My name is Mary Walsh and I've been told I'm a very good-looking woman, dressed for the pa

Mary Walsh's Own Story

By Constance Grant (ConnieBabe69@hotmail.com)

The necessary stuff:

This story may be posted on any site where the end user is not directly charged without my explicit permission. All other use must be individually negotiated with the author. I would appreciate being notified by the web master or mistress when this story is posted. Constance Grant, e-mail is

ConnieBabe69@hotmail.com

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious, and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

I WOULD RATE THIS STORY AS 'R,' LOVING SEX BETWEEN A MAN AND A WOMAN IS DESCRIBED, CROSS DRESSING OF MEN AND WOMAN IS DESCRIBED, A BRUTAL INCIDENT OF FORCED FEMINIZATION OF A MAN IS DISCUSSED, AND THE SEXUAL SLAVERY OF TWO GIRLS IS DISCUSSED. IF ANY OF THE PRECEDING, ARE SUBJECTS YOU WOULD RATHER NOT CONSIDER, OR FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE READING ABOUT, OR IF YOU FIND THEM MORALLY REPREHENSIBLE, OR IF YOU ARE UNDER EIGHTEEN -

- DO NOT READ THIS STORY!

While writing this story, I had in mind as story by Christine posted on Fictionmania on 5/9/1999. This story may be thought of as an alternate outcome of "Forced To Be A Girl, parts I & II, and many other stories of its ilk - an outcome much more to my liking.

It would also be correct to consider this story a parody like conclusion of all such stories, rather than any one.

The Fun Stuff:

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Mary Walsh's Own Story

By Constance Grant (ConnieBabe69@hotmail.com)

My name is Mary Walsh and I've often been told I'm a very good-looking woman, when dressed for the part, guys looks say I'm downright sexy. I can't provide an objective evaluation of myself, but I am a brunet with shoulder length, softly curling auburn hair. My cute (not classically beautiful) face is set on a five-foot-four, one-hundred-ten-pound, twenty-six year old frame. I do aerobics four times a week, and still sport an unpadded-34B-bra, with thirty-one inch hips and twenty-three inch waist. Men don't usually care, but I have a MBA and graduated at the top of my class.

My mom and dad along with my two teenage brothers live in Italy with Granny (mom's mother) adjacent to her large vineyard and winery. It started out as a vacation, but with Papa dead, Granny thought the businesses needed a man to run them, she had no other children, so dad ran it 'for a few months until you find somebody.' Eight years later he is still there, and loving every minute. The plan was for me to get my MBA and start up a distribution of their wine in the United States. However, sales are so strong in Europe they can't make enough wine to meet that demand. They wanted me to move to Italy to help with the business, but I stayed here. I basically love America.

I'm independent and prefer to make my own living, at least until Mr. Right shows up. As an outside sales person, my route is nice boring. Every week I make a stop at all the city's bar and grills. I sell the sausages in jars and cardboard holders, and other impulse food you see behind bars. It is a good job from the aspect of making money, I clear over nine hundred a week. It also is a good job because I know all the bartenders and most of the owners. They are pretty well trained to treat me with respect, and they are satisfied with just efficient service and a cheerful smile.

Big Mike had the route before me, and felt he had to have a beer at each stop to celebrate each sale. I don't do that, I settle for a diet soda if I'm thirsty. That is why I complete my route in a week. Unlike Big Mike, he required three weeks to cover the same territory.

I had been in the right place at the right time and was lucky. I was under employed as a secretary and clerk for the wholesaler serving several cities. After Big Mike died of a heart attack while chasing some kids, who were stealing stuff out of his route van, which he carelessly left unlocked. I talked my boss, Fat Solly, into letting me do the route until he found a replacement for Big Mike, as an added inducement I promised I would do my old job too.

When route sales doubled as a direct result of better coverage, Fat Solly made the wise business decision to find a new clerk/secretary. I've been doing the job for two years now with almost no trouble.

On the other hand, my home life, read sex life, was in the toilet. By any standard my ex live in boyfriend Richard was a loser, but for the three months he'd lived with me, I'd been making excuses for him to myself. Like, after all, it wasn't his entire fault, he did have a Doctorate in Medieval Studies, and the local college had eliminated his position as attendance diminished. Since then, he couldn't find a job, even though he sent out hundreds of resumes. Hell, I knew going in Richard had a roving eye; I took him away from Gloria (who confided in me later she was tired of his sponging.) Now with too-much-free-time I wasn't surprised or terribly disappointed when he moved out.

It did irk me, really a pride thing that Richard moved directly in with Sandra, she had a bigger house for him to laze around in I told myself. Oh yeah, it was on the lake and she had a boat so Richard was really in 'fat city.' It was shortly after Richard moved out that Susan, one of my sorority sisters, called and asked if I was interested in a little boyfriend payback. Even though it wasn't Richard being paid back, it was a man, and just about then, all men were open season in my book.

At first, I thought the scene in the hotel room was good fun; the other three girls and I that Susan called dressed Bob quickly and efficiently as a hooker. Nail polish, shaved body, pierced ears - the whole nine yards. We mocked and ridiculed him the whole time, from the time he realized it wasn't just Susan ragging on him he was totally mortified. We had a lot of fun with him and I had to admit that he was a good sport; my best friend Maggie videotaped the whole thing. I figured Susan and Bob could laugh over it in the years to come. After all, Bob must have really loved Susan to put himself in such a vulnerable position, and after this lesson, I was sure he would be a good boy.

Until the end, it wasn't much more than they we did in college to haze a boy when he became engaged or pinned to one of our sorority sisters.

But near the end, Jan gave Bob a shot of something, and immediately his eyes glassed over and he looked swacked out. Then Susan told him to find his own way home - crudely dressed as a hooker.

I thought at the time that was grossly excessive, as we were in a downtown area that I wouldn't want to be walking around in at night, much less dressed as a transvestite hooker. I said something to Jan, and she told me to fuck off. I was pissed. Nevertheless, all we girls all left the room to have a few drinks at the bar. I left with Maggie after one drink, but not before Jan took the videotape from Maggie.

A few months went by and I basically forgot about the incident, but then I noticed Bob sitting at table having a sandwich and a beer at the Sportsman, a bar and grill on the outskirts of the city. I usually try to hit it Wednesdays around noon, in fact I usually have a chief's salad there; I like the Sportsman because food is really good and fresh. I didn't think anything of it, but when Maggie called me a few nights later to see if I was interested in taking a cruise with her, I mentioned seeing Bob. I asked her if Bob and Susan was a happy item again.

"Hell no, I talked to Jan and nobody has seen Bob since they dropped him off at the emergency room with a dildo up his ass."

"Dildo up his ass?" I asked.

"Yeah, Susan, Jan and her boyfriend shoved it up and it lodged in his colon. Apparently, it was while they had Bob in drag, I don't know if it was the same night or not. They had to drop him off at the emergency room to have it removed."

"Christ how did they explain that?"

"They didn't, Jan said Susan told the triage nurse they picked up this transvestite on the street because he looked to be in distress, Jan's boyfriend put a sleeper hold on him while Susan was talking to the nurse, and they just left him there. Jan thought it was funny as hell."

"That's sick, a really a rotten thing to do. He may have been cheating, but I've seen Susan and a nooner at the Savoy Lounge several times - they weren't discussing the weather either."

"Yeah, I thought so too, but that's not the worst. The next day after the emergency room, he didn't return to his house and two days later he called up his boss and quit, so they knew he hadn't died or anything. To my knowledge, you are the first person who has seen him since. Jan said Susan called his mother on the coast and she didn't even know he was missing. I thought what they did a few weeks later was really first class shitty, they sent the tape I made and a lot of other pictures to his mother and girlfriend - Jan gloated that they made him blow her boyfriend and sent those pictures too."

"There is no absolutely excuse for that…. Say Maggie, I really mean this; please forget I said I saw him. I feel pretty guilty that I had anything at all to do with this whole thing now."

"Christ how do you think I feel, I made the videotape in the hotel room, I sure won't say anything…. What do you think about the cruise?"

"I told Fat Solly I wanted three weeks after the first of the year to go to Italy, I can't take any time off before then, so I have to say no."

"Ok, now I don't think I'll go either, maybe we…."

The next week when I hit the Sportsman, Bob was there again, I asked Gimpy Fred, the owner, if he knew the guy at the end table.

"No doll, but he comes in here a lot. I guess he likes our burger-deluxe as he has it all the time. Blondie says he pays cash and is a great tipper, he doesn't give her any lip and she says he is a real gentleman."

"I don't know, I thought I might know him."

"Hell doll, if you want I call Blondie and introduce you."

