Part V

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

Jessica closed her mouth with a gulp, pulled herself together and, giving a wave to the incredibly gorgeous woman who was also her father, she followed Joyce. As she entered Joyce's office, she saw Rose seated at Joyce's desk. Joyce herself went to stand behind Rose to her left, and immediately began reading some papers on the desk over her shoulder. Standing to the right side of the desk, eyes cast demurely down, hands folded in front of her, was a rather pretty woman - girl, really - that Jessica did not immediately recognize. She was dressed in a rather plain knee length navy blue dress with white Peter Pan collar and white cuffs. Black hose, black flats, small black button earrings and a plain ring resembling a wedding band completed, except for two items, her outfit. What set her apart from the other women in the room was the white apron with ruffled trim and the white ruffle headpiece she wore in her curly black hair. Who was she?? This certainly was a day for surprises, thought Jessica. 'I didn't know Rose had a maid.' And then it hit, and for the third time, Jessica's mouth dropped open. 'OHMYGAWD, that's Dainie!' Adain Ben Hariesh, suave debonair MALE billionaire, was a thoroughly feminine female looking maid!

Rose smiled. "Jess, you look like you could use a drink. Iced tea, as usual?"

Still tongue tied, Jessica could only nod.

"You need anything, sis?" Rose turned her attention to Joyce, who shook her head no, and held up her hand in an "I'm fine" gesture. "Dainie," she said, turning to the new maid, "please bring Miss Jessica a glass of iced tea, lemon and two sugars, please, bring two diet Cokes, one with ice and one without, as Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bethany will be joining us, and bring me a Jack Daniels double, straight up." She turned dismissively, and spoke smilingly to Jessica and Joyce. "Some of Ross's habits I kept."

With a, "Yes, ma'am," and a curtsy, Dainie left the room.

Rose turned to Jessica. "She's really very good. She'll remember your drink preference from now on." At Jessica's confused look, she laughed. "Oh, Jess, this has been your day for shocks, hasn't it! Go get Liz and Beth, will you, and I'll explain it all to the three of you. They've already met the new Dainie, but I didn't have a chance to fill them in on what's going on, either. We're finally going to get those bitches!"

An hour later, a much more knowledgeable Jessica picked up the phone to make a call. She smiled. The Three Bitches, she thought, were about to find out they'd pissed off the wrong ladies! And she was one of those ladies, she would have a part to play! The little bit of her that was still Jay shuddered and gave up the ghost; Jessica was 100% woman now, where it counted, in her heart!

Joan hung up the phone. One of what she liked to think of as "Dr. Adkin's Rules for Having It All ... And Keeping It" was, "Always expect the unexpected", but this had thrown even her for somewhat of a loop. Rose was still alive! Not only alive, but here in Chicago and wanting to meet with her! To give her subconscious a few moments to sort out what she'd just discovered, she got up, went to the coffee maker and started to pick up the coffee pot and her cup. 'Nuh uh,' she thought. 'This calls for something stronger!'

Putting the pot back, she bent down. The derriere she thus presented to anyone who would have the nerve to open her door unannounced (very few would, and they would regret it) was unenhanced by any support undergarments, and was still firm and shapely despite her forty plus years. As she straightened up, one could tell the same about her waist and breasts. She wore very little makeup, and her face remained virtually unlined; there was no gray in the lustrous black hair that fell in waves to her shoulder blades.

In her hand was a bottle of Jack Daniels, and she poured at least a double shot into her coffee cup. She downed it in one gulp as if it were water, and then poured herself another which she carried back to her desk. As she passed the full length mirror on the back of her office door, she gave herself an over-all look see and whistled. 'Not bad for an old broad,' she thought. 'Must be clean living.' People would have noticed an evil twist to her laugh. She settled back into her chair, kicked her heels off, and put her feet up on the desk. She was now in what she thought of as her "thinking position". As she let the conclusions reached by her subconscious surface, she slowly sipped the Jack Daniels.

After packing her off with Adain Ben Hariesh, Joan had never expected to be contacted by Rose. She had, however, thought she might be contacted by Adain. She had noticed a certain hint of inner strength in Ross the first time she had met him the time Louise and Ed had brought him in for a checkup when the hormones first kicked in. While she hadn't seen it in Rose; she had only met her once, that last Friday. Still, there had been a nagging doubt as to her complete subjugation, for she seemed to have given in too easily. Joan, being a pragmatist herself, had put that down to Rose making the best of a bad situation. What would she do when alone with Adain and Salielah?

Adain had not called, though, and when Joan had contacted him for her usual six weeks checkup - Joan liked to think of the first six weeks as her warranty period - Adain had raved about Rose and how happy he was with her, no problems at all. Salielah had commented on how well Rose was taking to her household duties.

