If you're under 18 or dislike Transgender stories, don't read this.

I would like to thank Anyport for his permission to write this sequel to his story, The Transformation, and use the characters he created.

I would like to thank Tigger for allowing me to include a guest appearance by his character, "Aunt" Jane Thompson. I would especially like to thank Steve Zink for editing such a very long story for me.

(This story is set in the Vaingirls universe.)
©2003 Turn Right Productions

Rose knew, of course, where Transformation Systems had been located, and where Lou and Ed both had lived. A trip to the phone book and yellow pages had shown all were still where they had been, and also discovered Joan's apartment in the Sears Tower, and where her clinic was located and what hospitals she used as need arose. Ross hadn't spent the last year only on the ultimately fruitless search for his lost manhood. Revenge had been the number two priority; now it was number one. And getting revenge meant first getting information. Early on, Ross had begun interviewing private investigators, and quite by chance had found a gem.

When Ross had first arrived in Chicago, it had, of course, been as Nikki Mitchell, female. He realized that his transition back to himself, Ross, aka Nick Mitchell, would have to be managed carefully. He did not want to draw any undo attention to him/herself that might alert the bad guys that he was around, or alert Adain and Salielah that Rose was alive. He had remembered one particular incident that had occurred in Lou's apartment.

Ed had come storming in, angry and waving a brochure; she stopped in front of the table where Ross and Lou were sitting. This had been around the time when Ross was about half way to Rose. He had looked at the time about as androgynous as he did as Nick/Nikki. Ed threw the brochure down on the table. "Damn goody two shoes amateurs!" she had exclaimed. "They wouldn't go for it, Lou!" She was obviously angry about whoever had generated the brochure.

"Damn! More work for us, then!!" Lou then turned to Ross. "Ross, honey, would you mind cleaning up in here? Ed and I have to go out for a bit."

"Sure."

"Thanks, honey. We'll bring you back a treat!" And the two women were gone, leaving the offending brochure on the kitchen table.

Alone, Ross had picked up the brochure. On the cover was a gold lipstick tube topped by bright red lipstick; it was in a gold rimmed oval, which was flanked by the letters "V" and "G" in feminine script. Underneath, also in very feminine script was the word "Vaingirls" with the subscript, "Make your feminine dreams come true!" Inside was a picture of a gorgeous raven haired young woman, more text, and some before and after pics that made Ross realize that Vaingirls was a place that changed men into women. 'Buncha sissies,' he had thought, not yet realizing that that was exactly what was being done to him. He had left the brochure on the table, and promptly forgot about it.

He had remembered Vaingirls later, and the dominant memory was that there was probably no love lost between Vaingirls and Transformation Systems. Back in Chicago, he had thought that maybe Vaingirls was just what he needed; if they could transform, maybe they could help untransform, and a company that Lou and Ed hated couldn't be all bad. He decided to check Vaingirls out.

The home of Vaingirls was an older building designed in sort of a Victorian era meets Art Deco style. It was located, appropriately, on North Halsted Street in Boystown. The entrance was a double red door. Running above it along the second floor was a balcony with a wrought iron railing; the railing ran into a semi-spiral iron staircase leading down to the sidewalk. A three foot metal shield on the balcony railing contained the Vaingirls lipstick logo. "Vaingirls" in the same feminine script as in the brochure was on the wall to the left of the red double doors in foot high letters, and the logo was on each of the doors.

On the day that Ross decided to approach Vaingirls, he had to admit that, while androgynous, he still looked more like Rose than Ross. He looked in the mirror and tried to decide whether to put the effort into looking what at best would be androgynous, or just to go as Nikki Mitchell. And then in a flash of what he would later be chagrined to admit was probably women's intuition, he just KNEW he should go as Rose, no disguise. An hour later, wearing a zebra pattern suit, white pumps, and full Rose hair and makeup, he was reaching for the handle of the right red door to Vaingirls when the left door opened violently and an extremely attractive 5'9" raven haired woman strode out, spun to her left, and slammed right into him. As he went down on his butt, he noted that the woman was wearing the exact same zebra pattern suit he was, the same white pumps, and while her hair was black and his was blonde, the style was amazingly similar. They could, he noted, be twins, one of whom had dyed her hair so that people could tell them apart.