"Thanks Gimpy, but I'll pass on that."

A few weeks went by, and each Wednesday when I stopped at the Sportsman, Bob was there, having a burger. I noticed over the weeks that he looked very sad. Not crying sad, or overtly sad, he would smile when served, or when spoken to, but his eyes were sad and lacked sparkle. I walked by him a few times, deliberately close, on the way to the ladies room, but I didn't see even a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

The fateful Wednesday, I noticed two motorcycles parked near the entrance in a handicapped slot. It looked like someone had deliberately run into them and knocked them over. That wasn't too surprising, as there was a running feud between the locals and bikers. I mused as I entered the bar, 'Too much testosterone and alcohol don't mix.'

Gimpy wasn't in sight, so I called to Blondie, "Hey Blondie, you got any bikers in here, somebody has knocked over their bikes."

Almost immediately two big guys in filthy black leather got up and walked over to me. The biggest one said, "Hey bitch, Rhodes rule, you do my bike, you do my dick. Grease check out the bikes, I'll be in the can with the bitch."

With that he grabbed my arm painfully and dragged me toward the restrooms in the rear, I screamed but he hit me hard in the face and snarled, "Shut the fuck up or I'll break your fucking arm."

He really punched me, I saw red, and then everything started to go gray, but he was still hustling me toward the rear. I knew Gimpy had a shotgun in the office and a baseball bat behind the bar, I also knew he was not behind the bar, and that Blondie at fifty plus was too frail to intervene. Shit! I knew I was in for something really bad, so much for bearing ill tidings.

"Let her go." A male voice, not loud, but spoken with assurance - at first I thought it might be Bob, but I couldn't see past the biker to be sure.

The biker stopped and faced his challenger, now I could see that it was Bob. My heart sunk as I remembered how easily Susan had overpowered him.

"Listen creep, shut the fuck up and maybe I won't break your face." The biker snarled. He must have had six inches and a hundred pounds on Bob.

I didn't see Bob start to move, but he delivered a vicious kick to the side of the biker's knee, I could hear the sucking sound as it dislocated. As the biker screamed and fell forward, Bob jammed his stiff fingers into the biker's neck. The biker released me and fell to the floor gasping for breath.

"Mary!" Bob commanded, "Go to the office back there, I saw the bartender go in there a few minutes ago, have him call the cops. This guy's friend will be back soon."

I didn't waste any time, but I found Blondie had beaten me to it. I stayed in the office while Gimpy hung up the phone and unlocked his double-barreled shotgun, loaded it, and went into the barroom.

I heard a police klaxon and started to go into the barroom.

But Blondie held me back saying, "When it's all clear the cops will come and get us so we can make a statement. You don't want to be near Gimpy and a loaded shotgun dear, he doesn't see so good any more."

What could I say to that? So I stayed, and sure enough, a few minutes' later two cops came in and took statements from us. By the time I got back in the barroom Bob was nowhere to be seen.

One of the cops in the barroom who was talking to Gimpy, I asked him, "Say, you didn't arrest that guy Bob did you, he saved me from a very nasty situation."

"No, we're cool with him, but we had him follow the sergeant down to the station to give a statement. Those two bikers are real troublemakers, in fact they are out on bail for previous aggravated assault and rape charges."

"Do you suppose he will be there for a few more minutes, I would like to thank him."

"More than likely, I'll radio the station and tell them you are coming. Say you are going to have a nasty shiner from that, while you are at the station have them take some photos for the record, it is beginning to really puff out."

When I got to the station Bob had already left, the duty sergeant said he was told I was coming to thank him, but that he said thanks weren't necessary and left. I had pictures taken, but left feeling like two days old dog's breakfast. Not only did my face hurt like hell, but also Bob had called me Mary. That meant he remembered that night in the hotel - but he saved me anyway.

That night I had no trouble getting to sleep, but I woke about four in a sweat reliving the bikers' attack. My face hurt so badly I couldn't get back to sleep. As I tossed and turned, I felt really bad that Bob had deliberately left without seeing me. I couldn't blame him, and that was the trouble.

The next few days I had to really hustle to get back on my schedule. I had to make up that afternoon's calls as well as the normal ones. The day I would normally visit the Sportsman's lounge, I dressed particularly well, in anticipation of meeting Bob again. I really wanted to thank him, maybe even put some sparkle back in his eyes.

But it seemed destined not to be - Bob wasn't at his accustomed table. After I restocked Gimpy and he paid me for this week, I asked, "Have you seen Bob lately?"

"Bob?" Gimpy asked.

"Yes, that's the name of the guy that saved me last week."

"No, I wish he would come back, I at least owe him a few free meals. It's nice to have a friendly fellow in here that can handle himself, Kyle said he put those bikers down real professional like."

"Kyle?"

"Yeah, he's my son in law, he was the officer who took your statement."

"You don't know where Bob lives by any chance, I'd really like to thank him."

"No, but here is the newspaper article, maybe the reporter got his address."

The article gave an accurate account of the incident, and mentioned the Biker's names and records, but only referred to Bob as a 'concerned patron.'

We were reading it together and when I finished, I asked Gimpy, "You don't suppose Kyle could get me Bob's address do you?"

He smiled and winked, "I'll ask him, and you're all dolled up today. I think Bob would really like to see you - I know I would like to see you at my front door. Give me a minute and I'll call Kyle, he is on duty today."

Gimpy went back to the office and Blondie brought me my salad, I was finished with it when Gimpy sat down saying, "You didn't get this from me - I mean that - Kyle could get in a ton of trouble." He handed me a piece of paper with an address on it.

"My lips are sealed, please get me a burger-deluxe to go." Gimpy looked like the cat that swallowed the mouse as he walked off to get the burger.

If that's his new house it's really nice, I thought as I parked in front. Well I told myself walking up his driveway; the worst that can happen is I have to finish a burger. I love burgers so that wouldn't be so bad. I just steer clear of them because they pass go and travel directly to my hips. Why was I so nervous? All I was doing was thanking the guy for saving my butt. Wasn't I?

I rang the doorbell; okay he's not home, ah well I tried. Just as I was turning to leave the door opened, he was standing there in a sweat suit, and well… sweating and looking surprised.

"You weren't at the Sportsman today, so I brought you your burger."

He smiled, "Come in, er I mean please come in Mary. It's a little messy, I wasn't expecting anyone."

I walked in and the place didn't look bad, it was clean, just a bit of disorder. There were a lot of papers on the dining room table along with a new looking Fax, PC, and color laser printer. His phone was there as well as a cell phone. There was a Wall Street Journal and Investors Daily on the floor in the living room next to a Lazy Boy recliner.

He walked into the kitchen through the dining room, and I just tagged along like a lonesome kitten.

He opened the refrigerator and asked, "Lets see, I have Poland water, Diet Coke, Heineken and some Chablis. What's your poison?"

"A Diet Coke would be great."

He took a Poland for himself, chugged it and then opened another as well as a coke. Then he took two glasses down from a cabinet next to the refrigerator and we sat down at the kitchen counter.

"Sorry about gulping that, I was very thirsty, been working out pretty hard."

I could see several exercise machines through a doorway leading to an enclosed porch - there was a large hot tub out there too. I could smell his perspiration and after-shave, it was exciting, and we were almost head to head across the narrow counter.

"Not a problem." I said with a smile.

He just sat there looking relaxed, and didn't say anything. I didn't look directly at him at first, but when I did, he was looking directly into my eyes; I felt he was looking into my soul. Without changing his gaze, he opened the bag, removed the Styrofoam tray, and ate a French fry.

"That's good, thank you, I didn't realize I was so hungry. Say would you like half?"

God but his eyes were a beautiful blue; I was falling into them.

"No thanks, I might steal a French fry or two if you don't mind."

I don't know how I got from steeling a French fry to lazing in his arms, in his hot tub, but the fact is I did. We were both naked, as a matter of fact.

"Would you like to make love?" He asked smiling.

"Would you mind terribly if we don't today?" I answered.

It was kind of a test answer I always gave with a new boyfriend. A distressingly long list of new boyfriends I thought. But this was the first time I was sitting naked in a hot tub with one, 'he'll never go for chastity now,' I though as I answered - but truthfully, I was not disturbed at the prospect of sex with this man.

"No I don't mind at all, that's cool. This all is happening rather fast for me too."

With that he got out of the tub, my mind was fully functioning again and I noticed his hair had grown back and he was more than half aroused, a really nice circumcised cock - funny I didn't remember that from that night. He was about five eight in soaking bare feet, slender, but muscular like a swimmer, not a weightlifter. He moved gracefully with fluid ease, like he had trained for the dance.

