"Let me see if I have this straight," Janice retorted angrily. "You had sex with one of my patients?"
"I didn't know he - she - was one of your patients," I argued.
The clinic was her baby from the start. Instead of the helter-skelter approach that had been the norm, Janice combined all the services - group therapy, individual analysis, endocrinology, and surgical facilities - under one roof. She handles referrals from all over the world, ranging from men who just like to wear their wives' panties to gender-reassignments. Her world and mine, as a commodities trader, had never collided - until now.
"Oh, well, that makes it all right! As long as you were blissfully ignorant of my professional relationship with her, I shouldn't worry about little details like `fidelity' or `marriage vows'," she replied sarcastically. "So, if you didn't know Jade was a patient of mine, exactly how did the two of you happen to wind up together?"
"I met her at Tush Street."
"Tush Street! That place is notorious as a pick-up joint for transsexual hookers! What were you doing there in the first place?"
"Because I didn't want to spend another evening alone! I hardly ever see you anymore; you are either at your office or in the clinic. You talk about your `girls' as though they were your children. If I see you at all, I'm lucky to get a peck on the cheek. I wanted to do something different tonight, preferably with a real live person. I had never met a transsexual before, let alone one of your `girls'. I wanted to meet one, talk to her, just get to know her. I had heard a lot of TS's went there, so I checked it out. Jade was there. She was beautiful. I was attracted. We talked. We had a couple of drinks. She propositioned me. In a moment of weakness, I said `yes'. Neither one of us mentioned you or the clinic. How was I to know she was one of your patients?"
"Hold the phone, Buster," Janice snorted. "She propositioned you? You KNEW she was hooking, and you said YES? You mean, YOU PAID FOR IT?" She closed her eyes, groaned, and slapped her forehead. When she looked at me again, her eyes blazed.
"Well, Richard, you had a busy night last night. Not only did you destroy my trust in you; you managed to undo six months of delicate psychotherapy. Since you want so much to know more about my `girls', I will tell you. Jade is my most difficult case. She seemed like an ideal candidate for SRS, and she has no problems functioning as a woman - except one. She has a compulsive need to be loved. She hid, until after her surgery, the fact that she had been abandoned as a child by both her father AND mother. If I had known beforehand, I would have delayed the operation and done more extensive therapy. She probably realized that. Her compulsion manifests itself by driving her to hook. Unlike other transsexual hookers, Jade doesn't do it for the money; it doesn't really interest her. The money, and the false sense of self-worth it engenders, fuels her self-destructive desire to be `wanted' by someone - anyone. I thought I had finally straightened her out and convinced her to stay off the streets. I don't even know why she went back to that place; old habits, I guess. And then, here comes Good Old Richard, with hard cash and a hard-on. That was just like giving Smack to a junkie. Now, she's `hooked' again, in more ways than one. It will take me months to get her back to where she was, if she comes back to the clinic at all! I have been trying to reach her all day. She missed her regular appointment this morning. She's probably out hustling right now. I have some of the other girls out looking for her. Thanks a lot. You can sleep on the couch tonight."
I felt a lot smaller than my usual 5'8" and 145 lbs. I lay awake on the couch for hours in the dark, trying to think up some way to make amends to Janice, whom I really did love. I finally drifted off into a troubled sleep. I awoke with a start; at what time, I couldn't guess. Several pairs of strong hands were holding me down, preventing me from moving. Just as I was about to cry out for Janice, a cloth was clamped over my mouth and nose; a cloth that had a pungent, penetrating odor. In a few seconds, I saw stars - then, nothing. I regained conciousness, sort of, and tried to take stock of where I was and what had happened to me. Was it still dark outside, or was it just me? I was lethargic, disoriented; unable to summon up enough resolve to get up. I slowly scanned my environment, and through the fog surrounding my brain, I deduced that I was in some sort of hospital room. There was an IV stand next to the bed; the bottle hanging from the rack was connected by a long tube to a needle stuck in my arm. The clinic? No; why would I be there? I focused on voices speaking right outside the open door. I couldn't quite make out the conversation, but I thought I heard the word `Gemini'. Then two women in long white doctor's coats entered the room. One beamed radiantly at me. JANICE! I was completely lost; what was going on? I tried to speak, but could barely make a sound.