The "other twin" reached to help him up. As she pulled him up, she got her first good look. "Oh, I am so sorry, I should have wa ... ohmygawd!"

Which was echoed by Ross's, "Ohmygawd!"

Both women, for that is what they appeared to each other, stepped back to get a good look at each other. The black haired one spoke first, holding out her hand. "Well, I guess here's where we either shake hands or scratch each other's eyes out. I'll opt for the handshake. You?"

Ross smiled, and took her hand in a feminine handshake. "Me, too. Wow, what do you think are the odds on this? Where did you get yours?" He gestured, indicating her suit. "I'm Ross." 'Whoopsi!' he thought, as soon as he said it.

"Burlington Coat Factory." (And, yes, I really did get my suit at BCF. JBS) Then, "Ross?" The other woman leaned back with a frown. She slowly looked him up and down. "You are very, very good, honey. I never would have known. But don't you have a femme name?" But then there was dawning recognition in her eyes, and Ross could only watch helplessly. "OHMYGAWD!" she exclaimed. You're ROSE!" She reached out and grabbed Ross and started pulling him into the store. "You get your butt in here, young lady! I have GOT to talk to you, and I don't think you want that out here in the middle of Halsted Street!" A stunned Ross could only allow himself to be dragged inside.

Once inside, the dark haired woman finally introduced herself, all the while pulling Ross along toward the back of the shop. " I'm Joyce, Joyce Hall, and I own this place and design most of the clothes we sell. As you probably already know, since you were obviously intending to come inside when we ... met, our primary business here is helping men get in touch with their feminine side. I know you must have a lot of questions, but come here with me to the back room, where we can take a load off and talk." She pulled Ross into what was obviously the beauty parlor portion of Vaingirls, and indicating one of the styling chairs, said, "Sit!" which Ross did, automatically smoothing his skirt under him as he did so. "Coffee?" Ross managed to nod yes.

She picked up the carafe from the coffee maker and poured into two identical black mugs with the Vaingirls' lipstick logo on them. Hers had "Joyce" written on it in very feminine script. Ross noted that there were approximately twenty similar mugs with girls' names on them hanging from a rack over the coffee maker. His mug had no name on it, just a blank space where the name would go. If he eventually acquired one, he thought, he couldn't very well have "Ross" put on it. 'Not that I'd want a Vaingirls mug, of course,' he rather too quickly mentally added.

First taking a long swig of her coffee, Joyce continued, "Girl, do you KNOW, do you have any IDEA, how much commotion your disappearance has caused? Adain Ben Hariesh is a VERY influential and VERY determined man. Everyone tells him you're dead, but he keeps on looking for you. He has run INTERPOL and the FBI ragged, searching for you. Your picture has been all over the world on the Internet ever since you disappeared, and the reward he's offering for information about you is going to make me a VERY rich woman!

At that, Ross began to panic, and started to rise from the chair preparatory to an escape attempt. Joyce reached out and placed her hand on his arm, and for some reason, he immediately calmed. "IF I choose to tell him anything, that is," she said very firmly. "My guess is that you're very very good at disguise, and at covering your tracks. My guess is that this is the first time you've actually looked like Rose since you disappeared. My guess is that since you ID'd yourself as Ross, that that is who you are, inside, at the moment, and that goes along with what little I know about Rose/Ross. Let me fill you in, and then you can either choose to go, or stay and talk further. In either case, I will not communicate with either Adain or Salielah without your permission."

"Please! Is he ... is Adain ... all right? Salielah? How does he look? I HATED to leave the way I did ..." That, of course, was Rose talking. Her concern for Adain and Salielah had allowed her to break through Ross's control momentarily.