He was not at all self-conscious as he went to a closet and selected several towels. Taking one, he dried himself off quickly and wrapped it around his waist as he walked into the kitchen. I left the tub and noticed he had selected two towels for me, and one was a large fluffy towel that I could wrap way around myself like a dress if I liked. He was considerate of my feelings, by walking away and not staring, I noted. I could have dressed then and there, all my clothes were within an arm span, but several minutes' later I walked into the house garbed in the towel. I met him as he walked downstairs carrying a pair of his slippers, how did he know that I wouldn't get dressed?

"It's almost three-thirty, would you mind sitting with me while I close out my trading day?"

He pulled over a chair in front of the computer so I could sit next to him. He was so easy, so relaxed, I felt at ease and perfectly natural - was it possible he really didn't know who I was? Didn't know that I was there in that hotel room, God I hoped so, Gimpy or Blondie probably told him my name. He had noticed me after all and asked who I was, yeah, that must be it.

He used the computer's keyboard by touch, and his long fingers fairly danced over it as he concentrated on the screen. It was very erotic to me; I imagined those strong graceful fingers dancing over my body. After a while I forced myself to pay attention to the screen, he was moving systematically down then back up an Excel spread sheet. I suddenly realized that there were there were at least thousands of shares listed for each stock. He was entering a quantity in a column-marked sell, or in some cases buy for many of the stocks listed, as I looked the screen blinked about once each minute as the stock prices were updated. My eye moved to the number of shares column and, that cant be right. I was fascinated; there were tens of millions of dollars represented on this simple screen. About three-fifty, he activated a macro and sat back.

"Sorry to take so long, but managing this portfolio is my work now. I have Susan to thank for making me quit my other job, and deciding to do this full time."

Christ my stomach dropped through the floor, he does remember me. I put my hand on his arm and said, "I'm so sorry, really sorry. I thought it was a harmless hazing like we did at college, I didn't know Susan was really pissed and would go so far."

"It doesn't matter now, I was going to ask her to marry me, but she showed me what she is really like and saved me a ton of grief. It was hell, but better than being married and then going through hell."

"But Christ, I heard you lost your job, your apartment, and that she sent the tape from that night home to your mom. That was really dirty."

"She really tried to hurt me very badly, but all she really did was break my heart a little - I thought that I loved her, regardless of the other affair I had… Mary will you just run to Susan and tell her where I am now?"

"No, I'm through with Susan and Jan, I could never in a million years condone what they did to you."

"I hope you mean that, but I don't really care if you do tell her… however I really would like to believe you won't - I like you away from your friends."

"At least one of my friends, Maggie, is as disgusted with what was done as I am, I hope you believe that."

"I will, unless you show me you are two faced. Would you like to go out for dinner later?" Suddenly I realized we were both sitting clad only in towels at his dining room table. So we sat for hours, the best hours I had spent in a long, long time.

Eventually we did dress and go out, a quiet candle lit dinner in a Lebanese restaurant that he liked, I had never been there, but was seduced by his eyes and the soft violin music played by the owner. I went back to his house for a nightcap. Honestly, I was hoping to be asked to bed; instead, I had a Diet Coke and he bottled water, and I returned home before midnight.

I couldn't help but feel I blew it, blew it big time.

Two days went by, again I worked like hell to make up for my lost time that afternoon we spent together. At night I would wake up wet with images of his fantastic fingers playing my body like a keyboard, looking into his eyes as his lovely cock pounded into me. I couldn't push Bob out of my mind, and I tried. I really tried.

On Saturday, I received a box of two-dozen gorgeous long-stemmed red roses with sprays of baby breath. In the box was an invitation to dinner and a movie. My poor little slippers had no tread left on them, I was at the phone that quickly.

For the next three months we saw each other two or three then five or six times each week, we did fun things, ordinary things, and I fell deeply in love with Bob. I expressed an interest in his work, and began speeding through my route to have Friday afternoon free to work with him. I think he fell in love with me too, but he never asked me to bed, even though I made it very plain that I would welcome the invitation.

I couldn't reliably analyze my feelings at the time, but if I could have, I would have known I had never been in true love before. I couldn't imagine what possessed Susan to cast off this gem; Christ even if he couldn't get it up I would be his for life. I even believed I could share him with another woman, if that was the price to keep him.

One Saturday in June we went boating on Silver Lake, at the time I didn't know the cabin cruiser was his, I assumed it was rented for the day. We roared around exploring the lake, once pulling up to a tiny island to explore it. The only slight damper on the morning was that I could see the home where Richard was living with his new girlfriend; it was perched on the low-bluff overlooking the lake.

I was wearing a two-piece bikini, it was awfully daring, and I regretted not having more protection from the heat trapped by the shinny canvas cushions. On the other hand, I felt Bob's eyes on me all the time, and even though he tried to hide it in his loose fitting swimsuit, he was hard most of the time. I noted that with satisfaction and tried to move even more seductively.

Around one there was a rain shower, Bob anchored the boat to wait it out, and we went into the little cabin and started on the picnic lunch I had made. Before he opened the bottle of Champaign, he spoke with a serious look on his face.

"My dearest Mary, I love you very deeply, and I believe you return my love. However, there are things about me that you don't know, important things that might make you reject what I'm about to ask you."

Then it hit me, Christ he's gay or bi - could I share him with a man?

But I replied, "Darling, I can't imagine anything to make me reconsider living my entire life as your wife, if you will have me that is." There I've said it, take me I'm yours.

"Let me finish, first of all I too really do want to marry you and spend my life with you. However, there is much about me that you don't know."

I nodded my head with a little knot of dread in my stomach.

"First I want you to know that from the time I met her, I was unfaithful to Susan. We made love the first night we met and she moved in with me the next day, but I was in the midst of another relationship at the time. Marla was the other woman, and she was married to my boss. I knew I was just her boy toy, kind of a walking dildo for when the mood struck her - which as two or three times a week when we would have 'lunch.' However, she was good in the sack, and he manner reminded me of someone I love dearly.

At first I didn't consider it cheating, as I didn't exchange more than lust with Susan, neither of us said we loved the other; we just satisfied each other in the sack. I try to please a woman I'm with, and you can't do that well over time without caring for them. I know now that I was desperately looking for the reciprocal love denied to me by Marla. Gradually Susan became more and more possessive of me. By the end of the six months that we were together, she would become enraged if I looked at another woman.

I interpreted that as love, and stopped my relationship with Marla. She in turn found a new toy, and made sure I knew it, but I didn't care. I was going to ask Susan to marry me the night she confronted me about Marla. I admitted my relationship and tried to explain that it was she, Susan, who stole me from Marla. Susan wasn't buying it and stormed out of the house vowing revenge. She came back later that night, but completely ignored me. I didn't want to admit it, but after two weeks, I had resigned myself that it was over between us. Although I didn't consciously admit it then, deep down I realized it was for the best.

Then after work, I found her letter instructing me to use Nair all over my body and meet her at that hotel room. I was overjoyed at the prospect of making up with her, and resolved to perform whatever 'penance' she had in mind in good spirits.

Well you were there, I allowed her to totally humiliate me. In my heart of hearts, I figured she was due some payback, and tried to go along. There is something else I must tell you, but first let me tell you all of what happened that night and afterwards."

Bob was looking really distressed as went to a cabinet, removed a briefcase and large manila file folder. He opened a briefcase displaying several manila envelopes. From the first he extracted a few dozen copies of Polaroid photos, he handed them to me. Many of the pictures were taken in the same apartment, one that I had never been in. They were taken with four people present, even though Bob was the subject of most. Jan was there, another man, and of course Susan. They were clearly sexually torturing Bob. I was really disgusted, and it must have shown on my face.

"Yes, I don't blame you. They disgust me too, I'll take you home now."

My heart jumped, "No! No don't I'm not disgusted with you; I'm disgusted that I ever called these perverts my friends. They videotaped this too, didn't they?"

"Yes it's here if you want to see it, it's far more damning then the instant photos."

"Did they actually send these to your mother, and boss?"

"Yes, you're looking at the set they sent to my boss, and this" He took another thick envelope from the briefcase, "is the one they sent my mom."

I could see the postmarks and the address somewhere in California, "Christ, what did you do?"

"Well first of all, when I left the hospital I went to the house you I live in now, Susan didn't know about it. The house belongs to my Uncle Max and he lent it to me when I came to this town seeking anonymity. I was hurting very badly physically, after all I had a little taste of what a woman must feel like when she gives birth, and the intern and nurse were far from gentle when they removed the dildo. Not to mention my hole was ripped from Susan and friends earlier play. As I healed I got extremely angry, and that was before I knew Susan had sent the pictures out.

