Date: Thu, 07 Dec 2000 14:15:16 -0500
From: Aleisha James
Subject: "A Study in Silk"

A Study in Silk

by Aleisha James

Greg and I were in the bathroom, crowded around the small vanity,
each trying to get as much of the mirror as we could without
actually poking elbows at the other.

Greg had started ahead of me and was already doing his eyes, while
I was still making sure that my foundation looked perfectly
smooth.

Suddenly he stood up, and lowering his eyeliner pencil he began to
shake, while I could see tears beginning to well from his eyes.

"What's wrong, Greg?" I asked, my concern showing in my voice.

"Mike, take a look at us. don't you think there's something going
on here?"

I looked at our reflections, but for the life of me I couldn't
figure out what he meant.

Gazing back at us were two very slender young men, with smooth,
hairless faces and arms. Greg was wearing the ivory silk slip he
had bought last week, and its spaghetti straps looked very pretty
against his satiny skin. He hadn't put on a bra, but then we
didn't really need bras yet. His breasts, and mine were still
small, and while they were growing rapidly, they were so firm that
they stood up proudly without support. His hair needed styling,
but so did mine. We would have to wait a few weeks to get enough
length to be able to do something creative, but even now we knew
how to make ourselves look good.

His eyebrows were plucked into high, thin arches. It was his idea
that we do that, but then he had always taken the lead in our new
approach to our appearances. It had all seemed perfectly natural
and it still did.

He had not yet applied his lipstick, but his lips still looked
full and inviting. What could the problem be?

My slip was identical to his except that it was in pale peach with
black lace trim. I had been late into the bathroom because I had
wanted to try my new garterbelt and nylons, and I felt wonderfully
sexy as I looked at my reflection. I had a long way to go, but I
sure looked better than I had three months ago when we first
decided to take better care of ourselves. Our diet had worked
wonders for both of us and even the vitamin supplements that Dr.
Franklin had supplied as part of the study seemed not to have
interfered. I could see the swell of my breasts under the lace of
my bodice, and I could feel my nipples harden as I stood up.

What on earth was bothering Greg? He was at least as pretty as me,
so he couldn't be getting jealous?

"Mike, don't you get it? We're boys!"

Well of course we were. Greg could certainly be an airhead at
times, I thought.

"I know that, Greg. What else could we be?"

"But we look like girls, Mike. What's happened to us? It must be
the study!"

"Nonsense, dear" I assured him.

"Dr. Franklin's study is all about relaxation techniques, about
enhancing our abilities by ensuring that we sleep well and get the
appropriate reinforcement through the tapes we play during our
sleep. Besides.." I confided.. "Dr. Franklin as good as told me
that we were getting the placebo tapes.. the ones that have no
effect at all"

"He can't know that" Greg said.

"It's supposed to be a double-blind test so that even the
experimenters can't tell who gets which tapes"

"You don't really believe that, do you" I chuckled. "I think Dr.
Franklin knows exactly what's going on, and I think he likes me a
lot, which is why he's let loose these hints. He doesn't want us
to worry."

He looked at me, as if I had just said something really silly..

"Of course he likes you! Don't you get it? He's got to be gay.
This is all part of his so-called study! Turning normal straight
guys into girls! And we're his prime subjects!"

He wasn't making any sense at all. Dr. Franklin was the one man I
knew I could trust. He would never do anything dishonest and he
certainly wouldn't be doing unethical experiments. There are some
things in this life that you know deep down, with absolute
certainty. This was one of them. Greg had met Dr. Franklin and had
spent just as much time with him in private review sessions. What
could account for this sudden paranoia?

Then a thought struck me.

"Greg" I said, taking a firm stance with my legs slightly apart
and my arms crossed in front of me.

"You've skipped a tape, haven't you? You've been cheating on the
study, haven't you?"

His blush and lowered head was all the answer I needed.

"You know that it's essential that you don't skip any tape. No
wonder you're so whacked out! Spouting nonsense like that. You
miss a tape and you lose all grip on reality. Now let's get you
lying down in bed with your earphones on"

He came with me, but he was obviously unhappy. He muttered
something about me not making sense. If the tapes were really
placebos, then listening or not listening couldn't have any
effect. But I wasn't paying attention. I had been worried that my
best friend was losing his mind, falling into paranoid delusions.
What could he be thinking? We wore these clothes because it made
sense to do so. Only old-fashioned pseudo-macho chauvinists would
disagree. These clothes were more comfortable, that's all. The
fact that they looked feminine was incidental. It wasn't the point
at all. And as for the way we looked, it had been his idea to stop
working out, and to lose a lot of weight. Muscles led to heart
attacks, he had said. A healthy boy is a slim boy. It was he who
had come home from a meeting with Dr. Franklin with the news that
Dr. Franklin would like us to take the vitamins every day. So what
if it was soon after that that our nipples became sensitive, and
then our breasts began to enlarge. There was no connection at all:
it was silly to even think about it. I wasn't a girl! Even if it
seemed to me recently that girls had it far easier than boys.

I was relieved when I saw his eyes close and his chest begin a
quiet regular rhythm as he heard the familiar soothing
introduction to the tape. I couldn't figure how he had missed one:
I listened to mine faithfully, just as we had promised Dr.
Franklin when we had signed up for the study.

I returned to the bathroom and finished my makeup. I was getting
quite good at this, I thought.

After a final inspection, I returned to my room and selected a
cute black minidress, which I had bought at Dalmy's on our
'special' account last week. It seemed almost a shame that we only
wore dresses at home, but while wearing lingerie, makeup and
pretty dresses was so clearly the sensible thing to do, something
told me that going out like this was not appropriate. At least,
not yet.

I curled up with a romance novel. To think that I spent all those
years sneering at girls who read these books! They were full of
wonderful characters, facing such obstacles to true love. I read
little else these days, and my marks were beginning to suffer, but
I felt that these books gave me such insight into the human heart
that it was well worthwhile. I had to be careful not to cry, and
ruin my makeup. Sometimes, when I had taken the time to look nice,
I would stop reading before the end just to avoid the tears of
happiness that would overwhelm me when the heroine found true
love.

I was well into the book when Greg appeared. I had not heard him
get up, but it was easy to see that all was well. He had brushed
his hair into a pageboy look which went well with his delicate
features. He had really gone all out, as evidenced by his crimson
nails, dangling diamond earrings, and the diamond pendant which
lay between the mounds of his swelling breasts. He was wearing a
green cocktail dress, with a full skirt that hung to just above
his silk-clad knees. He saw me look up, and paused to twirl on one
foot. He had more confidence than I in such high heels, I thought
with a flash of envy, as I saw that he was wearing his green and
black open-toed evening shoes with four inch heels.

The back of the dress was daringly low, and I knew that he still
wasn't wearing a bra. We had talked about his buying a strapless
bra to go with the dress, but he had insisted that he would wait
until he felt that his breasts had developed some more. Well, I
thought, it won't be long now, what with that cleavage he's
showing.

Greg minced down the stairs and sat himself down on the edge of
the couch where I had been curled up with my book. He smoothed his
skirt beneath him with unconscious femininity, and I felt
relieved. He was back to normal, just my old friend Greg.

He reached out and touched my shoulder lightly.

"Oh Mike" he said. "I'm so embarrassed, I don't know what to say"

"Don't worry, honey" I said. "Just make sure you don't miss any
more tapes, okay?"

He nodded. "That's for sure. Boy, was I getting weirded out!"

Thankful that all had ended well, we spent the rest of the night
talking about our plans. Greg wanted me to get my ears pierced as
he had, and I was pretending to be reluctant. I even teased him a
little: "Now you want me to pretend to be a girl?"

He was gracious enough to blush again, but he insisted that I
would feel better about myself if I had it done. I finally
relented and told him that I had already scheduled an appointment
for the next morning.

"I thought I'd do it before checking in with Dr. Franklin" I said.

He giggled, and I had to smile myself.

I was rested and self-confident the next morning, as always after
listening to tape. I replaced last night's with he one marked for
tonight, and got dressed.

It occurred to me as I was selecting my underwear that it really
didn't make sense to wear rough clothing next to my skin. So I
gratefully chose a pair of black silk panties and a matching
teddy. I had progressed to where tucking my member between my legs
was automatic. I chose a black sweater, which would hide my
lingerie from public view. I had dithered over what to wear on my
feet. I decided to compromise. I had so liked my garterbelt that I
put it back on along with some gossamer thin smoky nylons. Then I
pulled some socks over my feet, so that only I would know that I
was 'properly' dressed underneath.

Blue jeans and running shows completed my ensemble. I carefully
brushed my hair into a uni-sex style and grabbing my purse, I
headed for the door.

The beauty parlor where I had booked my ear-piercing was almost
empty this early in the morning and it took only a few minutes for
the procedure to be complete. I left the shop with two metal studs
in my ears and strict instructions to keep them clean for the next
several days. They stung just a bit, but it was worth it to me.

My meeting with Dr. Franklin was for 9:45 and I was a few minutes
early. I waited on one of those hard, plastic chairs that can be
found outside the offices of so many university professors. The
door to Dr. Franklin's office was closed and I contented myself
with reading another of my romance novels which I had brought to
read on the bus.

Eventually the door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered young man
emerged. He turned to face into the room and called out.

"Thanks for your help, sir"

He seemed very polite, but awfully young. I doubted that many
girls my age would prefer someone like him to an older, more
sophisticated gentleman like Dr. Franklin.

I giggled inwardly. What if Greg had been with me. I think that if
Greg were a girl, he'd like exactly that type of young man!

I rose to my feet and walked to the now-open door. I knocked
lightly as I looked inside.

Dr. Franklin was behind his desk, as always. His lean, ascetic
looking face was turned towards the door in response to my knock
and I was pleased to see a warm smile slowly break out on his face
as he rose to greet me.

He was much taller than I, perhaps a half-foot more than my 5' 7
`. He kept himself in good condition, and his trim waist and
athletic build made him very attractive. His brown eyes seemed to
widen as he looked me over from head to toe before extending his
hand for me to shake. His grasp was warm and dry, with just enough
pressure to reassure me that he liked me and welcomed me into his
room.

He waited for me to seat myself before resuming his position
behind his paper-cluttered desk.

"It's good to see you, Mike" he said. His baritone voice was like
music to  my ears. I could listen to him all day!

"Thank you, sir" I breathed. For some reason I felt as if he might
know and approve of my dressing today. Why I felt that escaped me.
Not that there was anything wrong or even strange about the way I
was dressed. But the thought that he might know how prettily I was
dressed beneath my conventional outerwear made me feel all tingly
inside.

