Nothingbad will happen.” I thought for a moment. I did want to do it. I wasjust scared of the unknown. I glanced at the clock. It was almost9:00PM, and it was dark out. Nobody would be able to see me very well,and I would be with Margo who lived as a woman. We would just look liketwo more women walking in New York City’s theater district and TimesSquare. I told myself it would be all right, but I was still frightenedand excited over going out in Drag.From the closet, Margo brought forth a white cocktail dress. It wasknee length with three quarter sleeves, and the white satin under-dresswas covered in white lace. I slipped it over my head while she put on ablue-green jersey sheath that made her look positively slinky. Margodid up the zipper at the back of my dress, sprayed me with perfume, andannounced. “There! Now you are the sort of girl that men’s dreams aremade of! Take a look!” I stepped up to the full-length mirror again. Igasped at what I saw!! There in the mirror looking back at me was oneof the most beautiful women I had ever seen! She looked like somethingout of a movie! It took me more than a moment to get used to the factthat she was ME!! I almost cried for joy!!Margo reached into her jewelry box, and gave me a pink cameo locket ona thin gold chain along with three gold rings one of which one had apink stone in a marquise setting. I put these on, and she gave me apair of gold earrings with pink baubles that hung down, and matched thecameo around my neck. A white lace shawl completed the outfit, and wewere ready to leave for our walk. Margo opened the door of theapartment, we stepped out into the hall, and rode the elevator down. Iwas out in Drag for the first time!On the street, the Manhattan traffic was noisy as ever, and somehowthat was very comforting to me. I was terrified, and I needed somethingto remind me that this was really happening. As we walked I noticedthat all eyes seemed to be on me! Had they found me out? I asked Margowhat was going on, and she responded. “Don’t worry! All men, whetherthey know it or not, look at all women all of the time. It is justbiological. You are a pretty girl, so all the women will look too, andcompare you with what they think they look like. All those looks are acompliment! Just relax, and enjoy it!” It took a while yet after shesaid that to me, but after we had been out for half and hour I wasstarting to calm down.Margo stopped in front of a bar called “The Gilded G****”. I knew theplace. It was the only real transvestite bar in New York City. “Let’shave a cocktail!” she announced, and maneuvered me to the door. Ihesitated. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to do this! A walk on the streetwas one thing, but talking to people up close in a bar was quiteanother! “Stop worrying!” admonished Margo. “All the girls here areguys. Why not go in?” She was right. That bar was probably even saferthan the street. Why not indeed? Margo opened the door, and we went in.The scene inside was familiar. I had not been inside “The Gilded G****”too often, but I knew it well enough. There were two bars. One near thefront door where Edie, who looked more like a Beauty Queen than a DragQueen, was barmaid, and a bar at the back where Emma held court. Emmawas a biological woman of some forty years who looked and acted likethe puppet “Madam” from the comedy act of “Whalen and Madam.” Indeed,Whalen had been a regular at another Gay Bar where Emma had onceworked, and had based the character of his puppet on her! It was tothis rear bar that Margo led me.All eyes seemed to be on me as I walked through the room. I hadsometimes sat at one of those tables myself, and looked over the”girls” as they walked by. Now it was my turn to be ogled by the men! Iwas the “New Girl In Town” for the guys to lust over! I could FEEL alltheir eyes on me, and it felt GOOD!! I could feel my penis stiffen downbetween my legs even though it was tucked back into my crotch! I feltlike the woman that I wanted to be at last! I was a sex object, and Iliked it!!Margo and I sat at the bar, and ordered a drink. I was introduced toEmma, and received the first in a long string of compliments that I wasto receive that night. I was starting to get used to being a girl. Justthen a guy sat down on the stool next to me. Our eyes met, and I couldsee that he liked what he saw. “Hello,” he said. “You’re new here?” Ireplied that I was. He smiled, and asked if I would like to dance. Ihesitated for a moment, but an elbow in my ribs from Margo helped memake up my mind! We got up to go to the dance floor, and he asked myname. “Bobbi,” I replied.”Bobbi, eh?” he said. “It suits you. A pretty name for a beautifulgirl! My name is Peter.” He was the first person to call me beautiful.On the dance floor, Peter slipped his arms around me. The D.J. wasplaying a slow number, and Peter held me very close as we glided acrossthe floor. It felt good to be in his arms, in a man’s arms! It was notthe first time that a man had held me. It was not the first time that Ihad danced with another man. Somehow, however, this was different.There was something about the way that he held me while we danced.Maybe it was the way that he looked at me. Maybe it was the way thathis hand on my back moved slowly and gently trying to get just theslightest touch of the more intimate parts of my body. I only knew thatit felt very good, and I did not want it to stop!I pressed closer to him, and felt his hard cock pressing against mythigh. My insides began to tingle! Not only had I become the woman thatI knew I was that night, but I could bring a man to erection as thatwoman!The music stopped, and Peter kissed me gently on the cheek. I wassurprised, but I did not pull away. His lips moved to mine, and wekissed for a moment. Then he said. “I hate to say this for both of us,but I have to leave now. Here is my business card. Will you call methis week? I would like to have dinner with you.” I promised that Iwould, and he kissed me again. This time our lips parted, and we kissedfor a very long time. I promised again that I would call him, and hedeparted.I walked back to the bar. I was feeling a little depressed that Peterhad to leave, but I thought about the next time I would see him, and mypenis tingled! That would be quite a date!Margo was still at the bar, but she was not alone. She was talking tothe man sitting next to her. He was tall, and not really good lookingalthough pleasant enough. She was sitting very close to him, and shepointed me out to him as I approached. As I sat on the other stool nextto her he whispered something to her, and nodded. “Bobby, this isFrank,” Margo said. I shook hands with him in greeting, and Margo askedme to accompany her to the “Ladies Room.” It was the beginning ofanother adventure in this eventful night!Margo and I entered the “Ladies Room.” It was the first time that I hadever been in one. It was different from the “Men’s Rooms” that I hadbeen in. There were no urinals, and one wall had a long mirror on itwith a wide shelf. A number of other Drag Queens were at the mirroradjusting their make-up. “Take care of your needs, and meet me at themirror,” Margo ordered. I did so, taking the time to adjust the tuck ofmy penis back into my crotch between my legs. Margo was waiting at themirror when I got there.We took a moment to fix our make-up, and then Margo spoke. “What do youthink of Frank?” she said. I told her that he seemed nice enough notreally knowing what she was driving at. Then she got very serious.”Frank is a sort of friend of mine,” she said. “We see each other everycouple of weeks. He’s ‘straight’, but he likes something different fromhis tacky wife sometimes. Tonight he wants to party with two ‘girls’,and he likes you. He’s very generous, so there’s fifty dollars in itfor you. What do you think?”This was not what I had expected tonight! I knew that Margo turnedtricks for cash, but I had not considered doing it myself before. Theidea of being a prostitute was exciting to me though, and after amoment of thought I said, “All right! I’ll do it! What do we do now?”Margo smiled. “Just follow my lead, and be friendly,” she said, and ledthe way back to the bar.We sat for a few minutes at the bar with Frank while he and Margospoke, and then we all rose to leave. On the street, Margo and I eachtook one of Frank’s arms, and we walked to her apartment. In theelevator, Frank took the liberty of feeling my ass. I only smiled atthe intimate touch. He would get quite a bit more than a quick feelbefore that night was over!Margo fumbled in her purse for keys while we stood at the door to herapartment. Frank lost no time in getting his money’s worth of me! Heroughly pulled me to him, and kissed me probing the inside of my mouthwith his darting tongue. His arms were around me, and while his leftarm pinned me to him like a vice, I felt his right hand resume itsexplorations of my bottom. With great care and skill he managed to hikemy skirt high enough to slip that right hand of his under the hem, andgain free access to the naked flesh of the back of my left thigh abovemy stocking top. He also treated his hand to still another roam acrossmy tush, now with only my filmy white panties separating that hand frommy soft, warm flesh, and probed a finger or two up under the elastic ofthe leg hole for an added thrill. All the while his kissing had notmissed a beat!”Hey! Break it up, you two!!” Margo’s voice snapped us back to reality.She was standing inside the apartment door, and beckoning us to comein. “You may find each other irresistible, but I do have neighbors, andbesides I feel left out!” she complained to Frank and I as we enteredthe apartment. I murmured a quiet apology, but Frank said nothing. Hisresponse was to grab Margo in his arms, and give her the same treatmenthe had given me a couple of minutes earlier. She writhed gently againsthim like the practiced temptress she was, and I noticed her handlightly stroking his cock through his trousers. The seemed suddenlyoblivious to the fact that I was in the room. I closed and locked theapartment door, and sat demurely on the sofa like a good girl to waitfor them.”Well, at least we know we all like each other!” was Margo’s commentwhen they joined me a couple of minutes later. Frank plopped down onthe couch next to me, and Margo continued. “I told you that you wouldlike Bobbi, Frank. I am rarely wrong about such things. This should bea fun evening!” She paused for a moment, and then said, “Frank? Can weget the, Uh… ‘financial arrangements’ out of the way first?” Franksighed, and produced his wallet. He took out some bills, and passedthem to Margo. She counted out fifty dollars for each of us, and handedme my share saying, “Put this in your purse, Bobbi.” I did, and thenjoined Margo who was standing before Frank. “Well,” she said. “Now wecan have some fun!”Frank sat on the sofa, and watched the events of the next few minutesunfold before him. Margo stood behind me, and unzipped my dress. Istepped out of it in a very ladylike way, and she tossed it over achair leaving me with just my slip to cover the rest of my lingerie.Then she turned her back, and I removed her dress in the same way. Wefaced each other, and kissed a long, probing kiss while we both slidthe straps of each other’s slips off our shoulders, and let then fallin delicate heaps about our ankles.We stepped out of the piles of silk, and stood before Frank in justbra, panties, garter-belt, stockings, and shoes. I all in white lacewith dainty pink bows, and Margo in aqua silk with dark blue bows. Hiseyes lit up like searchlights! If he had liked what he saw of us in thebar, he was now positively bursting with excitement over the visionthat he beheld! The bulge in his trousers was begging to be set free ofits confinement, and I was getting curious of what it looked like.Margo nudged me toward the couch, and Frank took my arm to gently tugme into sitting on his lap. Margo disappeared into the bedroom.I could feel the hardness of Frank’s cock pressing into my soft behindas I sat on his lap. I wondered if he knew just how deeply into my assI wished it was REALLY pressing at that moment! My own penis, in itstuck back in my crotch between my legs, was now quite stiff too. Icould feel a longing behind it deep inside of me. As if the ghost ofthe vagina that should have been there was yearning to feel the lengthof this man’s cock plunging in and out of it! I was more than arousedby all had happened, all that was happening, and all that was GOING TOhappen it me that night! I let all control of myself go, and jumpedheadlong into the spirit of the evening!!Frank was kissing me again, probing all the while at the inside of mymouth with that delicious tongue of his. This time, however, his handshad free access to roam unchecked over all of me, and roam they did! He may not have been a great lover, but dressed as I was, the sexual andsensual excitement that I was feeling was all but overpowering. Isquirmed playfully on his lap, and felt his now granite hard cockdigging even more urgently into the soft flesh of my bottom.I was doing what I had always wanted to do! I was sexually arousing aman as a woman! I had become what I had always wanted to be! I was awoman in every way that it was possible for me to be a woman at thatmoment! I was living the most incredible night of my entire life! Iwanted to savor every instant of it!!Margo appeared at the bedroom door, and called out to us. “I’ve turneddown the bed, and I’m getting lonely in here! Would you two care tojoin me in the boudoir?” Neither Frank nor I needed any encouragementto get us to head for “…the boudoir.” If the poking and prodding thatmy little tushy was getting by his cock every time I moved in his lapwas any indication, he needed a small trip to “…the boudoir,” or hewas going to make a large mess in his trousers, and probably stainMargo’s sofa in the process! It was also obvious that getting me intobed was the primary thought in his mind at that moment, and I echoed itin my own mind as well. I wanted him to get me into bed too!!Frank’s right hand never left some part of my body as we walked to thebed. At the doorway his left hand picked up Margo, and was giving herthe same treatment. “Stand still!” Margo ordered him as we approachedthe bed. “You are a little overdressed for the occasion, but we’ll soonfix that!” I unbuttoned Frank’s shirt, and Margo un-buckled his belt. Ipulled the shirt off to reveal his massive, hairy chest. Frank mightnot have had a very handsome face, but his body was hard, tanned, andmuscular! I treated myself to a taste of his tiny male nipples as theshirt fell away, and felt him stiffen and gasp with excitement. Ilooked down, and saw that Margo had disposed of his trousers and shoes,and was gently nibbling at his muscular thighs while I was flicking athis nipples with my tongue. Frank was immersed in sexual passion, butwe were having as much fun as he!Then Margo kneeled in front of him, slipped her fingers into thewaistband of his briefs, and pulled them to his ankles. A huge cockjumped forth, and slapped against her cheek! It was fully seven incheslong, and two inches thick! A deep tangle of coarse black hairsurrounded the base from which it rose to end in a knob that looked asbig as a Ping-pong ball! A heavy sack with large balls hung below, andMargo immediately began to taste those balls making Frank give out alow moan. I gasped, and stared at the huge cock that only minutes agohad been prodding my ass through Frank’s trousers. More than ever now,I wanted it in me!!Margo stood up from kneeling, and surveyed Frank’s naked body. From thelook in her eyes, I could tell that she liked what she saw. Looking athim, my own penis throbbed and twitched although it was still confinedby my panties, and tucked back between my legs into my crotch. I wassure that Margo’s penis was doing the same things, and I also longed totouch it along with Frank’s out of curiosity. “I said you would likethis, Bobbi,” Margo whispered in my ear as Frank lay down on the bed.Frank lay on his back with his hard cock jutting straight up whileMargo and I kneeled on either side of him. His arms pulled us towardhim, and he kissed us each in turn. We then began trickling kisses andtongue play down each side of his neck, and across his body. We eachstopped at the small nipples of his firm pectorals to suck and nibblegently. Frank moaned quietly at the attention the sensitive parts ofhis body were getting. His hands were roaming all over us. He evenmanaged to slip a finger of his left hand under the elastic legband ofmy panties to just caress the head of my penis for a moment. Ishuddered with ecstasy! I did like what was happening just as Margosaid I would!Margo and I moved further down Frank’s body nearing the goal of ourquest. We reached his cock at exactly the same moment, and startedkissing either side of it starting at the base, and working up. At thetip, our lips finally met, and we kissed each other with the head ofFrank’s circumcised cock pressed tightly between us. Frank let out anaudible groan of pleasure as our mouths parted, and we flicked at theglans with our tongues. He liked what was happening too!I licked my way back to the base of Frank’s cock while Margo continuedteasing its head with the tip of her tongue. I found my way to hisballs, and licked at them hungrily. They were warm and hairy, and theytasted just the way a man’s balls should taste to his woman. I feltthat I could have nuzzled them for hours. I nibbled at the sack, takingthe loose flesh into my mouth, and gently rolling it against the backof my lower teeth with my tongue as I sucked on it. I took one of theballs completely into my mouth, and slid my tongue around and around itto Frank’s obvious delight.Margo descended to the base of Frank’s cock, and I moved up to the tip.I took the large head between my lips, and knew instantly that he wasclose to orgasm. I ran my tongue around the tip of his cock the way Ihad just been doing with his balls, and I could taste the littletrickle of pre-cum that seeped from the slit. I worked his cock in andout of my mouth slowly at first, but gaining speed faster and faster asI worked! I increased the pressure with my lips bringing him evercloser to climax!Frank’s cock then all but literally exploded in my mouth! His firststream of semen shot all the way to the back of my throat, and splashedagainst my tonsils before spilling down deep inside of me! He continuedto pump his cum into my mouth until I thought it would overflow! I heldit all in, and lolled it on my tongue tasting the delicious saltinessof it before greedily swallowing it all to keep for my very own!I lay back on the bed along Frank’s left side after he had finishedcumming in my mouth, and Margo lay along his right. He had his armsaround us. We all played with each other while we waited for his ballsto recharge with semen. The night was far from over!Frank did not take long to rest. His hands were roaming all over Margoand I as he lay there, and I was more than aroused already from allthat had gone before. My penis, although still safely tucked away in mypanties, was throbbing with excitement! I had my own load of semenstraining for release, and I was sure that Margo was in the samecondition! I wrapped my left hand around Frank’s cock. It wasstiffening again, and I could hardly wait! Biologically Margo and Imight be male, but in Drag at that moment, I was his woman, and Iwanted him inside of me!!I continued playing with Frank’s cock as it grew to full hardness whileMargo sucked gently on his right nipple. His left hand suddenly slippedinto my crotch, and fingered my penis through the thin film of nylonthat was my tiny white panties. I shivered with the ecstasy andanticipation of what was about to happen! I turned my head to face him,and out lips met. His tongue pressed its way back into my mouth. Ittasted sweet. I teased it with my own tongue, and he responded byrolling to face me, and enfolding me in his arms.We kissed long and passionately with him fondling my penis through mypanties, and I stroking his naked cock all the while. Margo was allover both of us. Caressing my behind, fingering his ass, touching mybreasts, kissing his strong back, and doing all she could to raise ouralready torrid level of excitement. My mind was racing wildly! I couldthink of nothing else but having Frank fuck me in every possible way!I did not have long to wait! Frank suddenly kneeled up on the bed, andslid me onto my back before him. His hands went to the elastic of mypanties, gripped them with his fingers, and stripped them from myquivering body!! He took hold of my calves to spread my legs, so thathe could kneel between them. As my legs parted, my penis popped free ofits tuck in my crotch, and stood straight up begging for furtherrelease!I stared along my body at Frank’s cock hovering over my tummy with itshead scant inches from the head of my own penis. He was naked, and Inow wore only bra, garter-belt, and stockings. I glanced at my penis,and thought of how grotesque it looked. It should not be there! In itsplace I should have the vagina of the woman I really was! More thanever now, I wanted to be that woman for him, and for myself!!Margo lost no time in preparing the stage for the next act of our play.She slipped a pillow under my hips to raise my ass so that it would beeasier for Frank to enter me, and spread some K-Y Jelly over the headof his cock. It was not a moment too soon! Frank moved forward, andpositioned his cock at my waiting asshole. I gasped deeply when itshead popped past my sphincter! I moaned as he thrust the seven inchesof its shaft up inside of me! He waited only for a moment while Icaught my breath, and began a slow, rhythmic, in and out motion,fucking me to further heights of passion! My mind reeled with it all!At last I was being laid like a lady! I did not want it to stop!!Soon I felt something else warm at my asshole. At first I had no ideaof what it could be! Then I realized that it was Margo! She was downbetween our legs licking my ass, and Frank’s cock and balls as hefucked me! The feeling was incredible! I was being fucked and eaten atthe same time!Frank’s cock soon started to grow warm and twitch inside of me, and Iknew that he was close to cumming. My penis too was responding to beingrubbed between our bellies as he pumped me. Suddenly Frank thrust hiscock’s full length into me! I felt it spasm, and then a warmth grewdeep within my bowels! He was cumming as hard and hot as he had done inmy mouth, and I eagerly received his full load of semen! I hadfulfilled the woman in me! My man had fucked me, and I enjoyed everysecond of his cumming!!Frank’s cock slipped from my ass as he fell back exhausted on the bednext to me. I felt a wetness on my tummy as he moved away. I lookeddown to see my penis shrinking after its final release. I too has cumfrom the touching of our bodies together! I slid the pillow frombeneath me, and lay quietly next to him.I had sampled all that I had ever wanted from the female side of mysexuality that night. I knew that it would happen again, but I wantedto savor this first time. I had lost my virginity as a woman, but therewas still one more thing to come tonight!Margo appeared at the bedside with two washcloths. She gently cleanedoff the remains of our passion as Frank and I lay together. Soon Frankwas able to stand, and reluctantly he got dressed. I could see that hedid not want to leave, but he had gotten all that he had paid for, andhe had to go home. I too did not really want to see him go.I stood, and tucked my penis back up into my crotch between my legswhile his back was turned. I glanced at myself in the full-lengthmirror. Standing there in my bra, garter-belt, and stockings, thethatch of hair at my crotch even looked like a woman’s pussy! This iswhat I had wanted to be, and that night I had made it!I kissed Frank one more time in good-by. He smiled, and said, “You’requite a woman, you know!” Something tingled deep inside of me. I couldhave been paid no higher compliment at that moment. A ladylike tear ofjoy welled up in my eyes. I knew now what I was, and what I had to be.There was still a long road ahead, but I had taken the first step. Iwatched in silence as Margo escorted him to the door, and let him out.”Bobbi,” Margo said as she returned to the bedroom. “Please stay overtonight. It’s really too late for you to go home anyway.” She did notwait for me to answer, but reached into a drawer, and produced a lacyyellow nightie for me. I slipped out of my bra, garter-belt, andstockings, and put it on. When I looked up, she too was wearing ashort, pale-blue nightie.We lay down on the bed together, but as she relaxed her own small penispopped free of her crotch, and jutted rigidly out from her body. I thenrealized that while Frank and I had both cum twice in the course of theevening, Margo had not had any release! “Just lay back, Margo,” Iwhispered softly to her. “It’s your turn now.”I kneeled over her, and took her penis into my mouth. Margo moanedprettily as I worked on her. This was not an act of hot passion as hadgone before. There was about it all the gentleness of two women makinglove, and that was at it should be, for that was what was happening!I sucked Margo’s penis, and stroked her balls for only a few minuteswhen I felt her cum gently in my mouth. The taste was not as rough andsalty as Frank’s semen, but sweet as I knew it would be. She pulled meto her, and we kissed sharing her cum in both of our mouths. As thekiss broke we swallowed the semen together. It was the most gentlelovemaking I have ever experienced.I pulled the covers over us. We kissed again, and then drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. We had shared an incredible experience thatnight, and would share many more in the future!EPILOG:I did not go home that night, nor for many nights after that. I movedin the very next day to live with her. We lived together as two womenfor a couple of years after that. We had many other experiences withmen both together and individually since then, but none have eversurpassed that of my first night in Drag!Sub-title: Babydoll Grows UpThe first week of sharing Margo’s apartment with her was all I hadhoped it would be. We had been lovers before, and would make love toeach other many times again, but we did not live together as lovers.The apartment had a second bedroom which Margo had been using to storeodds and ends. We cleaned that out to become my bedroom. We both sharedMargo’s bed for the first few days, but by Thursday night my somehowappropriately queen-sized bed arrived, and we each had our own room.We came to an agreement right away on the, for lack of a better phrase,”sexual arrangements” for our place. On average, men tend to have theircasual affairs outside of their living space while women tend to bringtheir sex home with them. If we held to that statistic, we would eachneed a place to be bedded by our lovers. We decided that whatever wedid in the privacy of our own rooms with whomever we chose to do it,was our own business. The living room would be for mutual use forentertaining with our clothes on unless we were both entertaining thesame lover, or the other one had previously announced her intentions ofbeing out all night. The kitchen was our place, and off-limits tolovers. These arrangements worked well, and we held to them all thewhile we lived together.The only problem I had was the need to keep my male job, so that Icould pay my half of the rent. How I loathed getting up each morning,and putting on that stifling male clothing, and heavy shoes to trudgeto work. The job was not difficult. I was the stockboy in thec***dren’s Shoes Department of a famous 5th Avenue department store.The problem was that I had to do it as a male, and I no longer wantedto be male in any way! I had to find a way to change that, or at leastthe job. I did not yet know how to do it, but I knew I would somehowfind a way.As soon as I got home from work each night, I would shower, and changeinto some frilly lingerie borrowed from Margo. She was generous to afault with me, but I could not continue to borrow things all the time.She had made me a present of the white outfit that I had worn on myfirst night in Drag, but a girl needs more than one outfit. There wasbut one answer. We had to do what every woman enjoys doing more thananything else. We had to go shopping!Saturday morning was bright and breezy in New York City. It had beenone week since my first night in Drag, and it was time to take the nextstep. Margo laid out the outfit I would wear after breakfast. There wasa yellow based floral print skirt with a hemline that fell just abovemy knee, and a matching loose fitting jacket. To go with that was alight pastel green silk blouse, and green shoes and bag that werealmost the same color as the blouse. Margo also let me wear the aqualingerie set that she had worn last Saturday. I tucked my penis backinto my crotch, and slipped on the panties. “Always dress to the nineswhen you go out shopping,” Margo told me as we put our clothes on. “Youget a lot better service from the tacky shopgirls when you look betterthan they do!” She was right.I was shifting things from the pink purse to the one Margo had justgiven me when I came upon something I had almost forgotten in therigors of moving that week. It was Peter’s business card. Peter and Ihad danced at “The Gilded G****” last Saturday night, and I promised tocall him. I tucked the card into the frame of the mirror over mydresser. I did not want to forget to call on Monday when he would beback at his desk. I wanted very much to see him again.We were ready to go out by 10:00AM, and the elevator whisked us to thestreet. Another womanly adventure lay ahead!We hailed a taxi, and I got in first to slide across the back seat, soMargo could get in. I glanced at the driver, and caught him trying tosneak a peek up my skirt in the rear-view mirror as I passed along theseat. I was in a good mood, so I let my legs spread, and my skirt tohike up just enough to give him a flash of my thigh above my stockingtop. He took it all in. I wonder what he would have thought if he hadknown that a little higher above that stocking top, my penis was neatlytucked away protected by my panties. He just got a very pleased look onhis face, and said, “Where to, ladies?!”The cab weaved its way through the usual crush of midtown New York Citytraffic, and soon deposited us in front of “Macy’s” at Herald Square. Itreated the driver to another peek up my skirt as I slid out. Hegrinned appreciatively. I liked being a tease!Margo led the way into the store. Macy’s was its usual hubbub ofactivity, but soon we had shopping bags full of bras, garter-belts,blouses, skirts, stockings, dresses, jeans, shoes, make-up, andjewelry. We spent about $300.00 in all. “Just get your dressy thingshere,” Margo advised. “We can get the everyday stuff cheaper else-where.” We walked out of the store loaded, and walked up 34th Street toget some of that “everyday stuff” to add to our load.Our last stop was a wig shop on 5th Avenue near 35th Street. Margoseemed to know the owner, and introduced me to him. “Bobbi, this isIra,” she said. “Be very nice to him. All the girls like us get wigshere.” Ira was about 55 years old, smelled of old cigars, and was rudeenough to give my bottom a good feel while I looked at the wigs. Margogave me a signal that I should not protest the intimate touch, and Iracontinued feeling me up all the while we were in the shop. I tried topretend not to notice, but it really bothered me quite a bit!When Ira rang up the sale for the two wigs I bought, I saw why Margohad motioned to me that I should not complain. Ira had marked the bill”Shopworn”, and taken 60% off the price! “He gets his jollies feelingup any Drag Queen that comes in,” Margo said when we were back out onthe street. “He’s a pig, but it saves you some money.” I was learning awhole new set of ethics on my way to becoming a woman.The taxi deposited us back at our apartment, and we took my purchasesinside. It was all we could do to carry it all. I had spent almost$500.00, but now I had a woman’s wardrobe. I could live now as a womanfull time if I wished. All that remained was to be able to have a job,and support myself as a woman.That was what I wanted then above all else in the universe. I had neverfelt comfortable as a male. It took me a long time to figure out whatwas wrong, but now I knew. My c***dhood had started out normallyenough, but I was never really interested in the things that the otherboys in the neighborhood were.= = * = =I found sports boring. My father could never understand this, andshowed his displeasure by all but ignoring me as I was growing up. WhenI was about 14 years old, I even tried to cultivate an interest in someof the things he liked in an attempt to get closer to him, but he putdown my lack of knowledge of those things, and managed to strain ouralready tenuous relationship even further. I was just not what hewanted in a son.If I did not get on well with the boys in the neighborhood, I did enjoyplaying house with my sister and her girlfriends. The girls liked itbecause that way they had someone to play the “daddy”, but I loathedthat role. It did not suit me at all, but at least I was in the gamethat way. I did not know what was wrong with me. I only knew that I wasdifferent somehow, and that I did not seem to fit in completely withthe “normal” groupings of c***dhood. I was 15 years old when I began torealize why.I had only been 15 for a few months, but I already considered myselfenough of an adult to act on my own. Apparently my parents agreed tooone day when I found myself left alone at home. I had a slight cold,and I had talked my mother into letting me stay home from school. Myfather was at work, of course, my sister was in school, and my motherhad to visit her sister in a hospital some distance from where welived. “We’re giving you a big responsibility,” my mother announced asshe was leaving. “Take good care of the house. I’ll be back aroundthree fifteen.” With that she pulled her coat on, and left. I wasalone.I glanced at the kitchen clock. It was 8:30AM. If my mother was not dueback until about three that left me six and a half hours to amusemyself on my own. I had not had breakfast yet, but I was not reallyhungry. I wandered through the house aimlessly looking around therooms. There must be an instinct to do that in all of us. Sort of likesome primordial a****l surveying a new territory.I stepped into my sister’s room. I looked at the dolls lying about, andpicked one up. This was the baby doll that we used when we playedhouse. I had cradled it in my arms as its “daddy” many times before,but there had always been a little girl around to take it away from me.Today, however, I could hold it for as long as I liked. I vaguelythought about how much I liked being its “mommy” for a change, andnoticed my sister’s robe lying across the bed. I touched it, andthought, “Why not?”I stood and removed my pyjamas. I was naked in my younger sister’sroom. That was Freudian enough, but nothing compared to what was tocome. I picked up the robe, and found a “baby doll” nightie underneath.I gazed at it for only a moment before I caught myself stepping intothe panties, and pulling them up my legs. I had a little troublegetting my penis into them. It stood out rock hard from my body, and Ihad to lay it back against my tummy. I slipped the top of the nightieover my head, and felt the cool nylon fabric caressing my torso as itfloated down over me. My nipples too were now erect, and I could justmake out the outline of their little nubs poking into the fabric when Ilooked in the mirror.I tugged the robe around me, put my feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers,and trembled all over. To this day I find it difficult to describe whatI felt at that moment. Something changed in me. I felt real and aliveat last! As a boy I always felt as if I were acting a role in costumein some strange play. This was different. I was normal, the way Ishould have always been. I picked up the dolly, and went to the kitchenfor my first breakfast as a girl.After breakfast I went back to wandering the house in the robe andnightie. This time I stepped into my parents’ room. It was strangebeing there especially dressed as I was. This room had always been theinner sanctum of the whole house. As c***dren we might run roughshodthrough the rest of our home, but we always stopped at the door to thisroom, looked in, and waited for specific parental permission to enter.There was something almost sacred about it. It smelled lightly of “OldSpice” and my mother’s perfume. I walked slowly around the room takingit all in.I stood before my mother’s bureau. I was pretending to be the “mommy”of the house, and I wondered what a real mommy might keep in thedrawers. I opened one, and saw a delicate pile of silk and lace. I tookout a pair of my mother’s panties, and held them up to look at. I knewat that instant what I had to do. The clothing of a little girl that Iwore would suit me no longer. I was 15 years old, and enough of anadult to be left alone in the house for the day. Only the clothing ofan adult woman would do.I may have never been comfortable as a boy, but I could now feelcomfortable as a girl. I needed to know if I could feel comfortable asa woman! Was this what I had been yearning for all of my 15 years? Ionly knew that it felt right, and that it had aroused feelings andemotions in me that I wanted to explore!I placed the panties on the bureau, and returned to my sister’s room.There I stripped off the robe, nightie, and slippers, and placed themon the bed as I had found them. I picked up my pyjamas, and took themto my room. Then I returned to my parents’ room, and stood in front ofthe bureau looking into the mirror at myself. I was nude, but I stillclutched the dolly. I was about to go from little girl to woman. Thisbaby doll was about to start growing up!My hand fell to the panties on my mother’s bureau, and I picked themup. I examined them slowly. They were white nylon with white lacepanels at the sides. I swallowed hard, stepped into them, and pulledthem up about my hips. The nylon felt cool against my skin. I felt arush of excitement flow through me. They felt good! I looked down tosee my penis straining against the filmy material. I pressed it upagainst my tummy, and looked into the open drawer.My hands found a white nylon bra that almost matched the panties. Islipped my arms through the straps, and reached behind me to fasten it.I had some trouble with the catch at first, but soon had the brasecured around my chest. My tiny male breasts did only a little towardfilling out the C-cups, but a couple of pair of stockings did the jobnicely. I looked down at my brand new breasts. I wished in my heartthat they were real!After a moment of looking, I found a garter-belt and stockings. Thegarter-belt was soon around my waist, and the elastic top helped tohold my penis back against my tummy. The stockings were more of aproblem than I expected, and it took me a while to figure out the bestway to put them on, and hook up the garters. I managed to put a run inone of the stockings in the process, but I was too excited to care!I looked at myself in the mirror standing in my parents’ room wearingmy mother’s lingerie. I was far from beautiful. In fact I looked ratherungainly, but things felt right! I could not explain it, but in thatlingerie, no matter how bad I looked, I felt like I belonged at last!Male clothing had always seemed heavy and encumbering, but these lightwhisps of nylon and lace made me feel alive! I had now to finish thejob.In the drawer was a white nylon half slip with lace trim. I put it on,and looked in the other drawers. They were filled with all sorts ofpretty things. I wanted to try them all! I finally settled on a knittedpink top, and slipped it over my head. It clung deliciously over mybreasts, and I took a moment to admire the way they looked in themirror before moving to the closet. I had seen into my mother’s closetbefore, and I knew what I wanted next was there. I quickly located thewhite skirt with the pink belt. I had seen my mother in this outfitbefore, and I had always liked it. I wanted to see how I looked in it.At the bottom of the closet were the shoes. I took out a pair of whitepumps with four inch heels, and tried them on. They were a littletight, but I could get into them. I stood unsteadily on them, and myeyes found the blonde wig on its form on the closet shelf. In a secondit was on my head, and I returned to the bureau for a look.In the mirror was a strange sight. There was a strange blonde girlstaring back at me. She was rather plain, and perhaps not the prettiestgirl I had ever seen, but the realization that she was me made my heartskip a beat! I had seen myself in mirrors before, but I had never paidmuch attention to the way I looked other than to ensure that my hairwas parted properly. I looked the female me over very carefully.The first thing I noticed was that my face appeared rather plain for agirl. It took me a moment to realize that it needed make-up. I lookeddown at the bureau, but saw nothing like what I thought I needed. Istarted looking through drawers. Soon enough I came upon the drawerwhere my mother kept her extra make-up. The tubes, bottles, jars,compacts, pencils, brushes, and boxes were a mystery. I spent quite awhile sorting through them before I got an idea of what they were allfor. Then I had to chose a color scheme. Since the outfit I was wearingwas pink and white, I chose shades of pink. I decided against usingnail polish then thinking that it would be difficult to remove beforesomeone else came home.I applied the make-up the way I thought it should be applied. I am surethat I looked nothing short of grotesque, but maybe it was not all thatbad after all. I do know that I looked very different when I wasfinished, but I also felt all the more female. I felt the way it seemedI should feel. I knew in my heart that this was right. It was now11:45AM. I was starting my first day as a woman, and I had almost fourhours of it ahead.I spent quite some time just looking at myself in a number of mirrors.I wanted to see my new female incarnation from as many angles aspossible. No matter what view I took, I liked what I saw! Gone were theshapeless clothes of my male self! Gone were the angular male featuresun-softened by make-up! Gone was the feeling of rough wools and cottonsagainst my skin! Gone was the lanky boy who never could fit into therole into which he was cast by some perverse misalignment of geneticmaterial!In his place was the soft female form into which he should have beenmoulded from the first. The feeling of satin and lace caressed herdelicate flesh. The subtle shadings of her make-up blended her featuresinto a soft balance. The clothing fitted and enhanced her form to setit off at its best.I felt wonderful! It did not matter that I would probably not havepassed as a woman on the street that day. I knew that such things wouldcome in time. All that I cared about was that I had found the real meat last! The best part of that was that I liked HER!When most people consider making major changes to their lifestyle, thefirst things that they picture themselves doing are the things thatappear to be the most spectacular, or the most fun. I had just madesuch a major change to my lifestyle. Indeed, visions of dancing untildawn in a long sequined evening gown flowed through my mind. Even atthat moment I could picture myself doing it. What really happened,however, was something much more mundane. I went downstairs, and mademyself some lunch. It was such a simple thing, but the doing of simplethings that day affirmed and validated the woman that I had become. Thespectacular is usually done by a character in a dream, but the mundaneis done by real people every day. I was indeed real as a woman, and Idid those “every day” things to prove it.Doing all of those mundane things made me feel very good indeed. Iwalked all over the house just to listen to the click of my high-heelsas I walked. I moved in the chair and on the sofa in the living roomwhile I sat watching television just to see the different ways that myskirt as I changed position. I bent, twisted, and moved in as many waysI could think of to catch glimpses of different parts of my now femaleanatomy in different ways. I did all that I could that a woman might dothat day. I had a lot of time to make up for.I liked the way that my female clothing felt. By 1:30PM, I was becomingsexually aroused by that fact, and all that had happened that day.Somehow I found myself back in my parents’ room staring at myself inthe mirror. I wondered what would I look like to a man. I slid my skirtup to expose the creamy skin above my stockings. I liked how thatlooked! I did it again. Soon I was sexually teasing myself in themirror. My hand went to the zipper at the back of my skirt. I undid it,and slid the skirt to my feet. I was doing a striptease for myself, andI was enjoying both sides of it!Before long I wore only panties and bra, and I lay down on my parents’bed. I had never laid there before. It always seemed almost sacred.This was where my father fucked my mother! I looked down my body to seemy penis straining against the thin panties that I wore. It seemed toharden even more with the thoughts of them together here! I touched it,and a shiver ran through me. I rubbed at the bottom of the head withjust the tip of my middle finger like a woman masturbating her clit. Mybreath came in excited gasps. I bounced my ass on the bed thinking ofwhat it could be like to have a man fucking me! My release was copious.I came in long spurts. It soiled my panties, but I did not care. I hadfound what I should always have been!The clock said 2:20PM. My mother would soon be home. I arose, and tookoff the bra and wig. I carefully placed everything back where I hadfound it. Then I went to my room for a robe, and went into thebathroom. I was just starting to take off my make-up when I heard mymother entering the house. She called to me from downstairs, and Ianswered that I was going to take a bath. I got the last of my make-upoff when I realized that I was still wearing my panties. I slipped themoff, and held them up for a look before putting them into the pocket ofmy robe. My mother would think that they were lost in the laundry. Theyreally were my panties now!= = * = =Margo and I plopped into two chairs in the living room of the apartmentwe now shared. Boxes, bags, and packages from our shopping spree to getme a complete female wardrobe lay all about the room. I was tired! Ikicked off my high-heeled shoes to give my feet a rest. I knew Margowanted to go to “The Gilded G****” tonight as she did every Saturdaynight, but I was not sure that I was up for it. I did want to wear someof my pretty new things, and I liked the atmosphere of the club, so Iknew that we would wind up there.”Well, Bobbi,” said Margo at length, “shall we put these things away?”It took me a moment to gain my feet, but soon we were in my bedroomwith all of the parcels. Margo sat on the bed opening things, andpassing them to me to be put away. I only had a minimum of maleclothing there. Just enough so that I could work at my male job until Icould find work as a woman as I knew I would, and that clothing I kepttucked away in the bottom drawers of the bureau. There was plenty ofroom for the things I had just purchased.”We should get ready to go out soon, Bobbi,” Margo said as the lastsoft and lacy piece of my new feminine attire was gently placed in thedrawer. “All right,” was all I said in response. I was tired, but Isort of did want to go out. I had to live in male clothing all week atmy job, so I relished every moment I could spend as a woman. Margoworked as a woman as a clerk in a store, and I too wanted a job as awoman. That all made the time that I could spend in a dress all themore precious to me. I knew that a shower and a change of clothes wouldperk me up enough to go out.There were two other problems to going out with Margo that evening.Margo liked going to “The Gilded G****” on Saturday nights, and Margoliked going to “The Gilded G****” on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday,Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights too! The problem was that Margowas an alcoholic! She kept it enough under some control so that it didnot affect our situation together then, but it caused quite a number ofproblems for us later as it got worse. I enjoyed a drink or two at thebar, of course, but I did not want to try to keep up with her drink fordrink as she always tried to get me to do.The other problem was that Margo turned tricks for cash with some ofthe men who liked Drag Queens that came into “The Gilded G****” tosupplement her income. She had gotten me into doing that once, and Iwould probably do it again, but I did not want to tonight. She usuallytook them to one of the sleazy hotels in the Times Square area, so Iwould have the apartment to myself for a while later tonight when Icame home. Bringing a trick up here was reserved for only a few of herspecial regulars like Frank who we had brought here last week. I justwanted to somehow insure that I could watch television later withouthaving to listen to the sounds of Margo getting fucked in the nextroom.I had a word with Margo about all of this while we were gettingshowered and dressed. I told her that I wanted to try some things on myown when we went out that night. After all, I had been in public for aweek as a woman, but she had been with me to advise and direct forevery minute of that time. I told her that I appreciated her help, butI wanted to see how I could handle things as a woman for myself. It wasas much true as it was a ploy to get around the problems, and perhapsmore true than anything else. I did want to feel what it was like to bea woman on my own.Margo took it well, and went along with it. “So the little bird wantsto fly on her own?” she joked. “That is fine with me. It’s about timethat you did! You are as much woman as I can make you now. The rest isup to you!” I knew that she was right. I thought that I was justgetting by a couple of problems, but the time had come for me to leavethe nest. I was a woman now, and if I wanted to continue being one, Ihad to go out on my own, and do it.This Baby Doll was growing up a little more. It had started with thepanties from my mother’s bureau four years earlier, and this was thethird step. For a moment my mind wandered back to that second step inbetween when I lost my virginity to a man!= = * = =It was only about four months after the first time I had dressed as awoman in my mother’s clothes that it happened. I was left alone a fewother times since that first day in Drag, and each time I headeddirectly for my mother’s bureau to dress. I was getting better at it,and I even seemed to be having some of the same feelings toward thingsthat a woman might have. At 16 years old I was awakening sexually moreand more each day, and that sexual awakening was in an attraction tomen as sexual partners, and not to women. It just felt natural that wayto me.I fantasized about what it might be like to be seduced by a man as awoman. I would lie in my parents’ bed in one of my mother’s filmynighties, and pretend that I was being made love to by a man. I wouldhold one of my father’s king-sized pillows to me making believe that itwas my man. I would slide the hem of the nightie up to my belly, androll onto my back. Then pull the pillow on top of me, and masturbate toclimax while bouncing on the bed as if I was being fucked by a man. Iwanted it to happen for real! I did not have long to wait.I grew up in Union City, NJ. Not very far from where we lived was avacant lot on the edge of the Hudson River Palisades. Looking straightdown from the cliff, you could see the entrance ramps for the LincolnTunnel. Looking out across the river, you could see New York City. Inthe lot was the ruins of the foundation of an old building. A fewpeople would sit on the ruins or park in the lot to watch the ships onthe river, and just enjoy the view. You could also find a rathertreacherous path or two that led down the cliff to some more secludedledges for sitting and watching. This all amounted to the local”Lover’s Lane” in the evenings. I, however, was a daytime watcher, andso was an older man who seemed to enjoy watching me more than theriver!He was about 35 years old, or maybe a year or two younger when we met.He worked a night shift, and sometimes spent the afternoon sitting onthe wall, and watching the river like I did after school. I know nowthat he was cruising almost anyone who came into the lot, bit in thosedays I was still a little naive to such things.He was about 6’1″ tall with black hair, and looked very Italian. He waswell muscled, but with just a tiny bit more tummy than he should haveto make his physique perfect. We had talked a few times, so I knew thathis name was Don, but not much more about him. I was about to learn agreat deal more on that day!I was sitting on the wall watching a cruise ship dock on the other sideof the river when he sat down beside me. We greeted each other, andtalked for a while about the ship. While we were talking, a car with aman and woman inside pulled into the lot behind us. Don and I tooklittle notice at first, but after a little while I turned to see thecouple in the car kissing, and the man touching the woman’s breast.Don looked too for a moment, and turned back to me saying, “Do youthink he’ll get a feel of her pussy too?” I replied with only a smile,but as I did I shifted my seat a bit, and touched my crotch. In myyouth, I was getting somewhat excited by the scene. I was also thinkingof what it would be like to be that woman getting my breast, and maybemy pussy, felt by that man! I knew that I wanted it to happen, but Iwas not yet able to understand it either.Don saw what I was doing, and picked up his cue. “Are you gettinghard?” he whispered to me. I was surprised by his question, but somehowI think I actually grasped that he was propositioning me. I knew that Iwanted it to happen, but I did not know what to say next. In a haltingvoice, I said, “I don’t know.””Would you like me to feel it, and see?” Don asked in a low voice.Nervously I nodded, and his right hand slowly moved to my crotch.I jumped slightly as Don’s hand touched me. My penis throbbed withpleasure as he held it between his thumb and forefinger through mytrousers. It grew harder as he fondled it. My breathing came morequickly now, and I looked up to see him smiling at me. I wanted to fallinto his arms, and kiss him right there and then, but we were in publicview in broad daylight. I ached for more of what was happening to me!”Yes, you’re getting a nice hardon there,” Don said. “I live in theapartment house down the street. Would you like to get a little morecomfortable with me?” I needed no further encouragement. I wished thatwe were there already. A quiet “Yes” was all I said, and we were off. Iglanced into the car as we passed. The man had his hand up under thewoman’s skirt now. She and I were both getting our “pussies” felt thatday!Don and I were soon in his apartment. I hoped that he would take thelead in this, for I was not sure of what to do, or what would happen inthis, my first time! I need not have worried. Don sat on the sofa.”Strip for me, honey!” he ordered. I slowly took off all of my clothes,and stood nude for him to look at. I could see the bulge in histrousers, and yearned to touch it. I walked to him, and he reached upto play with my now fully erect penis. With it in his hand, I sat downnext to him.Don’s arms enfolded me, and we kissed a long probing kiss. I had neverkissed a man in that way before, but it was wonderful! I matched everymovement of his tongue in my mouth with a response from my own tongue.Then my left hand dropped to the lump in his pants. It felt huge! Muchbigger than my own penis, and I felt that I had to know what it waslike. “Mmmm!” Don murmured. “You’re a hot one, honey! I like that. Comeon!”Don stood and pulled me to my feet. Standing, he took me in his armsfor some more kissing and feeling. I could feel the hardness of hiscock pressing into my naked thigh through his pants. He broke theclinch after a few minutes to take my hand, and lead me into hisbedroom. I did not resist. I wanted him to have me as soon as possible!In the bedroom, Don turned down the double bed, and then took me intohis arms for another kiss. Then he lay me down on the bed, and stoodover me. He stripped off all his own clothing as I watched. The curlyblack hair on his head was matched by a forest of curly black hairs allover his body. To this day, I am most turned on by men with hairychests.At last Don removed all but his briefs. I stared at the bulge in them.I knew what was making that bulge, and I wanted to take it in every waythat he wanted to give it to me! I stared even more when he strippedaway the underpants, and I got my first good look at his cock. Ithought it was one of the most wonderful cocks I had ever seen. It wasabout seven inches long with its straight slender shaft ending in abeautiful circumcised head. I had to touch it!Don lay down on the bed next to me, and took me in his arms. My handtouched him on his ribs, and began to make its way downward on hisbody. As we kissed in that sensuous embrace, it reached his hip. Iliked the feel of Don’s flesh, and the warmth of his body pressingclose to mine as I lay in his arms. Something about all of this feltright to me. I had only felt this way before when I was in Drag in mymother’s clothes. I felt like the woman I was in this man’s arms. Iclosed my eyes to better savor his probing kisses, the touch of hishands on my body, and the feel of his skin against mine.I moved my hand a little further down, and felt the first brush of hispubic hair under my fingertips. I played with my fingers in his curlyblack bush causing Don to writhe a bit with pleasure. His hand had beencaressing my penis all the while. I wanted to return the favor, but Iwas hesitant. I was having the normal virgin’s nervousness about Don’s.I wanted very much to feel it. I wanted to hold it in my hands, and getto know every inch of it. I knew that I had to do it. I mustered all ofmy courage, and my hand moved lower.My hand then touched Don’s cock! A shiver of pleasure ran through me,and Don moaned in ecstasy. I had, of course, touched my own penisinnumerable times before, so I expected this to be the same, but it wasnot. I do not know why. A cock is a cock, and basically all men’ssexual hardware is similar, but Don’s cock did not feel like my penis.I liked the way it felt, but it felt different.I played with Don’s cock for a very long time, and felt it grow longand hard in my hand. I was enjoying this. I ran my fingers all over hiscock, and rolled the shaft between my palms. I weighed his balls in myhands, and gently kneaded his scrotum. I let myself be guided by what Iknew I liked to have done to me, and by my desire to explore all ofthis man. I was caught up in the experience! This is what I wanted. Iknew the woman I was from the times alone in Drag. I would now be ableto fulfill the full potential of that woman with this man. He waswelcome to every part of my body in any way that he wanted it. Hispleasure was all I was for at that moment.Don then moved to take his full pleasure with me. “I want you now!” hegrowled into my ear with an urgency I had never heard from anyonebefore. He gripped me tightly, and rolled me onto my stomach. “Holdstill!” he ordered, and I felt a cold lump of Vaseline squirt onto myasshole. I flinched at first, but wiggled my ass in anticipation of myimminent deflowering as I felt Don’s fingers rub the jelly into myanus.Then there was something other than a finger at my ass. I immediatelyknew what it was, and I let out a small prayer that I could take itenough to satisfy my man. I felt Don push at my tender, young, virginalbottom, and felt my flesh spread as he forced his way deep inside ofme! I felt as if I was being impaled on a peg as my asshole spreadwider and wider to accept him into me.It hurt! It hurt like nothing I had ever felt hurting before, but itfelt very good at the same time. The spasms of pain rippled through me,but soon subsided to a level that I could ride along with the ripplesof pleasure that alternated with them. This was what I had wanted, andnow I was getting all that I had hoped for!Don rode me for some minutes. I reveled in every stroke, and gasped inecstasy every time he drove that wonderful cock of his into me. Iwanted it to go on for a very long time, but then there was somethingdifferent in Don. His movements became erratic, and his body stiffenednoticeably. He drove his cock deep into my bowels with a v******e I hadnot felt from him before. He groaned a deep guttural growl, and I feltthe warmth of his cum filling me! My man had cum inside of me! I hadbeen well and truly fucked! I had lost my virginity!After a while, Don rolled off of me, and lay beside me on the bed. Hepulled me to him, and kissed me again. I looked at the time, andrealized that I had to get home for dinner. I dressed quickly, kissedDon in good-by assuring him that I would seem him again soon, andheaded for home. My ass squished a bit while I walked. I thought aboutmy first fucking all the way home, and on into that night. This babydoll was really growing up!