Joan had expected that to be the last of Rose. Secretly, in what passed for her heart, Joan hoped Rose was happy; she had instantly taken a liking to the girl - and she had definitely been a girl - she had met that Friday night. She had been glad to be convinced that Rose had made the sensible decision, that she did not have to make Rose deformed or ugly. Thus, two years later, when Adain had contacted her telling her of Rose's accident and asking if she had any word of her, she had been hoping to find the girl alive and had instigated a line of inquiry. That line had dried up, however, and up till fifteen minutes ago, she believed Rose to be dead.

She wasn't. She was at Vaingirls. She hadn't been told that, but she had recognized Jessica's voice. Joan made it her business to know as much as possible about anything that went down among Chicago's transgendered community. It was good for business. In fact, Joan had quite a good reputation among transsexuals, not just in Chicago, but worldwide; her TG slavery operations (medical and business) remained, of course, secret. She had few complaints and a great deal of praise, public and private, from her cosmetic surgery clients, whether male, female, or transgendered. Her transsexual SRS clients raved about the intensity and number of the orgasms they achieved through "Dr. Adkins' vagina". She was, she acknowledged with no false modesty, what virtually everyone else said was true: she was, simply, the best in the business.

Joan was neutral about Vaingirls. She knew Louise and Edwina hated Joyce, but that was because Lou and Ed had made mistakes in handling her. Joan had met Joyce and the others casually on several occasions, and their relations had been pleasant. The fact that Rose was staying there, therefore, did not by itself raise any danger flags, but there were so many unanswered questions.

'Why did she contact me?' she had thought at first. 'By all logic, she should hate my guts.' Yet, when she had mentioned that, Jessica had assured her that while she did not know why Rose wanted a meeting, Rose HAD told her that, "she harbors no animosity toward you."

Joan had agreed to the meeting because she wanted to hear Rose's story, but she would take precautions; she hadn't gotten to where she was by trusting people. The meeting was in a week, so she had time to put some safeguards in place. Safeguards in addition to her friends Smith and Wesson, which she kept in her upper right hand desk drawer.

As she sat there, she debated on whether to tell Lou and Ed that Rose was back, and about the meeting. She decided not to. While she rather liked them, kindred spirits and all that, her relationship with the two was strictly a business relationship, at least in her view, and she gave them information on a "need to know" basis. She was not yet sure they needed to know about this. For one thing, Joan had a nose for money, and she thought there might be money, Ben Hariesh money so quite a lot of it, in this. No need to share before she determined she had to.

She reached forward to push the intercom button to summon Robbie and get the ball rolling to prepare for the meeting. She had borrowed Robbie for the week from Lou and Ed, because her own receptionist/secretary was on vacation, and also so she could evaluate "his" progress in light of her plans for him. She thought "his" in quotes, because it was obvious that under Lou and Ed's manipulation, Robert was progressing nicely. Oh, there were still some rough edges. Robbie, at 6'1", barefoot, two hundred, twenty- five pounds, size 11 feet was a big girl, and would have to be ultra feminine to be convincing. To go ultra femme at that size without crossing the line to drag queen was tricky, and she wondered how Lou and Ed would manage it.

Before she could push the button though, there was a light tapping on her door. She pulled her feet off the desk and felt around with them for her heels. She found them and, with some toe gymnastics, managed to get them on; then she sat up straight, folded her hands on her desk, pulled on her professional look, and called, "Come in."

When the door opened, Joan got her second surprise of the day. "R- o-o-bbie???"

Robbie was NOT wearing her usual androgynous outfit, nor was her hair in the usual androgynous hairstyle. There were no androgynous shoes or accessories, and the little feminine touches were gone. They'd been replaced by BIG feminine touches. SHE - and, Joan realized, it was definitely she - from the top down, had her hair in a short but definitely feminine style; its natural blonde coloring was enhanced by darker highlights. Her face was immaculately made up, but she had done it in a normal daytime office look such as any working woman would do. She wore a lovely lilac colored shirtwaist dress that reached slightly below her knees. Her nails matched her lip color, and extended the exact length to be both fashionable and serviceable in an office. Her shoes were a lilac match for her dress, and had sensible two-inch heels. A simple gold chain necklace, small gold hoop earrings, a few conservative bracelets, and a Betty Boop watch, a concession to individuality, completed the ensemble. It was very definitely a woman who stood before Joan, and the thoughts 'BIG girl' or 'Drag Queen' never entered Joan's mind.

Looking serious and businesslike, the new girl spoke. "Good morning, Dr. Adkins." And then she couldn't contain herself anymore; a big smile broke out on her face, and she twirled. "You like?"