"From what little I have seen and heard," said Joyce, leaning forward and putting her hand lightly on Rose's thigh in a feminine gesture of sympathy (she knew that had been Rose speaking), "they are both distraught over the thought of losing you. I think, my dear, you are well loved by those two."

At that, Rose broke down sobbing, and Joyce got up, came around her chair, and hugged her from behind. After a few minutes, the figure in the chair straightened, and Joyce believed she could actually see Ross regaining control. "Thank you," he said. "You know that was Rose, don't you? And you know that even though I look like her at the moment, I'm not; I'm Ross. Or ... oh, hell, sometimes I don't know who the hell I am at any given moment. Anyway, I certainly don't feel about them the way she does, but I don't hate them anymore, in fact, I'm rather fond of them. They were very good to Rose, loved her, even, and I believe their feelings were genuine. No," he went on bitterly, "my hate is reserved for others."

"Louise Edwards, Edwina Porter, and Dr. Joan Adkins?"

"Yes. The two women who at one point I thought were my best friends in the whole world, and their pet doctor," he answered, surprised. "But how did you know?"

Joyce sighed, and settled back in her chair. "Let me tell you a story."

"My mother died when I was four, and I grew up in a testosterone fueled household where my dad treated me just as he did my five brothers; I was one of the boys. While to the best of my knowledge, none of my brothers nor my father were physically abusive to women, they certainly considered them inferior, and treated them like dirt. And the worst was my youngest brother, George. George was smaller than my dad or my four other brothers, with more delicate features; I guess he, like myself, took after our mother. I guess he was meaner than the rest to compensate for that, especially after the other four were gone.

"Puberty hit when I was twelve, and by fourteen, I was having to work very hard to still appear one of the boys. It was obvious that I couldn't keep it up much longer." Here Joyce smiled. "Big butt, narrow waist, big boobs do NOT equal 'boy'!" (She didn't notice Ross look down at "his" own curvaceous figure and wince.) "Anyway, I was on the verge of running away - the only thing stopping me was that it was December and cold out - when I began to notice changes, good changes, in my brother George. He stopped swearing, he was helping with the housework, and, most amazing of all, he was being nice, almost deferential, to me. I determined to find out why.

"When I did, I was shocked. He was being blackmailed by some of the members of the cheerleading squad, because he had behaved so atrociously toward them. They had set him up, and then taken pictures that indicated he was a transvestite or, even worse, a child molester. They were slowly turning him into a swishy sissy boy that no girl in the school would want to go out with. At first I thought 'All right! He's finally getting what he deserves!' But you know what? George wasn't whining about it and adopting a sullen or defiant attitude. He was acting like he deserved it, which he did, and, ironically, 'taking it like a man', taking responsibility for his own actions. I decided that I liked the changes in his behavior, and that I would try to work with the cheerleaders, but in such a way as to make this a positive feminine experience for George. The only way I could see to do that was to get George to become not a sissy boy, but a woman, temporarily, anyway. To make a long story short, the plan worked; my brother George became my gorgeous sister Georgieanne. Today, he can be either one, although when/if you two meet, you'll probably meet my brother G.A., the lawyer.

"In the process of all this, I developed a philosophy and a goal, that I still adhere to today. I believe that pure testosterone is evil. It results in men like my father and brothers and worse - Nazi Germany, for example. I believe that femininity is a positive force that should be embraced to some degree by all people, and that almost any man cannot help but become a better man if he experiences his feminine side in a positive manner. Some men do this without ever having to put on a dress or wear makeup - the influence of their mothers or sisters, I believe - some men experience it by voluntarily putting on a dress and makeup, the crossdressers and transvestites, and some men, like my brother, need the firm hand of a woman to guide them into experiencing it, whether they desire it or not. If, however, my brother had been left to the tender mercies of his cheerleader tormentors, without my intervention, I believe he would have been miserable for life. The difference? They were out for revenge, and I was out to help my brother; they were out to punish, I was out to rehabilitate.