I considered killing them all, and that is no idle threat. I was in the Rangers working behind enemy lines during the Gulf War; I killed stealthily, mostly hand to hand, several times, and could have easily done it. I might have when they were torturing me, but they kept me drugged with something the whole time. I was severely weakened both mentally and physically. For days, as I recuperated in the house, I went through very satisfying scenarios of torture and murder in my mind, but in the end decided to write the whole nasty episode off as a bitter lesson in love's folly."

"Bob, I'm not that way, I could never hurt you like that. You have to believe me. I really do love you."

"I believe you, I know you love me, but let me go on. I did do two things; I hired a moving company to clear out all my furniture and notified the landlord I was out of there. I was subleasing on a month-to-month basis so that was not a problem. However, Susan was still living there. I would love to have seen her face when she returned from work, and found only a very few of her clothes, and some personal things scattered about the apartment. I donated the whole kit and caboodle of the rest to the Salvation Army in Carlson City - after I retrieved my things.

The first I knew Susan had actually sent off the photos was that same day when Marla called me on my pager. She answered my return call and said, "Oh you naughty boy you, are you trying to make me hot and take you back?" We arranged to meet in a motel with a VCR and went over all the pictures and video. Her envelope had been mailed from Cincinnati two days previously, so Susan didn't know I had trashed most of her things when she sent it. Marla was really pissed that Susan had done this to me, and in so doing indirectly try to cause trouble for Marla.

What Susan didn't know, was that Roger, my boss and her husband, got off on Marla's affairs. She told him every detail of her nooners, and then was he able to perform with Marla - it was a strange relationship, but they loved each other dearly. Of course Marla gave me all the stuff as you can see. In addition, she recommended a private detective agency to investigate Susan and friends - in order to protect myself from further attempts at torture by them.

I have all the reports here, and you can go over them in a minute. A day after Marla called me, I got a page from mom."

"Christ Bob, this must have broken her heart."

"Er, not exactly, you don't know my mom yet, she asked me to come to the coast and see her. I did, for different reasons she treated the whole thing much like Marla had. She was very supportive of me, and very, very pissed at Susan. Susan or Jan made one very big mistake, in mom's cover letter they threatened to send the photos to the tabloids, if I reported or accused them of stealing my travelers' checks. I always kept four thousand dollars or so in travelers checks in my sock drawer in case of an emergency, but I was upset and didn't even notice they were gone."

"That's a lot of money to leave around not making any interest." I observed stupidly.

"Maybe, but mom called in the head of the detective agency that had been so successful for her in the past, she is currently on her twelfth husband you know. She set them loose on Susan, of course, I told them about the other agency, and they quickly teamed up. This is some of what they found."

Bob handed me a thick partitioned manila file folder, it contained thick folders on Susan, Jan and William Pratt (I guessed he was Jan's boyfriend.) There were also thin folders on Maggie, Rose Michelle (the fifth girl at the hotel,) and me - I was instantly dying to read mine, but I restrained myself.

Bob continued, "What all this shows is that Susan and Jan are sadistic lesbian lovers, Jan is the male of the pair, Susan is the dominant. They have been together ever since high school."

My mind raced, like every girl in our sorority, I had my share of muff, but I never considered it more than assisted masturbation. It was very simple for me; other girls just didn't replace men in my heart. I hoped Bob didn't have a thing against old lesbian relationships.

I focused on what he was saying again, "… since college she and Jan have virtually destroyed the lives of at least three of Susan's previous male lovers - not including their attempt at me, she and Jan are one sick pair. William is their next victim, they are in the process of setting him up in a homosexual relationship gone wrong, and have arranged for a dozen 'boys from the bath house to do him on candid camera.' Personally, I can't work up much sympathy for the bastard, not after what he did to me, but if possible, I intend to stop them regardless…. Look it has stopped raining, why don't you read and look at all this stuff, I'm going to take a swim."

Of course, he knew that the first thing I read was the report on me. It was clinical and it disturbed me that my life could be summarized on a dozen pages, over half of which was stuff from credit reporting agencies. I looked through it all, at least I had excellent credit, Christ they had all my boyfriends listed with photos of several - including Richard posing with a rather dumpy blond in front of that house right up there. Bob must have known when he anchored in this exact spot; he sure as hell didn't miss much.

I read through the stuff on Jan and Susan and played the video they made in the apartment. I was so God damn mad when I finished I couldn't see straight. I was also horny as hell, I didn't understand that, and it disturbed me.

I closed everything up and when I went on deck, I realized the sun was setting. Bob was sitting in the captain's chair looking at the gorgeous sky with a far away look in his eye. I sat in his lap and put my arms around his neck, I kissed him until I thought he would suck all of me in after my tongue disappeared. Then I reversed the suction and drew him totally into me. He became hard and I imagined it lifted me up, it felt so hard and urgent.

"Bob dearest, if you don't fuck me here and now I'll… I don't know what I'll do, but I'll do it."

"I thought you would never ask."

And did he ever, no foreplay, infinitely gentle, but totally irresistible, we had months of foreplay and I was more than wet enough. He entered me as I lay on cushions he threw on the deck, and it was very dark when he had his third orgasm, I was rocked by many more. Then he withdrew and ate me out while I nuzzled his soft cock, and I had two more leaving me with the most wonder feeling I ever had, I didn't know love making could be nearly this good. Bob kissed me and shared a little of my pussy's juices, I could taste his sperm mixed with me and I said, "We are well and truly joined."

"I sincerely hope we are for life." He replied and kissed me tenderly for the longest time.

He got up, found his windbreaker, and took something from its pocket. He kneeled down next to me and proposed. When I said yes he put a ring on my finger, after I stooped crying for joy I couldn't help wondering if Richard had witnessed my moments of supreme happiness.

It wasn't until later that I saw the size of it, three carets at least, Bob saw me looking at it, and said, "Yes, it's a perfect diamond for a perfect lady."

I stayed with Bob that night and I moved in with him the next day, he is such a wonderful lover, but more than that, he is witty, smart, considerate, and thoughtful. We talked about when we would get married.

Bob smiled, "Wait until you meet mom and the family dearest, if you still want me, then within minutes or whenever you desire."

I talked to Fat Solly, and told him of my engagement. His eyes told me that he understood. I talked to Linda the present secretary/clerk about taking over my route the days when I might be gone, and maybe permanently if I had to leave for good. I really made her day; she thanked me for the opportunity and agreed to travel with me a few mornings to learn the job. Then I talked to Fat Solly, and he agreed it was prudent to have a backup just in case. The next two days I took Linda with me in the morning, and she went back to the office in the afternoon of the second day confident she could fill in.

A few days later, the MBA in me got the better of me, and I took the ring in to be appraised, at that point, I really didn't care if it was glass, but I was curious. The old jeweler did a double take and looked at it through a microscope like thing.

As he looked at it he said, "This is very valuable young lady… as far as I can see in its setting the stone is flawless… it's genuine and looks to me to be over three carets… there is another half caret in the baguettes." Looking up at me he continued, "We are talking ballpark over twenty thousand, up to double that if the stone is perfect and its color is what I think it is. If you need a certificate for your insurance I will have to remove the diamond from it's setting to examine and weigh it, that will take an hour and cost two hundred dollars."

"No that won't be necessary, I'm sure my fiancée has one - I was just wondering if it could be real."

"Oh it's real all right, you are a very lucky young lady."

I purchased a pair of diamond studs to match, five hundred dollars was more than I had ever spent on jewelry, but I fancied the ring seemed lonesome and looked better with diamond earrings. That was Friday, and when I returned the van to the warehouse, I told Fat Solly I was going to take next Monday and Tuesday off.

Very early Saturday we left for California, I was psyched, as I had never been there, I was going to meet Rebecca, Bob's mom. Christ what if she hated me? Several times, he tried to prepare me for mother, but nothing he said did the reality justice.

We landed at San Francisco's airport and took a private helicopter north along the coast. Bob and the pilot, Mike Mason, were friendly and obviously knew one another well. Bob casually explained this was his company's helicopter, and pointed out the points of interest as we flew up the coast. I was so busy looking the time passed quickly, and soon we were landing in front of an imposing Tudor style mansion.

Bob said with heavy irony, "Be it ever so humble…."

"Home sweet home?"

He merely nodded.

I had to say it, "If Susan stole four thousand dollars from you, why didn't she just wait and take a big piece of this?"

"Simple, she didn't know about this, she thought I was a poor guy from the west who found a job in Marsh City by using the Internet. Mom set up a phantom identity, and that's whom Susan corresponded with; Susan thought mom was a secretary living in Burbank. There actually is a house and woman there who responds as mom, but passes all messages and correspondence up here, only I have mom's direct phone number."