Joan did like; she liked very much. The dollar signs climbing she liked, and she experienced a moment of deja-vu. Her mind flashed to the scene from a Friday night almost two years ago, when she had first seen Ross fresh from the salon. "They're right, Joan, underneath all this I AM Ross, but I certainly don't feel like Ross tonight. Tonight, please call me Rose." She knew at that moment that he, at least for that evening, had surrendered to being totally Rose, and she had had that dollar signs climbing feeling that night, too.

She just knew Adain would pay whatever she asked, and he had. With Rose it had been her delight in her friendship with Lou and Ed, her knowledge that they had a surprise planned for her that night, that had spurred her to 150% transition. Obviously, something had had the same effect on Robert, as HE had obviously and almost certainly voluntarily crossed the line from androgyny to womanhood, and SHE loved it.

"I DO like, Robbie, in fact, I LOVE your new look. You look just the perfect receptionist/secretary, girl - and I do mean Girl, with a capital 'G'. What happened to Robert, the young man I was borrowing from my friends Lou and Ed?" She waved toward the chair in front of her desk. "Sit! Tell Auntie Joan all about it!"

Smoothing her skirt under herself in an entirely graceful and feminine manner, Robbie sat. "Well, Dr. Adk-"

"Call me Joan, dear. You are officially off duty for the duration of your story."

"Well, Joan. You know how fond I am of Louise and Edwina. They have been so nice to me, giving me a job and all, and they are the best friends I have here in Chicago. I've known for some time now that they like me to be feminine, and that they've been trying to ease me into becoming a girl, to trick me into it, so to speak. They don't know that I realize what's going on. They also don't know ..." here she gave a big smile and threw her hands up and out and then in to muss her hair in the old Marlo Thomas "That Girl" gesture of pure feminine exuberance, "... that I LOVE it! They've been having so much fun with their little games, and I like them so much, that I couldn't bring myself to admit it to them and spoil their fun. But a friend of mine, Stephanie, that I met at The Wine Bar, a little place on Rosco that I stop at occasionally, encouraged me to surprise them and jump completely over the androgynous step."

Joan struggled to suppress her surprise. Robbie KNEW! A little panic arose, but she suppressed it; apparently he ... she ... didn't know EVERYTHING. She knew they were feminizing him, and she liked it! Well, whatever this Stephanie was doing for Robbie certainly seemed to be falling in with her plans, and she knew Lou and Ed would be overjoyed. They were, if anything, even greedier than she was. Maybe, though, she ought to find out a bit more about this Stephanie. "Well, Robbie, I would certainly say that this Stephanie is an excellent influence on you. Tell me about her."

Robbie leaned forward excitedly. "Oh, Joan, she was just what I needed. You know that I'm big for a girl, and my one worry was that I would make an ugly girl. Lou and Ed and you are all at least five inches shorter than I, and I outweigh all of you considerably, and my feet are large, and ... Well, I was moping about that one day at the Wine Bar, seated by myself in a booth, when this incredibly beautiful BIG older woman came over. Not fat, big. She was even bigger than I, at least 6'5", and probably two hundred fifty pounds, but there was nothing remotely masculine about her. She just slid right in opposite me. 'Hi', she said, 'my name's Stephanie, what's yours?' Well, of course, I said, 'Robert,' and then she knocked my socks off; she said, 'No, dear, I mean your femme name, your real name.'

"You could have knocked me over with a feather! She had seen right through my androgynous look; she saw my soul! My jaw must have hit the table, because she giggled, and put one of her perfectly manicured hands over mine which were folded on the table top. 'Takes one to know one, dear.' Double shock; Stephanie was a guy!? 'No way,' I'd thought, 'not she; she's gorgeous!' She must have read my expression. She smiled and told me she was a 'T-girl', transgendered. A pre-op transsexual. She said she had seen me come in, and had noted my size and also my androgynous look - she used the term sissy look, but she said it in a nice way, like there was nothing wrong with that. And somehow, she said, she had just known, been certain enough to come over and talk to me. She had seen that I looked like my dog had just died, bet herself that I didn't have a dog, and decided to see if she could help. 'We big girls have to stick together,' she told me.

"And suddenly, there I was, pouring my story out to this total stranger! How I felt so good about what Lou and Ed were doing to me, how I was going along and letting them think they were tricking me. But I also told her about my fears of never being able to pass because of my size, or worse yet, being able to pass, but only as an ugly woman. Her comment was, 'Been there, done that, hon.' And she told me her story. That she had been an out- of-control rowdy as a boy, destined for juvie or worse, death in a gang war or some such. As a last resort, his parents had had him feminized, 'petticoat punishment' they called it. They sent him to live with this woman he referred to as 'Aunt Jane' out East someplace. HE hated it, but SHE left after six months loving it. After that he lived some as HE, some as SHE, finally married as HE and he and his wife had a son. His wife died several years ago, the son was grown and gone, so SHE came back and decided to stay.

