----------=BigCloset Retro Classic!=----------

Unfinished Business Part 1 By Brianna Luna Copyright© 2009, 2016 Brianna Luna All Rights Reserved. With his life and family destroyed, Richard finds hope and salvation in continuing to live life, albeit differently - by letting Ingrid come out to play!

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Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf on Monday 07-20-2009 at 12:08:51 am, this retro classic was pulled out of the closet, and re-presented for our newer readers. ~Sephrena

Image Credit: Artwork by Brianna Luna
 
Part 1
 
Saturday, November 30, 2007
12:45 AM
Hotel Adlon, Berlin

Richard rolled over and snuggled into the thick blankets, trying hard to clear his mind and get to sleep. It had been a very long day and he was tired to the bone. Richard's father, Mr. Richard Wolfe Jr. (Yes, Richard was Richard the third but that hadn't occurred to him yet) had recently taken the job as an attache to the US Consulate in Berlin and the family had just spent it's second week in the country. Richard could hear his parents milling around in their bedroom right on the other side of the wall in their suite, but thanks to old thick walls he couldn't hear what they were saying. Richard smiled and brushed his long hair out of his face. Much to his chagrin his father had told him he would be cutting his hair soon, so that he would present the right image when they were out in public. But Richard was glad to get out of Washington DC for a fresh start here in Berlin. There had been a little hubbub the previous year when he and another boy at school got caught kissing at a school party. It was just experimentation, Richard thought, nothing to crucify someone over. But now they were in Berlin and things were going to be different. He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the huge bed slowly sucking him into sleep.

Richard awoke with a start. There was a loud noise coming from his parent's room. He lept out of the bed and padded across the cold parquet floor towards the door. His heart was pounding, adrenaline surged through him. What's going on, he thought, what hte hell's happening? He froze when he heard a woman's scream from next door. He opened the door and rushed into the suite's living room and noticed that the door to his parent's room was open. There were shadows moving inside. He rushed to the side of the door and peered in.

Two large men were in the room, standing off to the side of the bed. Both men were big with thick necks and low brows. Mean looking fellows in big black leather coats. Richard's heart lept to his throat.

"You should have minded your own business, Mister Wolfe." someone said, someone else in the room. His accent was German, but not so thick that Richard had any trouble understanding him. "We told you it would be better for you if you would...what is the American saying...Played ball?"

The big men laughed. Richard could hear struggling and muffled cries. "But, now we must make a statement, no?" Richard heard footsteps in the room followed by another very muffled cry. His mother's cry. "Such a lovely woman. Pity." There was a loud meaty slap, followed by more muffled screams and the laughter of the goons.

He couldn't take it anymore. Before he knew what he was doing, Richard had thrown himself into the room and was attacking the nearest man. He rushed him, taking the man by surprise. Unfortunately, Richards tall, skinny frame did little but stagger the big man, who quickly had Richard painfully restrained. It wasn't until the man had him in a bear hug, a huge smelly hand clamped over his mouth that Richard realized exactly how bad the situation was. Richard's mother was hogtied on the bed, a makeshift gag shoved in her mouth. HIs father was also tied up and gagged. Both had been severely beaten and his mother's eyes were wide with terror, streaming tears. He father only struggled impotently against his bonds.

The man who had spoken earlier, a tall thin fellow with a shock of platinum blonde hair turned to the other men and yelled at them in German, apparently dressing them down for not checking the rest of the suite. "So...there is a young one." he said, walking over to Richard. He reached out and pushed the hair out of Richard's face where tears had plastered it to his cheeks. "Not much of a man are you." he said, taking in Richard's small, skinny frame as the boy stood their fighting against his captor. "Well...too bad you'll never get a chance to grow into one. " The man tore off another piece of sheet and quickly gagged Richard, talking as he worked. 'You see...you're father thought he was going to be "the new sheriff in town" apparently. Thought he would get in here and clean up Berlin. That...we cannot let happen. The people we work for, Mr. Wolfe....The people you should have worked for, have very important interests that we can't just let be brought into the open. So...." the man stood up, happy with his work. "We've done a little work to ensure that this will not link our cause to you."

The man opened a case and showed it to them all. It contained hundreds of small bags of white powder, neatly arranged. "Heroin. Straight from Afghanistan's fields. About a million Euros worth, give or take a little. We took the liberty of planting some other evidence that will make it look like you've been involved in this trade for quite a while and that you double crossed some of your suppliers since the war started. So...Mr. Wolfe...We are going to make this look like the Russian mob did this to you to send a message. Like I said....You should have played ball."

Richard was unable to tear his eyes away from the horror show that played out in front of him. Soon, but not soon enough, it was over. The blonde man turned to him, knife flashing. Teeth shining. Then a world of pain overtook Richard. He screamed as loud as he could, screamed until he couldn't scream any more. His mind shut down. He was detached. Cold. Bleeding to death, he thought, dying.

Chapter 2.
 

Bright light. Frantic talking and yelling in German. A feeling of motion. Richard's eyes opened. Lights zipped by, faces came in and out of focus. Eyes closed. Pain. Richard screamed. It was a high pitched wail that hurt his ears and burned his throat. He felt a cold sensation in his arm and looked down. A nurse was injecting something into his IV. The blackness returned.

Richard's eyes finally opened again. He was in a dimly lit room, a rhythmic beeping sounded from the corner of the room. He was tucked in a bed, the covers pulled up to his neck. He couldn't move. Fortunately, there was no pain, only a numbness he couldn't explain. The fear returned. Flashes of unreal horror that he couldn't shake. Tears came. Richard started sobbing uncontrollable. A nurse rushed in and tried to calm him, talking soothingly in German. It didn't help. the more she tried to calm him down, the more inconsolable he became. More staff showed up and eventually, he was sedated.

"Mr. Wolfe." A voice said. A male voice, German accent. Richard opened his eyes. Again, he didn't know where he was. He'd been restrained and struggled against his bonds, face twisting with effort. "Mr. Wolfe. Please, calm down. I'm Dr. Vogler....You are in the Trauma Center Berlin. You've been terribly injured and you are going to injure yourself more if you struggle."

Richard looked around. It a hospital. Sunlight streamed in through the blinds, painting horizontal lines on the walls. Richard opened his mouth to speak. His tongue felt swolen and he could hardly speak. "Water." he croaked. A nurse brought him some water. He nodded thanks then gulped it down. Finally he thought he could speak. "What happened?" his voice sounded alien. It was hoarse and raspy.

The doctor started explaining everything that had happened to him, the litany of injury. Some of it he knew. His hand was broken, so was his nose. His throat was damaged.

"What?" Richard croaked "What did you just say?"

Doctor Vogler looked uncomfortable. "Your genitals were terribly damaged. Your femoral artery was severed...you almost bled to death. If a maid hadn't discovered you, you would be dead now..."

Richard shook his head.

"What happened to my genitals? What are you talking about?" Richard whispered.

"The attacker sliced open your scrotum....the damage was substantial. We had to perform an orchiectomy....we had to remove your testicles. I'm very sorry, Richard." the doctor said quietly.

"Removed my testicles?" Richard said. He was very angry now. He'd never even gotten to use them, and now they were gone. Richard closed his eyes. "Leave me alone." Richard whispered.

The doctor nodded. "I'll check on you in a little while Richard." He got up to leave.

"Doctor....did my parents....did either of my parents....."Richard started.

The doctor shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry Richard."

When the door closed Richard broke down in tears.

 
Richard turned when the door opened. His uncle, Fredrick Blake leaned in.

"Knock, knock." Uncle Fred said tapping on the door.

Richard was staring out the window, watching the snow blow through the trees. He smiled weakly at his uncle and sat down gingerly in the chair at his desk.

"Hey Uncle Fred." Richard said. His voice was still hoarse sounding and high pitched. His voice had never really changed, and now it never would.

"Hey champ...." Fred said, sitting down on the bed. "How're you feeling?"

Richard shrugged. He felt very uncomfortable. Tired. Tired of bad dreams. Tired of feeling alone. Tired of being scared.

"Ok I guess." He whispered.

Uncle Fred looked at him for a minute then nodded. "We haven't talked much about things since you...since the attack. I'm sorry about your folks, Rich....I really am. I can't say anything to make you feel better...I know that. But I can give you one piece of good news."

Richard looked up at him. His eyes were welling with tears.

"My brother...your father. He was innocent of the charges leveled against him. Your testimony, coupled with other information exonerated him. We are going to have to make some decisions soon...about your inheritance. Your parents were well off, Rich. You will be well taken care of. I'm the executor for the will...I'm going to hold out on making any decisions for a while...until you feel ready to give some input, ok?"

Richard nodded. He started crying. Uncle Fred walked over and took him in his arms and let him cry on his shoulder, his own sobs mingling with his nephew's. After a while, both of them could cry no more. Fred lifted his chin. "I'm going to go down and get Betty to make us some dinner ok? Come on down when you are ready."

Fred got up and left, stopping for a moment at the door. Richard and Fred's eyes locked for a moment, then Fred nodded and left. The door clicked behind him.

Richard stood up. He was still somewhat sore. It had been close to three weeks since the attack. His groin itched more than it hurt, though his muscles still seemed stiff all over. His broken hand was in a cast, as was his left leg. He stood and hobbled back to the window. Christmas was next week, he thought. There were no more tears, he didn't have it in him right now. He was spent. Tired. After a little while, he made his way down the stairs to the dining room. His aunt Betty took him in her arms and hugged him tightly, her eyes glistening with tears, reflecting the lights of the Christmas tree.

 

Mr. Harker, the family attorney, leaned forward on his elbows.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking at the documents. His eyes went to Fred first, then to Richard.

Richard nodded."yes." he said.

"Ok...We are going to keep the house exactly as it is now. The housekeeping staff will stay on, though in a diminished capacity. They will keep the house clean and in order. The funds are to be placed in a trust, which you will inherit in two parts. The first on your eighteenth birthday, the second on your twenty first. Your uncle will be your guardian and will be responsible for your upkeep. Auditory oversight will ensure your upkeep in an acceptable manner. Sounds good?"

Fred nodded, then took the pen and signed his name on the forms. Richard signed the other lines. It was done. The men shook hands and left the office.

"Are you ok, Rich?" Fred asked, putting his arm around the young man's small shoulders.

"Yeah....It just seems so final...you know?" Richard said, feeling very small.

"I know....I know. But, it's behind us now Rich. Time for us all to move on. We'll never forget, but we are still alive. Your parents would want it that way." Fred said.

"I know, Uncle Fred. I know." Richard said absently. "I know."

 

The next day school started back. Richard's friends had all heard what had happened in Germany. Everyone had heard about it, it had been big news on all the news channels for several weeks. Richard could feel their eyes on him as he walked through the school's halls. Richard felt distant, unable to connect with the other kids. Even the ones who'd been his friends before were now just people he had to deal with. He felt jealous of the other boys, the older ones who were beginning to turn into men. Something that would never happen to him now. Every time he thought about it, it reminded him of the mutilation he'd suffered and made him feel like crying. The day seemed to drag on forever.

Weeks passed. Richard lost himself in his studies, putting all of his effort into his school work. His grades, which had always been Bs, were now straight A's. His social life was non-existent. Richard withdrew completely from high school society, throwing himself entirely into study. Even Richard wasn't sure why he was studying so hard, trying so hard to learn, but it helped ease the pain and that was all that mattered.

By the end of the semester Richard had let all his friends fall to the wayside. He finished his tenth grade year with a 4,o average and the top of his class. He spent a lot of time studying, or reading. Very little time was spent on frivolous pursuits, though he did enjoy going with his Uncle to the shooting range and had become quite a fine shot with a pistol. Much to his uncle's chagrin, Richard signed up for a full slate of extra classes throughout the summer and threw himself into his studies with just as much gusto as he had during the regular school year.

It was only during the breaks from school, when Richard had nothing to occupy his time, that his depression returned. His sixteenth birthday was in July during the mid summer break from summer school. Richard had been spending an inordinate amount of time in the backyard, reading or just staring at the trees. Fred walked out and stood on the porch. He walked over to Richard and sat down on the chair across from him. Richard looked up at him and smiled wanly.

"Hey Uncle Fred." Richard said, putting down his book.

Uncle Fred looked back at the door then to Richard. He pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit it with a wooden match.

"Aghhh." Fred said, looking at the cigar then to Richard. "I needed that." he said with a grin.

"Aunt Betty will have your hide if she catches you with that." Richard said with a sideways grin.

"Yeah...If she comes out here I'm gonna act like I snatched it from you and start yelling at you...so get ready." Uncle
Fred said with a smile.

Richard laughed. "Thanks Uncle Fred."

"Hey...What are relatives for." Fred said with a chuckle. "You haven't said anything...but it is your birthday, kiddo."

Richard looked past him then shrugged. "Not feeling very....I dunno...Festive."

"Shit, boy." Richard said. "It's your sixteenth birthday. Special day."

Richard just shrugged. "I guess."

Fred smiled. "Well...I know you did great in driver's ed....and finished your license up right?"

Richard nodded. "Yeah...Just have to go down and get the form signed at the DMV."

Fred smiled around his cigar, then fished a set of keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Richard.

"Happy birthday, Richard." He said.

Richard looked down at the keys, then up to Fred. He recognized the keys. Aside from the car key and alarm fob,there were the keys to Fred and Betty's house, and the keys to His house...his parent's house. "Really?" he said, staring at the Mercedes key.

"Yep...Happy Birthday from me and Betty. You deserve it."

Richard hugged Fred tight, then the two of them climbed into his new Mercedes ML500 crossover SUV. Richard stroked the black leather interior and admired the gleaming black paint job. He beamed at Fred, looking happy for the first time in months.

After the second summer semester Richard got a one week break before the fall semester started. The same old malaise fell on him, pulling him down into depression. His therapist, whom he'd been seeing throughout his recovery, had prescribed him some anti-depressants but he didn't take them. HE wanted to remember. He didn't want the pain numbed, though he wasn't sure why. He never opened up to his therapist, but instead kept his own council. One morning, after leaving for a drive he realized that he had pulled up in front of his old house. He parked in the driveway, his heart in his throat. It was a majestic house, big and stately. An old ivy covered edifice that had been in his family's care for the last ninety years. He opened the door and got out. It was a hot northern Virginia morning. A slight breeze was blowing, flicking his long hair across his face. He walked up to the front door and unlocked it. The inside was just like he'd last seen it. Clean. Tidy, smelling faintly of lavender. He walked through the halls, through the living room and kitchen. Finally, he turned and headed up the stairs.

His room was as he'd left it, well, cleaner than he'd left it. His parent's suite was at the end of the hall, it's door open. He walked into their suite and looked around. The morning sunlight filled the room. Dust motes danced in the beams of light. Richard sat down on the floor and cried. He cried like he hadn't in months, all the old memories coming back. All the pain, all the heartache. That sort of crying can't go on long, so it eventually petered out leaving a dull ache in his heart. He stood up and went in the bathroom. His mother's things were still on the counter, not all of them of course, as many had been with them in Germany, but it looked much like it had all his life. He blew his nose and washed his face. Richard pulled his hair back in a pony tail and walked out of the bathroom.

His eyes stopped on a picture of his mother, Allison Wolfe.. She was beautiful An ex model, ex Miss Virginia. A tall, lean, blonde beauty. He'd always been told he looked like his mother, the same facial structure. The same slight build. Richard had figured he would grow out of it and start to look more like his father, but now that seemed unlikely. He took off his glasses and wiped a tear from his eyes. The sight of his mother brought it all back to him, especially here, months later in a place that still held the slight smell of her perfume, the faintest edge of cigarette smoke. He sat down in a chair next to the bed and cried again, though there was little force in it and it passed quickly. Finally, emotionally drained, he got up, wiped his eyes and put his glasses back on. He walked over and opened his father's closet. All the suits were hanging in their places, wrapped in plastic. He turned out the light and went to his mother's closet. It was much larger, filled with clothes. His mother had never given up her love of designer labels and the closet was full of them. She preferred classically styled clothes, leaning towards mid-nineteen sixty's glamour. Classic elegance, ah la Audrey Hepburn or Jackie O. He ran his fingers across the soft fabrics then stopped himself and turned out the light. He looked back only once as he left the driveway.

Halfway through his Junior year, Richard stopped at a coffee shop right outside of town. There were several other students from his school there, all enjoying the warmer than normal winter afternoon. Richard nodded to them and walked up to the counter.

"One moment, mam," the guy behind the counter had said, then looked at him again. "Sorry, man...What can I get for you?"

Richard looked over at the guys from his school and could feel the blood rushing to his face.

"It's OK...A cappuccino please." He said meekly.

That was happening a lot more recently. Since the orchiectomy, his weight had been redistributing itself at his hips and chest. His form was much more feminine than masculine now and he could hardly blame anyone for the mistake. Even in his school uniform he looked a bit like a girl in trousers and a blazer than he did a boy. He sat down in the corner and opened his computer.

The boys from his school left a little while later, Richard noted, looking up for a moment from his work. He sighed, then returned to his work.

"Richard..." he heard someone say quietly. It was a girls voice. He looked up. Emily Vandiveer was staring down at him, smiling. "I thought you'd left the country?" she said, taking a seat next to him.

Richard blushed. "Hey, Emily." he said, terribly conscious of his voice. "No...something happened, ended up coming back."

Emily grinned at him. They'd known each other forever, since they were kids. She went to Sacred Heart school, a prestigious girls school up the valley. She was still dressed in her school uniform, plaid skirt, blazer, white shirt and tie. She wore it with disdain and a sort of punk flare. The girl was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

"It's so good to see you!" she said, then gave him a big hug. "What have you been up to?"

Richard didn't know what to say. He sat there silently for a minute, then looked into her big blue eyes and something cracked. He started talking. "My parents were killed in Berlin. Right in front of me...part of some international plot that I really don't understand...." his voice was thick with emotion.

Emily didn't know what to say. She stared at him, horrified. Richard wasn't sure what to say. Emily leaned in and hugged him tightly. "Im' so sorry, Rich...I am. I didn't know." Her voice was wavering, like she was on the verge of tears herself.

