EyelinerIt Started With Tattooed Eyeliner”We settled on black, right?””I’ll leave it up to you,” I said. Lynn began organizing her bottles andtubes, preparing the ink for the tattoo machine she used for applyingpermanent makeup. In this case, she would applying permanent eyeliner tomy upper and lower eyelids.”Good. Black is basic. Now, we never really settled on what style. Thereare a lot of things you can do with eyeliner, and you’ve specificallyasked that I not take into account your being a male. Is that still whatyou want? This is the last chance to change your mind.””Yes, that’s still what I want.””Okay, and I’ll tell you that we’re not going to do the Lady Gaga lookor anything with wings, where the eyeliner goes way outside the end ofthe eye. Those don’t hold up well when you age and your eyes begin tosag. Beyond that, I think you’ll be happy if you trust me.””I trust you. Do your worst,” I said.”Oh, I will,” Lynn chuckled.For the next two hours, she hunched over my eyes, with the tattoo penbuzzing. My dick, already rigid from the excitement of getting my eyesdone, remained straight and hard without letup, all the more exciting bythe fact that I obviously couldn’t do anything about it. Part of mehoped Lynn wouldn’t notice, and part hoped she would.Finally, she finished the second lower lid, applied antiseptic andcleaned me up. “Ready to look? Now keep in mind it’s bolder now than itwill be in a few weeks, because some of the ink scales off in thehealing process.”She held up the mirror, and I sucked in a deep breath.”It’s beautiful,” I said.”I’m glad you like it. I enjoyed working on you. You’ll notice it’sthicker toward the outer edge of the eye with just a slight flip. Theline on the bottom will soften, but not too much. That’s where youreally get the most impact. Come back when you want something elsedone,” she said.Driving away, I nearly had a wreck looking at myself in the rear viewmirror. I got went to the office, avoiding eye contact with any of myemployees, closed the door, dropped my pants and produced about a gallonof jizz. And as I squeezed the last few drops, I had that sick feelingthat is so common once a male spews: I’d gotten my eyes permanentlylined, and there would be no hiding it. What the fuck had I done? I wasa married man, partner in a local accounting firm.I couldn’t hide forever, so I cleaned up, opened my door and walkedswiftly toward the restroom, hoping nobody would be able to focus on amoving target. I made it and took a closer look in the mirror. My cellphone rang.”Hey, Jerry, you OK? You were practically running to the bathroom sofast we were afraid you were sick.” It was my office manager, Shelly.”I’m fine, thanks. I’ll be back in a sec.””Good, because we have to go over those Johnson numbers. They have a taxdeadline tomorrow.””Ten minutes.”I took a deep breath and walked back to my office. “OK, Shelly,” I saidbreezily as I walked by her office without looking at her. “Let’s have alook at Johnson.”I swung my chair toward the window, hoping to avoid eye contact, butShelly walked over to the window. “What’re you looking at out there?””Oh, nothing, just thinking.”She turned to hand me the file, and that brought us face to face, withthe light from the window ensuring that nothing would be hidden in theshadows.”Um, you’re wearing makeup?””I just got a little lining added to make my eyes seem deeper. It wasn’tsupposed to show.””Tattooed? Well, it shows. A lot. Like, even if you were a woman, thatwould be a heavy eyeliner look. You really can’t miss it. Is Erin goingto be OK with that?””I don’t know. I didn’t talk to her about it.””You what?””I thought maybe it’d just make my eyes look better and nobody wouldnotice. I wonder if I could cover it with makeup.””No concealer would cover that. Besides, it might get infected if youeven tried before it heals. How long did she say that would take?””Six weeks.””You can’t hide for six weeks.””No.”Shelly shook her head and sighed. “Good luck tonight.”Tonight came, and as I pulled into the driveway, I noted that Erin wasalready home. I breezed quickly through the den, where she was seated infront of the TV with a glass of wine. I kept my face turned away as Imoved past her and in toward the bedroom.”How was your day?” I asked.”Long. Yours?””Not too bad. What’s in here for dinner?””We have some leftover pizza. I already had a piece. You can heat someup. And would you bring me some more wine?”I had no choice but to bring the wine bottle into the den and begin torefill her glass. She squinted up at me, then stood up.”What’s wrong with your eyes?””I’m not sure. They’ve just been irritated today. They’ll be OK,” Isaid, turning my head away from the light.”It looks like you’re wearing eyeliner.””Don’t be silly. It’ll be gone by morning,” I said.”Wait a minute.” She turned me around toward the light. “Open your eyes.What the fuck. You are wearing eyeliner. Heavy streetwalker blackeyeliner at that.”I had known it would go this way. I exhaled loudly and plopped onto thecouch. “I know. It’s hard to explain.””Well, go wash it off.””I can’t.””Why not?””It’s permanent. I was just trying to make my eyes look deeper, and Iwas trying to have a little line put in to look better, and this is howit came out.””Permanent. Tattooed.””Yes.”There was no explosion. She walked around once in a small circle, as ifpacing. “You’re joking.””No.”And that was it, for almost an hour. When I tried to talk to her, shecut me off. “I’ve got to think about this,” she said.After about an hour, she broke the silence. “What are you going to tellthe people at work tomorrow?””I don’t know. I’m going to call in sick to figure something out.””You’ll do nothing of the sort. You’ve just complicated the shit out ofyour life – and mine. You’re not going to make it worse by lying andneglecting your job. Who at the office knows about this?” she asked.”Just Shelly.””Are you a cross dresser?””I’ve dressed before,” I said.”Show me.” I led her to a trunk in the basement, where I kept my wig andfemale clothes hidden.She picked up a few items, put them back. “I supposed if you had yourway, you’d get to wear this stuff and hide behind a wig,” she said.”Is that what you want?””No. In fact, you’re not to touch this trunk until I say so. The onething I’m pretty sure of is that there will be no more hiding.” She wentto the closet and returned with a big roll of shipping tape, severallabels and a Sharpie. She signed each label and placed it along the seamof the top of the trunk, then put tape over it. “There. I’ll know if youtry to get in there. Now then. In the morning, you’ll put on a suit andreport to work just like you are. You will answer every question, fromanyone, with complete honesty. If anybody asks what I think of this,tell them they call call me and ask for themselves.””OK.””Now go to bed,” she said. We both started toward the bedroom and shestopped me. “I’m not sleeping with a man wearing eyeliner. You’ll sleepon the couch.””OK, let me get my pajamas.””No. I don’t know if you belong in pajamas or a cute little nighty. Butfor the moment, I want us both to be reminded that you have a penis andpermanent eyeliner. You’ll sleep naked. Give me your clothes.”I handed them over and she went into the bedroom, closing the doorbehind her.