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Something in the Water Ch. 02

By: sublocked



I couldn't help it; no-one had ever accepted my cross dressing before in my life (not that I had attempted this before with anyone, as I had always been too embarrassed), and I found myself my own worst enemy. I felt ridiculous, not at all the way I had imagined it. The arousal that I had felt only moments before became burdened with the equivalent of anvil weights of shame and guilt, a cross dresser's nightmare or dream, depending on the state of mind. At this point, let's just say that Viagra would have been helpful.

"Jen, I don't know. I feel weird."

"Hmm, this is interesting," she said pensively, "I've been thinking that I would be the one backing out of this, not you. To be quite honest, (and I'm surprised too), I find this whole thing kind of erotic. No, more than kind of."

She stood back and abruptly strode over to the closet where she donned a bath robe, "Maybe this is going too fast for you. Let's slow it down, take our time, have some more wine. Maybe we won't even make love tonight; I just want to explore this okay? Come over here baby."

She motioned for me to sit at the vanity mirror while she opened some drawers and sifted through the feminine accoutrements of makeup.

"Do you know how to do makeup at all?"

"No," I said, "I've only worn women's clothes. Thought about it, but I really didn't have a clue about it."

"Okay, let's have some fun then okay? Experiment a bit. I'll get us some more wine first, so just relax."

I sat there at the vanity feeling very strange, like I had been transferred into another dimension. It was not altogether unpleasant, just bizarre, as any heterosexual cross dresser would feel I suppose, at least one who had not ever come to terms with their identity. I felt my legs, so smooth in the nylon, and the skirt was slightly stretchy so that it pulled my legs together in a very feminine way. The bra was tight, maybe a bit small, as it cut a bit into my midriff, and the straps were forming a groove on my shoulders. The socks that gave me breasts presented a slightly lumpy appearance, and while I waited, I pulled them out and rearranged them so they were more smooth and natural looking. Jen came in just as I was feeling my "breasts". 

She laughed, "Jackie, a lady never feels her own breasts unless she desperately wants to get intimate, either alone or with a lover. Here's your wine. Now drink and relax."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, and laughed.

"Okay, let's have some fun." She spun the chair around away from the mirror and stared at my face for a long time, thinking, "Well, I see we won't need much blush, will we?"

My face was burning up with excitement, embarrassment, perhaps humiliation too...just, well...just many things. I sipped my wine whenever I could in between Jen's art work on my face...the foundation, the mascara, eye shadow, lipstick. It seemed to take a long time, but actually it lasted only two glasses of gulped wine. Finally she said, "Well I wish we had your wig, but we don't. Doesn't matter. You look great." And she spun me around to look.

I couldn't believe it. My eyes seemed so large and feminine, and my lips...I tasted the lipstick...my mouth was so...different. I made an artificial smile and glanced at Jen staring at me, her mouth open with astonishment.

"Oh my God," she said, "Oh my God! Stand up Jackie! You look gorgeous!"

I didn't. But close enough.

Our painted lips met and we crushed our bodies together, breathing heavily as we struggled to get to the bed without breaking our embrace. Once there, she unzipped my skirt, pulled it down, and then followed with a rip at my panties. Since I had put them on first, they could not be removed without removing the garter belt. Far enough. I burst out and she pushed me onto the bed while her legs straddled me, my legs held together by the panties. We were in full lust, and she mounted me easily, yelping sweetly as there was no resistance, lubrication not an issue. I thrust wildly as she did the same, and then she slowed it down, saying, "Slower Jackie, slower, yes, yes, okay, good...yesss, oh God."

She had her hands on my ""breasts" as she pumped up and down on me, occasionally leaning over to smear our lipstick together. I had never felt this way before. Ever. We built a rhythm, a slow tempo of only slightly controlled lust. I held her at her narrow waist as she maintained her control of the action. She alternated between holding my "breasts" and rubbing my gartered hips. Slowly her weak moans became stronger, and I felt myself almost crying with joy as her moans developed into a siren's wail. I lost it then, and thrust wildly, emptying myself into her as she screamed, matching me stroke for stroke in perfect harmony.

She fell on top of me as I continued to thrust. I didn't want it to end, but it did. We stuck together with our sweat, and panted. There was silence but for that. Well, not silence really, more like a gale wind blowing leaves in a forest, the other-world feeling of mutual orgasm. As our bodies normalized, the "wind" diminished and our world became still. She lifted her head and looked at me.

She smiled. I smiled. We slept.

Something in the Water Ch. 03



Something was irritating me. My feet felt odd, like they were jammed inside too-small shoes, and I couldn't spread my legs out to stretch. I awoke with a start as I realized my panties were acting like a hobble, pulled down as they were, just above my knees. As I rolled over to adjust things, my shoulders felt the bra and I moaned with the sheer ecstasy of it all. I sat up, finally opened my eyes, and there was my Jenny, lying beside me languid and smiling at me with her head leaning on her left arm and hand. Her hair was messy and sexy.

The room smelled like sex, perfume, pheromones, sweat, and lubricating fluids a mix unlike any other. I reached down to pull up my panties and brushed the half dried semen on my lower belly that was dumped upon me before Jen rolled off during our sleep. I smiled and reached for her.

But she pulled away. "We have to talk," she said, the smile gone.

"What? Like a debriefing after the event?" I laughed.

Jenny was smiling slightly, but serious as she said, "Yeah, I guess. Something like that."

My heart was sinking. She didn't like this after all. I was going to be put down, parceled up and put away again, just like the rest of my life to date. I reached for the covers on the bed and covered myself up, embarrassed and ashamed once again. Did it ever end?

Jen continued, "Look Jackie...Jake, I..." She got up and wrapped herself in her bath robe, "I'm mixed up and afraid about this. I feel weird. I feel excited, but right now I don't feel comfortable. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. I dunno; what do you think?"

I had become very good at stifling my desires, as my self esteem was tuned low, so I said carefully and with concern for her, not me, "I understand. It was fun, but I get it. Maybe it's not for you." 

I actually felt completely crushed and I continued by blurting out, "Would you mind leaving the room while I get out of these things?" I couldn't stand the thought of being in her presence dressed like this. I was breathing shallowly, almost nauseous, and I waited for her to leave.

"No," she said softly, shaking her head, "you don't understand. I'm the one with the problem, not you."

