But isn't surgery a drastic step? It would mean the end of John. . .

"You're a maid, Jacqui. You will find your social life among similarly placed people.

_______________________________________________________________

Saturday, Melissa helped me dress in a white, silky blouse and my light green summer suit. She stopped me from putting on my low-heeled white pumps though.

"Pick either your white platforms or the lace-up heels that you wear with your day uniforms, Jacqui."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because a girl looks sexier in high heels and because I told you to."

Here we go again, I thought. I knew that any time the First Girl told me to do something while we were working, there was no point in arguing. Both she and 'Ms. Martin' made it clear that I was expected to do what I'd been told. Why was she intruding into my private time as well? Did she want to prevent me from having a comfortable day without heels? I just didn't get her sometimes.

The problem was, Melissa had promised to punish me if I disobeyed. So far, I'd avoided any punishments, I didn’t want to learn if she really would punish me, or how she might carry that punishment out. I didn't fight with myself over it, selecting my lace-up heels as the least objectionable alternative.

I greeted Kurt with a curtsey and small kiss on his cheek when he got out of his car.

"Good morning, Kurt."

"Hello, Jacqui. You look nice this morning."

Kurt had his cute little Audi, which I knew was a hot machine, and, as low as it was to the ground, I was glad my skirt was almost knee length and not any longer. Getting in gracefully was difficult enough without that encumbrance.

Kurt asked about my week while we drove towards Manhattan. He asked more about me in general, repeating some of the questions I'd already answered: what were my likes and dislikes in food, my tastes in clothes, the things I watched on TV, my hobbies, etc. and seemed to take an interest in everything I told him.

"I know a really great sushi bar near here," he said after he'd parked and we walked, hand in hand, up Fifth Avenue. "We might have lunch there before going to the Met?"

"I've never eaten raw fish and seaweed before, but I'm willing to give it a try. So many people seem to think it's great," I said trying to sound as enthusiastic as I could. Then I had an idea. "You will order for me, won't you Kurt," I bubbled, looking up and tilting my head flirtatiously. I even added a hopeful smile.

He looked at me a little dubiously at first, trying to see if I was putting him on, but when I managed to hold my hopeful smile, even adding a few bats of my eyelashes, he laughed, patted my derriere and said, "Yes little one, of course I will. Kurt will take care of you, do not worry."

Of course, I followed all of Kurt's suggestions and the food was really scrumptious. Those tiny slivers of fish didn't have that much flavor, but he told me to pay attention to the various textures and subtle nuances of these little delicacies and I had a great time. Once we had finished and were sipping hot green tea, I broached the subject of cosmetic surgery.

"Thinking about it and looking at you, I do think surgery could make you look exquisite, Jacqui. And, if you want to keep your secret, surgery would definitely do the trick, but isn't surgery a drastic step? It would mean the end of John, wouldn't it? Are you sure you're ready for that? After the conversation with Carla, I was almost certain that John was not what I really wanted in my life.

We continued to discuss my options as we left the restaurant and walked along Fifth Avenue. Kurt had taken my hand when we'd left the restaurant and although I never thought of pulling away, it still took me a few minutes to begin to enjoy it. Before I could, I had to convince myself that no one would figure out I was really a guy. When I told Kurt of my fears, he just laughed gently.

"Jacqui, my dear, sweet, Fraeulein," he said, as if talking to a six-year old, "no one will figure out anything unless you decide to pull your skirt up and pee against a tree."

This made me giggle and Kurt laughed along with me. After that, I grabbed his arm and put it around my shoulder. I was feeling very affectionate towards Kurt and wanted to be close to him.

As we walked on, eventually sitting on one of the many benches along 5th Avenue, I recounted my conversation with Carla, and how I felt about it all. The longer we talked, the more convinced I became that John was in my past and that Jacqui was not just my present, but my future. Although I still wasn't a hundred per cent confident about my decision, I felt good about it and certainly wanted to explore my options.

Kurt was clearly excited by the idea that I wanted to be Jacqui and immediately offered to help. "I've a good friend who is one of the best plastic surgeons in the city. Should we find out if he'll see you to discuss it?" he asked. I said 'yes', but never expected that he'd take out his cell phone and do it right then.

We never went to the museum that afternoon. Instead we walked the seven blocks to his friend, Doctor Abraham Tobias' building then up two flights of stairs to his office. Doctor Tobias greeted us at the door.

"Come in, come in, my good friend." They hugged and kissed in the European fashion.

"Toby, this is the girl I told you about over the phone.

"Jacqui, you know I don't even know your last name? Jacqui, this is Abraham Tobias." The man was short, five foot three, if he stretched, and he appeared to be about seventy.

We went into a room that was more like a photography studio than any doctor's office I'd ever been in before. There, Dr. Tobias photographed my head from all conceivable angles and, once he finished with that, he asked me to remove my jacket and blouse so he could, ‘shoot’ my breasts.

Kurt hadn't yet seen them, although he had played with them, so I was only a little embarrassed to have him watch me undress. After all the pictures had been taken, Dr. Tobias took some blood and then asked me to meet him in his office once I was dressed. Several minutes later, I knocked gently on the open door and walked into his office, curtseying reflexively when they both looked up. That ended the quiet conversation they'd been having.

"The monitor on the left is the original you, Jacqui " Doctor Tobias began. "On the right one I'll manipulate the image so you can decide what you might like."

We played with the computer for an hour before I settled on what I thought was just enough of a change to my eyes, mouth and cheeks. A few more simple clicks and my breasts looked perfect to me.

"How much will all of this cost doctor?" I asked. He didn't answer me, instead he glanced over to Kurt.

"Do not concern yourself, my little maid. Let this be my gift of beauty to the world." Was he serious? I don't know what a Manhattan plastic surgeon charges for the procedures we had discussed, but guessed that they were well over twenty-five thousand dollars, if not twice that or more! There went my blackmail hold on Kurt.

"Tell me, Toby," he said with a big smile, "are gifts of art tax deductible?" I giggled as they had a good laugh.

"Being as it is Saturday, Kurt, I'll have to wait until Monday to see when a bed and the OR will be available. I'll call you," the doctor said.

"How long will I have to stay in the hospital?" I asked.

"Two or three days, Jacqui." Doctor Tobias explained, "I like to perform surgery early in the morning then you will need to recover from the anesthesia. I'd like you to stay that night, at least, to assure that there are no complications."

Kurt took me shopping along Fifth Avenue, but I was so focused on the possibility of plastic surgery, being both thrilled and terrified, that my heart wasn't in it and I didn't find anything I wanted. I even tried on a few slinky cocktail dresses at a fabulous boutique, but Kurt too agreed they really weren't me when I modeled them for him. He did however, insist that I buy a pair of shoes that better matched my suit, so I ended up with an elegant pair of green pumps with only a three-inch heel. After all the time I'd spent in my heels, the lower heels alone would have made the ridiculously expensive price worth it.

"I know!" he exclaimed, once we were back on the street. "We will drive down to Chinatown, Jacqui. Perhaps we'll find something interesting in the shops there." We did. Despite being distracted, I fell in love with several cheongsams and three blouses, also in a Chinese style. Kurt insisted on buying all of them for me and convinced me to change into a jade green one that looked like it had been designed specifically for my shoes. All of the Chinese shopkeepers treated me like royalty, but it was in the restaurant he selected where all of the help acted as if I was the Empress of All China. With them behaving toward me in the manner they did, I really began to look forward to my new face.