"Why, you've had your ears pierced"  he said in a tone of mild
surprise. Nervously fingering the stud in my left ear, I agreed
that, yes, I had. Did he like it?

"It's a great idea"` he said. "But I bet Greg had his done first!"

It always amazed me that he could tell what was going on in our
lives. It was as if he were a mind reader. But then, I reflected,
he had probably noticed Greg's earrings when he had last met with
him.

He pulled out a file from the middle of one of the piles on his
desk. It was my file.

We spent the next thirty minutes with me going over a detailed
questionnaire. I sat motionless, with my eyes closed and he read
the questions in that wonderful voice of his. This was a routine
that I had grown accustomed to, and by now my answers flowed
almost without conscious attention.

"Time's up" he said, snapping his fingers. I sat up with a start.
I had gone even further into trance than I normally did. I could
remember nothing other than the usual warm glow, which intensified
as he looked at me.

He sat still for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. He nodded to
himself, as if he had come to some important decision.

He stood up and told me to come with him. I followed without
hesitation. This was a man I trusted implicitly.

We walked in silence out of the building into the bright fall
sunlight. His car was parked in the faculty lot immediately behind
the building and I obediently got into the passenger side. It was
an new Acura, one of the expensive ones. I admired the car, but he
was still lost in thought so I fell silent and waited for whatever
was to unfold.

After about twenty minutes we pulled into a shaded driveway and
came to a stop in front of a large older home.

He got out and I followed him into the house, which he unlocked
with two keys. He immediately entered a code in a complex-looking
security panel. He hardly looked at me as he gestured towards the
stairs. He led the way up the gleaming wooden staircase and down a
hallway to a locked door. Once again he unlocked the door and then
he motioned me in.

It was a huge bedroom, decorated in a fantasy of femininity. It
might have come straight out of one o my more far-fetched romance
novels.

The walls were covered with what looked like patterned white silk.
A large window dominated the far wall, with patterned sheers and
heavy cream- colored silk drapes gathered with large ribbons of
matching fabric.

The plush carpet looked brand new, a rich white which seemed to
cry out for someone to walk bare-foot. A four-poster canopy bed
occupied about a quarter of the room, with white silk trimmed with
cream lace.

On the same wall as the door sat a long, low vanity with a make-up
mirror. The vanity was covered with tiny jars of cosmetics and
perfume sprays. Two stands held lustrous wigs, one blonde and the
other brunette. Tiny lights surrounded the mirror, and an
upholstered but armless chair sat before it.

Closets lined the wall to my left. The mirrored doors reflected
the contents of the room, making it seem twice it's actual size.
Two large dressers stood, one on either side of the window. I
noticed that a door on the opposite wall led to what I could tell
was an en-suite.

"What do you think?"

I realized that Dr. Franklin had broken his silence and was
awaiting my response.

"It's beautiful" I said. "So very pretty"`

He smiled.

"Go over to the closets and look inside"` he said.

Not having any idea what was going on, but feeling safe with Dr.,
Franklin, I complied. The closets were full of clothing. And what
clothing!

One closet held nothing but evening gowns and party dresses.
Slinky black silk hung next to dramatic scarlet, and a tiny slip
dress, which would leave nothing to the imagination hung next to a
floor-length, off-the-shoulder number that seemed like something
out of a movie.

The next closet held more sensible wear: suits with knee-length
skirts, blouses, dresses one might wear around the house. Then
came a closet full of nothing but shoes!

"Look in the bureaus" I heard.

The top drawer was full of panties in a multitude of colors and
styles. The next held a small selection of bras. The third was
full f carefully folded teddies, camisoles, slips and half-slips.

I turned around before looking any further.

He had moved to closets and had pulled out the slip-dress I had
noticed. It was a beautiful shimmering black, very simple, very
elegant, and I felt sure, very sexy.

"Michael" he said, walking towards me with the dress held across
his outstretched arms.

"Please try this on for me."`

How did he know? I thought. I had wanted to wear that dress as
soon as I saw it.

"You are perfectly safe with me, my dear" he said.

"I know I am" I replied, taking the dress from his arms.

"You know how to look pretty"` he said.

"You'll find everything you need to look your best for me"

He left and I stood alone in that fantasy-bedroom.

How could he know? I kept asking myself that question but while it
occupied my thoughts, it didn't stop me from undressing.

I was glad I had my own lingerie on under my rough clothes.
Whoever lived here had wonderful taste, and I felt diffident about
using her precious things.

The dress felt marvelous as I stepped carefully into it and pulled
it up my body.

I was glad that I had lost five more pounds that week, else it
might not have fit over my hips, As it was, it clung closely to my
body.

He said that I was to look pretty, so I was extra careful with my
makeup. Fortunately, I recognized most of the brands and the
actual shades that the owner of this room preferred. We had almost
identical tastes, although the selection here was far greater than
the meager assortment that Greg and I had put together.

That thought gave me pause. Too bad for Greg.. he would love this
room!

I noticed a jewelry box sitting with its lid ajar. Well, I might
as well look, I said to myself.

The box played a pretty tune when I lifted the lid. A music box!

Laying on top was an envelope, with my name on it. Curious to see
what was within, I opened the envelope and out came a piece of
stiff white paper and several pieces of jewelry.

The note asked me to wear the jewelry from the envelope, with the
exception of the anklet. The thin gold anklet had a disk if beaten
gold attached to it. It was inscribed, and I read the inscription.

'Aleisha - Property of Jack Franklin'  it said.

The name resonated in my head. I had to sit down. I held the
anklet across my fingers, wondering if I was supposed to wear it.
I couldn't... I wasn't Aleisha.. (the word .. yet.. echoed dimly
in my mind). I stood up, and, taking a deep breath put the anklet
down. Even Dr. Franklin, it seemed, did not feel the time was
right.

At last I was finished. I selected a pair of black open-toed pumps
from the closet, grateful that the owner and I wore the same size.
That was fortunate, since I knew that my feet were probably a
couple of sizes bigger than most girls of my height.

I walked to the door and looked out into the hallway. There was no
sign of him, but I could hear soft music coming from downstairs,
and there had been no music playing when we had arrived.

So I went downstairs towards the sound of the music. I didn't
recognize it, but it was soft jazz, with a female vocalist.

The music led me to a large living room. It was furnished in a
masculine sort of way, with dark leather furniture and a glass-
topped coffee table. Abstract paintings hung on the walls, and
sculptures stood in corners and on the bureau lining one wall.

Dr. Franklin was sitting in a comfortable-looking armchair, but
rose to his feet as I entered. Once again I got the impression
that his eyes widened as he saw me, and his gaze traveled from my
head to my toes and back again. I had the strangest feeling that
he was mentally undressing me. That should have bothered me, but
for some reason it didn't.

"You look lovely, my dear" he said.

He walked towards me and stopped about three feet away.

"Turn around, so that I can see all of you" he spoke.

I obeyed, and as my back was turned toward him, I felt a hand on
my shoulder.

"That's far enough... let me savor this for a moment"

I was acutely aware of his presence behind me. There was a warmth
on my bare skin and I could detect his scent, a strong, masculine
aroma which was oddly pleasing to me.

I felt his hands caress my sides, running lightly over my dress.
Then they stroked my buttocks and I found myself making an
involuntary gasp for air.

What was going on? For the second time in two days I felt
confusion. First it had been Greg acting so strangely, with his
suggestion that Dr. Franklin was gay and had been manipulating us
to turn us into girls. Now Dr. Franklin was acting as if he were
sexually attracted to me!

I couldn't help myself. I turned to face him.

"Sir, please tell me what's going on? Why are you doing this?"`

The smile left his face immediately, and he averted his gaze as he
stepped back.

"It's a little too soon, I guess" he said, as if to himself.

Looking back at me he said "You've been taking such good care of
yourself that I just wanted you to know that I appreciate the
effort you are making"

"Thank you" I said, although I had an uncomfortable feeling that
something very important had almost happened. I wasn't sure what
it was, but there had been something about the way he had looked
at me that prompted my next remark.

"But I have to tell you, sir, that I was getting worried there.
You were looking at me as if I were a girl, and you know that I'm
not"

"Oh yes, Michael" he said. "Believe me, I know exactly what you
are"

He added, before I could respond to that cryptic remark, that he
would take me home, but I was to wait there for a moment.

He left, only to return within a minute with a black cashmere
coat, with a fur collar.

"It's getting chilly out" he said.

He helped me into the coat.

"What about my clothes?" I asked.

"You don't need those tonight, and I'll have them delivered to
your home tomorrow"

"And what about this?" I said, holding out the anklet which I had
had in my hand.

"We'll talk about that some other time" he said, taking it from
me.

We walked out to his car. I was conscious of the click of my heels
on the hardwood floors and the concrete paving. He held open the
passenger door and I sat sideways and then swiveled my legs in. He
closed the door and walked around to climb in the driver's side.

We were silent on the way home. He repeated his courtesy once
there, holding open my door and taking my hand to assist me out.

We walked to the front steps and he stopped as I climbed the first
one.

"Please don't drop out of the study" he said. "What happened
tonight has nothing to do with that"`

I was still confused. What had happened tonight? I smiled down at
him. With my heels and the advantage of the step I was actually
taller than him.

"Don't worry, sir" I said. "I'll still be a good subject for your
study"

His eyes searched my face for a moment and than he nodded and
turned away.

I watched as he got into his car and pulled away from the curb. My
emotions were in turmoil despite my outward calm. I had come close
to crossing some Rubicon tonight, but what and why I could not
say.

I had forgotten my purse at Dr. Franklin's house so I had to ring
the bell. Fortunately Greg was home, but then again, we never went
out anymore.

Greg was dressed for bed, wearing his pink housecoat over his
favorite babydoll nightgown. He wasn't wearing any makeup. I was
startled, nonetheless, at how much like a girl he looked. I had
never noticed that before, even when he had told me to look into
the mirror when we were doing our faces.

He stepped back, with an expression of awe on his face.

"Mike, you look like a million dollars"

"Where did you get that coat?"

I came in and turned on my toes, holding the front of my coat
open, so that Greg could appreciate my finery.

"Take the coat off, honey!" he said.

"I just have to see that dress!"

I hung the coat in the hall closet and then walked carefully into
the living room, aware with every step of Greg's eyes upon me. I
even put a little extra swivel into my walk.

"It's delicious" he gushed. "Where did you get it?"

I told him all about my evening, including Dr. Franklin's strange
behaviour.