Richard lay his head on her shoulder and started crying himself. He was trying hard not to completely break down but having a hard time keeping it under control. Eventually, he got it under control and looked up at her. She reached down and brushed hair out of his face. Richard started talking, telling her the whole story.

Emily listened closely, taking in the whole story. She didn't interrupt much, she just listened. After a little while, she fished in her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind?" she asked, pulling one out. Richard shook his head. She lit the cigarette and nodded for him to continue. He did. The dam had broken and it was all coming out now, the whole story, even parts he hadn't told his therapist.

Emily pulled out another cigarette and lit it. She noticed his story faltered. "Oh...You want one?" she asked, holding the pack out to him. They were Virginia Slims, just like his mother had smoked.

Richard looked at her for a second then shrugged. "Yeah...I think I do." He took the cigarette and her lighter. He'd never smoked before, not even as an experiment. It wasn't that he had anything against smoking, it's just something he'd never tried. He put the cigarette between his lips, careful not to get it too wet but still unsure of what he was doing. He brought the flame up to the tip and sucked in on the cigarette, The smoke flooded into his mouth, acrid. Thick. He inhaled a little bit, entirely by accident, and started coughing. Emily laughed.

"You ok?" she asked as he finished coughing. She took another drag and blew the smoke in a thin stream towards the light fixture. "First time?"

Richard smiled weakly and nodded. "Yeah..." he said, then cleared his throat. He looked at the cigarette between his fingers. He realized it made his hand look even more feminine and delicate.

"Why did you take it then?" she asked, her voice tinged with laughter.

"I dunno...I heard they help you deal with stress." he shrugged and took another drag, careful not to inhale. The menthol smoke tasted kind of like a mint this time. "and I sure need help in that department."

Emily laughed. "It does....just takes some getting used to."

The two of them talked for a long time. Both of them had a lot to say. Richard smoked several cigarettes, finally getting the hang of it with a little coaching from Emily. He was starting to see what people got out of smoking, the buzz was great and it did make him feel very good after it receded. It was after eight by the time Richard looked down at his watch.

"Holy shit. Its after eight." Richard said, looking up at her amazed. "I've gotta call my Uncle."

Emily laughed and handed Richard her cell phone. "Uncle Fred...I'm down at Fine Grind...Uh huh. With Emily Vandiveer. Yeah. Uh huh. Thanks. Ok. see you later." he handed the phone back to Emily. "He's cool with it...Glad I'm actually talking to someone.." he laughed out loud. "I don't have any friends any more...since the attack."

Emily shook her head. "That sucks....I can't believe no-one was there for you after that....Well...I'm here. Here's my number." She said, writing the number on a torn piece of paper in big loopy handwriting.. "There. We are going to have to hang out more, dude. I forgot how much we had in common." She stood up and gave him a hug. Richard had just finished packing up his computer. "Well...it's a long walk home...I gotta scoot." she said, putting on her scarf.

"No way...I'll give you a ride. Cmon." Richard said, buttoning his coat.

Richard dropped Emily off at home, a couple of miles from his house. His old house, not his Aunt and Uncle's place.

He drove home with his head crowded, for the first time in months, with thoughts of friendship. Camaraderie. He felt good.

 

The holidays were fast approaching. For Richard it was like a death march, moving inexorably towards the one year anniversary of his parent's murder, and his maiming. He focused in even more on school, striving for perfection in everything. Despite his size, Richard was still doing quite well in Martial Arts classes and put a lot of effort into finally his level 8 in Krav Maga. Other than his two winter extra curricular activity, Krav Maga and USPSA shooting, he spent the rest of the time with his nose in a book. He did talk to Emily a lot, but she was busy with school too so they were little comfort to one another.

School had been particularly hellish that day. Richard had started to feel very uncomfortable undressing in the boys locker room. No one said anything, but he could feel their eyes on him. His body, in the last year, had taken on the shape of a prepubescent girl. The absence of testosterone and the lack of hormone therapy had him in a sort of Limbo. He had only really just begun puberty when his manhood was stripped away. He had grown another inch and a half in the last year and was now 5'9" tall, just one inch taller than his mother. Other than that, he had completely stopped growing, and developing. His weight had shifted a little bit to his hips and butt, Combine that with the slight shift of fatty tissue and he was looking more and more like a teenage girl.

On the way home from school, Richard pulled into a convenience store to get gas. While he was filling up, he was completely zoning out, the intense anxiety he was feeling was driving him crazy. He walked inside, wrapping his black Pea coat around him tight against the cold. He was waiting in line when he noticed the Virginia Slims poster behind the register. That would do it, he thought, that might help. Hell, couldn't hurt, he thought. When he got to the counter, he almost chickened out. What if the guy laughed because a boy was buying girls cigarettes? What if he carded him? He didn't do either and a few minutes later, Richard was getting back in his car with a pack of Virginia Slims luxury light 120 menthols. He put the pack in his pocket and headed towards his old house.

Richard parked in the garage and walked into the kitchen. It was clean, quiet and empty. Just like it always was when he stopped by. The maids did a good job, and Uncle Fred stopped by a lot to make sure everything was in order. He hung up his coat, took off his blazer and tie and deposited them on a chair in the kitchen. The house was a little cool so he turned the heat up. He stood in the kitchen and looked at the pack of cigarettes. He walked through the house, deciding where he would go to indulge his new found vice. His dad's study? No. He'd never liked that room...Too authoritarian. The living room? No..His Mom's sunroom. He trotted up the steps and turned into the sunroom. The walls were glass, floor to ceiling. The room was furnished rather sparsely, with a couple of nice couches and some chairs. Low book shelves lined the walls, filled with his mother's novels and other books. There was an issue of Vogue from last October sitting on the coffee table right next to the big crystal ash tray.

Lighter.

Shit, he thought, I don't have a lighter. He walked into his parent's room and straight to his mom's jewelry box. He knew she kept several lighters in there. He opened the box and sure enough, there were several lighters on the second shelf. He picked up a long, thin silver lighter with a pink enameled casing he had seen his mother carry several times. It was very pretty. He popped the lighter and a flame instantly appeared. And it worked. He read the engraving on the bottom. Givenchy G3609. It didn't mean much to him, but it seemed like a very nice lighter. He closed the box and walked back to the sunroom. Richard kicked off his shoes and curled his legs underneath him. He stripped the cellophane from the cigarette box and balled it up on the table. He lifted the pack to his nose and smelled the strong, raisin smell of the fresh tobacco, a smell he'd always liked, then pulled a cigarette from the package. He looked at it for a moment. The long cigarette made his hand, already small and feminine, look even more graceful. He put the cigarette to his lips and lit it, carefully holding the flame to the tip as he sucked in the smoke. He quickly inhaled, opening his mouth and letting the smoke snap back inside. It hit him right away, the nicotine shooting into his bloodstream. He'd missed that feeling.

Richard sat there on the couch and smoked the whole cigarette, letting the buzzed feeling wash over him, practicing ways of holding it. The only real reference he had was his mother, who was always elegant, and Emily, who was very girly, so the mannerisms were definitely feminine. He also realized that it would be very hard to look masculine with a long, thin cigarette like that anyway. It would be hard for him to look masculine no matter what he did, he thought. He didn't let that thought bother him. Instead, he was going to enjoy the moment.

Richard smoked another cigarette, unwilling to let go of the moment. His mind was all over the place, filled with thoughts he'd long tried to suppress. Eventually, he got up and pulled his phone out of his bag. He dialed his uncle.

"Hello." Fred answered. There was a roar of wind in the background. He was on the beltway driving home.

"Hey Uncle Fred." Richard said.

"Hey Rich, what's up?" Fred said, rolling up the window. The road noise disappeared.

"I'm over at the old house...I'm going to stay here a while. It was a bad day and it helps me to think here." Richard said, feeling really nervous about the whole thing.

"Sure, buddy. I understand. I'll let your Aunt know." Fred said.

"Thanks, Uncle Fred." Richard said, a smile breaking across his face.

They said their good byes and Richard put the phone back in his bag. He stood up and looked around. He had the house all to himself and no reason to hurry home. He walked through the big empty house, taking it all in as the sun began to disappear behind the pine trees. Then he walked back up stairs. He felt like having a bath so he went into his parent's bathroom. The big jacuzzi tub was clean and inviting so he started running water. Richard stripped out of his clothes, throwing them in a pile next to the door. He turned and looked at himself in the full length mirror. His brown hair was long and unruly, hanging past his shoulders. His thin frame looked more like a young girl's body than a 16 year old boy. His penis was tiny, partially from the cold, but mainly from lack of time for puberty to really kick in before having it permanently cut short. He lifted his penis and examined the smooth place where his scrotum used to be. The skin had pulled back a lot during the last year and now it was very smooth. Richard poured some rose scented bath beads into the tub and climbed in. He laid there for a long time, letting the water jets sooth him. His gaze fell on his mother's razor, a little pink one with changeable blades. He picked it up and examined it for a moment. Richard had often wondered what his legs would look like completely shaved. He soaped them up and began shaving them, taking extra care not to cut himself. Finally done, he ran his hands down his smooth legs. They felt so nice and smooth afterwards he just sat there in the jacuzzi feeling them. Eventually, he got out and toweled himself off.

The idea had been forming in his mind for a long time but he'd never let it break the surface. Shaving his legs had opened him up to it. Like taking a plunge. He'd wondered what he'd look like as a woman. He did resemble his mother, even more so now that his testosterone level was so low. Richard had wondered about it before his "accident", but had never given in to the temptation. Today, he thought, must be the devil's day cause temptation is winning out left and right. He smiled at the thought and walked into his mother's walk in closet. Before, when his mother had been alive, it had seemed so wrong to try on her things. But now, they were his things. He could do whatever he wanted with them. He opened one of the lingerie drawers and picked through it. Eventually, he selected a pair of black Victoria's Secret bikini panty's and a matching black VS Angel padded bra. He slipped into the panties, finding that it was pretty easy to present a very girlish front since he didn't have testicles to get in the way. Then he fought his way into the bra, getting it clasped after several frustrating attempts. He turned and looked at himself in the three way mirror.

"Damn." he said out loud, his voice almost scaring him in the quiet house. He looked really good in this. He turned a little so he could see himself from all the angles. What he saw bothered him in a lot of ways, primarily because he felt something stirring inside him that he hadn't felt in a long time. He could feel his penis starting to harden a little bit at the sight. It also bothered him because it confirmed the notion that he'd look better as a female than a male now. Richard looked at himself for a few more seconds, then tore himself away and walked over to the sunroom where he retrieved his cigarettes and lighter. He sat down at his mother's vanity and lit a cigarette. He couldn't help but hold it even more femininely now, holding the cigarette at the very tip of his fingers and cocking his arm vertically at his shoulder. It just seemed the natural thing to do.

While he sat there, his eyes roved across the wide selection of make up neatly arranged on the vanity. His mother always bought new make up, so it didn't surprise him one bit that there was a regular cosmetics counter right there for the plundering. He picked through the bottles and jars, examining the contents. Without real thought, he opened a bottle of MAC foundation and started applying it to his face. After a little work he got it more or less right looking, then stood up and washed his hands. he couldn't help but laugh at the way he looked now, with his face all one color he thought he looked like Data from Star Trek. It was irritating him that his hair kept sticking to his face now, so he scooped a headband off a hook and put his hair up. What next? He thought about it then remembered something about powder to set the make-up. He wasn't sure what to do.

Then it occurred to him and he jumped up and ran in the other room. He grabbed his backpack and pulled out his laptop. He opened it and headed back into the bathroom. His neighbor's network was still unprotected so within minutes he was on the internet. Richard did a couple of quick searches and came up with a bunch of make-up tutorials. He worked carefully, following the instructions to the letter. He'd found instructions on you tube for very glamorous make-up, not the kind of stuff one would wear every day, but the kind of warpaint one would use if attending some sort of function It was really hard to get it right, but ever the perfectionist, Richard worked at it until he thought he'd done his best. Smoky eyes. Lined dark burgundy lips. flawless complexion. He'd been working so hard on getting it to look right that he hadn't really paid attention to how it looked as a whole. Finally, he pulled off the headband and shook out his hair. Staring back at him in the mirror was a beautiful young woman in her underwear with terribly unruly hair. Richard studied himself carefully, looking at his face from all angles. The woman in the mirror smiled at him. He realized he was grinning ear to ear. Richard scooped up a hair brush and carefully brushed out his hair until it looked the best he could muster.

He looked over at the clock and realized that he had to be home in less than an hour.

"Shit" he said, rushing into the bathroom. He felt really sad taking off the make-up he'd worked so hard on but it had to be done. Once he was convinced it was all off he looked in the mirror and sighed. He also realized he didn't look that different with the make up off. He dressed in his own clothes, except for the panties which just felt too good to take off.

Everyday, for the next two weeks, he went to the house right after school and practiced his make up. Richard spent as much of his weekend as he could there too, but spent most of the weekend writing a paper so he didn't have much of a chance to play. He never really got dressed up fully, mainly hanging around in a black silk robe while he played. It was comforting and absorbed him completely, helping him to deal with the dark thoughts that had been dominating his mind recently. Richard had gotten much better at putting his make up on now, and could do it right in about an hour. After getting his make up done, he would lounge around the house and read, or work on his home work. He'd also started smoking a lot more, everytime he was at the house. He knew it was wrong, and that it was bad for him, but he liked it and was feeling a little bit self destructive anyway so it really didn't matter.

The Friday before Thanksgiving, he let himself into the house and went immediately to his parent's room. He put on his make-up, taking extra time since he knew he didn't have to go home any time soon. He finished the make-up and felt it was his best try yet. He slipped into the black bra that matched the panties he was wearing. He'd been wearing panties every day for the last couple of weeks, a different pair of course, and he was pretty sure he'd have to do some laundry soon.

He lit a cigarette and stood up. Richard walked over to the three way mirror and admired his work. It was weird as he watched this very good looking girl pose and smoke, flirting with him in the mirror. Weird because she was him. It was turning him on immensely and the action he'd started to feel down south was now stronger than it had been all year. It still wasn't enough to make him pop out of his panties, but it was a very nice feeling that he'd missed a lot more than he realized. Richard felt the urge to go further today, to dress more than he had before. The lure of the closet was just too strong. He pulled a pair of black, opaque tights out of her drawer and worked his way into them. He'd watched his mom put them on a few times, and had seen women do it in movies so he managed to get them on without ruining them.

Richard walked over to the closet and started looking at the dresses. He selected a simple, little black dress, a Prada number. Very cute, very minimalist, one of the many Prada dresses in that closet. He slipped into it and fought the zipper up. It looked fantastic, the fit was almost perfect. It was a little tight in the chest, but nothing to worry about. He settled on a pair of Marc Jacobs wedge sandles. They were pretty tall, but he liked the look of the open toed shoe. Richard sat down and worked his foot into the sandle. It was a little tight, maybe a half size too small, but it fit.

Richard wobbled across the room, feeling like he was walking on stilts.He walked around for almost an hour, getting a little more confident with each step. Applying his same drive towards perfection to this pursuit as he did to everything else. He had practiced on slightly smaller heels before, wearing them around most days when he hung out at the house, but it was taking some getting used to walking on heels this high. While he practiced walking, he would stop and peruse the jewelry box. He selected several silver bracelets, a couple of rings and a very beautiful silver necklace He was smiling ear to ear as he strutted through the upstairs rooms. He faltered occasionally, but was getting the hang of walking in these heels. His feet killing him, Richard stopped and had a cigarette. He watched himself in the mirror, amazed at the transformation. It felt good to look pretty, he realized. It did a lot to numb the pain he'd been feeling earlier.

The only thing that bugged him was his hair. Even brushed out, it didn't go with the outfit very well, and he had absolutely no idea how to fix it. He decided not to let it bother him as he walked out of the bathroom, but he filed away the thought to research it and practice styling it later. Richard sat down on the divan and flipped through a magazine, smoking another cigarette. It was little over a year old Vogue UK edition. He realized that he had grown up around fashion so much with his mom that he knew more about it than he thought he would. He recognized the names of a lot of the designers, and recognized a lot of the clothes from his mom's wardrobe. Richard's stomach was growling mightily, reminding him that it was past supper time. He looked down at his wrist and realized that he didn't have a watch on. He hopped up and strutted over to the jewelry box. It wasn't until he got there that he realized he had strutted. It was that "predatory" walk women sometimes get in heels, a very catwalk sort of walk that his mother used whenever she was trying to get someone's attention. He laughed out loud at that as he selected a little silver Rolex that went with the other jewelry. He set it, using his computer clock and realized much to his dismay that it was after eight.

"No wonder I'm hungry." he said out loud. Richard's voice still startled him, didn't sound like it belonged to him any more. But for the first time in a year, the voice matched the body. Or at least appeared to. His voice, which was high and a little bit raspy, came across as sexy, throaty and a little deep for a woman, but definitely a woman's voice not the voice of a sixteen year old boy.

What to do about eating? he thought, gnawing on his lip. He could get undressed, go back to being Richard and run through a drive through some where. No...He didn't want to take off the clothes. He wanted this to last as long as possible. He walked over to the mirror and examined his make-up. It looked good. There were no glaring errors, nothing absolutely wrong with it (, though he felt it could be better. It was sure better than a lot of real women he'd seen out and about. Of course, they probably didn't spend an hour and a half working on it either. He was a little disappointed with his hair still, unsure whether it would pass muster. Then he remembered. Hats!

Richard rushed to the closet. After picking through the hat boxes, he selected a simple black, Armani Cloche style hat that looked like something Audrey Hepburne would wear. He pulled his hair up into a bun, following another tutorial on You Tube. It only took three tries to get it right, Then he fitted the hat to his head, adjusting the angle until it looked right. He smiled ear to ear. He realized right then that he didn't look like a underdeveloped 16 year old boy any more, but more like a 19 or 20 year old woman. Sophisticated. Stylish. His smile widened even more. It wasn't until then that he realized he would need a purse. He dug through the purses until he found a simple black prada bag and a wallet, along with a stunning pair of black leather gloves. He loaded some cash, his driver's license and his debit card into the wallet then put it in his purse. He also put the lipstick he'd used and a small compact, just in case he needed it. His cigarettes, lighter, and phone topped it off, filling his purse to the rim.