I was actually rather disappointed when we arrived in my driveway; I would have preferred to spend more time with Kurt. The worst part was that his car was so small, I couldn't quite imagine how we would find a way to turn to kiss each other. But I did want to kiss him, first to say thank you, he had treated me today like I was the most important person he had ever met, but I wanted to see if I could do it, if I could enjoy it.

Throwing caution to the winds, I finally got up on my knees and leaned over the center console, essentially falling onto him, holding my arms around his neck while we kissed and fondled each other. This time I didn't hesitate at all to kiss him and I opened my mouth hungrily to let him in.

Even with that aggressive start on my part, John managed to break into my thoughts and it took me a little time to bury my fears and get rid of that annoying little fellow, who was obviously rather appalled by what he was involved in. As I concentrated on Kurt's lips, running my hands through his thick hair and twisting my tongue with his, John just disappeared. I didn't notice when it happened, but only realized he had left when we came up for air at one point.

Somehow, I had ended up in Kurt's lap, squashed between him and the steering wheel, my back against the driver-side door. As I lay there in Kurt's strong arms, catching my breath and just feeling dreamy, I all of a sudden realized that John was no where to be found. There was just me, Jacqui, kissing a man who I happened to adore, although for the life of me, I couldn't figure out where that feeling was coming from. I had never felt like that towards anyone before.

When he let me in the door, about thirty minutes after we had pulled into the driveway, and just before we became paralyzed by the awkward postures we had been forced to endure, I was more convinced than ever that I was Jacqui. So just before he shut the door, I said to him, "Bring a bigger car next time." Somehow, without even thinking about it, I winked! Kurt laughed, obviously tickled by my flirtatious behavior, while I stood there with my hand over my mouth, surprised as hell.

*****

"Jacqui, it's for you," Melissa called after answering the phone a few weeks after our date. She covered the mouthpiece before handing it to me. "It's your boyfriend."

Boyfriend indeed! Kurt and I had seen each other several more times over the last couple of weeks and I enjoyed each date more than the last. It wasn't just that I had gotten to get out of the house, or that I had my own man, which I know really annoyed Carla, but I had grown increasingly fond of Kurt. In fact, it was fair to say that I had a crush on him; a very serious case of infatuation, at least. I was surprised to see I could feel such emotions. I almost ran to get the phone from Melissa.

"Hello, Kurt. How are you this morning?" I said in my most flirty way.

"Ach, I have most unpleasant news of my uncle, Jacqui. So much is happening too fast. I must go to Germany; he is dying."

I was horrified; Kurt was going away? I couldn't say that. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear about your uncle, Kurt. When are you going?" Will I get to see you before you leave?" I hoped that wasn't too forward, but I couldn't stop myself from saying it.

"Ach, I'm sorry, liebling, I must leave today."

I selfishly thought of our date on Friday, but I at least managed not to mention this to him.

"Toby called," he said, "Doctor Tobias. His surgery for tomorrow was canceled. Pack a small bag and Henry will take you to the hospital. Be ready at three o'clock."

"But..." Kurt interrupted me.

"I have already discussed the matter with Carla. You are to go to the hospital and even though there will only be a few minor modifications to your face, you will be a very pretty China Doll indeed when I return."

"When will that be, Kurt?"

"I do not know. I will telephone you. I'm in a terrible hurry. I must leave now or I will miss my departure. Good-bye, Jacqui. I will miss you terribly."

"I'll miss you too, Kurt."

"Bye, bye Fraeulein Jacqui. When I see you next, you will be gorgeous." Kurt hung up before I could say anything more.

"What's the matter?" Melissa asked when I replaced the phone. I explained it to her and started to go to our quarters.

"You don't seem very happy. I thought you wanted the face change so no one recognized you again?"

"I do," I confirmed. "Kurt promised to talk with Ca… umm, Ms. Martin and get the key so I didn't have to be embarrassed by the nurses seeing that I'm wearing this damn steel belt. He promised to be there too! I said resentfully. "And what am I going to do about my corset?" Melissa had no better solutions to these problems than I did.

After packing a bag for the few days I'd be in the hospital, I resumed my chores to help divert my attention and not think about what was going to happen.

I'd changed into a white cheongsam and seeing the Rolls pull up by the garage, I went to Melissa to tell her I was leaving.

"Everything will be just fine. I'm sure," she said, giving me a lingering kiss on the lips. Since I had started seeing Kurt, we hadn't been spending as much time in bed together as in the past. "I'm sure you will come out gorgeous. I'll probably be jealous." She gave me a very endearing smile.

"I wish I felt the same," I replied. "I wish Carla was here." I was scared and dispirited. I couldn't believe no one would be with me at the hospital. I started to get butterflies in my stomach, but I managed a wan smile. "I guess I'll see you in a couple of days. I'll call if that changes, Melissa." We hugged and kissed goodbye.

"Hello, Henry." I curtseyed as artfully as I could to his bow, tilting my head a little and smiling up at him flirtatiously. "Oh! You brought the Rolls, you are a sweetheart." I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. I had become rather fond of Henry over the last few weeks. He was a perfect gentleman and genuinely seemed to like me, perhaps because I had brought some joy back into Kurt's life. I didn't know what he knew about my sexuality.

"Good afternoon, Jacqui." He took my small bag with a slight blush then opened the back door for me with a flourish, flashing me a big smile in return for my kiss. I was seated in back of the large Rolls. It would have been much nicer to sit in front with Henry just to have someone to talk to during the ride, but that wasn't an option because this antique didn't even have another seat up front, just a space for baggage that wouldn't fit in the ‘boot’.

At least Henry came inside the hospital with me and carried my bag. He stayed with me until I was in the private room Kurt had reserved for my stay. Knowing I wouldn't have to deal with a roommate brightened my mood considerably.

"Will there be anything else I can do for you, Jacqui?" I wrinkled my lip before daring to ask. I needed help from someone and at least Henry wasn't a complete stranger.

"Would it be too much to ask you to loosen my corset it so I'll be able to take it off prior to my operation, please?"

"No, not at all." Henry had the aplomb of a classic English butler. "If you like, I'll take it off entirely."

"Oh, no thank you Henry, I prefer to wear it."

He gave me a quizzical look, so I said, "Really, I do. At first, I hated it, then I liked the way it made me look, and then I started to find its feel comforting. Now, I'm afraid I'd collapse like a jelly fish if I took it off entirely," I giggled.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, but his calm expression didn't change, not even when my breasts and chastity belt were exposed after he'd opened the frogs down the right side of my dress. I stood still, while he undid the knots then started to loosen the laces.

"Let them out about two inches, please? Try to keep an even gap from top to bottom," I asked. With the corset that loose, I'd be able to remove it easily the next morning.

"Thank you, Henry. I greatly appreciate your help."

"It was my pleasure to assist. Will there be anything else?"

"No, I can manage. Thank you." I curtseyed.

"I shall see you tomorrow then." He bowed.

"Tomorrow?" I didn't understand.