"Over the past couple of weeks, we've gotten to be really good friends. When I told her that I would be working for you this week, she suggested that I go all out girl and try out my new look on you before springing it on Lou and Ed. She said that as a medical professional, you could be trusted to answer my questions, and give me an honest critique. Can I really be a girl? A pretty one? Or am I just fooling myself, will my size always make me a freak?

"She helped me put together this outfit, but I did my own hair, nails, and makeup, and here I am, and oh, Dr. Adkins ... Joan ... I feel sooooo GOOD, like this is how I was meant to be!" Robbie sat up straight, and looked Joan straight in the eye. "Am I a woman? Or is this ..." she gestured at herself, "... all a big ..." she verbally underscored 'Big, "... joke?"

The dollar signs were as big as the Hancock building, and glittered like diamonds! 'This is better than Rose!' thought Joan, as she got up and went around the desk. 'This is, finally, my own private island in the Caribbean!' She pulled Robbie up out of her chair, and gave her the biggest hug she was capable of. "Oh, my dear, you are woman with a capital 'W'! Welcome, Robbie, welcome to womanhood. You are going to knock Lou and Ed's socks off!" And the two women cried in each other's arms, one crying from happiness, the other from greed.

After a few moments, Joan untangled herself, stepped back and pulled some Kleenex from the box on her desk. She handed half of it to Robbie, saying, "Oh, dear, we are both going to have to go to the ladies' for repair work before we can be seen in public again."

Robbie looked at Joan, eyes shining. "Oh, thank you, Joan! To have you, who have made so many women beautiful, validate me as a woman, an attractive woman, means so much!" She visibly pulled herself together, dabbing at her eyes with the Kleenex. "I was going to wait till you called for me, but I looked in the mirror, and just couldn't wait. I suppose I had better actually BE what I appear to be, and ask what I can do for you today."

Joan pulled her purse out of the right hand middle drawer of her desk, opened it and pulled out her wallet; she extracted her Discover card. "What you can do for me, my dear, after you repair yourself, is go shopping! Buy yourself a knockout evening gown and all accessories. I am going with you tonight when you show your new, true, self to Lou and Ed, dressed to the nines. I wouldn't miss it for the world! Now, sit back down and give me just a minute."

Joan dialed her salon and asked for Marci, the proprietor. "Marci, this is Joan Adkins. I have a friend who needs a complete make over, the works, ASAP; can you take her later today? What!? Oh, Marci, I'm so sorry. No, no, you go ahead. I'll make other arrangements." She explained to Robbie. "Robbie, you did an excellent job yourself on your hair and makeup, but we really want to knock those two tricksters for a loop, so I was going to have Marci give you the works. She, however, was just closing up; her Grandmother is sick, and the hospital just called telling her she's really needed there. BUT, don't despair; let me think." And then Joan remembered the call from Jessica. 'Vaingirls! Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone!' she thought, as she picked up the phone again and dialed. 'Robbie, you are about to become a spy!'

As Robbie left Dr. Adkin's office, with Joan's Discover card in her purse and a 3:00pm appointment with Bethany and Elizabeth, she was smiling. Her thoughts, however, were not the happy girlish thoughts that Joan assumed they were. 'I know she's a royal bitch,' she thought, 'but what an actress! Bette Davis must be applauding in her grave!' Robbie KNEW. EVERYTHING. And she, like Rose before her, was PISSED! She thought back to a month ago.

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Her meeting with Stephanie at the Wine Bar was as she had described it to Joan, and over the next two weeks they had become good friends, as also told to Joan. She had told Lou and Ed about her new friend, and Lou and Ed appeared happy for her. They had even invited Stephanie over to "play", but Stephanie had been busy, promising "some other time". Then, one Friday, things had changed.

When Robbie entered the bar, Stephanie had been seated at the bar, not in their usual booth. When she saw Robbie, she got up and intercepted her. "Robbie, do you trust me?" she had asked.

Without even thinking, Robbie answered, "Of course I do, Steph. What's up?"

Stephanie took her arm, and began to lead her out of the bar. "I want you to come with me and meet someone, and I want you to please, please, please keep an open mind as she tells you some truths you're not going to want to hear."

Stephanie was, of course, taking her to Vaingirls to meet with Rose. Robbie had heard of Vaingirls, but not favorably, as his information came from Lou and Ed. When they had parked and started walking up Halsted, and Robbie had realized where they were headed, she started to pull away. "Vaingirls!? What is this, Steph? I've heard of them; a bunch of bitches, that's what I've heard! What's going on?"