***The next morning, we both showered and ate breakfast separately withoutconversation. I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Therewas no escaping it. My eyeliner was bold and black, upper and lower.Finally, she called me.”Do you have the aftercare instructions from the tattoo person? Givethem to me.”I pulled them out of a drawer and handed them over. She spent a fewminutes reading them over before speaking. “This says your color couldfade and flake somewhat if you don’t follow the proper aftercare. So Iwant you following these instructions to the letter. You paid good moneyfor those hooker eyes, and we’re not going to piss it away. Now, it’scasual Friday, so you don’t have to wear a suit to work. Your white poloshirt will do fine, but with this on under it.”She held up a bra, which I recognized as the Bombshell bra I’d purchasedat Victoria’s Secret. “Very nice, completely padded, 38 DD. I bet youpaid a good fifty or sixty bucks for this.””About that,” I replied.”Then you may as well get some use out of it. Put it on. I’m assumingyou know how. OK, now the shirt. Good. Now, let’s get a nice picture.”She pulled out her phone and took several, turning me sideways to showoff my shape, but having me face the camera to show off my eyes.”We’ll talk more tonight,” she said. She pulled out right behind me andwe both headed off for work. For her, it was just a couple of miles, butI had a half-hour commute. As I parked my car and headed into theoffice, my phone began vibrating, and I pulled it out to see why.A comment was coming in on my Facebook page: “Gutsy move.””Looks great. The eyes are really permanent? Maybe you should make theboobs permanent too.”Then my Facebook app abruptly logged me out. I tried to log back in, butit gave me the message, “We are sorry, but your email address andpassword do not match what we have on file.”I put my phone back in my pocket and headed toward the side door,avoiding others as I made it to my office. Shelly was close by andfollowed me into the office.”Wow, I can’t believe you did it?””Did what?””Posted your picture on Facebook. It’s cute, like those “first day ofschool” pictures people post of their k**s. Only not.””I didn’t post anything.””Log on and see for yourself.”I brought up facebook.com, but it wouldn’t accept my log-in.”Come out here, we’ll look at it on mine,” said Shelly. I followed herout to her desk, where the page with my photo was already displayed.Photos, actually – one looking into the camera and the other showing myfigure.”Erin did that. I guess she also changed my password so I couldn’t takeit down.””Did you read the caption?”I sat in her chair and saw the photo album she had created on my page.The description said:”You may notice I look a bit different here. I’ve decided it’s time tomake some long overdue changes in my life, and my appearance. The eyesnow have permanent makeup. I’m taking things a step at a time, but it’sfair to say you’re just getting a taste of what is to come. I welcomeyour comments and suggestions for future changes.”We both said nothing for a few seconds, then Shelly’s feed updated andthe photo of my face appeared in the feed: “Jerry has changed hisprofile picture.””Move over a sec, boss,” said Shelly. She sat in her chair and typed aninstant message to “me.””Hey, this is Shelly. Is that you making the changes, Erin?””LOL, yep!””Just a joke, right?””Not really. Just trying to help Jerry along.””Are you going to leave these up?””I think so, yes.”As they were chatting, Shelly clicked on my profile. My name had beenchanged to “Jeri,” and my gender was changed to “TBD.”I didn’t have to tell Shelly what to do next. She typed: “How long areyou leaving the name changed?””LMAO, Facebook policy only allows one name change every 60 days, soit’s Jeri for at least a couple of months.”Shelly stifled a laugh, then turned back to me. “It’s just Facebook.People get accounts hijacked all the time.””Look at me. I don’t think I’m going to be able to get away with that.””Probably not. But look, best thing right now is to get down to work,”said Shelly.And so we did. My schedule was already arranged so that I would mostlybe working at my desk, and when I did venture out, there was littlecomment except an occasional whistle and a “looking good” from a coupleof co-workers.It had been two weeks since I had rashly made an unfortunate decision tohave my eyes tattooed with eyeliner. My wife, Erin, had reacted withboth confusion and rage, demanding that I wear a DD padded bra to workthe next day. She had also modified my Facebook profile, changing myname from Jerry to Jeri and using a profile picture that clearly showedmy heavy black eyeliner.Between my embarrassment and my fear of an anger I’d never before seenin Erin, I put up no fight at all, and braced for the worst, playing outin my mind the scenarios for what might happen next.But it didn’t. The weekend came and went. I wore my usual clothes,running my errands, taking care of the yard work and helping around thehouse. Erin even allowed me to wear sunglasses part of the time when Iwas out of the house. Twice a day, she examined my eyes and appliedpetroleum jelly provided with the aftercare instructions.There was even sex one night, with Erin delivering a blow job like shenever had before. “Funny,” she said, with those whore eyes, you looklike you should be the one going down on a dick. You know, like in thoseporn videos where the slut with godawful eye makeup gets face fucked bysix or eight different guys and ends up with her makeup running down herface. But that wouldn’t be a problem for you now, would it? Maybe weshould arrange a party like that for you.”I started to answer, but she slapped me hard on the cheek. Nothing moreabout my eyes was said until I raised the subject a few days later,after getting home from work on Friday.”Are you still mad at me?””Not mad, exactly, but I’ll adapt. So, was that orgy of self pleasureafter getting your eyes done worth it?”I didn’t answer.”Well then, I assume it’s still a turn-on. In fact, why don’t you let mein on the fun. I want to see you jerk off.””Ewww, no!” I said.”Jesus, how selfish can you be? You go out and get permanent makeup sooverdone that it changes everything for both you and me, just for a bigwanking party. I’m now the woman married to the freak with eyeliner. Andyou won’t so much as let me enjoy seeing you jerk off to it? Here, I’lleven set up a mirror so you can look at yourself while you do it. Now doit!”She roughly jerked my pants down – pulling the button off and breakingthe zipper, then pulling my boxers down.I was hard.”Yeah, just as I thought,” she said. “It really is a turn-on for you.I’ve never seen you so hard, in fact. And even so, it’s barely long asmy finger. Give me your phone.”She reached in the pants pocket and pulled it out. “Hold it next to yourdick. Don’t worry, we’re not taking a picture of it. Who the hell wouldwant it? Oh shit, your fucking phone is longer than your dick. Well,maybe one just for the files.” She took a photo with her phone.”Now look at your bedroom eyes in the mirror. Oh yeah! Rub that littlething.”Erin taunted me until I spurted. We both looked at my jizz on thecarpet.”Now you think I’m going to make you lick it ısparta escort