I looked at her, puzzled, "What the hell do you have a problem with other than the fact that your husband is a pervert?" I was angry, and now selfish; I was anguished. My world at that moment was very, very small; I was thinking of me.

"Jake, stop it! You are not a pervert. Well, actually you are...but that's not the problem. I think I am too. That's the problem." And she laughed slightly.

"Jen, look; I'm the one dressed in a garter belt. I understand where this has to go. It's okay. The way it was before is okay. I'll always love you; that's what's important." 

It was not okay. I knew it. Don't go there. Don't go there. Don't ever go there.

Jen looked at me and started to pace the room. What the hell was going on inside her head I wondered? She continued to stare and pace, stare and pace, pausing only long enough to gulp down some very warm leftover Chardonnay on the vanity. Finally she came over to me and sat down on the edge of the bed, curiously pulling the sheet down, away from my neck, and gently touching my gartered hips.

"Jake...Jackie? I have a confession to make." I started to ask her what it was, but she put her hand up making me stop.

"Jake, I've put you through misery for seven years. No, don't say anything; I have to get this off my mind. You presented me with your fantasies about five years ago I believe, and I shut you down. No, let me finish! The reason I did that is not what you think, not what you think at all."

Jen paused to control herself. Were those tears? Jen never cried. Ever. I was speechless as I waited. I couldn't imagine what could be so traumatic, that she would be in such a state. Did she have a lover? Did she never love me? No, I trusted her; she loved me; she had to; she just had to.

"The reason I shut you down was because...was because I was...I was afraid of the unknown. I was afraid of me, not you. Opening up Pandora's Box like that would have been an uncontrolled event, one that I didn't understand, one that would have changed our dream of having a normal family, all that stuff."

"Oh, honey...honey, don't," I said as I hugged her close. She was crying now as we both remembered the surgery three years ago, the closing event on our plans for having children.

She straightened up and wiped the tears away, "Let me finish. Now that it's just us, and always will be, things are different, but I'm still afraid. Jake, I can't be "out of control"; you know that. I hate it when I can't control things. The problem is...well, the problem is..."

The problem was that she wasn't spitting it out, as far as I was concerned.

She continued, "The problem is that the thought of you dressed up in girdles, corsets and skirts is... Damn it; it's just plain erotic for me. It always has been, and I don't know whether I'm a lesbian or what! I thought I could handle it, but I'm not sure I can. There, I said it!" And she stood up abruptly and stared at me with her hands on her hips.

I was dumbfounded, "You mean I'm not the problem? You're the problem?"

I couldn't help it. My shame and guilt evaporated like mist on a hot frying pan and I started to laugh. I laughed hysterically until I noticed she wasn't. My shaking shoulders became still and I held out my hand to her, "Honey, come here. You could be attracted to door frames and I'd still love you. You've just made me the happiest man on the planet. Unbelievable! My fantasies are yours? And YOU have a problem? Come on; let's get up and crack open another bottle and talk okay? I'll get out of these things."

My laughter hadn't been completely wasted I saw, as she smiled and said, "No, damn it; get up and put your skirt back on. Then we'll talk."

For the first time in my life I pulled the skirt up over my hips, did up the back zipper and smoothed my blouse as best I could, all without guilt or shame. Everything swished as I moved and the exhilaration was palpable. I wanted her again.

Later, sitting at the kitchen table, candles lit, we talked, and it was the most warm and honest talk we had ever had. Intimate secrets, all held close till now, revealed themselves like crocuses under retreating spring snow.

"Jen, there's one thing I don't understand. If this is your reaction to this, you must have known that you might feel this way, and yet you say you ordered a corset and breast fillers for me. Why?"

She stared at her wine glass and delicately stopped a run of wine down the side of the glass. "Well, I simply underestimated the power of it I guess. This is harder for me than I thought and in a very different way."

I thought about that for a second and then said, "You say you studied my fetish for quite awhile. Well, you must also know that a man like me quite often needs to be controlled, to be dominated if you will, by a woman. You say you feel out of control. I don't get it. You can control everything if you want. It's just you and me. What does it matter?"

Her eyes flashed green again in the candle light and she had the strangest look, a Mona Lisa look. "That's exactly what Jillian said," she mumbled.

My heart froze. "Jillian! Jillian? Your friend and my friend Jillian? Doug's wife, Jillian? You were talking to her? About me? About this?"

Jen froze then too. "You mean you didn't actually know about Doug? For God's sake Jake, do you know him at all? Haven't you noticed his face?" She shook her head in amazement in a "duh" moment.

There was a hole opening up in the fog. "Wait...you mean Doug is a cross dresser? What about his face?" I squinted my eyes trying to picture him and then I got it; he had the strangest eyebrows I had ever seen, slim, arched, feminine. Contrived, that was it, contrived. And Jillian always told him what to do and where to do it.

"Oh. My. God. So is Doug gay?" I asked, immediately realizing the ludicrous and universally accepted way of categorizing a cross dressing male.

"No, he's not. Are you?" Jen asked sarcastically, "I can't believe you said that. She's been in control of him for years now after she caught him dressing in her clothes."

I tried to picture him all dressed up and it didn't work in my mind. I watched football games with him for Christ's sake. We golfed together and we swore like troopers when we hit a drive off the fairway. We pissed on tree trunks side by side in the bushes. Dressed up and made up? No, no, and no. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Then my mind came back to the real issue.

"You talked to her about my cross dressing? How could you do that? How long ago was that?" I had visions of Jillian and Doug imagining me in women's clothes and I shuddered. I was angry and it showed.

Jen was never one to back down from a fight, and sensing one now she bristled at my anger. "Look, thanks in no small measure to Jillian, you are sitting here right now dressed in, let me see...garter belt and hose, panties, bra, blouse and skirt, with other goodies on order. And it seems to me you really like it, don't you... JACKIE? You can go change out of them right now and I can cancel the orders. You want that?"

The way she said "Jackie" I found humiliating, but strangely erotic. I was silent as I pondered that. I liked humiliation? Did I? I calmed down and said, "Yes, I'm afraid I do like it. A lot. But why did you have to talk to someone else about it?"

"Simple; I saw our marriage disintegrating before my eyes and I talked to my best friend about it. Girls do that you know. It's the way we cope."

