by Vickie Tern
Well, we left Donna's later than I thought we would. She seems quite cheerful. She doesn't miss Bruce at all, or so she says.
No, she doesn't. And he doesn't miss her. Oh, here's the intersection. Just a minute. There.
Why did you turn left here, Margo? I thought we were going home.
Have you forgotten? Oh dear, no, I forgot to tell you, Mel. A phone call just before we left the house. Well, maybe it's better as a surprise. I think you'll love it. I hope so, anyway. They want you for overnight, for tests and things. There's been a cancellation, and you're scheduled for first thing in the morning. So that's where we're going.
Oh. I see. That's a little sudden. I thought it couldn't be for maybe another month, maybe longer.
It'll be good to get it over with, sweetheart. So we can both get on with our lives.
I guess. But ....
Baby, no 'but'. There's no turning back. You know that. You've known it for a long time.
Yes. That's true. But it still seems like such a big step.
After all the little steps we've already taken? It's hardly anything! Honey, we've gone over and over it. There's no reason not to. Cheer up, you'll be well cared for, and all the girls have promised to visit you, and I'll be back from my convention in plenty of time to bring you home. And after that there'll be no need for us ever to be separated, not ever again. We'll go everywhere and do everything together, if that's what you want. That's what we've both wanted, isn't it?
We both once had that, Margo. From when we were first married right up until last year.
That wasn't the same thing, honey. This will be better.
For you maybe. For me I'm still not so sure.
Oh, for you certainly. You'll see. I'll see to it. Trust me on that.
I have to. Do I have a choice?
Not really, baby doll. Not any more. Not since all this began, though it's taken you all year to realize it. You know?
I guess, honey. Maybe.
I really am glad that you've finally accepted everything just the way it is. It'll be fine, don't worry at all about it.
I do worry.
Well, don't. We're still together, and as far as I can see we always will be. We're way better off than Donna.
I suppose so.
You know so. I was noticing tonight, you look far nicer than Donna too. I love that tan velour dress - so clingy, and with that deep neckline so risque, yet so seemimgly modest. I've always loved it. It must feel wonderful on, too.
Thank you. It does.
I might want to borrow it some time.
Any time you want it, honey, it's in the closet.
You know, compared to you Donna dresses like a tramp.
She does! I don't know why, she doesn't need to advertise. The whole town already knows she's available.
Ahhh, Mel honey, not to change the subject, but how did Donna strike you this evening? It's been months and months since you last saw her, hasn't it? I think the last time was before her divorce became final, late last Fall.
Yes. She seems OK. The usual Donna. The last time we visited she acted rather strange, at least toward me. Provocative and contemptuous, both. I didn't know what to make of it.
I remember. She thought you were still a man then, like her husband, and Bruce was really giving her a really hard time over the settlement. She was probably taking it out on you. One way women try to control men or get back at them is by being first alluring and then aloof. Get them stiff, then slap them down. She may have had you confused with Bruce. I did straighten her out about it afterward. I told her you were being altogether cooperative, but you were off limits and mine exclusively. She apologized. She said she was just being bitchy with all men these days.
She took her breakup with Bruce that hard?
You could say. You could call it that. She needed a lot of consolation when the final papers were being drawn up, mostly male. She still resents it though that Bruce wouldn't cooperate. I suppose I'd have felt the same way if you hadn't come through for me. Maybe I'd have behaved the same way. But you did come through for me. You darling!
I guess I did.
Oh, pooh, listen to you! We're so much better off compared with Donna. I'm so eternally grateful to you for going along with me. For everything. Even for tonight. Honey, I know you didn't want to come along, you don't really like Donna, she's had this bad influence on me you used to say, and I'd tell you you were wrong but you'd say it anyhow. But now? There's no reason to resent anything. She's my oldest friend, I've been telling her everything about you, she knows everything. She simply didn't believe it, she wanted finally to see you for herself. And tonight she couldn't stop marvelling. Even to you, you heard her. Because you've been so wonderful about everything, all the while her own husband has been such a shit. You have no idea how proud I am of you.
Thank you, sweetie.
You're always welcome. You know that. I'd kiss you if I weren't driving.
How long has it been now since Donna and Bruce split?
Nearly a year. He didn't take Donna's ultimatum at all the way you did. He raved and ranted around the house for a few weeks, and then one day he just upped and packed and left. Yes, it was exactly one year ago that Donna and I agreed on what we'd do, and she went home and put it to Bruce and I went home and put it to you, so you'd both know how things had to be from then on.
I remember. It was shocking. I mean, I was so utterly unprepared. I couldn't believe you were making so much out of so little. I mean, that was a terrible choice you offered me. I just stared out the window for hours, wondering how to deal with it. The daffodils were up and at peak back then in our garden, same as now. The forsythia too. The whole world was yellow, and our tulips starting to bud, just like now. Like every Spring. Only a year ago? It seems like so much longer.