"Well, I can't say that I blame him for looking at you like you
say" he said.  "If you were a girl, you'd have to fight the boys
off with a machine gun or something"

"You don't look too bad yourself" I laughed. "We'd both need
machine guns!"

"Thank you, dear" he said, with a quick curtsey . He came over to
me and, standing close, looked me in the eyes. Then he surprised
me by leaning forward and giving me a quick kiss on the lips.

I froze.

He looked at me with concern.

"Honey, I've wanted to do that ever since I got up this morning,
and you look so wonderful I just couldn't help myself"

"It's okay" I stammered.

"Really?" he asked.

I nodded and he said "Let's prove it"

This time he took off his housecoat. He was wearing an ivory-
colored babydoll nightgown, with delicate lace trim around the
bodice and the hem. His nipples pressed against the silken fabric
as he stepped up close to me. I could smell perfume on his skin as
he put his arms around my neck and leaned in to place a long,
lingering kiss on my lips.

My body went rigid as his lips made contact with mine, but the
feel of his body against me, the feel of his silken nightgown ,and
the smell of his perfume came close to melting my resistance.

We kissed for what seemed like hours, our mouths hungrily tasting
each other, our tongues pressing against lips which opened to
greedily engulf each other. I could feel warmth in my groin as
blood rushed to engorge my member and I knew that Greg felt the
same response, as his stiff prick pressed against me.

We finally broke, breathing hard.

We each stepped back.

I had lost control of my senses as we had grappled, and it was
only on seeing him at a distance, however short, that I realized
what we had just done, and perhaps worse, what we had been about
to do.

"Greg" I pleaded "We have to stop now!"

"No.. we can't.. I need you.." His eyes locked with mine, desire
mixed with puzzlement lending an urgency to his voice.

"We're not girls. That's why I came home. Had I wanted to be a
girl tonight, I could have stayed with Dr. Franklin."

He stood there, his hands stroking the silk of his nightgown as if
he needed the affirmation that he was wearing a nightgown, as if
by feeling the fabric he could assure himself of his femininity.

"Oh God, Mike" he said, as his face crumpled and he turned away.

"What's been happening to us?"

I reached out to him, without any sexual overtones. We hugged, and
I could feel against my face the tears which he was crying. To my
surprise, I found myself crying as well, and we clung together as
two lonely survivors seeking shelter from a storm.

Finally, he sniffed and pulled away.

"I think I need some more tape. I feel so much better after a
session" he said.

"Somehow I feel that it's the only way to make sense of this, to
give me my sense of who I am"

Our gazes met.

"I think you were right the other night when you said that the
tapes are being used to condition us" I said.

"Of course I was"  he replied.

"But what choice do we have? There's no turning back, and the tape
will make it easier. Maybe tomorrow we'll be happy with what's
happening to us"

I nodded my reluctant assent. We were doomed, but the thought of
trying to change back, of giving up what felt so right about the
way we looked and dressed was inconceivable.

I was asleep within minutes of inserting the earphones and
activating the tape.

The next morning found me feeling full of light and joy. Greg was
already up and I noticed with approval that she was looking
especially feminine this morning.

She greeted me with a kiss.

"Hello, sleepyhead" she said.

"Hi, darling" I said as I hugged her and gave her a kiss on the
lips.

She was wearing a negligee I had not seen before. I admired it and
she told me that she'd got it at Dalmy's. Well, I knew that! Both
of us had got all of our new clothes from that store, ever since
that day when we had simultaneously stopped and admired their
window display. That must have been about a week after we enrolled
in the study, although surely that was just a coincidence.

Anyway, we had gone inside and wandered through store, marveling
at the selection that girls got to wear. I think it was Greg who
first suggested that in this day and age there was no reason why
boys like us shouldn't wear comfortable clothing as well. I had
expressed skepticism. After all, there was a name for boys who
dressed as girls: drag queens.

He had laughed out loud.

"Nonsense, Mike. I'm not talking about going queer. But just take
a look at this, and have a feel"

He was indicating a rack of teddies, and I did reach out to feel
the cool smoothness of the silk.

"Imagine that under your shirt, against your skin. Wouldn't that
feel nice?"

I had to agree, and just then a well-dressed middle-aged sales
assistant came up to us and asked, as if it were the most normal
thing in the world, whether we would like to buy ourselves
something pretty.

We were both taken aback, and our confusion showed. She told us to
come with her and she led us to the back of the store where she
showed us into a small office.

"Boys, I saw how you were looking at that lingerie. You weren't
looking for your girlfriends, so there's no point in trying to
deny your interest"

We stammered our denials despite her comments.

"Don't worry. You are not alone. We have plenty of boys, normal
hetereosexual boys just like you who recognize the silliness of
not being able to wear the wonderful clothes designed for women.
We have so many that we want to develop a market. The best way for
us to do that is to make clothing affordable for you young men"

We looked at each other. Greg asked the question that was on both
of our minds.

"What do you mean: affordable ?"

"You boys have your old ward-robes and good lingerie, not to
mention pretty dresses, accessories, cosmetics and so on, cost a
lot of money. Few students can afford a proper wardrobe, and I
doubt that your parents would help with these particular expenses"

We laughed, breaking the mounting tension.

Once we were at ease, she explained that Dalmy's offered special
accounts for boys like us who wanted to experiment. The store was
aided in this by a generous donation from an unspecified source.
The point was that we could buy almost anything we wanted to and
there would be no cost at all.

We could hardly believe our ears, but soon enough she had us out
looking at the teddies. I picked out the black number that I had
worn last night, while Greg choose an identical design in what was
to become his favorite color: ivory.

We had gone back every week since; sometimes several times in a
week, and now boasted impressive selections of lingerie, although
we were still working on dresses, blouses and skirts.

Anyway, Greg must have been to the store without me. What a little
wench, I thought to myself.

She sat me down at the breakfast table and served me my usual
breakfast of a small bowl of Special K cereal and a dollop of low-
fat yogurt. She brought over her food and sat beside me.

We played with our food, while I kept stealing glances at her. She
was doing the same, and when our eyes met we pealed with laughter.
I just couldn't get over how pretty she was!

I was about to suggest that we adjourn to her bedroom to pick up
where I had stopped us last night when the telephone rang.

Greg answered. She said "Hello" and then "Yes, she's here"

She passed the phone to me. I already knew whose voice I would
hear.

"How are you this morning?"

The deep baritone of Dr. Franklin's greeting warmed my stomach. I
could feel heat rising to my cheeks as Greg made kissing faces at
me.

"I'm fine, thank you sir" I answered.

"Call me Jack" he said. "I think we know each other well enough
for that, don't you?"

This was incredible. I had been sitting with Greg, feeling a
strong physical desire for her. Now with his honeyed voice in my
ear I could think only of Dr. Franklin... or Jack.

"All right, Jack" I breathed into the mouthpiece.

"We almost made a breakthrough last night, you and I" he said.

"Yes, I know"

"I gather, from Greg saying that 'she's' here, that the two of you
have made that breakthrough on your own"

"I think so, Jack" I said.

"I knew it was close. I only wish I had been there to witness your
self-discovery"

I could hear his laughter over the phone.

"We didn't do anything, Jack. It's just that this morning we know
what we are. Do you still want to see me?"

"Of course I do... and I will. You need a man to show you the full
meaning of sexual pleasure. A girl like Greg can be a lot of fun,
and I'm sure that you love her. But that is not the same as
surrendering to a man; a man who will own you, possess you and
control you. That will happen, and you know that you need it. Tell
me now"

I couldn't stop the words from leaving my lips.

"When, Jack... Please, I need you so... Please forgive me...I could have
been yours last night. Please make me your own!"

I could see Greg out of the corner of my eye. She had sat down, a
serious look on her face. She reached out and laid one hand on my
forearm, as if to assure me of her support.

"I will see you tonight" he said. "You'll become mine tonight"

He hung up and I just sat there. His last words echoed in my head,
and I stared into nothing.

I reverted to normal with a start.

Greg was on her knees in front of me, licking her lips as she
lifted the hem of my peignoir.

"You may belong to Dr. Franklin" she said. "But I'm not letting
this go to waste!"

She closed her lips over my rampant penis and proceeded to suck me
off, gently and with total concentration. I arched my back as her
soft, warm mouth enveloped me. My hands involuntarily took hold of
her head and encouraged her bobbing motions. I felt my hips begin
to move in response to her tender ministrations. Excitement
mounted and I flashed on me performing this same adoring service
on Jack Franklin.

That thought pushed me over the top, and I came very quickly. Greg
even seemed a little disappointed as she licked me clean.

"I think Dr. Franklin will want you to exercise more control, to
take longer!" she said as she rose from her kneeling position.

I bowed my head, not wanting to make eye contact. I was already
feeling shame and embarrassment. What were we doing? But no sooner
had I asked myself that question than I mentally shook it off.
Today was a wonderful day! Greg and I had no worries anymore, our
destinies were already planned and we could relax in the certainty
that Jack Franklin knew what was best for us.

I realized that I had lost my appetite for what remained of
breakfast, and I had a lot to do if I was going to be ready for
Jack that evening. I had to have something to wear!

I had adored that slip-dress and it seemed that Jack had liked me
in it as well. So I decided that I would carefully iron it and
wear it over some new lingerie. And that meant a trip to Dalmy's!

I asked Greg to go with me to help pick out something special.

"Of course I'll go" she said. "It's not every day that my best
friend is bedded by the man of her dreams, and you'll want to look
your prettiest and your sexiest for him"

I looked at her.

"You feel it too" I said. "We crossed over.. we're girls now?"

"It's like we said last night" she said. "The 'study'.. it can't
be a coincidence that we began to think that it was okay to lose
so much weight, to shave all of our body hair and to start wearing
girl's clothing so soon after we started to listen to the tapes."

She placed her hands beneath the small but firm globes of her
breasts. I had never paid much attention to her figure before, or
to mine for that matter. Now, admiring her breasts, I realized
that my own were even more developed.

"And we've been growing breasts ever since we got those vitamin
supplements along with the tapes"

"But Dr. Franklin told us that this was just a study in relaxation
therapy!" I sobbed, a part of me still wanting to deny the truth.

"What do you think he'd do? Tell us that he was going to turn us
into pretty little queens? Tell you that he wanted you as his own
personal love slave? No, he has to dress it up as a legitimate
study. I bet that most of the students are enrolled in a real
relaxation study and that only 'special' kids were chosen for his
'special' subset."

"But why, Greg? Why would he do this? Even if he wanted to, even
if he could, why would he choose more than one of us? You don't
love him, but I do! And that must be because he wants me to. Why
not you? Why me?"