"Mr. Mark has requested that I assure that all is satisfactory and to see to any of your needs during your stay here."

That was a pleasant surprise. I gave him my biggest smile.

"This is my cell phone number. Please call at any time if there is anything you wish, Jacqui." I took the card from him. I'd never before encountered a driver who had a business card. "I will be nearby," he said as I examined it. Once I looked back at him, Henry bowed to me and left the room.

It was so thoughtful of Kurt to do that for me. Despite the way he had forced me to date him originally, he really was a dear man and had never once taken advantage of me or acted in any way that would lead me to think he wasn't a perfect gentleman. I giggled to myself as I realized he was every T-girl's dream date: handsome, well-mannered and commandingly male. He filled the role of a man so perfectly, it was impossible not to be a woman with him.

I flushed slightly when I realized that he didn't actually make me feel like a woman. He made me feel like a schoolgirl with her first ever crush. Being with Kurt was feminizing me faster than anything Carla had even dreamed of. If she had understood his power, she probably would have thrown me at him the first day I had become her maid.

Yes, with Kurt I was a girl. I didn't just look like one, I was one, responding to his male strength with female acquiescence. It was more than just that though. Kurt allowed me to have the power of a woman, the kind that doesn't depend on physical strength or overt demonstrations of macho confidence. Kurt responded to my affection and my silly flirting and my needs as if I were a valuable person and not just a possession or ornament. I just loved the way it made me feel. I loved the way he made me feel, and I loved him for making me feel that way.

I could only laugh at myself and shake my head ruefully as I recalled my previous fear of dating men. The very thought of it had repulsed me, and I had been just positive that it would be horrible. Now I knew I'd been totally wrong. Dating Kurt was fun, and I had really come to enjoy the intimacies we shared. Being kissed and caressed by Kurt excited me, and I just adored being held in his strong arms as I snuggled up against his broad chest. Did this make me gay? Had that been why I was so homophobic, because I knew that all along? Or, was I just behaving like a normal girl?

I was watching the news after supper when Doctor Tobias came in.

"How are you feeling, Jacqui?" he asked.

"Nervous, but otherwise I'm just fine."

"Please open your nightshirt for me and lie on your back," Doctor Tobias asked.

He frowned with disapproval when he saw my chastity belt. I don't think he liked the corset either.

"I won't be wearing my corset in the morning," I offered, to ease what I imagined was his concern.

"I would have insisted," he replied, smiling, while his soft hands examined my breasts in detail before wandering all over my face, exploring every millimeter with great care. Once he had finished his examination, he explained what I should expect when I awoke.

"Your breasts will be sore and probably feel hot. Your face will be very sore and probably itch terribly. Of course, there will be dressings covering the incisions and your head will be tightly bandaged for the first couple of days to minimize the swelling, Jacqui. I want you to avoid scratching or rubbing. If you can't do that, I'm afraid you'll have to be restrained to keep you from hurting yourself.

As I’ll be altering your eyes, the bandages are going to cover them too. You won't be able to see until it's safe to remove those bandages.

"We will change your dressings as needed, and then once more before you leave. I want them to stay on until I see you in my office a week from Monday. When they are removed," he smiled, "you'll think that I am not Doctor Tobias, but that my name is really Dr. Frankenstein.

"There will be much bruising and many hematomas and you are going to look awful. It will be several weeks before you see how really beautiful you are, Jacqui."

"Pretty bad, huh?" I joked and forced a smile.

"Yes," he honestly admitted.

"Now I want you to sleep. I'll have the nurse give you something." He closed my nightie and I started to button it.

"Use the toilet and be in bed when she comes.

"I'll see you tomorrow right before we start." He moved to the door, smiled at me and left.

Whatever the little pill was the nurse gave me, it was fast and effective. Early in the morning, I was awakened by another nurse.

"Please get undressed and put this on, honey." There was no warmth in her demeanor. She was all business. "I'll be back in five minutes and do not drink anything, not even a sip of water.

"Swallow this, it's an antibiotic," she offered me a small pill and a tiny amount of water. "Hop up here, hon," she said, slapping the top of the gurney that two sleepy looking men pushed into my room. As I climbed on, the sheet covering me slipped. There was no hiding my chastity belt.

They didn't attempt to conceal their amusement over my predicament. "Well, look at you," one laughed. "Your man lock that on you?"

"Keep her from fuckin' around," offered the other. "He sure knows how to keep her under control." The nurse shushed them instantly and I scrambled up on the stretcher, where she hurriedly covered me with a sheet. Still, I felt embarrassed all the way into the operating room.

No one had warned me how very cold I'd be and how terribly dry my mouth would feel as I gradually awoke. I also hadn't been told that there would be a tube down my throat and that I'd have one up each nostril as well. I sensed that I still had an IV in my arm.

I was very sore, I burned and I itched something awfully. It took all of my will power not to rub my breasts and face.

"Good, you're awake," the nurse said. "No, don't even try to speak. Everything went well. Your doctor is very pleased. Unable to see, I hadn't realized that anyone was nearby.

A while later, I don't really know how long, she said, "Want to go to your room?" Not even waiting for an answer, she wheeled me back and along with another nurse helped me into bed.

Thankfully, the injection the nurse gave me as soon as I was settled made me sleep and I awoke only the following morning, I guessed. At least I was no longer cold, but was still extremely thirsty and sore. Fighting not to scratch, I just lay still and tried to think of happy thoughts.

Doctor Tobias finally came in several hours later.

"Feeling OK, Jacqui?" He greeted me warmly, but what a stupid question! I shook my head 'no!'

"Well, perhaps I can make you more comfortable. We will change some of your bandages and have a look at how things are going." I nodded my understanding. There were burning sensations emanating throughout my breasts even though they remained covered by supporting bandages. I already knew the actual incisions were in my armpits and Dr. Tobias examined them gingerly.

"So far, so good, Jacqui." He then carefully undid a few of the bandages covering my head and face.

"I'm going to give you a mild muscle relaxant to reduce your gag reflex." A small syringe pricked my neck. "Give that a couple of minutes, Jacqui, then I'll remove the tubes.

"This is very important. You are not to even try to talk for at least the next ten days so that you can heal properly." What? Why not? He answered my unspoken questions. "We performed the Crico-Thyroid Approximation or CTA you requested.

CTA? What was he talking about? I knew it is one of the more common 'voice surgeries', but I sure as hell hadn't requested it.

"It will raise your voice to a higher register. Just how high varies widely among those who have had it done." I shocked with disbelief. I hadn't even discussed it with anyone. What else had been done while I was on the table? A knot formed in my stomach and a chill ran up my spine as I became fearful of what might have happened.

"Hold still and hold your breath for a moment."

I frantically motioned that I wanted something to write with. Once he'd placed a pen and small pad in my hands, I scribbled a question, even though I couldn't see what I was writing. 'Why did you change my voice?' I wrote. He read it.

"I know you and I didn't discuss it, Jacqui, but I have the signed forms right here in your chart."

I just shook my head; had no recollection of ever having signed any form.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm sure you're confused because of all the medications. Besides, you're going to love the outcome." He patted my head and left. I spent the rest of the day dozing and trying not to scratch myself.

Dr. Tobias again checked on me the next morning and told me things were going really well. I just lay in bed, trying not to be too scared.