up, don’t you? Isn’t thatwhat they do in all that porn you’ve been watching? Well, this isn’t oneof your porn videos. We’re not playing any scripts. Shit, are youalready getting hard again?I was.”Damn. You’ve got another load in you. Jerk it again.””I may need some lotion or lube. It’s kind of raw,” I said.”Fuck that. You’re looking for sympathy because you’ve masturbatedyourself silly? Wait here.”She went to the work room and came back with a pair of heavy rubbergloves. “These are the gloves you got so you wouldn’t burn yourself withthe stripping compound refinishing the dresser. Put them on.”I complied.”Now try again.”She shoved the mirror in my face. “Try harder. Get harder. I want to seecum,” she said. She kissed me softly and stroked me, then pushed mygloved hand to my groin. “Do it.”I began to harden as she taunted me. “You think this is fun? You have noidea how much fun you’re about to have. Stroke it!”It took well over a half hour before I managed to cum again, by whichtime my dick was red and showing abrasions from the rough gloves.”Give me the gloves,” she ordered. “Put your hands on your head and staylike that until I get back.”She walked into the bathroom and the kitchen and returned with a tube ofTiger Balm, a roll of Saran Wrap and a roll of duct tape. She put on aglove and squeezed a large amount of the Tiger Balm into her hand, afterwhich she grabbed my penis and began to rub it in. I felt like my dickwas on fire.”Awww, does little dickie burn? She began to wrap my cock in the SaranWrap, sealing in the Tiger Balm. Finally, she wrapped the duct tapearound my waist and balls, sealing my entire “panty area” in it.”I sure hope you remembered to piss before we started this, because thislittle recipe needs to cook for at least an hour. You should be lovingall this – you’ve spurted twice and look at all this kinky stuff I’mdoing to you. Now get a wet sponge and clean off the carpet. You don’tneed your clothes. You’re covered.More than two hours later, my bladder was about to burst, and I beggedher to remove the tape.”Lie down on your back and grab the bed post. This may pull a bit,” shesaid.She found the end of the tape and pulled hard on it. My eyes wereclosed, but it felt as if she had ripped my scrotum out.”That was a short piece. Here’s a bigger one,” she said, ripping it awayas if she were starting a lawn mower. After three more, she instructedme to peel off the Saran Wrap.”Ready to jerk off again?” she asked, and laughed.”Hardly. Please, can I get dressed?””You can take a bath. That shit stinks. Wait, let me help you. Go intothe bathroom and wait on me.” She had gone into the kitchen for a steelwool pad. She put the gloves back on and grabbed the end of my dick inone hand and ran water over the pad, using it to scrub me harshly.”Now, in the shower. Leave the door open. I don’t want you jerking offagain with me not looking.”She watched with folded arms and a smirk as I bathed.”Now are you ready to go again?” she asked. “We have lube,” she said,holding up the Tiger Balm tube.”I think not,” I said.”Maybe we need to treat your peehole from the inside,” she said,squeezing a generous amount of the Tiger Balm onto a Q-Tip. “I want tosee you cum again. Make it good, or we’re going give your peehole a goodscrubbing with this.”I stroked, but nothing happened. Erin pulled up my dick and slapped myballs hard with her other hand. I doubled over and she stretched out thedick, holding the Q-Tip with Tiger Balm up to the end of it.”Here comes Roto Rooter,” she said, then paused. The threw the Q-Tipinto the trash. “Nah, gotta save something for later. Now go fixdinner.””Let me get some clothes.””You can wear this,” she said, reaching into the closet and pulling outthe Bombshell bra. “You don’t need anything else. You seem to have someshrinkage anyway.””But it’s wide open in there, and it’s getting dark outside. People maysee in.”She shrugged. “You win. You can have these too.” She produced my redplatform “fuck me” stiletto heels. “There, now you should be happy.There’s chicken in the fridge. Cut it into strips and make us a stirfry. I’ll be on the computer.”I put on the shoes, which I had never actually intended to wear, andbegan carefully trying to keep my balance as I began work around thekitchen. Erin appeared with her camera. She stooped and aimed it at myfeet.”Don’t worry, missy. I’m just getting a picture of your pretty feet.Turn a bit to the right. Now, poke your right toe to the side just abig. Got it, but eww, we’ve got to do something about those hairy legs.Back to cooking! I’ll be in the bedroom.””Please.””What?””I don’t want us getting into trouble. My privates are showing throughtwo big windows, and I’m not even sure it’s legal. Please let me putsome clothes on,” I begged.Erin sighed. “Wait here.”She went to the trunk where my stash of female clothes was hidden andreturned 15 minutes later holding a Daisy Duke type middriff top and apleated miniskirt. She threw them at my feet.”You can put these on, then finish cooking.”I sat on the ottoman and began taking off one of the heels.”You don’t need to take those off. You need to get used to being inthem. Stand up and put your clothes on standing. No sitting or leaning.”I fell twice putting on the skirt as my heel caught in the fabric, buteventually got both feet in. The skirt cleared my genitals by less thantwo inches.”Damn, you went not only for hooker eyes but for a hooker wardrobe aswell. There’s not a single decent thing in that trunk,” said Erin.I wasn’t in a position to argue, and returned to the kitchen, where Iwas slicing chicken on the island. Erin returned a few minutes with thecamera.”You’re just so cute I can’t help myself,” she said, turning the cameravertically to capture my full length. “You cook, I’ll be in the bedroomon the computer.””You’re not putting that on Facebook are you?””Why wouldn’t I? Social media is about letting people know what’s goingon in your life. Is this not going on in your life?””Yes, but …””And there hasn’t been an update in over a week.””That’s because you took over the account.””Well, the least I can do is update it for you now and then. Don’t worrymissy. It’ll be fine.”Erin returned to the bedroom and imported the new photos into Picasa,then logged onto my Facebook account. She saw that Shelly was alsoonline and sent her an instant message:”Hey there, how are things going at work?””Erin?””Yep.””Not too bad. Things have quieted down. Nobody’s talking about the eyesany more.””Has any of this been a problem in terms of getting the work done?””Not so far. The clients think it’s funny. Everybody does, actually.Weird, but they figure it’s between you and Jerry.”While Shelly was typing, Erin uploaded the first photo showing just myfeet in the hooker heels. She added the caption, “Obviously, I need somebody waxing done. Can someone give me a recommendation?””LMAO,” typed Shelly. “You gonna leave that?””Sure. How else is Jeri gonna find a place for hair removal? Hold on.”She uploaded the full-length photo of me in the skirt and midriff. Sheput it in a Facebook album with the heels and titled it “Help Jeri GetPresentable.” She added the text, “As you can see, my hair removal needsare pretty extensive. Who knows a good place for a full body wax?”She