I'd said it. I loved him, not matter how upset I was. No matter
how disgusted I was by the thought of being a fairy, of sucking
cocks, of being his possession, the only thing that mattered was
that I loved him.

Greg stroked my back, trying to soothe me.

"I don't know, honey" she said.

"Maybe he needed backups in case you didn't fall for him. Maybe he
has plans for me... I've had some recurring dreams recently, there's
someone in them, but I can never remember any details. Maybe
that's who I destined to belong to, just as you're destined to
belong to Jack Franklin."

I stood up, feeling empty, but somehow better. Greg was still my
best friend even if she had become a queen, but I could tell by
looking at her that she was never going to live as a boy again. I
looked in the mirror, and my mind flashed back to the time when
she had begun to cry, concerned that we were being changed against
our will, and without our knowledge. Then I had been the one to
reassure her, but out of ignorance rather than knowledge. Her
concerns, her suspicions had been only too accurate. And I had
dissuaded her.

Perhaps, had I seen what was reflected in that mirror on that day,
I could have resisted. I could have destroyed the tapes and sought
help. But I had been so well conditioned that I had seen two boys
in the mirror: not two queens. Now, looking into the same mirror,
I could see how little masculinity was left.

We were the same height, and almost the same build. My breasts
were perhaps slightly more developed than hers, while her hair
seemed a little fuller than mine. Facially we looked like sisters,
with similar noses, high cheek-bones and small ears. Looking
harder than I had ever done before, I could see why Dr. Franklin
had chosen us, if indeed that was the explanation. With our bone
structure, we had little difficulty passing for attractive young
women, even without makeup.

And our bodies were very feminine by now. Perhaps, I thought, too
long-waisted for perfection. But I knew that by now I weighed
only 125 pounds, despite having more of an ass than I could
remember and despite what must be several pounds of breast tissue.
My waist was tiny and there were deep hollows over my collar
bones. As I looked at those hollows an image came unbidden into my
mind of Greg nuzzling me there last night, and how wonderful she
had made me feel. Was it too late for me? For us?

I turned to her. "Greg" I asked. "What should we do?"

She looked thoughtful.

"I guess we could call our parents" she said.

Neither of us were on good terms with our families, who in any
event lived far away. Just the thought of my father seeing me like
this destroyed any chance of pursuing that option. It was evident
from her expression that Greg was of a similar mind.

"Or we could complain to the College. What Franklin's done is
completely unethical. We still have the tapes and the machines as
evidence."

I protested. "Think of the stories, think of how we will be
treated. Even if they believe us, can you imagine what our futures
will be like?"

Greg turned to me.

"I know, honey. I just wanted to be sure that you understood.
Besides, I like being pretty!"

I mustered a brave smile.

"I guess I do too."

"Then let's go out and buy something special. Your Dr. Franklin
will be seeing you tonight...are you okay with that?"

"I think so.. and maybe picking out something really nice will
make me feel better about it."

I continued "The tough thing is, Greg, that I while l think of us
as girls, I know that we are not. We are physically still boys and
I don't think that will ever change. Yet I'm in love with him!"

"Sugar, you don't look like a boy to me, and I don't think that
Dr. Franklin thinks of you that way... although I guess he likes
girls with cocks!"

"Moping about it won't change things, I guess. And you're right...
we may as well enjoy being who we are" I said, smiling through my
incipient tears.

I got dressed carefully, rolling my nylons up my legs slowly in
order to avoid having a run. I chose white panties, bra and
garterbelt. Putting the bra on felt like an act of surrender to my
femininity, and I felt calmer once I had adjusted the cups to fit.
It was unheard of for us to go out dressed as females during the
day; last night had been the first time I had ever been outside in
a dress, or wearing makeup. But it felt as though it was now
inevitable. Soon the whole world would know. We had been tricked
into taking hormones, conditioned into dieting, and trained
subconsciously to think of ourselves as feminine creatures and
nobody would have gone to that much trouble to keep us under
wraps.

So I put on a white camisole and a pale lemon blouse, leaving
enough buttons undone so that the lace of my camisole was clearly
visible. It was daytime and I instinctively knew that only light
makeup was appropriate: just some lipstick and a very small amount
of eyeshadow.

I brushed my hair back and used a pink scrunch to hold it in a
ponytail. Small gold earrings replaced the metal studs, and I
chose a simple gold necklace.

My skirt was white, mid-thigh length with a short slit on the
right side. I chose a belt and a pair of shoes to match my blouse.
A spray of Obsession and I was done.

Greg was already dressed, and I was disappointed to see that she
was going out as a boy. On second thought, maybe that was unfair
to her.

She wore a white shirt, with the cuffs rolled up, and blue jeans
with a belt made of gold-colored chain. She had a gold bracelet on
her wrist and a hint of lace showed above the buttons of her
shirt.

She wore running shoes, but whereas the ones she usually wore were
white and green, these were white and pink. And I could see that
she had on the barest trace of light pink lipstick.

"You look super!"  she squealed. "I wish I'd been brave enough
to dress all the way. Do you think I should change?"

"Greg, you look fine, and besides, if we wait any longer, I may
chicken out"

We walked to Greg's beat-up old car and she drove. It took us
about fifteen minutes to get to Dalmy's.

Our special assistant, as we had come to think of her, was busy
with another customer, but she saw us come in and smiled. She
hurried over to tell us that she'd be with us in a moment,
stopping long enough to touch my sleeve and whisper.

"Oh sweetie, you look wonderful!"

Greg and I contented ourselves with looking over the newest
additions. We had long grown accustomed to the stares which we had
attracted when shopping while dressed as boys. Accustomed but not
completely ignorant of them either. This time was different, even
though the store was busy.

"Greg" I said. "Nobody's paying any attention to us"

She looked around.

"That's because we look like we belong. Even in this." She
pointed down at her clothing.. "I look as much like a boyish girl
than a girly boy.. and you are perfect!"

We smiled and giggled. If only people knew!

Loreen came over, after a longer delay than we had anticipated.

"Now girls, what can I do for you?"  she asked.

"Mike's going on a special date tonight! A REALLY special date,
and she needs something very special to wear!"

I blushed and lowered my eyes. Greg was speaking way too loud, and
while both of us had taken to speaking in softer, higher tones in
recent months, she still sounded more like a male than a female.
Referring to me as 'Mike' would cause consternation if anyone
overheard. It felt as if all eyes were on me, which shouldn't have
bothered me. But it did, maybe because I was suddenly conscious of
how feminine I looked.

Loreen was unfazed, as usual. She took my hands and squeezed
lightly.

"I knew something was up, what with you finally coming here in
decent clothes. He must be a very special man, and I think a very
lucky man to have you as his date"

She led us to the part of the shop in which evening wear was
displayed.

She sorted through rack after rack, while chattering away happily.

"Just you wait, I'll find you a perfect dress...you'll be absolutely
stunning!"

She held up one selection after another, but always shook her head
and put it to one side.

Then at last she held up a dress, looked at me and nodded.

"I think this will do. Now we'll have you try it on and I'll have
it altered immediately if it isn't a perfect fit"

She led me to the fitting room and handed me the dress.

"Are you wearing a slip?" she asked.

When I said that I was wearing only a camisole she strode off to
return almost right away with a long white half-slip, with a lace-
trimmed slit nearly to the waist.

"The slip's not as pretty as I know you like" she said. "But it'll
let us be sure that the dress hangs right. Make sure the slit is
on the left, and take-off your bra. This dress is for a girl who's
not afraid to be seen, who has firm breasts! Old women can't wear
this type of dress"  She smiled as she pulled the curtain shut.

The dress looked gorgeous and I had to try it on. I was impatient
while taking off my skirt and blouse, but it would have been
unladylike to hurry and risk damaging my clothes.

It was on at last, and I took a deep breath before looking at my
image in the mirror.

I almost fainted!

Looking back at me was a beautiful young woman wearing a dream of
a dress.

Her left shoulder was bare, and I could feel the coolness of the
air on both my arm and much of my back. The dress was made of
black satin, although the bodice, such as there was consisted of
black lace. The top of the lace just barely covered her left
nipple, and the entire breast was visible. The neckline ascended
to her right shoulder, such that her right breast was entirely
covered, although the lace started no more than half an inch above
the nipple.

The dress showed off her slender waist, and indeed I could not
remember ever realizing how slim I had become. No boy could ever
have worn this dress!

The dress managed to accentuate the flare of her hips. Or so I
assumed, since again I had not previously been conscious of how
dramatically my figure had changed.

As the girl in the mirror moved, turning sideways to look at her
profile, the ankle-length skirt moved with her, the long slit on
her left side revealing a flash of lace and flesh.

She was beautiful, and this even without proper makeup, or shoes,
or hair or accessories...

And she was me!

Wait until Greg sees me in this! I thought. Then, with a feeling
of warmth in my groin and my stomach, I thought 'Wait until Jack
sees me!'

I quickly thrust that thought form my mind. I couldn't afford an
erection here!

But thinking of how Greg would react gave me an idea.

I pulled back top of the curtain, holding the rest of it closed so
that I could stick my head out without revealing my dress. Greg
was nearby, looking through a catalog.

"Greg" I stage-whispered.

She looked up expectantly.

"Be a dear and ask Loreen to find me some shoes and maybe some
jewelry. I need to see how it feels when I'm wearing heels"

She took off right away and he and Loreen returned very quickly.
Loreen passed me a pair of simple black patent leather spikes,
maybe three inch heels. They had cute ankle straps and open toes,
just as I liked.

Once I had them on, I stuck my head out again and told Greg to
close her eyes.

Then I pulled the curtain open walked out. I felt wonderful!

I stopped four feet in front of Greg and told her she could look
now.

The expression on her face told me that my view of myself in the
mirror had been no lie. Her mouth dropped open and she was, for
the first time in our friendship, at a loss for words.

Then she ran forward and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek.

"Oh Honey" she said, squeezing me tight.

"You are so beautiful. That dress is you, really you!"

"You'll have to let go"  I said, half-jokingly. I could feel a
hardening in her jeans as she reacted to our embrace. My own penis
stirred where I had tucked it between my legs.

"Otherwise you'll ruin the dress, and maybe your panties!"

She stepped back quickly, a look of alarm passing over her pretty
face.

"Don't be such a tease" Loreen cautioned.

"Besides, that dress can take a hug or two... it had better, given
the way you look in it, dear. You rate to be squeezed by someone
much stronger than Greg and more passionate as well"

The next fifteen minutes were spent with Loreen supervising a
seamstress who took careful measurements and stuck pins in a few
places. Loreen helped me out of the dress and told me that it
would be delivered to my house no later than 5 o'clock.