I suppose for you especially it has been. You've gone through so much and changed so much, honey. Not Bruce, he chickened out, but you've been marvelous. It can't have been easy for you, I suppose, not any of it. Not at first, anyhow.
No. I mean when I first agreed I'd try it, and you brought out that little bra and thong panty set and told me to put them on, that I'd be wearing things like that from then on for the rest of my life, I thought I'd die.
Oh yes, that cute black lace A cup. I remember it. You looked so sexy, sweetheart, even though you had nothing to put in the bra, and your thong had nothing to reveal, your butt was so thin. Remember what your figure was like back then?
And then the next day you had me show myself in public for the first time, in a dress and wearing lipstick? Making sure all the neighbors knew, so I wouldn't feel ashamed and keep trying to hide it? I felt like such a fool! I must have looked like a clown.
A little. But that was your decision. I offered you the option to go to a beauty parlor first and get done up properly. But you had to learn for yourself that half-way measures are always worse than none. When Rosanne took you over, you became a doll. And you've been one ever since.
I felt terribly embarrassed. Just awful. Walking around the neighborhood with my face all lipsticked and the wind blowing my skirt. People chatting with each other and no one talking to me.
I'd warned you. Anyhow, you survived it. And since then you've become a marvelous artist of your own face. Miss Face is what Roseanne calls you. You may complain to me, but she says you confessed to her that you love femininity, the dressing up and making up and everything.
I guess I do, now. The clothes were kind of a challenge. Learning how to wear them, I mean. They all seemed so different, all those straps and snaps and zips and sleeves and necklines and cuts and colors, and different styles for each occasion. And I look so different in each - seductive, shy, brassy, matronly, whatever! The clothes I used to wear made me out the same man no matter what I wore.
That's true. Ours are a lot prettier. Girls like to be eye-catching.
Yes. Though they're a lot harder to put on. I was such a klutz at first. I remember I ruined two pairs of pantyhose before I figured out how women get that second leg in.
I'd forgotten that! You looked so funny, hopping around until finally they tore! I should have started you with thigh-high stockings and panties, so you could get accustomed to the feel, enough so you'd feel a little naked when you weren't wearing them. But once I got you those flirty miniskirts there was nothing for it. It was learn to wear pantyhose or else be arrested for indecent exposure.
I suppose. Bruce never did get that far with women's clothes, did he?
Bruce got nowhere, honey. Donna told him what had to be done that same night I told you, become a woman or the marriage ends. Same as I told you. Neither of you believed we were serious at first, even when we came at you with pots of make-up and insisted you sit still so we could see how you'd look properly done up. But there's the difference. You cared about me, about our marriage, so you were willing to try. You sat still. Bruce didn't care, apparently. Donna says she never got even that first swipe of lipstick onto his mouth. So their marriage is over.
Ours isn't, Margo? I wouldn't say this is what we had before last year, before all this started.
No, sweetheart. Our marriage is not over. Not at all! Different yes, and it will be from now on, I can't deny that. After tomorrow even moreso. But I told you that would happen right off.
I didn't believe you, Margo. Not right off. Not even after you paraded me up and down the neighborhood until I thought I'd die, so I'd agree to see Dr. Miller and Roseanne and not look so ridiculous. Not even when Dr. Miller started me on those pills and gave me all those shots. Ar first I thought it was just a game, that you were bluffing, that you were trying to scare me or something. I mean, when I broke down and finally told you I was willing to try, but only because you wanted it so badly, what happened? You led me straight into our bedroom, and our sex was never better! Incredible! We fucked our hearts out! I thought sex like that would matter so much to you that you'd never risk losing it, risk my not being able to perform it like that with you, I mean. But the next day along came those pills and shots, and ... well, that was the end of it.
That's true, you got pretty floppy almost at once. Your clit wouldn't poke into me any more. The poor thing. But we've had lots of other kinds of sex since, honey. More appropriate kinds, the kinds that women have with each other. Each one wonderful. Even though I can't lick your pussy the way you lick mine. Not yet.
Margo, it's all been so disproportionate, apart from being ... well, just plain weird. What you and Donna wanted. And why. It made no sense! I mean, there was nothing serious ever between me and Penny. Never! And you knew that! There was only that one terrible slip up, that one time only when Bruce and I were both drunk and celebrating that Calkins deal, and Penny saw her chance and rubbed herself up against us both, and ... ahhh....I still don't remember exactly! But just that one time!
She'd fucked Bruce before, Mel. Often.
Yes, but not me! Not before and not since! And I didn't know it then, about Bruce and Penny I mean!