"Still it was awfully close, you thought you loved her."

"Yes, but not remotely like I love you, and unlike Susan, I really like you, just being with you - you are really a nice person." Bob responded with conviction, and I floated to heaven.

From the landing-pad we walked over the lush grass to the house, we met a liveried butler hurrying towards the helicopter, and he assured us our bags would be placed in our room. The front door opened and a nice looking dark skinned lady in her fifties greeted Bob. He kissed her, and then she kissed me.

Bob introduced us, "Mary please meet Alexandria," I had kissed her thinking she was Bob's mom, but strangely Bob continued, "Whatever warm and wonderful qualities I have were nurtured by her loving care." She simply radiated with the compliment.

I thought that a strange thing for him to say to his mother, but then I heard, "Bob, my dear, so good to see you so soon. Ahhh Mary, you're every bit a beautiful as your pictures." She was walking down the long spiral staircase, looking for all the world like the femme fatale in a forty's melodrama.

I was mesmerized; she was tall and slender, and from a distance looked to be in her twenties. Her shoulder length platinum blond hair shimmered and blended into her gorgeous trim silver satin suit. She had great legs showcased by her short snug skirt and silver heels, I thought my ring was something, but she positively dripped with diamonds. As she drew closer, I could see her eyes and Bob's were identical shades of blue, and just as arresting. Up close, it was clear she was in her forties or more, but not because she wasn't trying to tastefully roll back time. So this is mom, I thought - but I didn't know the half of it.

"Mary, I'm pleased to introduce Rebecca, my mom. Rebecca, meet the one true love of my life, Mary."

What do you say to an apparition after that introduction? I untied my tongue and said, "Pleased to meet you Rebecca, Bob has told me so much about you that I feel I know you already."

"Oh, I doubt that." She replied, "But he is the product of my true love and as such you do know the better part of me, the rest I'm afraid is something even I don't know. Please allow Alexandria to show you around and then take you to your suite, freshen up a bit from your trip, and we will have a light lunch on the patio. Say in thirty minutes?"

I nodded affirmatively and Bob answered, "Wonderful mom, we will be there."

I nodded my head and found myself following Alexandra on a tour, and then up the imposing staircase. Bob made pleasant small talk with Alexandra and tried to include me, but besides Bob, we really had no common frame of reference. Alexandra had been Bob's nanny and now, with a smile, she said she was Rebecca's.

I guess it was Bob reassuring presence, but while intellectually all this overwhelmed me, emotionally I felt at ease, almost as if it was I returning home. Once alone in our suite, I didn't notice our luggage.

"I wonder if they moved our luggage to the wrong room?"

"No, this is my suite, our things have been put away I imagine."

He walked into the bathroom and called, "Our toothbrushes and toiletries are here. I'll be out in a sec."

I heard him tinkle for the longest time, which reminded me of my need. I joined him, and while I peed, he brushed his teeth. He pointed out the bidet and said I might enjoy that. It was funny feeling, as I had never used one. When I finished he smiled and patted me dry with a heated towel, and applied a little powder with a large puff, and we kissed, I loved the mint of his kiss.

"Wait a minute, I need to brush too." After I brushed, we kissed a minute more, and I said, "You should have warned me, I really have nothing that suits this place, what will I wear?"

"Let's see what Rebecca has provided for you." There were two bedrooms off the sitting room, one very masculine finished in natural woods and royal blue, it had a king-sized bed, and its cabinets held model trains, airplanes, toy soldiers, etc. However, the other room was very feminine; finished in pastels and lace, the covered king-sized bed was pale yellow and lace, the room's glass cabinets held dolls, tea sets, and pictures. Bob led me to the large walk in closet in the male room, and indeed our clothes had been neatly hung up. In addition to the things I brought there were a dozen other outfits clearly intended for me.

"Why don't you pick out something from your new things, personally I like this suede suite, I think it will pick up your hair and eyes perfectly." Bob suggested.

It looked great to me I just hoped it would fit, there were no labels. Bob began opening drawers in his enormous dresser, finally he said, "Here is your lingerie, I guess these drawers are yours." With an evil grin he continued, "Pick out something sexy, I imagine we will have several hours to ourselves after our lunch."

We both stripped and took a quick shower together, it was a large shower with multiple nozzles, and it was a complete pleasure to help each other without feeling crowded. Back in the room, I selected some undies from the luscious new things Rebecca had provided. I seldom wore a garter belt and stocking, but that was what was there, given the licentious looks Bob was giving me as I dressed, I would be wearing them much more in the future. I felt wonderfully sinful like a girl in an X rated movie, and the sheer stockings were like having a silken mist on my legs.

The suit fit perfectly, the color was a perfect shade for my hair, and it brought out my green eyes like nothing I had ever worn. Before we left the room, Bob started putting emerald jewelry on me, I looked at the box, and it was marked 'Fawn Suede Suit.' From the closet, he brought out a pair of matching suede heels, and I exchanged my black pumps for them, they fit perfectly.

Bob had a pair of navy whipcord trousers, pale blue Izod shirt, and a navy-hunting jacket, leather patch elbows, with black tasseled loafers. A gold Rolex watch and impressive school ring was his only jewelry. I didn't recognize the school, seeing me look he said, "Harvard, class of '88, I got my MBA there in '90."

We checked each other out in the full-length mirrors, and we absolutely looked like a beautiful couple out of the pages of GQ or Vogue. It positively made me wet!

A late lunch with Rebecca, God that was a trip. She clearly loved and doted on Bob, but she was a very peculiar person. I was sure she was open and honest with me, and equally sure she was disingenuous. The impression I had going in was Bob had gone forth into the hinterland to find a true love, a girl not merely after his money and power. At the end of the meal I was sure Bob left home to gain the freedom to find 'the one true love of his life,' as he expressed it, free of mom's influence.

However he clearly loved her too, it wasn't that he was at all subservient to her; it was more like she enveloped those around her to her will. I couldn't help wondering where I fit into mom's plans, clearly if my new wardrobe was any indication, she had given me a great deal of thought.

As Bob predicted, dinner would be at nine and we had several hours to ourselves, and what wonderfully glorious hours they were. It scarcely seemed possible, but our lovemaking these days was far better than our first time. Bob was very attentive to every detail of what I responded to, and over the weeks, following his lead I paid attention to the things that he liked. Of course, one does that to one degree or another in any long-term relationship, but with Bob, it was an art form. He became sensitive to my slightest response, sequences of responses, and I became attuned to his body to an extraordinary degree, so now it was as if our nervous systems were linked.

Rebecca had a few houseguests brought in from Carmel in the helicopter, and dancing to a three-piece band followed dinner. I met Don Miguel (something long that I didn't catch,) fortunately he instructed me to call him Miguel, he was Rebecca's twelfth and she didn't take his name - even temporally. He was clearly showing the strain of marriage to Rebecca, as he was sloshed before dinner and comatose after.

I couldn't believe it, but the other guests were well known movie stars, and one was even more handsome in person then on the screen. I danced with him twice, but each time I couldn't wait to rejoin Bob. Bob told me the two stunning women he danced with couldn't hold a candle to me, I believed him because he didn't lie to me, it was such a good feeling.

We went to bed and to sleep immediately, in the morning I woke early to Bob's kisses and one thing led to another. When we finished we had a small breakfast brought up and napped until eleven, and then showered and dressed. We took our time, as Bob told me Rebecca never left her room until noon. I couldn't help wondering out loud if Miguel could perform this morning. Bob replied that mom was disappointed with him, and that if Miguel didn't shape up, he wasn't long for this household.

Lunch was a revelation, totally unexpected, and I didn't know how to handle it at first. For the first time since the hotel room, Bob seemed less than sure of himself. He didn't fidget, but he seemed to tense up as we approached the table. I never would have noticed it if I weren't so closely attuned to him.

We were on the lovely outdoor veranda overlooking an Olympic sized swimming pool. Moving overhead were sunscreens, Bob said they were part of a sculpture that blocked harmful rays from the sun, and comfortably attenuated its bright light. The temperature was pleasantly warm and the cold grapefruit was sweet and perfect. Rebecca looked at Bob and I caught a slight nod and grimace.

"Bob, have you told Mary about Jeanie?"

He shook his head no.

"No, we haven't discussed her at all." I said with a little knot growing in my stomach.

"Mary, last week Bob and I discussed whether to bring this up or not, I recommended against it initially, as there is such a thing as too much honesty in a marriage. But Bob pointed out my only happy and lasting marriage was my first, and it was based on truth. You see my Robert was killed in the early-eighties and I have had eleven subsequent husbands. However, my Robert had this quirk, and at a young age we foisted it on Robert."