When I awoke from my nap the following afternoon, I was startled to hear Melissa's voice in my room.

"Ready to go?" she asked, as soon as she saw I was awake. "Dr. Frankenstein said you may leave."

It didn't really matter what I thought, because Melissa had already organized everything and had me out of that hospital before I knew what had hit me. Once we were in the car, she placed some pills in my mouth and pressed a cup to my lips. "Here, take these. They'll make the ride more comfortable."

I was scared to death when I woke up in another hospital room, my groin a mass of pain. This time I was restrained, but there was a button next to my hand and I pushed it immediately. Thankfully, the bandages, which had blindfolded me, had been removed and I could see again. A smiling nurse showed up a few moments later and said, "Oh hi, sugar, you're awake. Good, now I can untie you."

I had a million questions, but had to wait for her to finish all her ministrations before I could get a pad to write with. 'Where am I? What happened? Why does my groin hurt?' I wrote.

"They told me you'd be confused," she said, "But don't worry; you're in the Sisters of Tiresias clinic and you have just gotten the most beautiful new pussy." She just beamed at me like she was sharing a great joy.

"What?" I squeaked out, despite the pain in my throat.

"Don't talk, sugar," she ordered, becoming alarmed. "Once all the meds wear off, you'll remember everything, I'm sure, and just be thrilled." She fumbled by the bedside and handed me a button.

"Here," she said, "this is for pain. Just press it like this every time you start to hurt." She gave it two presses and, a few moments, later I started to feel much more relaxed. I was still confused, but it didn't seem so important somehow.

Still, my mind was in turmoil. This had to be a bad dream. I couldn't have had SRS! I had never wanted it. I never asked for it! Hell, I had never even discussed it with anyone. What was going on here? I had gone into the hospital to have a few minor cosmetic changes and now it seemed my entire life had been turned upside down, or, I thought in a brief moment of clarity, inside out. It was like someone else was in control, only I didn't know who. I didn't want to think about it anymore. I pressed the button a half dozen times. Before too long, I fell into a fitful sleep.

The next few days were just horrible. I was in a lot of pain. It seemed to be everywhere, but the worst was in my throat and groin. The nurses and doctors seemed hell bent on making it still worse by constantly examining me and probing my new vagina and changing whatever it had been stuffed in it. The feeling of having someone's fingers inside me was completely bizarre and totally unwelcome, even as the pain started to diminish. The worst part was when they put what they called a stent in my new vagina to keep it open. When they told me I would be doing this every day for a long time to come, I burst into tears.

"Don't worry, honey," the nurse said, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It won't always hurt like this. The pain will be gone in a week or two, and then you'll probably really enjoy it. And once a man gets a nice hard penis in there, you'll really love the whole thing."

I must've looked at her as if I was about to me executed because she got a very concerned look on her face. She went to the phone and called the doctor.

"I don't know what's going on here, Dr. Byers. She acts like this is the worst thing that ever happened to her. I've never seen anyone respond so badly before. I'm sure it's making the pain worse and slowing her healing."

She listened for a while then said, "Okay, but I'm still worried. We haven't been able to get her out of bed yet." After another pause, she said, "Yes, I will.

"Honey, I don't know why you're so upset, unless it's just the pain, but we have to get you out of bed, maybe a shower will cheer you up."

With the help of another nurse, she dragged me out of bed and into the shower. Thank goodness, I was able to sit. Although the lack of anything hanging down between my legs was most unsettling, the warm water did feel wonderful and it was great to wash my hair, but my face and what now felt like gigantic breasts were still very sore. The entrance to the gaping hole between my legs was, red, swollen and angry looking. Despite how it looked and felt, they made me wash it out with some kind of antiseptic cleanser. Washing, I noticed that I'd no sutures in my flesh. I hadn't even noticed when they had been removed.

Each day brought new insults and humiliations. First, a nurse pulled the catheter from my bladder and I had to pee through the new hole near my vagina. It hurt like hell and felt completely strange because the urine no longer flowed through the length of penis, but exited instead well before it got there. I knew there would be some relearning to do if I was to keep from peeing in my panties. Not only that, but my bladder seemed to have shrunk and I had to go often. When I complained about how often I had to pee, the nurse told me to get rid of my IV, although that meant getting rid of my friend the button as well. The IV had to drip constantly to allow the morphine to run into my vein when I pressed the button. That's why I had to pee so often. I decided that I wasn't ready to give up my drug, so I shook my head no.

Next, they insisted I start moving my bowels and started me off with an enema. I discovered that even the smallest amount of squeezing caused lots of pain in my groin and I sat on the toilet groaning as my bowels evacuated.

"That will become a lot easier dear," the nurse said, "if you give up the morphine. It makes you constipated."

During my stay, hygiene was continually stressed, especially whenever I used the toilet. No longer would I be able to get by with a quick wipe, but I had to wash with antiseptic soap and be sure to pat myself completely dry.

I was constantly aware that I no longer had a penis or testicles. Had I forgotten I would have been quickly reminded because I had to wash my vagina and use the stent to dilate myself four times a day. Then I had to douche with an antiseptic to completely wash out all traces of the lubricant I'd used. Unless I wanted to learn about what happened in an emergency room by ending up there with a bad infection, there was simply no way I could avoid dealing with my new pussy. The threat of severe infection was beat into me at every opportunity, which left me confused and depressed.

I spent the rest of my time mostly crying and pressing the button. I was too stunned to understand what had happened and all I wanted was to not think about it. I dreamed of my penis and of having it cut off. I awoke from my bizarre dreams in a panic several times a night, reaching immediately for my button to put myself out again.

The hospital staff was confused by my strange behavior. Most of the girls who came in for surgery were absolutely delighted with the outcome, were quite cheerful and did everything they could to hasten their own recovery. Occasionally, some would react badly to surgery, but that would clear up after a few days at most, and they would always leave delighted to finally be ‘fully a woman'.

I was the first in their experience who didn't come out of it, instead remaining depressed and sullen. They didn't seem all that put out by this and simply treated me as if I was some kind of mentally defective child, who needed to be pushed along on a journey she had no control over anyway.

On the fourth or fifth day, I'm not really sure which, Carla showed up. I awoke to see her sitting in a chair by the end of the bed, looking at me with a strange expression on her face.

"What happened to me?" I squeaked out.

"Don't talk!" she ordered. "You could hurt your throat and never be able to talk again."

I looked at her with pleading eyes. Tears started to run from the corners, yet again. After a few moments, she got up and closed the door. She settled herself carefully back in her seat and pulled out a folder full of papers.

"There's no point beating around the bush, Jacqui. John's gone. Very soon, we'll be divorced and I'll own the company. Given the way you're behaving, I'll soon be able to have you declared mentally incompetent then you won't have any possibility of earning a living except as my maid. Welcome to your new life," she said with a satisfied sneer. "The sooner you accept it, the better off you'll be."

I was dumbstruck. Wasn't this my wife, Carla, sitting across from me? Didn't she love me? How could she do this? She wouldn't! She couldn't! As my mind whirled around in chaos, I started to get nauseous. I only barely managed not to throw up. I pressed the button, again and again. I started to feel more relaxed, but I was still very confused.