Back in my skirt and blouse, but still glowing from wearing that
dress, I spent a happy hour trying on shoes. In the old days, the
idea of shopping was anathema to me. How could anyone take more
than a few minutes to buy something? That silly, macho attitude
was history now and Greg and I had a wonderful time, trying on
different pairs, walking up and down the aisle, and giggling over
our selections. Loreen eventually persuaded me that the pair she
had me wear while trying on my dress was the best selection

Then it was off to the lingerie department.

First, I had to have new panties. Since I was wearing black,
Loreen suggested that I stay with that color.

She surprised me by saying that they had recently got in a new
style of panty.

"We've had a number of special girls like you two in recent
months, as you know. It's something to do with that study you two
are enrolled in."

"And you girls sometimes have 'reactions' that tend to spoil the
image, if you know what I mean"

The memory of my budding erections when I had thought of Jack
Franklin seeing me in my dress and again when Greg had embraced me
sprang into my mind. If just thought could excite me, or physical
contact with another girl, how would I handle the reality of the
man I loved?

Loreen continued.

"These panties have a special tube sewn into them. They look and
fell like ordinary panties, and because of the market they are
designed for, they are very pretty. It's important that all of
your clothes reinforce your new self-image. However, when you put
them on, tuck your penis into the tube and the panty will hold it
between your legs. The material is stronger than it looks, so you
won't create a scene no matter how excited you get"

She produced several pairs, and I tried them on. I really liked
the pair with the black lace around the waist and the high-cut leg
openings, but I bought all of them. After all, a girl needs lots
of panties!

I had thought that I would wear the same garterbelt as I had last
night, but Greg insisted that I buy something new, and Loreen
agreed. In the end I bought one that was very similar: black with
small lace rosettes where the four tabs joined the belt.

Nylons came next. Loreen suggested either black with seams or a
smoky black with delicate patterns in the weave. I chose the
patterned nylons for tonight, but bought several pairs of each.

"You need a half-slip, and it's got to have a deep slit on the
side" Loreen told me.

"That means that this will have to do"

She produced a slip identical to the one I had worn when trying on
my dress, except that it was in black silk and lace.

I thought that we had finished, and Loreen had wrapped up my new
purchases for me, when Greg whispered something in her ear. She
brightened, and looked at me.

"Oh dear. We almost forgot! This is going to be your special
night! Your beau will adore you in that dress, but he will want to
ravish you once you're out of it. We need to find that special
little something that will make him desire you that tiny bit more
that gives you, as the girl, the true power of your sexuality"

The 'special little something' was a tiny confection of black
satin and lace. The satin covered my body from below my breasts to
just below my groin. The lace revealed, rather than concealed, my
breasts and my thighs. Tiny straps would hold it up, until, as
Greg giggled, "He tears it off!"

I blushed as Loreen held it in front of me, with a warm, knowing
smile.

Then a thought struck me.

"We're doing all this for me, Loreen. We should do something for
Greg as well. She's as much a girl as me and she deserves
something pretty as well"

Greg protested.

"This is your day.. it's your special night. I'm happy with all
I've got. Besides," she said "Maybe next time it'll be my turn and
you can find out how much fun it is helping your best friend
choose her fancy clothes for her first big date"

Loreen intervened.

"Mike's right, honey. Why don't you pick out a little something
for yourself. After all, you never know when Mr. Right, or maybe
even Ms. Right will come knocking at the door!"

That led to a delightful twenty minutes, culminating in Greg
picking out a very feminine nightgown similar to mine but in pale
blue, with cream lace trim.

We were at the cash register with our packages when I remembered
that Loreen had let slip that she knew about the study. Of course!
What a silly girl I was; so naove! Somebody had set up our
'special account', on which we'd spent hundreds and hundreds of
dollars. It had to be part of the plan.

"Loreen, tell me something" I said, placing my hand on her
forearm.

"You've known all about the study.. about what's been happening to
us.. about how we have been conditioned against our will?"

She put down the parcel she was running past the laser wand and
took a quick look around. There was nobody in the immediate
vicinity, but the store was crowded. She looked serious, biting
her lower lip as she thought about her answer.

She came to a decision.

"Follow me, girls"  she said. She placed our purchases on some
shelves beside the till and called another sales assistant over,
telling her to make sure the bags remained untouched until we got
back.

She then led us to the same small office where we had first
discussed our special account.

"I guess I can tell you now. You seem happy to be girls, and from
what I've been told it's too late for you to even want to back out
now"

We nodded our agreement.

She proceeded to tell us that she and Dr. Franklin were brother
and sister; and that their father had been killed when they were
quite young. He had been an unusual man and had been very lucky in
his choice of wife, since he had been a transvestite. He had even
been in nightclub acts as a Female Impersonator. His lifestyle had
been accepted as normal by his children, but when their mother
remarried they learned that most people looked on 'drag queens' as
abominations, even if they were heterosexual or, as Loreen
confided she suspected her father had been, bisexual.

Their mother's second marriage had been unhappy, and their step-
father had always been especially hard on Jack, who he accused of
being destined to grow up just like 'that fag, your father'.

The marriage had not lasted, and Jack had never shown the least
inclination to wear women's clothing. He had dated as a young man,
but had never been able to settle down. Loreen herself had been
abused by their step-father, although she gave us no details. It
was enough, she said, to make her unable to trust normal men.
Neither she nor Jack had ever settled down.

Jack's energies had been sublimated into his work. Perhaps his
childhood had influenced his choice of profession: to study
psychology might perhaps allow him to understand and thus to come
to grips with his childhood.

But along the way he learned that he was powerfully attracted to
boys who dressed and acted like girls. At the same time, the
respectability demanded of him as he pursued tenure and grants
made it dangerous for him to establish a relationship. Then there
was the problem of AIDS. Those 'girls' he did encounter were
usually prostitutes, or at the very least, were party girls with
whom he could never feel safe.

What could he do?

Through groups on the Internet he found that there were a number
of respected, successful men who shared both his desires and his
fears. It took years to identify a handful of people who could be
trusted, but eventually a small group of like-minded men decided
that what was needed were 'girls' who had no background as such.
Who would be virgins, and yet who would be enthusiastic and
monogamous lovers. Who could pass as women in any company. How
could this be done?

By coincidence Jack was offered a chance to work on a government
sponsored research project. It was for one of the more obscure
intelligence agencies and it was into behaviour modification. He
would ordinarily have turned them down. Such projects might
sometimes become public many years later, doing great harm to the
participants. The agency assured him that this would never happen,
and he pretended that that assurance had been sufficient. In fact,
he had decided to take the risk since he saw the project as
gaining him access to knowledge and techniques which would help
his group find their perfect lovers.

Another member of the group was a biochemist, with access to
hormones, appetite suppressants and other chemicals to assist in
the physical transition.

Jack had wrestled with moral qualms. He and Loreen had always been
close, despite their different career paths. She was eventually
able to get him to talk about the plan, and , to his surprise, she
immediately offered to help, using her position as a manager of
Dalmy's to help the candidates acquire their wardrobes without
causing an uproar.

She had only two conditions, she said.

The first was that Jack had to screen the candidates and be able
to stake his entire credibility on the promise that the girls
would enjoy their new condition: that they would be truly happy.

She stopped there and looked at us.

"Would either of you like to be boys again, and not be able to
wear your pretty clothes?"

I tensed. What could I say. Part of me wanted to cry out in
protest, but that part of me had no control over my actions.

We shook our heads, as if fascinated by her story, which was
anyway true.

"What was the second condition?" Greg asked, in a tone which
suggested that he half-knew and half-dreaded the answer, while all
the time needing desperately to hear it..

"Stand up, Greg" she said, matching her action to her words.

Greg obeyed and Loreen stepped towards her.

"Close your eyes, darling"` Loreen breathed.

I could see Greg tense as she closed her eyes. I held my breath,
knowing what I was about to witness was as momentous for Greg as
my date tonight would be for me.

Loreen was much the same height as Greg, and only a little
heavier. She placed her arms around Greg, sighing as she did so.

"I've waited so long"  she said as she pulled Greg close and
kissed her.

Greg stiffened for a moment and then she seemed to flow into
Loreen's embrace. I ducked my head and cleared my throat.

This got Loreen's attention and she pulled back from Greg, without
letting her go.

"She's my second condition! That Jack make me a perfect lesbian
lover.. a beautiful girl with a cock"

"But I think it's time Greg changed her name. I think she'll be
Gwen from now on"

Part 2

Gwen blushed, and seemed to glow with happiness. She leaned
forward and kissed Loreen passionately. I could feel my penis
stir, even though I knew that women were no longer for me. Soon I
would have my own moment; the moment when the veil that still
masked some of my new self would be torn away.

Finally the two of them surfaced for air. Loreen seemed almost
startled to realize that I was still there, while Gwen appeared
embarrassed.

Loreen looked at me as I looked at Gwen, and she smiled.

"Well, I've told you our little secret, and I have triggered
Gwen's change. Now we have to see about completing your
transition, don't we, Mike?"

I nodded. I now knew how Gwen had felt when asking Loreen about
her second condition. Fear mixed with desire as I contemplated the
completion of my journey.

Loreen led us back into the shop. I saw that she held Gwen's hand
until they were in the public area again, and even then they
remained close. Gwen's entire being seemed focused on Loreen, and
her cheeks glowed a fierce red until after we left the store.

Loreen helped us retrieve our packages, but she wouldn't let us
leave with them.

"Gwen will be staying with me"  she said.

"I'll send someone around to pick up her clothes from your house,
and I'll pick out some more for her here. You, in the meantime,
need to do something about your hair"

She handed me a business card on which I saw the name and address
of a hair salon. It was at least ten blocks away.

"I've already made arrangements. You ask for Denise, and she'll
take care of you, dear. You can leave the packages here. I will
have them delivered to Jack's place. There's no need for you to go
home after getting your hair done."

She gave me another card, with the number of a taxi company.

"We've set up an account for you, so you needn't drive anymore.
And here's a key to Jack's house. He won't be home until 6 or so:
enough time for you to look your best"

I put the cards and the key in my purse and went to the exit,
where a cab was already waiting. I still don't know how she
arranged that.

"Where to, Miss" the driver said.

I had given him the address before I realized that I had responded
automatically to being called 'Miss".

Part of me wanted to correct his mistake, but the greater part of
me felt happy about his recognition of qualities in me which I had
never prior to this day admitted to myself.

The ride to the beauty parlor was short and within five minutes I
was walking into this shrine to American femininity.