"I knew that I could not stay at home pretending to be a boy any longer, and I knew that once George came out as Georgie, he couldn't stay; Dad would have killed him. SO, we headed here to Chicago, and I, with Georgie Ann's help - I was only fourteen, after all - started Vaingirls to help men experience their feminine sides in a positive, nurturing or rehabilitative manner."

She leaned forward and placed her hand on his thigh again. "Rose ... Ross, please believe me. We care about our clients, voluntary or involuntary. We won't take an involuntary client until we've investigated and determined for ourselves that we really can help him by making him become her temporarily. While we do use humiliation sometimes, we don't use it vindictively or for our own pleasure. We try to weed out the ones who WANT to be humiliated. I'm not condemning them, it's just that there are other places for them. Whatever we do, we do with the goal of creating a better person, whether that PERSON chooses to stay a woman, go back to being a man, or, like my brother, go back and forth between the two. While we do - greatly - enjoy making money, we are not in this to make a huge fortune; we even give 'scholarships' if needed. DAMMIT, we HELP people! We DON'T take advantage of them for money or our own sadistic desires! Louise, Edwina, and Joan do.

"Vaingirls has been here for fifteen years; in that time, we have built a reputation both in the so called normal community, and in the TG community. Just two years ago, we had a father whom we had helped fourteen years ago bring in his eighteen-year-old son. Anyway, about three years ago, I was approached by Edwina Porter. She explained that part of the work her employer's company, Transformation Systems, did, transforming troubled young men into women to allow them to experience their feminine sides, was very similar to what we were doing here at Vaingirls. She explained that they were getting overloaded, and that her employer, Ms. Edwards, would like to meet with me in regard to a possible merger.

"I smelled a rat immediately; it didn't seem to me that a company like Transformation Systems, nominally a computer software business, could be in the feminization business without at least some hint of that leaking out. I agreed to a meeting the next week, and called my lawyer brother G.A. - Georgie Ann, remember? He put me in touch with a top flight private investigator right here in Chicago, Barbara Dahal." Joyce held up her hand in a "stop" motion, as Ross opened his mouth and started to say something. "Don't even THINK that. NOBODY calls her THAT, even in private, if they value their lives! She'll find out.

"I met with Barbara. She looks just like her unnamable namesake, by the way. She says it's a curse. She said she tried to make herself look different, but it was too much trouble. Now she dresses the part, and dares anyone to mention it!" Joyce chuckled at the memory, and then got serious again. "You'll meet her, I hope. She agreed to look into Transformation Systems for me.

"Two months later, she presented me with a detailed report. On the side, Louise and Edwina were running a feminization service, supplying beautiful shemales with special talents, mostly, but not all, sexual, for Dr. Joan Adkins' shemale slave auction. They were using their company - Edwina is actually a silent partner, even though she appears as Louise's secretary - as a recruitment device; the recruits of course, did not know they were being recruited. I was appalled. This went against everything in which I believed. SLAVERY, for God's sake! It was also, of course, highly illegal. I mentioned that, but Barbara informed me that Dr. Adkins was extremely clever, and seemed to have kept what she did within the letter of the law. Ross, do you remember signing any papers while you were with Louise and Edwina? Think about it; I bet you did, and I bet it was under circumstances where you signed without reading what you were signing, right? You see, Ross, Barbara also found out that you were Lou and Ed's current project. On Barbara and G.A.'s advice, when Edwina called me to confirm my next meeting with Louise, I told her I couldn't make it, and that I didn't think a merger would be good for me right now, pleading my desire to make it on my own. I tried to leave the door open for a future meeting, but Ed got mad and stormed out.

"Barbara and I were trying to develop a plan to save you and put those three away for a long, long time, but you were sold before we could do anything. So, as far as we can tell, there have been three other men involuntarily feminized by Lou and Ed and sold into slavery since you, and we don't know how many others contributed to Joan's little auctions by other feminizing agents. That's where we are currently. We still don't have enough to go to the police, but we're hoping for a breakthrough; I think I should just go ahead and shoot the FUCKERS!" Joyce slammed her fists down on the coffee table in frustration.