"That's not fair mom, I never objected."

"Be that as it may, should you find this distasteful Mary, both Robert and I will understand should you decide to break your engagement. I only ask that you not discuss it subsequently with anyone else, and that you hear me completely through. Your other option is to elect to forget I ever brought the subject up, I will say no more about it, and you can marry straight away."

Christ, with that build up I had to know. Then a mature part of me remembered Eve and the bitter fruit of knowledge of good and evil, perhaps it would be wiser if I eschewed this knowledge, and after all I believed nothing could shake my love in Bob. Need I know all? All about his past loves? Rebecca was looking at me; my thoughts must have been mirrored on my face, but nobody said anything to get me off the hook.

Finally, I whispered, "Tell me, if Bob believes I must know, I must."

"So be it. My husband Robert, Bob's dad was a transvestite; he was raised by his mother as a girl until he reached puberty, at which time he was trained as a man. He was never homosexual, and he told me he never voluntarily had sex with a man, and I believe him.

His mother was quite wealthy, and when he graduated from Harvard, he took over active management of the Family fortune, including two large corporations. He was a brilliant businessman dedicated two hundred percent of himself to the business, as a result he increased the family fortune more than a hundred fold in fifteen years. But he felt unfulfilled on several levels, he denied himself dressing and he felt the need of a woman's company, years later he joked with me - 'even if it meant taking a wife.'

He set about finding a suitable wife like he would acquire a company, as luck would have it I was one of two female assistant secretaries to his secretary. I was chosen by her to research available girls, and present their names, photos, and histories to Robert. I did my assignment thoroughly, and as a practical matter, I presented a few alternatives on a weekly basis.

At first I was overawed by Robert, after all he was fifteen years my senior, and the virtual despotic god in the office, so I timidly presented my first and second choice with my rational each week, I even made most of his dates for him. But as the weeks passed, I became more relaxed and free in my discussions of the candidates. For whatever reason, after six months he still had not found a wife, even though he was dating two or three times each week."

Rebecca's eyes took a far away look as she continued, "I remember it like yesterday, it was a Thursday morning and Robert was a little grumpy from a late date the evening before.

'Well who have you selected for me this week?' He grumped.

In an effort to lighten his mood I replied, 'You see standing before you your future bride, my mean old boss has me report to work so early, that I could never deprive you of your sleepy time.' And then I curtsied.

Without batting an eye he said, 'How about two weeks from Saturday at St. Patrick's, make the arrangements.'

'Does that mean I should stop my search?' I asked stupidly.

'Of course, I'm not a Mormon.'

I turned to leave and he called me back, 'Shouldn't we seal the bargain with a kiss?'

Well I'll tell you, he must not have kissed any of the women I selected for his approval, or they never would have let him go. I melted into him and never left his spell, even now years after his death I miss him terribly each and every day, my sense of loss has never abated.

Within months, after we were married I was totally happy, our bodies were well synchronized, my Robert was an excellent and considerate lover, and I fit him in every possible way. From your happy face I imagine your Bob fits you too."

"He does," I replied, "we went out for months before we made love, in that time I fell completely and utterly in love with him, I promised myself I would marry him if he would have me, even if he was impotent. But when we became engaged I found the lover of my every fantasy, he couldn't be better."

Rebecca continued, "I know the feeling well, but one morning a year after we were married I bathed first. I came out from my bath and found Robert holding one of my dresses, I thought he wanted me to wear it, but I said playfully, 'Thinking of wearing that today?'

In his direct way he said, 'As a matter of fact yes, but I don't know how you would react.'

Well I didn't know how I would react either. I looked at him and realized he was perfectly serious. 'My goodness why?' I finally asked.

He hung up the dress, and suggested we drive to New Canaan where his mother lived on her large secluded estate. We were dressed normally of course; there was no chance that dress would fit him. I had May pack a picnic lunch, and ordered up our limo. In the limo, we could look at one another, and with the chauffeur's window closed, we had total privacy.

He told me this fantastic story about being raised as a girl until he was fourteen, and then suddenly, an ex-army colonel replaced his nanny - and he was out of dresses - to this day.

When we reached New Canaan we talked to his mother; she explained when Robert was two his father died, and she went a little crazy. She always wanted a daughter for company, so she simply raised Robert as a girl. The deception was complete, until he was fourteen Robert thought he was a girl, even the daily disguising of his obvious male sexual organs was passed off as a normal 'girl thing.' And while he went to school, his mother dominated his time and controlled his friends. Since this was all done in a very loving way, my Robert didn't object, he thrived, he loved being a kind, gentle, thoughtful girl.

As he approached fifteen, it became clear hormones therapy would be required to keep Robert delightfully feminine, but when she brought this up with her psychiatrist he forcefully said it was unethical, probably illegal and clearly against the boy's long term best interest. He made a strong case and recommended a strong male influence to set things back on a natural course. Enter the Colonel.

At first, Robert didn't like leaving the peace and security of the feminine world of his mother. The boys in the new school he was thrust into made it clear what happens to 'sissies.' Robert told me that he was sodomized and terrorized in that first school, but he kept the shame to himself, and that I was the first person he had ever told. After two months in that school, the Colonel decided he had learned his lesson and transferred him to another private all boys' school. He developed his gruff, no nonsense style in dealing with people, in the second prep school. While initially somewhat effeminate he worked on it, and with the Colonel's help, and with the changes brought about by puberty, he was accepted as a man's man at Harvard."

Rebecca looked like she would cry, but continued with a tear in her eye, "I was beginning to believe this improbable tale, Robert was so tender, and gentle in his dealing with me, it seemed at odds with how he dealt with others. This would explain his dual nature, but I still didn't fully believe him - I thought perhaps he was leading me into an elaborate practical joke - he had a grand sense of humor and was perfectly capable of that.

Then he showed me the rooms next to his mother's that he had lived in as a girl, it was as if time had been frozen, all the girls things were in place. He showed me his dresses, jewelry, dolls, and told me their stories. Then he showed me his male rooms up stairs away from mother, and pointed out his boy things and told me their stories. There was real pain in his eyes telling his boy stories, and I had no doubt his story was true after that.

On the way home from mother's Robert explained that recently, at times, he was experiencing a compulsion to dress as a woman. He didn't want to 'dress' behind my back and would like my cooperation, hopefully my approval. I didn't like that at all as Robert was a very virile man, frankly I was worried that he would become effeminate full time, and that our marriage would be destroyed. I asked him to hold off for a while, to give me time to think his request through, and he agreed.

A few weeks later I had researched the subject of crossdressing in the library and found the reading fascinating, but it didn't answer the question of how deep into his compulsion Robert would be drawn. Concluding I needed an outside opinion, I talked to his mother's psychiatrist. Without discussing Robert's mother, he recommended that Robert see him. Robert went twice a week for a month and I was asked to attend his last session. The psychiatrist suggested we use the forthcoming Halloween holiday to dress Robert as a girl and go to a costume ball. If I wanted him to cease after that, he agreed that he would.

Well to make a long story short, Robert and I shopped for costumes together, he was larger than I, and my things wouldn't fit him, so we started from scratch. Since he was dressed as a male when we shopped that first time, we used the cover of the costume party to explain his presence in the ladies departments. I was amazed how much I enjoyed shopping together; it was like shopping with the sister I never had or the best friends I seldom had time for.

The week before the party we dressed in costume as kind of a dry run. I was to be George Burns and Robert would be Gracie Allen. Robert chose the characters, and in retrospect, it was a brilliant choice for his case. My choice was a heavier costume, like a ball gown or prom dress. Gracie Allen wore everyday full-skirted dresses. I was so caught up in Robert's adventure I scarcely gave a thought to mine, after all, I frequently wore pants; how hard could it be to impersonate a man believably?

I watched Robert prepare, I guess he thought it was his one shot, and he would do it right. He began with a bath; I helped him shave his legs, arms, back, and underarms. He shaved his face very closely, he looked funny without body hair, but when I stripped for my bath, he felt nice next to me as we embraced - and got hard as a rock. We made love right there in the bathroom, taking our time and doing it right, it was our all time best to that moment. Just an aside, my personal preference now is for little or no body hair on a man, it is ever so much more sensual.

Then while I took my bath Robert dressed in a long line girdle, bra, stockings, heels, and slip. Then he proceeded to apply the makeup we had purchased. It was at that point I joined him, the first thing I noticed was his excellent posture, and he wasn't slouching at all, as Robert would. Then I noticed he was sitting with his legs together pulled to the side under the makeup chair. I couldn't identify all the things he was doing, but if I didn't know it was he, from the back he looked like a woman, a woman with little defining shape, but a woman nevertheless.