"Am I really going to do this?" he said out loud. He looked at himself in the mirror, he had to see if he was as convincing as he thought he was. . That smile crept back on to his face. He had to see if he was as convincing as he thought he was. A few minutes later he selected a coat from the downstairs closet. The coat was simple, wool with a flared bell shape and a big rolled collar. The label was Sophia, but he had never heard of it. He put it on and posed in front of the mirror. He liked the look, posing with his hands on his hips. He put on the long black, leather gloves he'd selected and realized that they reached almost to his elbow. With the coat and hat, it just completed the outfit.

"Oh shit." he said, stomping his foot. He realized he needed his glasses to drive, and to see more than about five feet away for that matter. He rushed back up the stairs and picked them up off the vanity. he put them on and was completely let down by how utterly horrible they looked with this outfit. They were sort of chunky torouise from glasses. Very male and dorky, not the thing for a chic little black dress. He crossed his fingers and went to his mother's dresser. He opened her second drawer and their, arrayed on a velvet holder were her glasses. Praying that his prescription was close enough to hers, he took off his glasses and put on hers. For a moment, he was afraid to open his eyes. He did. And he could see! It wasn't perfect, but it was pretty good. Maybe one prescription stronger. His eyes adjusted to it quickly and he could see just fine. He put on several pairs, trying to find the ones that best matched the outfit. He settled on a pair of black framed Channel eyeglasses with a slight cat's eye shape to them. They made him look....smart as well as stylish. He couldn't help but laugh at that.

He put a dab of perfume, Channel #5 behind his ears and on his wrists then made his way down stairs again. He stopped in front of the mirror one last time then was out the door. He got in his car and hit the garage door button. His heart was racing one hundred miles per hour as he backed out of the drive way. I'm actually doing it, he thought, I"m going out like this. Once he got on the road, his nerves didn't calm down. He lit a cigarette and it actually calmed his nerves a little. He wasn't sure where he was going to go. Dressed like this, he couldn't just go to some fast food place, and family eateries were definately out. He'd stand out like a sore thumb at Denny's. The thought made him giggle.

He decided to stop somewhere he went on a regular basis to see if anyone would recognize him. It was a gamble, but figured if he was going to be recognized as a boy in a dress he'd rather have it happen at Border's books than at a fancy restaurant. He parked his car and got out. It was a brisk November night. The wind was blowing dead leaves around the parking lot as he walked towards the store. Richard's heart was pounding a thousand miles per hour as he neared the door. He took one last drag from his cigarette, then put it out in the ash tray near the door. A man in his mid twenties opened the door for him and smiled broadly at him.

"After you." the man said politely.

"Thank you." Richard said quietly, stepping inside. He walked quickly towards the magazines, sure that someone was going to yell "BOY IN A DRESS" any second. But it didn't happen. He did notice that a lot of eyes were following him as he went through the store. Men and women. The men he understood, they were checking out the goods, but he wasn't sure whey some of the women were staring at him. Maybe he had something completely wrong and didn't realize it. He hung his bag on his left arm and started looking through the magazines. A young woman, probably just out of college he guessed, was looking through magazines too. He looked up at her and smiled when their eyes met. She smiled back at him, then her eyes flipped down to his bag.

"I love that purse." she said. "Prada?"

Richard nodded. "Yeah. Thank you." He said timidly. "It's last years...but I like it." He wasn't sure why he'd added that, except that his mom had said similar things at times.

"I wish I could afford a year old Prada bag." The girl said, chuckling. "Nice talking to you." the girl said, holding up her magazine. She headed towards the counter. Richard followed close behind, his heart still pounding.

He put his magazine on the counter. The clerk's name was Thomas. He waited on Richard all the time but he looked at him like he'd never laid eyes on him before. Richard looked down at the magazine. He'd picked up the German copy of Vogue, practice reading german and get an idea about this season's fashions at the same time, what a bargain. He smiled at the thought.

"Good evening, miss." Thomas said. "Do you have a discount card?"

Richard was stunned for a moment Everything was different about him except his voice. Yes, it sounded like a girls voice, but Thomas might recognize it. Richard stared at him dumbly...unsure of what to do.

Thomas smiled at her and held up a card. "Discount card," he said slowly, carefully enunciating the words. Richard realized that Thomas, seeing a pretty girl in designer clothes, buying German Vogue had concluded that she was German. Richard smiled and laughed a little.

"No...No card, thank you." Richard said, using a German accent. He was pretty good at imitating one after spending several months going back and forth to Germany with his parents, not to mention attending Miss Grueber's class every day at school.

Richard walked out of the store with his confidence boosted. He could feel all the guys who worked their looking at him as he strode outside. A few minutes later he was back in his car and still had no idea where he was going to go. Then he remembered a nice place he and his parents had gone to several times. La Bergerie. It was a nice French restaurant on North Lee street. Very nice, and if he remembered right, under new management. He pulled up in the parking lot and sat there collecting his wits before getting out of the car. His stomach rumbled one more time and that settled it. Some food was exactly what he needed.

He got out and walked inside. He took off his glasses and put them in his purse as he walked inside, and was met at the door by the maitre de. He looked Richard up and down and smiled.

"Bonsoir, Mlle." the older gentleman said, tipping his head towards her.

"Bonsoir, Monsieur." Richard said, ensuring his pronunciation. He'd taken French all through grade school and remembered it fairly well. Though he wasn't as conversational as he was in German, he was decent and could still get by ok.

"Avez-vous des réservations ?" he said, then started to translate. "Do you..."

"No... Je suis désolé, puis-je recevoir une table ? s'il vous plaát ?" Richard said quickly, enjoying a chance to use his French on someone. The maitre de grinned from ear to ear.

"La table pour un, la Mlle ?" he asked, sounding a little like he couldn't believe it to be true.

Table for one.

Richard grinned. "Oui. Table pour un. Tabagisme s'il vous plaá®t."

The Maitre de picked up a menu. "Cette voie, Mlle."

The Maitre De led Richard through the restaurant. People looked up as he passed. He recognized the look on many of the men's faces, he was pretty sure he'd had that look himself a few times. The look on the women's faces surprised him though, some looked admiring...others looked angry. IT didn't make sense.

"Ici vous átes, Mlle. Le mieux la place dans la maison." the maitre de said, pulling out a chair. It was a good seat. A small table for two near the windows, but not close enough to be cold.

"Oh, votre manteau, la Mlle ?" he helped her out of her coat. "Je le vérifierai pour vous."

"Merci." Richard said, taking off his gloves. He was very aware of people watching him now, and it made him sort of uncomfortable.

The maitre de waited until he was seated, then handed him a menu. He rattled off the specials then added.

"Si vous avez besoin de n'importe quoi du tout, Mlle. Sentez-vous s'il vous plaát libres de me recevoir. Je suis Jean.

Ce n'est pas chaque jour nous recevons le client qui parlent vraiment le français. Vous n'átes pas le français bien que...." (If you need anything at all, Miss. Please feel free to get me. I am Jean. It isn't every day we get customer's who actually speak french. You are not French though....)

Richard laughed. He wasn't intending on continuing the German Charade, but it just came out.

"No...I'm German, Sir." Richard said, laying on the accent for him.

Jean laughed out loud. "Well...neighbors nonetheless. Your waiter will be here in a moment." he bowed to her a little and smiled, then headed towards the coat check with Richard's coat.

Richard took off his gloves while he looked over the menu. He was glad he'd gotten some money out of the ATM earlier, since he would feel very odd about using his debit card. He decided what he wanted very quickly then laid down his menu. He looked around the restaurant. Most of the crowd was far older than him, though some were close to his apparent age. He lit a cigarette and wished suddenly that he'd remembered to paint his fingernails. Well, he thought, at least they are clean and rather ok shaped.

"Good evening. My name is William. What can I get you to drink, miss?" He said, smiling at him.

Richard laughed. "I'd like a glass of water." he said, then added using his German accent with a little bit of a May West growl to it. "What I'd really like is a glass of Cháteau Montrose 1998, but in this country...it's a no no."

William smiled, then looked around. "One glass of ice water and a glass of Chateau Montrose 1998, coming up." he said with a wink and a nod.

Richard sat back in his chair and grinned, then he picked up his magazine and started reading. It felt so strange, sitting in a very nice restaurant, wearing his mother's clothes, smoking a cigarette and reading a copy of German Vogue. It was surreal in a way and Richard could hardly believe it.

"One glass of Chateau Montrose and one glass of ice water." William said, putting the glass in front of him.

He looked up at him and took off his glasses, placing them on the table. "Thank you, William." Richard purred. Richard sat up straight in his chair, his elbow near his hip, his hand holding his cigarette cocked near his shoulder. A pose his mother sat in whenever she smoked. William was looking at her, definite desire in his eyes.

"What can I get you to eat, Miss?" William said, his gaze meeting Richards. Their eyes locked for a moment, then William looked down at his pad.

Richard smiled, then picked up his menu and his glasses. He put them on and quickly found what he was looking for. "I'd like the Le Faux Filet de Chevreuil, sa Sauce aux Chocolat et Café  avec un Nem au Choux Vert, please." Richard said, then took off his glasses and handed the menu to William.

"Good choice." William said, jotting it down. "It will be ready in a few minutes." He turned and walked off.

Richard couldn't wipe the dumb smile off his face, so he took one last drag from his cigarette and put it out. He took a sip of the wine and it was very fine. Better than the table wine he was used to getting when his parents gave it to him. While they'd been in Europe he'd had wine with most meals, like everyone else. Since returning to the states, he'd been very lacking in the wine department. He had time to smoke one more cigarette and read an entire article on shoes before his meal arrived. He smiled up at William, again taking off his glasses and putting them in his magazine.

"Here you are miss...Le Faux Filet de Chevreuil, sa Sauce aux Chocolat et Café  avec un Nem au Choux Vert. That is a mouthful." he laughed.

Richard laughed too, a good laugh. "Yes...that is a lot to say for Venison with Chocolate coffee sauce." She said smiling at him. "Thank you."

He started to walk away, then turned back to her. "I hope it's not too forward of me to say...but I noticed that you always take off your glasses whenever anyone comes around. They look very good on you, miss...." He said, fishing for a name.

Richard didn't know what to say. But he had to say something, so the first German name he liked just popped out. "Ingrid."

"Ingrid." William said, relishing the word. "Well, they look very fetching on you, Miss Ingrid."

Ingrid, Richard thought. That's who I am right now. I'm Ingrid Wolfe.

Ingrid smiled broadly, placing her napkin in her lap. She put her glasses back on and read another article while she ate, savoring every minute of this vacation away from her real life. She finished eating and lit a cigarette. the food was mostly gone and the wine had long since disappeared. She didn't want to order another glass because she knew William could get in big trouble for serving her. She ordered a cup of coffee and enjoyed her coffee and cigarettes while she put off the inevitable. The going home to her regular life. No, to Richard's life.

Ingrid thought it was pretty funny. She'd walked in here as Richard Wolfe wearing his mother's clothes and somewhere between then and now had become Ingrid Wolfe, very comfortable in her own clothes. That was when it really sank in that he'd been more comfortable for the last two hours than he had been in a whole year. The little smile that thought brought wouldn't fade. Until, that is, she looked up and saw Bradley Worthington staring at her.

Ingrid did her best to stifle the horror that rose up inside her. Bradley Worthington was having dinner with his parents only two tables away. Bradley went to school with Richard and was sure to see right through the disguise. She took a long drag on her cigarette, then looked quickly back down at her magazine, hoping he or she would just disappear. She counted to twenty then looked up. He was still looking at her. Their eyes met for a moment and he smiled at her.

She looked back down at her magazine then sucked nervously on her cigarette. He got up and was walking over to the table. Bradley was a big guy, around 6'2". He played Lacrosse and Soccer and was one of the most popular guys in school. He never spoke to Richard, not since the incident in 9th grade. Was he actually going to confront him here, in this restaurant. Richard stirred back towards the surface trying hard to push Ingrid aside.

"Excuse me...Miss?" He said, stopping at her table. "I couldn't help but...I'm sorry. But, do we know one another?" Bradley said, trying to be on his best behavior.

Ingrid spoke up before Richard could even get his head around the situation. "No. Should we?" she said.

"I thought maybe we did...but I guess I was wrong. I'd like to get to know you though." He said, putting on the smile that drew the high school girls like flies.

"I'm sorry....I know an awful lot of people. Until one of them dies, I couldn't possibly fit in another one." Ingrid said, stressing her German accent. She topped it with a sweet smile.

Bradley laughed. "Charade. I love that movie." he said, grinning at her.

"You know that movie? I"m surprised." Ingrid said, allowing a genuine smile.

"Why?" he said, sitting down. "I like old movies." He held out his hand. "Bradley Worthington."

Ingrid held her hand out limply for him. He took it and squeezed it gently. "Ingrid Wolfe." she said with a slight smile. She took a drag from her cigarette and looked towards his parents. "Don't you think Mutter and Vater will worry.."

He looked over at his parents and actually blushed. "Yeah...it's their anniversary. Well...It was very nice meeting you Ingrid. Are you living here now? In Arlington, I mean?"

Ingrid looked at him for a moment. "Yes."

He smiled broadly. "Well...I hope to see you around then."

He got up and returned to his seat. Ingrid put out her cigarette and called for the check. She paid and asked for her coat. Jean brought the coat to her.

"How was the dinner miss?" He asked, helping her into her coat.

"Very good, Jean. Thank you very much." She buttoned her coat and started pulling on her gloves.

"I hope to see you again soon, Mlle." Jean said.

Ingrid smiled at him. "I'll come back, I promise."

"Auf Wiedersehen," Jean said smiling.

"Auf Wiedersehen." Ingrid said, then slipped out the door. She was floating on air as she walked to her car. She got in and lit a cigarette, then pulled out onto the street. She realized she was happy. For the first time in so long she couldn't remember, she was actually happy. The closer she got to home, the less happy she was. She realized that soon this would all end and she would be Richard again. She pulled into the garage and closed the door. It was a little after eleven now. Ingrid sighed and walked inside the house. She dropped her keys on the counter and turned on the lights.

Ingrid took off her coat and gloves, putting the gloves in her coat pocket and hanging the coat in the closet. She leaned against the kitchen counter for a minute, collecting her thoughts then took off her hat. She shook her hair down and set the barrett and the hat on the counter. She opened her purse and took out her cell phone.

"Uncle Fred." she said

"Hey Rich...You on your way home?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Is it ok if I stay here tonight. I'm really tired. I'll be home in the morning." Ingrid said, crossing her fingers.

"I guess so, Rich. Turn on the alarm and ...You are alone right?" He asked.

"Yeah...I'm alone." Ingrid said.

"Ok. We'll see you in the morning." Fred said.

Ingrid jumped for joy. It was like a reprieve from death row. She didn't have to go back to being drab old Richard yet. She opened the refrigerator, then remembered there would be nothing in it. She got an idea then walked through the utility room and down the steps to the wine cellar. Still there. Ingrid smiled. She looked through the bottles and selected one of the ones near the door. These were the ones that her parents kept around for regular drinking, not fancy bottles for special occasions. She pulled a bottle of red and walked back up the stairs.

Ingrid draped herself over the chase lounge in her mother's sunroom. She took a sip from her wine and closed her eyes. She felt good. For the first time in the last year, she actually felt good. Ingrid couldn't help but smile. She'd gone out to a restaurant and no one there had believed she was anything other than what she seemed, a young lady. Ingrid stood up and walked over to the window, looking out at the back yard. She could see her reflection in the glass. So like mother, she thought. The thought brought back some of the sadness, but she shook it off and sat back on the chase.

She took a cigarette out of the pack and put it between her glossy burgundy lips. She flicked the gvinchy lighter and put it to the tip, drawing hard on the cigarette. She inhaled, taking the smoke in deeply. She held it for a few moments, letting the nicotine go to her head, then exhaled. Her lips formed a tight bow, directing the smoke in a neat stream. She lounged back and smoked several cigarettes while she drank three glasses of wine. Finally, very tired, and a little drunk, she got up and walked into the bedroom.

Ingrid took off the clothes and laid them neatly on a chair. She stood and looked at herself in the mirrors for a minute, relishing in her appearance in the bra, panties, stockings, and heels. Sighing, she sat down on the bed and took off her shoes and stockings, dropping them on the floor. Her feet were killing her, so she sat and rubbed them for a minute, like she'd seen her mother do so many times.

She ran her hands through her hair, then stood up and walked over to the dresser. Her mother's brush wasn't on the dresser so she started going through the drawers. She found the brush and started brushing her hair. Finished, she laid the brush on the dresser. She started looking through the drawers, feeling guilty at first, but rationalizing that it was all her stuff now anyway.

She examined the panties and bras in the top drawer. These were her mother's regular underthings, not the nice stuff she kept in the closet. The next drawer was full of tee shirts and other casual tops like the ones she'd worn shopping and to hang around the house. Ingrid was looking through the tee shirt drawer, when she reached back inside and touched a box. She moved the shirts and pulled the box out. It was a shoe box that took up most of the drawer, his mother didn't have that many tee shirts apparently, since most of the drawer was taken up by something else. She sat down on the bed and opened the mysterious box.

Ingrid's mouth opened with surprise. Inside the box were her mother's "toys". There was a very large, realistic looking dildo, complete with balls and a suction cup on the bottom. There was also a small glass dildo, very pretty and expensive looking. There were a couple of other things she didn't recognize, like a little silver egg with a cord and a controller. She picked up the control and pushed the button and the little egg started humming.