I poured myself another glass of wine, stared at it droopy-eyed, and then pushed it away, realizing I had hit the limit. There was no more upside to drinking, only downside. I sighed, "Okay, I get it. What's done is done. So, what did she tell you?"

Jenny had pushed her wine aside as well and got up to get a drink of water instead. "Many things," she answered, and her eyes flashed green again.

What was different about her now, I wondered? Suddenly my wife was this mysterious person who knew more about me than I knew about her, or maybe even myself. Quietly I said, "Don't drink the water."

"Why?"

"Something in the water here, remember?"

We both stared at each other for a few moments and then we burst out laughing.

"Well," she smirked, "I'm feeling pretty good. I'll drink as much of this water as I want. And you know what? I don't think you'll stop me, will you? Seriously, I am feeling better though. I think I can handle this. This has been a good talk. You look so cute in your outfit by the way, but your makeup is a mess."

"You didn't answer me. What did she tell you?" I asked.

"Yes I did answer you, but I can add this. Cross dressing is something that can get out of control. If I let you, you'll be dressed all the time or at the very least, times when I don't want you to be. I'm not saying I wouldn't like that; I'm just saying that I have to be the one in control of the journey. I buy your clothes; I tell you what to wear, when, and how long. Any body alterations will be my decision, not yours. My actual fantasy is...umm, oh never mind."

I perked up at this. "No, you can't leave me hanging like that."

"Okay, you asked for it. I think I want a real man, real penis, a man that looks like a real woman, real boobs, all that. How's that for kinky? And you say you're the kinky one!"

My penis stirred in my panties and my face started that burning sensation again. "Real boobs? Wait a minute here. That's actually been a fantasy of mine but it's not realistic. I have a job, friends, all that. This can't go beyond the bedroom. Could it?" I stopped and started to imagine myself out in public dressed as a woman, "passing" with the help of bouncy breast implants. It excited and scared the hell out of me. "I was just thinking; this could be a life changing event couldn't it?"

She sat in silence for awhile, thinking. "I suppose that's true. I guess I should make some rules for you to follow shouldn't I?" 

Jen took a few sips of water and started pacing. "Okay, just so I can ease myself into this a little bit slower, here are the rules then. Number one: you dress up only when I say; number two: I am the object of your desires...no masturbation." I tried to interrupt. "No," she said, you told me years ago that you sometimes masturbated when you dressed. I don't like that. I remember EVERYTHING."

"And number three: I make the rules. There; I actually feel better, but I can't help but feel like I'm a slutty dominatrix or something."

We laughed at this and I said, "Well, maybe you are dear; maybe you are."

We both looked at the clock at the same time. It was 1:00 AM.

"Jackie?" she said softly, "It's time we went to bed to sleep this time. But I can't help it; I have to fix your makeup. Oh, and I have another item for you to wear. Take your blouse and skirt, hose and garter belt off and I'll show you."

I followed her like a puppy into the bedroom and the closet where she held up the most exquisite sky-blue satin nightwear. Jen unbuttoned my blouse so I could remove it and I slipped out of the skirt, hose and garter belt and I let the satin gown fall over my body. It had a heavy feel but slipped over my skin without friction. I was breathing heavily as she sat me down at the vanity once again to fix my makeup. Who did she think she was fooling, I said to myself, as she reapplied the mascara, eye shadow and lipstick? She wanted sex again and I did too.

Happy and relaxed other than the sexual energy, we went to bed. She laid with her back to me as we spooned, silk and satin on silk and satin.

"That's it baby. I want you to want me. I'm done for tonight. Good night. I love you," she whispered.

"Ohhh," I groaned, "Okay, I love you too."

"Good boy. Remember, I control things now. Sleep tight baby. Early to work tomorrow."

I lay there swimming in the silk and satin of my gown as she pulled away from me and went to sleep. The last thought I can remember before sleep overtook me as well, was how could our world have changed so fast?



Something in the Water Ch. 04



The alarm clock went off way too early. I had only vague recollections of last night; my head was pounding; I was nauseous, and I needed a drink of water badly. I shuffled to the bathroom and turned on the light, my eyes deliberately closed to avoid the hit of full light, and I put my hands over them to gradually allow cracks of illumination through. Each ray of light was like a lightning bolt of pain, so I progressed slowly. In the distant recesses of my dulled senses I felt something was different, like my body was moving, greased, smooth, and yet restricted in some places, a tightness. My hands touched my nightdress and I think my eyes flew open then as the silky satin slipperiness shocked me into reality. I felt my "breasts"...the remembrance of last night rushing back. The mirror showed a man in drag staring back, 5 o'clock shadow, smeared lipstick and eye shadow, lumpy sock-breasts and a hairy chest. It was not a pretty sight. Ludicrous, actually. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, erotic about this picture.

Groaning, I grimaced and got out the Advil, throwing back three of them with a full glass of water. I waited. It never occurred to me to get undressed. My brain felt so scrambled that I hoped the cure would be immediate. It was not. I sat on the edge of our double bathtub rubbing my face and when I looked up, Jenny was in the doorway grinning.

"Jesus, you're a sight this morning. Sorry to be so direct, but you look like shit honey. Here; I'll show you how to get that makeup off. I can't stand to look at you." She grinned and started applying makeup remover as I winced at the slightest pressure on my aching head. "There," she said, "Now go make me some breakfast would you dear? I know...you want to change out of that, but don't, okay? I want you to linger in it, get used to it, get a feel for constant femininity, feel safe in it. It gives me goose bumps and I want it to give you the same. Oh, and get that coffee going too. I'm gonna shower after I poop." 

She had a way with words that I treasured. What woman turns to you and says she's going to have a poop? She entered the water closet and closed the door, leaving me to decipher her instructions through the fog of hang over. How could this seem so casual and normal? But it did.

There were three empty wine bottles on the kitchen island. Funny...I had thought we only drank two. That would explain the headache I thought, and from Jen's perky look, I must have consumed the larger portion. Ow, ow, and ow, as each of my steps sent seismic events up my torso to my head. Coffee, yes, coffee. I adjusted my bra; as the underwire was causing a pressure point in the center of my chest. To be honest, I just wanted to take it off, but there was something that kept me from doing that. Was it Jenny's order, or was it something inside me that craved it? I didn't know; I just "did".