He was looking in the mirror at my expression, 'It's like riding a bicycle darling.' And smiled.

I watched in amazement as he made up, he really had good taste and an excellent sense of color. His features were quite coarse for a woman, but his body language said I am a woman. The wig was next, and the transformation of his face was complete. He stepped into his dress and zipped it like he had been doing it all his life.

He said in a high voice, but not outrageously so, "Come on George we'll be late for the curtain call."

I got into my costume, and my coaching began. I had expected to be coaching Robert all night, but that wasn't the way it happened. Gracie was a somewhat homely girl, but unquestionable a girl. It turned out we spent every evening as George and Gracie that week while I learned my part. On Thursday night, Gracie spilled soda on her dress, and we walked to Macys in costume to get a new one. We really had fun this time, but I was the one who looked out of place in the women's departments, not Gracie. Robert explained that he had been shopping with his mother literally a thousand of times, and hadn't forgotten the fun and pleasure it brought them.

By the night of the ball, Robert said perversely he felt his compulsion to dress was gone for a while, but of course, we went. Surprisingly we were nominated as finalists as we kept a running routine going all night as we circulated. We did our act in front of everyone on stage, I lit my cigar at the end and almost choked, but we won first prize.

I won't be telling tales out of school, but we made love two or three times each night that week, just like on our honeymoon. Needless to say, Robert dressed again with my willing approval, even urging at times. To make it easier and create less gossip we moved here, and Robert's company relocated its corporate headquarters to San Francisco. We went out 'dressed' hundreds of times, and the only one ever 'read' was I, during the times I tried to dress convincingly as a male.

When your Bob was born five years after we moved here, he was one of twins, his twin sister died at birth. My fallopian tubes were damaged during their birth, and I couldn't have additional children.

Robert and I talked about modifying Robert's mother's solution. Robert thought cold turkey at fifteen was far too harsh. He maintained that he almost didn't survive the transition, but he asked, 'How about living alternately as a boy and girl until puberty?'

We decided to try it, whenever my Robert became Gracie, from the age of one your Bob would become Jeanie. It worked out amazingly well, and by the time he was five Bob could assume either role as quickly as he could dress for it. Once Bob was nine or so he would often become Jeanie without Robert becoming Gracie, and just go shopping or to a ladies function with me. All the neighbors and our friends knew Gracie and Jeanie as our close cousins from the city.

The real problem came when my Robert was killed, Bob was fourteen and was clearly disposed to be a man, even though he would often dress as Jeanie and go out with me. As Jeanie he was my friend and confidant, we went everywhere together and it got so I couldn't bear it when Bob was present. We had a big fight when he was fifteen; I went a little crazy and lost touch with reality. I wanted him, no demanded that he take hormones and maybe have the operation. However, he wisely refused, absolutely refused, and I wasn't so crazy as to give him hormones without his consent.

I gave him an ultimatum, take the hormones, or leave my house for boarding school. He tearfully chose boarding school, and we were both so God damn stubborn, that he didn't come home until he graduated Harvard and had his MBA. Then, he immediately joined the Army, and I almost died with fear for him, but he became an officer on his own and went to war in the gulf. He received the Silver Star among other decorations for bravery, and came back for an extended visit for the first time in eight years. He was twenty-four by then, and I had gone through nine husbands."

I started to speak, but Rebecca said, "Just a little more now Mary, I'm almost done.

As I said after the Gulf War Bob came home to visit a few days, but he ended up staying six years picking up the management of the company as his father had, he is, if anything, more brilliant and successful. Frequently he would dress for me, he is a not a very pretty girl, but like his father he is never 'read.' Since I don't want to seduce him, I always look better, he has excellent taste and sense of style, and a thoroughly wicked sense of humor - he is a great companion. If you give Jeanie a chance you might enjoy occasional friendship with her, but remember to ask me when you plan to do serious shopping, I'd like to go along."

She smiled wistfully and I found myself smiling too, after a long moment she continued, "A little less then two years ago Bob came to me and said he planned to take two years leave from the business to find a wife, he said there was a big hole in his heart that only a wife could fill. Looking at my track record finding a suitable husband, he decided to go where he was unknown and find true love. I told him he was a damn fool, but we didn't fight about it. We both had our fill of fighting, and believe it or not, we do really love and care for each other. I helped him by arranging a dummy mother, a dummy identity for him, and giving his quest my blessing.

I'm still a protective bitch, so unknown to Bob I've had him under discrete surveillance all the time, but I didn't interfere even when he started living with Susan. Yes Bob, I had her number right from the start, her history was vile, and unlike you I don't forgive any injury to you - trust me, she and that Jan creature have only begun to pay the price."

Her demeanor became as cold and hard as any of her diamonds, but then she warmed and continued.

"Mary, I don't know how you feel after all this, I suspect you don't either, but as far as I'm concerned you are very welcome in my family. Not that you need my welcome, Bob is independently wealthy and can do as he damn well pleases."

With that, Rebecca finished her orange juice and left the table to us. I honestly didn't know what to say to Bob, and he didn't help by just sitting still, calmly looking at me with those blue eyes of his. I couldn't help wonder what Jeanie looked like, I found myself squirming a little thinking about it, damned if it wasn't turning me on. I thought that I owed it to myself to see what he was like as a girl, after all, I did believe I could share him with another woman if it came to that, but I never expected he would be the other woman. However, I resolved to sleep on it and not to make a hasty decision.

We didn't talk about it the remainder of the day; Bob seemed content to let me assimilate Rebecca's revelations. Instead, we played tennis, swam, and shot each other with paint balls in mock combat running through the redwoods, and that was real fun - gross as it sounds. We were physically tired and retired after dinner, but not so tired we couldn't….

The next morning was Monday, we woke about eight, and while we were in the shower I asked, "Er, do you suppose Jeanie would like to go shopping in San Francisco, maybe have dinner there?"

Without skipping a beat he replied, "I don't see why not, would you like to watch?"

"Not this time, I think I'll dress quickly and wait on the veranda, it's a beautiful day."

"Ok, but this time there is a lot to do and it will take me over an hour."

"I'll have a bite and wait."

I dressed quickly, and left him with a little smile, thinking 'What the hell are you doing girl?'

I have a damn good memory and I used the time alone to review our life together, then I factored Rebecca's revelations, I tested it all against my gut feel and came up with truth. Rebecca and Bob were being totally and completely honest with me. Bob really meant it when he said he wanted us to be a lifetime commitment, and I didn't think I could be happy without him, not after experiencing his love. I resolved to see this through no matter what, I just hoped he really could pass, and wouldn't embarrass both of us.

The time passed quickly, and I was surprised by a soft feminine voice saying, "Mike has the chopper warmed up out front, are you ready to go?"

I looked around and there was a tall girl standing there, I let my eyes check her out, she walked closer to me and gave me a sisterly peck on the cheek. Up close I saw Rebecca's assessment was accurate, a rather homely dirty blond haired girl, a little overweight and not very curvy, but neat, tastefully dressed and made up - very presentable. She smelled nice and her two outstanding features were great long legs and beautiful arresting blue eyes. Up close, I could see the artful way they were made up, even though the eyebrows were not plucked to the line I thought would look best. Then I realized then I was really looking at Bob's face, and that he had to change back without a trace of Jeanie.

I asked Jeanie to walk ahead of me, and she did, her three-inch heels defined her great legs and she had a nice fluid walk. Her choice of a full-skirted dress and butt length jacket hid a multitude of sins. I caught up with her and we linked arms.

"Are you wearing stockings or pantyhose, horny minds need to know."

"I almost always wear stockings, much easier to pee. I wear pantyhose only with very, very short skirts. You aren't one of those biker girls, are you?"

I couldn't stop laughing; this was going to be fun.

Our trip into San Francisco was a revelation to me; Jeanie was every bit as much fun to be with as Bob, abet in a very different way. We landed atop of Bob's corporation's building. She told me not to tell Bob how I knew, but candidly don't be impressed with this building, as his company only occupied a little more than half the thirty floors. That he was inordinately proud of his dumb office on the very top floor, but she was sure it couldn't be safe during earthquakes.

I knew from experience Bob had an aversion to shopping, and I couldn't drag him into a dress department, much less Victoria's Secret. Jeanie enjoyed shopping, in fact, she was a shopping animal, trying on things, and she had a keen sense of style and color. I learned quickly if she said, Bob would like this or that, it was objectively exactly right for me. Even for herself, she chose clothes that would flatter her meager assets, and resisted the temptation to purchase what looked great on a mannequin or on me.

She kept me laughing continuously when she cut up Bob and Rebecca, Miguel and the dinner guests. I had to stop her several times while I caught my breath.