"I'd like to see your pussy," Carla said suddenly, bringing me back to the real world. "It cost me a lot of money you know."

She approached the bed and pulled my sheet back, but I was having none of it and started to struggle with her. She quickly called the nurse and they held me down then gave me a shot of something that put me out.

When I awoke, I was restrained. I panicked. I couldn't tell if the scene with Carla had been real or not and my thoughts were muddled and cloudy. I pushed the nurse's call button. The nurse who came into the room frowned at me. I looked up at her, pleading with my eyes to have my hands untied. She obviously understood, but shook her head no.

"I'm sorry, dearie, doctor's orders. Ms. Martin was very upset when you attacked her, especially after she's been so supportive of your needs over the past few years of your transition. All of you transsexuals are so damned self-centered. It's always me, me, me! Well, she gave you what you wanted, she even paid for it, and you turn on her? We'll have to treat you as the selfish bitch you obviously are until you learn some manners. You'll stay restrained until you learn to behave."

I thrashed around, trying to get free. I wanted to shout, but was afraid to use my voice. Every time I had, it had hurt and was so high and squeaky, that I was afraid to say anything else lest it stay that way. I didn't know what was happening to me and I was scared and panicky.

"I warned you," the nurse said and she produced a syringe and injected something into my IV. It calmed me down, very quickly, but it made me feel awful and I couldn't think straight. I had no choice, but to lie there, doped up and confused.

This went on for three or four more days. Every time I woke up, I started to freak out. Now, I couldn't stop myself from calling out, but my voice was ridiculous; I sounded like Minnie Mouse. I was scared, angry, and inconsolable. As a result, I was restrained all the time and almost constantly sedated. My care was forced on me. People worked on my face and inside my groin, cleaning things, dilating and douching me, jobs I should have been doing myself.

In the meantime, my face was healing and my breasts were becoming less and less sore. It turned out that I had been asleep for several days after I had been castrated, that's the only way I could think of it. During that time, Dr. Tobias had come by to remove most of the stitches during one of the periods I was out of it. I didn't know or care. I was literally hysterical, so distraught, I couldn't control myself, and so drugged up, I couldn't think straight.

Finally, they brought in a psychiatrist. He was very calming and reassuring. After spending a lot of time with me over the course of several days, he told me that if I could stay calm, he would stop the sedatives and get me untied. I agreed and the next day the leather restraints were removed and my mind was as clear as it had been since I first awoke after my plastic surgery.

I was finally allowed to speak; it had been over two weeks since Dr. Tobias had operated on me, and twelve days since I had been castrated. I was utterly appalled by my voice. I still sounded high and squeaky, like a ridiculous little girl who had inhaled helium. I just had to talk with the psychiatrist to find out what had happened.

I was very nearly inconsolable as I told him that I had never wanted to become a woman, never done a real life test and never agreed to voice surgery or the SRS. He shook his head sadly.

"You know Jacqui, people sometimes freak out in hospitals. They become psychotic after awakening from surgery. You obviously wanted all these things because it's all written down and everyone I've talked to tells me how desperate you were to get it done. Now it's my job to get you re-anchored in reality so you can get on with your life. Here look at this."

He handed me the folder Carla had with her when I had seen her all those many days ago. "Read through this Jacqui and try to remember. I'll see you tomorrow."

The folder held the story of my betrayal. It began with the true records of my adolescent years, when my parents had put me into therapy to stop my constant cross-dressing. Those records detailed my belief that I was really a girl in a boy's body and contained my admission that I had put myself on hormones to grow breasts. How had Carla gotten them? Even my parents never learned all this.

What followed was really chilling though. My files continued with a comprehensive record of many more years of therapy that had never existed. My new therapist's notes contained my eventual decision to change genders and the ups and downs (but mostly ups), of my real life test, during which I lived full time to prepare for my final transition. I was stunned to see affidavits apparently from Toni Bauer, my former secretary, attesting to three trips we made together, during which I had lived as a woman. During our last trip, three weeks skiing in Colorado, she reported that I had hooked up with a man and spent almost every night with him, coming back 'bleary-eyed, glowing, and cooing over his prowess in bed'. Toni also noted that I had become increasingly passive as time went on and eventually had turned over to her all responsibility for everything we did.

There were even records of many dozens of therapy sessions that Carla and I had attended together as we attempted to work out a new relationship while I went through my transition. These discussed in detail my submissive nature, why I believed I needed to be in a protected environment, perhaps as a housewife, and how crucial it was for me to avoid situations that would force me to make complex decisions or give orders to other people. I even claimed to have deep-seated sexual fantasies about being a secretary or maid. According to this set of notes, I begged Carla to take care of me.

We also explored my obsession with Asian women and why I craved looking like one. Part of my obsession, according to these notes, was to reclaim my lost heritage and part was to make visual my intensely submissive nature. According to these made-up records, Carla at first resisted all these changes, but, because of her deep love for me, she eventually agreed to keep me as her stay-at-home, wife, and eventually she acquiesced to having me live in her house as her Chinese maid. I was so grateful, I promised her my "everlasting devotion". This was obscene. Carla was out of her mind.

Worst of all, were the forms that signed my share of the business over to Carla and the three-year contract we'd signed for my services as a maid in her house. These had been prepared by my good, 'friend' and attorney, Jeff Parker. He did at least leave me with my current assets, although they had been placed in a trust that wouldn't be available to me until I was fifty.

All the appropriate signed permission forms for surgery were there as well, countersigned by all my therapists and doctors and witnessed by their nurses.

When I finished reading, I curled up into the fetal position and wept. I felt totally hopeless. I had been trapped into a life that wasn't mine, and I had no way to prove that I hadn't been involved in any of this, at least while I was still in the hospital and under Carla's control.

When the psychiatrist returned the next day, I had no fight left in me. Plus, I had realized that my only hope of regaining any of my life was to start behaving the way people expected me to. The very first thing I had to do was get out of the hospital. When he asked me how I was doing, I said, "Much better, thanks. Things seem so much clearer now."

"I'm glad," he said, with real warmth in his voice. "You're a simply beautiful young woman and I would hate to see you hospitalized in a psychiatric ward because you can't remember who you are and what you wanted. You've just gotten your fondest wish and should be full of joy. Or at least you should be full of joy once the pain goes away." He gave me a rather endearing grin.

We chatted for a while about my health needs and when he was satisfied, that I actually was stable, he patted me on the arm, removed the restraints, which were still hanging from my bed, threw them in the garbage, and said, "We won't need these anymore, I'm sure. I can also tell you for sure that the staff will be so relieved that your recovery is back on track. Everyone had been worried sick about you." With that, he left the room.

I cried again, this time because I was so grateful to everyone for taking such good care of me despite my horrible behavior. I vowed to do everything I could to heal quickly. I really wanted to repay their kindness and that was the best way I could think of to do that.

Not long after, a nurse came in and asked, "Are you ready to learn how to take care of yourself, Jacqui?" I simply nodded and paid close attention as she showed me what I had to do. One thing I was sure of, if I had to live as a woman, I was going to take proper care of my body. With the help of the nurse, I examined my new self for the first time and she showed me how to clean myself and dilate my new vagina.

After she left, I curled up in the bed and cried silently until I fell asleep. I didn't recognize myself. I no longer knew who I was.

