Date: Sun, 25 Nov 2001 21:00:08 -0000 From: Beverly Taff Subject: Dog Day Afternoon 3 After a few months, I was ready to receive the implants. The donor puppies where born and the most genetically compatible bitch was selected. I was saddened to think that she was going to grow up with absolutely no sexual function but my needs were greater. The team explained that at least the puppy wouldn't die and she would make a useful guard dog. "Just think of her as a spayed bitch Beverly. Don't anthropomorphise the animal," encouraged the doctor. I nodded my head as the anaesthetic needle went in and that was the last thing I remembered. I woke to find that I had been out for a couple of weeks. The doctor explained that they had kept me thus sedated to avoid any pain and to keep a close eye on all my vital signs. I had to admit that I now felt little pain. There was a slight irritation in my groin and I was desperate to examine my new anatomy. The team helped me off my bed and set me up for my first conscious gynaecological examination. I was nervous but the doctor assured me that they had been examining me twice a day whilst I was unconscious to ensure the implants were OK. "Everything has taken successfully Beverly. As the puppy implants grow to maturity the hormones and stuff will take effect. In nine months you will be a fully functioning female." I examined my new arrangements in the big mirror and smiled nervously. "Will I get sensations like a woman doctor?" "Of course. Watch. I will touch your new clitoris and you can tell me what you feel." I watched his knowledgeable fingers reach into my groin and gently caress the residual penile tissue that had once been my fraenum. A surge of pleasure radiated from my groin and I found my pelvis thrusting upwards to meet his fingers. The doctor smiled appreciatively. "There, see? Everything as it should be. We concentrated all the nerve endings into that one little bud. It's infinitely more erotic and sensitive than your old penis ever was. You'll be free to leave here in a week or so, but keep in touch if there are any problems. Don't go having sex until the scars are healed properly." "How long will that be?" I asked. "Hard to tell. Give yourself a vaginal examination every night and when you feel you are ready, try masturbating carefully with a dildoe. One of the good things about this new procedure is that you don't have to retain an artificial 'keeper' in your new vaginal scabbard. That said however, you shouldn't go with a man until you are fully confident that you can masturbate yourself to orgasm and treat your vagina as any other woman might. Men can get quite rough in their passion you know and your new equipment is still a little small. I wouldn't like to see you getting hurt." "Yeah, tell me. I spent a childhood of that." I mumbled just audibly enough for him to understand. The doctor's expression softened as he realised what had happened to me during my childhood years in care. "I can't repair any mental scars Beverly. I can only wish you luck and happiness. You're a female now so I hope you find what you're looking for." With those words he helped me up and I returned to my bedroom. There, alone, I examined my exciting new anatomy intimately. It was fascinating. Somehow, even my new vagina was soft and moist, 'Just like a real one. It was a little tight though. I could just get one finger up inside me. The doctor had reassured me that it was still a puppy cunt. When it grew to full size I'd be able to handle a man provided I took some care. That was the reason they had chosen a larger breed; an Alsatian. 'This new experimental stuff was really the business,' I concluded. For the first time, my panties fitted perfectly. I had brought lots of new lingerie with me and I gloried in the smooth faultless lines of my new skimpy pants. Next I got dressed and admired the new outfit that I had purchased for exactly this occasion. I savoured the moment as I smoothed my small tits into my regular bra and wondered when the ovaries would mature and cause my tits to begin to grow. I couldn't wait. After the week had passed, I drove back across the desert with the doctor. He accompanied me on the internal flight because he was going on to Europe whilst I was returning to America. At the international airport we parted company. I booked into a hotel whilst he transferred immediately to the Paris flight. My flight to New York was the next morning so I had a whole night to see the town. That night I went clubbing. The tranny Internet guide was ingrained in my brain so I had no difficulty finding the well-hidden secret clubs. The small hours found me back in my hotel having learned a lot more than I had bargained for about some third world clubs and even weirder floorshows. It hadn't changed one bit from 'Casablanca' and Humphrey Bogart's time. They catered for just about every taste and deviation. The number