This time it was Ross who put his hand on Joyce's thigh in a calming gesture of sympathy. It was a very feminine thing to do; Ross didn't really realize yet how much of Rose had been internalized, and almost impossible to unlearn. "That would be too good for them, Joyce," he said. "They have got to be punished. Look at me. I don't know whether I CAN go back to being me or not. That's why I came here today, to see if you could help me get back to me. I was present when Ed and Lou had an angry discussion about you - it must have been right after you refused to meet with Louise - and I figured anyone they disliked might be able and willing to help me. It's not that I really disliked being Rose, no, not at all. I would have stayed Rose forever for them; they were my best friends, and I loved them! I would have stayed Rose forever for Adain, and for Salielah, too, except that ..." And here Ross told Joyce of his unintended escape. "So, you see, I had to give me the chance to be me again, and I have ..." he leaned forward with quiet intensity "... to get these guys. How about we join forces?"

The woman who had been to all intents and purposes a male for ten years while growing up and the man who still looked very much like a woman looked into each others' eyes. At the same time, they both reached out and gripped each other's hands in a very testosterone driven handshake.

The next week, Ross got to meet the other Vaingirls, Bethany, Elizabeth, and Jessica, as well as Jessica's dad, Steve, Joyce's former client; he was 6'5" tall, and weighed two hundred, fifty pounds, all muscle. Until he showed Ross a picture of "Stephanie", Ross just couldn't believe that he could have made a convincing Vaingirl. Seeing that picture, Ross's opinion of Joyce as a miracle worker was a thousand percent reinforced. Jessica must have taken after "her" mother, as she was 5'5" tall and one hundred, fifteen pounds, at most. All three transgendered Vaingirls were utterly believable, gorgeous women. Bethany, a slender 5'7" brunette, who was Vaingirl's makeup and nails expert, was perfectly happy as a full time T-girl, while red headed Elizabeth, the oldest (Joyce had admitted that both Elizabeth and Bethany were older than she, "But don't tell them that, dear.") was planning to have sexual reassignment surgery next year; she was a genius with hair, and at a statuesque six feet, towered over her 5'7" fiancee, Stewart. Jessica, a blonde Marilyn Monroe double, could sell iceboxes to Eskimos - particularly if they were male - and was an excellent seamstress; even though she was the youngest of the girls; she ran the boutique end of Vaingirls. She hadn't decided yet, but, while originally an unwilling participant in the Vaingirls program, she admitted she was now having a ball, and loved everything about being a girl: "Especially a girl without periods, hon!" she had related, giggling, to Ross.

He also met Barbara Dahal, and immediately fell in total awe of her. She DID look just like Barbie, but he was VERY careful to call her at first Ms. Dahal, and later Barbara, and to NOT stare at her chest. In appearance, she reminded him of the girls who always walked into Philip Marlowe's office at the start of every novel - 'She moved around my desk like Jello on springs; every swivel of her hips made me feel like I'd just got off the Tilt-A- Whirl.' But in personality, character, and ability, she reminded him of Marlowe himself. He soon came to the conclusion that he would trust this woman to guard his back anytime. He also decided that he would be VERY careful not to make her mad at him!

He met G.A., and liked him in spite of his being a lawyer, but he had not had an opportunity yet to meet Georgieanne.

It was the consensus of them all that he get on with the job of trying to resurrect himself, and leave the investigation of "The Bad Guys" to them.

That's what he had done, receiving periodic reports, the last of which had been two months ago, while he was still Ross. Now, Rose placed a call to Joyce. Luckily, G.A. and Steve were in town, and Barbara was free, so she was able to arrange a meeting for the next morning. She had spoken to Joyce in Ross's voice, deciding to surprise The Group with her decision to be Rose. 'I'm going to buy the frilliest, femininest clothes I can find!' she thought, not caring at all that "femininest" wasn't a real word. As she grabbed her wallet and headed for the office door, she thought ahead: 'I'm gonna knock their socks off!' She clenched her fist, raised and cocked her arm, and swiftly brought it down. 'YES!'