= = * = =Margo was staring at me from the doorway to my room. “Are you coming?”she asked.I snapped out of my daydream, and replied, “Yes! I’ll be right withyou!” I had finished dressing, so all there was to do was slip my wrapabout my shoulders, and leave. Margo and I were soon on the street, andheaded for “The Gilded G****” again. I was a woman now in every waythat I could be at that point in my life. I was enjoying it, and Iwanted more. I would soon find just that!We spent a good deal of the first few months of living together in thatsort of routine. A lot of my life at this time revolved around “TheGilded G****”, and the people that I met there. Margo would go therealmost every night, but I tried to hold it to just weekends with anoccasional foray in the middle of the week. It was not that I did notlike the place. I just felt that I had more things to do on my way tobecoming all the woman I could be than just hanging around in bars withthe other Drag Queens.I had a long way to go on the road that I had chosen for myself. Iwanted to be sure that I was doing it the right way, and the Gay andcloset-Gay men and transvestites in there were not the ones that Iwanted to do it with. There was another life that I wanted, and thatwas where I fitted in with people like the woman I was.Sub-title: A Working GirlIt was Saturday night again, and Margo was looking to go out. I wastoo. We had been living together for about two months now, and I wasestablished as one of the regular population of Drag Queens in New YorkCity. That was not a bad position to be in for now, but there was onethat I would much rather have had. That was as a real woman, and Iwould get it no matter what it took.Margo and I were as dressed up as we could be, and she was, as usual,complaining that I took too long at it. Margo’s alcohol problem wasgetting worse if anything, and there was no living with her if therewas something standing between her and a drink. I was almost readyanyway, so I put on my wrap, picked up my purse, and we were off to ourregular bar. I was looking forward to a good night, and Margo was justnot going to ruin it.The atmosphere at “The Gilded G****” was festive as ever. Some “gaybars” in the Times Square area of New York City can be rather dingy andsordid affairs, but this place always had a much higher class feelingthan the rest. It looked and acted more like an East Side club thananything else in the area including many of the “straight” bars.New York City has had a long succession of places where Drag was theorder of the day. It started with the old “Club 82” in the middle1960’s, and progressed through “The Gilded G****”, “TheG.G.Knickerbocker” which was the old “Peppermint Lounge” of ChubbyChecker and The Twist fame, “G.G.’s Barnum Room”, and ended with “TheG****vine” in the early 1980’s. They all had a slightly differentambiance, but “The Gilded G****” was always the one that wasremembered. It was the best of all!Margo headed directly for our usual place at the bar at the rear of theestablishment where Emma held forth as Barmaid. Margo and Emma launchedinto conversation the instant we sat down, but just as fast there was awhite wine in front of me, and a vodka rocks for Margo. “I alwaysremember what my good customers drink,” said Emma. I thanked her, andsipped my drink like a lady.Tonight was “Show Night.” Once a month a number of the girls, and someof their boyfriends would put together a small variety production onthe little stage. It was not Broadway by any means, but it was oftenquite good, and I had always enjoyed it. “What’s the show tonight,Emma?” I asked over the din of music that always filled the place. “Idon’t know,” she replied. “Ask Tina.”I turned to where Emma had motioned, and saw another Drag Queen sittingone stool away from me. “Did someone address me?” she said upon hearingEmma call her name. “Are you Tina?” I asked, and she nodded. “I wasjust wondering what the show was, and Emma said to ask you.” Tina movedto the stool next to me. “It’s very good tonight,” she began. “We havea dance number by the ‘G.G.Girls’ chorus line, a guy who does magic,and a sex-change singer who just cut a record. I hope you like it.”I replied that I was sure that I would. Then Tina said, “We only haveone problem, and maybe you can help with it. I am the talentcoordinator, and I should have eight girls in the chorus line, but oneis leaving. I need another showgirl for future productions.” I askedhow I fitted in with that, and Tina replied, “I have seen you a coupleof times in here with Margo. You’re new, but you carry yourself well.Would you like to be one of our showgirls? You don’t get paid, but youdon’t have to dance well, and it is a lot of fun!”I thought: “why not”! I liked the way the men here looked at me, andthe idea of being ogled on stage was appealing. “All right!” I said.”What do I do?” Tina told me that the next rehearsal would be on aTuesday evening in a couple of weeks, and I said that I would be there.She also asked me to join her at a stageside table for the show. Ilooked around for Margo, but did not see her. Emma called me over, andwhispered to me, “Margo has a trick. She went to the hotel with him.She said to tell you she would be home later.”I watched the show with Tina, and she showed me where I would fit in,and then introduced me to the other girls after the show. I got home atabout 1:30AM, and went right to bed. Margo got in at 4:00AM. She hadturned three tricks that night, and was drunk. She made some noise, butdid not intentionally wake me. I just lay back, and dreamed of being achorus girl.Those first few weeks of my life as a woman flew by quickly. Iconcentrated all I could at being as much a woman as I possibly couldbe with a penis tucked discretely between my legs in my crotch. Ilearned to walk like a female, and even developed a gentle sway in myhips that had male heads turning for blocks around whenever I walkeddown the street. I liked being looked at that way, and the first time aman actually whistled at me, my heart skipped a beat!I had made it as a woman so far. I had gone beyond the level of justDrag Queen. Anyone could be one of those. They were the ones who wereobviously men who dressed in women’s clothing as a sexual turn-on forthemselves and/or their sexual partners. In Drag, I looked nothing atall like a man, and in or out of Drag, I felt and thought like a woman.I was not a man in a dress. I was a woman with a penis! I was only acruel joke of nature that had made me this way. I knew that I had tochange that, and become totally a woman in every way that I could. Ijust did not yet know how.I did know that the male job that I had as a stockboy in a famous 5thAvenue department store was getting me down. I wanted to live totallyas a woman, but that was difficult when I had to dress in men’s clotheseach morning for work. I compromised as best I could. I gave up wearingany male underwear at all, and wore simple every-day lingerie with acotton camisole instead of a bra. I wore the most effeminate male outerclothes that I could. I let my hair grow long, and had it styled in oneof the waviest of the unisex styles that were popular at that time. Ifound a cologne that ran to the sweet side, but not as sweet asperfume. I even had my name on all of my identification and driver’slicense changed to just my first initials and last name, but I stillhad to live with the “M” in the little box marked “Sex” instead of the”F” that I wanted so very much. I looked like the classic “fairy”, butit made me just that much closer to the woman that I really was.My appearance as a “fairy” did not go unnoticed by my co-workers. Mostshunned me as if I had some sort of dread disease. A few tolerated me,the greater number ignored me, but a couple were outright hostiletoward me. One salesman with whom I had been friendly before nowavoided me at all costs. I was saddened by this, for he (his name wasDave) was one who I thought would understand, and maybe help me bridgethe gap. He was a couple of years older than I, and was a philosophymajor at Hunter College. We had talked of homosexuality in the contextof philosophy, and I assumed he would be supportive. I missed our talksvery much.I was a little surprised, however, at gaining a new friend in my newrole. I was befriended by our departmental secretary, Edith. We hadnever been close before, but something about the “new” me seemed tostrike a responsive chord in her. She was about 45 years old, butlooked some years younger. She had long blonde hair with just a touchof grey that she kept done up in a bun. She had a truly magnificentfigure for a woman of her age, and I thought that she must have been asmuch of a striking beauty in her youth as she was now. Edith had beenborn in Estonia, and had fled that country with her mother soon afterit had been annexed by the Soviet Union in 1940. He accent was delicateand haunting. I found myself drawn to her in a non-sexual way that Icould not explain. She did all that she could to encourage it.My family could not accept the change in me. My father and I had neverbeen close. I had been a disappointment to him as a son. When he sawwhat I had become, his macho homophobia kicked in, and he rejected meout of hand. He was quite vocal about it all, calling me “That fuckingfairy!” to all within earshot. My mother at first tried to calm him,but a gesture with the back of his hand stopped her. He had beaten heronce in the past that I knew of, and she would not risk it again. Mysister seemed more supportive, but too young to show it in outwarddefiance of our father. That left me isolated from my family. It hurtme deeply.My new appearance as a “fairy” at work also caught the notice of thePersonnel Department. One of the Assistant Personnel Managers began totake more than a passing interest in me. His name was Paul. It hadalways seemed like he looked familiar, but I could not place why. Ifound out soon enough.I was at “The Gilded G****” on Friday night sitting alone at a table. Iwas dressed in a new powder-blue cocktail dress that hugged my curvesseductively. I was just in the mood for meeting someone new when a mansat down at the table with me. I did not look at him at first, but Ithought to myself that I could use the cash from turning a trick thatnight, so if that was what he wanted, that was just what he was goingto get. I looked at him to say hello, and swallowed hard! It was Paul!He smiled, and said, “Hello. I’ve seen you around here before. Could Ibuy you a drink?” I accepted. Maybe he had not recognized me. It couldbe a kick to turn a trick with him, but I would have to be careful.Paul was married. He was one of the men who came into the bar lookingfor a “change” from their wives. Now I knew where I had seen himbefore, and why he had taken such an interest in the new me at work. Icalmed down a little. This might be fun!The waitress brought our drinks. As I sipped mine, Paul said, “I’vebeen coming here for quite a while, but I’ve seen very few girls likeyou. You’re very pretty. You look more like a painting than a girl.” Ithanked him for the compliment, and we made small talk for a while.Then Paul finally said, “I’d like to get to know you a little moreprivately.” I leaned over to him, and whispered, “We could go out for awhile. It will cost you twenty-five dollars, and ten dollars for theroom.” He agreed, and I led the way out of the bar.I took him to the Alva Hotel a few blocks away. It was just another ofthe seedy hotels that dotted the Times Square area. They rented morerooms by the hour than by the night. Paul registered us as another “Mr& Mrs Smith”, and we went to our room. This was not the first, nor thelast trick I would turn, but I was excited over fooling Paul this way.I liked being a hooker.Paul knew the procedure. I had barely locked the door behind us when hehanded me two tens and a five. “Would you like to spend a little more,and stay longer?” I asked in my most seductive voice. “No, not thistime,” he answered. “I’ll just take a blow-job for now.” That was allright with me. “Okay,” I said. “Take off your pants!”Paul dropped his pants, and tossed them over the chair. I was mildlyimpressed when he took off his briefs. He had about six and a halfinches of circumcised cock-meat hanging there, and it looked clean,smooth, and delicious! This would be even more fun than I had thought.One of the best parts of being a prostitute was getting a taste of areally nice cock once in a while, and Paul’s cock looked very tasty!I slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulders, and stepped out ofit. Paul looked at me in just my lacy powder-blue bra, panties, garter-belt with sheer stockings, and white shoes, and his cock came toattention! He took me into his arms for a kiss, and I took hold of it.It felt as nice as it looked, so I played with it for a minute. Then Iled him into the bathroom, soaped up my hands, and gave his cock a goodwashing. A working girl has to be careful, and it was going in my mouthafter all.”Take down your panties,” he asked. “I want to play with you while yousuck me.” I did as he asked, and my penis popped free. From the smileon his face, I could tell he liked what he saw!Paul lay on his back on the bed in the cheap hotel room, and I kneeledon the bed next to him. His hand was on my penis immediately, but he touched it gently. He played with it like a man playing with a woman’sclit. He was not rough with it like some of the men I had sex with. Histouch felt very good, and although most of the time I did not want mylovers to touch my penis, and break the illusion that it was nothingmore than a distended clit, I really liked the way he touched it. Thisblow-job really would be fun!I bent over, and took the length of his cock into my mouth. It tastedas good as it looked, and Paul sighed deeply with pleasure. I let hiscock slip from my lips with a delicious popping sound. His handcontinued rolling my five inch “clit” of a penis between its thumb andforefinger sending little shivers of excitement all through me. I washard by that time, and growing harder by the second. If he would usejust a little more pressure, and moved just a little faster, I couldget off too, but he was paying for this, so it was the client’spleasure that was important, and not the prostitute’s.I nibbled gently at the underside of his cock, and Paul’s whole bodystiffened. He was very responsive to all my ministrations, and it wasobvious that he was enjoying the blow-job I was giving him. I movedlower on his cock, and flicked at the ball sack that hung below withjust the tip of my tongue. Paul was moaning audibly now, and squirmingbeneath me on the bed. I licked his balls for some moments, and eventook one into my mouth to taste. I could have gone on with this for avery long time, but there was a time limit on the room, and I had toget him off before the limit ran out, but he tasted so very good!With a bit of disappointment that this would have to end, I took Paul’scock into my mouth to administer the coup de grace. He shivered withpleasure as my lips enwrapped the head, and slid down the length of theshaft. I really wanted to please him. I did a “deep throat” on him, andswallowed each time his cock reached the back of my throat. That way myglottis massaged the head of his cock sending further shivers ofecstasy through him. I then tightened the grip of my lips around hiscock, and pumped it in and out of my mouth increasing the speed of itas I went.Paul’s cock throbbed in my mouth, and I knew that I would soon reap therewards of my efforts. I braced for the first spurt of cum that I justknew would be forcefully gushing into my mouth. Paul took a deepbreath, held it for a moment, and then let it out in a long moaningsigh. As he did that, his semen started filling my mouth. It did notshoot in hard spasms as I had expected, but poured out slowly in onelong gentle but relentless stream. Its warmth filled my entire mouthbefore I realized what was happening. There was so much that I am sureit would have trickled out of my nose if I had not swallowed the firsthalf of his load while he was still cumming!The outpouring of semen from Paul’s cock finally stopped, and I let theshaft slip from my lips. He looked up at me with pleasure in his eyeswhile I tasted the sweet saltyness of the load of cum that filled mymouth, and then swallowed it all. I never waste a drop! I bent backdown to lick his cock and balls clean one last time, and he let go hisfinger grip on my penis. I really wanted some release too, but it wasnot to happen then for this working girl. I lay down next to him, andhe kissed me gently. I would have liked to spend the night with him,but that was all he had paid for.I lay in Paul’s arms for a little while, and played with his cock as itsoftened. I really wanted him to fuck me, but the trick was done. Ikissed him on the cheek, and said, “We should get dressed now,” to himsoftly. We reluctantly got out of bed.Paul asked me to let him dress first, and pose for him in just my bra,garter-belt, and stockings. Prostitutes do not usually do that fortheir “Johns”, but I wanted to please him. “Are you going back to theG.G.?” I asked.”No,” he said. “I have to go now. Can I see you again?”I moved to another pose, and replied, “Sure! I am at the G.G. mostnights. I will see you there.” He nodded, and finished dressing. Hereached down, and touched my dress that was lying on the chair. I didnot know why then, so I just kissed him good-bye, and let him out.Alone now in the room, I picked up my panties, and began to getdressed. I had a problem. Paul had excited me so much that my penis wasrock hard. I wanted to at least masturbate, but there was not enoughtime left on the room to do it. I had to leave here soon. It took asmuch concentration and effort as I could muster to get it tucked backbetween my legs into my crotch. It hurt that way, but there was noother was that it would not show. I really hated having a penis most attimes like these. I so longed to be rid, once and for all, of thatuseless lump of flesh. I had to find a way to do it!I adjusted my breasts in my bra, and picked up my dress. Something fellout of the folds of the dress, and onto the floor. I picked it up, andfound that it was a five dollar bill. Paul must have slipped it intothe dress when he touched it on the way out. He had left me a tip! Inthose days, thirty dollars for a blow-job and a kiss was a pretty goodprice. Paul must have enjoyed what he had gotten. It made me feel good.I put it in my purse, and put on my dress. A quick adjustment to myhair and make-up, and I was out the door. This working girl had donewell so far tonight.I walked back to “The Gilded G****” with my high-heels clicking happilyon the pavement. I passed a couple of Drag Queens that I knew on 8thAvenue. They were trying to pick up a trick or two out there with allthe “real-girl” street walkers. I waved a greeting, but did not stop. Ihad never turned a trick on the street, and I wondered what that wouldbe like. I would have to try it sometime.My new friend Tina was sitting at the front bar when I walked back into”The Gilded G****”. I sat down on the bar stool next to her. “How washe?” she asked. I looked at her with a puzzled look. “That guy!” shesaid. “I saw you leave with him, so I assumed you were going to turn atrick.”I ordered a drink, and said, “Oh, I didn’t know you saw us. He wasn’tbad, but he got me horny as hell!”Tina smiled knowingly at me. “I know the feeling,” she replied.We sipped at our drinks, and Tina asked, “We have a rehearsal for the’G.G.Girls’ chorus line on Tuesday. Did you get the leotard I told youto?” I had bought it that week. “Yes,” I said. “I got a red one, andthe other things too.” Tina set her drink down. “I’d like to see it,”she said. “This place is boring tonight. Why don’t we go to your place,and see what you have?” Margo was spending the night with a boyfriend,so I said, “All right. That sounds better than sitting here.” We leftthe bar, and went to my apartment. I was about to start my career as ashowgirl. I was excited, but still horny!Tina had not been to the apartment that Margo and I shared before, sothere was the usual ten minutes of showing her around, punctuated withthe usual polite comments about “how nice everything looked” from herwhen we arrived. She finally took a seat in one of the living roomchairs, and I offered her a drink. When I brought it Tina said, “Whydon’t you change into that leotard, so we can see what you look like asa chorus girl?” I got a tingle of excitement when she said “chorusgirl”! I was excited about being one of the “G.G.Girls”! I said,”Okay!” and went to my bedroom to change.Tina waited for me in the living room, so I could make a grand entrancein my rehearsal clothes. The management of “The Gilded G****” suppliedthe show costumes, so I did not have anything fancy, but I was lookingforward to posing for Tina in what I had. I stripped to the skin when Iwas alone in the bedroom, and looked at myself in the full-lengthmirror. I let my penis pop from its tuck in my crotch. I was stillhorny from my session with Paul, and with the excitement of the momentnow, it was still about half hard. I wanted to masturbate, but Tina waswaiting for me, so that would have to come later. I hated my penis! Ihad to find a way to be rid of it somehow.I took out my rehearsal clothes, and started to get dressed. These werework clothes, so there was a minimum of frills and lace, but they weresexy enough to make me feel quite feminine anyway. The outfit startedwith a pair of plain pink nylon panties with a little extra stitchingin the crotch to help keep my penis tucked safely away during the high-kick numbers. Over this I put on a pair of sheer-to-waist nylon tights.I put on a lightweight, but padded pink bra. I filled out what wasmissing in my bra cups with a trick that Tina had suggested. These weretwo small plastic bags filled with birdseed! They filled out mybreasts, but were pliable enough to mould to the shape of my bra, sothey looked natural. They also bounced and jiggled like real breastswhen I moved. After wearing these for a while, I covered the plasticwith a cover made from a male undershirt. That way my chest would notsweat so much when I wore them.The crowning touch of the outfit was a red jersey leotard, with, ofcourse, no legs, short sleeves, and an almost daring scoop to theneckline. I tied a pink and white scarf around my waist for a belt, andstepped into a pair of black leather dancing shoes with a two and ahalf inch heel. Then I tied my hair into a side pony-tail with anotherpink and white scarf.I looked at myself in the full-length mirror again. I really did looklike a showgirl! My penis twitched a bit in its tuck. I was still veryhorny, and I was excited over what was happening. I could hardly waitto show Tina.I opened the bedroom door, and stepped into the living room. Tinalooked up when I entered. She looked very pleased at what she saw, butthere was something else in her eyes as well. I could not put my fingeron what it was, but I liked the way she looked at me. I just enjoyedthe fact that she seemed to like what she saw.”Bobbi!” Tina exclaimed. “You look wonderful! That is exactly the lookthat I want for the ‘G.G.Girls’ in every way! I just knew it when Iasked you to do this. You should fit in very well indeed.” I got littlebutterflies in my stomach when she said that. It was really going tohappen. I was going to be a chorus girl! Tina asked me to walk and posefor her. I did it willingly. I was really enjoying this!After a few minutes of directing me, Tina got up to stand with me inthe living room. She looked me over very carefully, taking her timewith every bit of me. She bounced my titties with her fingers, and thelittle friction of my falsies against my chest made my nipples harden.She ran her hands down my curves, and over my bottom. I was alreadyhorny as hell, and her examination only heightened that! It seemed fora second that this was more than a simple theatrical examination. Itfelt like she was feeling me up! Then she stopped, and stood next tome.”Let’s try a couple of dance moves,” she suggested. I followed herlead, but it was not easy at first. Men do not usually move that way,but I worked hard at it, and soon I was almost able to keep up withher. I had the most problem with the high-kick. Tina showed me how touse the back of the sofa as an exercise bar to stretch my hamstrings,but it would be a few months before I could move the way she did. Atlast Tina called for a rest, and we both sat on the sofa.”You move very well,” Tina said as she caught her breath. I thanked herfor the compliment. “You could be really good if you worked at it. Haveyou thought about dancing lessons?” she asked. I had not considered it,but the idea intrigued me. Tina continued, “I have a friend who runs aschool. She’s a dyke, but she takes Drag Queens as students. I’ll giveyou her card.” Tina took a business card from her purse, and handed itto me. Her fingers brushed mine as she did, and she smiled deeply atme. I took the card, but I wondered what the smile meant.Tina lit a cigarette, and spoke again, “I have an idea for a skit thatI would like to try sometime at the G.G. You might just fit in. Howabout a costume change, so we can see?” I nodded in agreement, and Tinarose to lead the way to my bedroom.”What sort of skit do you have in mind?” I asked as we entered thebedroom. Tina’s eyes explored me once again before she answered, “It’sa comedy skit, and it’s set in a bedroom. Two of the boys want to doit, but I need a pretty girl in a nightie as ‘window dressing’ to backthem up. Do you have a sexy, but not too revealing nightie? Remember,we’re on stage, so it shouldn’t show too much.” I went to my bureau,and took out a pink nightie of a waltz length with a matching semi-transparent nylon robe. “That’s perfect!” Tina exclaimed. “Let me seewhat you look like in it.”Tina sat on the upholstered chair in my bedroom, and watched me strip.That did not help my horniness very much either! I like being looked atas a woman, and Tina’s gaze was as much a turn-on as any. I had notdreamed that she could be sexually interested in me, but as I watchedthe way her eyes followed my every move, I became aware that she wastaking more than a “professional” interest in me. In a strange way, Iliked that too! Maybe Tina was a Lesbian Drag Queen who preferred otherDrag Queens as sexual partners. I had a hunch I was about to find out.I now stood in Tina’s view wearing just my bra and panties. I unhookedmy bra, and watched her eyes flash as my small breasts appeared. Shewas enjoying this, and frankly so was I! I dropped my bra on thebureau, and reached for the elastic of my panties. I turned back toface Tina, and stripped them off. Tina smiled broadly, and took a deepdrag on her cigarette. “You’re even more beautiful than I thought!” shesaid with a note of real sincerity in her voice. I smiled, and stoodthere in the nude for a minute while she drank it in. I turned, anddonned the pink nightie. Tina still just stared at me.I stood in my bedroom in my pink nightie while Tina watched me. I did aturn for her, and let the nightie flare out as I did. “That’s it!”exclaimed Tina. “That’s the look I want for the skit! You’re a natural,Bobbi!” She really meant what she said too, as I would find out as timewent on.Tina looked at me for a little while longer. Then she stood, and walkedover to me. “You really are very beautiful,” she said softly as sheslipped her arm around my shoulders. I looked into her eyes, and herlips pressed to mine. I melted into Tina’s arms as she whispered, “Iwanted you the first moment I ever saw you.” Our tongues played tagwith each other as we fell onto the bed.Tina’s hand moved straight to my crotch. “There’s one part of you Ihaven’t seen yet,” she cooed into my ear as she nibbled at the lobe.”I’ll bet it’s just as pretty as the rest of you.” I spread my legs forher, and she took hold of my penis. “Mmmm… that is nice!” Tina saidas she played with it. “Would you like to see mine?”Tina stood up. I lay on my back on the bed with my fully hard penismaking a tent in my pink nightie. She lifted the hem of the nightie tomy waist, so she could look at my penis. She sighed audibly, and juststared at it.Tina did not strip, but turned her back, and lifted her skirt to removeher panties. Tina faced me again, and raised her skirt to expose herown penis. I got a shock when I saw it. Tina was hung!Tina had nine inches of penis standing straight out from her crotch! Myown penis throbbed even more when I saw it. I was horny ever since Igave Paul that blow-job. The sight of Tina’s penis made me even moreso! I had to touch it, so I reached toward her. Tina kneeled on thebed, and I played with her penis while she played with mine.”I want you now!” ordered Tina after a minute. She grabbed my hips, andmoved me to a kneeling position with my head down on the pillows. Tinareached for the jar of Vaseline on my night stand, and lubricated herpenis. She kneeled between my legs, and lifted my nightie to expose mybottom. She caressed it, and then spread my asscheeks to position herpenis at my anus.Tina pressed forward, and pushed the head of her penis into my ass. Shecontinued to push until she had run all nine inches of the shaft deepinto my bowels. It felt bigger than it looked, but in the state I wasin, it felt wonderful! Tina pumped her penis in and out of me, and shepumped hard. Tina made love only one way, and that was full out anduninhibited, but she was good at it!Tina rammed her penis into me for at least twenty minutes. I felt likeI was on fire with her! She could fuck harder than anyone I ever knew!I could do nothing but press my face into the pillows, and let her rideme as she willed. I glanced into the mirror, and saw her fully dressedover me with her head thrown back in ecstasy! She was a wild woman nowtotally unleashed!Tina then gave out a gurgling moan, and her penis throbbed hard withinme. I felt the familiar warmth grow deep inside of me, and I knew shewas cumming, and cumming hard! Her hot semen filled me up, and she fellaway from me with some of it glistening on her penis. I stretched outon the bed next to her, and just lay there on my stomach sweating andpanting, totally spent.Tina arose after a moment to get a towel to clean us both off. Then shelay next to me, and took me in her arms for a kiss. Her hand went backto my still hard penis. I was exhausted, but still with no release.Tina sensed that right away.Tina and I lay on the bed in each other’s arms while she played with myhard penis. She was still fully dressed except for her panties, and Iwas wearing my pink nightie. When we had caught our breath, Tina stood,and took my hand. She gently pulled me up to stand with her. She kissedme again, and said, “We have one more matter to attend to.” She movedme so that I stood with my back against the wall. “Stay there,” sheordered quietly.Tina kneeled on the floor in front of me, and raised the hem of mynightie. My penis pointed straight at her face. She flipped my nightieover her head, and took my penis in her mouth. She sucked it in thesame manner that she had fucked me earlier, and that was hard and fast!Every couple of strokes Tina would run her tongue around the head. Istiffened against the wall in passion. I had never had a blow-job likethis before. Try as I might to hold back, I could not! Tina releasedthe grip of her right hand from my thigh to tickle my balls, and I shotthe load of cum that had been building all evening down her waitingthroat! She swallowed it all, and then licked me clean.Tina reappeared from beneath the hem of my nightie, and stood up. I wasstill too dizzy from all that had happened to do anything except leanon the wall for support, but I managed to say, “Thank you.” Tinasmiled, and helped me to the bed. It was after midnight, so I asked herto stay the night. She agreed, and I offered to get her a night gown,but she declined. “I always sleep nude if you don’t mind,” she said. Ijust nodded. I was too spent to get up to get the night gown anyway.Tina stripped while I watched this time. Her panties had come off longago, so her bra was the last thing she took off. She had a very goodfigure for a woman with a nine inch penis who could fuck the way shedid, but I got another surprise when she removed her bra. Tina had realbreasts! They were not just the smallish “male” breasts that Margo andI had, but real female type breasts!Tina noticed me staring at them right away, and said, “Do you likethem?” She cupped her breasts with her hands to hold them up, so Icould see they were real. “Would you like to feel them?” she asked.I nodded, and Tina joined me on the bed. “How big are they?” I asked asI touched them.”They’re 36C!” Tina replied.I fondled Tina’s breasts, and weighed them on my hands. “How did youget them!?” I exclaimed excitedly! Tina was obviously pleased with myattentions to her breasts. She lay back on the bed, and said, “Well, Istarted with hormone cream, but that wasn’t enough, so about a year agoI had silicone implants put in. It only takes three days at thehospital.”I knew then that I had found the next answer to my question of how tobecome more a woman. Tina said she would give me the name of her doctorin the morning. I would have real breasts at last! All I had to figureout was what to do about my penis. I wanted to be rid of it. MaybeTina’s doctor would know about that. I would have to ask him. Wedrifted off to sleep with me still playing with Tina’s breasts.I woke up the next morning, and looked over at Tina in the bed next tome. She was still asleep, but uncovered, and totally nude. I could nothelp staring at the way her breasts looked. I had seen pictures of nudewomen, and I had been to a striptease show a couple of times, so I knewwhat a real woman’s breasts should look like. Tina’s looked very real!I had, however, only seen one woman’s breasts up this close before inmy life.= = * = =The incident had happened after a party when I graduated from highschool. We all had been drinking quite a bit of beer, and outinhibitions were down. There was a girl named Joyce in my class who Iwas friendly with. I knew that she was interested in me in a more thanplatonic way, but we never actually dated. We would talk, and goshopping together. I always envied the clothes she wore, and the wayshe looked. We were more like two girlfriends than anything else. Shealways defended me when the others laughed at me.I was standing alone when Joyce took my hand. “Come with me!” was allshe said. She led me to a bedroom, and locked the door behind us. Sheturned to me, and said, “We’ve always been good friends, and I can’tstand it when they make fun of you. Laurie bet me that you are a queer,so I have to find out for myself!” With that she took off her blouse,and unhooked her bra! Her breasts spilled out in front of me. They werebig and round like the pictures in the magazines. I wanted them, butnot in the way she had hoped. I wanted them on me!”Feel them, damn it!” she ordered! I reached out to touch them.They were heavier than I had expected. I examined them carefully, but alittle too clinically for Joyce. She pulled back with tears welling upin her eyes. “You are queer!” she shrieked, and threw herself on thebed crying. I tried to comfort her, but she would have none of it. “Getout of here, you damned queer!” she screamed!I left to find Laurie and another girl in the hall laughing at me. Iwould soon be the laughing stock of the party. I left the party rightaway. I was glad that I would not see any of them again!= = * = =Tina awoke to find me staring at her. She smiled and stretched. “Youreally like them, don’t you?” she asked. I nodded. I looked furtherdown at Tina’s nine inch penis. “Are you going to have the wholechange?” I asked. “No,” Tina replied. “I like my cock, but I like beinga woman too. It is just a permanent dildo to me, but my doctor doesthat operation too. You should talk to him about it if you areinterested.”Now I wanted the name of that doctor more than ever! At last I hadfound a way to get rid of this penis of mine that I hated so much. Idid not care what it took, or what it cost. I wanted my penis cut off!I wanted to be a woman!I got up, and made breakfast for us. Tina gave me the name of thedoctor over coffee. She explained very briefly about how the implantoperation she had on her breasts went. It apparently involved anincision beneath each breast, so that a plastic bag containing asilicone jell could be inserted to lift the “male” breast out from thebody. She showed me the hairline scars that the operation left. Theywere totally unnoticeable unless you were looking for them. She alsosuggested that I ask the doctor about hormone treatments to help themheal, and even grow a little more on their own. I told her that Iwanted it done right away. She laughed, and wished me luck.Tina went home after breakfast, but first reminded me about therehearsal on Tuesday. I assured her that I would not forget. I triedall that day to imagine myself as a chorus girl with real breastsjiggling as I danced. I very much enjoyed the thoughts!Sub-title: A Day in the LifeThe blast of the alarm clock shocked me out of sleep, and into theearth plane once again. It was 7:00AM on Monday morning, and I had toget ready for work. I really did not want to get up. I had been havingsuch a pleasant dream, but the rent had to paid somehow. I forcedmyself awake, and headed toward the bathroom.I could hear Margo waking up, and lighting a cigarette in the otherbedroom. It was her turn to fix breakfast, so I could take my time withgetting ready. She liked to shower after breakfast, so I could take aslong as I wanted. I stripped off my robe and blue lace nightie, andstepped into the shower. The fine needle spray tingled all over me, andstarted to wash away the final layers of sleep that still clouded mymind.I soaped myself all over playfully squeezing my own breasts while Iwashed them. They were not as big as Tina’s breasts, but I would callher doctor this week, and see what could be done to change that. Iwanted real breasts so very much.I had to be gentle with my bottom that morning. It was still a littlesore from the way Tina had fucked me on Saturday night. I liked beingfucked. I also like being fucked hard, but Tina had given my ass quitea reaming that night. I would feel it for a while yet.I took the nozzle of the shower off its hook to rinse myself off. Thetingling of the spray titillated my nipples, and made them stand erect.My penis was also growing hard. I stroked it with my soapy hands, andit responded to the touch. I could feel the ghost of a vagina thatlurked behind responding too, and I stroked even harder. I leaned backagainst the tile wall, and brought the nozzle down to spray against thescrotum and balls that hung beneath. The feeling was exciting! Ithought that it was what it would feel like to have someone eating thepussy that should have been there. I tried to imagine someone doingthat to me, but the only image that came through was that of Tina doingit. Was this what a Lesbian encounter would be like? I thought ofmyself having a sex-change, and being made love to by another woman.The fantasy took hold, and carried me off.I stroked harder at my penis. My breath now came in excited gasps. AllI could see was Tina’s head down between my legs with her long hairbillowing out across my thighs. In my mind she no longer had that hugecock that had ravaged my asshole on Saturday. We were two Lesbians benton the taste and feel of each other’s pussies on our tongues! I shookall over at the sheer a****l lust of it, and then I felt the warmth ofmy semen as it spurted from the tip of my penis, and ran over my hand.I shuddered deep inside with my orgasm. It took a few moments to catchmy breath afterward.I finished my rinse, and stepped from the shower to towel off. Margoknocked at the door. “Are you going to be in there all morning?” sheasked urgently. “Breakfast is ready, you have to go to work, and I haveto pee!” I unlatched the door, and she headed straight to a seat on thetoilet while I wrapped my pink terry-cloth robe about me. I tucked mynow soft penis between my legs, and went into the kitchen forbreakfast. It was the start of just another normal day, or was it?Margo and I talked about my seeing Tina’s doctor over breakfast. Shewas supportive, but not overly excited about it. “If that’s what youwant, Bobbi,” she admonished me, “then do it, but it’s not as easy asit sounds. What Tina had done to her breasts with the silicone implantsis simple, but a full sex-change like you seem to want is a big step.Just make sure you are making the right decision. There’s no turningback once you have your cock cut off!”Margo’s last sentence hit me harder than I would have expected itshould have. I did want to be rid of my penis, but in those terms, theidea was a shock. I assured her that I would consider things verycarefully before I made the final and irrevocable decision. I knew itwas what I wanted, but there was time to think about it anyway.After breakfast, I went to my room to dress for work. This was alwaysmy least favorite part of the day. I hated dressing as a man eachmorning. The men’s clothes that I wore might be the most effeminate Icould find, but they were still men’s clothes. They just reminded meall the more that I was not yet as much a woman as I wanted to be. Atleast I did not have to wear a suit in my job as a stockboy. I slippedout of my robe with a sigh, and prepared to get into my male costumefor the daily masquerade.I started with a pair of blue lace panties. I might have to wear men’souter garments, but my underwear was strictly female. I tucked my penisback into my crotch between my legs, so that I could still feel asfemale as possible no matter what I looked like outwardly. I topped mypanties with a blue camisole. Dressed that way, I still looked veryfeminine, and I liked that. I slipped a pair of light-blue socks on myfeet, and started on the clothing that made me look like a passable,although very effeminate, boy.I pulled on a pair of very tight jeans. They still had a very male flyand zipper, but I had stitched the crotch up a little higher than anymale trousers, and tapered the legs. They hugged every curve I had. Ipulled a lightweight, grey, crew-necked sweater over my head for a top,and stepped into a pair of brown penny-loafers.I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked almost, but not quite, likea girl with my longish hair fluffed out in a unisex style. I wasletting it grow long, but it was not quite full female length yet. Icould almost pass as a butch woman, but since most people at work knewme as a boy, they thought I was just “queer”.I was ready to leave for work except for one last item. I had justbought a leather bag with a shoulder strap. It was not a purse. It wasmore like a small photographer’s soft gadget bag. I purse would havebeen an obvious giveaway, but this I could get away with. A lot of the”Hippies” carried these, so I could too. It was even just big enoughfor me to put a padded bra, my make-up case, and some jewelry in thebottom under my wallet and change purse.Margo had finished her shower, and was sitting in the kitchen havingcoffee and a cigarette. “My, but don’t we look nice today!” she said asI entered the room. I thanked her as I pulled a light jacket on, andslung my bag over my right shoulder. I asked her what she thought ofthe bag. “It looks good,” she replied. “You could pass as a woman justthe way you are now, Bobbi. If you had make-up on, there would be noquestion. You’re very pretty. You just look like a girl.” That was whatI hoped I would hear. I said good-bye, and left for work.Margo and I lived on 46th Street just off 9th Avenue in New York City,and the Department Store where I worked was at 39th Street and 5thAvenue. That was just eleven blocks, so I usually walked. This morningwas clear, but the mid-September chill was a harbinger that winter wasnot far away. I felt good! What I wanted most in the world at thatmoment was to be a woman, and I was making progress toward that end. Itdid not take me long to get to work.I made one stop on the way in at a little hole-in-the-wall Coffee Shopon 39th Street. I usually stopped there each morning to get a cup ofcoffee to go, so I could have it in the stock room when I started work.I got a very nice smile from the young Puerto Rican boy behind thecounter. I do not know if he knew whether I was a man or a woman, butthe smile felt nice just the same. This was starting to be a very goodday.I went in through the Employee’s Entrance, and went to the time clockroom. I bumped into a man as I entered. It was Paul! “Oh, excuse me,”he started, “I didn’t see…” Paul stopped, and stared at me. “Bob?” heasked.I nodded, and said, “Yes, good morning!”A look of recognition, followed by a smile crossed his face. I was notsure what that meant, so I decided to proceed carefully. “I didn’trecognize you at first,” he said. “You’ve started looking verydifferent lately. You look nice, but different.” I thanked him for whatI assumed he meant as a compliment, and punched in. As I turned toleave, Paul said, “Err… Why don’t you stop by my office thisafternoon? I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”I wondered for a moment what he wanted to talk about. From the way hewas looking at me, I was sure that he had recognized me as the DragQueen prostitute that he had bought a blow-job from on Saturday night.He somehow seemed to like looking at me, though, so he was not angry. Iwas confused, but there was only one way to find out what was on hismind. “All right,” I said as I headed for my department. “I’ll be uparound 2:15PM after lunch.”The c***dren’s Shoes Department was quiet when I arrived. This wasnormal, for I was usually the first one in each morning, but the lightsin the office were already on. Edith, our departmental secretary, hadcome in a little early, so I bid her “Good morning!” in a cheery voiceas I entered.”Good morning, Bob,” she answered, and after looking at my moreeffeminate than usual appearance added, “My, but don’t you look nicetoday!” Her tome was that of a sincere compliment, and I thanked her asI sat down at the desk next to hers. She stared at me for a longmoment, and then said, “Bob, we don’t get much chance to just talk. Ilike you very much. Can I ask you a personal question?” I looked at heras I sipped at the coffee that I had brought tuzla escort with me. I wondered whatwas on her mind. I decided to find out, so I answered, “Sure.””Bob,” Edith began, “you must know that some of the people around youhave noticed a change in your appearance lately. I think that you lookwonderful, but some of the others have said some things that…” Edithtrailed off, so I jumped in with, “Edith, and you my friend?” My throatgrew tight as I spoke. I wanted desperately to tell someone all aboutthe me. I needed a friend beyond the collection of Drag Queens,cheating husbands, and petty hangers-on that populated “The GildedG****” who passed for my friends since the rest of the world had cut meoff. I hoped that Edith would be sympathetic, but I was scared!”Of course, Bob,” Edith replied. I mustered my courage, and said, “Ionly ask that you keep this confidential between just you and I.” Edithagreed, and I confessed, “I am what some people would call Gay. I havefelt this way for a long time, but only lately I have really begun tounderstand all of it. Most Gay men are content to look and act likeboys, but there is something in me that wants to go beyond that. Iwant…”Edith stopped me at that point, and surprised me by saying, “You knowyou make a better appearance as a girl than a boy anyway. I know whatyou want to do. I have read enough about it to have a good idea of whatyou may be going through. I don’t claim to understand it, but if thatis what this is all about, I’m behind you if you need me.”I was flabbergasted! The look in Edith’s eyes told me that she was morethan sincere in what she was saying. I knew then that I could trusther. I did not know why she was befriending me in the way that she was,but I did not care. I had found the friend that I needed sodesperately. I wanted to talk more, but we could hear the sounds ofsome of the others arriving, so we decided to have lunch where we coulddiscuss things privately. I looked forward to that lunch all morning.The rest of the department arrived one by one in their usual Mondaymorning stupor. Every one of them took some notice of my moreeffeminate than usual appearance that morning. The first two botheredme a little. Mr. Steinman, the Assistant Buyer, showed some obvioussurprise at it, and gave me only a perfunctory “good morning” inpassing. Alicia, our would be elegant Sales Assistant, gave me a lookof cold disdain, and said nothing. That was their problem, I thought,and went out to the stock room to start my work.I ran into Dave, our other Sales Assistant, and my one time friend inphilosophical discussions, on his way in out there. He looked me overcarefully, and bid me a cheerier “Good morning!” than had been his wontof late. He smiled at me, and added, “You look very nice this morning,”as he headed for the office. Maybe he had come to terms with the way Inow was. I hoped so. I liked having him as a friend.Last to arrive was Mrs. Adams, our Sales Supervisor. I met her as I wasmaking my morning rounds of checking the displays on the sales floor.”Good morning, err… Bob?” she said as she passed. “My, but don’t welook pretty today!” She was always full of sarcastic comments like thatfor everyone. I said “good morning,” but tried to take little notice ofher. It was just not worth it.The rest of that morning passed uneventfully. I thought quite a bitabout the reactions I had gotten to my appearance. Over all, it wasmore toward the positive side. Those who did not know me reacted as ifI were somehow really female. Those who did know me were split in theirreactions, but the one’s who meant something in my life leaned to thepositive side. I knew that I could pass as a woman while all done up inhigh Drag Queen glamor. It also seemed that I could do the same inordinary street clothes, and no make-up. Now I had three things to lookforward to that day. There would be lunch with Edith, the talk inPaul’s office, and getting into my bra, make-up, and jewelry to see howthat worked on the way home!”Are you ready to go? It’s almost noon!” Edith startled me with herwords in the quiet stock room. I was not wearing a watch, and I hadforgotten about the time. “I just have to get my jacket and bag!” Ianswered quickly as I hurried off to fetch them. A few minutes later wewere sliding into seats in a booth at the Coffee Shop down the street.Edith looked at me with a strange twinkle in her eye. I would soon findout why.We made some