It was still dark outside but the birds were singing, a declaration that daylight was on its way. I stood in the kitchen nook watching the mountains slowly come into view as the sun rose behind me to the east. My nightwear felt heavy, smooth, and sexy, the satin hanging like weighted curtains from my shoulders and breasts. The Advil was starting to work. I was starting to think again. Then I realized if I could see out, others could see in, not that anyone would be out on the pathway this early, but you could never be sure, as people often walked their pets before going to work. I sat down to minimize my visibility.

How ordinary and extraordinary this seemed at the very same time. 

The coffee was ready, so I poured a cup, put a dash of 2% into it and took it to the bathroom for Jenny, putting it by the sink. I glanced at her foggy figure, feline in its grace in the glass shower stall and thought about showering with her, but the energy wasn't there, so I prepared her breakfast instead. It wasn't much, just Shreddies with raisin sprinkles for her. I put it on a place mat on the table in the nook, sitting there, solitary, awaiting milk and sugar, her touch.

Pouring myself a coffee, I went to the bouquet on the kitchen island, took out a rose, and placed it in a small vase which in turn was placed strategically in front of Jen's breakfast. I wanted her to know that I not only loved her, but I loved last night. The coffee went down hot and fresh, searing my headache like cauterizing a wound, ending the pain. The memories of last night flooded back now, the fear, the anger, the ecstasy and joy; the lust and passion with which we made love. It had never been this way before. There was honesty to it, an unbridled love with no baggage.

My headache was gone by the time Jenny did her grand entrance. It was always a grand entrance with her. Bands should have been playing, symphonies even; she was so beautiful. She was dressed conservatively as usual, a dark blue pencil skirt with a white blouse and dark blazer. Her hair swished past my face as she leaned over to kiss me, her hand brushing lightly over my bra where it fastened on my back, all so delightful and normal feeling.

"Thanks for the breakfast and coffee hon. Listen, I gotta run. No time to talk this morning. Just so you'll know though, last night was wonderful...more than that...fantastic actually. Bet you don't feel so great though; look at those wine bottles!" She looked at her watch, "Hey you better get a move on; you're gonna to be late for work." She was already gobbling her Shreddies as she shooed me to the bedroom to start moving.

I jumped, pulling out of my slow-as-molasses reverie, realizing that despite our adventure last night, the sun still came up this morning, and I still had a job, such as it was. I had to get moving. So I got up, kissed her on the forehead and started to walk to the bedroom.

Between mouthfuls of Shreddies, "I laid out something for you. Not much, but it'll have to do until we go shopping. If you don't like the color, get a different pair out of the drawer. See you tonight Jackie. Love you. Mmwa." She blew me a kiss.

I entered the bedroom and there on the bed was a pair of pink panties. That's all, one pair of panties, a small gesture with a huge impact. Curious as to what choices I had in colors I checked my underwear drawer, or what used to be my underwear drawer. It was filled with panties and other frilly things in all colors of the rainbow. Nice, but where was my regular stuff? I checked my other drawers...nothing. Then it dawned on me; that this WAS my underwear drawer. I went back to the kitchen to ask Jenny where my male underwear was but she was gone. Back in the bedroom again, I noticed that the waste basket was piled full of my jockey shorts. A post-it note on the top said, "Bye-bye". I sat on the bed and thought about this. This was definitely a turning point. Jenny certainly had made peace with herself regarding my cross dressing and not only that, she had clearly made a decision for me. I wasn't completely sure if I was angry or excited...but I left the waste basket alone.

Although my head still felt like it was enclosed in a pillow, for the most part my hangover was now retreating. The shower removed all the cobwebs in my brain, and I shaved carefully, trying to get as smooth a cut as possible. For the first time I hated my whiskers, for they represented something that in my mind made me ugly. Flash back to the man in drag in the mirror.

I looked at the clock. Oh God...6:35! I had to be at work at 7:30, and it was a one-hour commute to my warehouse. I quickly put on the panties. There was no time to be erotic; I just got dressed as Jen had told me to, pulled on my pants and shirt and left. No time to analyze.

That day at work was awkward. I kept forgetting that I had panties on and when I went to the urinal I had to stop and then retreat to one of the stalls so I could pee. To avoid the loud gurgle of peeing there standing up, I decided sitting down would be best. The paranoia of being caught plus the feminine requirement of sitting down proved to be extremely erotic as the day progressed.

Each morning that week, I chose another pair of panties; each night when I came home from work, I showered and Jenny laid out clothes for me, always a garter belt with hose, a bra, and a skirt with a blouse. The only makeup that she required was lipstick. She laughingly said I needed some sculpting before she tried full makeup again, whatever that meant. I wore the same night gown every night, with panties and a padded bra underneath and we embraced and kissed each other good night before going to sleep. There was no sex and it was seeming more and more normal to be dressed as a woman. It just felt and seemed right, and yes there were goose bumps.

Friday was date night for us, always was, always would be. Not that we always went out; we just did something special together, ordered a pizza or Chinese food, drank a bit too much wine, talked and laughed together, that sort of thing. Most of the time we didn't even have sex; it was way too comfortable for that.

This Friday night was clearly different and I was beginning to realize that the rest of my life was now going to be different as well. There was a sexual froth to the air, a zing in our ears as we sipped our wine and talked. The silicone breasts had arrived that afternoon and I was wearing them, squishy and heavy in my bra, bouncing when I walked. Even normal movements made them jiggle, and it was a strange experience, certainly not yet a familiarity. Jenny touched them when I sat down to eat, and I swear I could feel her contact as if it was directly on my own skin. I tingled and felt alive.

We were fumbling with chop sticks, talking about our week, how so-and-so spilled-hot-coffee-on-his-lap-and-how-funny-that-was-but-it-must-have-been-hot-and-his-wife-would-have-a-hot-one-that-night-ha-ha. We laughed a lot, and the words and sentences ran together as we just threw anything and everything out there for comment, just like a couple in love. I said, "Hey, we sound like a couple of girls giggling and laughing."

"Keep your cock on Jake; don't get too carried away. Just because you dress like a girl, doesn't mean you can act like a girl. Yet. You're still a man in drag; you've got a long way to go." Her green eyes sparked. "Hey, let's try out our tub tonight. We can light some candles and finish our wine there. Put The Bolero cd on. One thing might lead to another you know...wink, wink, nudge, nudge."