Stephanie held on to her arm. The bigger woman pulled her around and looked her in the eyes. "Please, Robbie, trust me. Things are not as you think they are. If, after you've heard the woman I'm bringing you to, you want to leave, you can, and I'll never bother you again. But please, meet her and hear her out. It really is a matter of vital importance to you that you do."

Robbie made a leap of faith. "Okay, Steph." Unknown to her conscious mind, she had already made a choice. Lou and Ed were real women, and they were normal female size. Big T-girls really did need to stick together.

The two women entered the building through the famous (or infamous, if you asked Lou and Ed) red doors. As apprehensive as she was, Robbie felt the urge to shop as she passed the gorgeous gowns and other pretty things displayed in the store. When they reached the cash register, Stephanie introduced the blonde Marilyn Monroe double standing behind it. "Robbie, this is my daughter, Jessica. She's also my son, Jay."

"Daddy!" Jessica had not been referred to as Jay for over a year now, and was aghast that her father would revel her to a complete stranger.

Stephanie put her hand on her daughter's arm. "I'm sorry, Jess. This is Robbie, whom you've heard about, and she needs to know that there are other T-girls here - and you just returned the favor by calling me 'Daddy'" She turned, smiling to Robbie. "Honestly, Robbie, do I look like a 'daddy' to you?"

A confused Robbie just stood there.

Somewhat mollified, Jessica stuck out her hand. "Hi, Robbie, 'Aunt Stephie' here can be somewhat abrupt, but her heart is in the right place." As Robbie took her hand and the two shook, she continued. "I AM Jessica; I WAS Jay. Jay is no longer in the picture." She turned to Stephanie. "File that away, 'Daddy'; you've got a full time daughter."

Stephanie shook her head. She reached across the counter and hugged her daughter. Out of her beautiful feminine lips came Steve's bass, clearly masculine, voice. "Well, well, well, this is a day for revelations. Goodbye, then, to Jay. I can't say I'm completely surprised. I will remember him; I will not mourn him. I love you, daughter." She sniffed. "Damn! I'm still not proficient with this eye makeup thing, and now I'm going to have repair work to do!" Back to Stephanie's voice. "Call and tell Rose that Robbie is here, dear; it's time for further revelations."

Jessica was talking on the phone as Stephanie lead a still confused Robbie toward the back room.

They passed through the salon, and Robbie felt the comfort of the room. A child of the '60's would say it gave off good vibes. Her eye was caught by a framed photo of a young prom girl and a glammed to the max drag queen getting out of the twin make over chairs at the same time and giving each other a high five. She began to think that the women who designed and ran this place couldn't be the evil people Lou and Ed had talked of.

They reached the closed office door, and, before knocking, Stephanie again looked directly into Robbie's eyes. "I want to tell you the truth about me before you go in there and meet Rose. I'm not a transsexual, Robbie, not even a real cross-dresser. In that I lied to you. I WAS feminized as a young man, but not by 'Aunt' Jane Thompson; she does exist, and you may even meet her at some point, but she didn't 'do' me. I was feminized by Joyce, the lady who runs Vaingirls, at the request of my father, who was a friend of her brother. I was an adult, but just barely, and I was a macho asshole, completely out of control. I certainly did not want to be feminized, but my father was rich, and no cooperation from me, no money for me, as simple as that. Without going into details, Joyce turned my life around; by bringing out my feminine side and making me face her, she made me, Steve, a better man. I would trust her with my life. I trusted her with my son, Jay, when he seemed to be following in old dad's bad footsteps, and you just saw the outcome of that. I couldn't be happier; Jess is a fine young lady.

"Joyce asked me to become Stephanie again, to seek you out and make friends with you, and to eventually get you here to talk to Rose. She asked me because of my size, because, while I'm bigger than you, I come across as a beautiful woman, just as you wanted to but were afraid you wouldn't. I DO consider you my friend, Robbie. I sense that Robert was a fine young man, and that you are becoming a fine young woman. Am I right?"

Robbie, put on the spot, was forced to look within herself. Robert was almost a memory. She nodded "yes". She was somewhat overwhelmed, but in spite of what Stephanie was saying, there was no feeling of betrayal. "Keep going," she said.

"The point is," continued Stephanie, "I trust Joyce. Joyce trusts Rose. I've met Rose, and I trust her. You can leave now, if you want, but please don't. Whatever you later decide, please hear her out; your future happiness depends on hearing what she has to say. And Robbie, she's a T-girl like you; a real one. She's like Jess, a transsexual. I just couldn't let you go in there without telling you the truth about me." She spoke the last sentence in Steve's voice, and waited.