small talk to start, and then Edith said, “Bob, how far doyou want to go with this?” I was both surprised and pleased at thefrankness of her question. Her look told me that she would besympathetic to whatever I had to tell her even if I did not yet knowwhy she was being so open with me about it. I proceeded to tell her mystory.”Edith,” I began, “I told you this morning that I was Gay. That isn’tquite the truth. I was born a boy, but I have never felt like one allmy life. A Gay man is attracted to other men. I’m attracted to men, butin the way that a woman is attracted to a man. My feelings and emotionsare also those of a woman, and not a man. It took me a long time torealize it all, but I’m more female than male, and I’m going to be thewoman that I really am. I’m already living as a woman except for thisjob, and I’m looking for the first chance I get to change that too.”I stopped to take a sip of water, and then continued, “The last part isthe surgical operations to finish the job, and I’m eventually going tohave that done too! That is who I am.” I sat back when I finished mystory to see Edith’s reaction.She smiled, and said, “That’s what I had hoped you would say.””Bob,” Edith said. I interrupted her to say, “If you really accept whatI am, call me ‘Bobbi’. I spell it with an ‘i’, but most people think itis the male nickname with a ‘y’ when they hear it.” She chuckled atthis. “All right,” she said, “Bobbi, there’s something about you thatI’m very drawn to. Please don’t think I am being silly when I tell youwhy.” I assured her that she did not even have to tell me, but sheinsisted. I was just happy to have her as an understanding friend.”There has always been something about you,” Edith began, “that hasfelt strangely familiar to me. I couldn’t tell until the ‘change’ inyour appearance what it was, but I felt it all the same. When youstarted letting your hair grow, and dressing like that, I saw moreclearly what I had been looking at, but not quite seeing all along. Letme show you what I mean.”Edith reached into her purse, and took out an old wallet. Just then thewaitress appeared at our table. “What’ll it be, ladies!” she saidsnapping her gum as she took our order. Edith and I smiled at eachother in silence. I had passed another test. The mouthy New York Citywaitress had seen me as a woman, and nothing less. If I ever neededproof of what was meant to be, I had it now. There was, from thatinstant, never another question about any of it in my mind.The waitress brought our meals, and as we ate, Edith returned to thewallet. She opened it to an old photograph, and handed it to me. It wasthe picture of a young woman of about my age. She was dressed inclothing that looked old-fashioned, but in keeping with the apparentage of the photo. As I examined it more closely, I saw something more.I began to see a marked resemblance to me! It was by no means mydouble, but the woman in the picture could have passed as a sister. Iremarked about this to Edith, and she nodded knowingly.”That picture, Bobbi,” Edith said at length, “is me about twenty-sevenyears ago.” Edith looked wistful for a moment, and then spoke again.”It was taken,” she said, “just before I left Estonia with my mother.We went first to England, and lived there for about nine years allduring World War II. While we were there, I met a young R.A.F.Lieutenant, and fell in love.” Edith’s voice grew dreamy, and shepaused for a private thought. Then she continued, “He was killed in araid over Germany in 1944, but we had been a little indiscreet in ouraffections, and I bore him a daughter.”Edith’s mood grew more serious, and I was sure I could see tearswelling up behind her eyes. “I was determined to keep her,” she saidwith a catch in her voice, “no matter what my mother or the authoritiessaid, and I did! We had three years together. The details of thisreally don’t matter. The only important thing in my mind was to keep ustogether, but at the end of those three years, she caught ScarletFever, and died.” A small lonely tear slid gently down Edith’s cheek.She looked off into the distance, and we finished eating in silence.Edith regained her composure as we sipped at coffee after lunch. Shepicked up the story saying, “After that, my mother and I left England,and came here in 1948.” She paused for a minute, and looked at me withan embarrassed look. She continued sheepishly, “Now comes the sillypart, and please, Bobbi, don’t think me crazy, but my daughter wouldhave been just about your age by now. Since you already resemble me atthat age, I have an idea that she would have looked a lot like you bynow, and I have always wondered what it would be like if she were stillhere. I know it sounds a little insane, but I could almost think of youas a daughter. Can you understand that somehow?” Edith gave me ahopeful, but worried look, and sat back in her seat.It is difficult to describe how I felt at that moment. Edith, myfriend, had just explained to me how she not only accepted me as thewoman that I was trying so desperately to become, but also could see mein that role as her daughter. Maybe this was, after all, New York Citywhere the otherwise out of the ordinary passes for a normal and mundanelife, but this was not something that one would expect out of a quietluncheon conversation with a friend under any circumstances. I sippedmy coffee, and thought.It fit, however, the pattern of the rest of my life. I have long seemedto have the nine lives of a cat. If ever I lose something from my life,the universe replaces it with something else that is better adapted tohelp me in the situations that are about to come. When I had all butlost my masculinity, it gave me Margo, and a new feminine life. When Ihad lost most of my friends, it gave me Tina, and the promise of newfriends. My family had deserted me, and now the universe was giving meEdith, and the hope that this was all going to work out in the way thatit should. I decided to accept the universe’s latest offer.I looked at Edith, and smiled as broad and loving a smile as I could ather. I touched her arm, and said, “I do understand, and I don’t thinkit’s silly or crazy at all. I guess we both will just have to accepteach other for what we are.” Edith grinned, and patted me on the handin a motherly sort of way. We had formed a bond that day that wouldlast a very long time.It was getting late, so we hurried back to the store. We made a lot ofsmall talk on the way back, and Edith wanted to talk some more afterwork. I wanted that too. I wanted to get into my bra, and get somemake-up on, so she could see me that way too. I did, however, have tosee Paul at 2:15PM, so I told her that we would have to wait untilafter that before we made any plans. I still had no idea of what hewanted, or what would happen.Even with rushing as much as we could, Edith and I were a few minuteslate getting back from lunch. We were made aware of this by the starethat we got from Mr. Conlin, the Buyer, as we entered the office. Heexpressed his displeasure with anything through a look rather thanwords. He was one of the easiest people to get along with that I haveever met, so a look of displeasure was about as far as things usuallywent unless you did something really horrible.Mr. Conlin looked me over pretty well through that look of momentarydispleasure. He focused especially on my new hair style, and the bagthat I carried as a “purse” for the first time that day. His eyesgradually changed from the displeasure that was in them to becomefilled with what I judged to be approval of my appearance, and hismouth took on a wry smile. Mr. Conlin was not married, and for avariety of reasons, I had suspected that he might be secretly Gay. Theknowing nod that he gave me as he turned to go into his office told meboth that he was Gay, and that he did not disapprove of what I wasdoing. This made me feel a lot better about my position with him. Imight not like having a “male” job, but at least I knew that in he andEdith, I had friends of a sort there.The next hour or so went quickly enough, but I spent most of itwondering what would happen at my meeting with Paul. I was positivethat he knew who I was. I just did not know what, if anything, he wasgoing to do about it. I might not really like this job, but I did needit for now.The clock on the wall of the reception area of the Personnel Departmentshowed 2:15PM as I approached the door to Paul’s office. To say that Iwas nervous would have been a gross understatement. I think I knew thatsomeday my old life as a man would come into contact with my new lifeas a woman, but I did not think it would happen this soon. I knocked onthe door, and heard Paul call, “Come in!” from within.Paul’s office was rather plain. He sat behind a standard metal desk infront of which were two chairs. He motioned for me to sit in one ofthem. The only other furniture was a file cabinet, and an old sofa that I supposed was there in case he needed to hold a meeting in his office.I fantasized that it might have other uses too, and double as a sort of”casting couch” for any “special” interviews that he might do in hisjob as an Assistant Personnel Manager.Paul looked at me for a long minute, and then opened a file folder onhis desk saying, “I’ve been looking through your record with us, andit’s good. Oh, nothing out of the ordinary, but good anyway.” He leanedback in his chair, and looked me over again. Then he said, “I don’twant to see anything bad go into your record, but this company doeshave rules.” He shook his head, and started writing something on a pad.I shifted uneasily in my chair. What did he mean?”If you mean the long hair,” I blurted nervously, “I didn’t think itwould be a problem, but…”Paul put up his hand to interrupt me, and said, “No, it’s not yourhair.” He chuckled a bit, and continued. “I was referring to your,err… moonlighting?” He sat back again, and said, “I think youremember our little meeting last Saturday evening.”I swallowed hard. He had recognized me! A thousand thoughts racedthrough my head. There was obviously something more on his mind, or hewould have just put something in my file to make things difficult forme here. Then I realized that I had as much on him as he had on me.Paul was married. He even had a photograph of his wife on the desk. Thestory of how he had purchased a blow-job from a transvestite prostitutewas one that he would not want made public. There had to be somethingmore.Paul leaned forward, and spoke again. “You make a very pretty girl,err… Bobbi. Much too pretty in fact to be working as a stockboy. Youneed a friend. You need a friend who might be able to help you overthe, err… rough spots.”Paul stood, and walked over to the window. “Look at yourself!” he said.”Even now, in those clothes, you strike me as more of a girl than aboy.” He turned to face me from where he stood, saying, “You know, Ithought you looked familiar the other night, but I didn’t know whyuntil this morning. Please believe me when I say that I want to helpyou. I am your friend. I like you very much, and I want you to likeme.”I still was not sure what Paul was driving at, but I calmed down a bit.Having a “friend” like him could have its advantages, but I was surethat there was still more to this than just a simple friendship. I satup straight in as ladylike way as possible, and said sweetly, “I dolike you, Paul, and I’m sorry if you think I deceived you the otherevening. I need this job right now until I can figure out a way to livelike the woman that I am. I guess that I could use a friend like you.”I was baiting him a little, but it was not completely a lie. I wonderedwhat I would have to do to be the sort of “friend” he wanted.Paul crossed the room, and sat on the edge of the desk in front of me.”I have a friend,” he said, “who needs some models for a line of coats.Have you ever thought of modeling?” He leaned closer to me, andcontinued, “I could see that you get one of the jobs, part-time ofcourse, if you were my friend, and we wouldn’t even think of it asmoonlighting.” He touched my cheek with the side of his index finger,and leered at me.Paul ran his finger along my chin in a very provocative way. I wasgetting the idea of what he meant about our being friends. I lookedinto his eyes. There was no malice in them. He was living a fantasy,and I was it. He did not want to hurt me. All he really wanted out ofthis was a mistress for a little fun away from his wife, and he waswilling to help me in return. The offer of a real modeling job wastempting. I decided to play along.”What’s the deal?” I asked with my prettiest smile. Paul stood up, andexplained. “I enjoyed being with you on Saturday night. I thought thatmaybe, if I helped you, we could have some more, err… fun togetheronce in a while. The job offer is real. It’s yours if you want it. Arewe friends?”I stood to face him. I liked the idea of being a sort of “kept woman” alot. I put my arms around his neck, and kissed him. “We’re friends,” Iwhispered in his ear. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and wekissed again, and allowed our tongues to meet in the process. Paulcould kiss very well indeed! “Do you want me now?” I asked. “Yes!” heanswered with a quaver in his voice. Now it was his turn to be nervous.”Lock the door,” I said. “We don’t want any interruptions, do we?”Paul went to the door, and quietly locked it. I pulled my sweater overmy head, and slipped out of my jeans. When he turned around I wasstanding by the sofa in just my camisole and panties. His eyes got verybig when he looked at me. “We don’t have enough time for much more thanhappened on Saturday night, but we’ll have more time some evening laterthis week. Why don’t you sit down here where you’ll be morecomfortable?”Paul walked over, and kissed me again. Our tongues fenced for a momentas we tasted each other’s feelings. Then he sat on the sofa, and lookedup at me. “You really are a very beautiful woman in or out of yourclothes.” He was sincere in what he was saying. Paul did not, as Ifound out as time went on, consider himself Gay. He never thought ofany man as a sexual partner unless that man was wearing a dress. It wasa little lie that he told himself to keep his psyche together, and hismachismo intact. It hurt no one. If he wanted me to be all the woman Icould be for him, that was just fine with me. I rather liked the ideaof being his mistress.I dropped to my knees in front of him. My hands reached to the buckleof his belt, and unhooked it. Paul got a broad smile on his face. Hesettled back to leave me to do what I did best. It took but a minute,with little movement on his part, to have his trousers down around hisankles. I could see the outline of his hard cock straining against thefabric of his underpants. I gave a tug at the elastic waistband, and itwas there pointing straight at my face. I needed no further invitation.I opened my mouth wide, and took the length of the shaft almost to theback of my throat. My lips wrapped tightly around it, and I felt itswarmth on my tongue. Paul’s cock tasted good, and felt even better. Ihave given up counting the number of cocks that I have had in my mouth,but his was one of the best. I wanted to keep it in there for a longtime, but we did not have the luxury of that. All I could do then wasgive him a quick blow-job.Expertly I worked Paul’s cock in and out of my mouth. In his state ofexcitement at finally having found his mistress, he seemed ready to popwhen my tongue first touched the tip of his cock. I took a quick lookup to his face to see his head thrown back, and his eyes closed inecstasy. Just then I felt the semen slowly flowing out of him the wayit always did. It filled my mouth, and it took three swallows to get it all down inside of me. I let his cock fall from my mouth as I savoredthe last drop. We looked into each other’s eyes. We had both foundsomething that we wanted.I slid up onto the sofa next to Paul after giving him his blow-job. Heput his arm around me, and we kissed once again. This kiss had lesssexual fire and passion in it, but more true affection for each other.I never fell in love with Paul, nor he with me, but we did feel amutual affection all the time we were together. I needed that. I had awhole new life to build from the ground up, and any help I could getwas welcome. Paul would give me more help than I knew at that moment.I lingered in his arms for a little while, and then said softly, “Weshould get back to work.” Paul stretched a little, and nodded. He gotup quickly, and in another moment had pulled up his pants andunderpants, so that he was dressed again. He went to sit on the edge ofhis desk to watch me dress. Paul liked watching me dress and undress. Ithink that he got almost as much out of that as he did out of havingsex with me.It was a simple matter for me to get dressed, but I stretched it out asmuch as I could for Paul’s benefit. I posed a little in just mycamisole and panties for him before I started. He liked that. I do notknow what it was about my body that turned him on so much, but Paul’scock would get hard if he just thought about me stripping for him. Hiscock was hard again now from just looking at me, and I was not dressedvery attractively.I stepped into my jeans, and adjusted my penis back between my legsinto my crotch. Then I pulled my sweater over my head, and fluffed myhair back into place. Paul looked at me with a happy smile, and said,”Wait just a minute while I make a phone call.” He picked up thereceiver, and dialed an outside line.”Hello, Jack?” Paul said into the telephone. “I’ve got a girl foryou… Yes, she’s got the look that you wanted… Sure… No… No,this is the first time she’s ever modeled… Oh, about five foot six…Right! That’s what I told you… Any time you want her to start… Hername’s Bobbi… I’ll give her a note from me to you as an intro…No!… Okay… Next week?… All right… Yeah, see you Friday… Bye.”Paul hung up the telephone, and wrote something on a piece of paper. Hetore the sheet off the pad, and put it in an envelope, but did not sealit. He wrote a name, address, and telephone number on the envelopealong with a day, date, and time, and held it out to me.”The name on it,” Paul said as I took the envelope, “is my friend Jack.He’s the one who needs the models. Be at that address next Tuesday at11:00AM just like I wrote there, and give him the note. It’s an, err…introduction from me. Look good, and you’ve got the job.” I jumped up,and hugged him around the neck like an excited schoolgirl! This wouldbe my first real job as a woman! I was beside myself with elation! Ikissed Paul in gratitude. He could have asked me for absolutelyanything at that instant, and I would have given it to him.”Now, Bobbi,” Paul said very seriously as he held me back to try tocalm me down, “I’m taking a big chance with you. Jack thinks that youare all woman, and he’s used to working with models. He also does notknow that I like, err… girls like you. He’s expecting a woman, andnothing less. I wouldn’t send you to him if I didn’t think that youcould do the job. He wants to try this with some non-professionalmodels for a different look, so you don’t have to worry about notknowing how a model is supposed to act. Just act like a woman! Don’tlet me down!” I calmed down a lot as the reality of all of this surgedover me.This was not some Drag Show at “The Gilded G****” that I was going todo. This was a woman’s modeling assignment. They did not wantprofessional models. They thought that with just ordinary girls theywould get a fresh look, but they did want real women. I would have tolook and act my best. Who knows? Maybe there could be more modelingjobs from this one. That would suit me just fine. This would be thebiggest test yet. I had to pass it no matter what I had to do to do it.Paul was counting on me, and I was counting on me. The rest of my lifecould depend on this.”You should be getting back to your department,” Paul said as I calmeddown from the excitement of getting the modeling job. He was right. Itwas quarter past three, and I had been gone for over an hour. A thoughthit me, and I said, “Tuesday isn’t my day off. How can I get to themodeling interview?” Paul smiled, and said, “I told you that you neededa friend like me. I’ll call your Buyer, and get your day changed fornext week. I’ll also tell him that we were having a, err… jobenrichment conference, and I lost track of the time. That way you won’tget into any trouble. Okay?”I kissed Paul again as I left. Having a friend like him was worth it. Igave him my address and telephone number, so that he could get in touchwith me when he needed to. After all, a man had to have access to hismistress. I walked back to the c***dren’s Shoes Department on a cloud.I had found two friends that day who would be very important to me astime went on. What else could happen today?Back at the department, Edith was still interested in spending sometime together after work. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to tell mynew found mother about Paul, and the modeling job. I was not sure if I would tell her everything that Paul and I had done. After all, whatgirl would tell her mother that she had given the boss a blow-job?There were just some things that were not done. We decided to go for awalk, and do some shopping after work.Before I knew it, it was 5:00PM, and time to leave. Edith met me in thehallway, and we left together. She wanted to walk and shop, but Isuggested that we stop for a coffee first. I had something that Iwanted to do before we went any further. We slid into a booth in theCoffee Shop, and ordered coffee. I excused myself to go to the LadiesRoom.I stepped into a stall in the Ladies Room, and pulled off my sweater. Ifished in my bag for the bra that I had put in there this morning. Itook off my camisole, slipped my arms into the straps of the bluepadded bra, and hooked it behind me. It felt good. I had missed thatfeeling all day as I always did. There was just something about wearinga bra that made me feel really female. Men’s clothing just did not havethe same feel as women’s, and the feel of a bra with its cups, straps,and hooks was the most female of that feeling. I could never be a”Women’s Libber” in any way. I liked wearing a bra too much to burn it.I put my sweater back on over my bra, and stuffed my camisole down intomy bag. I took out some jewelry from my bag, and snapped a pendant on agold chain around my neck. I clipped a pair of matching earrings on mylobes. A couple of bangle bracelets on my wrists completed the look,and I was ready to face the world again, but this time as a little morewoman than before. This was a scene that I would play out in thisLadies Room many times in future. The people who ran the Coffee Shopjust thought that I liked unwinding with their coffee each night. Ifthey only knew why I really came in here.I left the stall, and went over to the sinks to do my make-up. Mymascara and eye-shadow went on quickly, and a little powder and blushbrought out the peaches and cream of my cheeks. The mouthy waitressfrom lunch came in, and hardly looked at me as she went to a stall topee. There was no question of my femininity. I was now a woman, andthat was that. I applied some pale red lipstick, and returned to Edith.”Wow!” Edith exclaimed when I got back to the booth. “You look great! Ithought that you looked good before, but now. Just look at you!” Ithanked her for all the compliments, and we paid our check and left. Wewalked up 5th Avenue, and looked in all of the shops. We got more thanour share of looks from the male passers-by, and the fact that theywere mostly looking at me was not lost on Edith. “You certainly turnmore than your share of heads!” she said after a few blocks. I justsmiled.We talked about a lot of things that day. I told her about Paul, andwhile I did not say exactly what happened, I think that she got theidea that he and I were more than just platonic friends. She readbetween the lines of what I was saying. Mothers are like that. Theyalways seem to know. Edith suggested that I be careful with what wasgoing on there. She did not want to see me get hurt, and I was gratefulfor that. I needed someone to care about me the way that she did.After about two hours of walking, Edith told me that she would like forme to meet her mother who still lived with her, but that it was alittle too soon tonight. The older woman was not able to do much forherself, so Edith had to do most of the things around the house. Shewould have to leave me soon to go home to get dinner for he mother. Iunderstood that. We would have many other times together in future. Weparted company until I would see her at work in the morning.I walked a bit on my own for a while after she left. I needed to thinkthings out. A lot had happened today, and it was just a bitoverwhelming. I had a new mother, a new boyfriend, and maybe a new job,and it was a job as a woman! Things were happening just the way that Iwanted them to. I said a silent prayer that they would continue to doso.I got home at about 8:30PM. Margo was not at home. She was probably at”The Gilded G****” turning tricks, and getting drunk. That is where sheusually was at this time of day if she was not at home. I toyed withthe idea of going out to see her, and telling her about all that hadgone on today, but decided not to. She would not listen very wellthrough the alcoholic haze that was probably forming around her by now,and I did not need the touch of gloom and doom that she always tingedhe words with to dampen my spirits tonight.I stripped off all my clothes, and put on my pink lace nightie. Iwanted to feel as feminine as I could tonight. I watched television fora while, and went to bed about 10:30PM. Visions of what would go onduring the next week pranced through my mind. Tomorrow was my firstrehearsal with the “G.G.Girls” chorus line, the next day I was going tocall Tina’s doctor about getting me some real breasts, on Friday Iwould be going to see the dancing teacher that Tina had recommended,and next Tuesday I had an interview as a model. It would be quite aweek. This had been quite a day.Sub-title: Boy Meets GirlThe next morning was a busy one for me. Mr. Conlin was at the showingof a new line of shoes with Mr. Steinman. That left just Edith and I inthe office and stockroom area with all the Sales Assistants out of theway on the sales floor. I had a few telephone calls to make, so Edithlet me use Mr. Conlin’s office where I could have some privacy. I wastoo nervous about the calls to use a telephone booth, and I could notmake them from home in the evening. The people I had to talk with wouldnot be there.I took the two business cards that Tina had given me out of my bag, andplaced them on the desk in front of me. They both represented big stepsin my life. The results of those two calls would tell me a lot aboutwhat was going to happen to me as a woman in future. One was a littlestep. That was the call to the dancing school about lessons. Maybe thatcould be a way to a career. I would like that, but it was too early topredict such things. The other was really a big step. That was the callto the doctor.I stared at the cards for a few minutes, and agonized over making thecalls. This was not something to be taken lightly. Up until nowbecoming a woman was still in the realm of fantasy. Most of my life tothat point had been spent as a boy. I had wanted to be a girl for anumber of years, but the actual fact of being a girl had been a part-time thing for only the last three of my eighteen years, and I had onlystarted living as a woman for two months!This meant that my life as a boy and my life as a girl had really beentwo separate entities. These telephone calls would start the process ofbringing my two lives together. Boy was about to meet girl inside ofme, and they were a little terrified at the prospect of the encounter.I took a deep breath, and reached for the receiver. I started to dialthe doctor’s number, but decided to call the dancing school firstinstead. I needed to ease into this. The school was less threatening.The telephone rang at least ten times before a deep voice that soundedvaguely female answered sharply, “Stage Door Dance Academy! This isToni.” It was the owner of the school who Tina had told me about.”Yes,” I said. “I wanted to ask about dancing lessons. A friend ofyours named Tina recommended that I speak to you.”Toni’s voice got a little softer, and said, “That’s a good start on areference. Are you a novice, or have you had some training?”I replied, “I’m a beginner. Tina wants me in her chorus line, so wethought that I could use some instruction. My name is Bobbi, and Iguess I should tell you that I am also a TV.”Toni chuckled at that, and said, “I figured that when you said you knewTina. That’s not a problem. Just come as a girl, and we’ll train youthe same way. I’ve got a class starting on Friday at 6:00PM. The classlasts two hours, and the fee is twenty dollars a class.”I agreed, so Toni took my name, and told me what I would need to bringwith me to the class. I already had all of it with what Tina had me buyas rehearsal clothes. Toni added, “The classes will be every Fridayevening after that except when we close for vacation. We’ll see youFriday, luv!” I said good-bye, and hung up the telephone. I had takenthe little step.With a little, but not much, more confidence, I picked up the telephoneagain, and prepared to take the big step. This time it rang only twicebefore a businesslike female voice answered, “Dr. Benjamin’s office.” Iwas breathing quickly, and my heart was pounding as I said, “I want tospeak to the doctor about…” I hesitated, and then said, “…sexchange surgery.”It was out now. I expected a little surprise from the voice on theother end of the line, but it was very matter of fact in saying, “Thedoctor is only accepting a limited number of new cases. I can give youa thirty minute consultation one week from Wednesday. It will costfifty dollars.” It all sounded very mechanical but I made theappointment, and hung up. I was on my way toward the goal that I hadset, but I was more than a little scared.I sat back in Mr. Conlin’s chair. The indifference of the doctor’sreceptionist was not what I had expected, nor was Toni’s quickacceptance of me. I guess I was falling into the trap of believing thatI was the only one in the world like me. A lot of transsexuals havethat problem. They think that their situations are unique, and miss alot of acceptance, support, and help because of it. There was a part ofthe world out there that was willing to accept me for who I was. I wasonly starting to get in touch with it.There was another business card in my bag bearing a number that I hadbeen meaning to call for quite a while. I decided to try it now, andsee what would happen. The telephone had barely rung when a voice said,”Shapiro and Tobin!” I put on my sexiest voice, and said, “Hello. IsPeter available?””Just a moment!” came a cheerful reply. I wondered if he would rememberme.I had met Peter on my first night in drag two months ago. We had dancedone dance at “The Gilded G****” that night, and he had given me hisbusiness card asking that I call him. The card showed that he worked ina law office, so I supposed that he was a lawyer.”Hello? This is Pete. May I help you?” said Peter’s voice after a fewseconds. “Peter,” I said as sexy as I could, “this is Bobbi. We met at’The Gilded G****’ a few weeks ago, and you asked me to call.” Therewas a short pause before he exclaimed, “Bobbi! I was wondering if youwere ever going to call me. I haven’t been into the bar, or I wouldhave looked for you there. When can I see you?”I got very excited by his reaction. I had only seen him for an hour orso that night, but I liked what I saw. He was young, and had a freshout of college look. I suppose that now we would have said that helooked like a “Yuppie”, but that term had not coined yet. I only knewthat he was very handsome, and that I really wanted to see him again.Peter wanted to see me that week, but things were already a littlechaotic for me. We made a tentative date for Saturday night, andexchanged home telephone numbers to be able to confirm the date laterin the week. We talked for a while, and I found out that he was workingas a Legal Clerk in his uncle’s law firm until he passed his bar exam.He had only gotten out of law school earlier that year. He was not alawyer yet, but he was going to be one.After the talk, I said good-bye to Peter, and sat back in the chairagain. My new life as a woman was taking shape in an interesting way.Three months before I was an ungainly teenage boy sneaking time todress as a girl in my mother’s clothes. Now I was living almostfulltime as a woman with a good prospect of making that more real inthe future. I had also become a sort of “kept woman”, almost a chorusgirl, and maybe a model, and had acquired a new “mother”, some friendswho accepted me as the woman that I was, and perhaps in Peter, aboyfriend along the way. My lifestyle had changed quite a bit to saythe least. I liked where it seemed to be going.My break was over, so I collected my things into my bag, and went tothe outer office. Edith was out there at her typewriter, and she lookedup as I came out of Mr. Conlin’s office. She sat back, and said. “Well?How did it go?””Well enough,” I answered. “I’ll tell you all about it at lunch.” Shenodded, and went back to typing as I returned to the stockroom.I ran into Dave out there, and said “hello” to him. He looked at me fora moment, and then said, “Could we talk a little later? We used to talka lot, and I feel bad that we stopped. I just need to understand a fewthings.””Sure,” I answered. “We can talk on break this afternoon.” He nodded,and went back to the sales floor. Maybe he did want to be friendlyagain. I would find out this afternoon.Lunch with Edith that day was a flutter of girlish chatter. I told herall about the rehearsal of “The G.G.Girls” chorus line that I was goingto in the evening, and how I was signing up for dancing lessons. Editheven asked if she could come to one of the shows sometime, and watchme. I was a little surprised that she would want to do that. I guess Ithought that what went on at “The Gilded G****” was something thatthose in the “outside world” would not want to get involved in. I toldher that I did not think that it would be a problem, and we would do itonce I got settled into the show.I then told her about Paul, and how I had called Peter. I told her allabout them except for the details of the sexual parts. A girl does nottell her “mother” everything right away. Just her knowing that I hadtwo boyfriends was enough for now, and I was sure that she surmised theother things. Edith was no prude in any way.Edith was a bit uneasy when I told her about the doctor. She looked atme deeply, and said, “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. Ithink of you in the way I would think of my daughter. That emotion isvery real to me. If you must go through with this, let me be with you.”I knew, of course, how Edith felt about me, but I had not expected anyemotion of this strength. I touched her arm, and said, “I would likethat. I think I’m going to need someone to lean on sometimes.””I’m here whenever you need me,” she said. I really did have a motherin her. and in future, I would need one!Later that afternoon I was sitting in the work area at the back of thestockroom. This was where we fixed things, and stored a few simpletools. I was usually the only one who went back there. It had an oldwooden desk that we used for a workbench, and a beat up office chair. Iguess it was the closest thing that I had to an office of my own. Isometimes took my breaks back there if I wanted to just be alone, andthink. I would have liked to have done that today. I had a lot on mymind from the telephone calls that I made that morning. I was about,however, to have a visitor.I heard Dave’s footsteps on the linoleum covered concrete floor as heapproached. He had asked for this talk, so I had no idea of what hewanted. He stepped into the work area bearing a small white bag. Hegreeted me, and placed the bag on the desk saying, “I felt like a soda,so I went to the cafeteria to get some. I brought one for you too.” Ithink he meant it as a sort of peace offering. Dave thought along thoselines. Whatever he had to say, he was showing that he was still myfriend.We each took a sip of soda, and Dave said, “I have been doing a lot ofthinking, and I need to ask you three questions. Please just answer’yes’ or ‘no’ for now, and leave any discussion for later.” I agreed,and Dave said, “Are you Gay?””Yes,” I answered. Dave nodded, and said, “Are you a transvestite?””Yes,” I answered. Dave paused, and at last asked, “Do you want to be atranssexual?””Yes!” I answered!Dave sat back on a pile of boxes, and spoke softly, but directlysaying, “Bob…””Call me ‘Bobbi’ as long as you know, please?” I interrupted.Dave adjusted himself, and said, “Bobbi, I want you to know that Iunderstand more about this than you know. I know that what you aregoing to do will not be easy, but your doing it gives me a problem. Allthe others here have noticed the change in you. They whisper that youare ‘queer’, and I cannot have that association with me. No matter whatI may feel along those lines, I have a need to appear straight in allways. I like you very much in ways that you may never know, but we justcannot appear to be friends here. Please do not say anything now. If wemeet outside of work in a social situation, we may talk, but not here.”Dave stood, and walked over to me. He bent to kiss me on the cheek, andsaid, “Good-bye, Bobbi.” Then he left. I sipped at my soda, and triedto understand what had just happened.Dave and I had talked about homosexuality in the context of his studiesof philosophy many times. It was all very intellectual. I had neversuspected him of being Gay himself, and yet it certainly seemed likethat was what he was trying to tell me. If he was Gay, he was tryingdesperately to hide it from anyone. He could not associate with mewithout throwing suspicion on himself. He even seemed that he wastrying to say that he was sexually attracted to me. Why else would hekiss me the way that he did? I would, if only out of friendship,respect his wishes, but I wanted to talk more to him. He had given me alot more to think about.I went directly home after work. I was very excited about going to myfirst rehearsal of “The G.G.Girls” chorus line, and I wanted to getready. This was going to be fun. I was looking forward to seeing Tina,so I could tell her that I had signed up for the dancing lessons as shehad suggested. Margo was not at home. She was still at work, but I knewI would see her later. She went to “The Gilded G****” almost everynight.It only took me a few minutes to remove my camisole, and put on my bra.I was going to just go in my jeans, but this was going to be a sort ofspecial occasion. I also changed from my jeans, sweater, and loafersinto a skirt, blouse, and heels. I wanted to look my best tonight, andI did not know whom I might meet after rehearsal.I was very excited about all this. I picked up my purse, and slung thecanvas bag that carried my rehearsal clothes on my shoulder. In a fewminutes I was on the street walking the few blocks to “The GildedG****” on my way to becoming a chorus girl.As I walked up the street I noticed two men walking toward me. Theywere nicely dressed, and I saw that they were looking me over as theyapproached. I slipped a little wiggle and sway into the motion of myhips as I walked, and one responded with a very appreciative smile aswe passed. I walked on, but I heard them stop, and turn to watch me asI walked away. I always enjoy when little things like that happen. Theyhad seen me as a desirable and sexy woman. That is exactly what Iwanted to be. They were paying me a compliment in a way that they wouldnever realize. I felt very good deep inside.It was quiet in “The Gilded G****” when I entered. It would get moreactive later. Even on Tuesday nights things happened here, but thisearly in the evening very little was going on. I took a seat at thefront bar, and ordered a coke from Edie, the barmaid. I did not want todrink tonight.I noticed that the back section of the club was closed off. That waswhere the stage was, and where Emma tended the back bar. Emma was offon Tuesdays, and I guessed that the back was closed so we couldrehearse. I sipped at my soda, and waited for Tina to arrive.Another drag queen sat on the stool next to me. “Hi!” she said. “Myname is Billie, and you’re Bobbi, right?” I said “yes”, and shecontinued talking without stopping. “Tina said to look for you. She’sgonna’ be a little late. She’s seeing Gerry, the owner, about some setsand costumes, so she’s gonna’ be a little late. She told me to take youback, and introduce you to the rest of the girls, and see that you geta place to change, and all. We don’t have to do that yet, so finishyour drink, and relax. We got an hour or so before rehearsal starts, sowe can sit here and relax and talk for a while. Tina says you’re gonna’be on the right end of the kick line next to me, so we’re gonna’ besort of partners. You ever done this before?”I had to laugh a little at Billie. I had seen her around here a numberof times. She was a relief barmaid for Edie’s and Emma’s days off, andshe sometimes helped out when things got busy on other nights. Shealways appeared to be in a thither about something, and talked veryfast all the time. We had spoken briefly a couple of times, but it hadbeen just a little small talk. Even so, I knew that I liked her, andthat she would make a pleasant friend.”No,” I answered, “I’ve never danced like this before, but I justsigned up for lessons.” Billie nodded. “From Toni at the ‘Stage Door’I’ll bet!” she said, and sipped at her drink. I wondered how she knewthat, but before I could ask, another girl appeared, and startedtalking to her.Billie spoke with the other girl for a minute, and then turned back tome saying, “Bobbi, this is Patty. She dances at the other end of thekick line from us. She’s a real nice sort of person, so you just gotta’like her. She just started with us three months ago, so she’s almostnew just like you, and maybe that’s another reason why you just gotta’like her.”Patty was about 5’4” tall, and of slim build with shoulder length,straight black hair. The only detraction from her appearance was a sortof hook to her nose, but she was going to get a nose job as soon as shecould to correct that. I found out as time went on that she hadaspirations of being a model, and was also another one of Tina’slovers. She was seeing the same doctor that I was about to regardingmaking her change to female complete. Patty and I had much in commonthen, and in the future.Billie hopped off her stool. “We should go back, and get going,” shesaid. “We’ve gotta’ find you a locker, and the others will be heresoon, and so will Tina. She doesn’t like it when we get started late.She’s tough about that, but we like her anyway. Right, Patty?” Pattynodded agreement, and we headed for the back.Billie led the way into the Ladies Room, and through another door intothe dressing room. “The Gilded G****” had a dressing room at the backof both the Ladies Room and the Men’s Room. They were little more thanlocker rooms, but they had a make-up table with a bench and a mirrorsurrounded with lights along one wall opposite the lockers. Bothdressing rooms had another door that led into a corridor off of whichwere the entrances to the backstage area, the office, and back into thebar area. There was also a back door to the street with the sign “StageDoor” over it. This let us move between the stage and the dressingrooms unseen, and we used the corridor to wait between acts. It was anice layout.There were two girls already in the dressing room in the process ofchanging. Patty and Billie greeted them, and Billie continued theintroductions saying, “Girls, this is Bobbi! She’s the new one thatTina told us was joining us. She’s just starting at this, so we’regonna’ have to teach her how we work, but she’s okay. Bobbi, this isJanet, and this is Carmen. Get to know each other while I find you alocker. I’ll be back in a minute.” We exchanged greetings andpleasantries while Billie went to the Office to get me a locker key,and Patty started to change.Carmen was Spanish, with dark eyes and long straight black hair. Shelived with Jose’, one of the bouncers, as his “wife” although he wasnot the most faithful “husband” that I had ever known. The relationshipseemed to please her though.Janet had brown eyes, and short, fluffy, light brown hair. She wantedto be a singer, and did the singing parts in any of our skits. She alsoplayed the guitar quite well. She was a lot of fun to be around, and Iwound up liking her very much.”Here, Bobbi,” said Billie handing me a couple of keys on a ring withthe bar name on the fob. “The little one is your locker key to number207 over there, so you can lock your stuff up while we’re working, soit stays safe from sticky fingers. The other key fits both doors to this dressing room, so you can get in and out. Tuck them in yourcostume when we work. You’ll find a place to hold them, and now getchanged, so we can start.”Just then another girl came in. She had blue eyes, and wavy dark brownhair. Billie introduced her as Star. She was the last member of the”G.G.Girls” to arrive. Star was beautiful, and was already doing somemodeling. She even posed on a regular basis for the Drag Queen pornomagazines that were sold in Adult Bookstores. I had some of those, andrecognized her right away. I wondered what it would be like to posenude that way. I would have to ask Star about it. Maybe I could do thattoo.I found my locker right away, and opened it. Inside was a pile of oldnewspapers, a couple of fashion magazines, some hairpins, an oldlipstick, and a pink sweater with imitation pearls embroidered to it.”That stuff is all yours now if you want it,” came a voice from behindme. I turned to see Tina standing there. “That locker used to beCarla’s,” she said. “She left us a few months ago to move to Chicagowith her lover. You can toss most of it in the garbage, but the sweatershould fit you.””Thanks,” I replied. “Are there any more hangers around?” Tina told meto look in the closet, and I found a few there.”Ok, ladies,” Tina announced when I returned with the hangers, “it’sshow time!” The others all gathered on the changing benches facing me.Tina sat down with them, and said, “Its your turn on stage, Bobbi. Youhave to get used to people looking at you, and we all want to get toknow you better. We have a little initiation for all the new girls tosort of break the ice. You have to do a striptease for us the firsttime you change. Let’s go, girl! Show us what you got!”I was surprised at this, but it also excited me. I had come hereexpecting to be a chorus girl, but now I would also have to be astripper even if the audience was a small one of fellow drag queens.The “G.G.Girls” looked at me with anticipation in their eyes, but Tinahad an especially lewd glint in hers. She was obviously looking forwardto watching me strip. “Don’t forget, Bobbi,” Tina said with a leer onher lips. “We want to see it ALL! You aren’t finished until you arecompletely naked!”This was definitely not what I had expected would happen tonight, but Iwas also turned on by it. If a striptease was what they wanted, then astriptease was what they were going to get! I faced all their eyes, andthought for a moment about my first move when I heard Janet call out,”Carmen! Put the tape on! She needs some music!” There was the metallicclicking noises of a tape recorder being loaded and turned on, and thenthe room filled with the earthy sounds of brass and drums. I took asecond to catch the beat. Then my hips began to move, and my firststriptease was on!I had seen a striptease show a couple of times, so I tried to think ofwhat those girls did, and do as much of that as I could. I hoped thatmy audience would like it. I did not take anything off during the firstsong, but danced as provocatively as possible lifting my skirt now andthen to flash the white flesh of my thighs above my stocking tops atthe group, stroking the contours of my breasts and hips seductively,and unbuttoning my blouse to show a little more flesh in preparationfor the rest of my striptease. I finished with a flourish of my hands,arms, and legs, and waited frozen in that pose for the next song.The bass throb of the music began again a few seconds later, but thisnumber was slow and sensual. I was equal to it, and slowly slipped myblouse off my shoulders. Then quickly turned around, so all they couldsee was it descending slowly to unveil my back to their view. I slid myarms out of the blouse, and tossed it aside to the first shouts of”Take it off!” from my audience.As soon as the blouse hit the bench, my hands reached behind me to thezipper at the back of my skirt. I pulled the zipper down very slowly,and undid the button at the waist band. I started to slip my skirt offas I bent my knees to wiggle my way down into a crouch as I moved it tomy ankles. As the music died, I stood, and turned to face the rest ofthe “G.G.Girls” now clad in just my bra, panties, garter-belt,stockings, and shoes.All eyes were fixed upon me. I enjoyed what I saw in those eyes verymuch. I was the center of attention, and I liked that. I would come toenjoy it even more in the future.Using the next break in the music as a foil, I reached over to pull oneof the changing benches to me. As the sound of the song “Let MeEntertain You” came up, I sat on the bench, and used it as a prop for anumber of rather lewd maneuvers that I was sure would bring my audienceto the edge of their seats. This striptease initiation into the”G.G.Girls” was getting me sexually excited too, and I felt my ownpenis harden in its tuck back between my legs in my crotch. I wonderedif the others were in the same condition, but I had other things to do.I swung my legs over the edge of the bench, and sat up to remove mystockings. I slipped my foot daintily out of my right shoe, and made alittle production out of unsnapping the garters that held up my rightstocking. I leaned back a little, and did a leg-flash kick as I slid itdown. I caught it on my toes, and played with it there before I let itpop off only to drop the stocking into my crotch to be withdrawn veryslowly to further tantalize and titillate my audience. I then tossed itaside, and put my right shoe back on.I first popped the garters on my left stocking before I stepped out ofthat shoe. This time I lay on my back on the bench to do the leg-flashkick to take it off. Again I hooked it on my toes for a moment beforeletting it snap back to my waiting hands. I formed the stocking intothree folds between my fingers, and let the folds hang down with themiddle one longer than the other two. Pretending that the folds were acock and balls, I held them over my face, and lowered them to where Icould flick at the erzats “cock” with my tongue before tossing thestocking aside to stand to remove my garter-belt just before the musicfor that number ended.That left me standing there in just my bra and panties. I glanced at myaudience, and saw them wide-eyed, and staring at me. They were cheeringand applauding, spicing that with occasional calls of “Take it off!” or”Take it all off!” My heart was pounding from the exertions of thedance, but also from the excitement of the moment. Every nerve of mybody was set up on end reaching for more and more of the thrills that Iwas feeling. If this could happen in front of a smell backstageaudience of drag queens, what would it be like with a proper stripteasecostume, on a real runway, in front of a full audience? That wassomething that I would have to find out!The pounding beat of the drums, and the wail of the brass once againfilled the room. My shoulders and hips moved with the flow of soundalmost involuntarily. I reached behind me, and unhooked my bra. I didnot let it fall to the floor, but held it in front of me as I slid thestraps off my shoulders, and took my arms out. I danced that way for amoment flashing little peeks at my nipples to the audience, and then Itossed it aside. My hands went right to the elastic waistband of mypanties, for the song was almost done. How I got them off withoutdislodging my now hard penis from its tuck back between my legs in mycrotch I shall never know, but as the music ended, I stood nude, exceptfor the shoes and jewelry I still wore, before the “G.G.Girls”.I posed in the nude for a moment after the music stopped to catch mybreath, and let the girls have a good look at me, but Carmen calledout, “You’re no finish yet! There’s another song!” I had come this far,so there was no turning back now. The strains of the music came up onceagain, and I was dancing in the nude for their pleasure. This time mypenis did not cooperate very well, and popped free of its tuck to waveabout in front of me. My audience loved it! There were cheers andapplause. They thought that it was the climax of my act, and reactedwith enthusiasm. In a couple of minutes the tape ended, and I stoodnaked and panting while they applauded wildly.While the “G.G.Girls” applauded, Tina rose, and walked over to me. Sheput her hands on my shoulders, and kissed me on the cheek saying,”Welcome to the ‘G.G.Girls’, Bobbi.” She did not have to say more.I had made it through the initiation, and was now one of them. It wasan association well worth having, and I have maintained some of thefriendships to this very day. Most drag queens do not occupy very highrungs on the social structure ladder of our society. Most of thesegirls were different, and they were all worth knowing for some reasonor other.Tina turned to the group with her arm around my shoulders, and said,”Well, what do you all think, ladies? Is she good enough to be one ofus?” Another round of applause rippled through the room, and they allstood to finish it as a standing ovation. The “G.G.Girls” then allcrowded around me to give hugs and kisses of welcome. My penis wasstill hard, and I had not gotten to tucking it back between my legsyet. A couple of the girls joked about that.Suddenly I felt someone in the crowd touch my penis, and caress itlightly with their fingers. I traced the arm that those fingers wereattached to, and saw Patty smiling at me. Not being sure of what elseto do when someone fondles my penis, I smiled back at her. Sheresponded with a flash of her eyes, and by running just the tip of hertongue over her lips as if to lick them in anticipation. None of theothers saw this, and she finished by blowing me a tiny kiss before shewalked away to finish changing. If that was a proposition as a preludeto sex, I wish she could have done the rest of it then and there. Itwould help me to get rid of this hardon. As it was, I had a difficulttime getting it back into its tuck, but we had a rehearsal to do. Tinawould not let us forget that.”All right, ladies!” Tina said in a loud voice. “Let’s get changed, andon stage! We have a lot of work to do, so playtime’s over for now!” Weall went back to changing. I gathered up the clothes I had just removedin my striptease, and hung them in my locker. Then I dressed quickly inmy tights, leotard, and dancing shoes. I had just a moment left tofreshen my make-up, and fluff my hair back into place before Tina wasstanding at the door to the stage clapping her hands to hurry us out.We gathered in a mob on the darkened stage. There was the sound of alarge electrical switch closing, and the stage lights came up. Tina wasstanding at the front of the stage facing us with a dancer’s timingstick in her hands. “Let’s try a kick line to warm up, shall we?” Tinacalled out. “From my right, I want the order to go Patty, Carmen, Star,Janet, Billie, and Bobbi! Let’s go, ladies! We have work to do!” Tinawas barking orders like a drill sergeant. She always worked with usthat way. She was tough, but the shows were all the better for it.Some lively music played in the stage area, and the “G.G.Girls” allformed up to link arms for balance in the kick line. Tina beat timewith her stick, and looked sternly at us. “Come on, ladies!” sheordered. “Get those legs