texted Shelly again. “Think that’ll get the job done?””LOLOL, I’m not sure. Want me to share it so some of my friends can helpout?””You willing to do that?””Sure, it’ll be fun. BRB.”Two minutes later, a post appeared from Shelly showing the photos. “Heyfolks, help us out here. My co-worker Jerry Andrews is obviously goingthrough some personal changes and needs a lot of help. He (or is it shenow?) is looking for a body waxer. I’m also thinking that he’s going toneed some more appropriate clothing. Anybody have any thoughts oradvice?”She returned to the kitchen.”You posted something, didn’t you?””Yep. Shelly was even kind enough to share it.””Shelly? She’s a social media addict. She must have a thousand friendson there.””Closer to 1800, actually.””I’ve got to go look.””You’ve got to serve dinner. Set the table. What goes on your Facebookpage is none of your business.”She sat at the table and made me bring her food as if I were a waiter ina fancy restaurant. As I set her plate down, she reached under my skirtand grabbed my raw penis between two fingers.”Hey, that hurts!””It’s been well over an hour since you masturbated. You ready to goagain?” She twisted it viciously, then pulled her hand away with a jerk.”I’m ready to eat.””I’m eating now. You eat after I’m done. Then you can clean up thekitchen. Just stand there until I’m done, in case I need anything.Speaking of, bring me some of that Pinot Grigio.”Once she’d eaten and had a couple of glasses of wine, she gave mepermission to eat and clean up the kitchen. “Then clean up and come intothe bedroom with me,” she said.It took about a half hour to clean up, because the stir fry had beenmessy. When I got to the bedroom, Erin was once again busy on myFacebook page.”Look at this, your friends are being very helpful. Several recommendedbody waxing places, and apparently Shelly is very popular andthoughtful. She also asked folks to help recommend more appropriateclothing choices for you, and she’s got …” Erin paused to count, “14responses.””Let me see,” I said. She stood and allowed me to read, but she took thecordless keyboard with her. “I can’t have you doing anything rash.You’ve done enough of that already,” she said.I read through the responses to Shelly’s re-post, stopping from the oneposted by Sharon Aderhold, my firm’s personnel director:”Appropriate for what? Office would be a different matter from nightclubbing,” Sharon had commented0.Shelly had replied: “If I get a vote, he needs to load up on clothes forthe office. With those killer eyes, I think he makes a much betterfemale.””You have a point,” said Sharon. “Either way, I think some long, looseskirts with some pretty tops would be nice. And some nice, conservative3-inch pumps or something.”Erin (still posing as me) added to the thread: “That sounds great. I’mgoing to see if we can get in for some waxing this weekend.”Shelly, still in the public thread, asked, “We? Is Erin going too?””Yes,” Erin typed. “Erin wants to get a full Brazilian.””Sexy!!!” replied Shelly.”Never know when opportunity might knock.” ;-)And that was that, thank goodness. I slept naked again, on the livingroom floor.Saturday morning. My dick was swollen and red, with some angry-lookingabrasions from several hours of attention. Erin had forced me tomasturbate twice in succession without lubrication, then had coated itin Tiger Balm, wrapping it in plastic wrap to keep it on my skin. Shehad “helped” remove it by scrubbing my shaft vigorously with an SOS pad.I was sore and raw and a little bit afraid.And hard.Erin was standing over me, where I had slept naked.”Damn, you’re stiff again? How is it you could never get it that hard tofuck me?””I … I just …””You’re just a pervert who’s turned on by being hurt and humiliated. Weobviously need to drain that noodle of yours again. Since you’re soworked up, let’s have it.””I don’t think …””Stroke it.””Can I use some lube or something?””We still have half a tube Tiger Balm. Would you like that?””Please, no.””Maybe you need some fantasy material. Have a look at this.”She handed me her iPad, opened to my Facebook page. The “Notification”indicator showed the number “43.” Two more flashed on the screen while Iwas looking at it.She showed me the photo she had posted of me in the miniskirt andmidriff top, asking for help in finding someone to wax my body. It had281 likes and 27 comments.”You can read your fan mail later, but right now there’s work to do. Asluck would have it, the “Bareskins” manager said they might have sometime open today.”I felt my dick harden even more, and it didn’t escape Erin’s notice.”That does it. We’ve got to put a stop to this.”She slapped downward on my dick, then did so again three more times.”You’re harder than ever,” she said. She grabbed the tip of my penisbetween the polished nails of her thumb and forefinger and dug both intome. “Now grab it, and I want you to produce some jizz.”I began stroking and was surprised to find that despite the raw skin, itfelt good. But without lubricant, I could feel the raw skin giving wayfast. Meanwhile, her nails digging into the head served both as adistraction and a turnon.”Faster!”I pumped for all I was worth for 20 minutes and finally felt myselfpreparing to spurt. Just as I began to cum, Erin grabbed the middle ofmy dick with her other hand and squeezed tight, forcing the jizzbackward.”There, was that fun?” she said.”Not really, no. I didn’t really cum.””Well, that’s a shame now. Oh, did you hurt yourself? Two spots on mydick were now rubbed raw, with the skin fully parted. “Oh, I’m afraidthose are going to scab over. Maybe this will help.” She pulled a bottleof alcohol from the cabinet and poured a glass full. “Stick it inthere,” she said.I complied, shouting “Shiiiiit!!!”Erin slapped me. Twice.”You’re NEVER allowed to curse in front of me or any other female.””Fuck that.”She slapped me again, six times, so hard that I fell to the floor. “Idon’t want to bust a lip or blacken one of those slutty eyes, but sohelp me I will.”Three more slaps.”OK.”Another slap.”Yes MA’AM.””Yes Ma’am,” I said, barely audible.”I have some 40-grit sandpaper out in the garage. Maybe you’d like me tosand that miserable dick down a bit. Don’t move.”She walked out, and I heard her rummaging in the garage. She returnedwith the sandpaper and grabbed the end of my dick. She held thesandpaper loosely in her right hand and took a swipe across the head ofmy battered cock.”Ouch. Fuck!””Oh really?” She rubbed hard across it repeatedly, as if it were a pieceof wood she was trying to shave down. She sanded for several minutes. Weboth looked at it. The head of my cock looked the way a knee does whenyou’ve skinned it on the pavement.”You have anything else to say?””No ma’am.””Now go shower and clean off that blood, then bring me a condom and aroll of gauze.”Shocked by her viciousness, I didn’t argue. I immediately got up, wentto the medicine cabinet and pulled out the roll of gauze as well as acondom. I brought them to her and knelt in front of her.”What the fuck are you doing?””Kneeling.””Like I said, this isn’t one of your BDSM porn videos. This is my show,and we’re not following some fantasy escort ısparta script. Now then. I’m going tobandage your little peepee really well. Then you’re going in to get