When she launched into a discussion of how Miguel could be straightened out in skirts, I laughed until I realized it wasn't a bad idea if Rebecca cared enough to make him try.

She was also right on the mark when he described the life ahead of me as a shopping machine, and candidly proposed I withhold sex from Bob, that is until he agreed to find me a job with him suitable for a fully trustworthy MBA. She played the part of the dizzy blond to perfection, an astonishingly perceptive dizzy blond I corrected myself.

God help the people around us if they had a hair out of place, they were comically crucified and roasted in her whispered scathing remarks. At dinner, she had me in stitches talking about her efforts to diet, while eating a lobster, corn on the cob, and French fries, after consuming a plate of crab as an appetizer.

We took a cab back from Fishermen's Warf and went up an elevator controlled by a key to the helicopter's lounge area, we didn't have long to wait for Mike, and within twenty minutes, we were airborne.

Rebecca and Miguel were talking, and it looked serious, so we just said goodnight. I started to go in our bedroom when Jeanie said, "Would you like to see my room?"

"Sure." I replied.

We entered the female room next to Bob's. Jeanie showed me her doll collection, a collection of pastels she had drawn over the years, photos of her with Rebecca, Gracie and Robert - and her bed. She bounced on it saying it was 'really comfortable.'

"Er, have you ever slept with a girl, you know when you were in college or something." Jeanie asked unabashedly.

"Once or twice a long time ago."

"I've read about it in books, they made it sound like two girls could have more fun than a guy and a girl. I've seen pictures in magazines and it looks like fun to me. Was it fun when you did it?"

"Yeah, I guess so, but men are so much better."

"Not for girls like me they aren't." She pouted, "How do you do it, I mean how do you start? What do you do?"

"Do you have something in mind? Because if you do you can forget it, Bob is right next door, and he is a real light sleeper." I said firmly.

"Don't tell him in the morning, but I put some phenobarbital in his milk, he is out for the count. How do girls make love, I'm always here with Rebecca and nobody ever showed me."

"Well I guess it starts out by kissing."

"Would you like to kiss me?"

"Well, maybe just once."

Of course, one thing led to another, Jeanie surprised me again. Her breasts were attached with flexible surgical glue and stayed on without a bra, and they were made of silicon gel, anatomically correct, in a thin-breast-shaped sack. They weren't very big, maybe a little over an A cup, so by manipulating them I was really tweaking her real breasts giving her pleasure. Her body was hairless and her actions were thoroughly feminine, I really thought of Jeanie as a 'her.' If it weren't for that marvelous permanently attached dildo, I would have thought I was back in college with a girl.

It really was kind of cool game, forbidden you know, she would remind me my husband was sleeping very soundly, she hoped, in the next room, and she did know all the buttons to push. We tried out her new dildo and amazingly, it produced fluid at exactly the right moments, I told her to patent it. After we tired, she gave me one of her nighties and we fell asleep like spoons.

I slept the sleep of the dead, but sometime during the night, she left the bed. Bob woke me in the morning demanding to know why I was in Jeanie's' bed and not his. He absolutely cracked up at my expression of dismay.

"Got'ch!" He grinned.

'In every possible way! In every possible way my spouse to be.' I sighed contentedly to myself.

The next day we burned up the phone lines to Rufina, the little town outside of Florence, Italy. The home of half my ancestors, and we spoke to my family. We decided we would be married in Italy eight weeks from Saturday; my mom would make all the arrangements. Rebecca, Bob and I would come two weeks before and get acquainted. Bob would arrange for a plane to bring our friends to Italy for several days to attend the wedding - he would pay all of their expenses.

I meanly thought of inviting Susan and Richard, but Maggie - my maid of honor - said no one had seen her in months, and Richard had found a job in Pittsburgh. I didn't give them another thought.

That afternoon Jeanie, Rebecca and I went shopping for a wedding dress, after looking at thousands and trying on hundreds (it seemed,) we settled on a creation that cost as much as my MBA. And it was worth every cent, it's amazing how quickly I adjusted to having money.

Tuesday evening we flew back to Marsh City, I had to get back to give Fat Solly a few weeks notice, after all, he had been good to give me a chance and I felt I owed him.

I keep a diary, but this was the interesting part of my life, the rest was mostly a pleasant fantasy come true.

Footnote: February 19, 2028, Rebecca lived a long and happy life with Miguel and his alter ego Anna, but when Rebecca died, she left a letter for my eyes only. In addition, she left her entire, very considerable, personal fortune to me. (Bob was worth ten times that, but the thought was nice - with a hidden edge.)

November 17, 2019

My dearest Mary,

Words cannot express my joy at the love Bob and you share, it is and was a rare gift that I rejoiced in. I've rejoiced in it every day of my life since the day I first laid eyes on you.

I have shared all my life and all my secrets with you save four, I am a little ashamed of them now - revenge is a two edged sword, sometimes late at night I believe Bob is correct to eschew it - but then I wake up and realize it has its place. I don't know if you even remember Susan and Jan, it has been so long ago, but I feel I must tell you their fate.

Sir Mitchell was one of my many acquaintances; he was a dominant master prominent in the San Francisco S&M scene. He is long dead, AIDS I think, but while he was alive, he was a thoroughly despicable individual. Shortly after Susan and Jan hurt Bob, it came to my attention that a bank (I happened to be on the board of directors of it) was about to foreclose on Sir Mitchell's large home and dungeon in Daly City.

To my eternal shame, I struck a deal with the devil. In return for my paying off his mortgage in advance for five years, he agreed to take the two girls into his service. In their case, he waved the normal freely given consent required of all his submissive slaves.

I was never privy to the details, but implants containing a similar drug used on Bob were placed in their bodies while still in Marsh City. Apparently willingly, but in reality under the influence of the powerful hypnotic drug, they flew to San Francisco. Once there, they were video taped signing contracts giving themselves freely to Sir Mitchell, and entered his service.

Once in his home, they were chained and to be treated no better or worse than his other slaves. I was told what follows much after the fact. Alas, soon the implants lost their potency and the girls became uncooperative in their normal duties. As a punishment, they were given continuous bathroom servitude, where I understand they were chained and used as urinals and toilet paper. Again, their foul attitude earned harsher punishment, their clits were pierced, and when this didn't improve their attitude, their clits were surgically removed. Sir Mitchell said that worked for a while, but then they attempted to escape.

Sir Mitchell was at his wits end with Susan and Jan, and since his life style was excessively expensive, he often needed 'a lot of money.' Normal work for him, was out of the question. Fortunately for Sir Mitchell, a Libyan friend, who was a brothel owner, was visiting Sir Mitchell. He indicated that he would purchase both Susan and Jan for 'a lot of money.' His only requirement was that they augment their rather small B breasts with implants, say to double D, and be neutered. Pregnant, or whores experiencing the curse, were unprofitable. He wanted it done here as the surgery was seldom successful in Libya, and most of the girls undergoing it died from infections. That was very unprofitable.

Sir Mitchell was a vindictive prick, and instructed the unlicensed plastic surgeon to intentionally sever the key nerves, so that after the operation their grand new breasts would give no pleasure to the girls, just hang heavy and be annoying in warm weather, and its always hot in Libya. During the neutering other nerves were severed making unlikely pleasure would be derived from the vagina either. So it was, that they were again implanted with the drug to make them manageable. They traveled to Libya via Egypt, to give pleasure to wealthy Libyans seeking American girls with big tits.

Some years later, when Sir Mitchell told me all about Susan and Jan's fate, my conscience began to bother me. After thinking about it for a week, I asked Sir Mitchell to buy the girls back, I would pay all expenses and give him a healthy bonus.

He immediately contacted his friend, but was given distressing news. Arab men are notoriously insensitive to the pleasure of their women (especially whores.) Sir Mitchell's friend told him that the girls exhibited a bad attitude during a party and were killed by an angry customer. He was a good client, very wealthy. The house apologized for his aggravation, and supplied two more girls at no additional charge.

Since I feel very guilty about this deed I had set in motion, you may wonder why I'm burdening you with the knowledge of it. That is very simple, my Robert's, your Bob's and presumably my grandson's disposition are quite gentle due to their dual nature. At times, they may have a loud bark, but when it comes right down to it, they are kind and considerate of others, and will not take the harsh measures that are sometimes necessary. As natural women, we have an ingrained vindictiveness, and drive to save our families at all costs, that they simply lack. We are capable of unspeakable harsh acts that while rarely necessary, are sometimes necessary. There have been three other instances, but these I take to my grave.

Mary, with my death you must take over my role of protector of last resort. I have left to you the means, may god guide your hand wisely.

Love, Rebecca