"Good morning, Richard! Don't try to move or speak; you are sedated. Just lie there like a good boy. This is Dr. Collins, my Chief of Surgery. I am really disappointed in you, Richard. You betrayed my trust in you. That hurt. That hurt a lot. I suppose I SHOULD be flattered that you were attracted to Jade; she is my best work to date. Or, at least she was, until you screwed her up again. I thought about it after I went to bed last night, and the more I dwelled on it, the angrier I got. So I made a few phone calls. One nice thing about being Director here is that the entire staff is intensely loyal to me. They all turned out in the middle of the night to help me set up a little surprise - just for you! Since you expressed your attraction to my `girls', and you seem to prefer their company to mine, I thought you might like to become one of them. Usually, that process takes a couple of years, with psychological screening, councilling, slow, methodical hormone therapy, breast implants, plastic surgery, right up to the blessed event itself - The Sex Change! But for you, Sweetheart, I am going to cut through all the red tape. We are going to concentrate the efforts of all our departments to help you make your transition as quickly as possible, and I am going to see to it PERSONALLY that you are psychologically prepared for your new role - AS A WOMAN! So, you just relax, and let me take care of everything. See you soon, Sweetie!"
She turned a dial on the IV bottle, and before I could make even a feeble protest, everything went black. A long time passed. Days? Weeks? I couldn't tell; it seemed like an eternity. I had been sedated the entire time, drifting in and out of conciousness, enjoying only occasional moments of semi-lucidity. I retained flashes of images and sensations, like a strobe light gone mad; operating rooms, masked medical personnel, tubes, needles - lots of needles - pain in my face, throat, chest, abdomen, groin. There were other, more disturbing images as well. A Beauty parlor. Fingernails. Hair. Fur in my eyes. Janice's office. Janice's office? Yes. The diplomas on the wall. The small potted palm in the corner. I'm walking towards a woman, while she approaches me. Before we reach, I turn and walk back again. Towards her again; away from her again. Back and forth, back and forth. I'm growing. I'm getting taller each time I go back and forth. How much taller will I get? I'm rocking; swaying back and forth. I'm on a boat? No, I'm on land, but I'm swaying back and forth. Sit. Stand. Sit. Cross my legs. Uncross my legs. Re-cross my legs. The couch. Me on the couch. Janice`s face over mine, speaking slowly, clearly, authoritatively. It made me feel calm, relaxed, soothed. I drifted slowly, dreamily into conciousness. I felt relaxed, refreshed, as if I were Rip Van Winkle awaking after a twenty-year nap. I was in Janice's office, sitting in the chair across the desk from my wife. She was looking me up and down appraisingly, obviously pleased with what she saw.
"Hello, Richard. I wanted to take this last opportunity to speak to you; We won't talk again for a while. Oh, I will see you all right, but you won't be `Richard' anymore; You will be `Amber'. I thought the name was so sweet, and fit your beautiful golden hair. I must say, you are my best effort yet; even better than Jade. Why don't you stand up and take a look at yourself in the mirror?"
I felt as though I had received a commandment from God. I gracefully(?) uncrossed my legs and stood up. I felt incredibly light - except for an unfamiliar weight in my chest - and tall. So tall! I turned and approached the mirror, stopped a moment; then moved on. There was an incredibly attractive blonde approaching me from the other side of the room, swivelling her hips fluidly, sensually from side to side, just like in my dream. She stopped at the same time as I, then resumed her provocative strut. Only as I reached the mirror did it dawn on me that the Blonde was me! She - I - had a magnificent body, poured into a bright-red pucker-knit tank dress. My incredibly-full, rounded breasts threatened to spill out of their skimpy confinement. It was very obvious that I wore no bra, and my nipples pressed invitingly against the thin material. My tiny waist was highlighted by a tightly-cinched wide black patent leather belt. My hips and tush flaired dramatically, and swayed back and forth without any concious thought. My long, slender legs were encased in whisper-sheer black stockings, ending in black patent pumps with what appeared to be five-inch spike heels. No wonder I felt so tall! I wore several gold chains around my neck, huge gold hoops through my pierced ears, six gold bangle bracelets on each slender wrist - which jangled musically as i moved - and a slender gold chain around my left ankle. I pivotted expertly on my toes, hands on my hips, admiring my shapely legs and the seams of my stockings. I hadn't even thought about it, and I was posing like a fashion model! My golden-blonde mane cascaded over my shoulders and down my back in full, fluffy waves which gently bounced, just like my breasts, as I moved. My make-up was dramatically overdone. My green eyes were bigger, wider-set, and more expressive than ever before, shadowed in lime, emerald, and teal, and completely outlined in black. The fur in, or rather on, my eyes was real enough; My lashes were fuller, thicker, and blacker than any showgirl's. A deep, dusky rose blush made my impossibly-prominent cheekbones smoulder. My nose was now small, slender, delicate. I had the fullest, plumpest, most-kissable ruby-red lips I had ever seen on a woman. I raised my fingertips to my lips, and was startled to see long, square-tipped scarlet nails at the end of each.