up! Higher! Get them up like you do for yourboyfriends!” Tina tapped my thigh with her stick. “Stretch thosehamstrings, Bobbi! Higher!”I was having trouble kicking as high at the others. Tina tried justurging me, but I was new at this even though I had been doing somestretching exercises at home using the back of the sofa as a dancer’sbar. Finally, in desperation, she joined the kick line on my right.That helped a lot. With Tina on my right, and Billie on my left, Icould get the leverage and balance that I needed. When Tina saw that itwas working, she called a break, and put Billie at the end of the kickline with me between Billie and Janet. I had found my place among the”G.G.Girls”.We rehearsed for three hours, but spent most of the time working on thekick line. We were not doing any skits that week, so the only otherthing we had to practice was being background decoration for one ofJanet’s musical numbers. There was not much to that, but Tina worked usat it for about an hour. We were all quite tired when she finallycalled for the rehearsal to end at 10:00PM.The “G.G.Girls” gathered back in the dressing room. Nobody spoke verymuch. We were all too tired from our three hour workout. My leg musclesached like they never had before. As a c***d, I had done all the normalrunning and jumping that everyone did, but I had not been anythingapproaching athletic since I was about eleven years old. Dancing maylook easy, but anyone who does not see a dancer as an athlete does nothave any understanding of what it is all about. The only consolation tomy aching legs was that all the exercise would help keep my figure intrim. That was something anyway.The dressing rooms had a little shower room each, and after thatworkout, we all needed a shower. The shower room had only two showerheads, so we could only use it two at a time. “You gotta’ wait for yourturn, Bobbi,” Billie said pointing to the shower room door. “We use itin seniority order, so that means that you and Patty gotta’ go lastbecause you’ve been here the least time.” That was all right with me aslong as I got in there eventually. Billie and Carmen went in first, soI guessed that Janet and Star would follow just before Patty and I. Istripped off my leotard and other things, wrapped a towel around me,and sat down to wait.Something struck my mind as I sat there. At the end of my littlestriptease, it was Patty who had been stroking my penis, and had blownme a covert kiss. In a few minutes we would be alone and nude in theprivacy of the shower room. Would she do it again? Would she want to domore? I heard the door out to the Ladies Room open, and looked up tosee Patty coming back from the toilet wrapped in a towel the same way Iwas. She smiled, and came over to sit beside me.”Would you like a cigarette?” Patty asked as she sat down, and took oneout for herself.”I don’t smoke,” I answered politely.Patty lit hers, and took a long puff. “Good idea,” she said. “I starteda long time ago when I was thirteen. It’s a nasty habit. You live withMargo, don’t you?” I said that I did, and Patty continued. “I likeMargo. She can be a little difficult when she’s had too much to drink,but that’s all right. Do you two have any problems about that?”This seemed like a rather personal line of questioning on Patty’s part,but I suspected that she had something in mind behind it. I decided tosee if my suspicion was correct.”No, it’s not a problem,” I answered. “We’re just roommates, and notlovers, after all.” I added a little girlish giggle to this to softenthe statement. Patty’s eyes flashed when I said that Margo and I werenot lovers. I was right. She was trying to see if I had any romanticattachments. That was fine. I wondered how far she would go with thatinformation. “Then I guess it works out as long as she doesn’t get inyour way at home,” Patty said with a laugh.Billie and Carmen came out of the shower, and the next shift went in.”They shouldn’t be long,” said Patty. “They hate each other, sothere’ll be no chatting to slow things up.””Oh?” I said. “I thought you all got along?”Patty grinned and laughed. “No,” she said. “We might work together, butthat doesn’t mean we’re all friends. Those two both think that therebetter than each other. Janet is okay, but Star is the worst. Justbecause there’re pictures of her wiggling her naked ass all over 42ndStreet, she thinks she’s special. That’s why she calls herself ‘Star’, you know. Her real name’s Francis.” Patty was positively catty with hercomments. The world of the “G.G.Girls” was deeper than I thought.Billie and Carmen were almost finished dressing when Janet and Starcame out of the shower. I got up to get ready to go in, and Billiecalled out, “I’m gonna’ have a drink before I go home, Bobbi. Meet meat the front bar if you wanna’ talk some more. Tina’ll be there too ifI know her.””Thanks!” I called back to her. “I’ll see you out there. I would like adrink.” I picked up a couple of extra towels on the way in, and Pattywas right behind me doing the same thing.Inside the shower room I heard Patty lock the door behind us. I turnedto see what she was up to, and she said, “The others will all be gonein a few minutes, and room’ll be empty. We don’t need the janitorpopping in on our shower.” That seemed logical enough, so I let it go.I still thought she had something else on her mind.The spray of the shower felt good as it cascaded over my achingmuscles. I let it just run over me. I was just reaching for the soapwhen I felt someone soaping up my back. I looked around to see Pattystanding there. She gave me a sly smile, and said, “Why should we wastewater? You got me going with that striptease you did. What do you saywe finish the job for each other?”Before I could answer, Patty slipped an arm around my waist, took holdof my penis with her other hand, and kissed me deeply. I did not haveto answer. I reached down, and touched Patty’s small penis. That wasall the answer either of us needed.We broke the kiss, and looked at each other. I think we both saw theother in the way that I saw Patty at that moment. Biologically we mightnot have been female, but that was the way we presented ourselves. Wewere just two sexually aroused women who needed some release. We bothwould have preferred to have that release with a man, but there were nomen available at that moment. We could find some solace in each other’sarms.We were not Lesbian Drag Queens who dressed as women, and looked forsexual satisfaction from other transvestites. We were more simply likebisexual women who understood that there were sexual pleasures thatcould be had in a variety of ways if we did not limit ourselves, andcut ourselves off from any segment of the human race. I learnedsomething about myself in that moment, and have kept the knowledge allmy life.Patty and I said nothing from then on, but we attended to washing eachother first. It felt good to have her soaping me all over, and Ireturned the favor to her obvious pleasure. We worked slowly, payingspecial playful attention to each other’s penises and breasts. Pattyhad just started with hormone treatments, and so had slightly biggerbreasts than I. I enjoyed toying with them, and she worked on mine withas much gusto too.At last we were finished washing, and stood in the spray to rinse.Patty took the lead, and began teasing my nipples with her tongue. Shecontinued by trailing little kisses all down my body as she crouched infront of me. She rolled my penis and balls between her hands when shewas all the way down, and then took my penis in her mouth to suck ithard. Patty gave good head. She tickled at my balls with her fingerswhile she sucked. I was beyond myself with excitement, and it took onlymoments for me to deliver a load of hot sticky cum into her eagermouth.Patty stood, and I knew that it was my turn. My knees were weak, so Iwelcomed the chance to kneel in front of her to rest them. I did notwaste time at her breasts, but took her penis directly into my mouth. Istopped sucking on the shaft only long enough for a taste of her ballson my tongue. I always like doing that, but I returned to her penis ina few seconds. I started a rhythmic in and out motion, and felt herpenis grow, and get warm in my mouth. Then my mouth filled with the hotspurts of Patty’s cum. I swallowed it all as she had done with mine. Weboth had gotten our release.Patty and I stood for many minutes in each other’s arms in the spray ofthe shower. It was not the sort of sexual hug that I got from my malelovers, but exactly the way I had always imagined that two girlfriendswould hug after giving each other a needed sexual release. That is whatwe became then too. We were very much alike in a number of ways. Iliked Patty very much. It was a friendship that would continue far intothe future.After a time Patty said, “Well, we should get dressed, and go outsidebefore Billie starts wondering about us. She’s sweet, but she can be areal busybody at times.” I agreed, and turned off the shower, so wecould towel off. We helped each other with that too. We were enjoyingour new found friendship very much, and played with each other throughthe towels all the way through it.Outside in the dressing room we dressed quickly. I stuffed the pinksweater that I had found in the locker into my canvas bag. It needed tobe cleaned before I wore it. Soon we were ready to go back to the restof the world. I turned out the lights in the dressing room, and went tothe bar.Billie was standing by the waitress station at the bar as weapproached. She looked over at Tina who was at a table with Janet. Tinanodded at Billie, and Billie turned to us to ask, “What do you want todrink? Tina’s buying in honor of our new member.” I was feeling likesomething stronger than my usual white wine, so I said, “I’ll have avodka and tonic if that’s all right?” Patty ordered a scotch and soda.Tina nodded agreement, and Billie ordered the drinks from Edie thebarmaid.Tina called for us to join her at the table, so Patty and I walkedover, and sat down. Tina looked us both over carefully, and at lastsaid, “You two like long showers. I almost sent Billie back there tosee if you were all right.” The knowing look from Tina that followedtold me that she had a pretty good idea of what had been going on inthe shower room.Billie arrived at the table with a tray full of drinks, and passed themout. She put the tray on another table, and sat down with us. Tinaraised her drink, and said, “To our new member! May she dance her wayto stardom!” The “G.G.Girls” all raised their glasses, and drank atoast to my joining them. I liked being there too.We sat, and talked for about an hour before we all found reasons to gethome. “Don’t forget the show on Saturday night!” admonished Tina. “Iwant you all here by six, so we can do a backstage run through incostume before the nine o’clock show. Don’t be late!” I promised that Iwould not be late. Wild horses could not have kept me away!Tina left first, and Patty pushed a bar napkin toward me. “That’s myaddress and phone number,” she said. “If we’re going to be friends, youshould know where to find me other than here.” I took the napkin, andhurriedly scribbled my own information on another napkin for her.”Yes,” I answered. “That’s a good idea. Maybe we could go shopping, orsomething”I left “The Gilded G****” to go home. Margo was sitting on the sofawatching television when I got there. She was even sober. “I decided tostay home tonight,” she said. “How did it go?” All I could say was,”Great! I had a wonderful time, but I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Margosaid “good night” to me, and I went to my bedroom. I lay in bedthinking about my day before I slid into an exhausted sleep. It hadbeen quite a day.Sub-title: One, Two, Three, Kick!The rest of that week passed in an ordinary manner. There was only theusual routine of work, and lunch with Edith. We were becoming veryclose, and I liked that. She was true to her word in acting verymotherly toward me. Edith wanted to know all that was happening to me,and all that I was feeling. I was happy to tell her all about it too.It felt good to have someone like her to confide in. Margo was allright as a roommate, but there were just some things that I did notlike to talk with her about. She was a little too cynical about people.They had failed her too many times.Edith wanted me to come over to her home for dinner one evening. Shelived out in Queens, and had her mother, Sarah, living with her. Iwanted to do that too. Since my family had written me off, I missedthat sort of contact. Edith and her mother could provide that missingpart of my life, and they were more than willing to do it.Edith said that she would just introduce me to her mother as agirlfriend from work. Sarah was 84 years old, and it was not worthmaking a long explanation to her about me. I agreed with that. I wantedeveryone to think of me as the woman that I am anyway, so there was noneed to complicate things for Sarah. Things were going to be a littlehectic for me that week, so we put it off for now.The next big step in my life was my first dancing class with Toni atthe “Stage Door Dance Academy” on Friday evening. After the session atthe rehearsal of the “G.G.Girls” chorus line, I wondered if I was up toit. My legs hurt right after the rehearsal, but that was nothingcompared with the way they felt the next day! I could barely get out ofbed on Wednesday morning. I was just not used to that much exercise,but I knew that was the only way to get what I wanted out of this. Isteeled myself to what was ahead.Tina said that I should work at the dance exercises as much as I coulduntil my muscles loosened up enough. It was not easy, but I did mybest. I worked out in the living room of the apartment every night thatweek using the back of the sofa or a kitchen chair for a dancer’s bar.Margo was playfully annoyed at this, but generally supportive. For allthe problems that we had, we were very much like sisters through it.The telephone rang at about 8:00PM on Wednesday night. I had just gothome after shopping with Edith, and was getting ready to do my danceexercises. It was Peter. After a few pleasantries, he asked, “What areyou doing on Saturday night? Could we have dinner?” He wanted to takeme out on a real date!No man had ever asked me out before, and I was thrilled. It was with alot of sadness that I had to tell him, “We have a show at ‘The GildedG****’ on Saturday, and I’m in the chorus line. I can have a drink withyou between the shows, but I won’t be free until about midnight.””That’s all right,” Peter responded. “I’d like to see the show, and ifyou’re in it, that’s so much the better, doll! Maybe I could take youhome afterward.”I liked the interest he was showing in me. I did, however, wonder if hehad anything in mind for when he got me home after the show. It was notthat I did not want him to get me into bed. I did want him to get meinto bed, but I was sort of hoping that we could get at least one datein first.”That would be nice,” I told Peter. “A girl can always use an escort onthese streets at night.” He chuckled, and said, “Than it’s a date! I’llsee you at ‘The Gilded G****’ on Saturday night. Bye for now, doll!” Isaid “good-bye” too, and hung up. I was already looking forward toseeing him again. He was cute enough to daydream over while Iexercised.The only other incident of sorts took place on Thursday morning. I wasputting away some stock at work when Edith came out into the stockroomto get me. “There’s a call for you in the office,” she said. “It’s Paulfrom Personnel.” Edith and I exchanged knowing glances. She knew fromour lunchtime talks that Paul and I were seeing each other. I hadplanned not to tell her, but it was just too good a piece of gossip tohold back.I entered the office, and Edith pointed to the telephone on the sparedesk. Mr. Steinman, the Assistant Buyer, was in the office, so I had tobe careful of what I said. I picked up the receiver, pushed the buttonthat was flashing, and said, “Hello?””Hello, Bobbi?” said Paul. “Yes,” I answered.”Listen,” he went on, “I know that you can’t, err… talk there in theoffice, so just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. All right?””Okay,” I answered. “I know that we had planned to, err… get togetherthis week, but I, err… can’t make it. My wife is in one of her,err… moods, and I can’t get away. You do understand, don’t you?””Sure,” I answered in a sympathetic tone.”That’s good,” said Paul with a little sigh of relief in his voice.”We’re still, err… friends, right?””Yes,” I answered. “You’re still going to, err… see me from time totime, right?””Yes,” I answered.”Oh, yeah!” he said remembering something else. “You have anappointment with my, err… buddy Jack at two o’clock on Tuesday aboutthat modeling job, so I, err… set it up with your Buyer that you can,err… leave at noon, and take the rest of the day off. We put it downas a half of one of your, err… personal days, so you still get paidfor it. All right?””Yes!” I answered excitedly.”Okay, cutie!” Paul said. “We both have to get back to work. Err.. tellanyone who asks that I was just giving you the, err… OK on your halfpersonal day for next week. That isn’t a, err… lie. Bye, cutie!””All right,” I said, “bye-bye.””Is everything okay?” Mr. Steinman asked as I hung up the telephone.”Oh, sure,” I answered. “I had just asked for Tuesday afternoon off totake care of some family matters, and they were just letting me knowthat they had cleared it with Mr. Conlin.” Mr. Steinman frowned alittle, and said, “He didn’t say anything to me about it, but I guessit’s okay. No serious problems at home, I hope?””No,” I answered, “just usual family nonsense.” He turned back to hisdesk, and I went back to the stockroom.I told Edith all about the calls from my two new boyfriends over lunch.She showed a motherly interest in them asking, “Well, when do I get tomeet them? You should bring them home to meet your mother sometime.”We both laughed at this, but it was not a bad idea. I asked Edith,”When I do, could I… introduce you as my mother for real? I wouldlike that.” Edith got a little misty, and after a short pause,answered, “Of course, Bobbi. I would like that very much too.”I think we got even closer then if that was possible. She had already accepted me as her daughter, and this was my way of telling her that Itoo accepted the relationship. I really did see her as my mother inevery way. A girl needs a mother to help her along, and be a sort ofrefuge for her to turn to when she has problems. Since my naturalmother had abandoned this role, I needed a substitute. Edith was morethan willing to accept the role, and I was happy to have her in it.There is a real “sisterhood” among women that most men do not fullyunderstand. It was slowly beginning to show itself to my ownunderstanding, and Edith was part of it. She was also as much a friendas a mother figure, and I liked that part best of all. We have stayedthat way all of my life.Friday came at last, and I was ready for it. I had packed all of myrehearsal clothes, and a few other things in a big blue canvas bag thatI could sling over my shoulder by its handles to go to work. My dancingclass was due to start at 6:00PM, so I would have to go straight fromwork. I would have liked to have work a skirt that day, but I could notgo to work in one.I was hating that job more and more every day. Margo worked as acashier in a variety store, and held that job as a woman. I would haveliked to do the same, but the salary she made was very small. That iswhy she turned tricks for cash as a TV prostitute at night. There wasno other way to afford the apartment we shared. My moving in meant thatshe did not have to turn as many tricks, but she still needed to do afew. If I were to have taken a job like hers, it would mean that Iwould have to do the same thing. I did not want to have to live thatway.I did not make a large salary at the department store, but it was justabout enough for the rent, food, clothing, and other essentials. Iturned a few tricks too. That gave me some extra money to have funwith. I could also just afford the twenty dollars a week for thedancing lessons on my salary.The doctor bills that I would have to incur in order to be all thewoman that I could be were another matter. I knew that a full programof Sexual Reassignment Surgery, or SRS, cost quite a bit of money, butI had no idea of how I would get it. Turning to my family was out ofthe question. There were only two possible options as I saw it. I couldsave enough out of part-time modeling assignments if the interview thatPaul had set up with his friend Jack worked out, or I could turn, likeso many other drag queens, to prostitution.Prostitution is an easy way to make a small living for a number of dragqueens. There are always men who are unsettled enough with theirsexuality that they want to try a sample of what it is like to have asexual encounter with another man, but need the trappings of femininitythat such an encounter with a drag queen provides to keep them fromthinking that they have turned “queer”. There are bisexual men who justenjoy making love with a transvestite. Also there are the men that justwant a “change of pace” from their wives and/or girlfriends. Many menof these types are willing to spend a few dollars to satisfy theirneeds.Crossing the gender gap from male to female can be very impoverishing.Most males lack the job skills that are needed to fit into a mid-range”female” job like secretary or typist, and the top-of-the-line jobs aredifficult to get when you show up at the interview in a skirt whileyour university record indicates that you are a male. Even for lowlevel jobs things are difficult if you do not have identification and aSocial Security Number that shows you to be female.I got around all this by holding my job as a male while living the restof the time as a female. Margo did it by working “off the books” for anemployer that knew she was a transvestite. She had to give the guy atleast one blow-job a week in his dingy office at the back of the storeto keep the job, but she did not seem to mind that very much.The real problem that she and other transvestites that supportedthemselves in the same way had was a total lack of any reserves orbenefits of any kind. It is a completely hand-to-mouth existence. It isvery easy to lose all self-esteem living that way, yet that very senseof self-esteem is what you need most to become all the woman that youcan be. Prostitution offers an easy way to lift yourself up a little onan economic basis for as long as you are pretty enough to attract a”john” while satisfying an inner need of most transvestites to provethemselves as women sexually as often as possible.Making the decision to adopt the lifestyle of the drag queen can be aspainful as making the decision not to adopt it. The need to be what Ireally am, however, compels me to do it. I cannot deny myself.The real problem that I had with the way I was supporting myself wasthat it was depressing. I was thinking about this as I handed the bagwith my rehearsal clothes in it to Edith to keep under her desk for me.I was dressed in my usual jeans, sweater top, and penny loafers, but inthat bag were the things that I would rather have been wearingincluding a skirt, heels, stockings, and lingerie that I would changeinto after my class. I so desperately wanted to be wearing them now.I retrieved my bag from Edith at 4:45PM. Mr. Conlin had said that itwas all right for me to leave fifteen minutes early on Fridays fromthen on. I had told him that I needed the extra time to get to school,and he seemed pleased to help me in continuing my education. I justneglected to tell him what sort of class I was taking.Edith wished me luck as I headed out the door to my first dancingclass. The “Stage Door Dancing Academy” was on 48th Street between 8thAvenue and Broadway. Those side streets around Broadway just north ofTimes Square are lined with aging office buildings filled withbusinesses involved in the theatrical trades. This is where you startyour climb to stardom through the rehearsal floors of the dancingschools, or the casting couches of the agents and producers. This isalso a place to wind out your career when you find out that stardom isharder to achieve than you thought, and get a job as a dance teacherfor a new crop of hopefuls, or a receptionist for a producer where youcan usher those same hopefuls toward that casting couch that is stillwarm from your own turn on it.I took a few minutes to stop into the Coffee Shop near the departmentstore for a soda, and pop into their Ladies Room to put on my make-up,bra, and jewelry as I did each evening on my way home from work. I gota big smile and a little wave from the Puerto Rican boy behind thecounter when I walked in. I smiled back at him, and parked my canvasbag on the counter with him while I used the Ladies Room. His smile waseven broader when I emerged all made-up. “You early tonight, si?” hesaid with a heavy accent. “Yes,” I answered. “I’m going to dancingclass.” He added a nod to the smile as he brought my soda, but said nomore as he went back to his station at the end of the counter. His bossdid not like him to talk to the customers.I finished the soda, and gave him a smile of my own as I left. I walkedup 5th Avenue to 42nd Street then crosstown to Times Square. I lookedover all the theater marquees as I turned again uptown through TimesSquare on Broadway. I was daydreaming of what it would be like to havemy name up there as the leading lady in a musical. It was a pleasantthought, but a goal that was a long way off, and rather unrealistic. Iwould settle for a job as a chorus girl, but I wanted that job as awoman instead of just being one of the TV’s in the “G.G.Girls” chorusline. I made up my mind then to set that as a goal.I got to the “Stage Door Dance Academy” about twenty-five minutesearly. There was nothing at all fancy about the place. The little outeroffice was plain with just a few chairs, and a small desk behind whichsat a small middle aged woman. “May I help you?” she asked as I camein.I told her my name, and she said, “Oh yes, you’re just startingtonight. We have a few forms to fill out, and then Toni wants to seeyou before class.” She handed me a clipboard with some papers on it,and I sat down to fill them out. They were standard name and address,contract, and insurance forms, and I was done with them quickly. Ihanded them back to her, and she said, “Okay, come with me, and I’lltake you back to meet Toni.” My dancing career was about to begin.A door in the reception area led back to the dance floor. It was just abig room with a wooden floor about thirty feet square. One wall was allwindows looking onto 48th Street, and another was all mirrors. Adancer’s bar ran around most of the walls except for the one with thewindows. An odd assortment of crude props cluttered one corner, and anupright piano filled another next to which was a bookcase full of tapesand records with a small hi-fi set on top.Over on one wall near the window side of the room was a door that borethe name “TONI” in capital letters over a big gold star. “My name isLiz. I run the office, and play the piano here. I’m the one you come toif you have any problems,” she said as we crossed the dance floor, andshe knocked at the door to Toni’s office.”Come!” said a voice from inside, and Liz opened the door to let me in.Inside Toni sat behind a large wooden desk. There was a sidechair bythe desk, and Toni shook my hand, and motioned for me to sit.Toni’s office was a little less spartan than the rest of the “StageDoor Dance Academy”. Her desk dominated the room with its presence, andthat was because it looked slightly out of place. The rest of the roomlooked more like a dancer’s dressing room done up as a museum display.The windows overlooking 48th Street continued across one wall of theoffice. There was a dressing table with a mirror ringed with lights onthe opposite wall. Behind the desk were some bookcases full of books ondance and business, a file cabinet, and a rail of costumes. A largebrown leather sofa was against the wall just inside the door with aside table next to it topped by a pile of worn dance magazines, and alamp with a statue of a nude woman in a ballet pose as its base. Amatching lamp with the figure of a nude man in another pose decorated atwin table at the other end of the sofa. The walls were covered withframed newspaper clippings and photographs mostly of or about Toni, butsome of famous dancers complete with autographs. One picture lookedvery much like Tina, but I could not be sure.Toni herself was tall with a figure that can only be described aswillowy. Her breasts and hips were not large, and there was not thetrace of an ounce of fat anywhere about her. Her features ran to the”mannish” side with high angular cheekbones and a strong chin. Hermedium brown hair was short. Her dark eyes flashed with a fire anddrive that I have seen in few women. She was quite beautiful.”Bobbi,” Toni began as I sat in the chair, and Liz closed the doorleaving us alone, “I talk to all the new girls when they first arriveto give them the rules here.” Her voice was stern but friendly, and Isat up straight to show interest.”We have a nice group here, and I like it that way,” Toni continued. “Iexpect all of my girls to be on time, and do what they’re told. The keyto dance is discipline. If you’re here just for fun or figure control,you’re in the wrong place. I train serious dancers who want to work asdancers. I don’t have time for anything else. Do you understand?” Inodded, and Toni went on with a little less stern voice.”I know that you are a transvestite,” she said. “I only train femaledancers normally, but I do make an exception for serious TV’s. Tinavouches for you, so that is fine. There is also another TV in yourclass. The rest of the class are all women, but they know that the twoof you are here, so don’t feel embarrassed in the dressing room. Yourbody is your instrument in dance, so don’t be afraid to show it. Theonly thing I will NOT tolerate is anything sexual of any type in thedressing room or on the dance floor. You are just one of the womenhere, and I expect you to act like it. Do you understand me?” I saidthat I did, and Toni directed me to the dressing room. I left heroffice, and headed there. I was on my way to becoming a dancer.There were two other doors in the wall of the rehearsal studio next tothe one that led to Toni’s office. The one on the middle bore the name”LIZ” with a gold star a little smaller than the one on Toni’s door,and the other just said “Dressing Room” on it. I walked to the dressingroom door, and was just about to push it open when Liz cam up behindme, and said, “Just a minute, Bobbi! Let me give you some things first.This is your I.D. card for the studio just in case I am not here, andhere is your locker key. You have number 32. That’s a lucky one. Thelast girl that had it is on Broadway now.” I took the things she pushedtoward me, and thanked her. It was now time to change, and get to work.Inside the dressing room was as plain as the rest of the studio. Therewere five or so girls in there when I entered, and all in variousstates of undress in the process of changing. I had been in lockerrooms full of boys before, but this was the first time I had ever beenin a girl’s locker room. Three walls of the room were all lockers, and the remaining one was a long make-up table with mirrors and lightsabove. It looked just as I pictured any theater chorus dressing roomwould look. The center of the room was filled with benches for us tochange on.I found my locker, and opened it. I set my canvas bag down on a bench,and started taking off my clothes. Toni had said that she had told theother girls that there were two TV’s in the class, so I had nothing toworry about from them. I wondered who the other TV was, and how wewould get along. One girl, however, spoke as I removed my bra.”Hi!” she said. “My name’s Pamela. What’s yours?” She was a ratherordinary looking woman, but pleasant enough. “Bobbi,” I said with asmile. She smiled back, and said, “Oh, your one of the drags that Tonisaid were in the class. That’s all right. I don’t mind. My locker isnext to yours, so maybe we can be friends here?” I thought that mightbe a good idea, so I went along with it. I wanted to fit into thisgroup here, so I needed all the friends I could find.I was just pulling my sweater over my head when a familiar voice said,”Well, hello Bobbi. Toni didn’t tell me that you were the other TV inthe class.” The sweater popped off my head to reveal my friend Pattyputting her own bag of rehearsal clothes on the bench. “This might befun,” I said with a smile of surprise on my face. “I thought you werein a more advanced class.” No,” she answered, “I took one class a fewweeks ago, but that was only because Toni didn’t have a beginners classjust then. She thought it would be better for me to move to this one.””Well,” I said, “I think it is a pretty good idea too. Maybe we canhelp each other.”Having Patty in the class made me feel a little better about it. It isone thing to be out on the street in drag where nobody knows that youare not exactly as you present yourself, but quite another to be in thesort of situation that I was now in. After I had finished talking toPatty, I turned to strip off my jeans, and was confronted with anentire room full of naked and semi-naked women. There were a total oftwenty of us in the class to start with, and all of us were here now.Patty and I presented ourselves as women, and Toni had assured us thatwe would be treated as such. It was a little intimidating, however, tobe faced with this reality of becoming a woman.As I grew up, I had, as all boys had, been taught that the Ladies Roomwas not a place I should go. The Ladies Room at “The Gilded G****” wasone in name only. The couple of public Ladies Rooms that I had been inwere almost as sordid affairs as the Men’s Rooms that I had been in.This was very different. It bordered on an almost intimate situation. Idid not feel a strong sexual attraction to these eighteen women, but Ihad to force myself not to stare at the strange newness of thesituation.I stripped down to just my panties, and put on my rehearsal clothes. Iwas pulling on my tights when I noticed Pamela staring at me. I lookedup at her, and she blushed in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said.”That’s all right,” I said with a giggle. “I like being looked at.”Pamela looked puzzled for a second, and then laughed too. “I shouldtell you,” she said, “that you’re not what I expected when Toni told methat there would be TV’s in the class. You and your friend Patty arevery pretty.”I was pleased to hear her say this, but it was a little naive andcondescending. I returned her remark by saying, “Thank you, but youdidn’t expect us to have full beards, did you?” and added anothergirlish giggle to soften the statement. Pamela laughed too. We had madea joke of it, but my message had gotten through. She treated me justlike the woman I am ever since then.I was dressed in a few minutes, and left the dressing room to join thecrowd of women milling about on the dance floor. Then the door toToni’s office opened, and she appeared. Toni wasted no time inpreliminaries, but went about in the group lining us up, and telling usto remember our places in line for future classes.She went through a few minutes of the theory of dance, and thenlaunched into getting us moving with some warm-up and exercise moves.These were sort of like the moves that Tina had taught me. Other thansome more instruction on some dance theory, and an explanation of theproper way to move at the dancer’s bar, that was about all we did forthe two hours of class. There was not much more she could do with us.This was the first time on a dance floor for most of those in theclass.At last Toni told us that next week we would start working on someballet positions, and called the class over. I was tired, but I did nothurt as I had after the rehearsal with Tina. I guessed that all theexercises this week were getting my muscles used to this, and I wasright. I was becoming a dancer, but there was still a long way to go.Liz followed the group into the dressing room carrying a fish bowl fullof little slips of paper. “Only two at a time in the shower!” shecalled out. “Draw a number for your turn! Matching numbers showertogether!” I turned to see where Patty went guessing that we would beexceptions, but Liz stepped in front of me. “Take a number, Bobbi,” shesaid. “When we said that you had to be just one of the girls to fit in,we meant it.” She held the fish bowl out, and I took a piece of paper.On it was the number 6. I wondered who my shower partner would be.I walked back to my locker to take my clothes off. I saw Patty there,but she had drawn an 8, so we would not be together. I stripped down tomy panties, and put on a terry cloth robe. I slipped my panties offfrom under the robe without dislodging my penis from its tuck, andwaited for my turn. I knew that I could not keep my penis tuckedbetween my legs in the shower. I was about to see a live woman totallynaked for the first time in my life, and I was going to be totallynaked too. Most males would have jumped at this chance, but I wasnothing short if terrified!I had never been naked in front of a woman since I was in diapers. Ifelt no sexual attraction toward women, and I had trouble imaginingthat any of them would feel any sexual attraction toward me. Sexualitydid not enter my mind at all. What was causing some emotional conflictwas the old taboos of society that I learned as I had grown up. Beingnude with other boys around was something that I had done in highschool. It was even condoned in the gym class shower, but never withgirls around. That taboo was about to receive the same “one, two,three, KICK!” that we did on the chorus line.”Six!” Liz called out as two girls emerged from the shower. I rose togo in, and so did Pamela. “Well,” she said, “I guess we’re together.”She looked as nervous as I felt as we entered the shower room. I closedthe door behind us, but did not latch it. In a minute there would benothing to hide.The shower room was really just a big double size stall with two showerheads jutting out from one wall, and a little bench outside the area ofthe spray on the opposite wall. The shower room at “The Gilded G****”was bigger, and at least had a “modesty panel” between the two heads.This one had no such amenities, so each one in here was totally exposedto the gaze of the other. Above the bench was a sign that read:YOUR BODY IS YOUR INSTRUMENT TAKE PROPER CARE OF IT BE PROUD OF IT -TONIMaybe there was some humor buried in that. It seemed like it was tryingto say something about the shower arrangements if nothing else.Pamela and I gave each other a furtive look, and then changed that toone of resignation. I took the lead at that point, and tossed my robeonto the bench. I was totally naked, but still with my penis in itstuck. Pamela looked slightly puzzled, but tossed her robe onto thebench as well. We were totally naked, but Pamela looked littledifferent from any drag queen that I had ever seen that way. I keptexpecting to see a penis pop from its tuck between her legs, but shedid not have one. That was the way that I wanted to be.”Where’s your dick?” Pamela blurted out, and then covered her mouthwith her hand in embarrassment. Her question shocked me at first, butwe would be taking a lot of showers together as this class went on. Idecided it would be better to get this all out of the way now. It wouldmake things a lot easier in the long run.I smiled to try to show Pamela that I had taken no offence as I said,”Oh, it’s there all right. I just have it tucked back between my legs,so that it won’t make any unfeminine bulges in my clothes.” Pamelaseemed a little surprised at the matter-of-fact way that I had answeredher, so I went on a bit more. “Look,” I said as gently as I could, “Iknow you are still a little confused. Toni said that she told all thegirls about Patty and I, and you all accept us, but acceptance is notalways understanding. I don’t expect that you will ever understand itall. That really isn’t even necessary for you to do, and I am not surethat I even understand all of it myself, but please try to understandone thing. I am more a woman with a penis than a man in a dress. Theonly thing that is in any way male about me is the fact that I do havea penis, but if things go right, I’m going to have that changed soon.”Pamela thought for a moment, and then said softly, “Gee, I didn’t thinkof it that way. I wasn’t sure what to think when Toni told me about it.She was mostly concerned with how things would go in the dressing roomwith the nudity, and all that. I’m a sort of a nudist anyway, so thatdidn’t bother me. I guess that I thought the only possible problemswould be sexual ones.”I shook my head, and said, “No, I have no sexual interest in otherwomen at all. The only sexual partners I want are men.””Then you’re Gay?” Pamela asked.”Well,” I replied, “most people might say so based on my biologicalgender, but since I’m psychologically a woman in every other way, isn’tit a natural thing for me to like men?”Pamela nodded. “I guess so,” she said.”Let me prove it once and for all, okay?” I said. Pamela agreed, and Ispread my legs to free my penis from its tuck. It was flaccid, so itcame out slowly, and just hung limply over my scrotum. Pamela looked atit, but seemed unsure of what to say or do. “See,” I said with agirlish giggle. “It’s soft. If there were going to be any sexual problems, wouldn’t I have a hardon right about now?”Pamela was speechless at first. She just sort of stared at my littlesoft penis for a while. Then looked me in the eye, and said with herown nervous sort of giggle, “Well, now I’m really confused. I’m gladyour not aroused by being here naked with me because as a man you don’tturn me on, and I’m not sexually into women, but I’m a little insulted,on the other hand, that I don’t turn on every person that I meet.”We both looked at each other, and broke down into a fit of laughter.”You turn me on as a friend,” I said at last.”That’s fine with me too, girlfriend,” said Pamela. We did our showeras friends, and I liked it that way. We had come to more understandingthan we knew.Pamela had to go home right after the shower, so I waited around forPatty to finish hers. Patty lived a few blocks away from where I did,so we walked home together. We were both too tired to go to “The GildedG****” that after class, but we talked about doing the show theretomorrow night. I also told her about Peter meeting me there for adrink. She said that she thought she had seen him around the bar acouple of times, but not very regularly. We got to her house first, soI walked on home alone.The walk was not very far. The direct route from the “Stage Door DanceAcademy” to my house was only about four blocks, but walking Patty homehad added a two block detour to that. I was home in a jiffy. I calledEdith when I got home, and we chatted about dance class and the show.Sometimes a girl just wants to talk to her mother. I went to bed ateleven o’clock. Margo did not come home until three in the morning. Shehad turned four tricks that night.I slept late that Saturday morning, so that I would be rested for theshow that night. Amateur production or not, this would be my debut onstage, and I wanted everything to be just right. I was also lookingforward to seeing Peter again. I really liked him, and I wanted him tolike me too.I did some dance exercises around the house most of the day to limberup. Tina said that she wanted us there by 6:00PM to get ready for theshow, so I had some time to kill. Margo dragged herself out of bed atabout one o’clock, and sat in the living room watching me while smokingcigarettes and drinking coffee to try to relieve her hangover. She toldme jokingly that watching me made her tired, but added that I should,”…dance well tonight. The better you look up there on stage, thehornier the guys in the audience will be, and the more tricks I canturn.” Margo was saving to buy a color television. She needed the cash.I finally quit exercising at about three o’clock, and took a shower. Iwould have liked to indulge myself in a bubble bath to be soft andperfumed for Peter, but that would just be a waste with all theexertions coming up in the show. I had a little something to eat withMargo afterward, and then made ready to dress for the evening.I decided to go to “The Gilded G****” in casual clothes, but take anice dress along for Peter to walk me home in. I have always beenpartial to clingy knit jersey sheaths, so I carefully folded my kellygreen one with the high d****d neckline in front, and not much of aback into my dance bag. I also put in a green satin slip, bra, garter-belt, and panties set to go with the dress. I did want for Peter totake me out on a real date before I let him get me into bed, but I alsowanted all of my clothes to be as sexy as they could be just in casethe temptation was too great later. Always be prepared.I put on an everyday bra and panties, and covered these with a cableknit sliver-grey sweater top, and a skirt made of blue denim. It cameto an inch above the top of my knee, and I really liked the whistles Igot when I set my legs off with sheer stockings, and grey pumps tomatch the sweater. I tossed all the rest of my stuff in the bag, andwent to the apartment door to leave.Margo had gotten dressed too, and was waiting by the door to walk tothe club with me. We talked quite a bit for the short distance from ourhouse to “The Gilded G****”. We did not get much chance to do that eventhough we shared the apartment. My schedule and her drinking preventedus from seeing all that much of each other when we were both sober andlucid. We needed more time together.We got to “The Gilded G****” around 5:30PM. Margo headed straight forthe bar, and ordered a drink. I told her that I was not drinking untilafter the show, and headed to the dressing room to put my dance bag inmy locker.I returned to the bar, and talked to Margo a bit more. She and I werestill good friends as well as roommates even if her drinking was a little difficult to take. I honestly wanted to help her, but I do notthink that she recognized that it was a problem at all. I did not knowit then, but we would both have to face up to her problem in future.Not tonight, though. This was not a night for confrontation.”Well, I see you made it in plenty of time,” came a voice from behindme. It was the ubiquitous Billie starting her job of shepherding usaround for Tina. Billie was another one who seemed to live at “TheGilded G****” all the time. I never saw her anywhere else, and she wasalways somewhere about whenever I was in the club. I wondered where shereally lived, and how she lived. Just feminine curiosity, I guess.Tina appeared at precisely 6:00PM, sharp. She made a regal sort ofentrance in a full-length cocktail dress covered in blue and greensequins, and a sliver fox jacket. She walked slowly, but deliberatelyto the back of the club, and into the corridor leading to the dressingroom. “Come along, Bobbi,” was all she said as she passed me. She didthe same with the other “G.G.Girls” who were sitting in various placesaround the club. We all dutifully followed her. She was the boss, andwe knew it.When we were all in the dressing room Tina spoke, “The show tonight isa simple one for us, but that doesn’t make it any less important to doour best. You’ll find your costumes in the boxes over by the door. Yourname will be on your box. The basic leotard will work for the wholeshow, but you’ll find two headpieces and a cape in there too. The smalltiara headpiece is for the kick line numbers. The big one with thefeathers and the cape are for the show girl stuff to back up Janet’ssongs. Janet, you’ll have to change out of your leotard into your dressfor that one. All right?” Janet nodded her understanding. “All rightnow, ladies!” Tina commanded. “We have an hour and a half to get ready.I want an hour before the first show to do a dress run-through of allof it. We are going to have two guest girls in here with us from theother acts, so make them welcome. Let’s get to it!”We all got our costume boxes. Inside was a leotard covered in sparklingblue and green sequins just like Tina’s dress. The leotard had aneckline that connected to a wide choker collar, but no back from theshoulders to the waist, and no sleeves. It did have a built in paddedpush-up bra, and I was pleased with that. It gave me a very nicebustline. The small headpiece was actually a rhinestone tiara, but thelarge one was straight out of Las Vegas. It was over a foot high, andalmost two feet wide, and all blue and green peacock feathers. The capewas just plain aqua satin, but with a high flared collar.There was no striptease or joking in the dressing room tonight. Wecould have all the fun we wanted at rehearsals, but this was business.It was not all that different from a professional show. People came to”The Gilded G****” to see the show, and that meant money to Gerry, theowner. We did a lot of work for no pay to put the show on, but we gotthe fun of doing it, and some professional exposure. All of us had eyeson some kind of an entertainment career, and drag bar or not, therewere professionals in that audience who could help. One of the”Rockettes” was actually a sex-change who got her start, and wasdiscovered as one of the “G.G.Girls”!We were all in costume soon enough, and Tina showed us the way shewanted us to walk in the show girl numbers to back up Janet’s songs,and for one of the other acts. It just consisted of spreading the cape,and holding it up with our outspread arms as if it were wings while wewalked from pose to pose with a pretty smile pasted on our faces. Tinawas very concerned that we do it exactly right.About ten minutes before the show I managed to slip away for a peek atthe audience. As he had promised, Peter was there sitting at a tablenear the front. I wanted to do my best more than ever now. He couldhave just sat at the bar, or stood in the back. “The Gilded G****”charged a five dollar cover per show to sit at one of the tables aroundthe stage while the show was going on. Peter’s table was marked”Private”, so that meant that he had paid twenty dollars for a privatetable. The card on the table also showed that he had it as his privatetable for the whole evening. This was 1966, so forty dollars was quitea bit to spend to see the same drag show twice. He really did want tosee me!We were all lined up behind the curtain in kick line order when atexactly nine o’clock Tina, in her role as Mistress of Ceremonies,stepped onto the stage as the house lights dimmed, and the stage lightscame up to start the show. I heard her give a brief synopsis of theacts, and then raise her voice to say, “…and the fabulous G.G.Girls!”The curtain parted, and we launched into a high-kick chorus line numberto start the show. My stage debut had begun!The number lasted only a few minutes, and we parted the line in themiddle to dance off into the wings as the next act, a comedy troupe ofthree Gay male acrobats, came out from backstage between us. We went tothe dressing room to change to our show girl costumes.”Did your boyfriend show up?” asked Patty as we sat on the dressingbench to catch our breath.”Yes,” I answered, “he’s here! He’s at a table alone on the right.”Patty lit a cigarette, and took a deep puff. “I thought that was him,”she said. “He’s cute! Treat him nice, or I just might try to steal himaway from you,” she added with a laugh.We did our show girl numbers to back up one of the other acts, andJanet’s songs which went over very well. During the songs I noticedthat Margo had now joined Peter at his table, and I wondered what thatwas all about. One more costume change, and we were back on stage as achorus line for the high-kick finale of the show. We had an hour and ahalf between shows, so I stripped off my leotard, and borrowed a plainblue shirtdress from Billie to go out and see Peter.”Hello!” said Peter standing to greet me as I approached his table.”You looked wonderful on stage!” he added as I kissed him in greeting,and we sat down. “Yes,” said Margo. “I don’t usually watch the shows,but I just couldn’t miss your first one. I thought I recognized Peterhere, and he was kind enough to ask me to join him for a cocktail.”The comments sounded innocent enough, but it bothered me to have Margositting here with Peter. She was always trying to find ways to getinvolved in whatever I was doing especially if it involved men. Atfirst it was just a sort of “big sister” sort of thing, but it wasalready starting to change into something else. Margo was gettingjealous of me. She saw me becoming the woman that she had wanted to be,but never had. It was her drinking and prostitution that had kept herfrom it, but she could not see that. It depressed her, and that madeher drink all the more. It was a vicious circle.I had a soda with them, and we talked for a while. Peter keptcomplimenting me on how nice I looked, and how well I had performed onstage. Margo kept telling him how she had got me started, and what goodfriends we were. tuzla escort bayan What she said was all basically true, but the way shesaid it made it appear that she had done it all, and I had little partin it. It was embarrassing, but soon I had to get ready for the secondshow. I excused myself, and went backstage.”How did it go?” asked Patty as I took off the dress, and got back intocostume.I sighed, and said, “About as well as it could with Margo buzzingaround like the queen of the hive.” Patty nodded, and said, “I saw someof that. Maybe I can help you after the show. Two of my regular johnsare here. I’ll try to get her onto one of them, so you can have sometime with your boyfriend.” That made me feel a lot better. It also mademe feel good that Patty would talk so openly about her prostitutionwith me. We all did it, but only real friends talked about it openlythat way. I liked being Patty’s friend.The second show went just like the first except that there was a biggeraudience. This was normal. Most of the people who frequented “TheGilded G****” did not come out until about ten o’clock. Margo spent thewhole show glued to Peter’s table. Why did she have to pull this stunttonight of all nights?!The second show was over at 12:30AM, and we all slumped back into thedressing room. We were tired. It had been a long day for all of us, andthe lateness of the hour did not help either. Dancing is a very tiringthing. I would have liked to have just gone home to bed, but I had adate. That gave me a second wind. This was one date that I wanted tokeep!I stripped off all of my clothes, and even took my penis out of itstuck. All the exertion had made me rather hot and sweaty, and the coolair all over my body made me feel better. I was still nude when Pattyarrived.”Well,” she said, “but don’t we look all hot and sexy! I hope Peterappreciates what he is getting when he gets your little ass in bedlater.” I still was not sure if Peter was going to be getting me inbed, but I took what Patty said as a strange sort of compliment. “Ifixed it up with one of my johns,” Patty continued. “I told him that Iwas busy, but that I would fix him up with Margo after I changed. Youown me one.”I thanked Patty with a hug, and put on my robe. It was time for ourshower, so we went into the shower room. We did not talk much while weshowered. As we were leaving, Patty said, “I’ll go out first, and takecare of Margo. Give me about ten minutes before you come out.” That wasnot a problem. I wanted to take my time dressing up for Peter.Patty dressed quickly, and was gone. The others were done too, so in aminute I was alone except for Billie who was puttering about puttingthe costumes away. I took out my green jersey dress, and got ready tosee Peter. I decided to leave my canvas bag in my locker, and pick itup tomorrow.I was just folding my lace shawl over my arm when Tina came in. “My,but don’t we look sexy!” she purred in a catty sort of way. “I’ll betyou have a date with that stud that’s been talking to Margo out front.Well, just save some of