Ingrid couldn't help but laugh. "Mom, I had no idea you were so dirty." she shook her head and pulled out the glass dildo. It was very intriguing. There was a tube of lube in the box as well, so Ingrid grabbed it and put down the box. She realized that her penis was hard looking at the toys. It wasn't a rock hard erection, she couldn't get one of those as far as she knew, gut it was the most aroused she'd been in a very long time. She put the items back in the box, then picked them up again, fighting with herself about what she wanted to do. She put the dildo and lube on the bed, then walked over and picked up her cigarettes. She nervously smoked a cigarette, getting up the courage to try out the toys. Eventually, the lure of the pretty glass dildo won out and she put out the cigarette and picked it up.

Ingrid took it into the bathroom and washed it well, the hurried back to the bed. She pulled back the sheets and hopped in, shimmying out of her panties. She put a dab of the cold lube on her finger, turned on her side and touched the finger to her sphincter. She took a deep breath and pushed the finger against it, then slowly, she worked a finger inside. It felt fantastic, but she needed to add more lube. After a little more lube, her finger was sliding in and out of her sphincter cleanly, smoothly. After a couple of minutes, she added more lube to her fingers and started working a second inside. It hurt a little bit at first and she had to stop. Then slowly, she was able to work the finger inside her. Two fingers felt immense. Ingrid couldn't imagine how big the big dildo must feel, but she really wanted to find out. Her ass was still very tight, fighting to close back on her fingers. She pulled her fingers out, got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Her sphincter was stinging a little, but she couldn't wait to get back to work. Ingrid grabbed a towel and jumped back in the bed. Very quickly, she slipped in one finger, then another, pushing them in as far as she could. Her ass spasmed and shot pain through her body, but she lift it there.

Ingrid rolled over and took a cigarette out of her pack, using only her left hand, since the right was busy. She held the cigarette between her teeth, then lit it. As soon as she inhaled, she started working her fingers in and out slowly. She moaned as she exhaled, then quickly took another drag. She started working her fingers in and out faster, now only enjoying the feeling. When she was half finished with the cigarette, she pulled out her fingers. Her ass spasmed with pleasure, like a fish gulping for air. Using her sticky right hand, she picked up the dildo and laid it next to her. She squeezed a good amount of lube onto her hand and rubbed it on her anus.

She took a deep drag, then put out the cigarette. Ingrid held her breath, keeping the smoke in her lungs while she put the tip of the glass dildo against her ass. She pushed slight and felt the tip penetrate her. She cried out, emptying her lungs. It hurt badly, so she pulled it out. Taking another deep breath, she pushed it in again. This time, it went in easier. It felt huge, even though it wasn't that much bigger than her two fingers. She worked in in and out slowly, feeling the glass dildo slide through her sphincters. IN a few minutes, she was getting it deep inside her and her breath was coming ragged and shallow. Panting, she stopped and lit another cigarette. She laid on her back and took a deep drag. Her hand wandered back to the dildo and started slowly pushing it deep inside. It was like an electric shock when the tip touched her prostate. She moaned, then took another drag from her cigarette. Gritting her teeth, she pushed again, pulled out, then thrust it back inside her. She gasped as the tip hit the prostate hard. Soon, she was fucking herself with the dildo, quickly sliding it in and out. Her penis was hard now, harder than it had been since the attack. Then it happened. She was pumping her ass hard now and the tip contacted with her prostate one last time. The orgasm felt like it started at her toes. Her cock convulsed and a thin, white stream of ejaculate shot out of the tip, landing on her thigh. She couldn't help but yell, then moan and lay there unmoving.

She laid there for a long time. Eventually, she lit a cigarette and laid there smoking for a while, still luxuriating in the feeling of the dildo inside her. She was completely relaxed now and gasped as the dildo slipped out of her. The wine was starting to really affect her now and she was very tired. So, she put out the cigarette, wiped up with the towel and headed into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and washed her face, doing a half-assed job of getting off her make up. Sleep came quickly, filled with sexual dreams starring Ingrid and Bradley Worthington.

Ingrid woke up the next morning to sunlight shining in her face. She blinked a couple of times, then rolled over and tucked her head under the pillow. "Uggghhhh" she said loudly. Within a few minutes, she'd fallen back to sleep. Eventually, around ten, Ingrid crawled out of the bed. She was still wearing her bra, but no panties. She sat down on the toilet and relieved herself then got up and looked in the mirror. Her face and hair were both a wreck. "Yech." she said, then brushed her hands through her hair.

Ingrid smiled. She realized that she wasn't thinking of herself as Richard, but as Ingrid. This made her smile. She washed her face then went through the drawers to find something to wear. She settled on a little black tee shirt that said BEBE across the chest and a pair of low rise jeans from the closet. Ingrid stopped to admire the outfit in the mirror for a second, then bopped down the stairs to get something to eat.

"Shit." she said, looking at the empty fridge. There was absolutely nothing to eat. She walked back upstairs and plopped down in front of the vanity. Though she was feeling like Ingrid, she realized she was looking a bit too much like Richard, and he wasn't ready to go back to being him just yet. She realized she didn't know how to put on make-up that didn't look too formal for going out to get some breakfast. So, back to You Tube for some help. There wasn't a lot on there covering simple make-up, but she did find something simple enough. She put on a little foundation, some pink lipstick, a bit of eye liner and mascara and she though she looked pretty good. Then, of course there was her hair. She lit a cigarette and started looking for something on the internet that could help out.

Ingrid's hair was about shoulder length, mousy red brown, and pretty much formless. She brushed it out, but it still just didn't look good. It was long, but Richard hadn't taken very good care of it. After fiddling around with it for about twenty minutes, she settled on putting it up in a bun, much like she'd done last night. She didn't pull it very tight, because she thought it made her look a little too much like a librarian with the little Channel glasses and all, but it was a very passable up-do and it hid the worst of the problems.

She stood up and walked over to the closet to look for some shoes. She didn't want to wear anything too nice, but knew that it was in style to wear heels with jeans. She picked out a pair of black Prada slingbacks, mainly because they had a closed toe and her toe nails weren't painted. She grabbed her bag, her cigarettes and the German Vogue she bought last night and headed down stairs. She put on black wool Pea coat, her laptop bag and was out the door. She backed out of the driveway and headed out of the neighborhood. Ingrid's stomach was growling now something fierce but she still didn't know where she wanted to eat. She eventually settled on a little diner she'd stopped in before as Richard, but didn't frequent.

The diner wasn't crowded, only a couple of older people finishing up breakfast, and a college guy sitting in the corner reading.

"Hey honey...Sit wherever you like." The waitress said, looking over her shoulder. Ingrid smiled at her, then found a booth. She got herself arranged then lit a cigarette. She was looking out the window when the waitress put a glass of water on the table. "Let me get you an ashtray." the waitress said, then walked over and grabbed one off the counter. "Coffee?"

Ingrid smiled at her. "Yes. Thank you." She laid on the German accent pretty strong. "With cream please."
The waitress smiled at her. "Be right back."

Ingrid nodded and smiled, then started flipping through her magazine. It felt weird, but oddly natural, sitting there wearing girls clothes and make-up, about to have breakfast. Her coffee arrived and she sat there fo a little while drinking her coffee when the door opened. She looked up and her heart dropped into her stomach. Emily walked in. Emily was looking around, like she was looking for someone. She looked right past Ingrid, then frowned. Emily looked over her shoulder out into the parking lot, right at Ingrid's...Richard's, car. She looked back at Ingrid, then recognition slowly started dawning on her.

"Hey honey...Sit wherever you like." The waitress called out, but Emily didn't seem to hear her. She walked over to Ingrid, who was now blushing and felt very much like she was about to cry...or run, she wasn't sure which.

"Hi." Emily said, her voice a little unsure. "This seat taken?" she said, gesturing to the empty bench across from Ingrid.

Ingrid fumbled with her cigarette pack, then gestured for Emily to sit. She looked up and their eyes met. Then, Emily surprised her by smiling broadly. "Richard???" She whispered, still smiling.

"Yeah." Ingrid whispered. "I'm...I don't know what to say.."

Emily rolled her eyes. "...I just want to know what's going on...Spill!" She was still whispering, leaning in conspiratorially.

Ingrid lit a cigarette just before the waitress stopped by to fill her coffee cup and drop off one for Emily.

"Hey Emily," the waitress said, grinning at her. "You're in here early for a Saturday. I didn't know you girls were friends..."

Ingrid looked at Emily, shocked that she knew the waitress, then back her. "I'm Ingrid. Nice to meet you." Ingrid said, holding out her hand. The waitress took it and shook. "Veronica." She said, smiling. "You're German? Exchange student?"

"Yes. I'm exchange student." She said, smiling at her, though inside she felt like she was about to pop.

Veronica headed back behind the counter.

"Ingrid?" Emily whispered. "German?" Emily laughed, then lit a cigarette of her own. "You're totally leading a double life."

Ingrid just smiled at her, then told her the whole story. Emily stopped her occasionally to ask questions, but mainly let her talk. The story took about an hour to tell and when she was finished, Ingrid felt totally drained.

"Wow." Emily said, shaking her head. "Well...You look awesome, and seem completely natural...it's crazy. I would have never figured it out if I wouldn't have seen your car in the parking lot."

Ingrid laughed. " I know...I didn't think about that one." she said, still laughing.

"And..." Emily said, switching to a whisper. "The accent is great, sounds perfect."

Ingrid had completely forgotten she was talking with the accent, but she still was, even talking in the low tones to keep Veronica from hearing the whole story. Ingrid just started laughing again. "I forgot I was using it." she said, which made Emily laugh even harder.

The two of them sat there for a while longer, drinking coffee and eating breakfast. "What are you doing after this?" Ingrid said.

"Nothing. No plans." Emily said, shrugging.

"Want to come back to my house and hang out?" Ingrid said, putting out her cigarette.

"Sure." Emily said, grinning.

They paid and headed outside. Emily was wearing a pair of jeans, a black sweater and a pair of furry topped boots with a leather biker jacket and a long scarf. Ingrid really liked the look and thought she might pick up a pair of those boots. She probably couldn't borrow them from Emily, she thought, because Emily was about three inches shorter than her and had smaller feet. They piled into the car and drove back to Ingrid's house. She parked the car in the garage and the two of them went inside.

"Wow." Emily said, looking around. "I haven't been here since I was a kid...I came to your tenth birthday party here."

Ingrid laughed. 'Yeah...I remember that...we had a pool party." She held up a finger, then trotted down the steps and grabbed a bottle of wine. Ingrid reappeared a couple of seconds later holding up a bottle of red.

Emily grinned at her. "Sounds like a plan."

Ingrid poured them both a glass of wine, then pulled an ashtray out of the cupboard. THe two of them perched on stools at the butcher block table in the center of the kitchen. After a couple of drinks, Emily looked at Ingrid and smiled. "It's funny." she said. "I can't see Richard at all...Just Ingrid."

Ingrid blushed. "Thanks." She took a sip of her wine and smiled at Emily.

Emily got a very serious look on her face, then propped her face up on her hands. "So...What are you going to do?"

Ingrid just shrugged. "I really don't know. I'm not ready to let the world know...Especially because of school...and I don't want to cause trouble for my Aunt and Uncle...So, I'm going to just coast for the next year I guess....I'm stuck being Richard, even though I think Ingrid...or a facsimile of Ingrid is more the real me." She took a last drag from her cigarette then put it out.

"Yeah, that's probably a good way to handle it...You would get SOOOO much shit at school. Maybe even kicked out." She said gravely. "It's an all boys school."

Ingrid laughed. "Funny, huh? I'm really only half a boy now anyway." There was little humor in her voice though.

"That's not true...." Emily said, not sounding like she was totally convinced of that either, with what her eyes were showing her.

"No, it is...And I'm cool with it now." Ingrid said. "I've got, like no testosterone to speak of...I'm like a prepubescent girl...And will be until I do something about it." She shrugged. "But it's ok...If it wasn't for that, I'd never be able to pull this off." she said, gesturing to herself. "And that, I do like."

And that was true. For the first time ever, she liked the way she looked. Her body image was positive. Yes, she thought it would be nice to be able to develop, but that would come. She could easily get a prescription for the hormones and since she already had an orchiectomy she was already one step closer than most M to F transsexuals. She laughed out loud.

"What?" Emily said over the rim of her wine glass.

"I'm a transsexual." Ingrid said, grinning. "That just actually occurred to me."

Emily thought about it. "Yeah...I guess you are." They both laughed.

Once the fit of laughter subsided, Emily got a wicked look on her face. "Hey.... I have to see the clothes you've got. I know there is some great stuff up there."

Ingrid grinned back at her. "Oh, yeah...Come on." she scooped up her wine glass and her cigarettes and Emily followed her up the stairs.

They went into Ingrid's bedroom. She realized that's what she thought of her parent's room as now, since she'd been spending so much time there. Her carelessness dawned on her as soon as she stepped in the room, but there was no going back now. She just blushed bright red.

Emily saw the glass dildo sitting on the bedside table next to a tube of lube. She looked over at Ingrid and gave her a mock scolding. "Someone's been naughty." she said, then busted out laughing.

Ingrid blushed down to her toes. "I'm sorry...I thought I put that stuff up." she started over to pick it up, but Emily got there first. Emily held it up.

"This is nice." She said, admiring the pretty glass tool. It was 7 inches long and about 11/4 inch in diameter, rose tinted glass. It was penis shaped, but had pretty hearts worked into the side of it. The box that it came in called it a heartbreaker. "Very nice." she admired the length and girth. "Feel good?"

Ingrid blushed again, then leaned against the vanity and lit a cigarette. After stalling for a few more seconds she finally just nodded. Emily burst out laughing. Ingrid noticed then that Emily was looking at her with a predatory gleam. "What?" Ingrid said, feeling really self conscious and embarrassed.

Emily set the dildo down on the bed and walked over to Ingrid. She took Ingrid in her arms and before she knew what was happening, Emily was kissing her. Ingrid had never kissed a girl before. She'd kissed one boy, and since she was Richard at the time, that had caused quite a bit of trouble. Kissing Emily was soft, sweet, and gentle. They kissed for about a minute, holding each other tight. Finally, they parted and looked into one another's eyes for a few moments.

"You're beautiful, Ingrid." Emily said, reaching up and taking off her glasses and setting them on the vanity. Ingrid started to look away, embarrassed, but Emily just kissed her again. Ingrid had dreamed about kissing girls before, albeit not as often as she had dreamed of kissing boys, and this was even better than she had imagined. Desire was starting to stir her, just a little bit and she could feel the arousal. It would take a lot more than that to get her hard, but it was causing a reaction. Ingrid broke the kiss just long enough to put her cigarette out in the crystal ashtray on the vanity.

Neither of them said anything after that, they just both started pulling the clothes off the other. Soon they were both naked from the waist up, wearing only their bras, which Emily shed quickly, but she left Ingrid's on. They fell back onto the bed, still entwined, kissing one another deeply, their hands roaming. After a few minutes of that, Emily sat up and started taking off her boots. Ingrid propped her head up on her hand and looked at Emily as she doffed her boots. "Are you sure about this?" Ingrid asked, trepidation making her voice weak.

Emily just looked back at her, stood up and slithered out of her jeans and panties. She reached down and helped Ingrid out of her pants, then pulled her panties aside. Her penis was small and she had the slightest start of an erection. Emily's eyes met hers. "Can you get hard?"

Ingrid nodded. "Sort of...But it takes work." She said, feeling ashamed.

Emily smiled and took the little cock in her mouth. It felt phenomenal. She was sucking hard on it, taking it all the way in her mouth easily. Ingrid didn't know what to do, so she just laid back and enjoyed it. After a couple of minutes, it was starting to get hard, though Emily was still able to take the whole thing in her mouth and put her lips against Ingrid's pubic mound. Ingrid moaned with pleasure then said, "Can I do something for you?"

Emily climbed up on the bed and straddled Ingrid's chest. "You can try to eat me out..." she said, stroking Ingrid's cock with her right hand. "Just separate the lips a little. See the clit? Just lick it. You've seen the movies, right?" She said, then took Ingrid's cock back in her mouth and started sucking with renewed vigor as Ingrid started tentatively licking her clit.

Ingrid didn't know what to think of this. It was neat, but she wasn't sure about the taste. She pushed on though, striving to give Emily pleasure despite her feelings about it. Emily was going to town on her cock now, and it was the closest to truly hard it had been in a long time. Then, while Ingrid was just lost in the sensation, and trying to get the hang of eating her out, Emily stopped sucking. She kept stroking, then looked back over her shoulders. "Yeah..That's good." she said, then reached over and grabbed the tube of lube from the nightstand. She squeezed some onto her fingers then took Ingrid's cock back in her mouth and started sucking. She rubbed the cool lube on Ingrid's sphincter, which made her jump a little. It felt good, the slickness and the feeling of her fingers. Then, Emily slipped one finger inside her just as she took her whole cock into her mouth. Ingrid moaned loudly and redoubled her efforts on Emily's clit. Emily's finger was slipping in and out of her slowly, then she began going a little faster.

Ingrid was enjoying that immensely as Emily slipped a second finger inside her. She bucked a little withe surprise, then settled into it. She came up for air and looked at the ceiling for a second. When she looked back she could see Emily's tight little balloon knot of a sphincter. She smiled, then began licking it. IT was very bitter, but not altogether unpleasant. She began licking it a little faster, then started trying to slide her tongue inside it. Emily looked back at her, two fingers still deep inside her. "No one's ever done that before...It feels good...keep doing it...I'll tell you if I don't like it, ok?" Emily said, panting a little from all the pleasure and effort. Ingrid nodded, then thrust her tongue all the way inside Emily's now wet sphincter. This drew a huge moan of pleasure from Emily, who then took her fingers out of Ingrid's lovely little backside. She leaned over further and put the tip of her tongue to Ingrid's sphincter. The lube had a vague strawberry taste, so she began licking it harder.