She was an enigma to me. I felt comfortable wearing female clothes with her, but I always felt a bit off balance, like she was maneuvering me like a puppet. It vaguely thrilled and intimidated me at the same time.

Yes, the double tub; we had always wanted a double soaker tub. I filled it up now and also lit candles, placing several around the tub and two more in front of the mirror at the sink. Jenny did a funny little erotic dance as she stripped and stepped in. I decided not to try and follow that act with a similar one, so I awkwardly pulled off my clothes and was briefly in wonder at my silicone breasts, because they had established some suction and stuck to my chest for a few moments before going "splush" in the tub.

Jen laughed and said, "We have to find some glue for those I guess."

If there was any tension in our bodies it disappeared now in the heat of the water and in the steam or fog of sexual awareness. I washed her body completely, pausing at certain destinations I had visited before, always with wonder as if I had never been there. She did the same for me. The wind was starting to blow in the trees; and then she stopped.

"Not so fast Jackie; we've got all night," she whispered, and then she surprised me by pushing my head under the water, my bum slipping frictionless. I came up gasping, coughing, and laughing, spitting out water.

She smiled playfully, "You just relax and drink your wine baby while I shave okay?"

I had never watched a woman shave before, not this way. There was an erotic gentleness and rhythm to it, and this, combined with the hypnotic repetitive crescendo of Ravel's Bolero permeating the air, put me in a trance. I sipped and watched, and she occasionally glanced at me, smiling.

Finally she stopped, sipped on her own wine, tilted her head and whispered, "Put your leg up on the side of the tub baby." There was a huskiness to her voice.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Just relax sweetie," she whispered as she lathered my leg and with expert strokes removed all the hair.

The Bolero kept building its daydream and I continued to watch, mesmerized and helpless. Dum-da-de-dum-da-de-dum-da-de-da, da-dum-da-de-da....the music continued...

"Other leg." 

I sipped my wine. Da-de-dum-da-de-da...

"Lift your arm." dum-da-de-da... 

"Now the other arm. Now stand up." Her instruction whispered through the steam.

I stood, very much aroused before her, she on her knees in the tub, and she lathered my chest and genitals. I grasped the handrail beside the tub and whispered out loud, "Is this really happening? Oh my God." 

Jenny looked up at me and smiled, "Yes it is honey. Yes it is."

I felt powerless for some reason and I let it happen. It was done. The Bolero finished with a wild blare of the horn section.

The water was full of floating hair as I looked down at my Jenny smiling up at me. She said, "This is the way I want you from now on. But you're going to have to do it yourself...every morning in the shower. No more body hair. I want you smooth. Now rinse off in the shower and come to bed."

Suddenly I came to my senses. "Jen, hold on a second; it's summer. I don't want to wear long pants and not go swimming, all that stuff. Shit! What the hell have I done?"

Jen had gotten out of the tub and was toweling herself off. She laughed. "Big deal! You think anyone notices your body hair, or your lack of it? Relax and enjoy the journey. I know I am. Now you're all prepared for tomorrow night, provided you shave again tomorrow morning."

"Why," I said, "What's going on tomorrow night?"

"Jillian and Doug are coming over for a barbeque. Hot day tomorrow, I'm told, not a good day for long pants I wouldn't think."

"What? Are you serious? Jen, that's not nice. I mean...I don't think I'm ready for that. That's gonna be very uncomfortable. You...you kinda seduced me here."

"Hmm, I didn't see you complaining, or did I miss something?"

"No," I whined, "but I just...I guess I just wanted this to be private, just between the two of us."

Jen shook her head slowly back and forth, "Too late for that already, don't you think? Listen, you really have to let go you know? I can't believe how much guilt and shame you have pent up inside you. I suppose that's partly my fault, but you have to relax and let go. To be totally free of the guilt and shame, you have to come out."

"Come out?"

"Yes, come out. Jillian's led Doug out of the closet and now controls his sex life. He doesn't tell anybody about his life, but he doesn't exactly hide it either. Did you know he had all his body hair removed?"

"Removed? You mean permanently? What? Really? I never noticed." I scratched my head in wonder that I wouldn't have seen that.

Jenny looked at me triumphantly. "I rest my case," she said, "It's time you got to really know him, ask him some questions, find out what it's like to be in a female led relationship, because that's where you are now Jackie. Now, when you get rinsed off, put these on and come to the vanity. Time to make you totally feminine for the evening."

I stood there with my mouth open, excited and afraid of where this was going, of where it already was, but more afraid of where all this had come from. I was burning bridges and so was she.

After rinsing and drying off I put on my bra with the silicone breast inserts. With my hair removed, they seemed to stick like they were part of me. I marveled at the smoothness of my skin, although my underarms were stinging a little bit from razor burn. Shaving had been an essential chore for me for many years now, but that was only my face; it was about to get worse, way worse. As I dressed I noticed that everything slipped and slid; the panties, the garter belt, the hose; they all glided over my skin, like silk on silk; until they were fixed in place of course; then there was only micro-slippage under the garments, just enough to make me constantly aware of the clothing I had on, the intimacy of it. I shivered in delight.

Despite Jen's failed efforts at trimming my eyebrows (I complained too much), she spent way more time on facial details tonight, with added details of lip liner, eye liner, better foundation, blush and shadow. When she was done she spun me around to face the mirror and it was like I was someone else, a female someone else, someone named Jackie.

"All the makeup is new, water resistant stuff, and it doesn't smear. You'll still look like this in the morning. Now for the crowning glory," Jen said, and she pulled a long auburn wig from behind her back, the same color as her own hair. There were no curls, but when placed on my head, the bangs covered my forehead and part of my eyebrows, and the tresses fell in waves over my shoulders. "Tah dah!" she said, victorious at her achievements.

I was transfixed. With or without a fantasy bias, I looked like a woman. Where the hell had all this been? And a crush of fear overcame me. "Jen?" I said.

"What?"

"Umm, are you sure you're okay with this? I mean...I look like a woman here for Christ's sake. I've never felt happier and excited, but let's face it; this is weird. Are you okay? I mean...are you really okay with this, or are you just trying to make me feel good? I just don't understand why a woman would want her man to look like a woman."

Jen looked at me and sighed. "Okay, we need more talk and wine I see. Let's take it slow and go out on the patio for awhile."