I had never been inside a beauty parlor before, and looked around
with interest.

The parlor had a pleasant waiting area, with low couches and
coffee tables loaded with women's magazines. Large potted plants
stood in two corners. The reception desk was directly ahead once I
stepped inside and I was greeted by a cheerful young woman, about
my age.

I was hesitant but she quickly put me at ease.

"You must be Aleisha" she said. "Loreen just called and told us
that you were on your way. Denise will be right out. Have a seat,
and can we get you anything to drink coffee or a soda?"

'Aleisha'. The name resonated in my mind and I was incapable of
any speech beyond a mumbled "No thank you" to her offer of
refreshments.

Two older women were seated, on different couches. They were
engrossed in their magazines and had paid me no attention at all.
I chose the third couch and sat nervously.

'Aleisha'... well I guess that coming here as Mike wouldn't really
fit, especially the way I was dressed.

I picked through the selection of magazines on the coffee table in
front of me. Mademoiselle, Chatelaine, Young & Modern, Women's
World and so on. I chose one at random and began glancing through
the pages. I wished that I had one of my romance novels in which I
could lose myself. Then I realized with a start that all of this
was not really me. My interest in romance novels had been
superimposed upon my mind, just as had my acceptance that
lingerie, skirts and blouses were appropriate dress for me.

I felt benumbed. Surely I should be screaming, outraged at my loss
of self. But I continued to sit, with my knees together and my
purse by my side, skimming the pages of a woman's magazine while
waiting for Denise to make me look beautiful. I could almost hear
a tiny voice deep inside, but it was too far away for me to make
out the words. Besides, it wasn't important.

"Aleisha?"

I looked up. An attractive young woman was standing over me,
looking down with an expectant expression. She held out her hand
as I stood, smoothing my skirt. We shook hands lightly. In the
past I had always tried to have a firm grip. With my slender
physique I had tried to avoid any indication of being a wimp. Now,
however, it was natural to just clasp hands lightly.

Denise led me into the next room where several barber's (or should
they be hairdresser's chairs) stood in cubicles separated from
each other by floor- standing panels in pastel shades.

All of the chairs except one were occupied and Denise led me to
her cubicle and waited for me to settle into her chair.

"Loreen told me all about you, Aleisha" she said brightly, while
turning my chair and lowering the back so that my head was resting
in an oval cut-out in a sink

"She did?" I asked, feeling my mouth dry up. How much did Denise
know? Did she know that I was really a boy?

"Yes, and I think it's really exciting" She was speaking quietly
and I could hear enough noise from the neighboring cubicles that I
wasn't afraid that anyone else would overhear.

"Loreen has been a client for years, and we share some of the same
interests, if you know what I mean"

She busied herself with adjusting the temperature of the water and
then began rinsing my hair.

"Just relax, honey" she said. "This is part of the fun of being a
girl"

She did know! I became acutely aware of my situation. I was lying
back in the chair, dressed as a girl and about to undergo a make-
over. All in preparation for a date with a man with whom I thought
I might be in love.  There were many similarities between my
situation and a romance novel.. but of course one huge difference.
The feelings I had had been forced onto me. My desires were not
mine at all. Or were they?

As I lay there, feeling Denise's ministrations and half-listening
to her cheerful commentary, my thoughts turned to an analysis of
my position. I knew that I was incapable of fully dealing with
what had happened to me. There was a layer of acceptance within me
that prevented me from getting angry or from listening to that
faint inner voice. An image of Gwen in Loreen's embrace flashed
before me. She had seemed so happy, so passionately in love. Would
she change her position in life now, even if she were offered the
chance to return to being a boy? Could she even do it, with the
memory of feeling like a girl still inside her? Could it happen to
me? I had not yet crossed that Rubicon, of surrendering to my pre-
destined lover, but I knew that that moment lay ahead for me
tonight. How would I react?

I felt a familiar stirring in my groin and was again glad that my
penis was well-restrained. No matter that Denise knew my true
nature; I would be mortified to reveal an erection in these
circumstances.

My reveries were interrupted by Denise raising the back of the
chair, with my hair now wrapped in a towel.

She dried the excess moisture form my hair with a vigorous rubbing
and then began to comb it out.

"You're very lucky, Aleisha" she said.

"You've got very thick hair. Most girls like you have thin hair
and even with conditioning it never really looks right. But yours
is fine. I can give you a great style!"

I had always liked my hair long, and had let it grow even before I
enrolled in the study. Naturally, I had not done anything to
shorten it since and it was more than shoulder length.

Denise cut and trimmed, keeping up her banter as she did so. I
began to feel relaxed and my mind began to drift.

The pungent smell of the lotion she was rubbing into my hair got
my attention.

"What's that?"  I asked.

She was giving me a perm!

It took several minutes for her to put my hair in rollers, and
then she placed my head under a drier.

"There. In twenty minutes, you'll look wonderful"

"In the meantime, we have a special treat in store for you"

She went away, to return in a few seconds with two other young
women.

"This is Felicia, and this is Christie" she said. "They are going
to pamper you, so lie back and enjoy it!"

The next twenty minutes was the a strange but enjoyable
experience.

Felicia took my left hand and began giving me a manicure while
Christie used a pair of tweezers on my eyebrows. Yes, it hurt, but
as she said, we girls have to suffer to be truly beautiful.

Christie had finished both eyebrows long before Felicia moved to
my other side and began working on my right hand. In the meantime
she gave me a facial.

I'd heard about facials but had never had one before. It was
wonderfully relaxing and I allowed my mind to resume its tendency
to drift off.

All good things come to an end and in due course Christie and
Felicia were finished. I looked at my hands with interest.

My nails were now a pleasing oval shape and the cuticles had been
carefully trimmed back. They were definitely the hands of a girl
rather than of a boy. She had even painted them, a more subtle
shade of red than I might have chosen for myself.

I could not see my face, since my back was turned to the mirrored
wall, but my skin tingled with vitality.

Denise came back and lifted the drier off my head. She pronounced
herself satisfied and began removing the rollers, while carefully
combing out my hair.

It felt different even though I could still not see myself. It
felt as if I had a lot more hair and yet at the same time as if it
weighed less than it had. She brushed it lightly, and fussed
around me for a minute or so, her eyes examining my hair
carefully.

Finally she straightened and moved behind me.

"Close your eyes, honey" she said.

I felt the chair turn, and then she told me to take a look.

I gasped for breath when I saw the image reflected back at me. It
was the same feeling I'd had when I had tried on the dress at
Dalmy's.

My hair now barely reached my shoulders. It cascaded in soft waves
down either side of my face, emphasizing its oval shape and
somehow, subtly making my features, always on the small side for a
boy, even smaller and more delicate. My eyebrows were thin arches
over my astonished eyes. I saw streaks of a reddish color in my
brown hair, which seemed richer, fuller than it had ever been
before. A yawning pit opened in my stomach as I briefly imagined
how I would look now when I put on that dress. An image of Jack
Franklin's smiling face flashed into my mind and a warmth flooded
into my stomach, filling and banishing the fear I had just
experienced.

"You like?" I heard Denise say, her smile evident in her tone.

I nodded and watched the girl in the mirror duplicate my movement.
There was no doubt but that she liked what she saw, and that 'she'
was me!

"Loreen told me that tonight's a special night for you. You've got
the hair, and the girls did a good job on your hands and face, but
you really need a professional makeup job. We'll make you look
like a movie star, honey"

She led me through to another area, in the back of the parlor.

She introduced me to yet another attractive young woman.

"This is Cindy" she said.

"Cindy is our best aesthetician, and she'll look after you"

My mind was still in turmoil. I had received so many surprises and
had felt so many new sensations that perhaps I was becoming
overwhelmed. Whatever the reason, I have few memories of the
session with Cindy.

I do remember that she spent an enormous amount of time on my
eyes, using at least four different colors of eyeshadow in
addition to eye-liner and mascara. She used three different colors
on my lips alone!

When I was eventually allowed to open my eyes I looked expectantly
towards the mirror. The vision I saw hardly affected me. I suppose
that I was becoming accustomed to seeing a beautiful girl look
back at me. This one looked far more sophisticated than the
earlier editions, and somewhat older. The biggest difference was a
sense that she was not merely comfortable with looking like a
sexual object, but happy and proud to be one. Did I really feel
that way? It was an uncomfortable thought and I found myself
averting my gaze. Whereas on earlier revelations I had been unable
to take it all in and had felt a need to look at my reflection for
longer than I had been permitted, now I was afraid to do so. Could
that image take me over? Had it already done so?

Cindy escorted me to the front of the beauty parlor. The other
three girls made sure to greet me and to wish me luck as I walked
past their stations.

A cab was waiting for me and I climbed in the back. Cindy leaned
in the front passenger window and gave the cabby the address. It
was Dr. Franklin's address.

Maybe I should have called out to direct him to take me home.
Maybe it wasn't too late.

Perhaps I could have gone home and scrubbed this makeup off my
face. I could have showered for an hour. A long cold shower might
have cleared my mind so that I could resist the spell under which
I had fallen. I could have regained my masculinity. Maybe even
helped Gwen recover hers.

But of course I did nothing. I sat, immersed in my own thoughts,
my hands moving occasionally of their own volition to touch my
hair in wonder. I spent several minutes just staring at my new-
look fingers.

"We're here, Miss" the driver said.

I was confused. For a second I had no idea where we were, and then
I fumbled for my purse.

I saw his eyes in the rear-view mirror.

"It's all paid for, Miss" he said. He sounded like a nice man.
Maybe he could help me?

But he couldn't. He wouldn't even believe me if I tried to tell
him. No, my destiny was already fixed.

I climbed out of the cab and made my way up the path. I remembered
the last time I had walked on these paving stones, after Dr.
Franklin had almost moved too quickly. He must be confident now. I
thought back to the sound of his voice on the telephone this
morning. Yes, he was confident, and, I thought with a wry inner
smile, with good reason.

The key Loreen had given me opened the door.

An envelope with 'Aleisha' printed in large capitals on the front
lay on the small table to the right of the door. The table had
been pulled forward, away from the wall so that it would have been
impossible to miss it.

'Aleisha'. The name echoed in my mind.

I picked up the envelope. It was of a heavy, very white paper, and
inside was a crisply folded note on equally fine stock.

'My Dear, you know where your room is... in case you forgot it's up
the stairs and the second door on the right. Your clothes are all
there. Take your time dressing. I will be home shortly. We will
have dinner.. the caterers will provide our service.. and then the
evening is ours. I am looking forward to tonight more than you can
imagine...'

It was signed in a bold hand.

"Jack' was all he had signed.