Honey, Melissa baby, we've been over this and over this. How many times does it take? So you were unfaithful to me only once. But being unfaithful only once is like letting another man make you pregnant only once. And it wasn't only that. It was that you lied to me afterward. Penny asked you and Bruce for the raise in salary she expected for her ... favors, and you refused, so she made good on her threat and came to each of us and told us about that evening's ... entertainments. And you both denied that anything ever happened, because you didn't know she had videotapes of everything that happened and had already shown them to us. I confronted you and Donna confronted Bruce, and you each denied that anything happened. You compounded the betrayal! You lied to us! You even claimed Penny was lying, if I recall right.
She was! She told you I'd forced myself on her. But the tapes show clearly, plainly, I was blind drunk, I could barely walk. That she led me over to her bed and laid herself down and pulled me down on top of her and I just fell on her. I was barely conscious! I still don't remember anything about it! I wasn't lying to you, I honestly didn't know!
I know. I saw those tapes too, Melissa. The fact remains, she stroked you and you got hard enough to enter her, and then she pushed herself onto you and pumped you until you pushed back and came into her. What else does it take for me to decide that you were unfaithful to me?
I never knew it. You saw. I just rolled over and fell asleep after that, and Bruce climbed on her and ... well, he must have banged her for a half-hour or more. He had to wake me up to drive me home, you saw that too.
It doesn't matter. The facts remain. You and Bruce fucked an available secretary from the secretarial pool and she made good her threat if she didn't get a raise, and you both denied that any of it had ever happened, and she proved that it did. End of discussion. Donna and I talked it over like in the old days, when we used to talk about our boyfriends. And we agreed, that was that, our marriages were over. Because if it could happen once it would happen over and over in the future. We could never trust our husbands ever again. Unless....
Yes. Unless. Whose bright idea was that?
Mine, actually. There was this boy I knew in school, Marty Sloane. Freshman year Marty was a boy named Martin, and then over the summer he turned eighteen and when he came back sophomore year he was a girl named Martha. I dated him once when he was a boy, and there was nothing gay or girlish about him, believe me. But the next year he was dating only boys, and the boys weren't hesitating with him, because he had all the right equipment and he was so eager to use it. He put out with anyone, making up for lost time I suppose. I tried dating him again that year just out of curiosity, but he wasn't in the least interested in girls any more. Except as friends, of course.
And that's what gave you two the idea for Bruce and me? So we'd lose our interest in girls?
Except as friends. Marty took up with a pretty fast crowd, girls who'd hold contests to see who could seduce this football star or that professor. It wasn't till we took a Phys Ed class together Junior year that I saw for myself why the boys all flocked to him. I mean, he was all the girl anyone would ever want! He was gorgeous! Huge, beautiful breasts and the cutest little cunny. Of course it was a terrible waste for him not to use them!
And that's what you wanted for me?
And what I've mostly got. Oh, honey, you already have the breasts, and they're just gorgeous, you know how attractive they are, even to me. And your butt is heart-stopping beautiful! Can you blame me for wanting you to have it all? I still love you!
I want for you whatever's needed to keep our marriage safe. Better safe than sorry, you know that! Baby, we've talked about this for a year now. You'll do it! You'll love it! You've loved all the rest of it, so far!
Some of it, Margo. Not all of it. A lot of it I just don't know. But every time we've talked it's been the same, repeated over and over. I say I'm not sure, and you say you are, I should trust you, and I hesitate, and then you commit me to something else so there's no going back.
What would you have me do, honey? Tolerate all that shilly-shallying? It's very simple, either you do or you don't. Either you are or you aren't. This whole year you've tried my patience repeatedly. There's been nothing but indecision on your part! From the beginning, I've had to make the decisions for both of us!
Yes. But after I finally did agree to try things your way, just try it, no commitments, just pretend to be a girl and see how it feels, just for a day or two, no more than that, what happened? You took me to your gynecologist friend Dr. Miller and she filled me full of pills and long-term hormone implants, and then before I could turn around you took me to Roseanne's and she changed my appearance so radically that I was committed to look like a girl, 'a darling girl' is what you both called me, for months to come. Both inside and out.
Honey, I had to get you committed! It's no good playing at being a woman! And Roseanne's is the best salon in the city! I had to use all sorts of pull to get you an appointment on next to no notice - I called around to everyone! You remember, that first time you needed everything! Waxing, styling, nails, your first perm, coloring, highlights, piercing, a complete makeover. And you've got to agree, Roseanne's beauticians do marvelous work! Why else would you still be going back to them every few weeks! Looking forward to their pampering, I've seen your expression when you've picked up your purse and headed out for your appointment. Even that first time they performed miracles.
Margo, I'd only told you I was willing to try. I thought that when you calmed down and we could both rethink things, talk about them sensibly, we'd reach more rational decisions.
Yes, I knew that's what you thought. That's why I did what I did.
It wasn't very fair of you.
Maybe not. But Dr. Miller and Roseanne did nothing I didn't tell you they'd do. I suppose it was the cumulative effect that shocked you. I remember. It was so funny! Five hours later you looked into the mirror and there was no trace of Melvin anywhere, only Melissa, a drop-dead gorgeous beauty, and you nearly did drop dead. Practically fainted.