When I awoke, I spent the rest of the day studying the documents the psychiatrist had given me, trying to understand how they had been created and how my signature had gotten on them. I was completely confused. The only thing that made sense was that Carla had forged everything, but it was beyond me how she had gotten so many people involved in her plot.

Dr. Tobias visited the next day and pronounced himself very pleased with his work. The swelling in my face was now mostly gone and even though I still had the remnants of two big black eyes, it was easy to see that I had a gorgeous, though thoroughly oriental face.

My lips were much fuller and the corners of my mouth had been brought closer together. My lips now hung in an absolutely disarming pout. It was easy enough to close my lips to make it disappear, but when I stopped willing them closed, they sprang apart again. On top of everything else, I would now look innocently sexy whether I wanted to or not.

My nose seemed flatter and turned up at its end so my nostrils were somewhat exposed. Below my now slanted, almond-shaped eyes, with the stereotypical epicanthic folds on their lids, my cheeks were higher. I certainly didn't see any trace of John in this face, nor much of a resemblance to the former Jacqui. Not only had my sex just been changed, but my race had changed as well!

As Dr. Tobias gently explored my breasts, I asked him when the swelling would go down.

"Go down?" he asked, surprised at my question. "Oh no, my dear, this isn't swelling, these beautiful breasts are all yours and will still get somewhat larger as your hormone therapy is accelerated. You will be a very ample D-cup before you are done. Quite spectacular, I would say. Do you see how they curve gently as they sweep down from your shoulders before bulging out slightly at the bottom, with just a touch of sag? My dear, these are exquisitely beautiful breasts and no one will ever be able to tell they aren't all you." He helped me to lie back then said, "See how they flatten naturally when you lie down? My dear, I am a genius at placing implants and you got some of my best work."

He was beaming as he said this, obviously very pleased with himself. As I considered what he said, I actually started to feel a little proud of myself, a welcome change from all the feelings shame that had overwhelmed me since I first awoke from surgery.

As I sat back up and hefted my breasts reconsidering them in the light of Dr. Tobias' description, I realized that he was right. These breasts didn't stand straight out from my chest, like the pasted-on half-oranges and grapefruits you see after so many implant surgeries. Even though they were much bigger than anything I had ever anticipated, or seen up close for that matter, they were indeed attractive. They were of Playmate quality, at least, I decided. Right then, I realized that real girls don't get to select their breast size and neither had I. I had carried the small breasts of an adolescent with me for nearly a decade. Now, I had the gorgeous tits of a full-grown adult woman.

"But, you'll have to be careful," he went on, interrupting the most pleasant thoughts I'd had since my surgery. "If you don't want them to get even bigger, you can't gain any weight. You'll deposit fat in your breasts very easily."

"And my voice?" I squeaked out. I was embarrassed by the sound I made, but so shocked by what I had just learned about my breasts, that I couldn't care how I sounded. "Will that get higher too?"

"Oh no, Jacqui, we'll have to see where it ends up. It's very hard to tell with this kind of surgery, but I'm sure that with time and some practice you can bring it down quite a bit. The vocal chords are always tightest right after surgery. I guess your current sound isn't ideal, but it does go well with your look."

"One thing though," he said, his eyes sparkling as he turned to me, "I don't think you'll be able to scare anybody. You just look too adorable and sound too cute." He chuckled again, lightly patting my cheek. I frowned, but I couldn't not like him. It seemed obvious to me that he hadn't been part of any plot to change me against my will.

That was it. I was to be an adorable, busty China Doll with a silly voice. A sob caught in my throat as I imagined that. If Carla had her way, I'd be her maid for good. How would I get out of this?

When I finally got home, four days later, Melissa helped me up to my room and ordered me to dress in my afternoon uniform. "Ms. Martin is waiting for you in the sitting room," she said, "so don't dawdle."

When I got to the door of the sitting room, I saw Carla standing by the window, gazing out into the garden. I knocked on the doorframe and entered the room as she turned to face me.

"Ah, Jacqui, there you are," she said, looking me over. "Come in and sit down." She pointed to a chair and as I crossed the room toward it, she continued, "I'd like to have a brief chat with you. Please feel free to call me Carla."

I sat, straightening my skirts and curling my feet to the side and under me. When I had folded my hands in my lap and finally looked back up at her, I could see her studying me closely.

"So Jacqui," she began, "I hope you are feeling better and are ready to care for yourself properly. Your surgery was very expensive and I would hate to think that you won't have a simply gorgeous and fully functional pussy when it finally heals."

I nodded my acquiescence.

"Do you have any questions?"

I had already decided that my best course of action was to reveal nothing about my thoughts and feelings and act, instead, as if I had been defeated and given up. "Thank you for your concern, ma'am," I started off, failing to keep the anger out of my voice despite my decision to stay cool. "I'm sure your concern is both sincere and heartfelt."

Despite my best intentions, I had lost control. That last statement was dripping with sarcasm and I went on the same way. "I'm sure there aren't very many men whose wives are so supportive of their cross-dressing tendencies that they will castrate them and steal everything they own!"

Despite the venom in my voice, she looked at me blandly. "You are weak and you are a fool," she replied without emotion. "I have nothing but contempt for someone who would allow himself to be turned into a maid. You're so pitiful it's beyond my comprehension."

Now her voice turned nasty. "I pushed you into increasingly humiliating circumstances, but, except for once, you never resisted. You sunk into the maid's role with stunning ease. As far as I can see, you were born to be a maid."

"But why?" I choked out, hit hard by her hatred and contempt. "You knew about me when we married."

"My mistake," she hissed. "At first I was repulsed by the whole idea, although I will admit that I thought you were a decent and caring person. I was lonely; I thought I'd give it a try."

She looked away for a moment, her face softening. But, as soon as she looked back at me, the softness fled and was replaced by a chilling harshness. She stared at me for a moment before going on.

"John disgusted me," she spit out. "Any man who wants to abandon his sex is insane ... perverted ... beneath contempt." Her tone skewered my soul. How could I have been so mistaken about her?

"Then, you almost lost the Mark Seven contract because of your stupid perversion and your performance at work went down the tubes. I'd heard that transvestites are self-centered, but you were the worst. I'd had it."

"But Carla," I pleaded, "I'd given up dressing..."

"But you were obsessed with it anyway, weren't you?" she shouted. "It was all you could think of!"

That wasn't true, but before I could respond, she went on. "So I figured I'd give you one last chance. I'd open the door to Jacqui. If John went through it, so be it. If he didn't...." She hesitated for just a heartbeat. "But I knew he would and he did. Congratulations dear. Welcome to your new life."

We sat in silence for a few moments. I was shocked to my core by her revelations. I was so shaken, I couldn't even ask how. Instead, I said, "But why are you holding me hostage here for three years?"

"Oh, you're not a hostage," she said brightly. "You're an immigrant. You needed a sponsor to stay in the country and I volunteered. I've saved you. After you get your Green Card, you can do whatever you want."

With that, she got up and crossed the room, taking a large envelope from the table near the door. She returned to where I was sitting and handed me a passport. It was from Hong Kong. I was Jacqui Lian Chang, a Chinese of mixed ancestry, born in Hong Kong. According to the biography included with my papers, I had been brought into the country by my distant cousin, John Ingram, who, before he disappeared, had persuaded his former business partner, Carla, to take me on as her maid. I was simply flabbergasted.