I made my way up the stairs, clutching the note and the envelope
in one hand, as if I needed the feel of his written instructions
in order to make it to the room.

The room was exactly as I remembered it, which I suppose was no
surprise given that only 24 hours had passed since I was here
last. Only 24 hours, yet so much had changed. Then I had still
been a boy, at least in my own mind. Now, I knew that I could
never really claim that gender again, but was I truly a girl? A
shudder ran through my body as my mind shied away from that
thought.

There was no sign of any of my parcels, but a look n the closet
where I had found the slip-dress yesterday revealed that my new
gown was there. The bureau drawers revealed all my lingerie
acquisitions of this afternoon.

I took my new underwear out of the drawers and laid it on the bed.
Standing motionless, I looked down at my pretties lying on the
soft satin duvet.

'Mike' I said to myself.

'It's put up or shut up, girl"

I had intended to say to myself: 'It's put up or shut up, boy',
meaning that this was the last chance I might have to break the
control that Dr. Franklin had imposed upon me.

Hearing me refer to myself in my own thoughts as 'girl' tore a sob
from my throat. There was no use!

I shook myself mentally and began undressing.

I removed my shoes first and then undid the belt that held my
skirt around my waist. The zipper was on the side and I quickly
stepped out of the skirt and carefully lay it beside my new
clothes.

Then came my blouse, which I placed on the back of a chair.

I was down to my camisole, bra, panties and nylons, which were
held by my garterbelt.

I pulled the camisole of over my head, being acutely aware, for
the first time, of the size of my breasts. It shocked me to
realize how large they had grown, all without my ever wondering
about what was going on.

Pulling my bra straps off my shoulder, I pulled it down, releasing
my breasts. I turned it around to get the hooks in front and then
took it off.

I walked over to the vanity and stood looking at my reflected
breasts. I put a hand under each and lifted, feeling the warm
weight of each mammary. They were not large; I wouldn't likely get
a job in any bar called Hooters. But they were far more than the
budding breasts one might see on a girl just entering puberty.
Even the aureoles had grown: they were now wide brown circles from
which my nipples protruded. I could both feel and see them become
erect as I fondled my breasts. Exquisite sensations flickered
through me as I fingered those proud displays of my new status.

I was finding myself getting deeper into internal conflicts. Part
of me relished the sensations I was invoking while part of me
recoiled in horror. It was this sense of turmoil that pulled me
away from the mirror to resume my disrobing.

I took off my panties, and my penis sprang into view between my
legs. It had several times engorged with blood and threatened to
pop free and form an embarrassing tent-pole in my skirt, but
fortunately that had not happened. I scratched it idly with one
hand while stepping out of my panties.

Then it was off with garter-belt. I sat down on the bed to remove
my nylons, rolling them down my smooth-skinned legs one at a time.

I was now naked. The thought of a shower occurred to me, but I
dismissed it immediately because it would ruin my makeup.

I walked around the room, reveling in the feel of the plush carpet
between my toes. The room was warm and I enjoyed the sense of
freedom I experienced. My breasts bounced a little; they were too
firm to move much, but I was acutely aware of the weight and the
pull on my pectoral muscles. Once again I marveled at how I had
not noticed them except in passing.

My penis also swung loose, and I realized that I was one of the
few people who would ever feel this dual sensation.

A fullness in my bladder prompted me to use the en-suite bathroom,
which I saw was equipped with a bidet. I was fascinated by the
various taps and tubes and spouts.

It was while I was washing my hands that I saw another white
envelope with my new name printed on it, lying beside the
washbasin.

It contained instructions to douche, using the douche kit I found
in the cabinet behind the mirror.

It took several minutes for these instructions to sink in. My
initial reaction was 'He's got to be kidding'.

But I was already opening the plastic package and reading the
instructions. Soon I had completed my douche, although I know that
I had cleaned a different opening than the manufacturer's had
intended.

Feeling weirder than ever, I walked back into the bedroom to get
dressed.

The first item was the garterbelt and nylons. The nylons were my
favorite shade of black with a delicate pattern woven into the
gossamer fabric. I know that I was simply repeating tasks which
had recently become routine, but tonight seemed different. Perhaps
it was the knowledge that I had been designed to be a sexual
object. Whatever the reason, every action seemed laden with
sensual meaning. Those nylons felt delicious on my smooth skin,
and the gentle tug that the slightest movement caused them to
exert against my garterbelt served to heighten my awareness of my
femininity.

The new panties were much the same as my other pair, but perhaps a
little more delicate. They were made of black silk, with high-cut
leg openings trimmed in lace. The silken tube which Loreen had
demonstrated to fit comfortably over my penis and held it securely
between my legs. I was surprised at how flat it made my groin
appear. Next came the bra. It was strapless and I had a difficult
time getting the hooks fastened. It was a much tighter fit around
my chest than I was used to, and it took me a few seconds to
wrestle it around once the hooks had been secured.

The bra had half-cups, in scalloped black lace. They were strongly
wired, and the result was to hold my already firm breasts even
higher,, while pushing them together. I realized that I would show
more cleavage than usual.

Then I stepped into my slip and it was time for the dress.

My breath was caught in my throat as I gently pulled the dress, on
its hanger, from the closet.

I moved slowly, taking extreme care, as I stepped into the dress
and pulled it up around my body. It felt every bit as divine as it
had when I had first tried it on.

Unable to stop myself, I walked back towards the mirrored closet
door. I turned back and forth, trying different expressions on my
face. First I looked demure, then in sequence, surprised, shocked
and then, with an inner thrill, I tried a sexy come-hither look.

Something was missing, even though I thought that I looked
wonderful.

I looked around, and my eyes lit upon the vanity. Sure enough,
several perfume spray bottles stood in plain view. I selected
Chanel No. 5. The memories of the commercials that seeing that
simple vial brought back made it no decision at all.

I sprayed my wrist and then dabbed some on my neck behind my ears.
Then with a feeling of wantonness, I dabbed some between my
breasts.

I opened the musical jewelry box, smiling when I heard the chimes
repeat the tune I had heard last night. I chose a simple gold
chain with a small diamond pendant to wear around my neck. I
thought of trying on other jewelry, but decided against it. My
stomach lurched as I saw the ankle bracelet. I picked it up and
again read the inscription; Aleisha - Property of Jack Franklin.

No, I couldn't wear it. Something told me it was still not time,
although that time was very close.

All that was left were the shoes. I had no idea how much time had
gone by.  Was I going to be dressed too early. Would I have to
wait, dressed to the nines, but with nowhere to go?

The soft ringing of a telephone interrupted my thoughts. I traced
the sound to a white Princess phone on a nightstand next to the
bed.

I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear.

"Aleisha?" I heard. It was Jack, and once again my body reacted
involuntarily. A brief dizziness passed through me and I felt a
tautness in my panties.

"Yes, Jack" I said.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

"Almost. I just have to put on my shoes."

"Very well. I will be waiting for you downstairs"

He disconnected.

More nervous than ever, I hurriedly selected a pair of moderately
heeled shoes, with a closed toe and open back. I had to sit in one
of the chairs to do up the ankle straps, and had to be careful to
smooth my dress beneath me as I sat.

And then I was ready. I opened the door and walked down the hall
towards the stairs. Butterflies filled my stomach and my throat
was dry.

Part 3

The click of my heels seemed incredibly loud as I walked along the
hardwood floor. My senses were alive. The tantalizing scent of my
perfume accentuated the sensual feel of my clothing. The swish of
silk on silk, the cool tingling in my stockinged legs, the tug of
my nylons against my garters with every pace caused me to feel an
all-consuming mixture of terror and anticipation.

The stairs presented a challenge which required all of my
faltering concentration. I had never walked down a long staircase
on heels and in such a long skirt. I found myself holding up my
skirt with my left hand while clutching the handrail with my
right. I focussed on walking on the balls of my feet so as not to
lose my balance. I was glad that there was no-one watching me as I
gingerly made my way downstairs.

Once again I was led onwards by the sound of music from the living
room.

Dr. Franklin was standing this time, and I thought for a second
that I had interrupted some nervous pacing.

Last time I had entered this room I had been wearing a pretty
slipdress, and had been as careful as I could be with my makeup.
But I had still been thinking of myself as a boy. Now, with my
professionally applied makeup, newly coiffed hair, and my gorgeous
dress, I knew that whatever I was, I could not think of myself as
at all masculine. I knew that he saw me as his feminine dream, and
I also knew that much of me wanted, yearned, to be that dream for
him.

His appreciative smile settled the butterflies a little. He walked
towards me and took my right hand in his. He raised my hand to his
lips and kissed it lightly on the back, while looking at my
reaction. I felt something was called for and before I could
consciously react, I made a little curtsey. His smile braodened
and, without letting go of my hand he led me into the dining room.

"I've ben waiting for you all my life" he said.

"And tonight you will become mine!"

"But first" he said, as we entered a large dining room furnished
in mahogany and with an enormous crystal chandelier suspended over
the long, dinner table covered with brilliant white damask and
gleaming silverware, "First, we dine"

The table was set for two, with several different wine glasses
beside each place setting.

He pulled back a chair for me, and I obediently sat. I had not
spoken a word since I had arrived at the house, and it seemed as
if my power to speak had been taken from me. He continued, as if
oblivious to my silence, as if my lack of response was only to be
expected. Perhaps it was, perahps my role in this performance had
been carefully scripted; my actions somehow memorised by my
subconscious brain from those tapes I had played so faithfully.

Dinner passed in a haze. I was aware, dimly, of a uniformed maid
appearing and reappearing, bringing a series of dishes and plates
to the table and removing them when we were finished. I do recall
that my servings were small, and that I was unable to eat most of
what was provide to me, even though it was all delicious.

I recall, also, sipping at the wine which Jack Franklin poured
into my galss from time to time. thre was a different wine with
each course; I vaguely remember a white, perhaps a Chardonnay,
with the salad, and a strong, full-bodied red witht he entree. I
drank as sparingly as I ate.

It seemed that it was enough for me to listen to Jack as he
talked. He ate with great enjoyment and told me, between bites of
food and swallows of wine, of his childhood. He told me of how his
father had always been a loving husband and caring parent. Yes, he
said, his father had often dressed as a woman, but that had seemed
so natural to Jack and his sister, Loreen. It was only as he grew
up and other children began describing what their fathers did for
a living that he realized that his father was unusual. The family
moved a good deal, and he learned early to keep quiet about his
father's lifestyle Nevertheless, it frequently happened that the
secret would become known in the neighbourhood and soon Jack and
Loreen would be subjected to crule taunts.