of offers an unaccompanied girl could receive within an hour was quite breathtaking. Fortunately I had dressed conservatively and made scrupulously proper arrangements for transport. A girl alone in a foreign city couldn't be too careful! The next day I returned home. After a restful transatlantic flight, I transferred at New York then took an internal flight back to my home city. There I met my old boss and was glad to learn that my job was still open. He was fascinated to learn about the treatment and agreed to keep an eye on me. I was grateful for it meant I had proper medical supervision. After discussing the treatment, he explained the situation about the club. "Nobody keeps this place as clean as you do Beverly. All the girl's have been complaining and lots have said they'll only return when you're back. I realise how important a clean place is. Take it easy for now and when you feel up to it you can settle into it easily. There's a pay rise for you if you'll stay." My funds were exhausted but I was surprised to learn that other club owners had expressed an interest in my cleaning services. My boss looked a little sheepish as he offered me a higher wage but I was not prepared to be vindictive. He had given me a job when I was down in the gutter and paid me the going rate for a menial domestic. It was only after he realised that ordinary trannies and T.G's were as fussy as real girls about clean toilets that he realised how useful I was. In those early days though he had been too busy getting the club up and running. Money had been tight. He hadn't been able to pay me much. More importantly, he had provided me with a safe, separate private bedroom and I had to be thankful for that. I liked him. He was a genuinely sympathetic, compassionate man. Many doctors were of course. It was a vocational thing. His maltreatment at the hands of his colleagues coupled with all the ridicule attached by them to his transvestism proved to me. He was a fellow traveller who had also walked the walk as well. We were similar souls walking the same path. Now I was back with a new pay rise and some improvements to my domestic arrangements, I could get by quite well. I was actually beginning to save money from the extra tips. He began to consider me as a sort of partner and one night after the club had closed we chatted into the dawn. We agreed to make some big changes to the club and I offered to become a minor partner. The takings had risen rapidly when the regulars learned I was back and the boss was soon able to take a business plan to the bank. Together, we bought the partially derelict building next door and soon the club had many more facilities. We extended both basement areas and built a larger dance floor. The old dance floor became a club area with tables and a small stage for drag shows and stuff. Next we created a new and bigger changing area with proper private shower facilities. My Boss, Jack, was all too aware of the need for some professional people to maintain their anonymity. He'd been there as well! As the club expanded, we added a new small second restaurant cum bar on the ground floor, this was for the regular trannies who had come out and openly declared their lifestyle. The first floor restaurant was a more discreet place where the secret trannies could find escape. Access was now by membership only. Finally, and most importantly for me, we built two new larger self-contained apartments. The one at the back for me was built overlooking the new garden and the front apartment was built for Jack and his wife. It overlooked the street corner. Yes that's right, Jack, my boss, was a heterosexual, married transvestite. His wife was a tolerant woman and happy to see her husband finally content and successful. Now he could indulge his transvestism whenever he wanted, he was far less stressed. Consequently he was a much sweeter individual who treated his wife well and loyally. Occasionally she came down to the club and slept over but mostly Jack kept it as an emergency sleep over if he was too tired to drive home. His young children never came down to the club. They had no idea about their father's alternative lifestyle and Jack was a stickler for the law. By the time I had moved into my new apartment I noticed the changes in my body. My tits were growing at last but most alarmingly I noticed eight tiny buds growing up my tummy. They had started as eight itching little pimples but soon it was obvious what they were. I phoned the doctor in Africa for an explanation and got a shock. "They must be the bitch tits Beverly. We had to interconnect a lot of the puppy's reproductive system to your own system. I had hoped they wouldn't show under the skin, but obviously they have grown through. Fortunately they shouldn't grow into big human breasts so they'll stay below your waistline provided you wear fairly high-waisted knickers. It was easier to implant the