that sweet ass of yours for me!” She winked atme, and left. I wondered how she knew about my date with Peter, but thegossip flowed like water in “The Gilded G****” all the time, and Iguessed that the story of Peter and I was all over the place by then.She was also telling me that she wanted me in bed again too at somepoint. That was all right, but not tonight!I stepped out into the bar, and looked over at Peter’s table. Patty wasover there, and she and Margo were talking. They left Peter alone atthe table, and went over to two guys standing against the wall. Pattyhad come through. I did owe her one now.”Well, hello!” Peter said greeting me for the second time that night,but with a big smile now. I sat down at the table, and ordered a drink.No soda this time. Work was over, and I wanted to have some fun. Peterand I talked happily until two o’clock in the morning. By then I wasjust too tired to go on, so Peter suggested that he walk me home.We talked more all the time we walked. I took his arm, and held ittightly. I do not know if Peter knew it then, but I was falling forhim. All he had to do was ask, and I would have done absolutelyanything he wanted me to.Peter took me all the way to the door of my apartment. I demurely tookout my keys, and handed them to him. He unlocked the door, and pushedit open. I stepped into the doorway, and looked up at him. He took mein his arms at last, and kissed me deeply. I melted to him, and felt mypenis stiffen back in my crotch. I pressed my thigh against him, andfelt that his cock was also hard. It felt good pressing against me thatway. I wanted it pressing into me in another way too!Peter broke the kiss, and said, “No, not tonight. I want everything tobe just right for us when it does happen.” I was a little surprised,but I was happy too. I was glad that he saw me as more than just aneasy piece of ass. I had fallen in love with Peter, and I wanted it allto be right too.Peter kissed me once more, and then left promising to call me tomorrow.I went in, and straight to bed. All I could think of was Peter.Margo came in at about 5:00AM. She and Patty had done a foursome withthe two guys at Patty’s apartment, and she had made one hundreddollars. Margo had her television set, and I had fallen in love. Not abad night all things considered.Sub-title: Pretty as a PictureI arrived at work on Tuesday morning at my normal time, but this wasnot to be exactly a normal day. I would only put in a half-day today. Iwas going for my interview this afternoon for my first modeling job,and that could be my first real job as a woman. My friend Paul from thePersonnel Department had set it up for me, and I was feeling veryexcited about it.The appointment was set for two o’clock, and I would be able to leavethe store at noon. That gave me two hours to go home, change into adress, and get to the interview. The company that was holding theinterviews was on 38th Street just off 7th Avenue. That was only a fewblocks from the department store where I worked as a stockboy, but Iwould need to take a cab home, and then another to the interview inorder to make it.Edith was a little disappointed that we would not be able to have lunchtogether today as we usually did. We had talked about the interviewover lunch on Monday, and I had also told her all about my stage debut,and what happened with Peter.I could also report to her that Peter had telephoned me, as he hadpromised to do, on Sunday evening. He and I had talked for quite a longtime then, and I had found that he shared some of the feelings for meas I had for him. I did not want to make too much of it all yet, but itwas something that we might build on as time went on. Edith was verypleased by what was happening in that department. “We’ve never had alawyer in the family before,” she said. “Hold on to him if you can. Amother likes for her daughter to do well like that!”Tuesday morning passed quickly enough, and noon arrived. I picked up mybag in the office, and Edith wished me luck. We decided to meet laterafter the interview for dinner, so I could tell her all about it. Ihurried down to the time clock room to punch out, and ran into Paul. Hewas there on the pretext of checking time cards, but I think that hereally just wanted to see me.”Hi, Bobbi,” he said as I entered the room. We were alone in there, soI greeted him by blowing him a kiss. He smiled at that, and said, “Iwanted to, err… wish you luck on the interview today. I just knowthat Jack is going to, err… like you. I also, err… wanted to ask ifyou were, err… busy on Friday night?” I looked at him with a sweetsmile, and said, “I’ve got a dance class on Friday nights, but I couldmeet you after that. You could come to my place.” I had agreed to behis mistress, and it was now time to make good on that promise.”Ok,” Paul said, “I’ll call you tonight to find out how the interviewwent, and, err… set up the time for Friday.””All right,” I said. “I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you!” Ipunched my card, and left the store giving my ass a good wiggle for hisbenefit as I walked away. I had things to do, and places to go.I turned right when I walked out of the employees entrance, and walkedthe short distance up to 5th Avenue. There would be more cabs therethan on 39th Street. I probably could have made it from the departmentstore to home, and from home to the interview just as fast by walkingas by taxi with all the midtown traffic, but I wanted to look my bestfor the interview. I was nervous enough about it without adding beingtired and out of breath from walking fast in heels to that. There was acab dropping off a pudgy, middle-aged woman in a full-length mink coatin front of the department store, and I hopped in when she got out.Dressed in jeans and loafers as I was there was no teasing the driverwith a quick peek up my skirt in his rear-view mirror this time. All Icould do was tell him where I wanted to go, and sit back as we made ourway through the Manhattan bustle. Today could be the day that I turnedthe corner. If this interview worked out it could be the start of mebeing able to both live and work as a woman on a full-time basis. Iwanted that so very much. The jeans I wore were tight and sexy enoughto almost be women’s jeans, but they were not. I wanted to be in askirt and heels all the time.The taxi deposited me in front of my apartment building a few minuteslater. I paid the driver, and got out. I wasted no time in gettingupstairs to my apartment. I had a lot to do, and not much time to doit. I really had to look all female today.Once in the apartment, I went into my bedroom, and stripped off everystitch of clothing. I took a long look at myself in the full-lengthmirror. My penis was out of its usual tuck back between my legs, sowhat I saw was a rather strange looking, long haired, and veryeffeminate boy. I vowed then that this would be the last time thatanyone would ever see me in that context if I could at all help it. Iwas about to be interviewed for a job as a woman, and that was the waythat I would present myself from then on. I tucked my penis backbetween my legs. That was where it was going to stay until I found theway to have it removed. It was the last barrier to my being acompletely female as I could be. I wanted it cut off as soon aspossible.I reached into my closet, and got out a pink satin robe which I pulledaround me. I just about had time for a quick shower, so I went into thebathroom to let the warm, soapy water wash away the thoughts of themorning spent as a boy. I had to be more woman that I had yet been thisafternoon. The people who would be interviewing me had me listed as awoman, and to get the job, I could do nothing at all that would givethem any other impression. I might be able to let a few details slideonce in a while when I was at “The Gilded G****” with the rest of thedrag queens, or even out on the street under no more scrutiny than thequick glance of a passer-by, but this was different. These peoplewanted female models, and they were going to look all of us who showedup for the job over very carefully. I had to look good enough to bestthe real girls who would be there. I had to be all the woman I couldpossibly be.I stepped out of the shower, and unwrapped the towel that I had put onmy head like a turban to keep my hair dry. My real hair was long enoughnow that I did not need to wear a wig. I went to the mirror to fuss itback into the basics of the feminine style in which I now wore it. Thewaves and curls had been a surprise to those who knew me as a boy, butthey passed it off as just another indication of me being a queer.Edith liked it, and so did I, so that was that.I toweled off, and splashed some perfumed after-bath lotion all overmyself. I was beginning to feel a lot more feminine now, and that wasjust what I wanted. I put my robe back on, and headed for the bedroom.I did not have too much time left, so I tossed the robe onto the bed,and dipped right into my lingerie drawer. I pulled a pair of my sexiestblack lace panties up over my legs, and tucked my penis securely backinto my crotch as far as I could stretch it. The panties were tightenough to both hold my penis there, and make me feel like the sexywoman that I was.I buckled a black lace garter-belt around my waist, and hooked a pairof my sheerest stockings to it after I slipped my legs into them. Amatching black lace bra soon was hooked around my chest, and filled asbest I could with my tiny breasts. The bra was an extra-padded onebecause I did not want to use my falsies in case I had to remove myblouse for any reason.I put on a red silk blouse with very short sleeves, a scooped shawl-like neckline, and buttons down the back to top off my tight blackskirt that fell to just above my knees. An application of red lipstickand pink eye shadow followed my foundation, face powder, and blush. Asingle strand of pearls adorned my neck, and pearl dangle earrings hungfrom my lobes.I stepped into a pair of black patent leather pumps with four inchheels, and put on a black jacket to match the skirt to which I affixeda pearl s**tter pin. I put my things into a black patent leather bagwith a shoulder strap, and I was ready to go. I took a last look in themirror, and I was on my way.Out on the street again, I walked up to 8th Avenue to hail a cab. Itwas about 1:30PM, so I still had half an hour to get to the interview.I got a whistle from some men who were digging up the street, so I knewthat I had accomplished what I had set out to do. I looked as much likea woman as I could. I only hoped that I looked good enough to get thejob.It only took a short time to find a cab, and we were off into the beepand creep of midtown traffic. It took some twenty minutes to get to theaddress that I had given the driver, so I arrived at the building withabout ten minutes to go before my appointment. I paid the driver, andwent upstairs to find the coat company. There were about f******n otherwomen in the reception area when I arrived.”May I help you?” said the receptionist as I approached. “I’m hereabout the modeling job,” I said with a smile.”All right, she answered, “so are the others here. Fill this out, andtake a seat. Jack will be with you in just a few minutes.” She handedme a simple name and address form which I filled out while I satwaiting for Jack. I also took out the note from Paul to give him withthe form. Some of the others had noted or letters too, so I thought itwould be a good idea.A few minutes later a short, middle-aged, and very well dressed mancame out of the office entrance to the reception area, and introducedhimself to the group. It was Paul’s friend Jack, and he asked, “If youladies will please follow me, we can get started now.” We all rosealmost in unison, and followed Jack through the door into the offices.I was the sixth in line, and when I went through the door I foundmyself in a wide corridor with doors going off it in all directions.People were bustling about off to the left along the longest part ofthe corridor, but we turned right where only three doors awaited us.The first door was unmarked, the second had a sign that read “BoardRoom” on it, and the last at the end of the corridor said “Showroom” onit. Jack led us through this last door, and into the Showroom.Inside was a large room with a low stage running across the wall to thefar left. The stage had a runway jutting about half way out into theroom, and around this were seats for about fifty people. There weretheatrical lights on tracks in the ceiling. This was where they heldfashion shows for the store buyers who were their customers. There werethree men and a woman sitting on the far side of the runway from us.”Take a seat, ladies,” said Jack, “and we will explain what we arelooking for.”We all sat down, and Jack mounted the runway to face us. “I want firstto thank you all for coming here today,” he began in even tones withonly the hit of a slight Brooklyn accent that he was desperately tryingto hide. “We are looking specifically for models for our new springline of all-weather coats, but that does not preclude other assignmentsif we feel you are qualified. We need five models, so I am sorry ifthat means that some of you will be disappointed. We have some definiteideas of what we are looking for. We want some new faces, so that iswhy we have not called for a group of professional models. When I amfinished I want you all to line up across the stage in the same orderthat you entered the room. If you have portfolios or purses, leave themat your seats. If you have jackets, coats, or sweaters, please leavethem also. Bring your referral letters, and the form you filled outoutside. All right, ladies. Let’s go.”I put my purse on the seat, and folded my jacket over it. I looked overthe rest of the women there again as I walked to the stage. They wereall tall and lovely. It was also hard to believe that I could be one ofthe five that would be chosen when this was over, but I had come thisfar. I was not about to back out now. Maybe I would be lucky enough toget this job. There was only one way to find out. I ascended to thestage, and took my place in line.We all formed a long line across the stage against the backdropcurtain. There was just barely enough room up there for all of us. Wemust have looked like a cross between a police line-up and a chorusline. One of the men from our tiny audience came up on stage, andhanded each of us a large card with a number on it. He took our nameand address forms too, and wrote the number we had from the card ontothem. Attached to each card was a large loop of cloth ribbon. “Put thisaround your neck with the number hanging in front,” he said, and wentback to his seat.Jack then came up to us with a raincoat over his arm, and said, “Whatwe want you to do is the following. Each of you will put this coat on,and walk to the end of the runway. There you will open it to show thelining, do a turn, close the coat, and return to your place in line.Then take off the coat, and pass it to the next girl in line. Pleasewait in the line until everyone has a chance, and do not start down therunway until we call your number. We may also ask some of you to modelthe coat a second time. If you all cooperate, we will be finishedsoon.” Jack then gave the coat to the number one girl, and went to takea seat with the others.Some of the women on stage shuffled their feet nervously, and lookedlike they did not know what to do with their hands while we waited forJack and the others to get a good look at us before we modeled thecoat. I forced myself to move as little as possible. I was trying toshow that I had the poise of a professional model. I hoped Jacknoticed.”All right!” called Jack out of the darkness of the audience as thestage lights came on. “Could we have number one on the runway, please?”The girl wearing the number one put on the coat, and headed down therunway. She was pretty enough, but with a touch of stiffness in herwalk. I was number six, so I adopted a slight pose in the way I wasstanding, and waited my turn. It did not take long.”Six, please!” came Jack’s voice out of the offstage gloom at last. Itook the coat from the brunette who had just finished her audition, andput it on. My heart was beating a little faster than normal, so I tooka deep breath. It was my turn in the spotlight.I walked as light and delicately as I could down the runway with just ahint of a wiggle in my hips, and my prettiest smile on my face. Ireminded myself not to walk too fast, so they would have the chance tolook me over well. The knowledge that Jack and the others were outthere in the dark looking over every detail of me was a turn-on, and mypenis twitched a little in its tuck back between my legs in my panties.I did my best to ignore it, and held my head high to look my best.At the end of the runway I opened the coat, and held the right side outto model the lining while I did my turn. I did not look down at myaudience, but stared off into the darkness above their heads. When theturn was finished I spread both sides of the coat with my back to them,and took my first step back toward the stage area. On the second step Ipulled the coat closed again, and headed back to the line of girlswhere I had started. At the line, I turned on the balls of my feet,slowly removed the coat, tossed my head seductively to clear my hair,and passed the coat to the number seven girl before again taking mypose to wait while the rest had their turn.The number seven girl nodded her head knowingly at me when I gave herthe coat. She seemed to be telling me that I had done well. I hopedthat she was right.It really did not take all that long to get through all the girls whohad shown up, but that forty-five minutes seemed like an eternity ofwaiting for me. I really wanted this modeling job, but I knew that Iwas very different from the others. That made me all the more anxious,and made the wait feel even longer. It was also stretched out a bitmore when they asked two girls to model the coat a second time.Finally Jack said, “All right, ladies. Stay right there while wedecide.” This was it! We would know in a moment if we had been chosenor not.Again the wait seemed to go on forever. I could head them talking inthe seats down near the end of the runway. I could not make out whatthey were saying, but I could swear I heard them mention my number atleast three times. The uncertainty was agonizing.Suddenly the house lights came on again, and Jack announced, “Allright, ladies! We have made our decision. When I call your number,please get your things from where you left them, and come over here.”He pointed to a row of seats behind him, and held up a sheet of paperto read. In even, measured tones he called out, “Three… Seven…Twelve… Six… f******n…”I was stunned! Jack had called my number as one of the five! The othergirls started to go and get their things, but it was as if I had beenriveted to the spot on which I stood. Somehow I had done it. I hadmanaged to get one of the modeling jobs over the competition of somequite beautiful real women. I could hardly believe it. Haltingly I wentto get my jacket and purse, and joined the other four girls in the rowof seats behind Jack. I was now a model!”We would like to thank the rest of you for coming,” I could hear Jacksaying, “and we will keep your telephone numbers on file. Please do notcall us. We will call you if we need you.” It was a standard line, andone that most models know all too well. I, however, had the job Iwanted even if it was only part-time.The girls who were not chosen came down from the stage to collect theirthings, and leave. Some of them had not even waited for Jack to finishspeaking before they did. It is not easy to get a job as a model with atop fashion house. The competition is warlike in its intensity. Theestablished professionals get the best spots. The coat company was byno means a top fashion house, but it was better than a novice modelcould hope for under normal circumstances.There was no professional competition here. Just get referred bysomeone, and pass the audition. A lot of hopes died that day, but someothers were strengthened too. I was feeling very good about myself thatafternoon. I had come a long way.”Congratulations, ladies!” Jack said to the five of us after the othershad left. “I have some other things to do now, so I cannot stay withyou, but before I go, I have two people whom I would like tointroduce.”The first person Jack introduced was a distinguished looking man in hisearly sixties. He was not very tall, but he was well dressed in acustom tailored suit, and he had a presence about him that said he wasthe one in charge. Jack introduced him as the President of the coatcompany, and said his name was Irving.”I would like to welcome you all on behalf of the company,” Irvingsaid. “I hope that your stay with us will be pleasant and pleasurableon both sides. I hope too that we may get to know each other a lotbetter very soon.” Irving had put a lot of emphasis on the word”pleasurable”, and on getting to know us better. What he wanted out ofthis was all too obvious.Irving left with all the rest of the little audience as an entourageexcept for the man who had given us the number cards. Jack introducedhim as Tom, and said he would be the photographer in charge of us. Tomwas in his late thirties, about six feet tall, athletic, and quitehandsome. I am sure that I was not the only one there who would haveliked to have gotten to know him better instead of Irving. He wasdressed in a blue blazer with grey slacks. He took his tie off as soonas Irving was gone. He looked like he would be fun to work under!”I will leave you ladies in Tom’s capable hands,” said Jack getting awry giggle or two out of us with the unintentional double entente. “Hewill get you started, and tell you where you have to be and when.” Jackthen left us, and all eyes turned to Tom.Tom looked back at us with one of the cutest “little boy” smiles I haveever seen. He was now our boss on this job, but even if he had notbeen, I doubt there was a girl there who would not have done almostanything he asked. Tom was a photographer by trade, but the companyretained him here as more of a director of photography, stage manager,and manager of the models. He was responsible for the stage and itslighting, the official company photography at any of the shows,allocating show invitations to outside photographers, all catalog oradvertising photography, and the hiring and management of models.The job sounded a lot more impressive than it actually was. If Tomspent a total of thirty days a year on it, he would be doing more thanit entailed. This company was really not that big. This fashion showstage and runway had been built as much for ego as for need. Theyrented it out to other companies when they could. The company and thejobs in it were not all that impressive. What was impressive at thatmoment was the fact that I had one of those jobs as a model.”Hi!” said Tom after a minute or two of looking us over. “Now thatthey’re gone, we can talk a little. I know that you’re all excitedabout getting modeling jobs here, but we’ve got some work to do now.This job just ain’t that big a deal. It pays well enough when you’reworking, but you’re not working all that much. What is a big deal isthe exposure. You get seen here at the couple of shows that we’ll do,you get seen in the catalog, you get seen in the ads, and you get seenin my proofs that I show to other photographers. I’m going to give youall a standard modeling contract. It isn’t with this place. It’s withmy studio.”We all sort of looked at each other at this point. I guess all of usassumed that we would be employed by the coat company. Tom continued,”You’re assigned exclusively to this gig, but you’ll be working for mystudio. You do the coats under a contract that I have with old Irvingthat you met. It’s a lot better for you that way. If you worked forIrving, that would be it, but working for me, you might get an extraassignment or two as well. The only hitch is that if you do anassignment for another photographer outside of my studio staff, andnotify me of it, I get ten percent of your fee off the top. If you doit without notifying me, though, I get twenty-five percent when I findout, and you lose your contract with me. Understand?”We all nodded, so Tom went on, “Okay! As long as we all understand thebusiness stuff, we can get down to what you all came here for in thefirst place.” He raised the inflection as he finished the sentence byway of making it an injection of humor into what had almost become aheavy situation.”You all want to be models, right?” Tom asked, and we all nodded andmurmured agreement. “Okay, then the first lesson is that thephotographer is boss! I don’t mean to make that sound harsh, but that’sthe way it is. Any creative control that you may want over what you doin front of the lens will have to wait for later in your career. Thesecond lesson is that the photographer is always right! Remember,you’re new to this, and my people and I have been at it for a while. Nomatter what you may have learned in any modeling school, we have theexperience, so trust us. The third and last lesson for today is that ifyou have a problem, remember lessons one and two!”Tom sat back in his chair to let us react to what he had said, and tookout a pipe. He filled the bowl, lit it, and then said, “Okay, if youhave no questions, I need to get a Polaroid of each of you for my file.Will you come up on stage?” He motioned for one of the girls to joinhim on stage. He posed her standing by the curtained backdrop, and tooka head to toe shot with his camera. Then he did the same with each ofus. I was the third one to be photographed.Back in the seats, Tom re-lit his pipe, and said, “I’ve got an envelopehere for each of you. In it is a contract, some personnel forms, and mybusiness card. There is also a sheet explaining what will be expectedof you when we call you in for test shots. My office will call you thisweek to set up a time for those. It will be sometime next week. That’sall, girls! See you in the studio.” He handed us our envelopes, andheaded out the door. We got our things together, and started out too.We were on our way to being models. I rather liked that.I slipped my jacket back on, and picked up my purse. Some of the otherstook a moment to open the envelopes, and glance through the contents.”Well, it looks like we’re going to be working together,” a buxomblonde in a floral print dress said to me as we turned to leave. “Myname’s Judy. What’s yours?” I turned to her, and said, “Bobbi. Is thisyour first modeling job too?” The conversation was as much to get ridof the bit of nervousness we were both feeling after all of this, as itwas to be friendly.”Yes,” Judy answered, “I’ve been taking modeling lessons for almost ayear now. We did some, oh… amateur things through the school, butthis is my first real job. What school did you go to?”I was a little surprised at the question, so I said, “I don’t go tomodeling school. What made you think that I did?”Now it was Judy’s turn to look surprised. “Oh,” she said, “it was justthat you moved so well out on the runway, that I thought you had somesort of training.” I was flattered, so I said, “Thank you. I didn’t goto modeling school, but I do take dance classes.””Oh,” said Judy, “then that explains it. I just knew you had some sortof training.”We stepped through the door, and ran into Irving coming out of theboardroom. He leered at us looking us all over with a lecherous glintin his eyes, and said, “I hope that Tom made you girls feel welcomehere. We have a nice place, and there are lots of places an ambitiousgirl can go if she knows what to do, and knows the right people.” Hewas not subtle at all. We could see from the way he looked our bodiesover that he had us already naked in his mind. I liked having most menlook at me that way, but I found Irving positively distasteful. Thelook in Judy’s eyes said that she felt the same way. We thanked him,and continued on our way out.In the reception area Judy said, “First hazard of being a model. Theexecutive who thinks we are his private stable just because he signsthe cheques. Some of the girls at school talked about it. At least hehasn’t gotten to trying to cop a quick feel yet!” There was a lot ofvenom in the way she said that.Judy and I parted company on the street. She said that she had anotherappointment to go to, and she did not want to be late. We said theusual things about going shopping together some time, and spending timejust making “girl talk” some evening. I liked Judy, and I would notmind having her for a friend, but I wondered if we would ever get todoing those things. Everybody said it to each other, but it onlyhappened for real once in a while.I decided to walk home. It was only about half past four, and I thoughtI might do a little shopping along the way. Actually I wanted tocelebrate! I had pulled off something that other TV’s only dreamedabout. Not only had I gotten a job as a woman, but I had gotten a jobthat would be envied by almost any real woman! I was floating on acloud! It was almost too good to be true.I turned toward 5th Avenue, and started walking up the street. If I wasgoing to buy something to celebrate this momentous occasion, I wantedit to be something nice, and all the best shops were there. I eventoyed with the idea of going into the store where I worked, but I wasafraid that someone might recognize me. Just as I started walking, Iheard someone call my name. It was Tom.I walked over to where he was standing, and returned the greeting. Hesaid, “I’ve been waiting for you to come out, and I hoped you’d bealone. I’d like to talk to you away from the others in private.” I waspuzzled by this, but curious too, so I said, “Sure, what’s on yourmind?” Tom shook his head, and said, “Not here. There’s a bar just upthe street. Could I buy you a drink?””Okay,” I answered, so we walked to the bar, and went inside. I did notunderstand why he wanted to talk to me this way.The bar was dark inside compared with the sunlight outside. It was anice place. This was not some seedy dive. It was not elegant, but itwas clean with a barman in a uniform. It was the sort of place wheregarment center area executives went for lunch, or for a drink afterwork. We went to a booth opposite the bar, and sat down. The cocktailwaitress was there immediately.”What would you like, Bobbi?” Tom asked. I wanted to say champagne togo with the way I was feeling, but I settled for a gin and tonic. Tomordered a scotch and water, neat, and the girl went to the bar for thedrinks. When she went away, I asked, “What’s on your mind, Tom?”Tom lit his pipe, and looked thoughtful for a moment. He leaned forwardto me, and said, “You got that job on your own merit, but you didn’ttell us quite everything about you. Did you?” I was rather taken abackby this, so I asked, “What do you mean?” Just then the waitressreturned with our drinks. The conversation stopped while she put themdown, and we took our first sips.”Don’t worry,” Tom said as he put down his drink. “I’m not going to sayanything about it. Your secret is safe. An associate of mine and Icaught the show at ‘The Gilded G****’ a week or so ago. I sometimes gothere looking for talent for one of my enterprises, and I saw you inthe chorus line. You looked very good up there. It really surprised me,though, when I spotted you on the stage today.”I was shocked to the core! I never expected this. I took a deep drink,and tried to compose my thoughts. What was going to happen now? Ithought for a moment, and then said, “All right, but how is that goingto affect this job?””It’s not going to affect this job at all,” Tom said with a chuckle.”Look, you got this job because you have what we’re looking for. Youare going to model those coats, and nobody is going to take that awayfrom you as long as I have anything to say about it. You’re good atthat, and you’ll make me look good with the photographs. To me, thatmeans money, and that’s all I care about. I don’t care what you are, aslong as you do your job.”That made me feel a little better. I still was not happy about thesituation, but it was starting to look like I could live with it. Iwanted the modeling job. I would do anything to keep it. Now all Ineeded to know was what Tom really wanted out of this. He must havemore up his sleeve.”Well, I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “I appreciate your telling meright away.” Tom re-lit his pipe, and blew some smoke rings into theair above his head. “Besides,” he continued, “I like putting one overon old Irving. You were one of the ones that he was eyeing up. Hethinks that he is some sort of don juan with the models because some ofthem will give him a tumble thinking they will get ahead by balling thecompany president. I can’t stand the old bastard.” We both laughed, andI told Tom about the meeting Judy and I had with Irving in the hallway.We had another good laugh over that. I was getting to like Tom.When we finished laughing, we ordered another drink, and Tom said,”There is one other thing I want to talk to you about,” with athoughtful look on his face again. I knew there had to be somethingelse. I put on my most innocent smile, and said, “Oh? What might thatbe?””I have a lot of projects going,” he said in a matter of factbusinesslike way, “and you just might fit into some of them if you’rewilling.” Tom leaned forward to me again, and said, “Look, I don’t justdo fashion stuff. I have photographers doing all sorts of things inboth stills and movies. I’ve got a business proposition for you. I havea couple of things going that require someone with your, shall wesay… special talents?”Tom sat back again, and said, “I’ll be frank with you. The jobs I’mtalking about are nudes. Some of them are pornography. I want to dosome nude and striptease photographic layouts involving a transvestite.If your willing to do sexual things for the camera with a male actor,we can us it in the stills, and maybe a movie or two. We’ll make youlook different from the legitimate fashion stuff with a wig and makeup.Don’t get the idea that this is some sort of photographer’s lure to getyou naked. I’m not into boys. This is just a plain business deal. Youget a double fee for the stills, and standard actress pay for movies.What do you think?” I was a little surprised to hear myself saying, “Aslong as it doesn’t screw up the modeling job, I’ll do it!”I could hardly believe what I had just said. I had just agreed to dosome transvestite pornography. That was the sort of thing that Star,one of the other “G.G.Girls” did. I had thought of asking her about it,but we had not gotten close enough as friends for me to do that. I hadwanted to try it just for the thrill. Now this handsome photographerjust asked me out of the blue to do it. I could use the extra moneytoo, but I did not want to hurt my standing with any legitimate jobs Icould do.I voiced my concern to Tom, saying, “How is this going to affect thejob I just got, and any others in or out of modeling?” Tom lit his pipeagain, and said, “I’ve already told you that the job at the coatcompany is yours, and that’s that. As for anything else, well, mystudio will give you any other assignments that we feel you’requalified for. Look, almost all fashion models have done some nudes atsome point in their career. Most of those have at least done cheesecakestiff, if not actual porno. The things you’re going to do are highlyunlikely to be seen by anyone who sees your fashion stuff, and we’llmake sure that you look different enough in the nudes that nobody willever be sure it’s you.”Tom leaned toward me again, and finished by saying, “I’ve been scoutingdrag queens for a while looking for the right one. I have a reputationto maintain. I don’t use anyone in my shots that doesn’t look good, ormake me look good. You qualify on both points. If you can pull offgetting that job today, I know that you’ll make me look good, and asfar as your looks are concerned, well, you’re just pretty as apicture!”We both laughed at his little photographer’s pun. Somehow I trustedTom. He was only interested in my body as far as he could use it tomake money, and he was willing to share that with me in model andactress fees in a fair way. He was not like Irving and others like him,who only wanted my body to paw for their own pleasure even if, like thejohns I turned tricks with, they were willing to pay for the privilege.All Tom wanted was a business deal. That was something I could livewith.We finished our drinks, and Tom called for the tab. “I have to getgoing,” he said. “We’ll talk more about all of this when you come intothe studio for your test shots.” He paid the waitress, and we wentoutside again. “You’ve got it, you know. There’s just something aboutyou that makes you special. Not all models have that. Don’t ever loseit,” he said, and then stepped into the street to hail a cab. In amoment, he was gone, and I headed toward 5th Avenue to do that shoppingthat I had started out to do an hour or so ago.The crowds on 5th Avenue were at their height when I got there. It wasabout 5:30PM, and at that time of day all the offices had let out whilesome of the stores were still open. All of Manhattan’s office forcewere either making their way home, or shopping along with me. Night wasalready starting to creep in at the edges of the lengthening shadows oftwilight, so it would be dark in about an hour or so. I stepped into alingerie shop, and began to browse around.I was looking at a baby-blue lace nightie when I noticed a young manstaring at me. He was in his very early twenties or very late teens. Icould see that under the sweater and slacks that he was wearing, he wasslim with muscular limbs. He had a cute little baby face which smiledback at me when I looked at him.”Do you like this nightie?” I said to him to break the ice between us.”I’m always interested in a man’s opinion of such things.” He looked atthe whisp of nylon and lace, and answered, “I think you would lookbeautiful in it. My name’s Alan. What’s yours?””Bobbi,” I said as coyly as I could. “Well, Bobbi,” Alan said, “I coulddo with some dinner, but I hate eating alone. Would I be being tooforward if I asked you to join me?” The offer sounded good to me, so Iagreed. I just had to be careful. He was straight as far as I couldtell. It would not do for him to find out that I was not quite all thewoman he obviously thought I was.I took his arm, and we walked up 5th Avenue to a restaurant on 45thStreet just east of 8th Avenue. It was a nice evening for a walk, so wedid not bother with a taxi. Besides, all the talking we would do wouldlet us get to know each other better. Alan lived over in New Jersey,and was actually home on leave from the Army. It was not a good time tobe in the Army in those days of 1966, so I asked him what his nextassignment was going to be. “I have orders for Viet-Nam,” came hisanswer.As we talked more, I found out that he was going to a combat unit, andthat he was due to leave in two days. He did not seem scared, but therewas a definite uneasiness about him when we spoke of it then, or whenit came up later in conversation over dinner. This was his last nightin New York City before he left.We talked about a lot of things while we ate. He told me all about histraining, and what he did in the Army. He talked about what he wantedto do when he got out. I told him that I was a dancer and a model, butthat I was working in a department store while I got my careertogether. It was not a lie.I found myself liking Alan very much, and wanting to talk more to him.He suggested that we go for a walk after dinner, but I said, “No, Ithink that I would like to sit and talk for a while. We could go to myapartment near here, but just talk, okay?” Alan agreed, and promised tobe a gentleman. I wished that I did not have to ask him to be that way.I felt a physical attraction to him, but I dared not pursue that. Therewas no telling what a straight guy might do when he found somethingother than what he expected between my legs.We got up from our table, and I took Alan’s arm again. It only took afew minutes to walk to my apartment since it was only two blocks away.I hoped that he would enjoy just talking like this. The last night of asoldier’s leave before he went off to war should be something special.We went in, and I asked him to have a seat in the living room. He saton the sofa.”Would you like a drink or coffee?” I asked.He nodded, and said, “Sure, do you have any scotch?” I did, so I pouredtwo on the rocks, and carried them over to him. I handed one to him,and put mine on the coffee table. Then I took off my jacket, and joinedhim on the couch.”Cheers!” he said lifting his glass to me, and we both took a drink. Wecontinued our conversation from where we had left off. He told me allabout his plans for the future, and I felt myself warming even more tohim. I was so engrossed in listening to him that I did not notice thathe was inching closer to me until I realized that his arm was on theback of the sofa behind me.”You’re getting a little closer than we agreed we would get, aren’tyou?” I asked politely. Alan did not move, but said, “I’m sorry, but Ijust feel very attracted to you. I would like to get even closer.” Hiswords had a lot of affection in them, and I found myself wanting him toget closer too. It was crazy to think that I might pull this off toolike I had with the modeling job this afternoon. I wanted him to kissme, and a lot more, but if he found out that I was not as much of awoman as I presented myself to be, things could get ugly. Maybe all thedrinks, and the wine at dinner were clouding my thinking, but I thoughtI had a way to do even this. I leaned my head back against his arm,closed my eyes, and felt his lips press against mine.I know now how foolish it was to be doing this with a straight guy whodid not know what I was, but I just could not help myself. I felt hisarms enfold me, and we kissed some more. I only hoped that I could keepmy penis safely out of the way no matter how it was starting to hardenin its concealment.Then I felt his hand touch my breast, and my penis react in its tuckbetween my legs. He wanted more than a kiss, and I had to do something,so I said, “I’m having my period. We can’t do what you want to, but begentle, and maybe we’ll find a way.” His other hand undid the buttonsat the back of my blouse, and in a moment I wore only my bra above mywaist.”Okay,” I said, “let me get comfortable.” I stood, and unhooked my bra.My tiny breasts were not much at all, but Alan stood to suck on thenipples while I unzipped my skirt, and let it fall to the floor. He wassending little shivers of pleasure all through me with his sucking and nibbling. His arms about my middle felt so good and strong. I wasalmost beyond caring if he found out what I was or not. I only knewthat it felt good to be held and touched by him. He was still kissingme while I unbuckled his belt to let his slacks drop around his ankles.I went to my knees before him, and slowly pulled down his briefsexposing his hard, seven inch, circumcised cock in front of my face. Itook hold of his muscular thighs, and moved closer to it. I looked upinto his eyes, and he was smiling back at me. “I told you we would finda way,” I said softly to him. “We might not be able to do more thanthis because of my period, but I’ll make it good for you.” I turned myattention back to his cock placing a gentle kiss on the tip, andlicking all around the head. Alan shuddered in pleasure when I didthis, and my own little penis was throbbing like mad. I dare not eventhink of it having any release this time no matter how bad I was goingto need it. I would have to take care of that myself later.Alan sat down on the sofa again at my urging, and I took his cock in mymouth completely for the first time. It was hot, and it tasted ever sogood. He would not have a blow-job like this again for quite a while,so I gave him one of my best. I was also counting on getting him togive so much this way that he would forget about trying to do anythingelse with me. The story about my “period” would only go so far. If hertried to force himself on me, he was too strong for me to resist.I did all the things that I know best how to do with a man’s cock andballs. I licked the shaft and balls all over, taking his balls into mymouth one at a time to juggle them on my tongue. He shuddered inecstasy when I slipped the tip of my tongue into his pee-slit to tastethe drops of pre-cum that were waiting there for me to enjoy. I rakedmy nails gently over the hot crinkly flesh of his scrotum knowing fullwell from personal experience what that would feel like to him.At last I took the full length shaft of Alan’s cock into my mouth, andbegan to move my lips up and down as I worked it in and out of mymouth. I started out slowly letting him enjoy each stroke while Icontinued to play with his balls with my hand. Then I moved faster andfaster until he could hold out no longer, and rewarded me with a hugemouthful of hot, sticky, and salty cum. I drank it all down greedily,and then moved up on the sofa to sit next to him, and stroke his cockwhile it softened.We kissed, fondled, and cuddled a while longer, but soon he had toleave to catch a bus back to New Jersey where he lived. I would haveliked to have asked him to spend the night, but there was no way that Icould have concealed my penis from him for that long the way that Ifelt about him. It was best that he leave.He pulled his pants back up, but I stayed in just my panties,garterbelt, stockings, and heels. He looked at me in the way that a manlooks at a real woman, for that was what I was to him. I had pulled offgetting the job today, and I had pulled being seduced by a straight manoff tonight. I was sure that things would not always go this well, butI was extatic with myself that night. It all went to just confirmingthat I was the woman that I knew I was, and that nothing should standin my way to the goal of being all the woman I could be. I vowed thatnothing would!Alan kissed me as he left, and I gave him my address and telephonenumber. He wrote to me from Viet-Nam for about five months, and thenthe letters just stopped. I wrote to his company commander asking if hewas all right. In return, I got a letter from the unit Chaplain tellingme that Alan would write to me no more. He had stepped on a mine, andwas killed outright. I cried for him. I only hoped that he had enjoyedhis last night on leave.Sub-title: What the Doctor OrderedIt was morning, and I was awake in my bed. The alarm clock had not yetgone off, but light was peeking in through the window. I stretched tostart to work the sleep from my body, and let memories of Alan from thenight before slide gently through my mind. If I could have had my way,I would have turned over to nestle in his strong arms this morning, buthe was not lying next to me. He could not be. He was straight, andthought me the same. He was not the sort of man who would havewillingly woken up with a drag queen like me in his arms.I glanced over at the clock, and saw that it was just before eighto’clock. This was late for me to be getting up on a Wednesday morning,but today was not an ordinary day. I had an appointment to see Dr.Benjamin at ten-thirty to discuss the possibility of SexualReassignment Surgery (SRS) for me. Today could finally start me on theway to becoming what I really wanted to be: a woman!I swung my legs off the bed, and sat up just as the alarm went off. Istopped it, and heard the sounds of Margo puttering about in thekitchen making breakfast. I put a robe on over my nightie, and went tojoin her. I could use some coffee right now.Margo was sitting at the table drinking coffee and smoking a cigarettewhen I got there. “Well,” she said, “so you finally got up. I thoughtyou were going to sleep all day.” I poured myself some coffee, andanswered, “No, I just took a day off from work. I thought I told you Iwas seeing the doctor today?””You did,” she said. “I was just needling you. You’re going to seeabout getting your cock cut off. I still say that you should think hardabout that. I understand what you want, but that’s not as easy as itsounds.” Margo and I had talked about this before. “I know that it’snot easy,” I said, “but I have thought about it. If nothing else, Ihave to talk to him to get more information. He isn’t going to do ittoday in his office, you know.”Margo got a concerned look on her face, and said, “I know that, butit’s just that… Well, I feel sort of responsible for you. I was the one who got you out in drag in public. You have done very well on yourown up to now, and I just don’t want to see you get hurt. That’s all.”I had only rarely seen this side of Margo. I looked on her as a sort ofsister, but I was never sure how she really felt toward me. “I know,” Isaid, “and I appreciate that. I’ll make you a deal. I will not agree tosurgery of any sort without talking it over with you first. Okay?” Thatseemed to satisfy her for the moment, and the conversation moved to other things.”How did the interview go yesterday?” Margo asked. “Great!” I answered.”I got the job!” I’m just so excited about it. They’re going to becalling me in for test shots next week, and the studio I’m going to beworking for says they may have some other assignments for me too.” Idid not tell her about the pornography yet. I wanted to see whatdeveloped first. “Wonderful!” said Margo. “I hope it works out for you.You’ve come a long way.””Aren’t you going to work?” I asked knowing that she was usuallygetting dressed by now. “No,” she answered, “I only got in aboutseventhirty. I called Joe, and told him I was sick. I’ll have to blowhim twice this week to make up for it, but honey, this black stud thatreamed out my ass with his cock all last night was worth it! Ten inchesof the hottest and hardest black meat that I have ever had!” We went ontalking about her stud.”Well,” I said at last, “I have to get ready for the doctor. Maybe I’llsee you when I get home?” Margo took a puff of her cigarette, and said,”Yeah, I should be here. I’m just going to bed. I didn’t get much sleeplast night.” I smiled. “No, I guess you didn’t,” I said. “I’m surprisedyou can sit from the way you’re talking.””Well,” said Margo, “it ain’t easy, honey! Did you get any yourselflast night?” I thought again about Alan, and said, “Why yes, I did. Imet this cute straight guy, so I told him I had my period, and couldonly suck him off. It was very nice.”Margo got a very strange look on her face, and said, “A straight guy?Honey, you better watch out about playing in that world until thatdoctor does cut your dick off! You might get a guy who won’t takekindly to getting his pee-pee licked by what he considers a faggot!”She was right. I had taken a chance with Alan, but it had been worthit. I assured her that I would be careful. “Okay,” she said, “I don’twant to see my little sister all beaten up or worse!” Margo went off tobed, and I started to get ready for the doctor. Margo cared more than Ihad thought.I cleared the breakfast dishes, and went to the bathroom for a shower.That only took a few minutes, and I was back in my bedroom. I needed tolook as much like a real woman as possible today too, so I chose what Iwould wear carefully. I dipped into my lingerie drawer, and slid a pairof white satin panties with lace panels at the sides up over my legs. Ireached down, and pulled my penis back as far as it would stretch intoits tuck in my crotch. I did not want any bulges showing.I took out a matching white satin and lace push-up bra, and fitted mytiny breasts into the cups for maximum effect. Then hooked a whitesatin garter-belt around my waist, and attached a pair of sheerstockings to it. I chose a dark green silk dress with a small yellowfloral pattern. The dress had short sleeves with only a slight scoop tothe neckline and back, and the skirt fell to just below my knees. Iwanted to look pretty, but not too sexy. Modestly, I put on a whitesatin full-slip with lace trim under the dress.I put on my green eye make-up, but used a bright shade of pink for mynail polish and lipstick. The dress had a black patent leather belt, soI wore my black patent leather pumps with the four inch heels, and ablack patent leather handbag.It was almost quarter of ten by the time I was finished, so I took outmy black jacket, and headed out the door. My heels clicked happily onthe pavement as I walked up to 8th Avenue to find a taxi, but inside Iwas nervous as a kitten. I was going, at last, to see the doctor aboutcompleting my transformation from male to female, but that scared me.It is bad enough to be in need of an operation to correct a medicalproblem, but it is quite another thing to ask for one when you areotherwise healthy. Surgery is frightening under the best ofcircumstances.I did need this operation! I might not have a medical condition thatmost people would recognize, but the disfigurement of that useless lumpof flesh between my legs was as real a medical condition to me as anyother. That is what most people fail to understand about transsexuals.We look on the body parts of the sex into which we are born asdisfiguring. They are like ugly tumors that need to be removed to allowus to feel comfortable with our bodies. If the people who criticizetranssexuals had a condition that they considered was making themappear ugly, or in a manner in which they did not want to appear, theywould seek medical attention to have it corrected. It is no differentwith transsexuals. We do not feel comfortable with the condition of ourbodies, and simply want to correct it.I hailed a taxi on 8th Avenue, and slid into the back seat. The driverlooked at me in his mirror, but my skirt was a little too long to givehim a show this time. I just told him where I wanted to go, and satback to compose myself as we rode. I tried to imagine what the doctorwould do today. I knew that he would not do any surgery, but what wouldhe do? I was sure that he would want to examine me, but how much of anexamination? What questions would he ask? How should I answer them?Would he even agree to do the surgery at all?There were no guarantees in this. Just because I wanted the operationdid not mean that the doctor would do it. I had heard about some girlswho had gone as far away as Morocco to have the surgery done when theywere turned down here. I could not afford to do that. I was not evensure I could afford to have the operation done here. The doctor’soffice was near 70th Street off of Central Park West, so I had time tothink and worry about all of this. My nerves were all on edge when thecab finally stopped.I stood for a long moment in front of the door to the doctor’s officebefore I took a deep breath, and turned the knob. Inside it looked likeany other doctor’s office. There were chairs, a potted plant or two,and the obligatory piled of old magazines. A man and a woman occupiedtwo of the chairs. They did not look like transsexuals, but thedoctor’s regular practice was in plastic surgery, so I assumed thatthey were there for something involving that. I gave my name to thereceptionist, and took a seat.I was only waiting for a few minutes when a nurse appeared at the doorto the inner office, and said, “Bobbi? Will you come with me?” I stood,and followed her through the door. There was a long hallway inside witha number of examination rooms off it. She directed me into one that hada desk and an examination table in it. There was also a table full ofmedical equipment, and a changing screen in one corner. “Sit down,” shesaid, “and Dr. Benjamin will be with you soon.” She left, and I satdown to wait.The wait was not long, but it seemed like hours. I must have read allthe diplomas on the wall a dozen times out of just sheer nervousnessbefore I heard the door to the office open, and someone come in. Iturned to see a late middle-aged man walking toward the desk. He wasnot tall, was balding, and had a slight paunch around his mid-section,but the grey around his temples, the strong features of his face, andthe air of authority about him made it appear that I could trust himwith my life. That was, after all, what I was about to do. “Bobbi?” hesaid extending his hand