Ingrid was really getting into this now, deeply tongue kissing Emily's sphincter. She reached over and grabbed the lube and put a little bit on her finger, then massaged it around Emily's hole before slipping in a finger. Emily's back arched. "Holy shit....What did you put in there?" she said, looking back. "Only one finger?" Emily asked, incredulously

"Sorry...I got carried away." Ingrid said apologetically. Emily shook her head. "no...If I can do it to you, I guess turnabout is fair play."

Ingrid laughed, then kissed Emily's sphincter, thrusting her tongue in deep before putting her finger back inside. Emily squirmed against it, then took Ingrid's now softening cock back into her mouth and began sucking it like crazy while placing two fingers inside Ingrid. Ingrid squirmed against the intrusion for a second, then settled into the finger fucking. "Can I do another finger?" Ingrid asked, while slipping her finger in and out of Emily's tight backside.

Emily let Ingrid's cock pop out of her mouth. "Sure...Just go slow. I'll tell you if I need you to stop."

Ingrid added more lube, then slowly worked her finger inside. Emily moaned, jerked, then grabbed Ingrid's wrist and stopped her. After a few moments, she relaxed her grip and let her finish inserting the finger. Now, Ingrid started licking Emily's clit, with two fingers deep in her nice round butt. Emily moaned loudly, then bucked a little. "I'm cumming." Emily cried out, then bucked against Ingrid's fingers a little bit, gasping for breath. "Yes...Yes....Oh....." Emily said. "shit!" She cried out. Then she took Ingrid's cock back into her mouth and started sucking like crazy. Ingrid's cock was pretty much hard now so Emily quit sucking and extricated herself from Ingrid's fingers and straddled her hips. Emily was biting her lip, looking down at Ingrid.

Ingrid smiled up at her, not sure what she was going to do. Emily surprised her then as she took the lube and squirted a lot of it into her palm, then rubbed it roughly on Ingrid's already softening cock. Emily took the it and placed the tip against her sphincter and took a deep breath. "Are you sure?" Ingrid said, looking surprised.

"It's a day of firsts." Emily said, smiling. She lowered herself onto Ingrid's cock a little bit, taking in the tip. It was really tight, but Ingrid's cock wasn't bigger than her two fingers, so it did fit without much more stretching, though it did feel more full. Emily gasped, then let it slide out. She bit her lip, then guided herself back onto it, grimacing as she took it all the way inside. Ingrid gasped from the sensation. It was so much better than masturbation, so tight, so warm. Emily sat there for a second, Ingrid's cock all the way inside her, then she started riding her. She came up too high a few times, apparently Ingrid thought, used to a little more length, but finally settled into it nicely. "Feels good now." Emily said panting. Ingrid had to agree, though she only moaned.

After about five minutes, Emily got up and turned around so her back was to Ingrid. She lowered herself onto Ingrid's cock again, taking it in easily this time and started riding her. After a few seconds, Ingrid realized why she did this as she felt a finger enter her backside. Ingrid spread her legs to allow access as Emily put in another finger. She was working her out good while she rode her cock. Ingrid wasn't ready for what happened next as she felt the cool tip of the dildo slip into her sphincter. She cried out as Emily pulled it out and slowly pushed it back inside. It felt incredible. Ingrid moaned loudly. "Yes....Yeah...Fuck.." She managed, as Emily started pushing the dildo in and out in rhythm with her own strokes. Emily was totally into it now, and amazingly had figured out the rhythm very well. She was riding Ingrid's cock, fucking her with the dildo and managing to rub her own clit like crazy in the process. Talk about multitasking. This lasted for about one minute, then Emily cried out, orgasming.

Ingrid was going crazy with ecstasy, and could feel it building. Right after Emily came Ingrid felt like she couldn't hold out any more. "I'm going to cum..." Ingrid said, gasping.

"Go ahead." Emily said, then began fucking her harder. So, Ingrid did. She relaxed, convulsed and shot her load into Emily's tight backside. Emily stopped when she felt Ingrid quit convulsing and looked back over her shoulder. "Wow." she said, gasping.

Ingrid opened her eyes and looked up at her. "Yeah...Holy shit." Ingrid said, barely able to speak. Emily pulled up and let Ingrid's cock pop out of her. Cum ran out and she queefed, which made both of them giggle. "Sorry." Emily said. The cum pooled on Ingrid's stomach. There wasn't a whole lot of it though. Ingrid grabbed a towel she had dropped next to the bed and wiped it off, then handed the towel to Emily, who cleaned herself up a little too. Ingrid realized the dildo was still inside her, but was reluctant to let it out. She squeezed her buttocks and it slid out, also with a slight queef. "See, you aren't the only one." Ingrid said, and they both laughed.

The two girls laid there for a little while and smoked a cigarette. Ingrid looked at her. Their eyes locked for a moment, then Ingrid smiled. "Thanks, Emm." She said, exhaling a thin plume of smoke. "You are awesome."

Emily smiled back at her and gave her a kiss. "Thanks. You are too."

Ingrid started laughing. "What?" Emm said.

"You are a horrible influence on me, Emily Vandiveer." she panted. "First you get me smoking...now, you've made me into your whore." She grinned.

"Oh, you know it." Emily said. "I'm a horrible influence. You just wait." She said smugly.

They both laughed. "I never thought I would let someone fuck me in my ass." Emily said flatly. "But, I never anticipated it being a pretty girl either." Emily looked at her thoughtfully. "Wait...was that gay sex or straight sex?"

Ingrid just shrugged. "I think that was just dirty sex." She grinned ear to ear, unable to really answer that question herself.

"Well..It was fucking cool is what it was." Emily said then kissed her on the lips. "Now..lets go take a shower...I have cum dripping out of my butt."

They laughed again, then got up and took a shower together.

Thanksgiving was a terrible drain on Richard. He had dreaded it more than anything else, since it marked a year since his parent's death. He talked to Emm a lot during the week, the two of them now a little more than friends, but not really lovers. He realized that both of them didn't really want a relationship, especially since it was very clear that Emily was attracted to Ingrid, and not Richard. Since Richard was unable to be Ingrid all the time, he resigned himself to be happy with that arrangement. He honestly was just happy to have a friend again after so long in his self imposed exile. Their relationship was that of girlfriends, even though Richard spent 90% of their time together as a boy.

Thanksgiving day with the family was very bad. No one pushed him to be happy about it though, which he didn't think he'd be able to muster anyway. His uncle took pity on him late in the afternoon, while the rest of the family was gathered around watching football.

"Hey Rich." he said, sitting down next to him on the couch. "You hanging in there?"

Richard sighed and nodded. "Yeah...I'm full."

Uncle Fred frowned. "That's not what I meant. Do you have something you'd rather do? You don't have to stick around here if you don't want to. I know you aren't into football, and you look horribly bored." Fred said smiling. The smile turned wry and he leaned in and said quietly. "And I know you are dying for a cigarette after that big meal."

Richard looked at him terrified. He'd been caught. "Ummm..." Richard said, dumbly.

"It's ok. You are busted, but..." Fred smiled. "Fuck it. You've been through a lot, and I can't say a whole hell of a lot about it either. I was doing it at your age too. We'll talk about it later."

Richard felt relieved, but still wanted to deny it. Fred just patted him on the shoulder. "Go out for a while. See you later tonight. Go have fun. See if your friend Emily can hang out with you." With that, Fred returned to watching the game just in time to see a touchdown. Richard meekly got up and gave his Aunt a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm going out for a while." he said. She nodded.

"Be careful. See you tonight." She said, then kissed him back. "You gonna be ok?"

He nodded, then grabbed his coat and his keys and headed out. Richard pulled up in the garage of his house a little while later. HE closed the garage door and let himself in. The cleaning crew had been in. That's how he'd been busted. They ratted him out. He dropped his keys on the counter and headed up stairs. Thirty minutes later, make-up applied and clothes changed, he was Ingrid. He instantly felt better the moment he started putting on his make-up. He was once again, a she.

Ingrid sat at the vanity and smoked a cigarette while painting her nails. She knew she'd have to take the polish off in a few hours, but it felt nice anyway. She selected a nice deep red. It was a little more tarty than she normally did, but it looked really cool. She had done her make up in a nice, daytime look using earth tones and a mineral powder that gave her a no make up look. When she finished it up, it actually looked like she wasn't wearing any make up but mascara and eyeliner. The make up made a big difference though, transforming her from Richard into Ingrid. She waited for her nails to dry, watching C-span, then got up and went to the closet.

She looked through the clothes, not even sure what kind of outfit she wanted to put on, but knew she wanted to wear some clothes today, not just a robe or casual clothes. It was a holiday, and she wanted to dress up a little. She really liked little black dresses, and so had her mother. Since her mother had liked them so much, the hardest thing to do was to decide on which little black dress to wear. Ingrid settled on a classic black cocktail dress by Tadishi that fell to right above the knees, had long sleeves, a V neck and a really cute pleated texture.. It hugged her thin frame nicely and looked great on her. Ingrid stood in front of the mirror for a minute, checking herself out from all angles, then selected a pair of black tights and a pair of Bruno Magli high heel boots. She stopped and smoked another cigarette while she played with her hair in the mirror.

"I'm really going to have to do something about this hair," she said out loud. She got up and went into the bathroom. Her mother had left some hair care products in there, but she hadn't bothered to look through but one of the drawers where she had found the brushes, barrets and clips. She opened the drawer right below it and was surprised to find hair. Ingrid grinned ear to ear as she started pulling the hair pieces out of the drawer. She knew that her mother had worn them, but hadn't thought to look for them before now Since her mother had changed her hair color rather regularly, she had brown and blonde hair extensions in the drawer. Ingrid pulled out on of them that she had seen her mother wear a few years ago. It was a rear hair extension with a bunch of little comb clips on it. Most of her extensions were the kind you glued on, but Ingrid had no idea how to put those on and knew she couldn't waste all her time messing with them today. So, she followed the instructions on the package for the rear extension.

She put her hair up on top of her head with a clip and attached the nape extension right above the nape of her neck. Once she had it firmly in her hair, she let the rest of it fall down. Presto, she now had flowing brown hair to her mid back. Ingrid wasn't sure what to do with the front, so she looked through the drawer and found another 8 inch extension with clips that was intended for the crown. She brushed her hair into a side part then attached the extension, giving her a very long bang in the right part which she secured with a silver barret.

Ingrid stopped and had a cigarette, while she thought about what she wanted to do with her hair after that. She grabbed her computer and looked for an article she'd read a while back. She smiled when she got to the article that said, Beehives are back and how to make a pony bump hairdo. She pulled out her brush and hairspray and started to work, teasing up the crown of her hair to make that classic beehive bump. Very pleased with it, but now feeling that her make-up wasn't what she wanted, Ingrid sat back down at the Vanity.

She pulled up the cat's eyes tutorial she'd used a few times before and started to work with her liquid eyeliner. After twenty minutes, and a few tries she had some pretty groovy cat's eyes, which she topped off with some cool blue and white eye shadow. A touch of true red lipstick and she thought she looked pretty fierce. After admiring the look for a couple of minutes she leaned back in the chair and lit a cigarette. She put on her black framed Channel glasses and realized that they didn't take away from the look, they kind of added to it, since they were very much like the glasses Audrey Hepburn had worn in Charade. That made her think of Bradley. She smiled.

"All dressed up and no place to go." She sighed, then posed in front of the mirror with for a minute while she smoked. "Well...I'm going to go somewhere." she said. "Mainly so I can stop talking to myself." she said then laughed.

Ingrid grabbed the silver Rolex, which she realized was actually platinum, and put on a string of pearls. She thought they just looked right with the outfit. She lingered looking at the earrings that matched the pears and was really sad that her ears weren't pierced. She made a mental note to fix that situation as soon as possible as she hunted for some clip-ons in her mothers stuff. Unfortunately, like most women who have had their ears pierced multiple times, her mother didn't have any clip-ons. So She shrugged and started loading her ID, Money and stuff into the little Gucci wallet, then put everything else into the same Prada bag she'd been carrying. It was still pretty cold outside, so she grabbed the same Sophia coat and gloves from the other night and headed down stairs.

Ingrid drove towards the shopping area near her house. The roads weren't crowded, since it was a holiday and most people were with their families. She noticed that the Barnes and Nobles was open and pulled in. IT wasn't very crowded though, so she got out of the car and went inside. She stepped inside and looked around. Thomas, the clerk she'd seen in here the other night was behind the counter. He saw her too and still didn't twig on to the fact that it was Richard, who he'd seen in here yesterday. Thomas smiled at Ingrid, who smiled back politely and headed into the store. She took off her gloves and was happy to see the red painted nails. It finished off her look so much more, and made her hands look even more dainty. She looked through some fashion magazines, then headed over to the register.

"Hi again," Thomas said, grinning at her. "I know you don't have a discount card, so I won't ask." he said. She laughed and smiled at him then handed her magazines to him. It was a copy of American Vogue and Elle. He rang her up, still smiling at her. Such better service as Ingrid, She thought as she took her change. "Can I ask you a question, miss..." He said expectantly.

"Ingrid." she said, smiling at him. "You are..." she feigned looking at his badge. "Thomas. Yes Thomas, I guess you can ask me a question" She laid on the accent thickly.

"Are you a model?" He asked, leaning in towards her.

She looked at him, a little shocked. Her eyes widened. 'No...Why?"

He shook his head. "Come on...You look like a model...You are so...Fashionable. You just look classy. Like royalty or an old time movie star. You don't look like most of the teenage girls who come in here, that's all."

Ingrid took in the complement, and blushed. She didn't dress like them. She had never really thought about it, she wore what she liked, and fortunately, had access to a massive collection of very nice, expensive clothes, even if they were last year's or the year before's fashions. She was also fairly sure that there was a good deal of older things in the attic that his mother had meant to send to the charity shops but never got around to. "Is this bad?" She asked. "Do I look...Funny?"

He shook his head, and a look of terror crossed his face as if he suddenly thought he'd totally offended her. "No! you look great. I mean, that's why I asked if you were a model. Because I thought asking if you were a princess or something would just sound strange." He smiled at her.

Ingrid couldn't help but laugh. Thomas was always friendly to Richard, suggesting books he might like and seemed pretty cool. He was really tall, about six foot four, so he towered over Ingrid even in her four inch heels. He was cute, in that unkempt, college aged smart guy kind of way. She smiled. "You are nice, Thomas." She pronounced the name like Toe Mas. "Thank you."

Thomas chewed at his lip for a second. "Ingrid. I'm getting off work in ten minutes. Would you like to go for a drink?"

Ingrid looked at him stunned. "Ummm..." she said, unsure of how to answer. "I'm...Well, I'm not old enough to drink in this country." she said. "sorry."

He laughed. "Ok...Coffee then?" He smiled at her. "I'll buy."

Ingrid was waiting outside smoking a cigarette when Thomas came out. He smiled at her and walked over to her, fishing pack of Camel lights out of his pocket. He lit one up and put the pack back in his leather coat's pocket. "I've been waiting three hours for that." he said, grinning. "So...It's cold out here. Want to go over to the Grind and get some coffee?"

Ingrid nodded. "Sure. You have a car?" She said, then noticed he was holding a motorcycle helmet. She smiled at him and feigned knocking herself in the forehead with the heel of her leather gloved hand. "No. You have motorbike."

He pointed over to a slightly older Red Ducati. "Yep. So, I suppose you don't want to ride with me, since you are not dressed for it. I'll meet you over there?"

She shrugged. "Or you could ride with me and I bring you back when we are done?" She said.

He thought for a second and said, "Ok. Sounds good. Where's your car."

Ingrid pushed the unlock button and her Mercedes SUV beeped. "Right here." she said, leading him over. He rushed around and opened her door for her. Ingrid blushed and got inside. He closed her door and went around and got in.

"Nice ride." he said, looking around. "Is this an Oh eight?"

She nodded and started the car. "Yes. I got it for my six..." she started, then said, "Birthday."

He caught the slip and smiled. "You are sixteen?" he said, incredulously.

Ingrid blushed again. "Yes." she looked over at him. "Do you still want to go have coffee?" She asked timidly.

He grinned. "Hey. It's just coffee. No harm. No foul. I was going to meet some friends there anyway."

Ingrid pulled out of the parking lot. "How old are you, Thomas?"

He flicked his cigarette out the window and let it up. "I'm 21. Just turned 21 actually, in October."

Ingrid looked back at the road. "Ah." She said, then smiled. Her mind was racing. She was going to coffee with a 21 year old man. Not a high school boy. It was freaking her out a little bit. "So, you are in University?"

"Yeah. I'm a Senior at GWU." he said. "George Washington University."

Ingrid laughed. "I know that much, Thomas. I have lived here a year."

He laughed and held up his hands. "Ok. Sorry."

They pulled into the parking lot and she shut off the car. The two of them went inside, happy to be inside where it was warm. There were some other college aged kids in there as well as a couple of kids from Richard's school. Ingrid almost panicked, thinking she'd be discovered when they all stared at her, then she quickly realized that some of the college boys were staring too. She smiled and followed Thomas to the counter. He ordered a mocha, she ordered an Espresso and a water. The two of them sat down in a booth and waited for their drinks. Thomas took off his leather coat and threw it on the bench, then helped her out of her coat.

"Thank you. Such a gentleman." She said, then laid her coat on the bench. She took off the leather gloves and placed them on the table under her handbag then she sat down on the bench and crossed her ankles.

"That's a very pretty dress." he said, looking her up and down. "Are you sure you're sixteen?" he said, incredulously.

Ingrid laughed. "Yes. I'm very sure." Her voice, always a little husky and rough edged though high, sounded even more sexy when she purred it out like that. Thomas shook his head, but refrained from saying anything else.

Ingrid pulled out a cigarette and was looking for her lighter when Thomas produced a zippo and lit it for her. "Danke." she said. "Thank you."

"Welcome." He said,then lit his own cigarette.

"Hey Thomas." someone said. Ingrid looked up into the face of another college boy. This guy was a little shorter than Thomas, with unruly blonde hair and a wide grin. "We were going to invite you over to sit with us, but I see you've found much better company. I'm Jeff." the boy said, offering his hand.