puppy's whole system rather than just bits of it." I sat silent and worried as he elaborated further. "You've got the whole works inside you Bev, bitch womb, bitch vagina, bitch ovaries and bitch tits. "Does that mean I can have- have- puppies?" I squealed. There was a longish silence before he answered thoughtfully. "I- I wouldn't think so. I can't be sure though, it's quite possible. If those nipples have shown up, there might be other complications. Do you want to return and have it all reversed?" He finally offered. I paused nervously. The last thing I wanted was to return to a life of pills and expense. Besides, removing my new vagina was a definite none starter. I hadn't been with any men but I knew from the size of my dildoes and my bitter childhood experiences, that my bitch cunt could take a human dick. It would still be a little tight though. Don't forget that I had once been a boy in care and knew plenty about dick sizes. Four years of abuse in care made sure of that! I sat silent in thought clutching the phone as I summed up the situation. 'Most men liked a tight cunts, didn't they,' I told myself. I had recently been toying with the idea of trying out full sex with a man and was discreetly checking out the club for a less well- endowed man. Now, to have it all reversed; to lose my only chance of ever fulfilling my dream of complete womanhood seemed unimaginable. I knew I was fully capable of sex. The natural moistness and lubrication of my cunt was proof of that. I had something I knew that other transsexuals certainly lacked, a naturally lubricating cunt! They always had to find some artificial way of lubricating themselves before sex. I had the real thing! To lose my new natural girly functions now would be a disaster. No, I decided I wanted to keep my pussy even if it was a bitch's. I decided to wait and see so I replied down the phone. "Well, I think I'll wait a while doctor. I'll keep my vagina for now. Apart from the extra bitch tits, everything else is working fine. I just won't tell my lovers they've got their dick in a bitch's cunt." The doctor let out a soft involuntary chuckle before replying. "Oh you're never a bitch Beverly, you're too sweet for that. Everybody at the clinic liked you. If you want to reverse the procedure in the future, don't hesitate to contact me again. I'm always here and you were my first volunteer. I have to keep in touch with you anyway; the long-term feedback on your progress is essential. I will certainly change my procedures though from now on. Your results have been a huge boost to progress. Just one thought though, don't go sleeping with any dogs." "Wha!" I screeched, "D'you mean I might get pregnant or something?" "It's not impossible Beverly. As I said just now, if everything else is as you say, it might be the case. I would like you to come back in about a year just so that I can correct any problems in that quarter." I swallowed nervously. 'Shit!' I thought. 'Pregnant! To a bloody dog! No way!' After more discussion with advice and tips, I replaced the phone and turned to look at myself in the mirror. The eight nipples rose from my pubic patch in a sort of flattened diamond almost like an octagon. The top two peeped coyly above the low dipped waistband of my panties and I frowned as I realised I would have to wear slightly higher waisted panties. Fortunately, I could still wear thongs and such provocative stuff because my butt was now just perfect. Real girls would have killed for a butt like mine and my newly growing tits were every man's wet dream. I touched my bitch tits lightly and a slow tingle radiated to my human breasts and groin. 'Crickey! They even felt like human nipples, all bloody eight of them!' Recognising that I was turning into a veritable 'babe', I chose my most unprovocative overall and flat working slippers then made my way down to the club. This was my defensive uniform to avoid any unwanted attention from any casual visitors who dribbled through the public parts of the club during the normal daytime. The area was becoming a bit of a tourist thing what with the 'gay village' and stuff. The nighttime regulars treated me with more respect. The club had become a sort of 'drop-in' station where many sexually dysfunctional individuals turned up looking for support and succour to their solutions. The tranny society ran an ad-hoc chat clinic during the afternoons and Jack found that many callers stopped by to have a sympathetic talk and a bite to eat. The lunch-time crowd were good spenders and several high rollers would travel across town to indulge their peccadilloes during a their lunch break. The private part of the club had a discreet rear entrance were those who were not ready to 'come out' could slip down the side alley without being noticed. We were gathering a good reputation and the cafe served plain wholesome food for reasonable prices. The private restaurant was on the second floor so casual passers by could not see who was dining inside. There, the secret cross dressers felt safe from prying eyes during their lunch breaks. Mostly they snatched a bite to eat and simply removed their jackets and waistcoats to reveal the shadowy outline of a delicate lace bra under their shirts. A sort of private declaration of their situation during their boring working days. 