That's what I mean. Because there was no way I could undo any of it. Not without shaving my head bald and getting a dermabrasion on my face to remove that "everlasting" make-up she used. I mean, I couldn't go to work as Melvin any more, only a curly-headed, rosy-cheeked, dark-eyed, red-lipped Melissa, who'd then somehow have to explain how come Melvin had become Melissa. Explain that my wife wanted to keep me away from all other women, and that's how come. I mean, even on the face of it ....
Maybe you didn't know, baby, I made it easy for you. I called your boss before you arrived and told him it was because you've always felt inside that you were Melissa. And that activiated the State's anti-discrimination laws, because transgenders are fully protected. So no one mocked you when you got there, did they?
No one. I wondered why. The girls complimented me on my new hairdo, and one of the bookkeepers told me she loved that Hermes scarf you loaned me. It wasn't a problem at all. And it hasn't been. But did you have to tell Roseanne to go all out? Commit me to looking female for months and months when I'd barely agreed to try it at all, and then for only a short time?
Would you rather I'd asked Roseanne to go only half way? Would you rather have turned up at the office looking effeminate, looking like a man who'd spent the weekend dressed as a girl and hadn't quite gotten over it, neither a man nor a woman but a self-deluded sissy? Think of the jokes they'd be making at your expense if you'd done that! All the guys contemptuous because you were betraying your manhood, and all the girls mocking you because they think you're mocking them. Everyone smirking. And rightly so.
There was plenty of both anyhow.
But not to your face. And not from anyone in your firm who matters. I mean, here it is a year later, and you've been promoted twice, and everyone respects both you and your work. Law or no law, decent people respect other decent people who seem to know what they are, who make clear sex and gender choices. It's the wishy-washy in betweens that become the butt of jokes. You were spared all that. People saw Mel on Friday and Melissa on Monday, and at first they were were shocked into silence - she was so unexpected. And so stunning. You still do reduce people to silence when you're dolled up, you know?.
I think they're embarrassed for me.
No, they don't know you weren't born that way. It's that truly beautiful women are rare. And you're truly beautiful now. Your face was always wasted on a man. I told you that long before I married you. I've always wanted to play dressup with you, to see how you'd come out. And during this past year I've had my chance.
Say thank you, Melissa. You've just been extravagantly complimented.
There were repercussions. Maybe you remember that Bruce was out of town on a buying trip all that week, so he didn't see what had happened to you until the following weekend, when I took you to Donna's house so I could show you off. He just flipped out. The next day they quit arguing about it and he packed and left the house. And you remember, he got himself a job in Cleveland two weeks later. And gave Donna everything in an uncontested divorce by decree. Do you ever hear from him any more?
It's funny, in a way. I think maybe I threaten his masculinity. Or maybe he's attracted to me and he thinks it's perverse. I saw him a month or so ago at a trade show, and he saw me, and then when I looked him up soon after at his hotel just to talk over old times, I found he'd checked out. He couldn't handle it.
His firm does business with mine, I've kept in touch. He still can't handle his need to get his hands and his pecker into the panties of every good looking woman he's ever seen. But I suppose not when he knows that the woman was once a man. Now that's perverse, I think, worrying about who was once something else. Donna's better off without him.
He was terrific at negotiating contracts when we were working together, I'll say that for him. Talk about cunning? That Calkins deal was brilliant. The man doing his job now isn't nearly as good.
Melissa, he told Donna that the Calkins deal was a month old when he invited you and Penny to celebrate it together. Bruce was just fucking you over, is all. So he could get at me. Among other reasons. I knew it even at the time.
I told you. Donna's my best friend. We tell each other everything.
You never told me.
I tell you what's good for us as I see it, when I see it. Well, look where we are now!
Oh my! Where indeed? I haven't been in this part of town recently. What are those lights?
A mall. A kind of night town mall. Open all night. No one ever took you here?
Well, I've been. No stores at all. Just bars and places to dance and restaurants and a few theaters. And a motel. An entertainment center for singles and swingers, I suppose you could call it. There's what they call a health club for tanning and massage, crammed with luscious girls and muscular guys, all very solicitous about your body. I've looked in. A unisex brothel. But who'd use it I can't imagine - there are always plenty of available men and women strolling around the mall, looking each other over. No man ever leaves empty handed, and no woman empty anywhere. You may want to try your luck here when you're finally fully functional.
Is it safe? For a lone woman, I mean?
Ask Donna, she's comes here often enough. I've been only a few times, it seems safe enough. A girl's safety isn't so much a matter of what happens while you're here, it's more who you leave with. Donna's had some bad experiences, but she doesn't seem to mind.
Margo, I've noticed that about Donna. I can't say she spent a lot of time mourning the end of her marriage. I mean, for months now I've been going to lunches and exhibitions and galleries and shops and so on with that group of your girlfriends you introduced me to, lovely people, women who know both of you, and while there's little said about you and it's all affectionate, I've often heard a lot of gossip about Donna and her various men.