Louise Edwards, behind her Art Deco desk in her office at Transformation Systems, leaned back in her designer chair, set down her cup of coffee - black, regular, thank you - and looked with satisfaction through her open door at her secretary seated at his desk in the outer lobby. Not "his" much longer - Robert, now responding almost automatically to Robbie, was coming along quite nicely.

She and her partner, Edwina Porter, had almost drooled when Robert Saunders had applied for the job as Louise's personal assistant and secretary. Both ladies believed that it indicated a certain, shall we say, less than masculine mind set for a man to apply for a secretarial job, even in these enlightened days of the new millennium; anything to the contrary was just feminist propaganda, they believed. So, even though at 6'1" and two hundred, twenty- five pounds he was larger than their usual "project," they believed that he, with his androgynous facial features and long honey blonde hair, would be a natural for their special "Big Beautiful Woman" program. They hired him on the spot.

They had instantly agreed that Robert was the best since Ross, and that with the proper guidance, "Robbie" could bring in as much or more than Rose had through their friend Joan's little auction. There had been three men turned into "ladies with something extra" since Ross/Rose, but, while each had turned a nice profit for Lou and Ed, none had brought in anywhere near what Rose had.

She smiled as she watched Ed approach Robbie, and whisper something in his ear. Robbie's smile lit up the room, and he unconsciously reached up and patted his hair in a feminine gesture that every woman since Eve had used at one time or another. The day before they had cajoled Robbie into having his hair done at their favorite salon - "Just a trim, hon," they had told him, "you're looking a little ragged." The stylist had done a lot more than just a trim. She had set his straight blonde hair in rollers and then combed it out into a wavy, obviously feminine style, adding highlights; Lou and Ed, sitting on either side of him, had used their hands to make sure that he enjoyed himself and associated the process with sensual pleasure. At the same time, they had joked and kidded with him so that he felt that what was being done was being done in the spirit of good fun among friends. When they'd left, besides his new hairdo, his fingernails and toenails had been shiny with clear polish; they still were.

This was coming along almost too easily! His hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail, but what a different ponytail! Instead of being straight, greasy, and lank, the hair was curled, full and shiny. With those curled bangs he hadn't realized he couldn't make go away, he looked adorable. All the dumb blonde jokes, Lou thought, had been proven by the fact that they had been able this morning to convince him he still looked masculine!

Ha!

Ed left Robbie and came into Lou's office, closing the door behind her. "I put the order in for the Rolls today," she said, dropping into the seat across from Lou and crossing her shapely legs. Both brunettes were in their mid-thirties, but still looked like twenty-something; but, then, they'd spent a lot - A LOT - of money to look that way. "The dealer told me a two months wait; ought to have the cash from Sissy out there just about that time. He's a sweetie, and very soon she'll be a sweetie, and then we clean up! Almost as much as for Rose, I'm thinking."

Lou laughed. "You and I make a great team, Ed. Watching you two just now, I was thinking the same thing. I think he actually likes his new hair; sure doesn't seem very embarrassed about it. He may even be more of a natural than Rose."

"AND," commented Ed, "he's even more fun in bed. He's rather well hung, don't you think? More so than Rose, even. AND I actually enjoy his company out of bed. Just like we did with Rose. I actually have missed Rose from time to time. I often wonder how she's getting on with Adain."

"Me, too." Lou leaned back and took another sip of her coffee. She waved at the pot, and Ed got up and poured herself a cup. As she added cream and sugar, Lou shook her head. "When are you going to stop with the sissy coffee, and drink it straight like a real woman!"

"Ooh, aren't we butch today!" laughed Ed, smoothing her gray skirt under her as she sat. "I still chuckle every time I think of that last Friday night with Rose." She took a sip.

"Joan said they really scared the hell out of her, after we left!" Lou smiled.

"And getting Adain and Salielah to play along was a stroke of genius," added Ed. "Sure made her be Joan's good girl, though, and brought in some extra green for us." She paused. "Might have been interesting, though, to see poor ROSS" - she deliberately used the male name - "with triple-G breasts and a harelip!"