"Steve, are you enjoying being Stephanie?"

Steve was taken aback; that was not the question, if any, he had expected. Now it was his/her turn for introspection. "Yes," in Steve's voice. And then, breaking into a smile, "Yes." Then, in Stephanie's voice, "Yes, I believe I am ... girlfriend!"

Robbie smiled. "Knock."

A feminine voice from the other side said, "Come in." Robbie realized as she entered that Stephanie wasn't with her. She faced a young, attractive woman with mid-length honey blonde hair, wearing a stylish zebra pattern suit and two-inch black patent pumps. The woman gestured for her to sit on the floral pattern couch that ran along the office wall, and then sat herself. Both women turned toward each other. "Hi, Robbie, I'm Rose. I was Ross, and I want you to hear my story." And she told it.

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"... so here we are." Rose had finished. Robbie was somewhat in shock. "You look like you could use a drink, hon. Have one, and then we'll talk. Or you can leave. What'll you have?"

Robbie was so overwhelmed she reverted to Robert for just a moment. "Jack Daniels. Double. Straight up."

Rose gave her an odd smile. "I believe I'll join you." She picked up a small bell and rang it. An attractive woman in a maid's uniform entered. Having heard the story, Robbie realized that this must be Adain - no - Dainie, and was instantly proved right. "Dainie, Miss Robbie and I will both have a Jack Daniels double, straight up, please." Then she noticed that Dainie already had a tray in her hand with two glasses full of amber liquid on it. "Why, thank you, Dainie. Sometimes I believe you're psychic. You may fetch yourself one, and join us, as Miss Robbie may have questions for you."

Dainie whisked away a heretofore unnoticed napkin from the tray, revealing a third identical glass. Rose just shook her head. "You are getting a bit impertinent, Missy," she chided her maid, "I may be forced to take you across my knee!" But she was smiling.

Dainie distributed the drinks, placed hers on the coffee table in front of the couch, curtsied to the two, and sat in the couch matching chair opposite them. Her submissive manner was betrayed for just an instant by a mischievous grin, and then she became serious and waited.

Robbie had so many questions, but the foremost one, the one he really had so much trouble with, came out. "They really mean to SELL me?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"Yes, Robbie, they do. Just like they sold me to Adain." Dainie kept silent, but Robbie noticed the red tinge on her cheeks; it didn't come from blush, she thought.

"May I speak to Adain, please?" Rose looked at Dainie, and Robbie could tell that she didn't like the idea of her breaking character, even for a moment. "I'll only ask one question, and it only requires a one word answer."

Rose nodded to Dainie. "Adain may answer."

Robbie turned his attention to the person he still had a great deal of trouble accepting was Adain Ben Hariesh. "They really conned you, too? You really didn't know Ross ... er, Rose was coming with you involuntarily?" As Adain opened his mouth to answer, Robbie put her hand up as if to stop him. "No, don't answer, I know the answer, you wouldn't be here, like you are, if you were the kind of person who not only condoned but practiced slavery. Here's my real question: Adain, did you want to be Dainie, and are you enjoying being Dainie now?"

Rose and Adain looked at each other. This was not the expected question. Rose wondered how Adain would answer it, and she realized she had a lot invested in the answer.

The seconds seemed to drag by; several times Adain started to open his mouth to answer, and then closed it again. He had agreed to one word, this would be two, but there could be no qualifiers on his answer. Finally, "No. Yes," in Adain's voice.

Robbie smiled, and Rose knew that the "yes" was the answer she had wanted to hear. Until she exhaled, Rose didn't realize she had been holding her breath. She smiled, realizing that the "yes" was the answer she had wanted to hear, also. She and Adain ... and Dainie ... would have a lot to discuss once this was over.

Adain, who had left his shot of Jack Daniels untouched during Rose's narration, at this point picked it up in an all male gesture and threw it down. And then, as the two women watched, he vanished and Dainie reappeared. In her soft feminine voice she asked, "Will that be all, ma'am?"

Rose looked to Robbie, who nodded her assent. She turned to Dainie. "Yes, dear, that will be all."

Dainie picked up the three empty glasses, placed them on her tray, gave the two ladies a curtsy, picked up the tray and left. Rose turned to Robbie and looked at her as if to say, "Okay, the ball's in your court now."

Robbie turned to Rose. Her face was unreadable. "Rose, do I look angry to you?"

"No, not particularly, Robbie."