"Good," she said, seeing how startled I was. "Now that we have that all squared away, here's the way things will be. Stand up Jacqui, and face me." She had reseated herself on the couch. I stood, dumbly, folding my hands in front of me.

"I am Ms. Martin, your employer. You are Jacqui, my immigrant maid. John is gone forever and you were never him. You and I have only the most formal, employer-employee relationship. You are never to be familiar with me. You are never to disagree with me. If you displease me, I will have you deported. Do you understand?"

I looked at her without comprehension. This was just impossible. "Kurt will take care of me," I said.

Carla just laughed. "He's out of the country for an indefinite period," she said, "his uncle is taking a long time to die and there will be much to do to settle the estate once he finally kicks off. Besides, you little twit, do you really think a sophisticated man like Kurt would be caught dead with a joke like you?"

Oh God, no! He wouldn't, would he? I am a joke. With my corseted waist and giant tits, I looked like an Asian Barbie doll. With my voice, I sounded more vacuous than Betty Boop. I was trapped. I had everything I could do to hold back my tears.

"Now Jacqui, we are quite done. Go find the First Girl and get on with your chores. I'll give you two weeks of light duty and half days to finish your recovery then it's back to your full-time schedule. You can make up the time in the future. You may now curtsey and get on with it."

I stood there dumbfounded for a moment as Carla pretended to focus on something else. When I hadn't moved after five seconds or so, she said, "Did you hear me? Move it!"

"Yes, ma'am,' I said stupidly, dropping as full a curtsey as the pain in my groin would allow. I was somewhat startled at how different it felt to do that with nothing squashed up between my legs.

"That's 'mum', you stupid twit," she said angrily.

I repeated the curtsey, saying 'mum' this time. Then I turned and left the room.

"So, Jacqui." Melissa greeted me when I returned to the maid's quarters. "Welcome to the rest of your life. Now you'll really get to see what being a maid is like. Ms. Martin has made it clear to me that I am responsible for keeping the house in perfect condition and I have no intention of letting things slide. As second maid, most of the cleaning will now fall to you, so be prepared for it.

"Yes, Melissa," I replied, still not totally aware of where I was. "Whatever."

Smack! She slapped me right across the face. "You listen to me when I'm talking Missy, do you understand?" She was right in my face, her hands on her hips, her chest pressed into mine. I felt totally intimidated.

"Yes, Melissa, sorry Melissa," I hurried out, trying to back away from her while I held my hand to my stinging cheek.

"That's First Girl to you," she responded sharply, "or Mistress. I'll tell you when you may use my name."

I nodded and curtseyed. "Yes mistress." The look of triumph on her face was frightening. It was full of contempt.

"Good. Now, do you feel up to doing some of your chores or do you need to rest?" she asked.

"Can I please have a couple of hours?" I asked. "This is the longest I've been out of bed for almost three weeks."

"I like that," she said, "the way you asked so politely. Keep it up and we'll get along just fine." She chuckled to herself. "Take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow you may sleep late, but be prepared to work half a day. I have no intention of injuring you, but neither do I want you slacking off. Now, go to bed."

The next few weeks passed in a haze. It was as if I had not only gotten a new body, but a new brain as well. I was terribly depressed and just couldn't think clearly. I tired easily and couldn't keep up with Melissa's demands even though they really weren't excessive. She was all over me for every little thing and I was starting to get uncertain and insecure.

I retreated into embroidering, sewing and searching the web for information about flowers, shrubs, and other plants, although I had yet to venture outside myself. Oh yes, and I spent time finding every piece of information out there on voice control. I was determined to lower my voice.

I worked on my voice whenever I was alone, trying to find ways to lower it, and doing the exercises I had discovered on the web. Still, I was very hesitant to talk to anyone, because I was now convinced that my voice sounded exactly like those little girl voices that are dubbed over to give English dialogue to Chinese actresses in 'B' grade martial arts movies. ‘Oh, Wang! That is the terrible Wei Yang who has come to the village! We are all lost’.

Gradually though, I got my head back together. There was little going on at the house and it was easy to keep up with the cleaning. I hardly ever saw Carla, which was definitely good for me. Melissa was strict, but not nasty, and I worked hard so she had little reason to complain.

My main goal was to get through the day without having to think much about what had happened to me. I was trying to feel good about my breasts, even though they were always in the way and had created a new strain on my back. I was trying to get past the constant awareness of what had happened between my legs. I mean, it was so different now, with nothing there on the outside and strange new feelings on the inside. I guess I was making some progress because one afternoon, as I sat to pee, I realized that I had not thought about my lost penis and balls or new vagina since I had peed last. That was real progress.

Ignoring my body and my predicament was impossible at night. I was anxious and depressed and full of anger at Carla and Melissa. I was getting very little sleep, which made the rest of my life lousy. Despite the progress I was making, things sucked.

Even though I was starting to get used to it, my new vagina was a major focus of my life. I still had to clean it carefully and then dilate four times a day. I was startled one evening as I sat back in bed and pushed a new, slightly wider stent into place. I felt a slight shock, as if someone was rubbing the underside of my penis. Up until then, things had been pretty numb.

This encouraged me to explore some more and, sure enough, I could detect some sexual stirrings from rubbing inside my vagina. My new clitoris, little more than a slightly hard nub of tissue, absolutely tingled as I played with it.

This both thrilled and appalled me. I was no longer in a chastity belt and I had a working vagina. Did this mean I could have sex with a man? As I rubbed the stent around inside me, my mind started to wander. I could now imagine how it might feel to have someone inside me.

For one brief instant I visualized myself, flat on my back, my legs spread wide, while some faceless man loomed over me, his gigantic penis aimed at the virgin space between my legs. I stared at it from between the mountains of my gigantic breasts, fearing that it would be too big, but as quickly as that image had coalesced, it dissolved. While I could now understand better than ever before just what intercourse might feel like, for the life of me, I couldn't imagine myself actually doing it. It was too foreign an idea.

Then, about the time that my face had fully recovered and my breasts had stopped being so sore, I started to take an interest in life again. One day after Melissa and I had laced each other into our corsets, I was now so thin, that I was down to twenty inches with no discomfort at all. I sat in front of my vanity and rationally examined my face. Whether you liked Asian features or not, I had to admit to myself that I was a pretty damn good-looking babe. I started to apply my makeup.

"Welcome back, Jacqui," Melissa had been watching me in the mirrors.

"Thanks," I squeaked. God, I hated the way I sounded!

Because I was now working on a new canvas, I had to stop and clean off my makeup a couple of times before I achieved a look I was moderately satisfied with. Getting the new me perfected would require more practice.

"Good mornin', mum." I forced myself to smile as I poured Ms. Martin's coffee despite the way my voice sounded. I was determined to get used to it. I'm sure I hadn't smiled at her since leaving for the hospital.

"Thank you, Jacqui." Even though it was clear that she noticed it, my smile didn't change anything. As was her norm, Ms. Martin directed her conversation, what little there was, to Melissa during breakfast. As I cleared the table, she spoke to me.

"Are your breasts fully healed, Jacqui?"

"Yes, I think so, mum."