Both women laughed. "Oh, you are the nasty one, Ed. Ross was a really nice guy, and we had a lot of fun with him and later with Rose. I, for one, hope he's happy with Adain and Salielah. I haven't heard anything since Joan's report of her six weeks follow up call to Adain. Both he and Salielah were happy with her at that time." She lifted her coffee mug. "Here's to Rose. You made us a bundle, girl; I hope you're happy!"

Clinking her cup with Lou's, Ed responded, "To Rose - and, for another couple of mil for us, to Robbie!"

Out in the lobby, Robbie took a mirror from her - for that's how she was thinking of herself now - drawer and looked at her face and hair. She LOVED her new hair! And it didn't cost her a penny! It was so nice to have two sugar momma's like Lou and Ed; they were a lot of fun, were teaching her a lot of girl stuff, and they paid for just about everything! She hoped they'd start teaching her makeup soon, and she couldn't wait to get boobs and get into skirts and dresses.

She had realized right from the first pair of panties what Lou and Ed were up to, and she'd sensed immediately on the first silky touch that this was what she was meant to be. Good-bye, Robert! She was playing along with the frustrating slow pace, because she liked Lou and Ed and didn't want to spoil their fun. She sensed that they liked it if she appeared a little reluctant and scared, but it was hard to pretend that.

She had come across the word "shemale" on the Internet just the other day, and had immediately felt an affinity with that title. She knew that Lou and Ed were slipping her hormones, and had even checked with her doctor on the sly to make sure they would give her a respectable bustline and hips without affecting her sexually. Those two sly tricksters! She'd just play along as if she didn't know what was going on. She glanced around. No one was watching, so she reached up and let her fingertips gently brush her just recently sensitive nipples, and soon was in the throws of an intense female orgasm. She knew tonight she would experience both that, and a male orgasm. No nasty operation "down there" for her; she was gonna have the best of both worlds! ... Wasn't she?

The only worry she had was her size. She was going to be a BIG girl, and, even though she thought she would be cute, she was smart enough to realize that self perception could be deceiving. What if she turned out to be an ugly girl, an unpassable girl? She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, took another admiring look in her compact mirror, and got back to work.

She'd have a few glasses of White Zinfandel at the Wine Bar after work to give her a little buzz for the evening's activities.

Dr. Joan Adkins entered her luxury Sears Tower apartment. She slipped out of her coat, letting it fall to the floor, kicking off her shoes at the same time. As she passed into the living room, she undid her scarf, pulled it off and dropped it on the coffee table, then headed to the bar. She poured herself a double of Jack Daniels, neat, downed it in one swift movement, and poured herself another, this time adding several ice cubes. She carried this one over to her favorite chair and set it on the small tray table to her right. The table was a tray held by a three foot buxom young lady in a French Maid's outfit. Looking at it, she chuckled; she had seen it in the window of The Bombay Company last year, and had purchased it because it reminded her of the fate of many of her "special girls."

She herself treasured Yvonne, her own maid. Yvonne was a real woman, and a maid by choice; she was well paid, and Joan considered her worth every penny. While Joan would have relished the opportunity to dominate and humiliate one of her forced shemale maids, she did not give in to temptation. She did not want one of her creations so close to her that there might be questions asked, connections made. There was small chance of that, she believed, but why take chances at all? Besides, for what she could make from one of her pets, she could hire fifty Yvonnes, even well paid as Yvonne was.

Joan relaxed, and sank into her chair. She sighed. Three boob jobs and one eye job today. The boobs were easy, but the eye job had been tricky and had taken five hours - a twelve hour day. All legitimate, though; none of the fun of putting an unwilling male under the knife!

Damn, Yvonne had her time off at the most inconvenient times! Normally, she would have been greeted at the door with a drink while her coat and scarf would have been taken and immediately hung up. She reached forward wearily and pulled her laptop off the coffee table into, where else, her lap. She flipped it open and immediately went to her secure e-mail site. There was one e-mail; it was from Transformation Systems, and had an attached photo.