in greeting, “I’m Dr. Benjamin.”I shook his hand without standing up, and adjusted my skirt to get morecomfortable. Dr. Benjamin immediately made a note in my file aftershaking my hand, and then sat behind the desk to look me over. We satthat way in silence for a few minutes while he seemed to be examiningme all over before he asked, “How long have you been living as awoman?” I cleared my throat, and answered, “About three months.” Hemade a note in the file, and then asked, “How long have you been atransvestite?””About three and a half years,” I replied, and this was also noted inthe file.”Bobbi,” Dr. Benjamin began, “what you are asking is not easy, but fromwhat I’ve seen so far of you, I think I can help you. I do not seeanything about you that tells me that you are not as you presentyourself. We need to do a lot more first, but we can proceed if youwish. I assume you are ready?” My heart was pounding. Dr. Benjamin wasagreeing to get me started toward what I wanted. I could hardly believeit! As calmly as I could, I answered, “Yes, doctor. I’m ready tostart.”Dr. Benjamin sat back in his chair, and said, “We have a great deal todo, and you are going to have to trust me all the way through it. I’lltell you anything you need to know about any of it, but you are goingto have to cooperate. You must do everything I tell you to do. Can youdo that?””Yes,” I answered. “Will you trust me?” he asked.”I trust you,” I replied. “I just said I’ll do exactly what the doctorordered.” I was on my way.”Good,” Dr. Benjamin said. “Then I need to examine you further. The examination had to be very detailed and personal. Please stand up, andwalk around the office for me.” I stood, and put my purse and jacket onthe other chair. I walked up and down the office, and did a couple ofmodeling turns for the doctor while he made notes in my file. “Pleaseremove your dress and slip for me,” he asked. This surprised me alittle, but the circumstances and the look on the doctor’s face keptthe situation on a clinical level, and completely non-sexual. I did asI was asked.I stood before Dr. Benjamin in just bra, panties, garter-belt,stockings, and heels, and he looked me over carefully making notes allthe time. He asked me to walk again for him, and after I had done so,he said, “Go behind the screen, and take off all your clothes. Put onthe gown you’ll find back there, and come out here.” I did as I wastold, and soon I was completely naked except for my make-up and heels.I put on the gown, and returned to Dr. Benjamin who was standing by theexamination table.”Please get up on the table, and put your feet in the stirrups,” Dr.Benjamin asked, but you’ll have to take off your shoes.” The stirrupswere little heel pockets on the ends of two metal arms that extendedfrom the lower corners of the table. I stepped out of my shoes, and didas requested. The metal of the stirrups was a little cold, but thatdiscomfort did not last for long. I was in the same position as anywoman having a gynecological examination.Dr. Benjamin pulled a stool over to the end of the table between mylegs. He sat on it, and said, “Now, I’m just going to have a look at afew things. This isn’t going to hurt.” My penis had popped out of it’stuck when I had spread my legs to get into the stirrups. Dr. Benjamintook my penis between his fingers, and I could feel him stretch it outeven though I could not see him from the position I was in. He turnedit a few times, and then did the same with my scrotum and balls.Normally when a man did that I would get sexually excited, but histouch was very clinical. Even so, my penis moved a little at the touch.I tried not to let it react too much.I was glad when he stopped that part of the examination, and stood up.He pulled back the gown, and went over the rest of my body paying someparticular attention to my tiny breasts. “Please stand up, and removethe gown,” he said. I was soon completely nude, and the doctor had mewalk for him again. I stopped, and stood naked in front of the deskwhile he made even more notes in my file.Dr. Benjamin looked over my nude body once again, and said, “Please putthe gown back on, and sit down.” I did as he asked. The office was alittle chilly, and I was glad to have even the meager clothing of thegown back on again. Dr. Benjamin continued making notes in the file asI sat in front of his desk. I wondered what he had found in hisexamination, but I could not read what he was writing from where I sat.I was excited over the prospect of getting this started, and I did notwant anything holding it back now.At last Dr. Benjamin finished his notes. He sat back in his chair, andsaid, “We have a lot to do here, but I see nothing that would preventus from going further. Despite your male sexual organs, your body has alot of female confirmation to it. The way you act, move, and look ismore like a woman than a man, and that tells me that you are in someway serious about this. We will have to do a full physical work-up onyou, and my nurse will do that when we are finished here. There aresome other things we have to do too. I assume that you want to startright away?” There was nothing else on my mind! “What do I have to do?”I asked.”Well, Bobbi,” Dr. Benjamin began, “this is not a short process. Itwill take two to three years to complete the program. Are you workingas a woman now?” I did not understand why he was asking this, but Itold him about my job as a stockboy at the department store, and aboutthe modeling job. He looked thoughtful for a moment.Dr. Benjamin then gave me the whole story, saying, “We have both legaland psychological requirements to consider along with the medical. Thelaw requires that you prove you can live as a woman before I can beginany surgery. That means that you must both live and work as a woman forone full year first. You will also have to undergo psychologicalcounseling all during that time. I have an associate, Dr. Stearns, whois a psychologist, and works with me on cases like yours. I’ll give youhis card. You should see him as soon as possible.”Dr. Benjamin gave me Dr. Stearns card, and then said, “You should alsohave a lawyer. There will be things to do like legally changing yourname, and filing papers to attempt to change your sexual status legallythat you will need a lawyer to help you with. I can refer you to twolawyers who have handled such things in the past for my patients. Itold you that this would not be easy. Do you still want to go on?”I knew that the process of changing sex was complicated, but this wasthe first time I had been confronted with all of it at once. It all butoverwhelmed me, but I was not turning back now. “I’ll do whatever Ihave to do,” I replied.”All right,” Dr. Benjamin said. “Then the next step is for my nurse todo the medical work-up on you. Fill out these forms, and I’ll send herin.” I stopped him, and said, “Doctor, a friend of mine had you dobreast implants for her. Do I have to wait a year for that too?””Who was that?” he asked, and I told him that it was Tina.”Tina was a different case from you,” Dr. Benjamin said. “She didn’twant the whole program, and only asked about implants. I think I wouldrather do something else for you. If you sign a consent form, we canstart you on hormone therapy today. The hormones will cause yournatural breasts to develop, and let your body make some other changes.You may, however, experience some dizziness a few hours after the shot,you cannot drink alcohol for twenty-four hours after it, and you mayexperience a lessened sexual desire and response. You will need oneinjection a week for the foreseeable future. We would have to do thisanyway once we started the surgery, but the effects will reversethemselves if we stop, so we can start it now without any legalproblems. Do you want to start?”That was an easy question. “Yes!” I answered.”You’re almost too agreeable,” he said with a laugh. “All right, afterwe have your medical done, I’ll calculate the dosage, and give you yourfirst shot. Then I’ll have to see you each week for boosters.” He leftthe room, and I waited for the nurse.A few minutes later, she arrived, and I was back on the examinationtable getting my medical work-up done. She did it all, including bloodand urine samples, quickly, and then said, “You can get dressed now,Miss,” as she left. I had not expected to be addressed as “Miss” bysomeone who had seen me as completely naked as the nurse had, but Iguessed that having done cases like mine before, she had said it as asort of reassuring courtesy. I know that hearing it pleased me a lot. Idressed as fast as I could in my excitement, and awaited the doctor’sreturn.Instead of the doctor, the nurse came back with a syringe. She rubbedmy arm with alcohol, and gave me the shot. I left the office, and madean appointment with the receptionist for the following Wednesdayevening to get my next shot. It would become a regular Wednesday ritualfrom then on. I was on my way to becoming a woman in every waypossible.It was such a nice day when I got outside, that I decided to take awalk in Central Park on the way home. I was in no hurry. It was almostnoon, and Margo would still be asleep. I really had nothing else to dotoday. I thought about going shopping. I really like doing that when Ihave little else to do, but the weather was just too nice to be insideon this early autumn day. It was too late to call Edith about havinglunch, so I settled for walking across the park to visit the zoo.The late September air was still tinged with the warmth of summer, soit was pleasant to wander amid the trees and grass of Central Parkmaking my way to the zoo. It was also pleasant to feel the eyes of someof the men that I passed upon me. I had tried not to dress too sexytoday because of my visit to the doctor, but I still drew my share oflooks and turned heads. I wondered what those men would say if theyknew that I had a penis tucked demurely away between my legs under myskirt, but I also remembered that, with the help of Dr. Benjamin, Iwould soon rectify that situation. I imagined that I could already feelthe hormone shot his nurse had given me working on changing my body,but that would take a lot longer to do its job than the few minutesthat had passed since I had it.The zoo was its usual hub of activity when I arrived. I paused in frontof a number of cages to peer in at the inhabitants. I love a****ls, andI could not help thinking that I shared something with the ones here inthe zoo. They too were trapped in their cages much the same way that Iwas trapped in this body. They could not change their status, but I hadnow made a start at changing mine. That last thought made me feel verygoo inside.I decided to buy a hot dog for lunch from one of the vendors, but as Iwas fumbling in my purse for the money to pay him, I dropped my walletand some other things on the ground. I started to bend down to pickthen up, and found myself face to face with a policeman who was holdingout my wallet in his hand. “I believe this is yours, Miss?” he said ina deep voice.I took the wallet from him saying, “Uhh… Thank you, officer,” as hebent down to retrieve my compact and other things. “You have to becareful with your wallet here. Thieves would consider a pretty girllike you an easy mark,” he said as he put my things in my hand. Myfingers brushed his as I took my compact from him. They were as strongas the rest of him also appeared to be. He was in his mid-twenties,about six feet four inches tall, and had broad muscular shoulders fromwhich his body tapered down through a taunt mid-section to a slimwaist. His bushy red hair topped a broad, handsome, Irish face that wasa pleasure to look up into. My little penis twitched a bit as I juststood and stared.”Yes,” I said gaining a grip on the situation, “but that’s why wecitizens have the strong arm of the law around to protect us.” I wasflirting with him, and he picked right up on it. “Well, you know wehave to file a report on all incidents, so I’ll have to ask you a fewquestions,” he said taking out his pad and pen. “Name?” I smiledsweetly, and decided to play along. “Bobbi,” I replied. “That’s apretty name,” he said. “Mine’s Brian. Telephone number?” I thoughtabout holding back somehow on this, but the gaze of his deep green eyeswas hypnotic. I had given him my telephone number almost before I hadrealized it.”Well, Bobbi,” he said as I took a bite of my hot dog, “that’s all Ineed for now, but I might have to call you for more information later.”I swallowed a bit of hot dog, and said, “You can call me anytime youlike, Officer Brian. It’s a pleasure to be under your protection.” Iwas pushing it. Flirting shamelessly with a straight Irish cop was nota good idea, but I was just feeling very playful. I guessed that Icould always just turn him down if he called me for a date. I justenjoyed having the attention of a handsome man, and what girl would notenjoy that?We talked for a couple of minutes, and I told him about my aspirationsto a career as a dancer and a model. Then a couple of other policemenappeared in the distance walking toward us. “Well,” said Brian, “that’smy sergeant. I have to go back to the station, and go off duty. I’llcall you for that information, okay?” I smiled up at him almosttowering above me, and said, “Sure. Bye-bye!” I turned, and walked awaywith a wiggle in my hips for his benefit. I was sure that he waswatching. I wondered if he would tell his sergeant, so he could watchtoo.I caught a cab outside of the zoo, and went home. Margo was still inbed when I got there, so I just got a soda from the refrigerator,kicked off my shoes, and settled down to watch a soap opera on the newcolor television that Margo had bought. The hormones were alreadymaking me tired.Margo finally got up around three o’clock. She got a beer for herself,and joined me in the living room. “How did it go with the doctor?” sheasked as she set down her beer after a long first drink, and lit acigarette. “Pretty good,” I answered. “He said that he would considerme for surgery if I can pass all the legal and psychological tests, buthe agreed to start me on the hormones right away. I got my first shotalready.” Margo looked a little concerned, and said, “Those things willknock the hell out of you if you’re not careful. I was on then all lastyear, and they had me all messed up. That’s why I have trouble gettinga hardon now.”I did not know Margo had taken hormones, so I asked, “What doctor didyou go to?””Oh,” she replied, “I didn’t get them from a doctor. Jimmy Treetops atthe bar does it, and he only charges half what the doctors do. A lot ofthe girls get them from him.” Jimmy “Treetops” was a guy who hung outat “The Gilded G****” and some Gay bars in the area. He got hisnickname because he was about six feet eight inches tall. He was somesort of medical technician at a hospital from which he stole the d**gswhich he sold for extra income. I did not like him.”Wouldn’t it have been better to go to a real doctor?” I asked. “Maybeso,” answered Margo taking another drink of her beer, “but I didn’t.Just be careful. I don’t want you going out, and getting hurt.” Margowas getting back into her sisterly mood again. I rather liked her thatway. She always seemed so hard and tough all the time. It was nice toknow there was another side to her.I did not tell Margo about Brian. After how she had admonished me thismorning about Alan, I did not want another lecture on the perils offlirting with straight men. She was just about to say something whenthe telephone rang. I got up to answer it, and a female voice on theother end identified herself as Tom’s secretary from the photographystudio. “We’d like to set up an appointment for you to come in for testshots,” she said. “I understand that you work full-time, so what daywould be good for you? We’d prefer not to do it in the evening.” I hadjust had my days off changed to Sunday and Monday, so I suggested thenext Monday. “That would be fine,” the voice said. “Could you make a9:30AM appointment?” I said I could, and she ended the conversation.”What was that all about?” asked Margo as I returned to my chair. Itold her, and she said, “You sure are getting into a lot of things.Don’t go, and burn yourself out. Are you coming to the bar with metonight?” I was feeling very tired which I supposed was part of theeffect of the hormones doing their work. “No,” I said with a sigh, “Idon’t feel up to it tonight. I think I’ll just stay here.” Margo lookedat me with an indifferent look on her face, and said, “Suit yourself.I’m going to take a shower.”Margo was just leaving the room when the telephone rang again. Shepicked up the receiver, and said, “Hello?… Who?… Yes, she’s here.Just a minute.” She held her hand over the mouthpiece, turned to me,and said, “It’s for you. Somebody named Peter?”I sprang from my chair, and grabbed the telephone from Margo. Shecontinued on her way to the shower, and I put the receiver to my earnervously saying, “Hello?” A familiar voice came back, and said,”Bobbi? Hi, doll! I told you I’d call. How are you doing?”We chatted pleasantly about nothing for a minute or two, and then heasked, “What are you doing Saturday night? I thought maybe we couldhave dinner, and see a movie.” That was what I had hoped he would say.”Sure!” I replied trying not to appear too anxious. “I have to workpart of the day, but that isn’t a problem. What time?””Well,” he said, “what if I pick you up at six-thirty? We could have anearly dinner, and then go to a movie.” I told him that it was fine withme, and the date was made.We talked for a minute or two more until at last he said, “I guess Ishould get back to work here now, doll. I’ll see you on Saturday atsix-thirty.””Okay,” I said, “I’ll be waiting. Bye-bye!”Margo left for the bar around six o’clock. I told her about my datewith Peter, and she said, “Okay, s*s. I get the message. I’ll plan onleaving the apartment to you that night, and sleep somewhere else.” Istarted to say that it was not necessary for her to do that, but shesaid, “No, you need to be alone with your lover the first time.” Thenshe left. Deep down, I really wanted to be alone with Peter.I changed into my warm flannel night gown and fuzzy robe and slippersto curl up on the sofa to watch television. Lots of thoughts ranthrough my head that night. I thought about Dr. Benjamin and what hewas about to do for me, but mostly I thought of Peter. I could hardlywait for Saturday night.Lunch with Edith the next day was a buzz of conversation. She wanted toknow all about what had happened with the doctor, and I was eager toshare all the details with her. She seemed fascinated with hearing allthe things that I would have to do on my way to becoming all the womanthat I could be, and would not let me leave out a single bit of thestory. Just before we left the Coffee Shop she said, “You have quite alot to do, but I want you to know that I’m here if you need me. Don’tbe afraid to ask anything at all of me. That’s what mothers are for.” Ithanked her for that. I knew I would probably need some help from heralong the way, but I did not yet know how much help I would need fromher later.Margo too had a little announcement of her own on Thursday night. I wassitting in the living room while she was getting dressed to go to “TheGilded G****” as she did almost every night. She came into the room,and said, “I won’t be here when you come home tomorrow. Uncle Charlieis taking me and Carol up to his place in Connecticut for the weekend,and we won’t be back until Sunday night, so you have the place all toyourself all weekend. Have fun!”Carol was another drag queen from the bar. She and Margo were drinkingbuddies, and sometimes turned tricks together. Carol was also very muchinto the B&D/S&M scene as a Drag Dominatrix. Uncle Charlie was a man inhis late forties who came to “The Gilded G****” once in a while. He hada big penthouse apartment with his wife in the City, and a secluded”summer” home in Connecticut. He liked to take some of the girls upthere for all weekend fuck and suck outings. I think his wife knewabout it, but tolerated it to stay close to his money. She probably hadher own group of studs to play with in the penthouse while he was gone.Friday was a quiet day at work, and promised to be a quiet night athome too. I decided to go to the bar on my own that night after danceclass just to see what was happening, but when I got home the phone wasringing. I hurried to answer it, and Paul’s voice on the other endsaid, “Bobbi? So there you are. I’m around the corner at the, err…bar, and I was wondering if I could, err… see you tonight. My wifewent out for a while, so I, err… can’t stay long. Could I, err…come over?” I knew what he wanted to come over for, but I had agreed tothis sort of relationship, and he was entitled to “collect” for thefavor he had done me with the modeling job. I said yes.I knew that Paul would not waste any time in getting here, so I hadonly a few minutes to get ready for him. I went into my bedroom,stripped completely, and turned down the bed. I grabbed a black lacebra with matching garter-belt and panties, and put them on with thegarters under the panties, so the panties could come off withoutdisturbing the garter-belt. A pair of black, fishnet stockings and myblack patent leather pumps completed the outfit. I was just fresheningmy make-up when the doorbell rang.I buzzed Paul in, and waited for him to come up in the elevator. Hiseyes got very wide when I opened the door for him in just my lingerie.The door swung closed behind him as I put my arms around his neck, andsaid, “I got the job! Thank you,” and kissed him full on the lips. Hishands went right to my crotch, and started feeling about for my littlepenis. I spread my legs to let him get a good feel of it, and then ledthe way into the bedroom.Paul was naked, except for his socks, in seconds, and I stepped out ofmy panties without taking off anything else. We got onto the bed, andagain he reached for my penis to play with it. I did not really likewhen he did that because I did not like to be reminded that I still hada penis at times like these, but it gave him pleasure. I immediatelywent down on him using all of my best blow-job techniques, but blowjobswere the only sort of sex that we had ever had together, and I reallywanted him to fuck me.After a few minutes of sucking him, I lay on my back, and reached forthe Vaseline. Paul got a bright glint in his eyes, and moved to hisknees to get ready. I applied the lubricant to my ass, and slid apillow under my hips to raise my bottom to receive him better. Hemounted me, and placed his prick at the opening of my anus. With onefirm thrust he buried his cock to the hilt deep into my waiting ass.Paul might have left many other things to be desired in him, but Paulcould fuck! He started by ramming his hard and hot meat in and out ofme with all the power he could, and did not let up all the time he wasin me. It felt like I had a pile driver up my ass, but it felt goodtoo. He pinned me to the bed with his weight, and held my wrists downall the time he fucked me.Then Paul stiffened all over, took a deep gasp of air, and held it. Ifelt his cock spasm inside of me, and the slow oozing flow of cum thatwas his trademark filling up my bowels with his hot semen. He held thatway for a very long time gasping and moaning all the way through it. Atlast I knew what it was like to be fucked by Paul, and I liked what Iwas feeling. I wondered if he would always be in this sort of rush whenwe had sex.Paul had to get home to his wife, so he only spent a little while lyingin bed cuddling me, and playing with my penis after he had fucked me.He went to the bathroom to clean his cock, and then dressed quickly. Wetalked a little about the modeling job while he dressed, and I posed insome sexy positions for him. He kissed me again on the way out, andhanded me a plain, white, sealed envelope. “Don’t open it until I’m,err… gone,” he said. Then he left, and I stared at the envelope.I put the envelope that Paul had given me on the coffee table, and wentto the bathroom to clean up. I was curious to know what was in it, butPaul had filled me with quite a load of cum, and it was already seepingout of my ass. I did not want any stains on the chairs. I let as muchof it drip out as I could while sitting on the toilet. Then a few quickshots of douche up there with the enema ball, and a minute or two moreon the toilet finished the job. It was a technique that every dragqueen should learn early on. Good personal hygiene counts for a lot,but even more preventative measures are necessary today. A quick douchewas enough in 1966, but I always carry a packet of condoms in my pursenow just in case the guy I am interested in has forgotten his.It was only about nine o’clock, so there was still lots of time to popdown to the bar for a quick drink, and some local gossip. I went to thebedroom, and put my panties back on, re-hooking my garters andstockings over them, so they were more comfortable. I dressed in aplain black dress. Every woman still needs a “little black dress” inher wardrobe. You can accessorize it in any way you like, and createlots of different looks. I chose my favorite pearl jewelry with blackpatent leather belt, purse, and pumps. Blue eye make-up and dark-redlipstick topped off the look.Then I remembered Paul’s envelope, and sat in a living room chair toopen it. Inside was a typed note that read, “Bobbi, I do not know if Iwill have the time to tell you this tonight, so this note shouldexplain things. I have resigned my position at the department store,and am taking a new job as Director of Personnel for a large soapmanufacturing company on Park Avenue. I will have full charge of allpersonnel in their New York City offices. I start on Monday, so youwill not see me at the store anymore. The new job gives me a heftyraise in pay, but is going to keep me very busy for a month or so. Iwill probably not be able to see you during that time. I will call youin a week, and we can talk more then. Love, Paul. P.S.: Buy yourselfsomething nice with what I enclose.” In the envelope with the note werefive brand new twenty dollar bills. Paul had left me one-hundreddollars.A man is supposed to do nice things for his kept woman, but this wasmore than nice. Back then, one-hundred dollars represented quite a bitmore money than it even does now. I guessed that he could afford itwith his new job. I knew then exactly what to do with it. I wrote”Surgery Fund” on the envelope, and put it in the bottom of my lingeriedrawer. A week or so later, I opened a savings account at the bank withthe money, and kept the bank book with the note in the envelope. Iadded more money to the account as time went on, but it was Paul’scontribution that had started it. After all, he had said to buysomething nice with it. I could not think of anything nicer to buy thanmy total femininity.I went out to “The Gilded G****” after putting away the money. Theplace was in its usual Friday night flurry of activity. I ordered a Ginand Tonic from Edie at the front bar, and then saw Patty sitting aloneat a table. I went over to her.”I was wondering if you were going to be here tonight,” Patty said as Isat down. “You just missed Margo. She and Carol left with Uncle Charlieand his new chauffeur. You should see this one! He’s an even biggerhunk than his last chauffeur. He looks like a bodybuilder.” UncleCharlie had a reputation for his chauffeurs. He changed them aboutevery six months, and they were always hunky and Gay. Uncle Charlie wasinto more than just drag queens.”Yes,” I replied. “They’re all going up to his summer place for theweekend.” Patty lit a cigarette, and said, “Lucky ladies! Old UncleCharlie ain’t much, but that chauffeur can park his boots under my bedany time he wants. Toni was in earlier. She asked me to tell you thatthere’s a rehearsal on Tuesday at seven o’clock. She wants to do a shownext Saturday night. She’s going to do a solo number in it too.”We talked about that for a while, and made a lot of other girl talktoo. A few of the guys eyed us up, and I probably could have turned acouple of tricks for cash, bit I was just not in the mood for that. Ilet one of them buy me a drink, and talked with him. Patty went to thehotel with the other one, and made thirty dollars for it.I finally went home about one o’clock in the morning. Maybe it was thehormones, but I was feeling very tired. A lot had happened that week,but what was really on my mind now was what was yet to come. My datewith Peter was just tomorrow night, and I dreamed of that as I slept.Saturday morning came at last. The only problem was that I had to go towork. My days off had changed to Sunday and Monday as of that week, butthat is the way it is in retail. I really wanted to spend the dayprimping myself for Peter, but I got myself together to trudge off tothe store for a day in the stockroom. The store was busy that day, butI floated through my work on a cloud. Edith was off on Saturdays, so Ijust had lunch on my own in the store cafeteria. All I could think ofwas Peter.The store closed at three o’clock on Saturdays, and I hurried down tobe one of the first to punch out. I practically flew home, for I was onsuch a high from thoughts of my date tonight that I’m sure my feet didnot even touch the ground. Once in the apartment, I immediately got outof the male clothing that I loathed so much, and into my long satinrobe. That made me feel a lot better, and I sat for a while that way inthe living room before getting dressed.There would be no quick shower for me today. This was a special day,and demanded something equally special in the toilette department. Ihad bought some strawberry scented bath oil, and treated myself to abubble bath with it. I stayed in the tub for a very long time justletting the bubbles wash away the feelings of the previous part of theday spent in my male job. I had to find a way to change that. Afterall, that was what the doctor ordered.It was almost five-thirty when I finally got out of the tub. Peterwould be here soon, so I had to get dressed. I had gone so far as tobuy new lingerie for tonight. There was a padded, pink, lace, push-upbra with matching pink garter-belt, and pink lace panties. I slid on mysheerest stockings, and did an all over spray of cologne before Icontinued dressing. I dabbed some perfume of the same scent as thecologne at the back of my knees before pulling my stockings up, and didthe same behind my ears, at my wrists, in my tiny bit of cleavage, andon my thighs. I even put a naughty drop of perfume in my navel just tobe playful. Over all of this went a pink lace full-slip.My dress was new too, and of a clingy, pale pink, jersey material. Theneckline was a deep enough “V” to show just a hint of cleavage, and theback dipped to expose some of my shoulder blades. There were littlecapped sleeves at the shoulders. The skirt was straight lined, and cameto just above my knees. The dress had a white patent leather belt, andI had a white patent leather purse with white patent leather pumps withfour inch heels to go with it. Of course I also wore my white pearls.By six-fifteen I was ready for Peter. I did not have long to wait.The doorbell rang about five minutes later, and very nervously, Ianswered it. “Hi, doll,” came Peter’s voice through the intercom fromdownstairs, “are you ready?” That was a silly question, but a ladyalways keeps a man waiting just a little bit. I do not know why. Maybeit keeps their interest up, but it is part of the game. “Almost,” Icalled back through the speaker, “so come on up, and we can leave in aminute.” I pushed the button to buzz him in.I did not really have anything else to do to get ready, but there is asort of choreography to a date. A sort of mating dance that, if donecorrectly, will give the highest level of satisfaction and enjoyment toboth of the dancing partners. This little sham of not being quite readywas one of the mandatory steps in the dance. I could not leave it outno matter how anxious I was.I used the time to pop back into my bedroom, and do a quick check tomake sure that everything was on correctly and straight. My heart beganthumping again when the upstairs doorbell rang. Peter had arrived!I checked one more time to be sure that my skirt was straight, andopened the door. Peter looked so handsome standing there in his darkblue sports jacket and grey slacks that I started thinking aboutforgetting the date, and just falling into his arms. The twinkle in hiseye when he looked at me said very clearly that he was thinking thesame thing. That, however, was not one of the steps that was done atthis point in the mating dance. That was to be saved for the finale.”You look great, doll!” Peter said exuberantly. “Shall we go?” I hadexpected at least a kiss on the cheek in greeting after the passionatescene that we had made at the apartment door the night he walked mehome, but Peter made no such move toward me. I had assumed that hewould have been anxious to hold me in his arms, and kiss me. Most womenwho look like I do have to fight off the attentions of their men, buthere was a man whose arms I wanted to be in, who appeared to be holdingback. Why?I picked up my white lace shawl, and handed it to Peter. He put itaround me, and for just a second, rested his hands on my shoulders.That felt very good, but did not last for long. Surely he knew that hecould have all of me that night. Why was he holding back?There was a famous steak restaurant on 8th Avenue near 44th Street, andPeter announced that we were going there for dinner. It was only threeblocks from where I lived, so we walked. Summer had just officiallyended, but the chill of Autumn had not yet found the air. It waspleasant to walk with my arm crooked in his. I still drew looks fromall the men we passed, but now these stares of lechery at me ended witha look of envy toward Peter. They all were wishing that they were inhis place.After dinner, Peter hailed a cab outside of restaurant, and we were offto the Criterion Theater in Times Square to see a movie. I asked Peterwhy he had gotten a taxi since the theater was only about five blocksaway, and it was no faster than walking with all the mid-town trafficthat we had to get through. “Well, doll,” he said, ” this is our firstreal date, and I wanted it to be special for you.” He made me feel verygood by saying that.I really do not remember what movie was playing that night except thatit was some sort of love story. That suited my mood just fine. The moretime I spent with Peter, the more I became convinced that I was fallingin love with him. I cannot say exactly why I was feeling that way.Peter was not all that different from any of a dozen men that I knew,but there was something special about him. Maybe it was the littlethings, like what he said to me in the taxi. I do not know. I only knowthat was the way I was feeling, and I prayed he was feeling the sameabout me.I was still curious about why he was stalling about the physicalaffection from me that was his for the taking. No other man that I hadever been with in an even remotely romantic or lustful situation hadever held back. About half way through the movie I felt his arm aroundmy shoulders. I thought that things were about to heat up between us,but that was as far as it went. Near the end of the movie he alsostarted holding my hand. Maybe he was just taking his time.The show was over a little past eleven-thirty. Out on the street infront of the theater Peter asked, “Would you like to go for a drink,doll?” I grabbed my opportunity, and answered, “I’m a little tired ofthat bar. Why don’t we go back to my place, and have a nightcap there?””Suits me, doll,” replied Peter, and he flagged down a cab which soondeposited us back in front of the apartment building where I lived. Ihanded him my keys to get us in, and in a few minutes, we were back inmy living room.”What can I get you for that drink?” I asked tossing my shawl over achair. “Scotch,” Peter replied, “on the rocks.” I got some ice from thefreezer, and made our drinks. I was not a big Scotch fan, so I had myusual Gin and Tonic. Peter had taken a seat at one end of the sofa, andafter handing him his drink, I sat toward the other end. Since he hadheld back from me all evening, he would have to work his way down thecouch if he wanted to get close to me now.We tipped our glasses to each other acknowledging our first sips, andthen Peter said, “Over dinner, you said something about the doctorsaying you should have a lawyer as well. I take my bar exams in a monthor so. Maybe I could handle your case?” I had already thought of askinghim about that, so I said, “I’d like that. The doctor said I needed aname and sexual status change. I’m not sure what that all means.””Well,” said Peter, “the name change is easy. You are entitled, underthe law, to call yourself anything you wish as long as it is not donewith intent to defraud. By filing the papers, and going to court, youdemonstrate that there is no fraud involved, but a change of sexualstatus is harder.” I gave him a quizzical look, and asked, “Why?”Peter took a sip of his drink, and said, “Well, doll, no matter howpretty you look right now, your identification says ‘male’ on it. Thesurgery that the doctor will do is legally regarded as only cosmetic.In itself it imparts no change of sexual status. You could, as a legalmale, still be drafted, could only legally marry someone who waslegally a female, could not get health or insurance benefits reservedfor females, could not legally use a Ladies Room, and might run afoulof dozens of archaic little laws depending on where you are and whatyou do. The State of New York does not recognize a legal change ofsexual status unless there is demonstrable medical proof that theperson involved is a hermaphrodite. It isn’t easy, but the papers canbe filed in other places than New York. We’ll take care of it when thetime comes.””How do you know so much about it?” I asked.”Well, doll,” Peter replied, “my uncle who runs the law firm I’m with,makes a specialty of these things. That’s how I first found out aboutthe bar where I met you, but I never expected to find someone therethat I wanted as much as you.” It was then that I realized that Peterhad slid over to sit next to me, and had his arm around me again. Hedid want me tonight.Things began to happen very quickly now. I leaned my head back againstPeter’s arm, and said, “Oh? How much do you want me?” Instantly hislips were upon mine, and I needed no further answer to my question.Peter’s arms held me tightly. I responded by falling submissively limpin his embrace, and parting my lips to allow his tongue access to mine.His hands roamed down my body feeling for some of my most intimateplaces through the material of my dress. If he had held things backbefore, he was making up for lost time now. Peter looked me deep in theeyes with that “little boy” look of his that I adored so much, andsaid, “Let’s make love.” I had been aching to hear that all night, so Ireplied, “Let me get comfortable.”I stood, and reached behind me to pull down the zipper at the back ofmy dress. My little penis was pulsing with every beat of my heart asthe dress slipped from my body, and I stood before the man I loved injust my new pink lingerie and heels, ready for him to take me as hewilled. I stood that way for only a short while to let him have a goodlook, and then moved to sit in his lap. Peter’s lips again pressed uponmine, and his hands went back to caressing and feeling my body. I couldalso feel his hard cock pressing into my bottom. “Let’s go to thebedroom,” I whispered softly into his ear, and stood to lead the way.I turned down the bed, and lay upon it in the most provocative posethat I could. Peter bent to kiss me, and then stood over me to disrobe.There may have been lots of “little boy” qualities about him, butbeneath his clothes there lay a seething mass of manhood. Peter was nota bodybuilder, but he must have worked out to have built a body likethe one he had. My little penis throbbed even more as he stripped offhis undershirt, and I got my first view of his muscular chest with justa few dark, curly hairs between his smooth pectorals. Soon he was leftwith only his briefs, and he lay down next to me on the bed.Peter took me in his arms again, and we kissed deeply letting ourtongues play with each other through our parted lips. Then he reachedbehind me to do what few of my lovers ever did, and unhooked my bra.The bra slipped easily from me, and Peter moved to take one of thenipples of my tiny, male breasts between his lips. He sucked gently onit sending little shivers of delight all through me. My nipples havealways been sensitive, but lacking the bulging breasts of a real woman,few of the men I had ever been with had availed themselves of thatpleasure. It felt wonderful when Peter did it.Peter also unhooked my garter-belt, and took a moment to pull it and mystockings down off my legs. “I like my women naked,” he said lustfullyas he returned to nursing on my breasts, and feeling the rest of mybody with his hands. I wanted him, and he wanted me. It was my turnnext.I kneeled over Peter, and stripped away his briefs. The sight thatgreeted me was lovely. All eight inches of his circumcised cock waslooking up, and in its own way, smiling at me. I smiled back, andplaced a big, wet kiss right on its tip. Peter snuggled down on the bedgetting more comfortable as if in anticipation of what I was about todo. I ringed the base of his cock with my index finger and thumb, andbegan licking it from base to head like a c***d would do with alollipop. It tasted good, and Peter’s moans of pleasure told me that itmust have felt good too. I kept it up for quite a long while, trying tobring him all the pleasure I could.Peter’s balls tasted as good as his cock. I lapped at them with mytongue, and tickled them with my fingers just for the sheer fun of atlast being able to play with them. I had wanted and dreamed aboutPeter’s cock, and what it was like for a very long time. I was going toenjoy it all I could, and he seemed content to let me do all that Iwanted to do. What I wanted to do now was feel that cock in my mouth.I opened my lips, and took just the head of it between them. I ran mytongue all around it, savoring the feel of the glans. Besides beinglong, Peter’s cock was also thick, but just enough to make a good fitwith my lips. I pushed my head down, and took as much of it into mymouth as I could until I felt it hit the back of my throat. I slowlylet it slide back out across my lips, and then plunged it back in againas far as it would go. I kept this motion up, bobbing my head up anddown on Peter’s cock, and going faster with each stroke as I did. Myhand was gently feeling his balls, and when I felt them throb and getwarm, I pulled back until only the head was in my mouth.Just as I did, the first spurt of Peter’s semen shot across my tongue,and splashed against the back of my throat. That first spurt wasfollowed quickly by a second and a third, each one more copious thatthe one before. The cum filled my mouth completely, and then stopped assuddenly as it had begun. I held Peter’s cock in my mouth for a momentto be sure that he was finished, and then let it slip from my lips. Irolled the load of cum around my mouth, tasting the flavor of the man Iloved, and then swallowed all of my treasure.I lay next to Peter on my bed, and he took me in his arms again. Hekissed me deeply, and said, “I told you I liked my women naked.” Withthat, he slipped his fingers into the waistband of my panties, pulledthem down my legs, and tossed them aside. Now we were both totallynaked. That was the way Peter wanted it, and I would not deny himanything he wanted that night.Peter pressed his hand between my thighs, and with a bit of reluctance,I spread my legs to allow him access to my crotch. He touched my littlepenis, but instead of gripping it as some of my other lovers did, hepressed it under his hand, and massaged the most sensitive spots withjust his middle finger like any man might do with a woman’s clit. Iliked that, and I writhed around on the bed in my own spasms ofpleasure. After a few minutes of this, I reached down to find thatPeter’s cock had regained its hardness.Peter reached to the night table, and handed me the jar of Vaselinethat I kept there. He continued fingering me, and sucked some more onmy nipples while I got us lubricated for his next move.Peter mounted me, and I barely had time to get a pillow under my hipsto elevate my bottom for him before I felt the head of his cockpressing at my anus. I reached down to guide it to its target, and whenI had, I felt him push gently to pop the head past my sphincter. SlowlyPeter worked his cock all the way into me. I was spread almost to mylimit by the thickness of it, but that only made it feel all thebetter. He drilled that big cock of his in and out of me in a slow butsensuous manner, and our bellies robbing together on my own penis addedto the pleasure.Then I felt Peter buck hard against me, and plunge his cock all the wayup my ass. My penis too matched each thrust with a twitch of its own. Aspreading, liquid warmth grew inside of me, and another wetnessappeared on my stomach as we both came together in a shuddering mutualorgasm. Peter pressed his cock into me while the climax subsided, andthen collapsed with me pinned to the bed beneath him as we caught ourbreath. That was just where I wanted to be.Peter rolled off of me, and lay back on the bed. I hugged him, andsaid, “I hope you’re staying the night.” He nodded, and I said, “Idon’t have any night clothes for you, but I have a nightie I want towear.””That’s fine,” he said. “I usually sleep nude anyway.” That was justfine with me too.I arose, and went to the bathroom to clean up, and returned with a warmwashcloth to do the same for Peter. I got out my new blue lace nightie.It was the same one that I had been admiring when I met Alan. I hadgone back to buy it a few days later, and I wanted to wear it forPeter. I modeled it for his appreciative gaze before I lay back downnext to him.”Peter,” I asked as I lay in his arms, “why did you wait so long beforeyou kissed me tonight?””Well, doll,” he replied, “this was our first real date, and I wantedyou to know that you could be as coy as any girl with me that way. Agirl doesn’t have to get sexual with a man right away. She teases himalong as he works at seducing her. I wanted you to have that on yourfirst real date, and it was more fun that way for me too.”I kissed him for the pure joy of doing it, and to thank him for thelesson he had taught me. I liked being seduced his way. I felt justlike the woman I was in his arms, and I loved him all the more for it.We fell asleep with me cuddled close to him that way. I wanted to belike this with him often. Peter was just what the doctor ordered!Sub-title: Stone Walls do not a Prison MakePeter left for home just before noon on Sunday. We had made loveanother time when we awoke. I just could not get enough of being in hisarms. Making breakfast for us was fun too. It was sort of like playinghouse. I started dreaming of what it might be like to be doing it everymorning, and wondered if I would like being a housewife. I decided thatI would as long as Peter was my husband.It was raining that afternoon, so I just stayed home to putter aroundthe house. Margo got home late in the day with a wild story aboutromping in the nude around the pool at Uncle Charlie’s place, andgiving his chauffeur a blow-job on a deck chair while Carol had UncleCharlie tied to the diving board, and was clamping clothespins to hiscock and balls. “You should come with us sometime,” she suggested, butI politely declined the honor. I preferred the way I had spent myweekend.Margo did not go to “The Gilded G****” that night. She said that shewas too tired from her weekend, and wanted to give her body a rest.That did not, however, stop her from working of her nightly drunk bydrinking beer and a few shots of whiskey while we watched television.It was getting so that Margo could not function without a drink. We hadalmost missed the last rent payment because she had all but run out ofmoney from buying alcohol. If I could have moved out I probably wouldhave, but I felt sort of obligated to staying with her until I had areally good reason, and I did not know where else to go. I could notafford as nice an apartment as we had on just my salary. I neededsomething major to happen to break things loose. I went to bed early,partially to get away from Margo, but mostly to get a good night’ssleep. I had an appointment with the photographer in the morning.I arrived on time for my photo session at Tom’s studio. The girl at thereception desk told me how to get to Tom’s office, and I knocked at thedoor. His big, friendly voice boomed out, “Come in!” from inside, and Ientered. The office was a lot neater than I had expected. All the decorwas very trendy and modern in the style that was called “Mod” at thetime. The walls were, of course, covered with photographs along with anumber of awards that he or the studio had won.Tom was sitting behind a big, wooden desk talking on the telephone. Hewas leaning back in the chair with his feet up on the desk gesturingwith the pipe in his right hand as he talked. He waved to me with thepipe as I came in, and used it to point to a big, upholstered chair atthe front of his desk. I took a seat to wait for him to finish hisconversation.”Glad you could make it,” Tom said when he hung up the phone. “You’rethe first one that we called in. Did you bring your papers?” I took outthe forms that he had given me in the envelope at the audition, andpassed them across the desk to him. “I think that you’ll find them allin order,” I said in a playfully businesslike tone as he took them.”Good,” he replied. “All we need to do now is get your signature on amodel’s release.””What’s that?” I asked.Tom reached into a desk drawer, and brought out another form. “This,”he said, “is a Model’s Release. We can’t use any photographs of you forany purpose unless we have one on file. By signing it, you give thestudio the right to sell photos of you as long as you have beencompensated for the session during which they were taken.” This wasstill a little new to me, so I asked, “Why do you need it? I thoughtthat all you did was take the picture, and use it.””Not quite,” Tom replied. “You see you have a right to privacy underthe law. If someone takes your picture, and sells it without yourwritten permission, that is an invasion of privacy. The only exceptionto that is if you are a public figure, or are involved in a news event.The Model’s Release is your written permission for the studio to useyour pictures for any purpose as long as it does not defame yourcharacter, and we have paid you in some way for posing. Okay?”It seemed all right, but I still asked, “What do you mean by anypurpose?””Well,” said Tom, “let’s say that we did the coat layouts. We couldalso use some of those shots for our own advertising. If we did aportfolio for you gratis, we could use the pictures as stock shots forother things. It’s really to your advantage. It lets us get yourpictures around, and that could mean more work and money for you.”I signed the form. “Good,” said Tom. “Now you’re officially a model.Welcome to the studio! Are you ready to get started?” He did not haveto ask. “Yes,” I replied. “What happens next?””What happens next,” said Tom, “is for us to get you in front of alens. I have a deal for you. As a model or a dancer, you’re going toneed a portfolio to show. The test shots we want to do could be thebasis for that. We’ll do a full portfolio for you today if you’ll allowus to sell the shots as stock photos, and do some cross-dresscheesecake and soft core stuff of you. Your fee for today will be theportfolio, so you get no royalties for the shots if we sell them. Weusually charge two-hundred and fifty dollars for a portfolio sessionlike this, so you aren’t being cheated.” The deal sounded all right, soI agreed.”Okay,” said Tom, “then it’s time to meet your photographer.””Aren’t you going to take them?” I asked. “No,” Tom replied with alaugh. “I run things now. I only do a few special assignments any more.I’ve got eight photographers working for me. You’ll like the one you’reworking with.” Tom picked up the phone, dialed an extension, and said,”Ray?