"That's because I'm a damn good actress, Rose!" She allowed a certain bitterness into her voice. "I'm seething! I believe you. I didn't want to. Like you, I loved those two Bitches. My best friends! Ha! But I trust Stephanie. And, I think, now, you. The clincher was Dainie. Do you know that I, or rather Robert, met Adain Ben Hariesh?"

"What!?" Rose was shocked. This was something new.

"Robert was a Marine. Since he was, I am; once a Marine, always a Marine." Robbie saw the startled expression on Rose's face. "Do you find that shocking? You'd be surprised how many military personnel are transgendered. Anyway, Robert was stationed in Turkey and was given the job of driving his commanding officer, Major Daniels, and Adain Ben Hariesh when Mr. Ben Hariesh visited his base." She chuckled, and unconsciously slipped into first person. "I called him Mr. Ben Hariesh, and he told me to call him Adain, that Mr. Ben Hariesh was his father."

Rose smiled, remembering that Adain had said the very same thing to her when she had referred to him as Mr. Ben Hariesh on that long ago Friday.

"Of course, I didn't," continued Robbie. "In fact, as the driver, I took my orders from Major Daniels, and I really didn't have any conversation with him. But I sure could hear what the two of them were talking about. The Major was considering hiring one of Adain's firms to do some security work on the base. Normally, that kind of thing would have been handled by one of Adain's subordinates, but since he had been in the area, he had decided to come and talk with the Major himself. During the course of the conversation, Adain expressed his love for his people, and his love for America. He expressed his appreciation for all the help America had provided for his country, and his anger at the terrorists who were giving Islam and all Middle East people a bad name. As they talked, I remember thinking, 'Now, there is an honorable MAN! He'd make a damn fine Marine.' Now, you have to know that that is the finest compliment a Marine can pay a civilian. At the time, I had no idea that I would ever be wearing dresses and liking it, and I certainly didn't see any effeminacy on Adain's part." She paused, then continued. "Here's the bottom line. If Adain Ben Hariesh did not want to be a girl or look like a girl, and yet put himself through what he's been through for love of you and to do his part to get those Bitches, then what you've revealed must be true. That he's enjoying it now, makes me happy for him."

Suddenly she snapped, and Robert was there. His face contorted in rage, and he slammed his fists down on the coffee table, putting a crack in it. He stood, shaking, every nuance of his being screamed "alpha male". And in anguish, he shouted, "Dammit, I LOVED those two!" Just as suddenly as the rage appeared, it vanished, and Robbie was back. Smoothing her skirt under herself, she sat back down on the couch, crossed her legs at the ankles, folded her hands in her lap and looked over at Rose with an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry about your coffee table. Sometimes a little testosterone does wonders; I feel ever so much better and in control now." And then, her voice filled with icy determination, she continued, "Let's get those Bitches, Adkins, too; you don't fuck with the Marines!"

Then, suddenly, she burst out laughing, and Rose looked at her, puzzled. Between the laughs, Robbie got out, "Well, actually, they did ... fuck with a Marine, that is ... and it was kinda fun, actually!" It dawned on Rose, and all of a sudden she started laughing, too.

Dainie, Salielah, and Stephanie burst through the door at the same time to see what all the shouting was about, and they stopped dead in their tracks. They were followed by Joyce, Bethany, Jessica, and Elizabeth. Then came Barbara and G.A., who had just shared a cab to the store and upon entering, heard the commotion in the back. Soon, all the conspirators were in the room, nine of them in a circle watching their leader and the new member hugging each other and laughing so hard the tears were leaving black mascara tracks down their faces, and dripping little black spots onto their blouses.

G.A., the only obvious male there, looked on as the others started to giggle. Soon, everyone except him was full out laughing, too. He looked around at the group, puzzled; "What?"

Joyce grabbed him, spun him around, and pushed him toward the door. "It's a girl thing, BROTHER, dear. Go get Georgie Ann; she'll understand."

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It was ironic, Robbie thought, as she stood waiting for the elevator to the street, that Joan intended her to be a spy on Vaingirls, for she was sure that WAS what Joan intended, while she was a spy for Vaingirls on Joan. She was, she realized, a double agent. As she rode down, she idly examined Joan's Discover card. She noted with more irony that the last three digits were 007. 'License to SHOP!' And she was giggling as she stepped out of the building onto Adams Street.

She couldn't help but notice the tall, handsome man standing by the doors, watching her. He was wearing a pair of black Dockers and a black polo shirt, with tan canvas deck shoes on his feet. He had, she thought, to be about 6'5" tall and about two hundred, fifty pounds, and that thought sent a feeling of deja-vu through her. Shrugging, she turned away, but was still puzzling over it when she heard a voice she recognized. "Thought you might like a friend and some company about now, sis."