That's Donna! She sees various men. Just like Bruce and various women. Honey, girls talk! I can't shield you from it. I'm glad you enjoy their company. Because how else can you learn how to be a girl except by being one, joining in all the gossip and giggling and good sense too?
I like them. I enjoy being with them. They're always complimenting me for something, my suit, or blouse, or a necklace. Always something. And then I feel good about myself. So I do the same, and we all just glow at each other!
Yes. They tell me you're so sweet that you fit right in with them almost immediately, that now none of them think of you as anything other than one of them. They don't ever bother remembering you're still my husband. Just the other day Meredith was chatting with me and she mentioned a time "when you were still married," that was what she said, those exact words, as if I wasn't married any longer. You were there, you heard her, you remember? I reminded her that I was still married and that my husband was sitting right next to her. She just looked at you and giggled. I remember that distinctly.
So do I. I didn't know how to take it.
Where did you two go off afterward?
Shopping. She had a date with some guy she wanted to get into bed, and since you'd reminded her that I'm a former guy, she wanted my opinion about which negligees were more likely to get him breathing hard, and also hard elsewhere where it mattered. She spent hours modelling some very alluring items. I began trying things on too, and ended up buying a few very pretty things. A whole set of thongs, for example. In all sorts of colors. You've been encouraging me to show myself off more, so I figured why not?
I'm glad. You do have gorgeous buns now, baby, so why not indeed? Toss all your panties. Sooner or later you'll want to show off that ass of yours to some man, and a thong leaves nothing to the imagination. It gets them hard and keeps them hard. But how did you suddenly become an authority on erections? It's been some time, hasn't it? Didn't that ability disappear even before the rest of your manhood?
Oh, I still get excited, Margo. I even still remember what it was like to get off by poking into you instead of the way have to do it now, by asking you to find me some gay guy who's willing to nibble and tongue and suck on a soft penis until I get to feeling tense and finally the thing leaks into his mouth.
It isn't only gays, sweetie. I still enjoy nibbling on you now and then, don't forget that. Your thing is like a clit now, after all, and I want you to like it when your clit is licked. Anyway, it isn't as if you don't get poked yourself these days. All sorts of men have used you the way I do with my dildo. And you've told me how good they feel.
True enough. Lots. But mostly they cum too soon, before I do, and then they get soft, so I never do get off that way. Mainly I let them fuck me as a way to thank them for a lovely evening, if I've had one.
Well, that's what it is to be a woman, honey. Men can be so selfish sometimes, so concerned with their own pleasures. Welcome to the sisterhood. But by this time tomorrow you'll have no more such problems unless you want them. And by this time next month you'll have been fucked in as many places as the rest of us, and you'll probably be getting the same satisfactions too. Dr. Miller is very good, and she does say you're a near-perfect candidate. She's the one who suggested we castrate you a few months ago, get your hormones right, and she says that your empty ball sac is now perfect for constructing your outer labia. So it'll all be a single operation instead of one big one and then a follow up.
I'll still be able to feel, won't I? I do want at least to feel what you feel.
I've told you, your penis won't be removed, it'll only be turned inside out. All the nerves will be left just where they are. What's different will be that you'll feel your orgasms through your whole pelvis, even in your breasts, like a woman, not just in your cock. And you'll have as many of them as you want because they won't depend on having something to squirt. When a man gets into your new vagina, sweetheart, if he's a considerate man you'll find yourself in paradise. And if he's a hard-drivin' man you'll love it even more.
You know, Margo, I don't understand. You did this to me - I mean, you made me consent to live like this, persuaded me I mean - because Penny once used me and then tried to blackmail me. But now you don't mind my getting fucked by other men, gay or straight. You don't mind that kind of infidelity?
No, dear. The infidelity that started all this was sex with another woman, not with another man. I can easily understand wanting to have sex with other men. I often want that myself.
Yes, but I told you, I wasn't conscious when ....
And we'll soon both be having sex with other men in abundance, so I'll scarcely have good grounds to complain about yours. That's one reason why I've been so impatient, waiting for you to complete this past year of living and working as a woman and getting all your hormones in order, and filling out your figure, and persuading those two psychiatrists you've been seeing that you really are an eager candidate. Fulfilling all those RLTs and HRTs and dysphoria certifications the surgeons insist on before they'll give you a vagina too, so we can be equals in every respect. So we can each be married women who enjoy sex with men in exactly the same ways. So there can be no complaints either way.
I see. Is that what you intend? You never mentioned it before.