afull body wax. I’ve already made the appointment. Some shops have apolicy that they won’t wax inside the panty area on males, but I don’tknow what theirs is. If she decides to do around your little pecker,that’s good. Otherwise, just agree to whatever she defines as a fullbody wax. In fact, you’ll do exactly as they tell you while you’rethere, no matter what it is. Can you say ‘Yes Ma’am?'””Yes Ma’am. But may I ask a question?”She sighed. “Go ahead.””Won’t it be awkward if she sees my, uh, bandage?””Not for me.””What if she asks about it?””Then you’ll explain that you’re a compulsive masturbator and that yourubbed yourself raw masturbating and had to be bandaged to heal. Andremember that I’ll be communicating with her afterward. If you don’t sayit just that way, I’ll know. And if you think you’re hurting now, youain’t seen nothing yet. Goddamn! You’re hard again!”I was. As she had explained my waxing and reality of my likelyembarrassment in front of the service provider, I had developed anotherhard-on. A strong one.”Let’s get it over with. Spill it.””I don’t know if I can. It hurts to even touch it.”Slap. The hardest one yet. “If you don’t jerk off right now, it’s goingto hurt a lot more.”I complied. This time my cock had running sores by the time I came, ifyou could call it that. She didn’t pinch me, but I didn’t produce morethan a drop. She wrapped the entire role of gauze around me, then tapedit in place with the duct tape, which was still on the table from theprevious night. She wound the duct tape around my scrotum several times.”If there’s any sign you’ve tampered with this, or if the waxing techhas any complaint, you’ll think of the last hour as a gentle blow job.Got it?””Yes, Ma’am.”She finished and produced a floral pleated micro-mini skirt from mytrunk, with pink tube top that covered only the breast area.”Get dressed.”I pulled on the tube top first.”No, with the bra. I want you to have tits.””But Ma’am, the top doesn’t cover the bra. It’ll show. And I’ve got allthis body hair.””Well now, we’re about to fix that latter problem, aren’t we? As for thebra, what’s your beef? You’re afraid you’ll look funny? You should haveworried about that before you got fucking permanent eyeliner.”I just hung my head and began putting on the bra, then the skirt and thetop.”I’m afraid I’m going to be exposed. This skirt’s too short, and itflares out.””I think not. How can you be exposed? Your peepee’s covered underneaththere. Besides, it seems to me you’re already pretty well exposed,aren’t you? You saw to that by getting your whore eyes tattooed.””But it’s indecent.””Why are you telling me? You’re the one who picked out all thisslutwear.””Not to wear out.””Well, now, that would be a waste, wouldn’t it. Now get your shoes on.Same ones you wore last night.””I haven’t even shaved. Don’t you think I should do that, maybe wearmakeup and my wig?”She slapped me again.”Aren’t you getting tired of this? Because I sure as hell am. Now wait aminute. Stand still.”She produced two tiny padlocks – the type used for luggage – and putthem through the rings on the ankle straps of my platform heels, makingit impossible to remove them. “There. I don’t want you going barefoot.It’d be embarrassing if people started to think you couldn’t affordshoes!”She laughed at the irony of her joke, then continued. “Now go. They’relocated in the Summit shopping center, second floor, directly aboveIra’s Tavern.”I said nothing. I knew the location well. I was a regular at Ira’s,which was one of the city’s most popular spots for lunch at an outdoorlunch. The only way to get to the second level was on the stairwaytwisting around over the dining patio. Everyone would not only see me,but would see up my skirt. I would be a laughing stock.”Now stand still so I can get a picture of you.” She took the photo withher camera phone and immediately uploaded it to my Facebook account,with the caption, “Off to get my wax done. Thanks to everybody for thesuggestions!!! XXOO!!””When are they expecting me?””Right now. Go.”It was already 11:15. The lunch hour at Ira’s would be in full swingwhen I walked up the stairs to the waxing salon. Indeed, there were acouple of catcalls as I walked up, but fewer than I had expected.I entered the salon, which had about 10 swivel chairs lining either sideof the big room. About half of those were already filled with womenhaving eyebrows waxed.”You’re Jerry Andrews, I gather. I’m Anya, and I’ll be doing your wax.Come over here.” She was in her 40s, Middle Eastern, with thick eyelinerof her own – with wings – and a disapproving look. She drew a privacycurtain around the table.”Total body wax. You’ll need to fill out this paperwork. That last sheetis an agreement to allow us to see your … body parts. And I’ll need yourdriver’s license.”I filled out the forms and gave her the license, which she checkedagainst the forms. She pulled out a sheet. “We’ll move this around, butat least it’ll be a little more comfortable for both of us for you tohave it. I don’t want to look at you for two hours. What’s that whitestuff sticking out under your skirt?”I realized my skirt had ridden up when I sat down, exposing at least twoinches of my bandaged penis. “What happened to you? Why is your penisbandaged up like that?” she said.Remembering Erin’s threats, I answered, “I rubbed it raw masturbatingand it had to be bandaged up.””You’re k**ding. What’s your wife’s number?”I gave it to her, and she pulled a phone out of her pocket and calledErin, leaving it on the speakerphone.”This is Anya, at BareSkins. I’ve got Jerry here, but he seems to havesome, uh, damage. Do I need to worry about that?””Oh, it’s all right. He’s just a chronic masturbator. We’ve triedeverything. Sometimes it has to be wrapped up to heal.”There was a laugh from the other side of the curtain.”He got any diseases? Or she, whatever?””No, just had a physical. You’ll want to wear gloves, but you do thatanyway, right?””Always. You want all the hair gone? If he … she … whatever … is gonnawear a lot of this kind of clothes, it really calls for a Brazilian.”Another laugh from the other side of the curtain.”Can you do that within your policies?””Sure. We do ’em on women all the time, like we did on you last week. Wecan’t discriminate.””OK then, take it all,” said Erin.Anya hung up and said, “I’ll be outside for a minute. You takeeverything off and d**** that … bandaged area and I’ll be right back.”She went out. I stood up and took off my bra, then began to lower myskirt, but it caught on my six-inch heel and sent me sprawling. The hotwax got knocked off the table, spilling onto the floor, and I fell intothe middle of it. A different lady threw back the curtain and ran in tohelp me.”You all right? Here, I’ll get it,” she said, and pulled the skirt offmy heel, leaving me lying naked on the floor. Why didn’t you take offthose heels? You’re going to kill yourself.””They’re locked on,” I said before I thought to make up a more discreetway of explaining. “My wife has the key.” I heard the biggest laugh yetfrom throughout the room. I managed to stand and d****d the sheet aroundme. She opened the curtain completely, and everyone in the shop stared.”Just stand there a minute, if you can on those stilts. We’ll have tomove you to a