… Can you step into the office?” There was a short pause, andTom hung up the phone saying, “Ray’s one of my best people. He justdoes fashion and cheesecake, so you’ll probably be working a lot withhim.”A moment later there was a knock at the door, and Tom called out, “Comein!” The door opened, and in came Ray. He was about six feet tall withthinning, blonde hair, and looked to be in his mid-thirties. Tomintroduced us, and Ray said, “Okay, let’s get started.” He led the waydown the hall, and into a big loft room that was set up as a photostudio. The walls were mostly bare brick, but one corner had a strangesort of two level structure built in it. “That’s the dressing room,”Ray said pointing to the structure. “Put your stuff in the first floor,and straighten your make-up. My office is the top level. The make-upgirl should be in to help you in a minute.” I went in, but there wassomeone in there already.”Hi,” said a woman in her late twenties who appeared to be waiting forme in the dressing room. “My name’s Wendy. I do the make-up for Ray.You must be Bobbi. You sure don’t look like any TV that I know. I thinkyou’ll do well here.” I did not expect her to know that I was not allthe woman I could be yet, so I asked, “How did you know?” Wendygiggled, and said, “Ray told me. It’s part of the assignment for us toknow, but we won’t tell anyone. I understand you’re going to be doingmostly Straight stuff, so you’ll just have to trust me with yoursecret. Now, shall we get to work?”I sat in the make-up chair, and Wendy put a make-up bib on me. “Raywants to do some shots of you in your street clothes first, and thenwe’ll change into some costumes,” she said as she worked on my make-up.”Don’t be nervous. Ray comes off as being short and gruff, but he’seasy to work with if you just follow his direction. All the girls likeworking with him.” I was a little nervous, but Wendy had a very calmingeffect on me for some reason. We talked a little more while she workedon me. She had started out as a model herself, but wound up doing make-up here. She said she still did a little modeling too, but only as afill in for stock photos. When she was finished she said, “There! Nowlet’s take some pictures!”Ray did not say much at all as he started escort tuzla his work, and let Wendy setup the shots. The first part of the session was simple things. We didsome portraits from one or two shots of just my face through some headand shoulders poses, and ended up with some head-to-toe shots. Raycalled them “mug shots” in a more jargonlike than cynical way. He saidthat all models needed them. They were the basis of any good portfolio.”Okay,” said Ray at last. “Let’s get down to some business here. Let mesee how you can work that dress you’re wearing.” Wendy cleared away thetable and chair we had been using as props. Ray had been working with alarge format portrait camera, but now he picked up a 35MM. He took apicture of me, and said, “Don’t just stand there. Move around! Let mesee you move!”I was not sure what to do. I had never done this before, but I had todo something. I decided to try some of the dance moves that I hadlearned. I started slow, but it seemed to be what Ray wanted. “That’sit,” he called, “That’s the way… More swing in the hips… Work theskirt… Shake your hair… That’s it!” I kept it up, and got a littlemore suggestive with my moves. Ray liked that too, and kept callingencouragement. Then I pulled up my skirt, and gave him a few cheesecakeposes that showed my garters and panties. Ray threw himself into thattoo getting down low to get some shots up my skirt.”That was good,” Ray said. “Let’s get a dance costume on her, Wendy.I’ve got to change film. Then we’ll get to other things.” Wendy and Iwent back into the dressing room. I was starting to have fun.Once in the dressing room, Wendy said, “Now, one of the next lessonsthat you’ve got to learn is not to keep the photographer waiting. Thatmeans that you have to learn how to change costumes quickly. Take offyour clothes.” I wanted to be a good model, so I stripped down to mybra and panties as fast as I could. Wendy was arranging things on themake-up table, but I could see that she was also watching me closely.”It’s remarkable,” she said when I was down to just my underwear. “Iknow that your a TV, but I still can’t see anything that might give itaway. Well, the panties are fine, but the bra won’t work under thedance costume that we have. You’ll have to take that off too.”The costume was a dance leotard with some sequins to make it sparkle.It was a light green color, and had a removable, wrap around skirt thatwould come to just above my knees. Wendy also gave me a pair of blackfishnet tights. “The costume has a built in bra,” she said, “but we’llhave to fill it out with something. You don’t have as much up top asmost girls.” We giggled at this, and then I added, “Not yet, anyway.”Wendy questioned what I meant by that, so I told her a little about myplans for surgery, and the hormone treatments that I had started. Sheseemed very interested saying, “I’ve never even known a TV before, letalone worked with one. I was a bit unsure when I took this assignment,but it sounded interesting. I’m glad I did now. I think I like you.”I felt a lot more comfortable too after she had said that. I wasbeginning to like Wendy too, and it was good to know that she felt thesame way. People react to transvestites and transsexuals in a lot ofdifferent ways, and not always in a positive manner. I have always beensomewhat self-conscious of this. A bad reaction could have disastrousconsequences sometimes. I was glad that nothing like that would happenhere.It did not take long to get me in the costume with Wendy’s help, and Iwas back in the chair getting my make-up adjusted. The shades of bluethat I had been wearing on my eyes had to be replaced with greens tomatch the costume. “Green is really your color,” Wendy said as sheworked. “It goes well with your hair, but have you ever thought ofmaking your hair a little more red?” My own hair was long enough nowthat I did not need a wig, but the wigs I had were all a little morered than my natural color. “How would I do that?” I asked. “Oh, just asimple henna rinse should do it,” she replied. “I can show you later ifyou like. I’m going to be working on the coat assignment with you, andwe thought that we could use a redhead in the group, so I told Tom Iwould ask you. What do you think?” I liked the idea, so I agreed. “Thenwe’ll do it later,” she said finishing my make-up. “Now let’s take somemore pictures.”Ray was fiddling with the lighting when we emerged from the dressingroom. “You two sure took your time in there,” he said. “Bobbi, you sayyou’re a dancer, so that’s what I want you to do. Just get out thereand dance. We have some music to go with it, and all I want you to dois go with the music. You can make it as classical or as sexy as youlike. Ready?” I told him I was, and Wendy started the music.I started to move to the rock beat, and Ray called out, “Just ignoreme, and concentrate on the music.” I did that, and just enjoyed lettingmyself go. I used every move that Tina and Toni had taught me, andtossed in a few of my own. I did high kicks and shimmies, and strippedoff the skirt to crawl on the floor tossing my hair about. It got verysexy and suggestive in some parts, but that is what Ray wanted from me.I gave it all I had. All of it was punctuated with the flashes of thestrobes, and Ray’s frequent calls of encouragement. I really was havingfun.”Okay, Bobbi,” Ray said as the music died after about half an hour ofwork. “Take a rest, and sit over here.” We went over to a prop sofa offto one side of the studio, and I plopped on it, glad for the chance totake a break. “It’s about eleven-thirty,” Ray said. “Let’s take lunchnow, and we can talk.” Wendy went to get some food from the deli orderthat the studio had delivered every day, and I was alone with Ray.He lit a cigarette, and I refused his offer of one. Then he explained,”Tom told you that we want to do a sexy cross-dress layout of you.After lunch we’re going to do a couple of coats first, and then I wantto try something else. Since you’re a dancer, I want you to do astriptease. I’ll have a movie camera running, so there’ll be nostrobes, but I will be doing some stills while you dance. This will besound, so other than the music we all have to be careful of noise. Haveyou ever done a striptease before?”I told him I had once, remembering the one I had done in the G.G.Girlsdressing room, and he said, “Good, but I want you nude at the end, andI need your cock to show when you’re finished. Then we’ll do somelingerie and nudes. Can you do that?” I did not like to show my penis,but it was part of the deal I had made with Tom. I agreed as Wendyreturned with the food.I just had a small salad for lunch. The camera adds a few pounds toanybody’s apparent weight through optical distortions, and it would notbe an asset to have my tummy bulging with food while we worked thisafternoon. We talked a bit about the striptease routine and the othershots we would do while we ate. Wendy played some of the music for thedance, so I would have some idea of what I had to work with.Wendy and I went back to the dressing room after lunch. I took off the dance costume, and was standing there in just my panties when Wendyasked, “Where do you hide your cock?” I noticed that she had beenstaring at my crotch, so I sort of knew that she was curious about it.”It’s tucked back between my legs,” I answered. “Could I see it?” sheasked. “I know that you’re going to show it as part of this afternoon’ssession, but I would rather have seen it here first. Is that possible?”I nodded.I put my thumbs in the waistband of my panties, and slid them down offmy legs. I spread my thighs a bit, reaching between them to pull mylittle penis out into Wendy’s view. She stared at it for a moment, andthen reached out to gently pet it with her fingers. It twitched at hertouch, but she stroked it again. Then she withdrew her hand saying,”Thank you. I’ve never worked with a transvestite before, and I justhad to see it before we did the nudes. Are you going to have a sexchange?”Her touch and her questions were all so very innocent that I could notbe offended in any way. Her manner in them was almost c***dlike. “Yes,”I said, “I am going to have a sex change, but it is really more likemaking me the sex I should always have been. These male organs are aprison for me. Stone walls do not a prison make. Emotions can imprisonus more securely than any concrete and steel. I want to be releasedfrom my prison.” Wendy looked at me strangely with almost a tear in hereye. “Let me help if I can,” she said. “All I know about is make-up andbeauty, but that could help. Let me be your friend.”Wendy and I embraced, and she kissed me lightly on the cheek. There wasnothing at all sexual in it. It was just the way two women shared theiremotions together as friends. I was being admitted a little furtherinto the sisterhood that women shared, and that was where I wanted tobe. Wendy and I became good friends as well as co-workers. That helpeda lot as things went on in my modeling career.”Time for a new costume,” Wendy said. “I’d like you to get into justyour bra and panties for the coats. We don’t need a dress under themfor these shots. Then we’ll get you into the striptease gear.” I put onmy underwear again while Wendy stepped outside for a second, and Iheard her moving some things around. She called me to come outside, andI found that she had moved a rail of coats behind a changing screenjust outside of the door.”Put on a coat,” she said, “and walk out there and model it as if youwere working to an audience. Just pretend Ray isn’t there.” I did asshe asked, and Ray snapped pictures all the way through it. Then it wasanother coat, one after the other until all nine on the rail had beendone. “Take ten!” Ray said after the last coat, signaling a verywelcome period of rest, or so I thought.”Take off your clothes,” Wendy said when I got back into the dressingroom expecting to rest for a few minutes. “But, Ray said…” I started,but Wendy cut me off, saying, “Never mind that. Photographers only haveto change film. The can afford ten minutes for a smoke. We have tochange clothes and make-up. They get to work now! Strip!”In seconds I was nude, and sitting in the make-up chair so that Wendycould remove all of my powder and paint. Then she handed me ashimmering, silver lamZ g-string and pasties. It was not easy to getthe g-string into a position to secure my little penis in its tuck, butI got it there. Next was a red jersey bikini panty with string ties atthe hips, and a red jersey bra that was really just a pair of falsiescovered in fabric, and connected with elastic straps. Over that went ablack lace garter-belt with sheer stockings, and a black lace full-slipwith breakaway seams. The top layer was a pink sequined dress with alow cut neckline, and a skirt that was slightly flared. The shoes alsoglittered with pink sequins.The make-up that Wendy had chosen was also a series of shades of pink,but with ruby red lipstick for my lips. “Pink is another good color foryou,” she said as she worked on me. “It goes with your hair almost aswell as the green.” It did not take too much time to get me changed andmade-up again, and soon I was ready to do my first theatrical stylestriptease which was also my first striptease in front of a camera.”When you go out there,” Wendy said giving me my stage directions, “goto the middle of the set, and pose. I’ll slate the scene, and start themovie camera. When Ray calls for ‘action’ just go with the music, anddo your strip. Don’t get off the set, though, until Ray calls ‘cut’.I’ll have a robe out there for you, but you’ll stay nude under it outthere for the next break. We’ll do lingerie and nudes after thestriptease, so there’ll be no need to come back in here.”The set was bathed in bright theatrical lights when I stepped out ofthe dressing room. I went to center stage, and struck a dancer’s posewith my hands on my hips, and my back arched slightly to hold my headhigh. I hear Wendy announce the scene over the soft whirr of the moviecamera, and the snap of the slate followed by Ray’s call of, “ACTION!”The music started, and I began to dance.A properly done striptease means that you remove one article or layerof clothing for each song that it part of the music. There were sixmusical numbers on the tape which set the pace for my movements, andthat meant almost half an hour of dancing for me. In the first number Idanced in the dress lifting the skirt to show my garters beforestripping it off at the end. The second number had me give a sharp tugat the bodice of the slip about half way through to break the temporarystitches at the seams, so it could just fall off me. The third numberwas a lot of high-kicks and leg flashes as I lost my stockings andgarter-belt. Then at the end of the fourth number, I pulled the stringties on the bra and panties of the red jersey bikini, and struck aflamboyant pose in just the pasties and g-string to wait for the next piece of music to begin.The next and fifth number was a hard driving bit of jazz with lots ofbrass, drums, and bass in the classic tradition of the striptease. Ilet things get really hot in this one, bumping and grinding for all Iwas worth. I could not see or hear Ray or Wendy for all of the lightsand music, so I lost all touch with them. I was alone in a cloud oflight on a sea of music, and I let the waves of both crash over me.My movements went beyond the simple suggestiveness of a striptease, andbecame downright lewd and pornographic. There were two tiny stings atmy nipples when I pulled off the pasties about half way through thenumber, but I danced on in just a silver lamZ g-string. At last Iturned my back to the camera at the end of the number to strip off theg-string, and await the sixth and final number with my naked bottomfacing the lens.More brass and bass filled the air, and I turned to face the camera. Mylittle penis was still in its tuck, so all that appeared at my crotchwas a bit of feminine looking pubic hair. I danced that way for aboutthirty seconds, and then flexed my thighs to pop my little penis outinto the light for all to see. It was sort of semi-hard from theexcitement of doing this striptease, so it stuck out from my body justa bit. I swear that I heard either Ray or Wendy gasp when it appeared.I was into the dance completely by then, and just kept going. Ray andTom had wanted a pornographic, transvestite striptease, so that isexactly what I gave them!The last notes of the last song died away, and I held my last pose. Iwas totally naked and exposed under the lights and before the lens. Icould hear Ray’s camera clicking away a last few shots before hecalled, “CUT!” and I heard the movie camera stop. Ray shut down thelights as Wendy came over to put a red nylon robe around me. “Take abreak,” said Ray, and we all went over to the prop sofa in the cornerfor a much needed rest. I was still having fun, but getting tired.I guess that my performance was the sort of thing that the studio hadwanted, for I could see at least a small bulge at the crotch of Ray’spants when he sat down. “That was quite a show, Bobbi,” Ray said as helit a cigarette. “I’ve worked with cross-dressers before, but nonequite like you. I think you’ll do very well here. You can do Straightstuff as well as any woman I know, and if your lingerie and nudes areanything like that striptease… Well, let’s just say that I enjoyworking with you.” It was nice to know I could turn on a Straight guytoo!The work with the lingerie and the nudes that we did were all prettytame by comparison to my porno debut as a striptease dancer. We hadthree nighties to do, and we handled them the same as the coats. Iwould put each one on, and do a sort of runway walk through the studiowhile Ray snapped pictures from various angles. We did a few sexy poseswith them, but I had expended a lot of energy on the striptease, so Ineeded to work back up to things.Next was a red bra, panty, and garter-belt set. It was lace, and Wendyhelped me pad out the bra cups so that it looked like I had a lot morethan I did, but in a way that would not let the camera see the falsies.I went right into the sexy poses this time. The sofa had been movedonto the set as a prop at my request, and I used it to lie on while Iwrithed around to show off all the sexuality I could. I also decided togive the studio a little more to add to its now growing pornographycollection of me.As I lay on the sofa with my legs spread, I pulled the crotch of thepanty aside, and let my little penis slip out. “Great!” shouted Ray.”Hold that!” He meant to stay in that pose for a moment while he got acouple of shots, but I decided to be a bit evil, and take him moreliterally. I took hold of my little penis, and worked it with my handuntil it got hard. Then I did a few more poses with it sticking out forall to see. I did not really like showing my penis this way, but it waspart of the deal I had made with the studio. I also thought that thepictures might be of some interest to look back on after I had my penisremoved.Whatever would happen with the photos, the session was having quite aneffect on my co-workers. Ray had gotten a thrill from my striptease,and when the lingerie and penis pictures were done, I could see thenipples on Wendy’s breasts pressing through the material of her blouse.I had managed to turn everybody, including me, on, and I liked that. Ihave always enjoyed being a tease.”Okay, girls,” announced Ray when his film ran out after the lingeriepictures, “that’s a wrap! It’s three-thirty, and I have to get all thisfilm ready for the lab. Besides, if our new model gets it any hotter inhere, my lenses are going to melt!” Wendy and I started back toward thedressing room as Ray added, “Come back next Monday at 10:00AM, Bobbi.We can look over all the shots together then after the lab is done withthem, and I’ll help you pick out a portfolio.” I told him I would, andfollowed Wendy into the dressing room. I was a real model now.I took off the lingerie in the dressing room, and sat in the make-upchair. I was nude, but that hardly seemed to matter now. Wendy took aseat in the big chair in the corner, and said, “Well, Bobbi, we’realmost done for today. We just have to hang up that last outfit, andget you and me presentable for the street again. Only I’m too tired todo it yet.” She stretched to relieve some of the fatigue, and said,”You’re quite a turn-on when you want to be. You even got me going atthe end, and Ray was really into that striptease of yours. You probablycouldn’t see for the lights, but a couple of times he was so intowatching you that he forgot to take pictures! Just keep it on the set,though, honey. Ray is all mine outside of the studio.”Wendy added a sort of giggle to this by way of saying that she was notangry, but her message came through all the same. We could be closefriends, but do not mess with her man! That was another part of thesisterhood of women. No matter how close I would get to another woman,there were still some things that would not be tolerated. The signalswere getting clearer now. I was really becoming a woman, but I stillwould need a catalyst to start me on the last part of the journey. Thatcatalyst would come all too soon.”Could we try that henna rinse another time?” Wendy asked. “I’d like todo it for you now, so you can get used to it, but I just don’t feel upto it.” I was beat too. I was absolutely exhausted! This had been avery long day for me. If I thought that I worked hard as a stockboy, Ihad another thing coming. I had never pictured a model’s job as beingthis much work. I thought all you did was dress up nice, and smilepretty. This was work!There was a small shower stall as part of the toilet room that wasconnected to the dressing room, and Wendy let me use it first. When Icame out, she was waiting in just a robe. It sort of made me consciousof my own nudity. I was just openly cavorting about in the nude. Itwould not have mattered to me if Wendy had done the same, but she hadthe modesty to cover up. “I guess I should have a robe too,” I saidwith a blush rising in my cheeks. “Well…” replied Wendy. “After thetype of session we just did there really isn’t anything between us tohide, but you should get used to wearing one around the set most of thetime. There are a lot of eyes around, and once they get a look, some ofthem think they’re entitled to more. Save yourself a lot of trouble,and stay covered except when you’re in front of a lens.”I got back into my lingerie while Wendy was in the shower. She came outwith a sort of nervous look on her face. She looked at me strangely fora long moment, and then said, “Okay, girlfriend. We only have onedressing room here, so remember that we’re both supposed to be girls.”With that, she took off the robe, and tossed it over the chair.Wendy was as pretty in the nude as she was in her street clothes. Herbreasts were round and globular, her hips were narrow and seductive,and the hair at her crotch was trimmed to just a vertical bar, so itwould not show in a bikini panty. She stood still to let me look herover, and said, “Well, what do you think? I wanted to return the favoryou did me before by showing me your cock. Ray wants to do a series ofnudes of you and a real-girl, and I got him to let me do the real-girlpart. I’m no stranger to porno. I don’t look as good as you in front ofa lens, so I don’t get to do fashion. I like what I did today, but Ilike to model too. The only way I get to do any modeling is naked.”There was just the merest hit of a tear in her eye as she spoke.”I’d be honored to pose with you,” I said. I knew that my words coulddo little to relieve the pain she was feeling. Wendy wanted to be afashion model very badly, but she was not quite fashion model caliber.Almost anyone could be a model of some sort, but a fashion model is theelite. It is not just beauty. The qualifications go far beyond that.There is also a certain style in the way a fashion model moves andcarries herself. Some of it can be learned, but most of it seems almostinborn or instinctive.Wendy lacked these qualities. She did the cheesecake and pornographybecause that was what she could get offers to do. Most of what she didwas with Ray behind the lens. They were also lovers off the set, butdid not live together. Ray was too into “doing his own thing” for that.”That’s all right, Bobbi,” Wendy said as we went back to our dressing.”I’m content with what I do. Oh, I would rather be doing other things,but I’m happy here. Look, why don’t you come over to my place onThursday night, and I’ll do that henna rinse for you. We girlfriendsshould see each other off the set too.” I readily agreed, and Wendyoffered to do my make-up before we left. “When you get to be a bigstar,” she said as she worked, “maybe you’ll hire me as your personalcosmetician.” It was a joke, but it was also a pretty good idea. Nowall I had to do was figure out how I was going to go about becoming abig star.It did not take long before Wendy and I were ready to leave. She lookeddifferent in a dress somehow. All day she had been working in jeans andan old blouse, but I guess those were her work clothes. The dress shewore was nothing fancy, but she wore it well. There was still a lot of”model” in her even if she did not do fashion work. “Got anythingspecial planned for tonight?” she asked as we left the dressing room.”No,” I replied. “I might stop by the local bar for a drink, but I’llprobably just go home.” Wendy took my hands in hers, and moved her faceclose to mine in the sort of mock kiss that women do as a greeting.”Well,” she said, “if you’ve got nothing else to do, call me, and we’llchat some more. You’re fun as a friend. If I don’t hear from you, havea good time!”I returned her pleasantries, and she went up the stairs to Ray’soffice. I left the studio, and started for home. All of what I wantedin life was starting to fall into place. I was taking dance lessons, Ihad a part-time job as a model, I had some good friends, I had a niceboyfriend in Peter, I had a mother to lean on in Edith, and I had founda doctor to help me become all the woman I could be. What was it then,that felt like something holding me back? I needed one more thing tohappen to push me over that obstacle. I was soon to be pushed.By the time I got home it was almost six o’clock. I had walked home, sothat I could think about what was going on in my life. Margo was getting dressed when I got in. She was going to “The Gilded G****” asusual, and asked if I was going along. That night I really felt likegoing for two very important reasons. Firstly, I wanted the normallyfestive atmosphere of the bar around me. I had just become a model of asort, so I think I was entitled to celebrate a little. Secondly, Ineeded some money. I had to pay for my hormone shot on Wednesday, andget through the rest of the week, but I did not have enough money to doit. Two tricks should resolve that problem. I did not like turningtricks for cash, but prostitution was always a quick and easy way ofmaking ends meet if you knew how to do it, and Margo had taught mewell.”Would you mind if Carol spent a couple of days here?” asked Margo aswe dressed. “You mean a couple of nights in your bed, don’t you?” Isaid with a giggle. “Whatever,” replied Margo with some annoyance inher voice. “She’ll sleep in my room with me,” she continued, “and youwon’t know we’re here. We want to spend some time together, and she’sgetting a lot of hassles from her Landlord.”I had suspected that Margo and Carol were lovers for a while. The factdid not bother me, but Carol did. I did not like her at all. It was,however, really Margo’s apartment, so she could do what she liked here.At least she had told me by way of “asking” me if I minded rather thanjust “telling” me Carol was coming. “No,” I said. “I don’t mind at all.Are you ready to leave yet?””The Gilded G****” was never a hotbed of activity on a Monday night,but there were a few people around when we got there. This was Emma’snight off, so Margo went to the front bar to talk to Edie. I did notsee anyone I knew very well, so I just went to the bar at the back ofthe place. Margo did not complain that I did not sit with her. She knewwhy I was here, and the back bar was a better place for hustlingtricks. I ordered a drink, and waited.It did not take long for someone to notice me. He was dressed verycasually, but was good looking enough. He started by just staring at meuntil I turned to him, and said, “Hello.” We talked about nothing inparticular, and finally I got the subject around to sex. That startedslowly until he bluntly whispered, “I’ll give you twenty dollars for ahand-job in the toilet.” This was not what I normally did, but theprice was better that normal for a hand-job. I leaned over to him, andwhispered, “If you can get into the last stall in the Ladies Room, I’lldo you there.” He agreed, and made his way to the appointed spot.I waited a few minutes so as not to arouse suspicion, and went in afterhim. The room was deserted when I got there, so I went to the laststall, and tapped on the door. It opened, and there he sat on top ofthe toilet tank with his feet on the rim of the bowl. He had taken offhis pants, and was naked from the waist down. I stepped into the stallwith him, and latched the door behind me. “I’ve never gotten jerked offin a Ladies Room before,” he said with a slightly insane soundinggiggle.I was not enjoying this already, so I said, “Let’s do business first.”He looked puzzled, and said, “Huh?” This was going to be neither funnor easy. “Pay me now, and then I’ll do your dick!” I said with someexasperation in my voice. “Oh!” he said, and handed me a crumpled wadof paper that turned out to be a ten and two fives. “Fine,” I said.”Now let me get to work.”The Ladies Room at “The Gilded G****” never smelled like a flowergarden, but there was a new odor now. It did not take long to realizethat the source of the smell was my trick! I do not think he bathed atall. These were the “Hippie Years”, and that was part of being hip tosome people. When I gripped his cock, it felt all sweaty and slimy. Ipumped my hand up and down it, and was very pleased that I did not haveto put it in my mouth to give him a blow-job.His cock was hard, but not straight. It sort of twisted to the left,and bent upwards in the middle. I pumped it for all I was worth to getthis over with, and get away from the ugly and smelly thing.It only took me a few minutes to make him cum, but he seemed to delightin watching himself shoot. He also liked the way the cum that did notdrop into the toilet ran over my hand. When he was finished cumming, hetook my hand, and licked it clean. I told him to stay in the stall forten minutes while I left. I got out quick, washed my hands, and wentback to the bar. He did not come out for half an hour. I do not want toknow what else he might have been doing in there!Soon, another man sat on the stool next to mine at the bar. He wascasually dressed, but not a Hippie type like the other one. His buildran to the heavy side, almost fat. He wore glasses, and although he wasnot exactly handsome, he was not bad looking. I looked over at him. Helooked back, so I said, “Care to buy a woman a drink?” He smilednicely, and answered, “Sure. I’ve seen you here before, but I’ve neverhad the chance to talk to you. You’re very pretty.” I sipped my drink.”Oh?” I said. “Then you like pretty girls like me?””Very much,” he answered. “Would you like to go somewhere, and get toknow me better?” I asked. “How much?” he replied. He knew theprocedure.We got up from the bar, and he followed me outside. I took him to TheAlva Hotel where most of the girls went with their tricks. He checkedus in as just another of the vast list of “Mr & Mrs John Smiths” thatfilled their register, and we went to our room. As soon as we wereinside, he produced his wallet, and handed me two tens and a five.”What do you want to do?” I asked. “Whatever you like to do most,” hereplied. I thought for a moment. I liked to get fucked, but a blow-jobwould be quicker. “I’d like to suck you off,” I said. “Okay,” heanswered, and started taking off his pants. When he was naked from thewaist down, I tool him into the bathroom, and washed his cock. I am notfond of the taste of sweat.He left the bathroom, and went straight for the bed. He lay on hisback, and waited for me to get to work. I never really liked turningtricks, but I do like giving a man a good time. This goes for eitherlovers or tricks. This trick would be no exception, and besides, if heliked what he got tonight, he might be back again. Even a prostitutehas to think of he marketing.I slowly slipped out of my clothes until I wore only my bra, panties,garter-belt, stockings, and heels. I posed for him that way for a fewminutes in all the sexy ways I could think of, and he responded with abroad smile, and lots of words of compliment and encouragement. Then Igot onto the bed between his legs, and kissed his cock right on the tip. It jumped and twitched at this, and I started licking it all over.After a moment of me licking his cock, he lifted his thigh to nudge meup, and asked, “Could we fuck instead?”He was just so sweet about everything, that I agreed. I liked gettingfucked better anyway. I got up, got a tube of Vaseline from my purse,and gave it to him, saying, “Get yourself lubricated while I get readyfor you.” While he squeezed some jelly on the head of his cock, Iunhooked my garters, and removed my panties. Then I put some lubricanton my ass, and got beck into bed with him. He pulled me onto my rightside with him behind me. His right arm was under me, and pulled me backagainst him. His left arm reached down, and positioned his hard cockagainst my anal opening. He thrust his loins forward, and I pushed myass back burying his meat in me. I let out a little gasp when heentered me. He felt bigger back there than I had expected him to be.His left arm now came over the top of me, and both arms gripped tightlyin a bear-hug. His right hand found its way under my bra to pinch andtickle one of my nipples while his left hand groped for my littlepenis, and having found it, gripped it to sort of jerk me off while wefucked. The thrusting of his cock was not hard and violent, but slowand pulsing. In his arms as I was, I felt as if I was wrapped in somesort of a machine of total sexual stimulation. I might not like turningtricks in general, but I was enjoying this one. Every nerve center ofsexual energy that I had was being given attention in some way. I couldhave rocked like that in his arms for hours. I hoped he certainly wouldbe a repeat customer.We rocked back and forth in that embrace for some time. Normally, Iwould work to get things finished quickly, but his cock felt just sogood in my ass the way it was, and the stimulation my own little peniswas getting from his left hand was so exciting that I just let him rideme for as long as he liked. Then, at last, the climax started, and Ifelt his cock throb in my ass as he shot his sperm up into my bowels.His hand pumped harder now on my little penis, and was rewarded when myown cum spilled out onto the bedsheets. I was panting hard, gasping for breath, and I felt his hot breath against the back of my neck as he didthe same. We lay there for a little while with his cock still oozingsemen into my ass, and my little penis dripping on the bed until it wastime to go.We both got up, and I invited him back into the bathroom where Icleaned us both up. He might have paid for the trick, but I had gottensomething out of it too. It was one way I could repay him. “What’s yourname?” he asked as we got dressed. “Bobbi,” I replied pulling my dressover my head. “That’s a nice name,” he said. “Mine’s Bob. I hope I’llsee you again.” I smiled thinking of how good his cock had felt in myass. “Oh, I’m sure you will,” I said. “Are you going back to the bar?””No,” he said, “I’m going home.””Well,” I said, “then maybe I’ll see you next week,” and kissed him. Hekissed back, but did not take me in his arms. I do not think herealized he could have if he wanted to.We left the hotel together, and parted company at the corner. I watchedhim walk away before I headed back to “The Gilded G****” again. I didnot have any regular tricks of my own, but I hoped Bob would be one. Ijust liked the way he fucked.Patty was sitting at the back bar of “The Gilded G****” when I gotthere. She gave me an evil smile, and said, “My, but aren’t we theproper little whore tonight, girlfriend. Two tricks already, and it’snot even nine o’clock yet.” I was shocked! “How did you know?!” Iasked. “You know there are no secrets in here,” Patty said with thesame evil grin. “Margo told Edie that you went to the back to turntricks, and Edie’s been watching what you’ve been up to. She told meyou went to the hotel with some fat guy, so I came back here to waitfor you.” Patty lit a cigarette, and added, “You can take all the johnsyou want to the hotel, but don’t do anymore tricks in the Ladies Room,or you’ll get yourself eighty-sixed from here. Gerry, the owner, couldlose his license for letting that sort of thing go on. It’s okay thistime, but don’t do it again! Emma will eighty-six you for sure if shefinds out.”I composed myself. It was just not worth getting angry over. Dragqueens are notorious gossips, so the story would be all over the placesoon enough. There was nothing I could do about it no matter how much Idisliked it, but this was not how a real woman should have to live. Iwas growing to hate this bar, and the life that went on around it. Ihad to find a way to start living as a real woman.”What brings you here tonight?” I asked. “Oh,” said Patty, “the same asyou. I’ve been working the street outside, and I just came in for adrink.””Outside on the street?” I said quizzically. “You mean with all thereal-girl hookers?” Patty laughed, and said, “Not exactly. The real-girls work all of 8th Avenue. We work the west side of 8th Avenue from46th to 45th Street, and the north side of 45th Street between 8th and9th Avenues. The johns all know it, so just make sure he gives somesign that he knows you’ve got a dick, and watch out for cops. The law’sthe same now for both boys and girls. If you get arrested, you go tojail at least overnight, and there’s a hundred dollar fine.””What’d you mean about the law being the same for boys and girls now?”I asked. “It used to be different,” Patty replied. “The law onprostitution used to be used to be specific to women, so technically aman could not be a prostitute, and the worst they could bust you on wasloitering, but they changed that now. You can be as much a prostitutein the eyes of the law as a real-girl now. Ain’t equality grand?” Weboth laughed. This was one step on my way to becoming all the woman Icould be that at least did not require surgery.”I’m going to try one on the street,” I said to Patty. I had alwaysbeen fascinated by the hookers, and fantasized about joining them. Nowwas the time. “Easy now,” Patty said. “I’ve been doing this for awhile, and you’ve only done it in this bar. Gerry, the owner, pays offthe cops to leave us alone in here. Outside of this bar you’re on yourown. You have to be careful out there.” I was determined. “I still wantto try it,” I said. “Okay,” said Patty, “I can’t stop you. Stick towhere I told you to, and watch out for cops. Their out in both uniformsand plain clothes tonight!””I will,” I said, and got up to leave.In a moment, I was out on the street. There were a couple of other”girls” that I knew from the bar out there too, so I felt reasonablysafe. I started off by walking slowly and seductively up 8th Avenue to46th street, then back down to 45th Street, and around the corner towhere the back door to “The Gilded G****” was. A number of potentialjohns looked me over, but none stopped. Then I heard on of the othergirls say, “D’ya wan’a date?” to a john, and he stopped to talk to her.That must be the code phrase. I guessed I should try it too.I also noticed that the girls only walked the street enough so as notto be picked up for loitering. The johns were left to come to them. Thedoorway in front of the beauty supplies store next to “The GildedG****” was vacant, so I settled in there to wait for someone to noticeme. I soon knew why most of the street girls smoked. It was boring juststanding there, and I wished I had a cigarette just for something todo.Then I saw a guy looking at me. He was tall, and well built with curlyblack hair that made him look very Italian. His face was rugged andhandsome. He walked by the doorway very close to me, and gave me a lookas he passed. A few steps later, he stopped, turned, and came backagain. As he passed me this time, I said, “Do you want a date?”He stopped, and looked me over. “What?” he asked.I said, “Do you want a date?””What sort of date?” he asked.I was not sure what was going on, so I said, “Would you like to go tothe hotel with me? It’ll only cost you twenty-five for me, and ten forthe room.”He looked very seriously at me, and said, “You are asking me to pay youtwenty-five dollars, so that we can go to the hotel where you will havesex with me. Is that correct?”I did not understand why he was asking me that way, but I replied,”Yes,” and waited for his response.His response was to reach into his pocket, and pull out his wallet.This flipped open, so that he could hold up his policeman’s badge!I wanted to run, but my feet were riveted to the pavement. “You havesolicited me for the purpose of prostitution,” he said in a cop’smonotone voice. “I therefore place you under arrest in the name of theCity of New York.” He took one of my wrists, and pulled it behind me. Iheard the click of his handcuffs as they snapped around that wrist, andthen the same on my other wrist. With my arms handcuffed behind me, hewalked me to the north side of 46th Street where a police van waited. Isoon joined four other prostitutes inside. The shove my life had neededhad come. I was arrested!I could not believe what had just happened. The van was dark inside,but I could make out the faces of my companions enough to know that Ihad never seen them in “The Gilded G****” before. They must all havebeen real-girls.The van smelled like a urinal that someone had been trying todisinfect, and the seats were just plain wooden boards. Two of thegirls were talking about how they were going to be out of jail as soonas they called their pimp, and swapping stories about the johns thathad fucked them that night. A tall blonde with huge breasts sat insilence in one corner, and seemed almost to be napping. The fourth girlwas bent over, and sobbing piteously. I just sat in disbelief staringat them. We all had our hands handcuffed behind us.Twenty minutes later the door of the van swung open, and another blondegirl joined us. She bumped against me as she sat down, but saidnothing. The glazed expression on her face said that she was not quitein contact with the world around her. She looked d**gged.”Take this load down to The Tombs,” came the sharp voice of a policesergeant through the open door, “and come right back! We should make agood haul tonight.” Then the door slammed shut, and we were left in thedark with only the sobbing to break the silence.The motor of the van started with a roar, and we began to move. Theseats and suspension were not made for comfort, so we bounced back andforth as the van weaved through the Manhattan traffic. Each time we hita bump, my little tush was bounced on the hard wooden seat. Thehandcuffs had been put on tightly, and were chafing my wrists. Thesmell in the van was nauseating.Then the glassy eyed girl next to me leaned forward, and started tovomit! I jumped away from her, and slammed into one of the girls whohad been talking. “Watch what you doin’, bitch!” she shouted, andshoved me back. The van hit a bump, and the vomiting girl fell to thefloor. She just lay there in the mess she had made. All we were leftwith was the gurgling sounds of her retching, and the sobbing of theother girl. There was vomit on my skirt and leg that I could not doanything about with my wrists handcuffed behind me. I felt like cryingtoo.The van halted at last, and we sat for a moment in the dark. The dooropened, and a policeman in the doorway said, “All right, ladies, laststop! All out for The Tombs!” Then he saw the girl lying in the pool ofvomit on the floor. “Fer chrissakes!” he said. “Hey, Harry! Get a stretcher and a mop! We got a puker, and she’s passed out. CallBellevue, and get an ambulance over here.”They made the rest of us stay in the stench of the van while theypulled her out on the stretcher. Then we got out. One cop stood in thedoorway to hold out arms, so we would not slip on the vomit coveredfloor on the way out. He grabbed a feel of my ass as I passed him.We were taken inside, and a policewoman took our names and addresses. Igave my name as “Bobbi” like I always did, but she did not ask what sexI was. She typed it all onto a form, and then took an inventory of mypurse for the record. “You’ll get this back when you’re released,” shesaid putting a tag on the property bag that now held my purse. “Comewith me!” She led me into a room that had a series of cubicles withtelephones in them. “You get one phone call,” she said. “Make it a goodone.”I went to an open cubicle. Who should I call? Margo would be too drunkby now if she was home at all. Edith would be home, but I did notremember her number. There was only one person I could call. Peter wasall but a lawyer too. He would know what to do. Nervously, I dialed hisnumber, and prayed he would be home.”Hello?” said Peter’s voice at the other end of the line. “Peter, thisis Bobbi,” I said. “I need…””Hi, doll!” Peter interrupted. “I had a really good time last night.Can we get together agai…””Peter! I’m in jail!” I broke in.”What… what do you mean you’re in jail?” he said.”I got arrested, and I need help!” I replied.”Okay, doll,” Peter said. “Calm down. What was the charge?” The nextword I said was not what I wanted to say to him. I swallowed hard, andsaid, “Prostitution!”There was a long pause on the other end of the telephone line. ThenPeter spoke in cold, measured tones. “Did you do it?” he said. Ithought carefully, and said, “I didn’t go to bed with him. I was on thestreet, and this guy was looking me over. I propositioned him on alark. I didn’t know he was a cop.””Did you ask for money?” Peter asked quickly.”Yes,” I answered quietly, and with shame in my voice.Peter had lost the happy tone in his voice when he spoke to me. Itwould never really come back again. “Where are you?” he asked.”The Tombs,” I replied.”I’ll get you a lawyer,” Peter said. “Do whatever they tell you to,don’t answer any questions until the lawyer gets there, and don’t makeany more trouble. I’ll see you in the court.”Then Peter hung up. I was shaking all over, but managed to make it backto where the policewoman was waiting for me. “Here,” she said holdingout a packet of tissues for me. “You look like you need these more thanI do.” It was only then I noticed I was crying.She led me out of the room, and into another where she did a quick patdown body search. Then we went down a long hall, and through a baredgate. There were dozens of cage-like cells inside. She opened one, andput me inside with five other women. There were six bunks in the cellin two tiers of three. “Have a good night, ladies,” she said. “We’llsee you in the morning. Got too many in Night Court to do you now.”The clang of the cell door closing went through me like a lightningbolt. Stone walls do not a prison make, but cold steel now held mefast. I was now imprisoned physically as well as biologically.Sub-title: At Mother’s KneeI stared out into the middle distance through the bars of the cell. Mywhole life seemed to have fallen in on me. From the way he had soundedon the phone, I had just lost Peter. I now had a police record as acommon street prostitute. He would not want me anymore.How could I tell Edith what had happened? Would she still want me as adaughter now? Would Dr. Benjamin find out? What would he say about it?Margo would probably laugh, and give me a lecture about letting myselfbe suckered by that cop. The “G.G.Girls” would gossip about it all overthe bar. Patty would have a cynical remark to make. A thousandquestions and scenes ran through my mind. What would become of me?”First time you’ve been busted, honey?” said a voice behind me. Iturned to see a woman in her late twenties looking at me. She was aboutmy height with long honey-blonde hair, and was dressed very fashionablyin an understated sexy way. “It’s all right,” she said. “It happens toall of us from time to time. What name do you go by?” I dried my eyeswith a tissue. At least she was someone to talk to. “Bobbi,” I said.”That’s a pretty name,” she said. “My name is Helen. You ought to getsome sleep. You look like you could use it. They’ll have us up at sixfor breakfast, and you won’t get much rest with all the noise in hereall night as it is.”I shook my head. “I don’t think I could sleep here,” I said.Helen shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, “but I’m going to get somesleep. How about at least unzipping my dress for me?” I looked at herquizzically, and asked, “You’re going to get undressed?””Well,” she replied, “I don’t want to get this dress wrinkled, so wejust sleep in our underwear. That is… as long as you’re wearing someunderwear.” She laughed at that, and I even laughed a little too. Shedid not seem to be bothered much that she was in jail for prostitution,but then, she did not look like a prostitute. The ones I knew wereeither the street hookers with their flashy clothes and slutty ways, orthe girls of “The Gilded G****” who only differed in the plumbing oftheir biological gender. Helen did not look like either of those types.She looked very sexy, but with class. She looked like an executive’swife on her way to a party at the company president’s house.”Well?” Helen said turning her back to me, and holding up her hair togive me access to the zipper at the back of her dress. “I’m wearingunderwear. Could you do my zipper?” I tugged down the tab to open theback of her dress, and said, “You don’t dress or act like the othershere. Are we all in for the same thing?” Helen looked pleased as sheremoved her dress exposing her satin and lace, white lingerie, and thevoluptuous body that it encased. “Thank you,” she said. “No… we’reall just whores in here. I just don’t work the street. I’m a call-girl.”Helen hung her dress on a hook near the bunk she had picked forherself. “Need any help?” she asked.”With what?” I replied.”Well,” Helen said, “you were nice enough to help me with my dress, soI thought I’d return the favor. You might also need some help into thattop bunk. You wouldn’t want to fall.”I resigned myself to the fact that, like it or not, I was going to haveto sleep here tonight. I turned my back to allow Helen to unzip mydress. As she did it, she ran her hand down my back in a caress thatsent shivers down my spine. Her hands then spread the back of my dress,and in so doing, caressed my shoulders continuing down my arms. “Whatare you doing?” I asked. “You have lovely skin,” replied Helen. “I’dvery much like to touch more of it.”Helen looked me in the eyes with a look that I had up to then only seenin the eyes of men intent upon seducing me. Before I could speak, shesaid, “You don’t belong out on the street. You could make a lot moremoney, and live a lot easier working with me. I have two other girls,and I act as a sort of ‘agent’ for them. I take the calls, set up thedates, and you get ninety percent of the fee plus any extras the clientmight give you. Think about it. I’ll give you my card in the morningwhen I get my purse back. You can call me, and we’ll have lunch to talkit over. That way maybe we can get to know each other a lot bettertoo.”Helen was a Lesbian! She had all but just flat out propositioned me. Ihad to say something. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me,” Isaid. “Oh?” Helen replied. “Can I trust you with a secret?” I asked.Helen nodded. “I think I’m in the wrong cell,” I said. “I was arrestedfor prostitution, but despite the dress and lingerie… I’m really aboy!”Helen looked at me in surprised disbelief. She stood close in front ofme, pulled my dress to the floor, and reached back into my crotchgripping my little penis gently between her fingers. Her eyes grew evenwider in surprise as she did. “I don’t believe it,” she said calmly.”You even had me fooled. It’s no wonder the cops didn’t catch on.””Do you still want me working for you?” I asked picking up my dress,and hanging it on the hook next to Helen’s. She gave me a sly smile,and said, “Yes! Yes I do. I know a few clients who just mightappreciate your special talents. We’ll talk over lunch.” Helen helpedme into the top bunk, and gave my ass a playful squeeze in doing so. “Iprefer women as lovers,” she said, “but I might just make an exceptionwith you!” Then she kissed me quickly on the lips, and slid into herbunk. I lay back to think. Was I now to be a call-girl too? It took meonly a minute to fall asleep. It had been a long day.