"Janice! What have yo..."
I stopped cold. MY VOICE! That isn't my voice! This voice is so much higher, softer, lilting.
"Janice, PLEASE, tell me what this is all about!"
"Why Honey, I think it is perfectly obvious what this is all about! You are a woman now; just like the ones you liked to fuck as a man. It has been such a treat over the last three months, turning you into a little blonde bimbo; well, not so little. I used textured saline implants on you and pumped them up REALLY full - I know how much you like women with BIG boobs! We put implants in your hips too; then liposuctioned most of the fat out of your waist, and re-injected it around your hips and fanny to fill you out. We have kept you in corsets since the liposuction, to make sure your waist was compressed down to a handspan, just like it should be. The diet we put you on helped in that department, too; you are down to 120 pounds now, and on you, it looks great! You measure 38D-22-36 now. I can just picture you - the OLD you - seeing a woman like this at Tush Street. You would have been all over yourself trying to stick your cock into her. But you aren't going to do THAT anymore; not to Jade, not to me, not to ANYONE! The simple truth is; you can't! When we made you a woman, we were VERY thorough; you have all the right `plumbing' as well."
"You mean I..."
"That's right, Sweetie! You have a nice, tight, juicy pussy, along with all your other womanly attributes. You have been on hormones for three months now, and you are rounding out nicely; not as angular as you were when we first operated on you. Your Adam's apple is shaved, and I just LOVE your soft, musical voice! We have come up with a new feature for you which I am especially proud of. The special medication you will be taking, in conjunction with your cyclical hormone dosages, will give you a real, honest-to-goodness period! You will have sensitive breasts, cramps, discharge, and have to wear a tampon, just like a real woman!
"But - but, I'm still me; I mean, I'm still Richard."
Janice smiled wickedly, and evil glint in her eyes.
"Not for long, Hon. Do you remember that first day in the clinic? I told you I would PERSONALLY see to it that you were psychologically prepared for your new role - and you are! You have been under an intense program of hypnotherapy, during which I have fashioned your new identity and personality. You may have noticed that your body moves in an entirely different way now; very gracefully, very femininely. It doesn't belong to you anymore, Richard; it is AMBER's body now, just waiting for her to `move in'. You would love Amber, Richard. She is just your type; very friendly, not too bright, flashy, trashy, adores flaunting her body for everyone to see, and loves to fuck! I am particularly pleased with that; every girl should enjoy her work."
"You mean I'm..."
"...a prostitute? Yes! The most talented I have ever seen; I have `trained' you on some of my male staff. You actually had sex with them here in the clinic, but you will have many wonderful memories - implanted by me - of servicing them on the streets. You are a first-class `working girl' now, and your `office' will be Tush Street! I plan to stop in sometime to watch you `strut your stuff'.
"But I don't feel any different. I don't remember any of those things."
"At the moment, no. But I have set you up with a couple of post-hypnotic commands, which only work to the sound of MY voice. When I use one, `Richard' disappears and `Amber' takes over, with all of her memories and none of Richard's whatsoever. When I use the other, `Amber' goes sleepy-pie, and `Richard' comes back, but with memories of everything `Amber' has done. I can turn you on and off like a light! As Amber, you will be one of my `girls', and will come in every week for therapy, medication, etc. I will bring `Richard' out every once in a while to see how he is enjoying his new lifestyle. Oh, by the way; don't worry about being `missed' down at the Board of Trade. They won't be expecting you. While you were `under', I had you sign over to me a Power of Attorney. I sent them a letter, which you signed, stating that you were taking a sabbatical to find the `real you'; then, I rented out your seat. That will be a nice extra source of income; for me, not for you. You earn yours hustling - Sugar. So, are we all ready? Sleep tight, Richard. CHECK YOUR MAKE-UP, AMBER!
Where am I? Oh. Giggle. I must have spaced out for a minute. Silly Ditz! I'm in Dr. Foster's office for my weekly session. I flashed her my most fetching smile.
"Janice! How WONDERFUL it is to see you again! Am I late?"
She beamed at me and flashed me a wink.
"Not at all, Amber. You are right on time. Come sit down, and we'll catch up on the latest gossip."