"Stephanie!" she said happily as she turned, pleasantly surprised, "where did yo ..." She just stood there stunned, because in place of her girlfriend, there was the handsome man from the doorway. "St ... Stephanie???"

"Steve," he said, in a deep, thoroughly masculine voice. Smiling, he held out his hand for a handshake, then dropped it. "Oh, hell!" And he swept her up in a hug, swung her around and set her down again. "Damn, you look good, girl!" He looked down into her eyes, grinning. "Stephanie's on vacation; she sent me in her place." He offered her his arm. "Will I do?"

Robbie took Steve's arm, and the two turned to walk down Adams toward the Mecca of Carsons and Fields. "Well, I'll miss Stephanie, and I hope she'll come back from time to time, but ..." she smiled up at him, "... you, sir, will do just fine!" 'Life doesn't get much better than this!' she thought.

'Life doesn't get much better than this!' Steve thought.

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Robbie had just been "finished" by the Vaingirls team, and was chatting with Joyce when Joan walked through the front door. She watched as Joan's mouth dropped open in amazement, and then struck a pose. In an amused voice, she asked, "You like?" for the second time that day.

Joan was speechless. Where Robbie had been the demure professional secretary earlier, perfectly dressed, coifed, and made up for the office, now she was Big Glamour personified. Joyce and Jessica had found the perfect dress, a floor length purple sequin gown that flashed and glittered with Robbie's every movement. Enough cleavage was visible to entice without being blatantly seductive. Her silver glitter hosed legs ended in purple glitter strappy four-inch heels with rhinestone straps, and, due to Robbie's pose, one of those fabulous legs was exposed right up to the stocking top through the thigh high slit up the side of the dress.

'I bet they'll flash and glitter like a strobe effect as she walks,' thought Joan. Diamonds - Joan was willing to bet they WERE diamonds - glittered at wrists, throat, and ears. Elizabeth had pulled her blonde hair back into an updo that then swept down to her shoulder blades in a cascade of curls; curled tendrils framed her face. Like her cleavage, that face had been dramatically made up by Bethany to entice without being blatantly seductive. Joan stared in awe, and it wasn't even dollar signs this time - at least not right away. 'Within five minutes of her entering a room,' she thought, 'every man will have cum in his pants!' That made her think of Rose. 'If Rose doesn't want to go back, I wonder what Adain would pay for Robbie?'

What she said was, "OHMYGAWD!" And then, in a repeat of that afternoon, "I DO like, in fact I LOVE it!" She turned to Joyce, and extended her hand for a professional handshake, not going for the friendly hug. "Joyce, so nice to see you again."

Secretly glad that Joan was keeping this on a professional level - she didn't know if she was a good enough actress to give her a friendly hug - Joyce extended her hand also, and the two women shook. "Nice to see you, too, again, Joan," she said. "You certainly have made quite an impression on Robbie; you - and Lou and Ed - are all she can talk about. She says this is all for those two?"

Joan laughed. "Yes. You Vaingirls really are miracle workers. We are DEFINITELY going to knock their socks off!" And she gave Joyce a condensed version of the story Robbie had told her.

"This is going to be SO neat!" chimed in Robbie. "Those two think I'm still in PANTS!"

Joyce smiled at the two. She spoke to Joan. "Well, Joan, as you know, we've been sort of on the outs with Louise and Edwina. Robbie has certainly convinced us that we must be wrong about them. I will have to mend some fences. If you think about it, you might pass on that I will be in touch with them shortly." This was all working out so well, she thought. She remembered her old eighth grade history teacher telling her class about how at the outbreak of World War I, the French war plan, Plan 17, had seemed designed to cooperate with the German Von Schlieffen Plan. 'Joan's plans are just like that; I couldn't have made them better!'

Joan took the bait. "I certainly will, Joyce. Lou and Ed can be a little over the top at times, and they certainly have been devious with Robbie here, but all the manipulation was in the spirit of good fun. (As if their minds were linked, Joyce and Robbie thought, 'Bitch!' at the same moment.) And it's in that same spirit that Robbie here decided to turn the tables on them tonight; I'm just helping her out and going along to see the expressions on the faces of those two when this dazzling creature walks in!" She smiled at Robbie.

Robbie curtsied.

Joyce made shooing motions with her hands. "You two get along, now! Robbie, you come back and give us a blow by blow. Bring pictures! You do have a camera, right?"

Joan nodded. "I do. I'll be tonight's photographer, don't worry." She turned to Robbie. "Let's go, gorgeous!" And they exited the store.

Robbie ducked her head and arm back in, and gave Joyce a surreptitious thumbs up. Joyce watched the closing door with an altogether different kind of smile on her face, a smile Joan would not have liked in the least.

To be continued...