"It's still light Jen. Look at me."

"You can pass, believe me, you can pass. The wig clinches it. Relax."

I walked out on the patio with stealth, and pulled my chaise lounge chair back as tight to the house as I could and sat down, a glass of wine in one hand, the bottle in the other. I looked nervously about. There was a public paved pathway at the end of our property, 100 feet away, just before the escarpment plunged away to the river. To say I was nervous was a gross understatement.

Jen came out with her wine glass and smiled. "To quote a phrase, you look as nervous as a long-tailed tom cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Relax. If someone sees us, I talk, you smile and listen. Good practice for you."

I scrunched my brow and said, "Practice? What do you mean, practice? You think you're gonna get me to go public like this? No way." My heart was pounding. Jen had said SHE was scared and needed time the other night. Seemed like the roles had reversed here; I was lagging behind.

Jen just laughed. "Drink your wine and shut up stupid. Listen, just to put your mind at ease here, you don't seem to realize how much time, effort, and study I've put into understanding you and your fetishes. Truth is, you my dear are a very lucky man; I not only accept your cross dressing, I desire it. I'm not going to throw all that indecisive anguish I've had over the past few months away, just because you've suddenly got cold feet. I've had a major life change here, in case you didn't realize. I'm finally demanding what I want, not what society deems to be necessary for me. Like that para-glider over there, I've jumped off the cliff, and so have you. Learn to fly."

She became silent as we watched him swoop with the wind, perfectly in control, but nonetheless at the mercy of the wind. Much like us, I thought; Jen was assuming control, but the wind was taking us places we had never been.

She resumed, "I told you I had to be in control. That's the only way this can work. When Jillian told me I had to assume that control, I didn't believe her; it just didn't seem right that I should take control of someone else's life. But now I get it. It's powerful Jackie...this feeling I have when I tell you to dress certain ways. I can't really describe it, but now I see it and feel it. Now you have to make a decision: are you ready to let me take control, or do you want to go back the way it was? Because those are the only two options."




Something in the Water Ch. 04



The breeze lifted my skirt and I hastily put my hand down on it to stay modest. Jenny grinned slightly.

"Where are we...where are you taking me with this Jenny?"

She smiled and looked away saying, "Nothing is etched in stone yet; I just want us to evolve sexually, emotionally, and spiritually with our marriage. I'll tell you right now that I sincerely believe that you need to come out. Be who you are. See where that points to. I'll do the rest, and I'll take care of you. And I can tell you where this will NOT go. You will always have a penis; don't worry about that. Breasts, that's another question. Would I like you to have breast implants? Yes, I would, but I won't force that on you. I guess I want you to be a she-male, maybe a male lesbian."

"Jen, you can't force me to do anything."

"Oh Jackie, don't be silly. I can force you to do a whole lot of things, and you know it now, don't you?" She turned and looked into my eyes, "Don't you?"

My face was on fire with sweet domination and humiliation. I didn't answer, and in not answering, I answered. She had me, and she knew it. And I liked it.

"And one more thing," she added, "I had asked you before to call me ma'am when you were dressed like this. You're forgetting that." She waited expectantly.

I was hopelessly under her spell. "Yes ma'am." Then after a long pause, "But seriously, what could you do if I didn't obey you, or call you ma'am? I mean, come on. You gotta be realistic."

"Hmm, Jillian said it would come to this. She was right as usual. Let me ask you this. Do you like bondage and discipline? How about sadomasochism? I'm told and I've read that cross dressers like to be dominated. You told me that yourself. I might get into that; I just may need to. So, in answer to your question, the sky is the limit. How much would it take?"

She took a sip of wine and said in her best German accent, "There are ways to make you talk."

Despite my original concern, I laughed, choking slightly on the wine, and relaxed. She was treating this like fun, and I liked that.

"Okay," I said, "be in control then. Go ahead. Fill your boots."

"Aha! A watershed moment. You have given me consent to be your dominatrix. Das ist gud."

Horrible accent I thought, but we both laughed and started to chat about other things, the weather, the para-gliders, the people on the pathway. I had been only with Jen, my world with her, and I hadn't noticed the strollers glancing into our yard, at Jen, at me. They were but glances, and my life went on unchanged despite my visibility as a woman, an interesting epiphany. My first passing.

As the sun set over the mountains and the last drop of wine was consumed, a chill set upon us in the night. There would be frost by morning. Such was a sub-alpine climate in late August. My blouse was low cut, and my skirt hem was high, so I cuddled next to Jenny on her chaise lounge to stay warm. Our hands started to travel and explore the mutual silk and satin and lycra enclosed bodies. We kissed, tongues intertwining, breasts touching, pelvises thrusting against each other.

The sun was down and it was dark. The world was asleep but us. As on Tuesday night, my first night with her as a woman, we pushed aside our panties but I mounted her this time. Oh, that glorious wind in the trees that weren't there; we formed a rhythm slow and even, punctuated by my occasional deep slow thrusts. She would gasp then and come up to meet me, her hands pulling at my breasts. There was no rush, as there was absolute confidence in who we were, and the intensity of our trust and love for each other. If there were people on the pathway, we did not see them. If we screamed in our throes of lust, we did not hear it. All there was, was the wind in the trees, the trees that were not there.



Something in the Water Ch. 05



Saturday morning I awoke with apprehension. For the first time my fantasies and perversions were open to those beyond myself; Jillian and Doug would arrive at about 4:30 for a barbeque and lots of wine. Normally in the past this would have meant a good old fashioned blitz of fun, but things had changed; pissing on tree trunks with Doug in the forest would never be the same. I laughed lightly to myself at that thought, but it was true. Now that I knew that Doug was a cross dresser too, our relationship had to change. I wondered if he knew as much about me as I now knew about him, his body hair removal, his domination by Jillian. That was the crux of it all. What did he know?

Everything was unfamiliar this morning. My body hair was gone; my armpits, chest, and legs felt light and airy, smooth like satin, and yet there was already telltale bristle in places, so I stepped into the shower to shave. Very quickly I realized this was ridiculous; if I had to do this for the rest of my life, then most of my time would be spent in the shower. I thought of Doug and realized that was the way I had to go. I would have it removed by laser, electrolysis, whatever it took, as long as I didn't have to waste all this time in the shower day after day.