Dear Joan, Robbie is coming along nicely, as you can see by the attached pic taken by hidden camera. We actually all had a good time getting his hair done yesterday. Isn't it lovely - and he still thinks he looks masculine! Are we good, or what?! Ed and I both think the end of next month; we think she should bring as much or more than Rose did. Hugs, Lou

Joan rather liked Lou and Ed, in a business sort of way. They took the same kind of pleasure in reducing their masculine prey into demure, submissive shemales as she did, and were just as ruthless. And they always produced quality goods. Sometimes they got a little overconfident, as this e-mail seemed to indicate, but she could deal with that. All-in-all, it was a good partnership. And Robbie WAS pretty, and with a little help from her, would be gorgeous. Yes, she should bring a pretty penny, and she had buyers lined up ready to bid for her. Maybe she should contact Adain Ben Hariesh; there had been no word on Rose, and he might be looking for a replacement. She pulled a small pad of paper over, and jotted down a memo to herself.

Feeling much refreshed, Joan closed the laptop, picked up the latest issue of Oprah's magazine, and lost herself in banality for a short while. She found herself humming "Take a Walk on the Wild Side."

As he did every day, although with decreasing hope each time, Adain logged on to the special site dedicated to the search for Rose. Nothing. He really hadn't expected anything; it had been over a year now, after all, but he just couldn't give up hope. Rose had changed his life in so many ways, all for the good, and he had fallen in love with her. When he had started out with her for the hospital that day, all that had been running through his mind had been, *What if she dies? What if she dies?* And she had, and he blamed himself.

He had been meaning to have his engineers check the bridge over the gorge. Several visitors had remarked on how it had swayed when they drove over it. He just hadn't gotten around to it, and it had collapsed on that fateful day. He suspected that the extra weight of the armor plate and bulletproof glass on the Mercedes had done it. His father had ordered it in the bad old days when his country had been wracked by unrest, and anybody rich had been a target. Times had changed, and normally he never used it. On that day, however, it happened to be the first car he reached, and haste was uppermost in his mind.

As the car slid off the collapsing bridge, he, not having taken the time to fasten his seatbelt, had been thrown clear. He had managed to twist himself into dive position and hit the water cleanly; Allah be praised, it had been deep at that point. After that he'd had to fight just to keep himself alive, and he had finally lost consciousness believing he was going to die. He awoke to Salielah giving him mouth to mouth resuscitation on the river bank about half a mile downstream from the bridge. His first word had been, "Rose?"

Salielah had told him that there was no sign of Rose. Later that same day, the car had been dragged from the river, and, of course, there had been no body in it. In the weeks and months that followed, they had launched and directed a massive search effort, but there had been no word. Rose was missing, presumed dead.

They had refused to give up. Adain had contacted Dr. Adkins and gotten a picture of Ross, and that and Rose's picture had been put out on the Internet. Rewards had been offered. Nothing. And Adain was on the point of closing down the www.rosereward.com site.

Salielah came into the room to see her beloved brother sitting at the computer, head in hands. She came up behind him and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "I miss her, too," she said softly, "but it's time. Pull the plug, Ad. We'll treasure the memories of the time we had with her."

With a sigh, Adain typed in the command that deleted the site. But just as he was reaching to execute the command, the beep that indicated incoming mail went off, a beep that, on that setting, could indicate e-mail from only a handful of people who had access to their secure site. It usually meant "Open this right NOW!" Adain opened the message; it was short and succinct:

"Dainie?" Huge smiles of joy appeared on the faces of Adain and Salielah as they turned to face each other. Only one person not in that room knew about Dainie. Rose! They hugged. Rose was alive! They pulled apart, and the smiles faded. Rose was alive, but needed their help. Salielah turned toward the door. "You get the tickets. I'll pack for us." Adain nodded, and began typing as Salielah went to pack. Rose was alive

To be continued...