"Ingrid." She said, shaking his hand lightly. "Thomas. If you would rather join your friend, It is ok with me." She said, hoping he would say no and stay with her anyway. She really didn't want to be alone today.

"Bah." Thomas said. "I see these losers every day at school. But, Jeff can join us if you don't mind. For a minute." he said, stressing the for a minute for Jeff's benefit.

"Ok." Jeff said, pulling over a chair. "I get the hint, and won't over stay my welcome. I just had to come over and be sure that my eyes weren't fooling me. And, they apparently were not. Thomas is sitting in the Fine Grind, on Thanksgiving day with a model."

"See." Thomas said, gesturing to Jeff. "He thinks so too."

Ingrid blushed. She had never thought she was that good looking, pretty yes, but model? No. Her mother had been a total knock out, and a model and a beauty queen, but Ingrid had always thought the comparisons to her were always overstated.

"It is just the clothing, no?" Ingrid said, trying to cover her embarrassment.

"Nope." Jeff said brashly. "Not just the clothes, though you are making all of us feel quite underdressed." Jeff smiled and held up his hands. "It is thanksgiving, and I understand that most people dress up and do stuff with their families then if they are lucky, they escape and do something fun." He looked over at Thomas as Ingrid giggled. "Or, in your case come with Thomas to this little joint for some espresso."

"I am happy to meet you Jeff." Ingrid said. "You are funny." She took a drag from her cigarette, then gently flicked the ashes in the ashtray. "You have known Jeff long?" she asked Thomas.

"Unfortunately." he said Both the boys laughed. "No. Seriously. I've known Jeff since fifth grade."

"Wow." Ingrid said. "Long time." She took a sip of her espresso.

"Yep. Where do you go to school, Ingrid?" Jeff asked. "What college?"

Ingrid blushed, not sure how to answer the question, but fortunately was saved by the bell. Literally. Her phone was ringing. "Hold on a moment." Ingrid said.

"Gr០dich!" Ingrid purred into the phone.

"Ingrid?" Emily said.

"Hey." Ingrid said, smiling. "How are you?"

"Fine." Emily said. "Whatcha doin?"

"I'm at the Fine Grind. YOU?" Ingrid said, pulling out another cigarette, which Thomas lit for her, despite the fact that she was going for her own lighter. She smiled graciously.

"Cool. Want company?" Emily said.

"Yes" Ingrid said emphatically. "I do. Come here and meet my new friends, Thomas and Jeff."

"Thomas and Jeff huh?" Ingrid said. "Cute?"

"Yes." Ingrid said, eyeing Thomas. She smiled as she took a drag from her cigarette. "Come here."

"Ok. I'll be there in just a minute. I got the car and am not far from there anyway." Emily said. "Toodles."

"Tscháus!" Ingrid said, then hung up the phone.

They both looked at her expectantly. She smiled and put her iPhone back in her handbag. "My friend Emm is coming here."

They both looked at one another. "Cool," Thomas said, "Another model?" Then both guys laughed. Ingrid laughed with them.

"No. We are neither models. She is very pretty though. Far prettier than me." Ingrid said, playing up the choppy english, but with complete sincerity.

"That's hard to believe." Thomas said, trying hard not to sound like too much of a suck up.

Ingrid realized she needed to go to the bathroom. "Excuse me." she said, then put out her cigarette and picked up her hand bag. "I will be right back." she said, then walked to the bathroom. She'd used the ladies before but it still made her nervous. She went in and did her business with no problems, then stopped and refreshed her lipstick before heading back out. Just as she walked out of the bathroom, Emily walked in.

She smiled at Emily, who looked her up and down and smiled back. Emily was also dressed up, thank fully, since she'd been with her family all afternoon too. She was wearing a very nice little black dress of her own, and boots along with her black pea coat. Her hair was in a nice up do, with wisps framing her face. "You look great." Ingrid said, giving her a hug.

"You too." Emily said, returning the hug. "I love the hair. YOU have to show me how to do that." Emily said kissing her on the cheek.

Ingrid turned and presented her to her new friends, who were also very appreciative of her outfit...or what was under it. "Thomas, Jeff....This is my friend Emily. Emily, Thomas and Jeff."

They shook hands with her then she sat down with Ingrid. Jeff made room for her. "I was about to get a refill. Can I get you anything?" Jeff asked.

"Ummm...A coffee. Regular coffee." Emily said smiling. "Thank you."

"Could you get me another espresso, Thomas?" Ingrid said, batting her lashes at him.

"Sure." Thomas said, getting up and following Jeff to the counter.

"You are right. They are cute. And older...College guys?" Emily said, giving Ingrid the eye.

Ingrid laughed. "Yeah. They go to GWU."

"Do they realize we are both total jail bait...not to mention..." Emily started, grinning.

"No. and No." Ingrid said. "Well...Thomas knows I'm only sixteen, but Jeff doesn't. I'm trying to avoid the whole conversation. And now, maybe we can both steer that conversation around it."

"Gotcha." Emily said, lighting a cigarette. "I recognize Thomas now...he works at the bookstore at the plaza."

Ingrid nodded. "Bingo." She said,then looked up smiling at Thomas who had returned with her espresso. Jeff was right behind him with Emily's coffee.

"Here you are." Jeff said, presenting the coffee to her. Emily smiled graciously and accepted the cup.

Thomas just smiled at Ingrid and slid her the cup.

The four of them sat and talked for another hour, and Ingrid was having a great time. Then, Thomas looked down at his watch. "Crap. I gotta go. Dinner with the parents at six." Jeff looked surprised, then looked at his watch.

"Me too." Jeff said. "Sorry ladies."

Ingrid looked up at Thomas. "I will give you a ride back to your motorbike." She said, standing up. Ingrid turned and gave a hug to Emily. "See you soon, honey. Call me?"

Emily gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Bye hon. Be careful."

Thomas and Ingrid exited together, and once again Thomas opened the door for her. Ingrid climbed in and let Thomas shut the door. "You are such a gentleman, Thomas." She said, smiling at him.

"Thank you." Thomas said. " I try."

The ride was oh, so short, Ingrid thought. Thomas really surprised her when he leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride. You'll come see me soon, right?"

Ingrid nodded. "I will. Be careful on that motorbike, ok?" Thomas nodded. "Can do. Bye."

Ingrid went back to the house and parked her car in the garage. She wandered up stairs and laid down on the bed, not wanting to change clothes and change back into Richard. She watched the minutes roll by and decided to have one last cigarette before changing. She had a lot of conflicting emotions right now, sadness over her parents, happiness over meeting Thomas, the thrill of her and Emily's encounter. It was a lot to take in. She finished her cigarette, then got up and took a shower.

Half an hour later, she was Richard again. Or was she?

She looked in the mirror and realized that Ingrid never really went away. She just hid her beauty. The face was exactly the same, his complexion was just as pretty, the nose and high cheekbones still there. The pouty lips that had always belonged to Richard just looked so much better with lipstick, than plain. The eyes were a big difference, they didn't POP the same without the mascara and eye liner. Without his glasses on, he still looked like Ingrid, he thought, studying himself in the mirror. He put on his glasses, and he was definitely Richard. He took them off and put on Ingrid's Channel glasses, and he was definitely Ingrid, sans make-up. Richard laughed out loud.

"Like Clark Kent." Richard said, laughing. He took off the Channel glasses and put them back in their holder on the vanity, putting his tortoise shell men's glasses back on. Richard was about to get up to leave, when he noticed that his fingernails were still painted. He shook his head, then sat down and took the polish off. Finally, around seven, he was ready to go back to his Aunt's and Uncle's house.

It was cold out on the range this morning. The annual Black Friday shoot was well under way. Richard's uncle had already shot his match and done fairly well, so he had come back to sit with Richard to wait for his age class. Finally, it was Richard's turn. He walked up to the starting point, butterfly's in his stomach. Nervous. He stopped and adjusted his ear protection, then made sure his shooting glasses were settled properly. He took a deep breath and let it out, then adjusted his pistol in it's holster. The Kimber 1911 was fine tuned and ready to rock. There was no way he could blame any problems in his shooting on the gun, since it's capabilities far outweighed his own. He finally stepped up onto the starting point.

"Shooter ready?" the starter said. Richard nodded, not taking his eyes off the first group of targets.

BEEEEEPPPP!

The buzzer sounded. Richard drew and fired. Sight, acquire, fire. Sight, acquire, fire. Lather, rinse, repeat. He knocked down the first targets fast and was reloading on the move. He rolled under a beam and came up in a kneeling position then knocked down the next targets. The rest of the match was a blur. Richard was moving fast and was on his game. He didn't miss a single target, get a safety violation, or trip up in any way. When he was finished, he was out of breath and smiling ear to ear.

"Good shooting." The timekeeper said, patting him on the back. "Make your weapons safe, range flag in. Collect your stuff"

Richard nodded. He hadn't dropped anything, that he knew of, but he backtracked though the course anyway. Uncle Fred was grinning at him when he approached.

"That was the best shooting in the Juniors division I've seen all season. And in this cold!" he gave Richard a big hug, then helped him out of his pistol belt. Uncle Fred took the Kimber 1911 and put it in it's case. "I think you've got it wrapped up. Damn, that means we have to wait until they give out awards." Fred said, giving him a look of definitely mock anger.

"You don't think you won anything?" Richard said, changing out his shooting glasses for his real ones.

"Nope. My time was poor. Knees bothering me today. I did fine on my targets, it's the movement that gives me trouble some times now." Fred said, perching himself back up on the bench.

Sure enough, Richard did win first place in the Juniors division. And, Fred came in sixth in regular competition.

They loaded everything in Uncle Fred's Expedition then climbed in, very glad it had such a good heater. As they were leaving the range, Fred looked over at Richard. "Good shooting, Richard." he said in German. "Thanks. " Richard replied, slipping into German himself. Fred smiled. Fred had been, in his younger days with the CIA, an actual field operative. He'd worked in Germany throughout most of his career, back during the Cold War. He was pleased Richard had picked up German so well, and often spoke German with him to keep him in practice. "I wanted to talk to you about your new habit." Fred continued, still speaking German.

Oh, shit. Richard thought. Here's where I get in trouble. "Ya." Richard said, meekly. "I knew this was coming eventually." he said, instictively speaking German himself now.

"I'm not going to read you the riot act over this. But, it is dangerous, Richard. Bad for you. But, you know that." Fred said, his German accented towards Berlin, while Richard's carried more of a Bon accent.

"I know, Uncle." Richard said quietly. "I know." Richard looked at him. "Did the cleaning crew rat me out?" Richard asked, wondering how he was caught.

Uncle Fred laughed. "Richard, I was a CIA Operative for 25 years. I know I'm an analyst now, but the day I need a cleaning crew to provide me with intelligence I can get for myself, is the day I need to retire."

Richard laughed. He had actually not really put it together, that Fred would be far more observant than most people just from his line of work. "Ok. So, what's my punishment?" Richard said calmly.

"None." Fred said, giving him a sideways look. "As long as your Aunt Betty doesn't find out, then there isn't going to be any. If she finds out, then you're all hers and I will deny all knowledge."

Richard nodded. "Ok. Deal. I'll be careful."

"I did notice a few other things. Anything you want to talk about, Rich?" Fred said. He did sound very understanding, compassionate, but Richard didn't know what to say.

"No. Not right now, if that's ok." Richard said, hoping Fred wouldn't push it.

"Ok. When you are ready to talk, we'll talk." Fred said as they pulled into the drive way.

Richard started to get out of the car but Fred reached over and put his hand on Richard's arm. In English he said, "Hey...and I know how many bottles of wine there are in the cellar. The rats have been running off with them at an alarming rate in the last few weeks. Please make sure they slow down a little, ok?"

Richard blushed and nodded, then jumped out of the car. He could hear Fred's chuckle as he climbed out his door.

School started back the following week. For Richard, school was a double edged sword. He loved school during class, but the time between was horrible. He felt horribly alone there, for one thing. It was an all boys school and he hardly felt like a boy any more. He was small and very skinny, at 5'9 and 115 lbs, he stood out like a sore thumb among them. His voice was high, but rough edged, making him sound more like a young Cathleen Turner than a 16 year old boy. None of these things worked in his favor for popularity. Add to all this his 4.0 average and he's socially doomed in American High school, even one this prestigious.

Gym class was the worst. He never felt like he could compete with the other boys in most areas, and his Gym Teacher did understand why because of what had happened to him, but that still didn't make it any easier. The locker room was the worst though. He dreaded it every time, just waiting for something to happen. The second week after Thanksgiving, the week before they got out for Christmas break, something fnally did.

Richard was changing clothes, putting his school uniform back on, trying his best to get it done quickly.

"Damn. Richard looks like a fucking girl from behind." Lawrence Fincher said, laughing The other boys joined in, especially Todd Caldwell- one of the biggest dickheads in Richard's class. "Yeah, " Todd said. "Not enough that he was already the biggest fruit in the school...now he's starting to look like a girl."

Richard turned around to face them. He was wearing his slacks and his shirt was still unbuttoned. "Leave me alone. It's not my fault I...." Richard started.

"Shut up, Faggot." Lawrence said. "I know you love coming in the locker room so you can look at all of us getting undressed."

Richard was furious. "Fuck you." Richard said. His voice was calm, but seething with pent up anger.

"What kind of language is that for a young lady." Todd said, which made everyone else bust out laughing. "I think I'm going to wash your mouth out with soap." He started towards Richard.

There was really no thought in the action, Richard realized later when he thought about it. He'd been taking Krav Maga for a long time and had practiced these moves so many times that his muscle memory just did it without his mind having to tell his body what to do.

Todd reached for him, so Richard grabbed him by the wrist and twisted him into an arm bar, then threw several hard punched to Todd's groin. Todd cried out and hit the ground. Lawrence was coming for him now, swinging for his head. Richard blocked by counter punching, punching Lawrence's arm out of the way, following it up with a nasty knee to the stomach. Lawrence fell back a little, and Richard just pressed. He threw a couple of hard elbows, one blocked, the other catching Lawrence in the nose.

Richard was in it now, not thinking about anything except taking Lawrence down. Then, strong hands had him by the shoulders and someone was yelling. Richard started to fight him too, but realized that it was Bradley Worthington, and that he was breaking up the fight.

"Hey, Lawrence. Get the fuck away from him!" Bradley yelled. "What the hell are you doing?"

Lawrence just looked at him stunned. Todd was getting up now, still in obvious pain. "If you touch him again, you'll have to deal with me." Bradley said, his eyes burning into Lawrence.

Bradley turned him around. "Are you ok? Rich?" He asked, then noticed that Richard didn't have any obvious injuries. He looked puzzled, then looked over at Lawrence, who's nose was bleeding and at Todd who was having a little trouble walking. "You fucked them up." Bradley said, barely above a whisper. "Serves them right...but you need to watch your back now, ok?"

Richard just nodded, still kinda stunned by the whole thing. Those guys outweighed him by at least 60 lbs each, and were much stronger. Richard had just known where to hit and how to use his opponent's weight against them. "Thanks Bradley." Richard said, looking up at him. It was really hard not to look at him like a love-struck teenage girl, which is what Richard felt like whenever he saw him. "I'll get dressed and get out of here." he said, then turned back to his locker and quickly got dressed. Bradley was looking at him kind of funny. "Yeah. Go on." Bradley said, then he turned and left.

Richard was completely busy with school work for the next couple of weeks, getting ready for exams and stuff. He was going to the house everyday after school and actually studying. He would get comfortable, which meant dressing as Ingrid and doing his make-up and hair, before studying. Right after Thanksgiving, he had taken the Channel glasses over to the one hour glasses place in the mall and had his prescription lenses put in, so now he could wear the glasses longer without getting a headache. He'd also ordered a pair of really nice breast forms from the internet. These were really expensive forms and had cost his entire allowance for the week, but it had been worth it. They were really nice ultra soft forms that matched his skin tone really well and looked very natural. They were B cups and looked fantastic attached. He'd ordered several tubes of adhesive and remover, but hadn't had a chance to attach them yet, so he just inserted them into his bras. They looked fantastic attached, though he really wanted to attach them so he could wear them without a bra.

"Soon." He said out loud. Only after saying it did he realize he'd used Ingrid's voice, not his own. He smiled at that and finished dressing for his study time. He put on matching red bra and panty set, complete with his new breasts. Then he put on a pair of black leggings and a long black sweatshirt. He brushed out his hair and did his make-up, which only took him about ten minutes to do now. Finally, he put on the glasses and he was no longer Richard. He was definitely Ingrid.

Ingrid sat down at the desk in the sunroom and lit a cigarette. She finished her homework quickly, but still had a lot of studying to do. Unfortunately, she was feeling really restless and having a hard time concentrating. She realized that she wasn't going to get anything done when she caught herself just sitting there smoking and staring out the window. "I'm not going to get anything done like this." she said in German. So, she stood up and stretched, then walked into the bedroom. Ingrid wasn't really sure why she was so restless, then she realized that she hadn't done anything except study for the last two weeks. Yes, she'd played around on the computer and watched some teevee, but she hadn't gone anywhere and actually talked to anyone. It was starting to get to her. So, she put her books back in her book satchel, one she'd taken from her mother's closet not the one she carried as Richard, and transferred her stuff to her favorite Prada handbag. It was really cold out now, so she went through the closet and found a heavier coat. She found a lovely Prada Fur trimmed puffer jacket, black with black fur. It was so soft it was sinful, and it still held the lingering smell of her mother's perfume in the fur. After a quick rummage in the closet, she found a pair of Christian Louboutin platform boots that went great with the outfit and ten minutes later she was backing out of the driveway.

Ingrid made a quick stop at a convenience store and picked up a pack of cigarettes. The guy behind the counter was looking at her sort of funny, she thought, then she realized he was checking her out. She smiled at him and flirted a little with her smile as she took her change. "Danke." She said, then smiled at him and walked out. As Richard, she never had gotten much attention at all. As Ingrid, she was constantly having guys flirt with her, or just stare unabashedly. It made her feel good, and weird at the same time.