Jenny came in to shower and she laughed at my fussing, but when I expressed my decision on hair removal, she agreed and said she would make an appointment with a specialist for next week. My secret world was expanding rapidly.

At the breakfast table later I expressed my worry about having Jillian and Doug over that evening. Jen put her hand on my hand which held my coffee and said gently, "It's okay. You know they're good people. Friends are friends, right? False friends would run away. You know they won't."

I knew she was right, but what would I talk about with Doug now? Maybe the newest styles in blouses? Or the great favorite...shoes? Then I thought, why not for Christ's sake?

"Jen? Umm, am I, is Doug...you know, umm going to be dressed this evening?"

She laughed, "You just wear what you want today. If you want to dress up though I'll help you. Relax; this is just a re-acquaintance of old friends with new realities. That's all. Hot day coming though. You're going to have to wear shorts and expose your shaved legs."

"Yeah, I know. I've been thinking a lot about that. But you said Doug had his hair removed, so I think I can handle that. I'll wear shorts, but I won't dress up...except for the panties of course." I thought for a second, "How long did it take for Doug to have his hair removed?"

Jen got up to butter some toast that had just popped. "They pushed it pretty hard I think. I thought she said eight months, but you can ask him."

"Does she dominate him in every aspect of his life? I mean, umm, does she punish him for indiscretions? You know...spank him or tie him up, stuff like that?"

"Oh yeah, she's worked him pretty good at times. His thought processes have been altered big time. She's in total control."

"Isn't that kind of a waste? I mean, what about personal freedom to express and influence opinion? Is he seen but not heard? Does he have a life?"

Jen smiled sweetly while chewing on some toast and jam. Finally she said, "You have lots of questions, don't you? Look, the way I see it, they have a marriage, and a marriage is give and take on both sides, wouldn't you agree? Theirs is no different. I'm sure he expresses opinions on things, but she has the final say on all issues. And in sexual issues, there is no discussion; she does what she wants. It works for them, because that's what he wants too. He has to want it." She took a drink of coffee and then stared me in the eye, "Do you?"

Another question from her that I could not answer, and in my silence it was answered. I was in new territory, lifting my feet high, groping in the dark, trying to get a grip on things. Would I ever have that grip again? Did I ever really have it before?

It was 4:15. I had prepared the steaks, huge thick ones and had chilled the white wine for Jillian as I knew she favored that. I sat staring at the red wine in the decanter on the kitchen island and fretted. These were my friends coming to visit, but they were friends with secrets, only recently shared. I needed a drink, so I poured some wine for myself and went to the patio. Jen was on the computer surfing away, biding her time. I looked down at my legs, smooth as a baby's bottom, and as I shifted in my chair my hairless genitals slipped and slid in my satin panties. Suddenly I became aroused and wanted to put my bra and garter belt on, get fully en femme. Then I heard the doorbell ring. Inwardly I groaned, but I went to the door and greeted our two best friends in the world.

I had never gone to acting school, but it felt like I was in practice now, "Jillian! Doug! Come on in. Got the air conditioner on, wine on ice, heat on the patio."

I hugged Jillian and shook Doug's hairless hand with perfectly sculpted fingernails. Oh God.

I literally ran back to the kitchen island and got them each a glass of wine, filled one for Jen, and refilled mine. I held my glass up and said, "Here's to summer and friends. Cheers!"

The greetings over, the girls went off to the computer conspiratorially leaving Doug and me alone as we made our way to the patio. That's when it got weird. I looked at his face, his perfectly slim and arched eyebrows, clearly plucked (now that I was in the know), his hairless legs and arms. He glanced at my legs but said nothing, taking a rather large sip, no...gulp, of wine. He was nervous too, I realized.

"So," he said.

"So," I said. Clear throat.

"Should have booked a tee time for today at Priddis," he commented.

"Yeah, we should have I guess." I went back to the kitchen to get the decanter of wine. Back on the patio, I set the wine on the table and sat down.

"Look," we both said at the same time. We glanced at each other and laughed nervously.

"So, how does it feel to have to shave your legs," Doug asked.

I couldn't help it. I turned beet red and knocked back the glass of wine. "Feels weird," I said, "So, I understand you got rid of your body hair."

"Yeah, shaving was taking way too much time. Hey, I quit my job you know. As of August first. I'm a house husband now. Jillian wants me to be the housewife actually." He paused. "Let's cut the crap okay? These are the only male clothes I have left, since I quit my job."

He was wearing a pair of kaki shorts and a tee shirt that said, "I used to be schizophrenic, but now we're okay." His feet were bare and his toenails were as perfectly done as his fingernails. There were traces of red polish in the corner of one nail.

"I see." I was drinking too fast and I knew it, but it seemed necessary. "So, does she want you in the female role all the time now?"

"Yeah. I actually feel strange dressed like this. You wouldn't believe what she gets me to wear."

"When did it start?" I asked.

"The feminization? Oh, I guess it was about two years ago."

I made a mental note. I had two years or less as a male.

He said, "I bet you're wearing panties all the time now, right?"

"Yeah, she got rid of my other stuff."

"Hmm, that's the way it starts. You've got a long way to go. Enjoy the journey."

"Doug, umm, do you...have you enjoyed this?" I asked.

"Yes and no. Yes, this is what I want, but no when I think of all the negativity from "normal" people. That's the hardest part. The looks I get when I'm dressed as a male but I have no hair and my nails and eyebrows are done. That's the main reason I quit work; it was too much heat. From now on, it's full time female. Next time you see me, I'll be a woman." He looked down at his feet and seemed contemplative for a few moments. "I know you don't understand yet, if ever, but I am really, really happy, for the first time in my life. Jill understands what I need, and I now understand what she needs. It works."

"Jillian's coaching Jen," I said, "Should I be worried?"

"Depends on where she and you want this to go I guess. From listening to Jill, yeah, you should be worried. Jen in many ways is more of a control freak than my Jill. Won't be long before she's banging YOU in the ass. Does she want you to get breast implants too?"

"Wait," I said, "Back up a bit. Banging me in the ass? Are you serious?" I thought about that for a second, "Jesus, what does that feel like? How does it make you feel?" The wine had worked its magic. We were talking freely about things that normal guys would never talk about.