You never noticed? You didn't hear me complain when you began going out with Jim, or Earl, or Kevin, or that hairdresser you met at Roseanne's, did you? Those gay men you've been dating? No, just the reverse, I wanted you to enjoy yourself with them! You know that! That's why I went to all that trouble to find them and introduce them to you and help you get ready for your dates with them, and why I always asked you afterward how things went, and why we hugged each other and giggled and exulted when you told me everything they did, and you did with them, why we felt so good for each other afterward. I'm looking forward to lots more such sessions like that with you, when all the straight men in the world are also available to you as partners because at last you've got all the proper places to put them. It'll happen a lot more often. That's when I'll tell you everything about me too.
You haven't told me anything. Not even hinted, until now. I know you go out sometimes when I'm out, but you've never told me where you go or with whom. Nor what you do when you're with other men.
You see? Even now! No, I'm not with 'other' men, honey. With men, yes. I don't say anything because I don't want to upset you, that's all. Face it, sweetheart, you're a woman now, not a man. More than most! You've been a woman ever since I cut you off from any chance you'd ever be anything else. You've never fully accepted that this is for life, that you need to settle in and accept what you are and try to be all the woman you can be, because that's all you ever will be. And here you are still thinking about me as if you were a man. Worrying about 'other' men.
Honey, it gets oppressive. I know you feel miserable every time you hear me flirting with men on the phone even though you do it too these days. It makes me so unhappy you feel that way that now I only talk to them where you can't hear, so you won't ever know. You keep thinking that somehow you'll get back to being a man when I change my mind about wanting to live with you as a woman. But I'm never going to change my mind. And you'll never get back. Even when those hormones shriveled your testicles and they had to be removed, even then you kept thinking there's a road back. But there isn't.
Margo, don't you ever want to be married to a man again?
Oh, honey, ever is such a long time from now. Donna and I did agree fairly early that getting married was probably a mistake for both of us. But we do believe that marriage is for life, that you make your commitments and you stand by them. I do, anyhow. And I know Donna would have stayed married to Bruce despite his tomcatting if he'd been willing to do what you've done. Instead he ran off.
Margo, you never told me it was a mistake. That you regret our marriage.
I suppose I didn't. I loved you, I still do, I still don't want you ever to feel unhappy. I suppose what I regret isn't that I'm married to you. I love being married to you. The security of it, the serenity, the tranquillity of sleeping alongside someone you feel so tender about. Its so lovely, so utterly relaxing, my darling. No, what I found I missed was everything else. The tantalizing excitement, the thrill of anticipation in your belly when you're getting ready for a date with some new man, wondering what it'll be like this time, how provocative you'll feel when you get really close to him, when he leans over you, what will come into your hand when you reach into his pants. I wanted that again. But I didn't want to be unfaithful to you.
You didn't want to be unfaithful to me, Margo? Do I hear you right?.
You heard me, Melissa. I didn't. And I wasn't. Not until you were.
Then, yes, I was. Now and then, I suppose. But I always saw to it that you had partners too. And you certainly know now that it isn't necessary for us ever to end our marriage. All that's needed is for you to stop thinking and acting like a man. To stop trying to be a husband. To become a woman who lives with another woman in a companionable marriage. That's what we have and always will have, I hope. Companionable. It's so much nicer than the other kind.
I see. With 'the other kind' your husband got in your way?
Honey, it was never your fault. Not my husband but his misplaced testicles got in my way. They kept giving him all sorts of wrong ideas about where he and I were with each other and what we each needed. I had to get rid of them. So I saw to it that they were zapped with hormones. You swallowed each and every pill, suspecting that would happen. Didn't you?
Yes. I thought ....
Then when you started being my girlfriend your balls were too intrusive physically too. Don't you remember that resort we went to after we finally had them removed? How your tight pants and bikinis finally fit perfectly, how attractive your crotch was? How men were swarming all around you? How you showed off your new smooth mound along with the marvelous cleavage you'd developed by then? Oh, my! You know, you were meant to have a figure like that, honey. Think of it, your breasts went from nothing to a C cup in only six months. And look at the size of your nipples! And their sensitivity! A few hormones, and presto, a new woman is born full blown!
I remember that resort. They were all singles. I thought when we arrived there you were telling me something about us, that now that I lacked balls we were no longer married. That we were like all the other women there, each on our own.
We always will be married, but in a way, we weren't any longer, you're right there. And it did you good to be on your own. That was where you had your first special experience with a man, wasn't it? Where you finally sucked your first cock? Whose was it again, that blonde guy Dennis?
Yes. It was Dennis. Dennis's cock.
I never asked you about it, honey. Why Dennis? Was he that handsome? Was it that well-shaped? You couldn't resist?
Margo, I couldn't not suck it!
You felt that passionate about a cock? Sweetheart, how wonderful for you!
No, I mean after spending all last year dieting I found that Dennis was twice my weight and size! He was built like a bull! You went off with that Steve somebody, I forget why, to look at something or other, and you blithely told me to stay out of trouble, and you winked at me and actually left the two of us alone! In our own hotel room, so I had nowhere to go to get away from him! I had to do something! He was all over me, feeling my breasts and trying to suck on them, and doing it, too.