chair, but I need to cover it first. Just stand here whileI get it ready. Here, take these,” she said, handing me the bra, topand skirt. I held the d**** up with my elbows so my hands would be freeto hold my clothes. “Go sit over there now.”Meanwhile, Anya had returned from her break.”What a mess!! One of us will have to clean that up while the other getsthat wax on him, her, whatever. Which one you want to do?” she said.”What’s she having done?” asked the other woman – also Middle Eastern,but younger.”Brazilian. But for now, you need to just get the strips on and getthose parts waxed. I’ll clean this up,” said Anya. She went to workcleaning up the wax and the other girl turned her attention to me.”Looks like I get you. Let’s see where all you got that wax. I’m Reya.And you are?””Jerry,” I said.”You have a last name, Jerry?””Jerry Andrews,” said the dark haired woman in the seat next to theredheaded woman. “He’s kind of a big deal on social media these days.He’s the guy who got his eyes tattooed with eyeliner just because theidea made him hard.””Or she is,” said the redheaded lady. “Shelly and I are friends onFacebook. “I’m Ruby. I just sent you an invite.””Good to meet you,” I mumbled.”Oh that’s amazing. You just accepted my invitation and I you’re overthere stark naked under a sheet without your phone,” said Ruby. “Got iton autopilot?””Something like that.””Let me send one,” said the dark haired lady. “Yeah, mine was acceptedtoo. I’m Phyllis. You got somebody running your account for you?””My wife may be on it,” I said.”Well, I guess we’re all friends here,” said Reya. She shifted thesheet around trying unsuccessfully to get to the wax and still avoidexposing me. “It’s on your hips. We’ll just have to improvise. Try tosort of brace yourself with one knee while I get the other one, and I’lltry not to show the other women your, uh …””I think we’ve already seen that,” said Ruby, getting a laugh from theentire shop. This was turning into a nightmare.”What’s that bandaging?” asked Reya.”He rubbed all the skin off masturbating and he’s bandaged up,” saidRuby. Another huge laugh. Reya blushed and covered her mouth. “Sorry,apparently I’m the only one who missed that,” she said.She set about pressing the cloth strips to the wax and ripping them off.She got the wax off me before Anya was through cleaning up.”Here, I’m about done. Want me to finish him … her … whatever … up?””Either way,” said Reya. She turned to me. “You can go back over therenow. It’ll be easier to finish up on the table.”Still holding my bra, skirt and top, I gathered my sheet around me asbest I could, tucking it under my elbows, and started back across theroom. The sheet had snagged on the chair, and my elbows couldn’t holdit. The sheet fell away, and I was left standing naked. I held down myclothes to cover myself.Ruby laughed and applauded, joined by two others.”I’ll get it,” said Reya. “You just go on over there.” I hobbled to thetable and put my clothes on it to free my hands, turning to close thecurtain. In my confusion, it hadn’t occurred to me that I was exposingmy full nakedness to the entire shop before I was able to close thecurtain.”Woohoo!!” said Phyllis. But the others, sensing the awkwardness of themoment, didn’t join her this time.Reya settled me onto the table. She called out to Anya, “Why don’t Ijust finish her up since I’m already in here,” she said.”That’s fine. I’m going to go finish my smoke,” said Anya.Reya turned back to me. “You want a d****? I mean, there’s not muchpoint now, and we’re about to do that area anyway, but…”She pulled back the curtain, exposing my bandaged cock, and began waxingmy public hair.”You know, you really need a shave and a wig, and maybe some makeup. Butthen we all go out sometimes without fixing ourselves up, don’t we? So,um, do you mind if I ask you a question? This is sort of unusual,” Reyasaid.”I guess not.””So you really, uh, kind of wore out the skin?”I gave the answer I had been instructed. “Yes. The lady outside wasright. I’m a chronic masturbator, and it had to be bandaged to heal.””That’s good,” said Reya. “It’s good to have a healthy sex drive.””Most people don’t think it’s a healthy habit,” I said, not knowing whatelse to do but continue the conversation. I kept my voice as low aspossible, but it had become obvious that the curtain did nothing tomuffle the sound, which could be heard by the whole shop.”Are you uncomfortable talking about it?””A bit, yes.””Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that we wax women’s bits all day, and I thinkit’s great, because the sex is so much better with a completely hairlesspussy … I mean, genital area … they all get addicted to it. I’m the onewho did Erin last week, you know.””No, I didn’t know. I didn’t even realize she knew about this shop.””Oh yes. I’ve been doing her for six months, and she’s been raving abouthow much better the sex is. I hope you’ve been enjoying it as much asshe has. What do you think of that clitoral hood piercing she got?””Actually, I hadn’t realized … never mind,” I said. I was about to notethat I hadn’t seen Erin’s hairless pussy, because I hadn’t been near itin months, but I remembered just in time that the whole shop waslistening. So had Erin been lying about the sex being so great, or wasshe screwing somebody else?Reya prattled on. “I also do one of your office friends, Shelly, too. Infact, we’re Facebook friends. That’s how I knew you were looking forsomeone to do your waxing. I was the one who posted that we could doit,” she said.I sighed.”Great, I guess everybody knows,” I said.”I’m afraid so, yes.”By the time she finished waxing, there had been a complete turnover ofcustomers outside the curtain. At least the redheaded bitch Ruby wasgone. After a while, as she was waxing the final areas, Reya got chattyagain.”You know, I know this has been uncomfortable for you. Were you about tosay you hadn’t noticed your wife was getting waxed?””Maybe.””Oh. Well, that is awkward. Is that why you masturbate so much?” shesaid.”Maybe.””Well, that’s what masturbation is about, isn’t it? Taking care ofyourself when you aren’t getting any. Though I think you’d like being inErin’s bare pussy better than rubbing yourself raw. You know, if that’savailable.””I hate I flashed everybody in the shop,” I said.”Think of things this way. Even with everything that’s happened, nobodyhas actually seen you. The bandages and tape have your bits completelycovered. You’re probably even legal if you walked ot of here like this.””If you don’t mind, I think I won’t try.”Finally, we were done. I pulled on my tiny skirt and tube top and wentto check out.”Just one more thing,” said Reya.”What’s that?””We have a tradition. We take a picture with each client after theservice so we can put it on our Facebook page. Anya, would you do thehonors?””With pleasure,” she said. I complied, having been instructed to doexactly as I was told.Fortunately, the waxing had taken long enough for the lunchtime crowd atIra’s to thin out. I kept my head turned away and held onto the railtightly as I ısparta escort bayan walked down the stairs, got into the car and headed home. Ilooked at the clock on the dashboard and saw that it was only 3. Iwondered what else could happen in the rest of the day.It