He looked off toward the mountains. The sun glistened off his hairless legs. "The first time was the hardest. She tied me up, so I couldn't move or resist. After the initial pain and humiliation was over, I had the most intense orgasm of my life. It strips away all definitions of masculinity and femininity. Once that prostate starts, it sends you to heights you never knew you had. I don't know why or how, but she likes it too. A lot."

"Are you gay?" I blurted out.

Doug looked at me and smiled, "No, not at all; I'm just sexual. Do I get turned on by a stunning looking woman? Yes. Do I get turned on by a man with a rough beard and rough hands screwing me in the ass? No, no, and no. Does Jill turn me on with everything she does and is? Yes. I used to get all screwed up trying to put things into neat little boxes, one labeled "gay", the other "straight". There's a third one. I call it "crooked". That's where I am, twisted beyond fucking belief."

We both burst out laughing and I said, "I'll drink to that you perverted bastard!"

Jen and Jill bounced out into the sunlight, both giggling. "Should we tell them?" Jen asked.

"Sure, why not?"

"We see you two are over the hump so to speak, and we're going to celebrate the last time you'll see each other as males. Doug knows it already. Jake, you just found out. We've been internet shopping for you girls just now. There's the coolest clothes on this femme site for trannies, and the bondage stuff. Ooo, I bet you can hardly wait." Jen was lit up from the wine and was positively bubbling.

"Well Jen, that's nice," I said, "but I still have a job you know, and life goes on."

The wives sat down in the sun. "Jackie, I don't want to upset you too much, but do you know how much money I make, now that the business has firmed up? I'm over $500,000 a year. What are you...$75,000, $85,000? I phoned your boss on Friday and told him to fuck off and that you were quitting. I think he wants to speak to you Monday morning."

There was silence. Then Jill blurted out, "You didn't! You really did that? You never told me. Oh my God! I never even mentioned that you should do that. Oh my God! You are something else!"

Then everyone looked at me. I'm sure I was ashen. $500,000 a year? I was quitting my job? Last time as a male? Too much information. Too much wine in too short a time. 

"Jen, no. Jen..., I...oh my God Jen. What the hell is going on here?" I felt compressed and my breathing felt shallow. All three of them were looking at me, knowing smiles on their faces. "What have you done? Jesus! This isn't a game you know. This is real life!" I chugged a glass of wine.

Jen looked at Jill and Doug and said softly, "Would you excuse us please?"

When they had left, she sat down beside me so the sun was streaming red through her auburn hair, "It's okay Jackie. I want this. You want this. I have it all planned out. Body hair gone in eight months, breasts before 12 months. You won't have to be afraid or worried again in your life. Your secret will be forever hidden in your panties. I'll take care of everything. That's the way I want it, and that's the way it's going to be."

I was drunk I think. I'm not sure. Everything was moving too fast.

"Do you want to get dressed up Jackie?"

"No way. Doug and Jillian are here for Christ's sake!"

"She's dressing him right now."

"What? Here? Now? Oh come ON!" I got up and paced the deck. "Jenny?" I said in exasperation.

Nonetheless I followed her into the bedroom. It was all a blur as I donned the bra with the squishy silicone inserts, garter belt and nylons, with a pencil stretch type skirt I hadn't seen before and a white lacy blouse which she buttoned up the back. For the first time she slipped three inch heels on my feet. The makeup and wig transformed me as I swayed in my seat. Was I drunk with the wine, or was it something else?

While refreshing my lipstick, I entered the living room and waited for the final change in my life. Others were about to see me as a woman, and I didn't really care. Take me or leave me, this was what I was. Fuck it. It would be a short talk with my boss on Monday morning.

Jill came out of the second bedroom and said triumphantly, "Please enter Elaine, formerly Doug. Taa daa!"

They had to have switched bodies, was my first thought. This could not be Doug. Then I realized that was true; this was Elaine. How they did it I don't know, but she had a skin tight stretchy dress with long sleeves and a full neck, which painted itself over a perfect hourglass figure. The makeup was flawless and so was the hair. It was femininity to the nth degree. Elaine walked flawlessly in five inch stilettos over to the stools at the kitchen bar and sat down, her leg swishing over the other as she sat down to drink some wine. She smiled.

I couldn't help it; I walked to her and gave her a hug, kissing her on the cheek, leaving a red smudge. It was a poignant moment, ending only when she said to me in deadpan, "Fuck off faggot."

It was too much. Never had I laughed as hard as that night. I will probably never laugh that hard again, but I will laugh often, and meaningfully, with friends who know me, who truly know me.



Epilogue:

I sit here now recalling all this, fifteen months later. I saw my boss that Monday morning, and indeed it was a short meeting. For fun I told him I was having a sex change and that I was quitting. He responded by calling me a fucking faggot and to get the fuck out of there, which was absolutely fine with me.

I had all the support I needed. Jen was fantastic, and always in control. Both Doug (I mean Elaine) and Jill were fine mentors, and the bondage items that the girls bought were well used over the months. I admit I have needed some "correction" periodically, and Jen was eager and able to set me straight.

The hair removal was a long and difficult road. It was often painful, but after nine months it was done. The face was the hardest. I will always have to return for treatments unless Jen decides that I should take female hormones, but that, if it happens, would be another story. Once I received my corset, there were endless weeks of corset training so that my waist is now comfortably at twenty-six inches (corseted). My hair has grown out and I get it styled once a month by Jen's stylist.

One week ago, I removed my post surgery breast implant compression vest for the last time, and everything is in the right place and perfect. I decided on the saline type, under the muscle. Jen decided the size. There is no more soreness, and my C-cup breasts are only slightly bruised now. Finally I can wear more lacy bras if I feel like it. I had thought I could go braless, but I'm told that with implants, that is not wise, and also, I notice that the bouncing hurts a bit. I need the support. It will take a long time to get used to looking down at my own heavy breasts, but I will. I don't have any idea what it will do to my golf game, but at least I can use the forward tees.

Keeping my fingernails this as long as they are now is a pain, but it sure finishes the sculpture. I pass without question now, and have a new passport so I can travel as a woman with the "three" other girls.

Would I do it all over again? Yes. It would have been a tragedy if I hadn't.

The hardest part? Purses. I still don't like them. It's like carrying a suitcase everywhere, but then again I guess I need it, with all the makeup and such. Why aren't women allowed to use their pockets anyway?