Jack grew more sombre when he talked about the pain that these
unkind children had caused him and his family, but he brightened
as he described how his parents had remained firmly in love. They
were both in showbusiness; his mother as a nightclub singer. It
was how they had met, and while they were an unlikely couple they
had truly seemed destined for each other. He said that it was not
until years later that he realized that his father had been
bisexual. There had often been male friends around the home,
altough these friends seemed to change at each new town and each
new engagement. There had been women too, and he now understood
that his parents had each enjoyed the attentions of lovers of the
same gender. He mused that perhaps he had always known, in some
inner secret manner, of this aspect of his parents' lives and that
that might explain why he and Loreen had ended up with their
distinctive sexual desires.

It was as if he had to justify himself to me. As if he could, by
explaining his life story, make me feel that what he ahd doen to
me and Greg, and others in the 'study' was 'right'.

I remember sitting there, smiling at him and nodding from time to
time while pecking at my food and sipping the wine. His speech
had, I think, the oposite effect to what I assume he intended. I
had sat down feeling a powerful attraction to him; a feeling that
this was my destiny.

But as the meal passed and I sat in silent, captured, attention,
it was as if my inner mind had time to think and to examine what
was happening.

I was still very much aware of my feminine appearance. I felt
pretty, and part of me felt proud that I could be so attractive.
But that inner voice which I had been ignoring for so long was
becoming louder and more insistent. Several times I squirmed in my
chair as that part of me tried in vain to take control of my body
and make me leave; make me run screaming from this house.

He must have noticed, because partway through dessert he raised
his napkin to his lips and said:

"I've been boring you, Aleisha. It's time we moved on"

He picked up the small bell that sat on the table tohis left and
gave it a shake. The maid came in answer to his summons and he
told her that she could leave.

"Don't worry about the table or the dishes. You can do them
tomorow"

She thanked him and wished the two of us a pleasnat evening.

Did she know? I wondered. Would she help if I called out?

The moment was gone before I could even attempt to say anything.

Jack stood and held back my chair as I got up. He led me back to
the living room where he stopped and turned, drawing me into his
arms.

I resisted. Yes, I actually stiffened in his arms. However, he
only held me tighter and then he lowered his mouth to mine.

The warmth of his lips surprised me, as did their firmness. He was
clean-shaveen but even so I felt the bristles of his stubble. His
kiss was so unlike any I had ever experienced, but then I had
never been kissed by a man before... not counting Gwen of course.

His lips released mine quickly and he pulled back a few inches to
gaze down at me, gauging my reaction.

The kiss had banished all thought of resistance. I wanted more and
my expression must have confirmed this because he kissed me again,
with his arms around me and his male scent filling my nostrils.

I closed my eyes involuntarily and clung to him with a fervour
born of a desparate need. I felt his tongue probe my lips and I
opened my mouth to allow him entry. My body felt alive, and I felt
blood flowing to my constricted penis. I was reacting physically
to this man, and I welcomed my reaction with my entire being.

Then a cold sense of reality broke in on me. It was as if I were
standing outside myself, watching the two of us in our lustful
embrace. I could picture in my mind the tall, handsome man kissing
his beautiful girl, but I knew that that beautiful girl was really
a young man who had been conditioned into thinking that he was
really a girl; a girl in love with his tormentor. Shame and
humiliation rose within me like a tide, but not matter how
strongly that tide swept through my consciousness, it made no
difference to the physical sensations I experienced, and it had no
impact on my actions. To my imaginary observer, I remained
passionately attracted to my lover.

We broke our embrace, boith of us breathing hard. I could see that
his pupils were dilated and my must have been as well since I
could see him with greater clarity than I had ever seen anyone.
How could that be? I was both repulsed by what I was doing and
enormously turned on.

He bent and put one arm behind my knees while his other was
beneath my shoulders. Before I could react, he had lifted me of
the floor and began walking to the stairs.

I know that I had lost considrable weight, and that Jack was a
tall, sinewy man, but I was still overwhelmed by this display of
strength. If anyhting could reinforce my self-image as a helpless
female in the possession of her powerful male lover, it was the
feeling I had as he rapidly climbed the stairs as if I weighed
nothing at all.

He pushed open the door into the room where I had dressed earlier
that evening and carried me across to the bed, where he lowered me
carefully to the satin cover.

He kissed me oncemore, his hands roaming over my body. Electrical
impulses tingled in my nipples as his firm fingers stroked therm
throug the material of my dress. I could feel his erection
straining against his trousers, and pressing against me as we
clung to each other.

"My darling Aleisha" he breathed.

"I need you now!"

"At last I found my voice. But it was not a voice which spoke of
my inner feelings. No, it was a voice which spoke the role for
which he had so painstakingly, and so masterfully, prepared me.

"Oh God, Jack. Please take me!"

He stood up and looked down at me.

"I think Loreen found you something for this moment" he said.

Of course! I stood up and hurried to the closet. Why was I doing
this? I was a puppet, and yet despite my new-found repugnance,
some part of me cried out, welcoming the chance to surrender. That
part of me yearned for his embrace, yearned to be able to wear the
ankle bracelet which I glimpsed still resting on the vanity. To
wear it with a sense of pride and joy. My inner war made no
difference to the apparent eagerness with which I responded to
Jack. I opened the closet door and found my nightgown. I pulled it
out, concealing it against my body.

"Don't look" I commanded as I hurried past him to the bathroom.

Once inside, with the door closed, I began to undress. I was
frantic with need, but even so I made myself be careful not to
tear any of my clothing.

I was down to my panties and nylons. I pulled my penis out of it's
confining tube and realized that there was no hiding it now. I was
already semi-erect. Oh my God, I thought to myself. My body wants
him.

Of came the nylons and on came the nightgown. I looked at myself
in the mirror before returning to the bedroom and the fate which I
knew awaited me there.

Slender black silk straps stood out against my cream-coloured
skin. Delicate lace half-hid and half-exposed my breasts. My
nipples were erect and I could feel the lace of my bodice against
them. I had never realized how stimulating that would be. The
black satin clung to my torso, emphasizing the unexpected flare of
my hips. The lace trim extended the hem by several inches, but it
was cut so short that my half-erect penis was clearly visible,
causing an obvious bulge. There was nothing I could do about that
so I smiled at my reflection, pulled my shoulders back, and opened
the door.

I swept back into the bedroom.

Jack was naked himself, and standing beside the bed.

My attention was immediately drawn to his penis. He was very well
endowed, at least eight inches and much thicker than mine. It rew
as I watched, coming fully erect as soon as he saw me. For some
reason that made me feel very warm inside, and my own penis
stiffened in response. I was as hard as I had ever been in my life
and I was mesmerized by my sight of Jack's powerful body and
rampant penis. My inability to control my physical reaction only
added to my inner shame.

"Come here" he said, his voice very husky, as if his throat were
clogged.

I moved towards him. I could feel the plush carpet between my
toes. My own perfume floated around me. I felt cool air on my bare
shoulders and legs and the delicious whisper of satin and lace on
my body as I crossed the room towards my lover.

We kissed; gently this time,with just a touch of our lips. A sigh
escaped from me as our lips parted. I felt pressure on my
shoulders as he used his hands to encourage me to kneel.

I sank to the floor before him, keeping my eyes closed as they had
been when we kissed. Only when I was kneeling before him did I
open them.

There, bobbing just incehes away was his penis. I was fascinated.
I could see a small trace of fluid at the tip and I reached out
with the tip of my tongue to taste. It was as if I were just
trying to get the smallest possible taste of some delightful ice-
cream cone. I could not believe this. I was acting like a girl in
heat, and indeed my body felt more alive than I could ever
remember feeling. Whether the real me agreed or not, my body was
overwhelmingly attracted to this man.

I heard him groan as my tongue touchd him gently. That encouraged
me to begin to lick his penis, up and down that straining,
throbbing shaft.

"Aleisah, suck me!" I heard him say, desire rendering his voice
hoarse.

I opened my lips into an 'O" shape and bent froward, taking as
much of my lover into my mouth as I could. I was new to this, but
I was determined to do the best I could. I sucked slowly, moving
my head up and down, savouring the warm velvety feeling. My own
penis throbbed in sympathy.

He began to move back and forth, in time to my administrations and
the pace quickened. I thought that he was about to come and I
sucked harde, while using my hand to stroke the part of his poenis
I could not get into my mouth. It was as if I were on auto-pilot.
Once more an image appeared in my struggling mind, an image of me
kneeling before him, lost in my worship of his cock. It was a
nightmare, and one from which there was no escape.

Then I felt his hands on either side of myhead and he pulled me
back. His penis pulled out of my mouht with a plopping sound, its
skin wet with my saliva and the purple head seeming even larger
than before.

"No, Darling. The first time has to be inside you"

He lifted me up and then lowered me to the bed. He turned me over
onto my stomach and told me to raise myself onto my elbows and
knees.

By now I was truly acting, and feeling, like a bitch in heat and I
obeyed, pleading with him to hurry.

He opened a jar of KY which was on the nightstand. Obviously this
was the long-plaaned denounement of a carefully thought-out
scheme.

He used his fingers to gently massage my rectum, fitting first one
then two and then three fingers inside me.

I had never experienced anything like the sensations he caused
with those fingers. I thought I was going to cum when I felt him
inside me initially. As it was I squealed in delight. My inner
humiliation

He worked patiently even though I was gasping and beging him to
fuck me. I wanted him inside me, takimg me and establishing his
ownership of me.

He pulled his fingers back and climbed up behind me. He pushed my
legs further apart and knelt between them.

I felt something warm and hard against my rectum and then a firm
pressure.

He entered slowly, and at first I felt only pleasure. But he kept
on penetrating deeper and deeper. God, he was huge! It became
painful and then excruciatingly painful. I wanted to call out for
him to stop, and I wanted to call out for him to continue!

Finally he stopped. he was allthe way inside me and I felt his
body leaning forwardover my rear. His breath was coming heavy. He
waited and I could feel my insides relax, as my body adjusted to
his presence within me. Then he began tomove, slowly pulling back
and thenpushing forward again. The paineased wiht each repetition
and soon it transmuted into pleasure.

His rythythm increased as he sensed my acceptance of him and
before long I was moving myhips in time to him, urging him deeper
and deeper inside me.

Moans were torn from my lips as I called out for him to fuck me
harder. I could feel sweat drop from his bdy into mine as he
strained away at me. His strokes were becoming shorter and more
powerful as I felt a hand grasp my penis and begin to masturbate
me in time with his passion.

Then we came. Both at the same time

(to be continued)