She was getting in her car when another car pulled up next to her. She was busy putting her purse in the car, not paying attention to who it was when she heard someone call her name.

"Ingrid?" A male voice said behind her. She looked over her shoulder, not sure who it was and really worried, actually that someone had recognized her. When she saw who it was, she almost lost it.

"Ummm...Hello, Bradley." She said, putting on the accent thickly. "How are you?"

He was leaning on the roof of his car, well truck actually. It was an old 1960s Landcruiser, lovingly restored but currently muddy and in serious need of a wash. "I thought that was you. You stand out, you know." He said, flashing his winning smile.

She cocked her head at him and gave him a questioning look. All the while she was opening her cigarette pack. "How so?" she said, wondering what she was doing wrong.

"Well...." he said, hopping down from his car and walking around the front. He leaned against the front quarter panel. "You always look very chic...Dressed like you just came out off a movie set. Like.." he smiled, remembering her first comment to him when they'd met at the restaurant. "Like Audrey Hepburn or something. Not like these other chicks who try to look like Paris Hilton or whatever."

She felt relieved. "Should I try to look like...Paris Hilton?" She said, then lit her cigarette. "Would that make me seem more..." She groped for a word in her mind, then exhaled her smoke. "Normal?"

Bradley laughed. "No. Definitely not. I don't know much about fashion, mind you. But I think your clothes are far nicer than theirs and they certainly look better on you."

Ingrid blushed. They were very nice, very expensive clothes. Her mother had very good and very expensive taste. So did she, she realized at that instant. "Thank you. What are you doing here?" she asked, unconsciously striking a pose next to her car. She stood with her leg angled, her left arm across her front and her right arm up, cigarette held daintily at her fingertips. It was a classic pose, and one she'd seen her mother adopt countless times in conversation.

"I was stopping by to get a snack. What are you up to?" He said.

"I was buying cigarettes, then going to get some coffee." She said, then took another drag, doing a quick snap inhale, her eyes never leaving his.

"Smoking is bad for you, ya know?" he said smiling.

"Yes. Everything fun is bad for you, Bradley." She said, giving him a smug little smile back.

"I know." he said. "Where are you going for coffee?"

"I'm going to the Fine Grind." She said, then accidentally said. "You want to come?"

His face lit up. "Sure. I'll meet you there."

Shit she thought. I didn't mean to do that. Now I will never get any studying done. "Ok." she said.

A few minutes later she was sitting at the Fine Grind. She had her book open on the table, next to her coffee cup and hadn't even taken a look at it. She was very nervously smoking a cigarette, flicking the ashes way too often and generally being fiddly. Then Bradley walked in. She melted every time she saw him, and had a very hard time not showing it when dressed as Richard.

"Hello, Bradley." she said, her face lighting up.

He said hello then went to the counter and ordered a hot chocolate. A minute or so later, he was back at the table.

"You do not like coffee, Bradley?" She asked, then took a drag from her cigarette. She'd been practicing french inhales since Emily had shown her how to do it, and managed a pretty good one. She always thought women looked really sexy doing it.

He shook his head. She could see that he thought it looked really sexy too, which made her very happy. "No...I don't like coffee, and I don't smoke." he said. "Actually, I usually don't like girls who smoke, but....I dunno...It makes you seem like an old time movie star, not like a teenage girl trying too hard to be cool." he quit trying to explain and shrugged, unable to express what he actually was feeling.

"Thank you, Bradley. I understand though. A lot of American's don't smoke now..they all lead long, dull, healthy lives." she said, flicking her cigarette over the ashtray. She smiled at him.

Bradley took a sip of his cocoa. "Blackhawk down." he said “You like to quote movies, Miss Ingrid. That's what the dude who captured the helicopter pilot said to him, Bradley said, smiling triumphantly.

Ingrid laughed. “Guilty as charged. I quote movies constantly. And you are one of the few people who always catches on.”

He smiled at her. "So...Where do you go to school?"

Ingrid looked up at him. She tried to keep her face passive, but inside she was totally panicking. She took a drag from her cigarette, buying herself some time. "I have tutors. I do not go to school." she said finally.

He nodded. "Cool." he said, looking her up and down. "That must be awesome. I would love to get my school done quick and get on with the day."

"Ja." she said, then shook her head. 'Yes. It is nice. But my tutors do carry on."

Bradley laughed, then got serious looking. "It's funny. It seems like I know you....It has since the moment we met at that restaurant." he said.

"I just have one of those faces....Like everyone else or something. Makes you think you know me." She said, trying to cover up.

"No. That's not it at all. You are very pretty. Strikingly pretty. That's the other thing. I can't think of how I could think I knew you without actually...I dunno. I'm still convinced we've met before and knew one another. Maybe in another life or something." he said, trying to make light of it.

"Yes." she said in all seriousness, "In another life." And she meant it.

A group of girls who were standing over at the counter talking to one another approached the table. One was tall and blonde, very cheerleader looking. Another had dirty blonde hair, cut short in a more sporty do. While the third was brunette with a straight bob. All of them were wearing long wool coats with scarves. Ingrid was eyeing them, trying to figure out what designer they were when they actually stopped at the table.

"Hi Bradley." the tall blonde said. "Who's your friend?"

Ingrid looked up at her and tapped her cigarette ash in the ashtray. Bradley smiled up at the girl. "Hi Britney. This is Ingrid. She's German."

"Hello." Ingrid said, giving her a little smile. "Nice to meet you."

The girl held out her hand. "Britney. And this is Carol and Sheila. Are you new in town?"

Ingrid took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Yes. I've only live here a few months." she said, then took a drag from her cigarette. "You may join us if you like."

The girls all pulled up chairs. Ingrid looked over at Bradley, who looked rather disappointed at them spoiling their intimate discussion, which made Ingrid feel quite good actually. That he cared, not that he was disappointed.

"I had to ask...Is that a Prada coat?" Sheila, the Brunette said, eyeing the coat.

Ingrid looked down at it. "Ya..Why?"

"I've never seen one of those in person, just in magazines. That's fox fur on the collar right?" Sheila said, eyeing the coat.

"Yes." Ingrid said, nodding. "I believe it is. It is very soft."

Sheila nodded, and kept looking at the coat. "Where do you go to school?" Britney said, interrupting Sheila.

"I do not. I have tutor." Ingrid said, taking a last drag from her cigarette and stubbing it out in the ashtray. "You go to school where?"

Britney smiled. "Sacred Heart. Do you know it?"

Ingrid smiled back at her. "Yes. My friend Emily goes to that school. Do you know her?"

Britney smiled. "Yeah. I know Emily. Emily Vandiveer. She's one grade below us. Nice girl. Weird, but in a cool way."

Ingrid looked at her, confused, playing up the language barrier. "I do not understand weird, but in a cool way?"

The other girls laughed. "She's just odd...like a rocker chick or something. Doesn't fit in at the school very well...but we don't dislike her. She's just not one of us really." Britney said, trying hard to explain it, and not offend Ingrid.

"Ah." Ingrid said, understanding that completely. "She is not part of your crowd."

"Right." Britney said. Ingrid nodded, then took a sip of her coffee. She looked at her watch. It was quarter to six.

"Bradley, dear." Ingrid said. It was an accidental slip, but it sounded right, so she just pushed on. "I must go. I have to be home for dinner in a little while." She turned to the girls. "It was very nice to meeting you." She said, standing.

Bradley stood up. "It was really good to see you again." he said shyly. He'd caught the "dear" part of that last exchange too and apparently liked it. "See you soon?"

"Yes." she said, then walked around the table and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Hopefully."

She picked up the little Prada handbag and put her cigarettes and lighter back inside. "Good bye." she said to the girls, then exited quickly. She got in the car and lit a cigarette. She waited a few seconds for her nerves to settle, then started it up and headed back to the house to get changed for dinner.

Bradley sat back down and stared out the window for a minute, ignoring the girls conversation. He watched Ingrid sit in her car and light a cigarette, then couldn't take his eyes off her while she sat there smoking. Finally, she put her Mercedes SUV in reverse and pulled out, disappearing from view.

“That girl is seriously rich.” Sheila said to the other girls. “I mean seriously.”

This brought back Bradley's attention.

“Huh?” he said, picking up his cocoa. “Why do you say that?”

Sheila looked at him like he was from Mars. “Are you kidding?” The other girls knew she was wearing some expensive clothes, but still didn't quite get it. “Look. You both know I want to go into fashion, right?”

Britney and Carol nodded. Bradley hadn't known, but he nodded to. “So, I keep up with such things. That coat...That's a two thousand dollar jacket. Those retro looking glasses, are Chanel...They are at least five hundred. And those boots, probably cost somewhere in the neighborhood of a thousand bucks too. And we aren't even going to get into the watch or the lighter.” Sheila said, sounding really superior since she actually knew something the others didn't.

“Really?” Bradley said, unconvinced. “Who would pay two grand for a coat?”

The other girls laughed. “I would...if I had it.” Sheila said. “And she did.” Gesturing with her head towards the door.

“That was a Rolex watch, wasn't it?” Britney said, certain of that. “But you said the lighter was expensive? I didn't think lighters were expensive, I thought you just threw them away.”

Sheila laughed. “Poor people throw them away.” She said, pulling out her own cigarettes and her little pink bic. She lit her cigarette by way of punctuation. “Rich people have lighters like that. That's, I believe, A gvinchy...Probably about three hundred dollars.” She put her lighter back in her purse and took a long drag from her Marlboro light. “I saw them at Tiffany's.”

Britney eyed Bradley. “Hanging out in some different circles, are we Bradley?”

The other girls laughed. “And she's really tall and thin...Pretty...Do you think she's a model?”

Sheila nodded. “ I think she might be. She's German. Living here for a short while. Has tutors. Either she's a model, or she might be royalty or something, a lot of dignitaries live up here in Arlington.”

Britney laughed. “Maybe. Remember the girl who lived her a few years ago. She was some kind of Duchess or something.”

“Countessa.” Carol said, piping in.

Bradley just looked out the window. Something was odd here, and he wasn't sure what it was. It was something about the car, and that familiar feeling he had when he saw her.

“Do you know, Bradley?” Britney said, taking Sheila's cigarette from her and taking a drag before handing it back. “Is she a model or a Princess?”

Bradley just shook his head. “I don't know.” he said. “But I really do want to find out.”

The last week of school before winter break was horribly long, and it seemed, troublesome. Richard was sitting in the lunchroom reading when he looked up and noticed that Bradley was staring at him. He pretended not to notice, but realized that he had not been paying attention to his mannerisms. Shit, Richard thought, was Bradley starting to put two and two together. Richard scooped up his tray and headed outside.

Mrs. Middleton, his guidance counselor, passed him in the hall. “Richard.” she said, stopping. “I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

Richard nodded, then followed her to her office. “What's up?” he asked.

She shut the door and gestured for him to sit. She sat behind the desk and put on her glasses. “I was looking at your record, and discovered something interesting.” she said, tapping on the keyboard. “It seems that with all your summer school...You will have enough credits to graduate in the spring.”

Richard was stunned. He knew he had really loaded up in the summer, but was completely unaware that he was that close to graduation. “Are you sure?” he asked, dubiously.

“Yes. I was surprised myself.” she said frankly. “I was looking at the student's bound for graduation report, and your name was on it. You don't have to graduate this Spring, mind you, you are just eligible.”

“I'd like to graduate this spring, Mrs. Middleton. That would be great.” he said, feeling excited. “What would I need to do?”

“Well, you'd need to take your graduation tests, which will probably be quite easy for a smart boy like you. Your grades will put you close to the top of the class, though a few points shy of Valedictorian or Salutatorian because of a few B's in your Freshman year.” She said.

“Ok...What else would I need?” he said.

“Well, you would need a letter signed by your parents...I mean, your guardians. Sorry.” she said, catching herself.

“That's ok.” he said, feeling suddenly sad. It wasn't her fault though.

“That's it.” She said, hitting print. “Here is the letter. Get this signed and we'll get your tests going. You would probably need to start looking at schools as well.” she said handing him the print out.

“Thank you.” Richard said, getting up. “I'll bring this back after Christmas break.” He grinned at her. “See you next year!”

Richard was excited. He hadn't really realized that he had enough credits to graduate. It all seemed worth it now, all the extra studying and long hours of summer school. He'd done it mainly as a way to get out of the house and to have something to do. Now, it was paying off in spades.

Richard was mostly excited because, if he was no longer in school, he could be Ingrid all the time. This made him more excited than he cared to admit. The rest of the day went by in a blur. As he was leaving school, he was climbing into his car when he noticed Bradley getting into his Land-cruiser a few spaces down. Bradley was staring at him. Richard waved quickly, then got in his car and backed out. He watched Bradley get into his car in his rear view mirror.

Richard went straight home, which was unusual, since he normally went to the old house right after school to have some time to himself as Ingrid before going home for dinner. Aunt Betty was home, which was also unusual, since she was normally at her office until after five. “Hi Aunt Betty.” he said, dropping his satchel next to the door. He stomped the snow off his boots and walked over to her. “You're home early.” he said, sitting down at the kitchen table with her.

“I was about to say the same thing to you.” Betty said, taking off her glasses and setting them on the table. “I had a few briefs to work on, and thought I would do it from home. What brings you home so early?”

Richard shrugged. “ I just wanted to drop off my books and stuff here. I was going to head over to the house in a bit.”

“You really like being over there all by yourself, huh?” Betty said, taking a sip of her tea.

“Yeah. I do. I can think there.” he said quietly.

“I understand.” Betty said. “Want some tea?”

Richard nodded. She got up to get him a cup. He leaned over and looked at the briefs she was working on. She was a Family Law Lawyer at a practice in DC. She rarely brought work home, so it was hard for him to actually think of her as a Lawyer. “Where's Uncle Fred?” he asked.

“He's working late tonight. Some kind of a situation at Langley.” She said, putting the cup down near Richard. “He'll probably be really late.”

“Want me to stay home with you?” Richard asked, picking up his tea cup.

She shook her head. “Why don't you go out with your friend Emily.”

“I might. I dunno what she's doing. We haven't talked much this week. Exams and all.” He said.

“I understand completely. But, it's the first night of Christmas break” Betty said, “I'm sure you'll want to go have some fun.” smiling at him. Her smile faltered a little and she looked like she wanted to ask him something.

“What?” Richard said.

“I wanted to ask you something.” Betty said. “I was looking over some of the paperwork your doctor sent over.”

Richard nodded. He'd looked at it.

“He says that he thinks you should start on hormone therapy, to get your testosterone levels up so you can develop properly.” She said, sounding concerned. “What do you think?”

Richard dreaded this conversation. He wanted to tell her that he wanted to start hormone therapy, but he wanted to start estrogen therapy, not testosterone. “I dunno, Aunt Betty.” He said. “Let me think about it.”

Betty nodded. “Ok, honey. I want you to do what you want.” she shook her head. “It's terrible that you should have to be making such a decision anyway.”

He sighed. “Yeah.” he said. “I'm gonna head over to the house for a while, ok?”

“Sure hon. You be home for dinner?” She asked.

“I don't know.” he said, standing up. “I'll call you in a little while.”

An hour later, Ingrid was putting the finishing touches on her make-up. She'd gone for a more dramatic, evening look. Smoky eyes, red lipstick, false eyelashes. She thought she was looking pretty fierce as she posed in front of the mirror. Ingrid took out her brush and started brushing out her hair. she'd picked up a new hair clip called a bump it. She'd played with it a little bit earlier, but this was her first time seriously putting it on. After following the instructions, she had the thing on and it looked great. It was so much easier getting a high bump with this. She'd been teasing out her hair for for a while now, and this thing was so cool. With her hair piled up high, she put in her eight inch extensions and it looked awesome.

Ingrid opened the drawer and pulled out the new breast forms. She eyed the tube of adhesive. She picked up the instructions, put on her glasses, and started reading. With a sigh, she started following the instructions to attach the forms. She added the glue and settled the forms in place. It didn't take long for them to set up and finally, she let go of them. They were hanging there. She stood up and posed in front of the mirror. It was amazing how much they transformed her. She turned and posed, smiling ear to ear. Finally, she selected a bra to match her panties and put it on. It was so nice to fill out the bra without having to stuff it with socks. The breast forms looked really natural, and the color matched her skin so well they looked like part of her. She actually jumped up and down with joy, then started laughing because of how the breasts jiggled.

Her phone rang. She dug into Richards coat and pulled it out. It was Emily.

“Hello, Girly.” She said, Ingrid's German accent coming on unbidden.

“Hey Ingrid.” Emily said. “I was expecting Richard.”

“Nope. Richard's not here. What's going on?” Ingrid said, sitting down at the Vanity. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, her eyes never leaving the beautiful new breasts affixed to her chest.

“I was wondering what you are doing this weekend.” Emily said. “Got any plans?”

Ingrid took a long drag, then exhaled while she talked. “No. No plans. Why?”

“I wanted to go skiing. You game?” Emily said.

“Where?” Ingrid asked. Her parents had kept a condo at Whitetail. She wasn't sure if they still owned it. IF they did, it meant she owned it now. “I think I might have a condo at Whitetail.”

“Really?” Emily said, sounding really excited. “That's where I was thinking. It's the closest one....won't spend all day driving there.”

“No.” Ingrid said. “We could get there in a couple of hours. Let me call my uncle and ask. Come on over, I have to show you something cool.”

“Ok. See you in about twenty minutes.” Emily said, then made a kissing noise and hung up.

She quickly dialed her uncle. He picked up on the second ring. “Hello.” Uncle Fred said. “What's up Richard?”

Ingrid smiled. “Hello Uncle Fred. Would it be ok if I went skiing this weekend?”

“I don't see why not.” Fred said. Ingrid could hear papers being shuffled around in the background.

“Cool. Do we still have the condo up there?” Ingrid asked, crossing her fingers.

“Yeah. You want to stay there?” Fred asked. “Are you up to something?”

“No, Uncle Fred. I'm not. I just want to go skiing.” Ingrid said, crossing her other fingers too.