And at that moment, weren't you glad you had them? And that Steve and I were somewhere else?
I was, I can't deny it. But he was reaching toward my penis, what's left of it, and he was trying to push his finger into my pussy. And he couldn't find it, because I don't have a pussy! I was so afraid of what he'd do to me when he found that out!
I tried to deflect him toward my ass the way you told me I should when it first plumped out and men began to notice it, when you got me those tight stretch skirts and pants and prepared me with your strap-on. But he wasn't interested. So luckily I thought of going down on him. And just in time. I had to bring him off twice before he quit reaching for my crotch.
Oh, my poor baby! You gave your first head, and you never told me you felt threatened! It wasn't good for you?
No, it wasn't. My jaw ached - his cock was huge, built like the rest of him. And God, the cum in his balls? I nearly got sick swallowing it. The second time he sent out as much as the first. I thought he'd never quit spurting the stuff. I was sick to my stomach all the next day. And the whole time you were somewhere else with Steve.
"Now I do feel terrible, honey. My dearest girl needed me and I wasn't there for her! Can you forgive me?
Margo, I did forgive you. What else could I do? I needed you.
It hasn't been that bad since then, has it? I mean, sucking cock hasn't made you sick since then, has it, honey? That would be terrible, if it did. I mean, taking men in your mouth, making them moan, bringing them off, that's one of life's great pleasures for a girl. You've never mentioned that you don't like it.
No. It's just that Dennis's cock was my first, that's all.
What does that mean?
I got used to it, Margo. One cock is very much like another. I like sucking on them now.
But you didn't enjoy it right off?
Sometimes. Sometimes I enjoy it a lot. It depends on the man.
Honey, I don't mean to pry, but you've always given me the impression that you loved it from the outset, that you can't ever get enough of it, and I've never thought otherwise until now. So now I'm feeling a little guilty. Because I did deliberately set you up with Dennis that time. I met his friend Steve in the bar, and he asked me who the chick was I was with, and I ... I invited the two of them up to our room for a drink because I thought you might like to feel how it is to be a chick and have men come on to you and all over you. That's all I intended.
I've sucked lots of cocks since then, Margo. It's no big deal any more, don't worry about it. You don't give head yourself? From what you've said ....
If it's reciprocal, if the man is licking my pussy at the same time, yes, certainly. I won't go down on my knees to any man, the way you do. But .... Well, that won't be a problem for you any longer, sweetie. You'll soon have lots of options, sixty-nining the best of them. And here we are at last. I'd better leave you here at the main entrance, and then I'll head on home - I have a long drive ahead of me tomorrow. You're on Dr. Miller's list, just give the hospital receptionist your name and they'll take care of the rest.
Margo, I ....
There's no turning back, honey. And no standing still now either. Sooner or later some heavyweight Dennis won't settle for just a blow job and will feel his way down into a disaster. We both know it. Do it. That's final.
Yes. All right. I can see that. What name should I use?
Melissa of course. Because that's who you are. One of my friends is a lawyer - by the time they discharge you, a complete woman at last, you'll have a court order changing your birth certificate, driver's license, bank accounts, school records, social security records, everything except our marriage license. That we won't change because it would invalidate our marriage, and I want to stay married to you forever and ever. Because I love you, my darling Melissa, now more than ever, especially for doing this for me, for believing in me. I do love you!
I love you too, Margot. But I can't help .... Are you sure ...?
Mel, honey, just get out of the car. There's nothing more to say or decide - it's done. The moment you swallowed the first of Dr. Miller's pills, the moment you sat down in Rosanne's chair, that's when you stopped being a man. You just didn't know it. All the rest has been learning how to be a woman and accepting it. This is the end of your journey. So don't loiter here with me. Walk into the hospital and grasp your new womanhood with both hands! It's all been arranged. It's yours. You've earned it! You know I'm right. That's it. Out you go. But first one last kiss. Mmmmm, lovely. Now, what's wrong? Forgot something?
That bag on the back seat? That's supposed to be for me?
Oh, yes, I forgot! It's a few things you'll need, toothbrush, make-up, a pretty nightgown for receiving visitors, you know. Oh, of course, one more last thing too, honey. I'm told the night receptionist is someone you know. Don't be too surprised when you see her.
It's an incredible coincidence. But when she saw your name on the list for admission tonight, she called me to ask if it would be all right, you wouldn't be too upset when you saw her. I told her you were a big girl now and not to worry about it.
The one woman in the world more responsible for your being here than any other, except maybe me. The one who helped me set you up.
Margo, not ....
Penny! Margo, for God's sake. She's the one who ruined our marriage, or tried to. She's the one who .... you set me up with her? Bruce and me?
Yes. It wasn't all her fault. Not really. I guess you should hear the rest of the story now.
I haven't heard enough? She date-raped me and tried to blackmail me and Bruce too and then lied about it to you and Donna!