was late Sunday morning, a time when I had hoped Keri would let merecover a bit from Saturday’s intensely humiliating venture to the waxingstudio, along with my exposure via social media. In keeping with herthreat to keep me dressed in the skimpy outfits I’d bought for my secretcrossdressing, she had me in a crop top and a school girl pleated skirtthat was so short my heavily bandaged penis showed below the hem. Nounderwear. That wasn’t being allowed these days. Five-inch pink stilettopumps with a pointed toe finished out the outfit.”I want some croissants for lunch, with some of that wonderful rotisseriechicken salad they sell at Costco. Run over there and get what we’llneed.””Yes ma’am. May I change first?””You can wear the red panties. Tuck in your package. They’ll keep youlegal, not that I care much. Now go. And get enough for four. We’rehaving company for lunch.”That frightened me. I put on the panties, tucked in my gauzed dick andtripped out to the car dressed as I was. Costco was about a five-minutedrive, and I was in there pretty much every day, so I dreaded seeing allthe employees and neighbors dressed in an outfit meant to wear only inprivate.The parking lot was packed, and I had a long walk from the car. The womanchecking ID cards at the door greeted me with a smirk.”Hello Ms. Andrews. You look lovely today.”I walked past her as quickly as I could, which wasn’t very fast, andwithout a word. The bakery and deli were located in the very back of thestore, so I had to walk through the huge electronics department, and pastthe aisles for clothes, batteries, vacuum cleaners and other items.When I got to the bakery, I couldn’t find the croissants, so I calledErin.”Well, you’ll just have to go to the counter and ask,” she said.I did so, and the fifty-something man behind the counter shook his head.”Sorry, uh, bub, but you’ll need to talk to the bakery manager. She’sback in the produce storage area right now.”The produce area was a refrigerator, and would be cold even for someonewearing a jacket. In my skimpy outfit, I began shivering immediately. Iasked an employee who was stocking, and he said, “Yeah, she’s back there.She’ll be out in a minute.”Five minutes later, she still wasn’t out, and I was shivering so much myteeth were chattering. Then she stuck her head out.”Well hello, Ms. Andrews! Sorry for the wait. Just sit on that metalcrate over there and I’ll be right out.”The crate was in the coldest part of the refrigerator, and my skirt wasso short that my bare skin was on it. After another 10 minutes, themanager emerged.”I’m really sorry for the wait! Oh goodness, I didn’t realize you weren’treally dressed for the weather in here. Come on and I’ll find you somecroissants.”She walked out in front of me without waiting for me to come along in myinsane heels. The bakery area was full of people, but at least it waswarmer. She pointed to a rack.”I’m afraid the croissants are on that top rack. I can get somebody tocome get them down if you don’t mind waiting. Otherwise, you can use thissmall stepladder.”I smoothed my micro miniskirt down and stepped up as discreetly as Icould. The first step wasn’t enough, so I had to go up another, thenreach up with my arms. I was aware that this was causing my skirt to rideup, exposing everything beneath. I became vaguely aware of a flash andlooked down. Several people were taking pictures.”Give us a big smile, Miss Jeri,” said a familiar voice. It was Phoebie,our neighbor from two doors down. “I saw you working this outfit in thekitchen, but I didn’t realize you’d venture out to Costco that way,” shesaid.”Well, maybe I shouldn’t have,” I said.”You look terrible,” she said. “You need to get into some makeup and dosomething with your hair. Tell Erin to call me if she needs arecommendation Or she can contact me on Facebook. Actually, I justreached out to her,” she said. She turned her phone around to show me aphoto she had just taken. “I have one of you on the ladder I don’t thinkFacebook will allow, but I posted this one,” she said. It showed mefacing her, easily recognizable. I was tagged in the photo, meaning allmy growing list of Facebook “friends” would see it.”Thanks for the advice,” I said. I found the chicken salad without anytrouble and headed back out to the car.I got home to see a car in the driveway I didn’t recognize. I parked onthe street and went to the front door, ringing the bell. Erin hadconfis**ted my house keys and required that I park on the street,apparently to show me off to the neighbors.”I can’t figure out this fancy door. Jeri’ll be back in just a minute,I’m sure,” said a voice I recognized as my office associate Shelly. Ittook another six or seven minutes until the door opened, and I wasallowed inside.Shelly seemed amused and looked me over with an overstated feignedthoughtfulness. “She’s not dressing for work like this tomorrow, is she?””No, of course not,” said Erin. “So how do you think the reception hasbeen at the office?””Jeri was always popular and still is. It’s a very broad minded place.But honestly, while it’s been a fun diversion for a lot of folks, but Idon’t think it should be a permanent spectacle. It’s bad forproductivity,” said Shelly.”What would help?” asked Erin.”I think Jeri has to present as a full male or a full female, then peoplecan get used to it and adapt.””Male is out of the question,” said Erin. “With those eyes.””Then Jeri needs to become convincing as a female,” said Shelly. Sheturned to me and asked, “How about it? What do you think?”Erin interrupted: “What Jeri thinks doesn’t matter. Her poor judgementgot her into this mess. From here on, decisions need to be left to thosewho can be more responsible.” She turned to me. “And who might that be,Jeri?””You,” I answered softly. Turning to Shelly, I said, “I have asked Erinto make all decisions regarding my personal life, since I’ve made such amess of things.”The doorbell rang. “Get it,” said Erin. Our fourth for lunch was Helen,the marketing director for the company.”Excellent timing!” said Erin. “We were just talking about the next stepsin managing Jeri’s career, among other things. Shelly said the reactionhasn’t been entirely positive to the changes.””It’s nothing we can’t manage. Should I call Jeri a he or she?” askedHelen.”Whichever is most comfortable to you,” said Erin.”That’s just it. Having this muddy status gets complicated from amanagement perspective, because we have all those personnel matters todeal with. However, there’s one way around all that, if you’re truly in aposition to make all the decisions. You can form an LLC and we canoutsource Jeri’s job to you. He … she would be your employee, and we’dpay you for … her services. Since you’re also married, you wouldn’thave the complications of personnel and nondiscrimination issues, andwe’d be free of the bureaucracy and regulatory concerns.””What would the pay be?””Her current salary plus medical benefits, without taxes taken out, ofcourse. We’d write you a check every month. What you pay … her …would be entirely between the two of you,” said Helen.”Great,” said Helen. “I’ll have Legal draw up the papers, and they’llhandle your incorporation as a courtesy. We can probably have everythingready to sign by Tuesday. I assume she’ll present as