“I'm not going to ask any other questions, I just expect you to behave. Understand?” Fred said.

Ingrid's smile widened. “Yes. I understand.”

“When?” Fred asked.

“Ummm...Tomorrow?” Ingrid said, keeping the fingers crossed.

“You just drive up there and stop at the offices and check in. I'll call them and tell them that you will be there and to have to place readied for you, ok?” Fred said. “Who's going with you? Emily?”

“What?” Ingrid said, trying to sound innocent.

Fred laughed. “It's ok. I figured it was her. Just be careful, ok.”

Ingrid shook her head. “Is there anything I can get past you?”

“Nope.” Fred said. “Remember that.”

“Thanks Uncle Fred, bye.” She said and hung up.

That last little exchange brought back something Uncle Fred had said right after Thanksgiving. He'd told her, well, had told Richard, that he'd found some things and if he wanted to talk about them. Ingrid was pretty sure that Fred knew about her and wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

She sighed, then lit a cigarette. She walked over and picked up the dress she'd picked out. It was a Dior Black sheath dress, very cute. She slipped into it and struggled with the zip. With the new breast forms, she could finally wear something with a slightly lower neck and not give away her secret. She posed in front of the mirror for a minute, then started digging for shoes. She picked out a pair of black Fendi Slingbacks. She put them on and the doorbell rang.

She rushed down the stairs and opened the door, striking a pose for Emily. “Hello, dear.” Ingrid said.

“Well, don't you look sexy.” Emily said, walking in. She gave her a hug. “I love the dress. And the hair.”

Ingrid took a drag off her cigarette. “Thank you. The hair is what I wanted to show you. It's a bump it. The pack came with two of them, you can borrow one if you want.”

“Cool. I saw the commercial for those. Are you sure I can borrow the extra one?.” Emily said. Ingrid nodded. “no problem.” She said. Emily dug in her purse and pulled out a cigarette. “So...What did your uncle say?”

The two of them went into the living room.

“He said...We can use the condo.” She said, then the two girls actually squealed with glee. Emily picked up Ingrid's lighter and lit her cigarette. Emily took a long drag and eyed Ingrid.

“Something different...Other than the hair.” Emily said.

Ingrid grinned at her, then straightened up and wiggled her chest at her.

“Oh, wow!” Emily said, leaning over. She reached out and touched the breast forms. “Those look so real.”

“I know!” Ingrid gushed. “I paid a lot for them, but they are so great.”

Emily looked at Ingrid, confusion obvious on her face. “Ok. How are you getting all this money? You are still sixteen, so you haven't gotten your trust fund yet...what gives?”

Ingrid grinned at her. “Oh, yeah...I didn't tell you. Well...I found this store in the city (Washington, DC) that buys used designer clothes. I went through all the stuff my Mom had...All the stuff that was too “old” looking for me, or was too fancy...Along with a few dozen pairs of shoes that were too small for me. Anyway, I took that stuff down there and sold it. Even at the percentage they paid, I made a killing. Now, I can start picking up stuff from this season.” Ingrid laughed. “I also found a place where I can sell my Dad's suits. I have an appointment there next week, actually.”

Emily frowned. “Are you sure you want to be selling their stuff?”

Ingrid sat down on the edge of the bed. “I'm just selling old clothes. I'm never going to need my dad's old suits, and my mom would totally understand selling her old clothes to get new ones.” She shrugged. “It's not like I'm pawning everything in the house. Hell, girl. They talked about doing an estate sale and getting rid of all this stuff...Luckily I talked them out of all that last year.”

Emily nodded, then looked her up and down. “Well..You are dressed to go out, but I'm only wearing this.” She gestured to the Jeans and Sweater she was wearing. “I'll go home and get changed, then we can go out and celebrate your new endowments.”

Ingrid grinned. “You could borrow something from me.” She took a drag off her cigarette, then rounded out her cherry on the ashtray. “You are a little shorter, but should be able to wear some of my dresses no problem.”

Emily's face lit up. “Are you sure?” Ingrid nodded enthusiastically, then stood up and took Emily's hand and led her upstairs.

The girls looked through the closet for about ten minutes, pulling out several dresses and holding them up to Emily. Then Emily tried on the best contenders. After three tries, she had a winner. She put on an Armani Collezioni wool crepe black dress. It was a cocktail length with a keyhole collar and showed off Emily's assets quite well. Emily twirled in front of the mirror, looking like Cinderella before the ball. “I love it.” She said, then gave Ingrid a big hug.

“Lets find you some shoes.” Ingrid said, then they started looking through the shoe shelves. A pair of Dolce and Gabbana black slingbacks fit the bill perfectly. Ingrid watched as Emily strutted around the bedroom, getting the feel for the slightly higher than she was used to heels. “Awesome.” Ingrid said, leaning back against the vanity, lighting a cigarette. Emily grinned at her then came over and joined her for a cigarette. “Make-up time.” Ingrid said, ushering her to the chair. “And hair.”

Emily looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing only eyeliner and lip gloss. “I'm not too great with make-up, Ingrid.” she said. “I don't wear much of it.”

Ingrid leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I'll do it. I've been practicing a lot. It's kind of my hobby. I think we need to do your hair first though, since that will probably take me longer.” She took one last drag then put out her cigarette.

Ingrid scooped up her brush and hairspray and started working on Emily's hair. Her long golden locks were in really good shape, clean and conditioned, so brushing them was like a dream. “Wow. With all your hair, I could go really high with this.” Ingrid said, marveling at all Emily's hair.

Emily smiled up at her. “Go for it.”

Ingrid worked furiously, combing and spraying. Teasing her hair like crazy. After about twenty minutes she was done. Emily's bangs were brushed slightly to the left. Her hair was teased up very high with a long tail hanging down the back. She looked like a Hollywood starlet ready for a night on the town.

“I love it.” Emily said, grinning ear to ear.

Then Ingrid started on her make up. She gave her some serious smoky cat's eyes, using browns and golds that really made Emily's eyes pop. Then a dark burgundy lipstick set it off beautifully.

“Tada” Ingrid said, stepping back to let Emily see. “You look beautiful.”

Emily couldn't believe it. “Wow.” she said standing up. “Thank you, Ingrid, this is incredible.” She preened in front of the mirror for a second then turned back to her. “Oh, we have to go out now.”

Ingrid laughed, then lit a congratulatory cigarette. She felt really good about the work she'd done. Emily looked absolutely glamorous. “Ok...Where are we going?” Ingrid asked.

“I dunno.” Emily said, looking at the clock. It was almost five now. “We could go shopping, then grab a bite to eat?”

Ingrid nodded. “Sounds good to me. I could handle a walk through Tyson's Galleria.”

Emily laughed. 'You do have expensive tastes.” she said. “You know...You caused a bit of a stir around Sacred Heart.”

Ingrid smiled. “What?” she said, incredulously.

“Yeah.” Emily said, grinning. “The other night when you had coffee with Bradley Worthington. A few of the girls met you there.”

Ingrid nodded. 'Yeah...Um, Britney, Carol and Sheila, right?” She said, tapping her cigarette on the ashtray. “They were ok, I guess.”

Emily laughed out loud. “They are the “It” girls at school. They were trying to figure out whether you were a model, or get this, royalty.”

Ingrid busted out laughing. “You're kidding!” she said.

“Nope. They came and talked to me about it, giving me the third degree. It's the most they've talked to me in five years.” She laughed as she talked, taking a few seconds to get the story out.

“So, what did you tell them?” Ingrid asked, leaning against the vanity.

“Well...I told them that you're a model.” Emily said, grinning evilly.

“You what?” Ingrid asked. “No way!”

Emily nodded. “It was the only thing they were going to believe. Look at the way you dress...The way you behave. You just scream “model”. “ she said.

“Well...I'm not a model.” Ingrid said. “And...Do I really?” She added, sounding puzzled.

“Good lord, girl.” Emily said. “You dress more chic than any sixteen year old I know...Except me, that is.” She said, then did a little spin. “Oh yeah.”

“I'm still not sure if I believe you. Maybe they were pulling your leg?” Ingrid said, then took a last drag from her cigarette before putting it out.

Emily just shook her head again. “They fully believe it. Hey...You want to mess with their heads? Please?” Emily said, her eyes wide with excitement.

“How?” Ingrid said, crossing her arms.

“Well...Sheila works at the Galleria in a little clothing boutique. We could run by there and say hello. I heard the other girls saying they were going to be stopping by there before closing so they could all go out afterwards. Whatcha think?” Emily asked.

“Sure. How will this mess with them?” Ingrid asked.

“Well, they will see how I'm dressed, and how you are dressed and be SOOOO jealous. It will just make me feel good to see it.” Emily said, grinning. “They are so...Mean Girls, at school.”

Ingrid laughed. “Ok. Deal.”

The girls grabbed their coats, Ingrid loaned Emily the Sophia coat, while she wore her Prada Puffer coat that had been such a hit with the girls the other night. They piled into Ingrid's Mercedes and headed out, listening to Blondie very loud on the radio.

It took about half an hour to get to Tyson's Galleria. The mall was packed, but this was Ingrid's favorite mall, so it was worth the trip. It hadn't really been Richard's favorite, but it had been her mother's, since Neiman Marcus was here. That was where Ingrid planned on visiting, to indulge a little of her newfound love of designer labels.

The girls got out of the car and headed in. Ingrid looked over at Emily and thought she looked very beautiful, and was walking like she knew it. Ingrid put on a good strut herself, and the girls turned a few heads as they walked inside. A guy in his mid twenties almost tripped over himself opening the door for them, much to the chagrin of his plainly dressed girlfriend. Ingrid could hardly suppress a giggle over that.

They walked through the mall, window shopping, as they made their way to Neiman Marcus. As soon as they were inside, they headed straight to the women's department. A sales woman was on them in a flash, noting their designer clothes and not marking them as idle gawkers.

“Hello ladies.” the woman said, smiling at them. “Can I help you with anything today.

Before Emily could say anything, Ingrid spoke up. “No. Thank you. I will call you if I need your service.” She said, playing up her accent a little more than normal.

The woman smiled, then nodded and took a step back. “Take your time.” The woman said, but didn't fade far, ready to respond quickly if called.

Emily followed Ingrid into the racks, then giggled quietly. “That's hilarious. I normally hate coming in here. The sales people either ignore you or watch you like a hawk. But she was almost...needy sounding with you.”

Ingrid smiled at her, then leaned in. “She recognized our clothes, Emm. She sees these labels all day, and can probably hardly afford any of them.” Ingrid grinned at her. “Our combined outfits, my dear, cost almost as much as a new Toyota Corrolla. Enjoy.” Ingrid giggled herself now.

They looked through the racks. Ingrid was drawn to the Prada section. I guess the apple doesn't fall that far from the tree, she thought. She found a dress she had to try on. She didn't call for the sales lady, she just turned and caught her eye, then raised her hand a little and the woman was coming. Emily thought this was really funny, and tried hard to suppress a laugh while she looked through the racks.

“I need to try this in a two please.” Ingrid said, not bothering to make eye contact with her again. The sales woman looked through the racks and came out with a size two. Ingrid took it and smiled. “Dressing room?” she said.

The woman led her to the dressing room. She put on the dress and thought it fit wonderfully. She twirled a little, then stepped out to see what Emily thought. “Emm. What do you think?” Ingrid said, striking a few poses in the mirror.

“That's great, Ingrid.” Emily said. “It suits you. Just your style.”

Ingrid nodded. “I think so.” She said.

“Yes. It is lovely on you, it hangs just right.” The sales woman said.

“Thank you, miss.” Ingrid said, giving her a smile. Then she headed into the dressing room. Ingrid looked at the price. It was pretty expensive, $750 dollars. She stood looking at the price tag, then shrugged. She changed back into her clothes and headed back out.

The sales woman was standing there waiting on her. Ingrid handed the dress to her. “I will take it.” she said, following the lady to the counter. Emily walked up behind her.

“Will you be using your store card, Mam?” The woman said, smiling.

“Cash.” Ingrid said, then pulled a stack of hundreds out of her wallet.

“Thank you.” Ingrid said, taking the bag. “Bye.” she waved and strutted off. Emily followed close behind, laughing .

“Wow.” Emily said. “That was cool."

They both laughed, then did some more shopping. At eight thirty five, laden down with bags, they headed up to Fashion Front, the store Sheila worked in. Both of them strutted in, totally working the designer heels. Sheila looked up and saw Ingrid and smiled. Then Emily stepped out from behind her and her smile dropped. You could almost see her calculating the outfit and trying to reconcile that with the Emily she knew.

“Hi.” Sheila said, shaking off the surprise. “How are you Ingrid? Emily?”

Ingrid was looking around. “Fine. How are you, Sheila?” This place sold trendy casual fashion. Lots of retro 80s designs from second rate designers. Ingrid wasn't interested.

“Good. See anything you like?” Sheila said, hoping for a sale.

Ingrid looked back at her and gave a smile. “Sorry. This is very nice...but, not. My style clothing.” she said, giving almost a pitying look.

“Right.” Sheila said, smiling. “I figured. That's a great outfit, Emily...Is that Armani?” Sheila whispered.

Emily nodded. “Yes. I'm glad you like it.”

Sheila nodded. “So what are y'all up to?”

“We just did a little shopping, now we're going for a bite to eat.” Emily said.

Britney and Carol walked in. Ingrid saw them and gave them a little smile.
Both girls looked stunned when they saw Ingrid and Emily. You could almost see them shrink in the presence of that glamour.

“HI Britney, Carol.” Emily said. “How are you?”

They both said hi and gave her little hugs, both still eyeing the ever glamorous Ingrid, and the suddenly glamorous Emily.

“We really must be going, Emm...I am famished.” Ingrid said, looking at her watch.

“Ok. Ciao girls.” Emily said. Ingrid hoisted her bags, gave them one last smile and out they went, leaving the girls staring.

Ingrid and Emily laughed all the way to the car. “Thank you, Ingrid. Those looks were priceless.” Emily said. “They were so jealous, you could feel it.”

Ingrid grinned. “It is funny. They have always been the cool ones, haven't they?”

Emily nodded then helped Ingrid put the bags in the back of the car. “Yeah, they spend a lot of their time bagging on people. You know, making fun of their clothes or their hair. They wear expensive, nice stuff you know, but nothing like this.” Emily said. “Its crazy. ”

Ingrid hopped in the drivers seat, then lit a cigarette. “I know. I never thought much of clothes, growing up. I thought this was just how women dressed. I realize that is very naive, but it's true.”

Emily lit her own cigarette and laughed. “Ingrid, darling. You were a sheltered child. But thank you. It was very nice to knock them down a peg or two.”

Ingrid nodded. “You are welcome, honey.” She said, laughing as they pulled out of the parking lot.

As they were driving, Emily looked over at Ingrid. “The way you dealt with that sales woman...Was that how your mother did it?” She asked, then flicked her ashes out the window.

“Yes.” Ingrid said laughing. “She always did it that way. Ignore them a little, give them the cold shoulder, then reel them in with a smile afterwards. It keeps them from fawning over you and makes them back off a little. yeah, it's a little bitchy. I know they don't like it, but it works.” Ingrid said with a shrug. “Now. I am starving.”

Emily giggled. “So, where to now?”

Ingrid looked at her watch. “Well, it's ten after nine. Friday night. What is there to do?” Ingrid shrugged. “I literally have no idea.”

Emily thought about it for a second. 'We could go down by the college...there are a bunch of cool little bars and restaurants...scope out the boys.”

Ingrid frowned. “Ok...maybe.”

“Oh, come on!!” Emily said. “Lets do it.”

Ingrid chewed on her lip for a second. “Ok.” She turned onto the interstate and headed towards the college.

Emily did a little happy dance in her seat. “Oh yeah!!!”

They both laughed as she gunned it towards the college.

They found a parking space on the street less than a block from the little restaurant. Ingrid checked her face in the mirror. She thought it still looked fine, but she touched up her lipstick anyway.

“Ready, girl?” Emily said.

Ingrid stared at herself for a second longer, trying to see Richard through the make-up. She could still see it, but apparently others couldn't.

“Ready.” She said, putting on the German accent. “Lets go.”

They walked down the sidewalk, their heels clacking loudly as they walked. It was pretty busy, lots of college students and hipsters out for a good time. The girls looked at each other, suppressing giggles at the stares (and comments) they were getting from the guys on the street.

Heaven was crowded, with people waiting to get in. Emily stopped and touched Ingrid on the arm. “Look at all the people, it's going to take us forever to get in here.” she whispered. “If they let us in at all.”

Ingrid looked down the line of people waiting, then at the bouncer. He was in his mid-20's, attractive and well muscled. She could tell he was scoping out the line, looking for people he would let in, and those he wouldn't. She turned to Emily.

“I have an idea.” Ingrid whispered. “You don't speak English, Ok?” Just stand there and look sexy and aloof, right?”

Emily looked puzzled. “Huh?”

Ingrid smiled. “I'm going to try and bluff us in there, ok? If it works, good...If it doesn't, then we leave in a huff.”

Emily nodded. Ingrid took a deep breath then lit a cigarette and started strutting towards the door. Emily followed a few steps behind her, using the same strut. The bouncer looked over at her, a slight look of confusion on his face. Ingrid stopped right in front of him, her hand on her hip, looking for all the world like she was expecting him to let her in right now.

The bouncer looked at her for a second. “Ummm, mam...”

She just looked at him. “Yes.” she said, putting the German accent on thick.

The bouncer looked her up and down, then looked Emily up and down.

“Are you on the guest list.” he said, picking up the clip board.

She just gave him a look that practically said “duh”.

He looked at her again, then smiled, putting the clip board back down on the podium.

“Of course, Miss??” he said, unclipping the red rope.

“Wolfe. Ingrid Wolfe.” She said, holding her hand out in the classic kiss my hand greeting.

He took it and actually kissed the back of her hand.

“Enchanted.” he said, then gestured them in.

Ingrid turned to Emily. “gekommen auf Emily, sind wir schlieáŸlich nach innen.”
 
To Be Continued...