No, dear. Just to you.
But ... but why?
It's quite simple. I've already told you. Donna and I love our marriages, I certainly do, but we also love the fun of dating other men. We wondered how you two would feel about it, and we guessed that neither of you would be willing to go along. And I guess we were right. Bruce was never faithful, but he wouldn't extend the same privilege to Donna. And you believe absolutely in fidelity - you needed to be turned inside out before you'd be willing to allow me a few outside adventures, or anyhow, you'd need to be made helpless to stop it. That took a little maneuvering. And tomorrow it'll take a little surgery. Then it's done. And all's fair, then we can then both of us be as unfaithful as we wish, and we can each tell the other all about it.
How ...? What ...?
Oh, sweetheart, you look so astonished! I meant to tell you when I got back from my convention and you got out of here a complete woman, fully ready for the rest of your life. But now's probably just as well. It wasn't really difficult, baby doll. I mean, when Donna and I decided we wanted to ... ahhh ... open our marriages to other men, Bruce was already fucking Penny on weekends. So Donna threatened to divorce him unless he set you up with Penny in a compromising way. No problem. Bruce got you drunk, using that old Calkins deal as an excuse, that's what there is about Bruce - ask him to do something, he gets it done. When you sobered up, you poor darling, you heard me inform you that I couldn't trust you ever again unless you became a woman. And you bought that argument! Well, sort of. Enough of it for me to get you accustomed to the rest.
You tricked me?
Penny helped, of course. Then all on her own she tried to get herself a promotion by blackmailing both of you, threatening to tell the very wives who'd set the whole thing up with her. Bruce didn't like that, and he'd finished his affair with her anyhow, so he got her fired. So she came to us and threatened to tell you that the whole thing really had been a set-up. I don't know what you'd have done with that information, maybe divorced me, more likely felt bewildered and hurt and done nothing. But Donna and I agreed that Bruce had been unfair, that Penny didn't deserve to be fired for showing a little initiative when she tried to blackmail the two of you. So we pulled our own strings and got her this job with the hospital. After all, we owed her. Then Donna tried to get Bruce to do what you were already doing, start becoming a woman, on threat of a divorce because of his previous affair with Penny - she now had all the videotapes after all. He wouldn't, so she did divorce him. And here you are, and there's Penny.
And that's how I became a woman?
You made all the key decisions yourself, baby. It's all been by informed consent. And it isn't too bad, is it, sweetheart? Half the world are women all their lives. You don't feel cheated, do you? I've tried to make it as wonderful as possible for you. That's why I introduced you to Jim and Earl and Kevin, all the handsome gay men I know, and also to my favorite girlfriends, and all of them are now your girlfriends too. And you yourself turned out to be so beautiful! You do enjoy looking at yourself, doing your hair and make-up and so on, choosing your outfits, I know that, I've seen you at the mirror. You love being a girl, now that you're a girl. Can you deny it?
No. But I ....
Sweetie, we're way past all points of no return. There's no reason to object to any of it, or resent any of it, is there? I was a little tricky with you, I know that, and I'm sorry about it and I'll never do it again. But it was all for love, all because I wanted it all but I didn't want to lose you. And I haven't.
Let me understand this, Margo. Clear and plain. All this has been so we can stay married while you date other men? Is that what you're saying?
Oh, sweetie, don't look so fretful! I haven't dated 'other' men as you call them. Not yet! Not many, only a few, maybe a half dozen tops. Nowhere near the number you've dated already! And when they discharge you from here completely cured, no more residual manhood, we'll double date all the time, that's a promise. Now give us a kiss, and we'll both be on our way. Oh, don't be a frump. Here, pucker up and I'll lean out the window.
Oh, Margo! Oh! If I .... Oh!
Don't you know it? Mmmmm, that's so much better! I do love you, sweetheart! I really and truly do. Now, take good care of yourself. If you need me any time during the next two weeks, I'll be staying at Bruce's, this convention's in Cleveland, did I mention that before? I am so looking forward to it! He's no longer Donna's, but he's still a man, and unlike you he's never doubted it, and no one will ever talk him into thinking he'll ever be anything else. He's all man, just incredible! You remember, you saw him screwing Penny for a half-hour after she'd screwed you? Well, honey, you missed most of it, that was only the last half-hour. He's really is something! I may not be able to get out of bed the whole two weeks I'll be with him! Or afterward either. I may not want to.
Margo, what have you ...!
Don't look so strange, sweetie, you'll get your turn at him, I promise you. It's funny, in a sense he's already been screwing you, all year long. We all have been, one way or another. No one will ever be so thoroughly fucked! But for all that, you're the beneficiary. In two weeks you'll emerge from here transformed, a complete woman! And if there's anything in the world better than that, you tell me what it is!
Bye now. Say 'hi' to Penny for me.
© 2004 by Vickie Tern
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