female?”I spoke up: “That wasn’t really what I had in …”Erin slapped him across the face so suddenly and so hard that he felldown, and his lip began to bleed. “I’ll decide that by the end of theday. I’m sorry you both had to witness that.””It’s absolutely none of our business what you do in your own home,” saidHelen. “I’ll note that you will also be allowed to participate in her jobdescription, requirements, supervisory practices and disciplinary policy.I would, however, be grateful for some clear signal on the genderquestion.””Jeri has made it clear that she is transsexual. I think it’s only humanethat we do all we can to help her achieve her best self,” said Erin.”Would her health insurance cover any of the cost?””I anticipated that question and asked our benefits group. The answer isyes for the big part.” She pulled a booklet out of her briefcase. “Itcovers Intersex surgery; male to female [a series of staged proceduresthat includes male genitalia removal, penile dissection, urethraltransposition, creation of vagina and labia with stent placement].””So as I interpret that, insurance will cover cutting off the dick andballs, moving the peehole, and giving her a pussy?””Exactly. Under this arrangement, you’ll have to pay for the boobs, butthey’re not that expensive.””But that’s not what I want,” said Jeri, earning him another slap. Erinturned to Helen and asked, “Can we write the supervisory and disciplinaryrestrictions to allow you and other employees to handle matters likethis? We need to discourage this kind of behavior.””You can allow anything you see fit, as long as it’s legal. For example,hitting her could be considered assault, so it’s probably best to leavethat out of the agreement, though you could have … privateunderstandings with a select few who have more discretion in private,”said Helen.”So if this had occurred in the office, can you demonstrate how such, uh,private action might look?””Certainly,” said Helen. She got in Jeri’s face and said, “Listen,girlie. We’re not putting up with this shit any more.” She pulled downJeri’s miniskirt, then roughly jerked away the white gauze, exposing hiscock and balls. “This office, and the world, will be a better place whenthese abominations are thrown out in the daily garbage. I mean, look –you’re sticking straight out! When we get that thing cut off, I’m goingto ask Erin to have a cast made and mounted so we can put it in thecompany trophy case,” she said.Helen turned to Erin: “So how was that?””Perfect. What about other employees??””Her duties can include anything we demand, as long as you don’texpressly forbid it. We can also delegate full supervisory authority toany other employee. If you like, she can be subject to disciplinaryaction by anybody in the company. A newly hired temp would have fullauthority to send her to scrub toilets, or to castigate her in public forany reason. Or to send her to me or Shelly for more personal,discretionary action.””What do you recommend for the public no-no list?” Erin asked.”Obviously, hitting is out. And we can’t have people exposing her …parts … in public areas. Anything like time out, sitting in thecorner, assigning extra work or even humiliation is fair game,” Helensaid.”OK, let’s write it up that way and get started asap. I know the SRS willtake time because of the various psych hoops, but she’s going to haveboobs as soon as I can afford it.””There is one more option we can pursue — one that would speed thingsup, provide us a major marketing asset and relieve you of any of the …transition costs. How would you feel about making Jeri the face of ourcompany? Her photo would be on all of our marketing materials, and thegimmick is that she wouldn’t be a model nobody ever sees. She’ll be therein the office every day, or going out to interact with prospects orcustomers. And of course, she’ll be all over the Internet,” said Helen.”She already IS kind of a big deal on the Internet,” said Shelly.”So what’s the catch?” said Erin.”We’ll handle all the details of the transition. Not just the genderreassignment surgery, but the boobs, body reshaping, voice, lips andother facial plastic surgery, and all the hormone treatments she needs.If she’s going to be the face of the company, she has to look justright.””I don’t want her to be turned into a freak,” said Erin.”She won’t be, but she’ll be a bombshell, with a perfect body, and thecompany will pay for every penny. So what do you say?””Sounds perfect to me. Do I get to make the, uh, appearance decisions?””You can have a role, but I really think it’s best to leave that to thedoctors and their consulting estheticians, based on the physicalpotential and our marketing needs.””So where does it start?” Erin asked.”As soon as the papers are signed Tuesday, Jeri will be sent to theclinic to begin hormone treatments and some of the secondary surgicalprocedures. Here’s where they start. It usually includes a facelift,work on the eyelids, feminization of the browbone, cheekbones and chin,and shaving of the larynx. And they can go ahead with the orchiectomy ifyou approve.””What’s that?” asked Jeri, speaking out of turn.”Cutting your balls off, not that it’s any of your business,” saidShelly.”Very good,” said Erin, clapping. Helen continued:”She’ll be in the hospital for a week or so, and when she returns home,she’ll need a few weeks of paid time off. You’ll need to be sensitive tothe fact that she’ll be loaded up with estrogen, as well as anti-androgens. You can expect her to be very emotional. Having the balls gonewill make the hormones work even faster,” Helen said.”Why can they cut the balls off so soon?””Because that doesn’t make her a female, so it’s not a sex change. Itjust makes her a male without balls, which in this case will be animprovement,” said Helen. “During her time off, she’ll be on a verystrict diet to lose about 25 pounds, which will be followed byliposuction to really sculpt her body. In the next few months, there willalso be such things as a tummy tuck, implants to calves and buttocks. Bythis time, we’ll have a clearer picture of the final shape of her faceand body, and it will be possible to make decisions on breast and lipaugmentation. At this point, we’re about nine months into the process,and Jeri will be starting to have all kinds of feminine feelings,including a female sex drive. It’s impossible to know in advance whatform this will take, whether she’ll want sex with women, men or both, butthe psych people encourage that any such feelings be indulged consistentwith her safety,” said Helen.”When the surgery has healed, will her girl parts be, uh …””Fuckable? Oh my yes. And the way she’s going to look, she’ll have plentyof opportunities, subject to your willingness to allow her to accommodatethem. The hormones will also probably have her craving tons of sex, soyou could have a little nymphomaniac on your hand.”Erin thought a moment. “What you’re asking will potentially provide farmore value to the company than her existing job. I think we’re going toneed to be paid accordingly.””I’ll send that up the line, and we’ll deal with it Tuesday. So how aboutit, do we have an appointment for, say, 9 a.m. Tuesday?””Indeed we do,” said Helen, and they left.

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