= = * = =The lights came on, and a loud bell jarred us all out of our fitfulsleep. “Six o’clock, ladies!” shouted a voice on the public addresssystem. “Rise and shine! Breakfast starts in thirty minutes!” Istretched under the cover of a single, rough, woolen blanket. It tookme a minute to remember where I was. I looked around to see the othersdragging themselves out of the bunks.I slid my legs over the edge of the bunk, and sat there for a minute toadjust my bra. For obvious reasons, I had not taken it off last night,and it had twisted to let my falsies show a bit. Luckily the otherscould not see it under my full slip. While I was doing it, I feltdainty fingers run their nails gently up the back of the calf of myright leg. I looked down, and saw Helen getting out of the bunk below.”Good morning,” she said in a pleasant, but somewhat sleepy voice. Shestood up, and stretched. She wore only a pair of white lace panties.Her body was smooth and tight with just enough of the hint of anallover tan to make her look healthy. The best part of her for me,however, was her bust. Helen’s breasts were not huge, but they werebig, round, and full. They were the sort of breasts that you see on thegirls in a “Playboy” centerfold. They were the sort of breasts thatmost men go wild over. They were the sort of breasts that I wanted tobe able to wear proudly on my own chest. I could not help but stare atthem.Helen cocked her head to one side, and said, “Well, I like when peoplelook at my body, and appreciate it. I can see that you like what youare looking at.” I blushed, and said, “I like to show off my body too,but for the reason that you found out about last night, I don’t think Iwant to do it here.” We giggled like schoolgirls at that. “But thatgives me a problem,” I said. “I have to pee!”There was a toilet in the cell, but it just sat out in the open againstthe wall by the sink. There was no privacy at all. “Well,” said Helen,”if I stand at the sink to wash while you go, that should help alittle.” We tried it, and I managed to get my panties down under myslip, and sit down before anyone noticed my little penis. As thepressure in my bladder was relieved, I lost the morning hardon that Ihad. I would be so glad when the doctor removed that useless lump offlesh for good, and I would never have that annoyance again.I reached back between my legs to wipe away the last few drops withsome paper, and secretly return my little penis to its tuck. “We allseen cunts like yours before!” said a big black girl who stood naked infront of me as I finished pulling up my panties. “You don’t gott’a hideit in here. Now get outt’a my way. I gott’a take a wicked piss!” Shesat down, farted loudly, and relieved herself as I washed my hands, andreturned to the bunks with Helen.I lifted the hem of my slip to put on my garter-belt, and sat on a bunkto pull on my stockings. Helen was doing the same. “You have greatlegs,” she said. “Thank you,” I replied. “I’m a dancer, or at leasttrying to be. It’s a lot of work, but it keeps me in shape.” Helenstood to put on her bra taking those wonderful breasts from my view. “Ireally would like to have you working with me and my other girls,” shesaid. “I know quite a few men who would like to have you in bed. Wouldyou like to be a call-girl?” Without hesitation, I said that I would.”Good,” Helen answered. “Wait for me after court, and I’ll give you mycard. Since this is your first offence, they’ll let you go with just afine, and a lecture from the judge. I have some things to do today, butcall me between six and eight tonight, and we’ll set something up wherewe can talk. Help me zip my dress, and we’ll have some breakfast. Herecomes the matron.” We adjusted each other’s dresses and hair, and thenfiled out of the cell with the others to go to the mess hall.I really did not feel like eating. The little wave of elation that Ihad started to feel from talking with Helen was soon lost in a sea ofdepression as the depersonalization of the mess line drove a newrealization of where I was back into my mind. I was in jail like oursociety felt any common street whore should be. The dregs of the vastflesh and slime pits of New York City surrounded me. Helen stood behindme in line hovering protectively, but nothing she could do would removethe depression I felt now. I just knew I had lost Peter, some of myfriends, and most of my self-respect. I just knew that I would bebetter off dead.All I took was a cup of bad coffee, and the least burnt piece of toastI could find. Helen ushered me to one of the long tables, and shovedthe way for us to sit at the end of one of the benches with a few sharpwords and an elbow to a very butch woman who was apparently about to bearraigned for shooting a liquor store clerk in an armed robbery. Shelet me sit on the end of the bench where the others could not bother mephysically. “The food’s lousy in The Tombs,” she said. “Rikers Islandhas a better mess hall, but you wouldn’t want to go there for thecuisine.” I smiled at her little joke, but it did not cheer me up.We ate mostly in silence. I was just feeling too low to talk. Then wewere all marched back to the cell to await the opening of court at teno’clock. We spent that time in some idle chatter, but nothing of anyconsequence happened. All I could think of was court, and how I couldface Peter there. He had said that he would be there with an attorney.How could I possibly face the man I loved this way? I cried a lot onthe inside while I waited. At least we did not have to wait long.”Okay, girls,” said a very tall and mannish appearing policewoman,”it’s time to get ready for the judge!” She opened the cell door, andwe all filed out to join her and another female corrections officer.They took us back to the driveway where we had come in the nightbefore, and loaded us into another truck for the short trip over to thecriminal courts building. “Don’t worry about your purse,” said Helenreassuringly. “It’ll be at the property office at the courthouse whenthey release you. I don’t know what order they’ll call us, but ifyou’re before me, wait for me on the front steps, so I can give you mycard. If I get called first, I’ll wait for you there.”It only took a few minutes to get to the courthouse, and soon we werein an elevator on our way up. We went down a couple of back corridors,and were let into a long, narrow room with two rows of seats along itslength. It was really a small room, or cell since two walls were allbars, inside of the courtroom to the right of the judge’s bench as youfaced it. The door we had come through led only to the corridor, andthe back wall of the cell was just part of the courtroom wall. Thefront and other end of the cell were made of bars with plexiglass onthe outside, and a wooden panel fence along the bottom. It looked likea jury box that had been enclosed with bars. There was also a baredceiling. The plexiglass was to keep our noise out of the courtroom.Our little group had increased in number, so there were ten or twelveof us who sat in the box including two men. It turned out that we wereall prostitution cases as part of some sort of special crackdown thatThe City was having. I guess Mayor Lindsey was making some politicalpoints. Prostitutes are always easy targets for that. They do not fightback against the police the way a mugger or armed felon might, so thearrest rate goes up with less hassle. It looks good from a politicalstandpoint, but does little to cure the social problems that are thecause of prostitution in the first place. Fixing that might cost money,and that would not be good politically.We settled into our seats, and nervously, my eyes scanned the courtroomsearching for a familiar face. I saw none, and now was as much scaredthat Peter would not show up, and I would have to face the judge alone,as I was that he would show up, and I would have to face him in myshame. I was about to give up looking when the courtroom door opened,and I saw his boyishly handsome face appear. He held the door for aminute, and a middle-aged, balding man followed him in. Peter wastalking to him, so I assumed this was the lawyer he had promised tobring along. The real shock of that day, however, was the person withthe lawyer. It was Edith! How and why had they brought her?The lawyer took Edith to a seat near the front while Peter went to theBailiff’s desk. I could see him say a few words to the Bailiff, takesome papers from him, and return to where Edith and the lawyer sat. Thetwo men immediately engaged in some conversation over the papers, but Isaw Edith scanning our cell quite obviously looking for me. I was inthe front row, so I leaned forward, and ventured a small wave. An angrylook from one of the policemen in the cell to watch us intimidated meback into the seat, but a return wave from Edith told me that she hadseen me. She tapped Peter on the shoulder, and pointed in my direction.He glanced up for a second, and then went back to talking with thelawyer.It was strange, but I felt a little calmer now. I had been scared, butjust knowing they were all here with me made me feel better. I was evenglad that Edith was there. She really was like having a mother. Herwave had born nothing but a genuine caring. There was no criticism init. She smiled warmly at me. Even if I had lost Peter, I could consolemyself in the knowledge that someone cared. It was not the same sort ofcaring as I had hoped for with Peter, but it was something.”All rise!” came the call of the Bailiff as a door swung open, and theJudge entered the courtroom. “Hear ye! Hear ye! Municipal Court in thecity of New York is now in session! The honorable Judge Walter Kincaidpresiding!” The Judge mounted his bench, shuffled a few papers, andtold the Bailiff to call the first case. I just sat, and watched as thefirst two prostitutes had their time before the Judge. Both wererepresented by the Public Defender, given a one-hundred dollar fine,and released. Helen smiled knowingly at me, and whispered, “See? I toldyou it wouldn’t be too bad.”Helen was next to be called, and she walked out of the cell in a veryregal manner. A quite distinguished looking man came out of thevisitor’s gallery, and identified himself as her attorney. Heimmediately asked to approach the bench with the Prosecutor, and handedthe Judge some papers. The Judge looked over the papers, exchanged afew words with the attorney and Prosecutor, and rang down his gavelannouncing another one-hundred dollar fine. Helen smiled back at me asshe left the Court with her lawyer. She had it all together.Then I heard my name being called, and I went out into the courtroom.The man who had been with Peter came forward, and identified himself asmy lawyer, adding, “We wish to enter a plea of guilty noting that thisis the Defendant’s first offence of any sort, and knowing that theCourt will take this into consideration. The Defendant’s mother ishere, and will take matters in charge after the Court has passedsentence.” The Prosecutor indicated that he had nothing to add, and theJudge seemed to snicker that my mother would take charge of things.”Young woman,” said the Judge, “this is not a matter that should betaken lightly, but I am inclined to be lenient this morning.Prostitution is not something that one does for a simple thrill. It isa crime, and should be treated as such. The law prescribes a one-hundred dollar fine, and so shall be your sentence, but I will suspendsentence to release you into the custody of your mother who I am surewill impose a tougher penalty on you than I ever could. I don’t want tosee you in here again!” He then rang down his gavel, and called for thenext case. I was free!My lawyer and I joined the others, and we left the courtroom. Outsidein the hall, Peter said, “Thanks, Uncle Lenny,” then turned to me, andadded, “Bobbi, allow me to introduce my uncle who is a partner in thelaw firm I work for. I thanked “Uncle Lenny” too, and then Peter saidhe wanted a private word with me.Stepping aside from the others, he said, “If you needed something, evenmoney, you should have asked me! I care very much about you, and Ithought we might even work something out, but now I just don’t know. Ihave to think about things. I may call you, but I have some thinking todo first. I didn’t want it to be this way, and I still don’t. I justdon’t know what to think now. Maybe I’m crazy, but I thought you weredifferent from the rest. I will call you, but I need time to think. Myuncle and I have another appointment now. Don’t worry about his fee.It’s on the house this time. Here’s your release papers and propertyreceipt. Take them to the property office on the third floor, andthey’ll give you your things. I’ll call you in a week or so.” Then hekissed me quickly on the cheek, and left with his uncle. I had a tearin my eye as he walked away.”He’ll be back,” said Edith touching me gently on the arm. “I don’tknow, mom,” I said almost without realizing I had called her that. “Ithink it’s over for good, and it really never got started.” Edith gaveme a motherly smile, and said, “Mothers have ways of knowing about suchthings. Look, I don’t know why you did what you did, but I’m still withyou. Right now, let’s get out of here. We’ll talk over lunch and sometea. My treat. Okay?”I agreed easily. There was nothing else I wanted to do just then butget out of the courthouse. We went to the Property Office on the thirdfloor, and I retrieved my purse. Then there was a quick, but vitallyimportant, stop in the Ladies Room to fix my hair, refresh my make-up,and adjust things so I was pretty enough to face the street again. “Isure could use a shower before we have lunch,” I told Edith. “Maybe wecould stop by my place on the way?””I guess we could,” Edith said. “I took the whole day off, and I’venever seen your apartment. A mother should see how her daughter lives.”It was a little chilly and overcast as we stepped out into the outsideworld. A lone figure waited for me on the courthouse steps. “I’ll justbe a minute, mom,” I said to Edith as I walked over to Helen who wasleaning against a handrail and smoking a cigarette.She had that look of lust in her eye again as she watched me approach.”I told you it wouldn’t be bad,” she said. “He gave you the standardfine, right?””Yes,” I said, “but suspended for first offence.” Helen looked a bitsurprised. “That’s even better,” she said. “Now let’s get you into abetter line of work. Here’s my card. Call me tonight, and we’ll set upa time to talk more about this. It’s time you made some real money!”Then she departed.”Who was that?” Edith asked when I got back to her.”Oh,” I replied, “just a friend I met last night. I might see her laterthis week for lunch.” Edith looked at me with a mother’s worry on herface. “You just be careful now,” she said. “I will, mom,” I answered.We hailed a cab, and headed uptown to my apartment.Margo was still asleep when we got there, as usual. I ushered Edithinto the living room, and went to make us some coffee. While the coffeewas perking, I gave Edith the obligatory tour of the apartment, and shemade all of the obligatory comments and compliments about it. “How muchof this is actually yours, and not Margo’s?” Edith asked as we sat downto coffee in the living room after the tour. “Not much,” I replied.”Just my clothes, my bed, the dresser, and the nightstand, lamp, andclock radio in the bedroom. Margo owns, rents, borrows, or steals therest.” Edith giggled, and whispered, “Good. I was sure you had bettertaste than this!” I was glad that she had whispered it, for when Ilooked up, Margo was standing in the doorway.”Having company early today, aren’t we?” she said in a tone that wasmore gracious than I might have expected from her this soon aftergetting up. “You must be Edith,” she continued. “Bobbi has told me justso much about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.” Something wasup. The only people Margo was this nice to were tricks with a taste forbooze, and hundred dollar bills bulging their pockets. Edith greetedMargo pleasantly, and then Margo said, “I’d really love some coffee.Bobbi, if you’ll join me in the kitchen, we can get more for everyone.”It was obvious that she wanted to talk privately, so I followed herinto the kitchen.”Where were you all night?” Margo asked as soon as we were inside. “InThe Tombs,” I said. “I got arrested for prostitution.” Margo looked alittle surprised, and said, “Oh. Are you all right?” She genuinely wasconcerned about me. “Yes,” I said. “I’m a little shaky, and I need ashower, but I’m all right. What’s up? You want to talk, right?”Margo poured some coffee, and lit a cigarette. “Carol and I had a longtalk last night,” she began. “Just let me say this all the way throughbefore you say anything, Okay? It’s not going to be easy to say, or foryou to understand. I know you don’t like Carol anyway. Will you justlisten?” I said I would. I knew, however, that it would not be good ifCarol was involved.Margo took a deep drag on her cigarette, and said, “You know full wellthat Carol and I are lovers. You also know that Carol is into bondageas a drag Dominatrix. Well, last night I consented to be her permanentslave. She has to move from where she is living, so she is going tolive here. She ordered me to tell you to move out.”Margo was not having an easy time in saying this, and had to lightanother cigarette to keep going. “I didn’t want to,” she continued,”but she whipped me until I agreed. I have to do what my Mistressorders me to do. She wants to use your room for a torture chamber. Shewanted to give you two weeks to find another place, but I talked herinto thirty days. This isn’t an easy thing for me to do, but I have to.Please try to understand.”I was shocked, and Margo was actually crying. I had never seen her crybefore. I tried to comfort her with a hug, and said with tears in myown eyes too, “That’s all right. I do understand. We had some goodtimes, and I hope we’ll still be friends. I’ll be all right.” Inside, Iwas angry and frustrated! Being arrested, and losing Peter was badenough. Now what would I do?We had just gotten back to the living room when the doorbell rang. Itwas a messenger with a telegram for me. I opened it, and got anothershock. It was from the department store terminating my employment!Somehow they had found out that I had been arrested, and said that thestore’s image would be damaged if they continued to employ me. “How didthey know?!” I exclaimed. I knew that the store was not overly pleasedwith having me working there since I had started dressing for work inan effeminate manner. I guess that they were ready to use any pretextat all to get rid of me. The only thing that had kept me there wasPaul, and he did not work there anymore.”I’m afraid,” Margo said through her tears, “that it might have beenme. They called while I was asleep, and I said you had probably beenbusted. It was a joke, but they probably took it seriously, and checkedyour social security number on your wrap sheet with the cops. They dothat sometimes.”I felt like my life was over. I had just lost Peter, my apartment, myjob, my good name, and most of my self-respect all in the last twenty-four hours. If I were ever to consider suicide, it was then, and thethought seriously ran through my mind. I just sat on the sofa, andcried. Edith and Margo tried to console me, but there was nothing leftto do but cry. I really wished I was dead!”I think you should have that shower now,” Edith said after manyemotional minutes. “Then we’ll have lunch, and try to sort things out.I told you that I was with you all the way, and I’m here for you now.Mother will do what she can.” That calmed me down a little bit, but notvery much. I went to my bedroom, stripped to the skin, and went to theshower. I eyed the medicine cabinet, and thought about just how manypills I could get down to solve all my problems, but that was not theway. Maybe Edith could help. I decided to at least hear what she had tosay. I could always kill myself later.I dressed in a rather plain blue dress, and rejoined them in the livingroom. Edith and Margo were talking quietly, but stopped when I entered.”Ready?” asked Edith. “Ready,” I replied, and we left for lunch. I wasin a daze. I did not know what I would do.The Times Square area is known for big theaters and restaurants withlots of flash and noise, and some of the more interesting night spotsin The City. Those were hardly the sort of place that I needed to be innow. There are also a great number of bars catering to almost everytaste, pleasure, and perversion known to humankind. As much as I wouldhave liked to have just retreated into an alcoholic haze like Margodid, that was not the way either. There are, however, nestled in theside streets, a very few small cafes where you can get tea served in areal ceramic teapot, and listen to at least a recording of a stringquartet in the background. It was at a booth in one of these that Isoon found myself.Edith ordered a pot of tea for us, and watched me as I tried to drainoff enough emotion to allow me to speak without starting to cry again.After a few minutes, she took a sip of tea, and asked, “What actuallyhappened last evening? Your Peter called me last night at home. I thinkMargo gave him my number from your address book. All he said was thatyou had been arrested, and would probably need someone to be with thismorning when you were released. I didn’t know the charge until I got tothe courthouse.” I pulled myself together, and said, “It was justsupposed to be a joke, mom. I just wanted to see what the guy would do.I didn’t know…””Wait a minute, Bobbi,” Edith interrupted me with a look of both hurtand anger crossing her face, “that story might have worked on theJudge, but I think I am entitled to a little better than that!” I wassurprised. Edith had never gotten angry with me before, but here shewas in a rage. I did not know what to say, but she certainly did.”I told you I was going to treat you as my daughter,” Edith continued,”and that is just what I am going to do! You call me ‘mom’ now, but youstill see fit to lie to me like any stranger on the street. Maybe Idon’t have any right to talk to you like this, but maybe your callingme ‘mom’ gives me that right. If you don’t like what I have to say, youcan walk out of here, and I’ll just wish you luck with the rest of yourlife, but you’re going to listen to what I have to say right now first!My taking off work, and coming to the courthouse for you earned me atleast that much even if this ‘mom’ stuff is just another game to you!I’m tired of playing games. I’ve lived enough of life to know where thegames end and reality begins, and it’s time you learned about thattoo!”I did not dare to even breathe. I was fixed in my seat by her wordslike a small c***d being chastised by her parent. I had only seen oneside of Edith up to that day. It had been fun to have a “mother” as aspecial friend to shop and have lunch with, but I was learning thatthere were two sides to mothering. If I wanted to enjoy having one, Ialso had to grant her the right to the other. All I could do waslisten.”Do you want to know what reality is?” Edith asked. “Reality isn’t whatyour next party dress will look like, or if you’re going to be able toafford dance class anymore. Reality is the cold in your bones, and thehunger in your belly. Reality is doing things that you loathe just tostay alive! Reality is giving up some of your soul to keep your bodygoing!! You think that prostitution is a game? Prostitution is a way tosurvive when you are new in a country, and nobody will give you a realjob so you can eat! Don’t ever think that I don’t know whatprostitution is. It was a way for me to survive until…”Edith’s voice trailed off, lost in the emotion. There was even a tearin her eye. She took a drink of tea, and said, “I told you that Iwanted to help. Even if you don’t take the ‘mom’ part seriously, I takethe ‘daughter’ part very seriously! I know that you aren’t making muchmoney at the store. I also know that the things you’re doing, and thethings that you want to do, cost more than you probably have now. Ican’t pay for them, but I am willing to help in any way I can. All youhad to do was ask me. That’s what having a ‘mother’ is about, or hadyou forgotten that?”I felt just like her c***d. I wanted to crawl under the table, andwhimper. I had never before felt this kind of emotion from anyone. Ihad not gotten it from my natural parents. They were always too wrappedup in other things to care this way. I waited to see what was next.”Are you supporting yourself as a prostitute?” Edith asked straightout. “Don’t give me any song and dance. I’ve seen how you live now, andsome of the company you keep. I also had a long talk with Margo whileyou were changing. She’s not good for you to be living with. You saythat you want to be a real woman. Do you think that you’re going tomake it around all those parodies of women that you hang out with? Ifyou really want to do any of the things that you say you do, I’ll help.Just don’t patronize me with any cheap lies. What kind of life do youlead? I want the truth for a change!”I gave her the truth — all of the truth! It just poured out of me. Icould not stop it. I told Edith about my c***dhood, how I had firstdressed in my mother’s clothes, about Kenny the high school jock, how Ihad met Margo, about the first time in drag in public, how I had soldmy “virginity” as a drag queen to Frank, about Tina, Toni, Carol, UncleCharlie, Patty, Wendy, Tom, Dr. Benjamin, about every part of my life Icould think of, and still it kept coming!I told her how I had figured that turning five tricks a week would giveme enough extra income to pay my doctor and dance class bills. I toldher about the pornographic pictures that I had posed for. Every detailof my life came spilling out. I had lost so much that day that I couldnot stand losing Edith too. I could have just walked out as shesuggested, but all I would have done was step in front of a subwaytrain. If this was what it took to save the last good thing in my life,then I had to do it!I do not know how long I sat there just flushing my soul to Edith. Itwas long enough for her to order another pot of tea and two clubsandwiches for us. When I finished talking, I was too drainedemotionally to even cry anymore. I just sat back in silence, and waitedfor Edith to make the next move. I did not feel much like eating.”I guess you’re not walking out on me then?” asked Edith taking a biteof her sandwich. Something snapped inside me then, and I said, “No…mom!” and collapsed on the table, sobbing quietly. Edith put her handon my shoulder, and asked, “Now are you going to listen to your mother,and let her help?””Yes, mom,” I said through my tears. “Good,” Edith said. “Now sit up,dry your eyes, blow your nose, and do as I say.” I did as I was told.There was no question of my acceptance of Edith as my mother anylonger. The last knot in that emotional bond had been tied.”Eat your sandwich,” Edith said. “I don’t want a malnourished daughteron my hands.” I took a bite, and listened. “We’ll take one thing at atime,” she began. “You need a place to live, and I’ve got a spare room.You’re coming home with me today. I won’t have any daughter of mineliving in that apartment another night. When we’re done here, we aregoing back there to pack your clothes. You can sleep on my couch untilI get a mover to get your bed and dresser later in the week. I won’ttake any argument on this. I already told Margo, so you don’t have achoice. Mother knows best this time. All right?” All I could do wassay, “Yes, mom,” and eat my sandwich.”Take the rest of this week off, and stay at home,” Edith continued.”Then you can look for a new job next week. Wear a dress when you do.If you really want to be a woman, then act like one! Women don’t workas Gay stockboys! Just remember that this week off is my little gift toyou. You are going to find a job next week, or I’ll find one for you.Is that clear?””Yes, mom,” I answered.”I’ll tell you one thing, though,” Edith said in a low voice, andleaning toward me, “if you want to be a common street whore, then don’tcome home. As low as I might have gotten, I never did that. There arebetter ways of doing it, but don’t even consider them either until thegnawing in your gut from hunger gets so hard you can’t stand it! Thattrap is all too easy to fall into. It might seem pretty on the outside,but it just drags you down. Do you understand?””Yes, mom,” I said.”The last thing is about my mother,” Edith said softly. “Her name isSarah, and she lives with me too. She is very old now, and doesn’talways see or remember things clearly. If you just call her’grandmother’, she won’t know the difference. I’ve told her a littleabout you already, and she has asked when she is going to see hergranddaughter again. I don’t think she remembers what happened. Realityseems to have become less important for her than it once was. Treat herwell! She is very precious to me. Can you do that?””Yes, mom. I can,” I said.I had stopped crying by now, and was sitting up in my chair with alittle pout on my face. At first I had been terrified of Edith’schastising of me this way, that soon turned to hurt, but suddenly I wasgetting some very good feelings from it. My life had needed a push, andall that had happened in the last twenty-four hours gave me all thatwas needed.I had not lost everything. The only things I had lost were things thatI had to get rid of to go on. Edith’s lecture had made me realize that.I would live with her for a while. I still had a lot to learn from mymother, and I was eager for her to teach me. I would work as hard as Icould to win Peter back. He had said that he would call, so I mightstill have a chance. I had come another step along the way to my goal.”Sit up straight, and don’t slouch!” Edith snapped at me. I jumped toattention in my seat, and she giggled. “I always wanted to tell that tosomeone,” she said. “Mothers are supposed to do that, you know.” Ilooked at her with a pained expression on my face, and then I startedto giggle too. She was just what I needed then. I had started to settleinto that complacent existence that is the undoing of many, and notjust drag queens and transsexuals.It is easy to dream. Then we begin to see just how difficult theattainment of any dream in reality is, and the achievement of a littleof the dream becomes enough to satisfy us. We tell ourselves all sortsof stories, and find all sorts of reasons why we should stop somewhereshort of what should have been our real goal. We never get to fulfillour dreams. Then we wonder why we feel so miserable and frustrated withour lives. When will we ever learn?Edith was not going to let me do that. There was a lot more to thislady than I had imagined. I had always seen her as just the sweet,later middle-aged woman that was pleasant to have lunch with. Themother thing was a nice diversion that felt good, but that I had nevertaken seriously in quite this way. That was all just the surface ofEdith. Beneath that facade lay more strength than one would at firsthave imagined. There had been enough already to get she and her motherout of Estonia in 1939 before the Soviet annexation, establish herselfin Norway, flee Norway ahead of the Nazi occupation, begin a life inEngland, fall in love, bear a c***d out of wedlock, face the loss ofher lover to the War, suffer the death of her infant daughter, moveagain to the United States, and set up a life for her and her motherall over again. If I wanted her help with my own goals, she would notaccept a lesser commitment or effort from me!I did have a dream that I very much wanted to see come true. It was amodest dream, and not unlike the dream many people have. The dream wasto be able to live a simple, un-complex, and uncomplicated life. I didnot want to change the world, be famous, or even all that rich. I justwanted to lead a comfortable life as the woman that I wasintellectually, emotionally, and spiritually. The only think thatreally complicated that was the fact that I was biologically a male. Ihad, however, found a way to change that surgically. Edith was nowoffering me a way to change my entire life situation, and begin thejourney down the road that I needed to follow if I wished to make thatdream come true. What she was not offering was a safe haven in which tostagnate, or an easy means of turning back when the going gotdifficult. She would move forward with me, but if I stopped or tookanother direction, I would be alone.I thought about this for a long time. She was being tough with me, butthat was what I needed then. My life had just been given the shove itneeded out of the imaginary world of the drag queen. It was time toface up to the reality of what I wanted out of my life. I had to learna lot of things to get where I wanted and needed to be. What betterplace for a girl to learn these things than at mother’s knee!”I can really come and live with you?” I asked in a hesitant way, notyet believing that it was quite true. “That’s what I said,” repliedEdith. “I’d like to have my daughter with me for a while. My motherwill not mind either. Just treat her gently, and call her grandmotherwhen you speak. She will accept you as her granddaughter, and think youare the daughter I lost a long time ago. In a very real way, that iswhat you are to me, so we will not be hurting her by saying so. All ofthis will just make three women very happy to be a family again atlast.” I looked questioningly at Edith, saying, “Three women?” tryingto understand what she meant. “Yes,” she answered, “my mother, myself,and you. Welcome to being a woman all the time for the rest of yourlife!”A tiny tear of joy welled up in my eye. The way to my dream had foundme at last in every way. “Okay, mom,” I said composing myself. “Let’sgo!” Edith paid the check, and we went back outside to go to theapartment to pack my things. The sun was shining, and the first nip ofautumn was in the air. After all the depression, I actually felt aliveagain. Things seemed to be working out after all.Margo was not at home when Edith and I got back to the apartment. Sheleft a note saying that she would be back soon. “Humph!” I said when Iread it. “She probably wanted to get out of any work in helping uspack.” Edith retorted with, “Now, Bobbi, she doesn’t seem all that badfrom the talk I had with her. Why do you say things like that? Even ifit’s true, you only demean yourself by saying it. A lady doesn’t dothat.” Edith was, of course, correct, but Margo was like that. I stillthink of her as a friend, but she does not do things unless theydirectly benefit herself. I let the matter pass.I had three large suitcases that I dug out, and we packed my dressesinto these. We had passed by the grocery store on the way to theapartment, and picked up some large cardboard boxes. The rest of mythings went into the boxes. It was a tight fit, but after a little morethan an hour, we were all but done. That was the perfect cue for Margoto return, and right on schedule, she did, but she was not alone. Carolwas with her.”Well,” said Margo as she came in, and surveyed the now mostly emptyroom, “is there anything left that I can help with?” Carol just lookedat me with an evil leer. I wanted to scratch her eyes out. “No, Margo,”I said half sarcastically, “we’re just about done packing, but youcould help us carry these boxes down to the street.” Carol put up herhand, saying, “We’ve already got that covered. We got the spic k** fromthe basement coming up with a hand truck to do that.”I should have expected something like that. The young man they weretalking about was the superintendent’s son, and he had a “thing” forMargo. It was probably worth a quick blow-job from Margo to him fordoing the work. She got a number of things from him that way. “That’sgood, Carol,” I said, and finished my packing.It did not take much longer to get everything packed, and Margo wentdownstairs to get the helper Carol spoke of. The rest of us sat in theliving room to wait. “When are you gonna get your furniture outt’ahere?” Carol asked a little gruffly. She was not trying to be nasty,but her constant commanding way of speaking always rubbed me the wrongway. If I had answered, I probably would have said something I wouldhave regretted later, but Edith stepped in to field the question,saying, “I’m going to call a moving man I know later this afternoon. Heshould be able to get it in a day or so. We’ll call you tonight, andlet you know, but it will be before the end of the week.” Carol lit acigarette, and replied, “Good. I wouldn’t want Margo to have to chargeBobbi for storage.” She added a bit of a laugh at the end of that tosoften it, but I knew what she meant. Carol could be a real bitch whenshe wanted to. I did not like her at all.The icy mood in the room was broken when Margo returned with herhelper. He was Spanish, about six feet tall, and had a stringymoustache. He was also built! The muscles rippled under his t-shirt,and he surveyed all of us with a look that had only one motivationbehind it. Margo’s blouse had a small smudge on the front that told mehe had already copped at least a feel of her tits on the way up in theelevator. I would not have minded some of that treatment from himmyself. He was not overly handsome, but the sight of all those musclesmade my little penis twitch in its tuck. Margo kept this stud all toherself, though.”Let’s go,” Carol ordered, and the boy set about loading up the handtruck he had brought with him. He would have to make two trips, soEdith and Carol went down with the first load to watch things on thestreet. That left Margo and I alone in the apartment for the last time.”We’ve had a lot of good times here,” Margo said when the others haddeparted. “I’m going to miss you in some ways.” There was even the hintof a tear in her eye as she spoke, and we hugged in good-bye. “I amgoing to miss you in a lot of ways,” I said. We sat in silence for awhile until the boy returned for the last load. Then she kissed me onthe cheek, and we went down to the street.Edith had already hailed a cab, and the driver was putting boxes in thetrunk and front seat. The rest were soon loaded too, and Edith and Igot into the taxi for the ride to Queens. I watched Margo, Carol, andthe building grow small and disappear as we drove away. My new life wasreally beginning now. All of what went before was gone.After a time, I turned to face the front of the cab, and glanced overat Edith. We were at opposite ends of the back seat with boxes on thefloor in front of us, and another on the seat between us. It was luckythat we got a Checker cab, and not one from another manufacturer.Checkers have a lot more room. Edith just smiled at me. We did not needto speak. I am sure she knew something of what I was feeling at thatmoment as my life changed, and I was stealing away with my belongingsrather unceremoniously packed into some rude boxes like a refugeefleeing the invading horde. She had done this same sort of thing a fewtimes in her own life.The taxi made its way east over the Queensboro Bridge, and then turnednorth toward the Astoria section of the Boro of Queens where Edithlived. The streets out here were very different from the ones inManhattan. It was no small town sort of setting, but it was not thehustle and hubbub of the midtown area. There were even private homeshere. It did not take vary long at all to reach our destination, andsoon we stopped in front of a large, modern apartment building. It wasvery new, and looked like the type of place that would be beyond Edih’smeans as a clerical at the department store. All of the apartments hadterraces, and there was even a uniformed doorman. “Well,” said Edith asI sat in the cab trying to work this new puzzle out, “are you coming inwith me?”I got out of the taxi, and Edith set about arranging things. She hadthe driver deposit the boxes at the curb giving him an extra fivedollars on his tip for doing it. “Thomas,” Edith said turning to thedoorman, “please have these boxes brought up to my apartment as soon aspossible. Oh, and I would like to introduce you to Bobbi. She’ll bestaying with me from now on. Bobbi is my daughter.”Thomas looked a little surprised at Edith’s introduction of me as herdaughter, but he just nodded, and held the door for us as we entered.The lobby was all done in white marble with black accents, and my heelsclicked deliciously on the hard floor as we went to the elevator. Edithpushed the button for the twenty-forth floor, and soon we were at herapartment door. Her key clicked in the lock, and she called out, “Mom!I’m home!” as we went in.Inside in a large, comfy chair, sat a very ancient lady. She did notget up, and looked much too frail to do that anyway. Her eyes were deepset in her face from the long years she had seen. Her hair glistened inwhite and sliver where gold once shined. Her delicate body appearedweak and fragile now, but deep in her countenance a strength aspowerful as Edith’s still hinted. “Bobbi,” Edith said softly, “this isSarah, your grandmother. Mom, this is Bobbi. She’s come home to us!”The older woman looked at me in a way that did not stop at the surface,but reached deep inside of me. She would accept me for what Edith saidI was, but it was as if she still knew the truth in her heart. It was,however, all right with her that way. The arrangement seemed to suitall three of us for whatever diverse reasons we each had. It would workout very well for all of us. “Welcome back,” was all Sarah said in avoice heavy laden with the accent of her Estonian origin. The smile sheadded after the words, and the hug she gave me said all else. “Thankyou, grandmother,” I said. “It’s good to be back!”Edith showed me down a short hallway with four doors in it. “First onthe right is the bathroom,” she said. “First on the left is your room.Mine is the last on the left, and your grandmother’s is the other one.I’ll give you the whole tour later.” She opened the door to what was tobe my room. It was larger than I had with Margo, and inside was a sofawith two end tables and lamps. “There’s enough room for your bed anddresser even with the sofa,” Edith said. “You can sleep on it untilyour bed gets here. When the super brings the boxes up, have him putthem in here, and give him five dollars for his trouble. I’m going tomake a phone call.”Edith phoned the moving company while the superintendent delivered mythings. When he left, she said, “They can get your furniture tomorrowat one o’clock. Call Margo, and tell her. You don’t have to go withthem, but you’ll need to be here to pay them when they bring thefurniture. Call Margo now. I have to get dinner for us.””Yes, mom,” I answered.I called Margo, but I also called Helen. Margo was very happy that mythings were leaving so quickly. “Carol will be pleased,” she said. Thecall to Helen was a fast one because I wanted it to be, and she did nothave time to talk anyway. We made an appointment for lunch on Thursday.I was hanging up the telephone when Edith called us all to dinner. Thethree of us around the table even felt like a family. I had come homeat last!Sub-title: All the World is a StageA New Yorker’s life seems to be permanently tied to the taxicab. Withtaxis, The City is a horror of pollution, gridlock, and noise. Withouttaxis, life of The City would cease. New Yorkers are born in cabs, diein cabs, do business in cabs, make love in cabs, worry in cabs, sleepin cabs, laugh in cabs, cry in cabs, and go to all the places that NewYorkers go in cabs. New Yorkers complain about cabs, but New Yorkerscomplain about everything. Whatever may be said about taxis in New YorkCity, without them The City would cease to function. In midtownManhattan you just walk out to the curb, raise your arm, and cabs willstop to pick you up. Out in Queens you telephone the cab company, and they send one for you. So it was that I called a taxi that Thursdaymorning to go into Manhattan to keep my luncheon appointment withHelen. I was about to become a call-girl.My first night in Edith’s apartment had been generally quiet. The threeof us had chatted about many things over dinner. Sarah might have had aweak and frail appearance, but her mind was still active. She mightoccasionally forget small things, but she was nowhere near senility atall. She wanted to know all about me, and where I had been all theseyears. Edith told her that I had been living with an American family,and concocted a story about how she had sent me to America as a babyafter her R.A.F. lover had been killed in the war. She reminded Sarahabout how difficult things had been for them in England, and how theyhad talked of going to America.Edith said that she had been able to send me to an orphanage in NewYork. I said very little, and just nodded along with the story. Sarahtook it all in like an actress learning a script. She did not buy it,but would play her part as grandmother as Edith was writing it. Itwould harm no one to do so.Edith offered me a glass of sherry after dinner, and Sarah had one too.”It’s a habit we picked up in England,” she said. Sarah settled down towatch television, and Edith asked me, “Shall I give you the grand tournow?” It was as good a time as any, so I said, “Sure,” and followedalong after her carrying my drink as she did.The apartment was large and nicely decorated with each room having itsown sort of special character. The front door opened into a tiny foyerwith a coat closet. This led into the large living room with itsterrace looking to the northwest, and a distant view of the extremewestern reaches of Long Island Sound. Beyond the living room was alarge offset that was almost a room by itself. This was the formaldining area leading into a large, modern kitchen with a small breakfastnook affording much the same view as the terrace.Along the left wall of the living room as you entered from the frontdoor was the hallway with its four doors. The bathroom had a separatebathtub and shower stall. My room was, so far, rather plain, but Iwould change that soon. Sarah’s room was very old world Victorian.Edith’s room was very modern, but its most striking feature was a lifesize oil painting of a blonde woman, standing in a very provocativepose, and totally nude. The features of the face were so lifelike thatI started to ask just as Edith stopped me, saying, “Before you have toask, it is me. It was painted a long time ago, and there’s a story togo with it. I’ll tell you over some wine… someday.” Edith lookedstrangely at the portrait, but I did not press the question. She wouldtell me when she was ready.That night on the couch in my room was all right, but I felt better thenext day when my bed and dresser arrived. Edith had gone to work, andthat had left me alone with Sarah for the day. We talked and watchedtelevision, and somewhere during the day she said, “Wherever you havebeen is all right with me. My daughter has been hurt a lot in her life,and finding you has made her again happy. That is all that matters tome.” She knew the truth, but if acting her role in this made Edithhappy, then she would play it to the hilt. There was something aboutthis lady that I liked quite a lot. I enjoyed having her for agrandmother.The cab picked me up in front of the apartment building, and Thomas,the doorman, held the door for me as I got in. I know he gave my legs agood look too, but that was all right with me. I did not mind men doingthat. The taxi headed for Manhattan, and my lunch with Helen. I wasabout to get still another role to play in this life.The day was sunny, and I watched intently as the Manhattan skyline grewbigger as we approached. I wore a dark green jersey dress that did notconceal any feature of my body except for the one that was safelytucked away in my panties, back between my legs. I was wearing my bestjewelry, and had talked Edith into lending me her rabbit fur stole forthe occasion. I told her I was going to a job interview. I did not lie.I just did not tell her the sort of job it was. I needed the stole toward off the chill in the mid-September air. I wanted to look my bestthat day. A girl like me did not get invited to lunch at the St. RegisHotel every day.The cab drew up in front of the hotel, and I paid the driver. I gotquite a look from a very prosperous looking gentleman who was lightinga cigar as I swung my legs out of the taxi, and into his gaze. The lookfollowed me from the cab until I had gone into the hotel. Now othereyes picked me up as I crossed the thick carpets in the lobby. All ofthe men who watched me wore business suits, and looked as prosperous asthe man outside had. This might have been the era of the hippie, but Iliked the prosperity scene a lot better. Some girls might have enjoyedsitting in a room full of candles with a long haired guy with dirtyfingernails, but I much preferred a candle lit dinner for two in anelegant restaurant with a well groomed man in a three-piece suit. Theambiance of the St. Regis Hotel suited me well.I was about five minutes late from the approximate time we had set. Igave Helen’s name to the head waiter, and was escorted to a table.Helen was already there going over her appointment book. She greetedme, and we ordered a couple of glasses of white wine before lunch. Thetable was actually a secluded booth to one side of the restaurant awayfrom the windows. It did, however, afford us a good view of all thatwas going on, and all who were in the place. Helen had obviously beenhere many times before. She even spoke to the head waiter by name, andhe answered with hers.”I’m glad you could make it today,” said Helen with a smile once wewere alone. “I’ve spoken to a few of my clients who I thought might beinterested in what you have to offer, and there are a couple who wouldlike to meet you. Are you still interested in working with me like wediscussed?””That all depends,” I answered, “on what I would have to do. We talkedabout a lot of things, but I would like to know more. Who are theseclients? Do they call me at home? Do they visit me at home? I’m veryinterested, but I just don’t know much about this.”The waiter brought our wine, and Helen ordered a salad platter. I didthe same, and he went away again. Helen sipped her wine, and said, “Iguess we didn’t get too much chance to go into detail in the cell. Allright. First, as far as anyone is concerned, I run a modeling andescort service called Models-In-Minutes that you work for. That way weall have a legitimate way of paying income tax, and nobody hassles youthat way. I list your fees for assignments at the basic rate. I don’tdo withholding, but you can pay tax on the amount of the fee and theschedule, and pocket the difference in cash. The real rate you chargeis one-hundred a night or twenty-five an hour. I get ten percent ofthat, and you keep the rest. You keep any tip you get too. No punintended.”We laughed, and Helen continued, “No client ever calls you at home, orvisits you there. You go to them either at their home, or at a hotel attheir expense. Their only contact with you is through me. You call inonce a day to get your assignments. You give me a week’s notice if youhave something to do on a given day, and I won’t book anything for you.If you have to give shorter notice, we’ll discuss it, but I’m not anogre. We just try to respect each other. I won’t do anything to screwyou, and if you screw me, you are just off the list. This can be a gooddeal if you don’t mess it up.”Helen sipped some wine, and said, “Your clients are basicallybusinessmen looking for a little companionship. Most are out of townerswho come to New York on business, and don’t want to spend all the timealone, but a few live here. You may also be a salesman’s entertainmentfor a customer. You tell me the limits of what you’ll do first, andI’ll match that to the client’s needs. You do whatever the client wantsto do in the time limit he’s paying for. Some may want to get you inbed right away, but some will want you to go to dinner or dancing withthem first. There are a few who only want that with no sex involved atall. What do you think? Are you still with me?” I nodded agreement as the waiter brought our salads. I was almost a call-girl.Lunch was spiced with just some small talk about things in general.Helen was very interested in me in a lot of ways that did not seem torelate to my working for her. She had a genuine concern for what wasgoing on in my personal life as well. “I like to get to know my girls,”she said. “It helps me manage things better, and fit the assignments totheir personality. Besides, I like you as a friend. I don’t see myselfas a boss. I guess some might call me a Madam, and I don’t mind thattitle if it’s used correctly. I just like to look after my girl’swelfare. You and the others are the assets of this little business, andI want to protect that, but I also care about you all as people too.”Helen was kind and sincere. A lot of girls on the street wound upworking for some pimp who cared only about the money they brought in.Prostitution is not a easy business to be alone in. Some think it easyto just stand on a street corner to turn tricks, but that leaves youopen to everything from physical abuse, to robbery, to arrest. A pimpcan get you by some of that, but the degradations of being astreetwalker will tear you apart emotionally. Some think that placing acommercial ad in something like “Screw” magazine is better, but you getmore crank calls than you can handle, and you never know what sort ofweirdo you may be welcoming into your apartment that way. Those waysare dangerous, and degrading.The call-girl stands at the top of the profession if she has a Madamwho can handle things in the proper way. The Madam takes all the calls,and screens out the cranks, weirdos, and police as best she can. TheMadam, if she is good, will also screen the clientele, and give yousome assurance that things will go well. She is also a place to call ifyou do get arrested, or in some other sort of trouble, and has contactswith lawyers and doctors who can take care of those problems. A goodMadam will pay for those services if it is her fault that you got intothe trouble, but the girl is expected to handle the cost any othertime. Fair is fair. Helen was that sort of Madam. She always took careof things.I told Helen all about what had happened after I had last seen her onthe courthouse steps. She was interested in hearing all about Margo,and said she was happy that I was out of that environment. “It’s toobad that you aren’t living alone now,” she said. “Your Edith won’t be aproblem, will she?” I assured her that I could come and go as Ipleased, and that as long as none of my clients ever called me at home,things would be fine. She was also anxious that I get a regular jobtoo. “You’ll need one for a while,” she said. “The money sounds good,but you won’t work every night. My contacts are building, but theystill have a little way to go.””How many girls do you have?” I asked. “Well,” she replied, “I have twoothers that do the sort of assignments that we’re talking about, and Ihave a few special clients of my own. I also have fifteen others thatdo straight modeling assignments. Models-In-Minutes is a legitimatemodel agency too. That’s my real bread and butter. This is a sort ofenjoyable sideline.” That prompted a long discussion of my own modelingcareer. I told her about the coat modeling assignment, and the contractwith the photography studio. “I know Tom,” Helen said. “I’ve sent somepeople to him, and he keeps hitting on me for a date. I can list you asa model too, but bring me a copy of your contract with him first. Ican’t list you if it violates that contract. Are you sure you canhandle a model’s changing room with all the other girls watching youchange?” I smiled, and said, “I handled that cell including going tothe toilet, didn’t I?” Helen laughed, saying, “Yes you did. This justmight work out.”We laughed for a bit, and Helen said, “I might be taking on five moregirls and a guy next week for the nighttime assignments. I thought youshould know that. I know an older Madam who wants to retire, and I’mmeeting with her and her people on Sunday afternoon. I used to work forher, and they want me to take things over. The extra people won’taffect you directly, but I get her client book too. That could meanmore and better assignments. She has a lot of politicians and judges inthere. They are good to have when we need a favor, if you know what Imean.” Helen ordered some coffee for us, and asked, “So. Now that weboth know a lot more about this, what do you think? Are you ready tobecome a call-girl?” I nodded. I was ready.”When do I start?” I asked.”As soon as you fill out a job application for my agency, and I canline up some clients for you,” Helen answered. “As long as I keep youon just the escort service part of it, we don’t have to worry aboutyour contract with Tom. If you can bring that contract and your photoportfolio to my office on Monday morning at ten, we’ll see what we cando with you as a model.” I was going to the photo studio later that dayto pick up the pictures, so I told her that I would bring them. “Now,”said Helen, “we have one more part of this interview to do, but nothere. I have a room upstairs in the hotel for that. We’ll go up thereafter coffee. All right?” I nodded. What was this about?We finished the coffee, and Helen signed the bill. “Shall we go?” shesaid. I rose, and slipped my stole around my shoulders. Helen led theway out of the restaurant. We crossed the lobby to the elevators, andall male eyes followed our progress. I could imagine what they werethinking as they watched us. I liked that, but what I could not imaginewas what Helen wanted of me in her hotel room. I was soon to find out,but I still wondered anyway.There was a man with us in the elevator, and his eyes kept shiftingbetween the two of us as we rode up. I let the front of my stole dropto give him a little show of the bit of cleavage that I had, and hiseyes riveted to my chest. Helen smiled discretely at me in obviouspleasure at my teasing of him that way. He looked quite disappointedwhen we got out at the eleventh floor to go to Helen’s room.The room was actually a two room suite with a small bar. Helen fixed adrink for herself, and asked what I wanted. I took a Gin & Tonic. “Iknow you’re wondering what I wanted you to come up here for,” she said.”I thought it might be easier for us to discuss the more personalaspects of the job in a more private setting, and I would also like toget a photo or two of you here. I have a little catalog of my girlsthat I show to some clients, and we couldn’t do that in the restaurant.Is that all right with you?” I agreed. It sounded like a good idea.”Put on your stole, and stand by the sofa, please,” Helen asked. I did,and she produced a 35MM camera. I struck a pose, and the strobeflashed. I was in her catalog. “Sit down on the sofa, and hold yourdrink,” Helen said, and the strobe flashed a second time. “Now we needa few that may be a little more intimate,” Helen said. “Would you takeoff your dress?” I thought for a moment, but it seemed reasonable thather clients would like to see what they were getting, so I agreed, andreached for the zipper. “Not here,” said Helen. “We’ll do these in thebedroom.” She followed me to the bed.I stripped to just my bra, panties, garter-belt, hose, and heels, andHelen asked me to sit on the bed. The covers were already turned down,so I struck a few sexy poses there. Helen photographed all of them.”I have one personal request of you,” Helen said. “I’d like to see younude. I don’t show nudes to the clients, but I’d like some pictures ofyou that way for my personal album. Would that be all right?” This Ihad not expected, but I did not see the harm in it. I liked beingphotographed dressed or undressed, so I agreed, and started removing mystockings. Helen snapped a few pictures of me as I stripped, but sheseemed more intent on watching me undress for her. That was fine withme too, and soon I was lying nude on my back on the bed with my littlepenis still carefully in its tuck. Helen took four pictures of me thatway.”Could I see your cock?” Helen asked. I had sort of expected that.Almost everyone who saw me nude also wanted to see my penis. Some likedlooking at it for its own sake, and some needed to see it to satisfythemselves that I really was not a girl. Whatever the reason, if I hadgone that far, I always complied, even if it was never my favoritething to do. I flexed my thighs, and let my little penis out for Helento see.Helen just stared at it for a while. Knowing her line of work, this wasnot a sight that was unfamiliar to her, but she looked at my littlepenis as if it were the first time she had ever seen one. “It doesn’tlook right at all,” she said. “What doesn’t?” I asked. “That on you,”she replied. “Every other detail of your body, even when you’re nude,is that of a small breasted girl. You just don’t look right with acock.”I nodded, saying, “I just don’t feel right with one either. That’s whyI’m having it cut off as soon as the doctor says I’m ready.”Helen sat on the bed next to where I was lying. “When will that be?”she asked.”I see my doctor later today,” I answered. “He’s setting things up witha psychologist, so I can get it all started. I have to live and work asa woman for a year before surgery can begin.”Helen continued staring at my little penis, and also running her eyesover the rest of my naked body. “You’ll make a very nice girl,” shesaid. “You’re very beautiful as one already, and your skin is so soft.”She ran her fingers over my chest as she spoke, and my nipplesstiffened in excitement. “I know quite a number of women who would liketo be as pretty as you,” she said as her hand moved lower on my body,and came to rest on my now stiffening penis.I felt both surprise and pleasure as Helen’s hand held my little penis,and her fingers rolled the head of it between them. “I think I toldyou,” Helen said softly, “that I’m a Lesbian, but your body fascinatedme when we were in the cell together, and it fascinated me even morenow. I’ve made love with my other girls. Could I make love to you now?”I looked up into her eyes. I had never made love with a woman before,but this felt somehow right. “Will you take me the way you would anyother woman?” I asked. With a big smile on her face, she replied,”That’s the only way I want you.”Helen leaned over to put her face very near to my little penis. Hertongue flicked out to touch it, and my entire body stiffened withsexual excitement. She did not take it into her mouth in the manner ofa blow-job, but licked it the way a woman would lick at another woman’sclitoris when performing cunnilingus. It felt very good. After a fewmoments of this, she sat up again, and said, “Give me a minute to getcomfortable, so we can really enjoy ourselves.”Helen stood, and pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress. Underit, she was clad in a black lace bra and panties set. I watched as sheunhooked and removed her stockings, and took off her garter-belt. Thereal treat for me came when she stripped away her bra, and I c

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