'What-ever it takes', was my motto. 'Live and let live. Their money was good, it kept the club profitable and that paid my wages.' During the day I kept a low profile and busied myself with cleaning and general duties. During the day, my outfit comprised loose brace and bib overalls with an over-jacket and my hair tied up under a work cap. This removed all possible provocation and nobody took any notice of 'the cleaner'. Jack liked it. I provided no competition to Jack as he cross- dressed to the nines and ran the club very efficiently. The only time he changed to 'male- drab' was when he went home. As business partners, we felt we had finally got there. Property taxes in the poorer part of town were low and this made profits easier. The second cafe at street level began to draw in a more conventional crowd during the day and the neighbourhood was looking up. The club became progressively more successful until it attracted the attention of the mob and one day the boss received the usual visit with protection demands. The problem was that the club's openness and legitimacy was the main reason for its success. Drag the club into the quagmire of organised crime and the decent clientele would soon go elsewhere. Jack notified the police of course, and there were several sympathetic ears. Some very senior members were secret cross-dressers who were regular members at the private part of the club. Jack's medical advice had helped many of them. The city police force was huge and about forty members regularly used the club. Additionally, the gay cops naturally gravitated to this particular precinct and were becoming very protective of it. With the success of our club, other clubs had sprung up around our club. The area was slowly turning into a 'gay village' with our club at the epicentre. The police promised the boss support but obviously they couldn't be around at all times. They suggested he buy a large watchdog. By now the Jack and I were considering expanding again. The city planners were happy with the first club and agreed to let him develop a derelict site on the opposite corner block. It was the old railway freight office and warehouse and it actually had some historical architectural merit. With a sympathetic gay architect as a partner, we three started developing the site. Soon a trendy chintzy apartment block had added to the ambience of the neighbourhood. The mob were getting more interested and it became something of a race to get the neighbourhood decent before the mob took over. Fortunately, the police and city council were on our side but it was not an easy ride. One Sunday as I lay taking it easy in my apartment, there was a commotion outside. Nervously I listened at the door to hear Jack arguing on the stairs. I was surprised to hear his voice. He was not normally around on Sunday afternoons because the club was closed and he spent all day with his kids. Whoever was threatening Jack had obviously not bothered to check that I was living in the other apartment. I quietly phoned the police station and within seconds a patrol car wailed up the street. There was a scuffle and then a single shot before footsteps thundered up the stairs followed by a lot of shouting. Through the keyhole I watched several dark blue uniforms arresting the assailant whilst Jack lay crumpled against the wall. After the commotion was over and the gunman disarmed, I came out and reported what I had seen. Fortunately Jack was not killed but it was a dire warning. The following week a huge Alsatian dog called Billy appeared in the club. Jack had taken the police advice and the dog had the run of the club when it was closed. Billy also backed up the bouncers during the evenings and he soon became a huge favourite with the regular members. He was a massive specimen and superbly trained. Normally he gave all the appearances of being a big stupid friendly mutt, but when ordered, he turned into something totally different. At first sight, I fell in love with him. His big intelligent eyes and alert ears would have broken any dog lover's heart. My feelings changed slightly though. After seeing the darker side of his nature during some unpleasantness at the door one night, I became a little afraid of him. It obviously wasn't wise to cross Billy; he could bite if called upon. However, because we both permanently lived in the club I inevitably took responsibility for feeding him. Within a few weeks, Billy was 'my dog' and I gave him a huge comfortable basket in my spare room.