"Good, dispose of that horrid bra you've been wearing then."

"Mum?" I asked without thinking.

"Yes?"

"Just this one or are you ordering me to go braless again?" I asked even though I'd guessed her answer.

"I would prefer that the top of your corsets be all of the support your breasts need from now on."

"Yes mum, of course."

I didn't want my breasts flopping about and jiggling with every movement I made and I didn't want them on display like beef in a butcher's window, but I took the bra off when I had the chance. My uniform now exposed most of the tops of my breasts, which the corset lifted and presented as if they were gifts to all who chose to gaze upon them. As I looked into the mirror, I could see how my top was truly full, brimming with breast tissue. I also had incredible cleavage. The bulging flesh was very pale and remarkably soft. The skin seemed almost translucent, perhaps because it was still stretched. A mole that had never been visible before stood out clearly in my cleavage. I never could have imagined my chest looking so womanly.

Even though I was starting to learn to feel proud of the way I looked, my monumental breasts were still a source of embarrassment for me, as if I had chosen them through some mistake in judgment, and everyone would know and look down on me for it.

For the remainder of August, as I gradually got my strength back, I followed the established routine: morning chores, my hobbies during our breaks then afternoon and evening chores. I hadn't been off the property except for one visit to see Dr. Tobias. I really didn't want to learn how the rest of the world would react to how I looked and sounded.

Only half my tomato plants had survived, but, because they had been planted so late, they were producing an unusually heavy late crop. The flowerbed in front was flourishing as well, stuffed in a carefully arranged chaotic way, like a country garden. Manuel was happy to bring more each time his crew came to attend to the yard.

One morning as I was standing with Manuel discussing what to plant for fall color, Ms. Martin came over to tell me that she was very pleased with how it was shaping up, or so I thought. Instead her goal was to humiliate me, by addressing me front of the gardeners and including all of us together. It was clear that her intent was to show me just where I stood.

"Manuel, you and Jacqui have done a wonderful job with the garden. I'm glad to see the two of you get along so well together."

"Muchas gracias," replied Manuel, taking off his hat and folding it in his hand. He was, I thought, the perfect image of a submissive Mexican gardener, fearful of losing his job.

"Thank you, mum," I was forced to say when Manuel had finished, because that was obviously what she was waiting for.

As Manuel turned to leave, he was smiling like a big puppy. "You know, Jacqui," Carla said to me, "you should think of trying to make some friends among your class. You'll be a very lonely young lady otherwise."

"What?" I squealed like a stuck pig.

Carla turned on me instantly. "Don't you dare talk to me like that!"

I quickly swallowed my pride and lowered my head, saying, "Yes mum. Sorry mum," as I bobbed two quick curtsies.

She glared at me, but went on. "You're a maid, Jacqui. You will find your social life among similarly placed people. I would guess you're not interested in the gardeners, though they are certainly interested in you. If you're lucky, maybe a plumber or electrician will take an interest in you. No educated professional person would even think of it."

I stared at her dumbfounded, my eyes wide and my mouth open (like I could even close it).

Carla just laughed at me. "Well, perhaps I'm not entirely correct there, Jacqui. I'm sure many professional men will want to fuck you. If you're clever, perhaps you can get some bauble or another in return."

I continued to stare at her, so she went on, obviously relishing the pain she was causing me. "This is all real, you know? No more little cross-dressing games." Then she turned and left. All I could do was to think to myself, 'Fuck you bitch. Who needs your condescending crap'?

My life was now pretty empty and, to keep myself from getting too depressed, I vigorously threw myself into my chores each morning. By the beginning of September, I was doing most of the work and taking at least some pride in doing each task well.

Then one day, I was cleaning up in the dining room when the phone rang. I could just hear Melissa as she answered. "No, I'm sorry she can't come to the phone. No, Henry, she is not available now and never will be to you. Please don't call anymore?"

What was going on? Henry had called and Melissa told him I couldn't talk? That was too much. I almost stormed into the kitchen, but restrained myself at the last second. It was better, I decided, not to let her know what I knew. I would have to get in touch with Henry on my own.

This really lifted my heart. I thought that Kurt had abandoned me, but it now looked as if Melissa and Carla were simply not allowing me to speak with him. My break came a few days later. Carla was at work and Melissa had gone to the market. I quickly called Henry as soon as I was sure the house was empty.

"Hello? Henry? It's me Jacqui."

"Jacqui? He replied in his professionally clipped tone. "Do I know you?"

"Yes, Henry, you do," I squeaked out. "They operated on my throat and changed my voice. This is the Jacqui, you dropped off at the hospital, six weeks ago. Henry, they castrated me and made me into a woman." I started to sob.

"I'm trapped here. How did it happen? What did Kurt tell Dr. Tobias to do?" There was a long pause.

"Jacqui, I don't know anything about any of this. Let me look into it. By the way, Mr. Mark will be back in ten days. He really misses you. He wants to see you at the airport when he arrives."

"Oh God, Henry. Carla told me he had abandoned me and would never want to see me again. Oh, Henry, are you sure? Oh, thank God, Henry. Oh please, Henry, please say you're sure? I've been so scared and didn't know what to do."

"Are you alright, Jacqui? You're not in any danger are you?"

"No, Henry, I'm safe. It's all very complicated. I'm afraid to tell you over the phone."

"Jacqui, Mr. Mark left me with orders to look out for you. I can come get you out of there right now if you want?"

I almost shouted 'Yes! Come get me right now!" I took a deep breath and stopped myself. "Henry, find out what you can and please see if Kurt's lawyers can help me? He's my only hope now. I'll call you. I don't want Carla and Melissa to know what's going on. I'm sure they'll try to stop me."

"Okay, Jacqui. Try to hold on there. I'm only a cell phone call away if you need me. In the meantime, I'll see what I can learn. Jacqui, do plan to go to the airport when Mr. Mark arrives. You will meet his plane even if I have to kidnap you." Henry's confidence was such a contrast to the helplessness I'd been feeling, it almost made me cry.

"Oh thank you, Henry, you have no idea how much I needed to hear this. I'll call you."

When I hung up the phone, I sat down and cried. Everything I had been holding in just came out. I cried and cried and cried until I had nothing left. Then I went to fix my face and do my chores. Everything seemed different now. Finally, there was some hope. Kurt wouldn't let me down. He would be my white knight.

The trick for me, as far as I could figure it, would be to keep my secret from Carla and Melissa. Carla would be easy; she never paid attention to me anyway. Melissa, however, was another story. We still lived together and she had become very adept at reading my moods. In fact, once I had pretty much regained my strength and could carry my load of the chores again, our friendly relationship reasserted itself and many of our days together passed rather pleasantly, as long as I remembered my place.

I don't know what Melissa thought, but it was clear to me that our relationship was now one between two unequal people. She was the boss and I was the hired help. No matter how nice she might be, it was obvious that I didn't have to scratch the surface of her patience or her ‘friendship’ very deeply, at all, before I found someone ready and eager to keep me in my place.

You can imagine how startled I was when she appeared behind me two nights after my conversation with Henry. I was brushing my hair, which hadn't been cut since May, and was now a good two inches longer than my original bubble cut had left it.

"Can I do that for you, Jacqui?" she said. I couldn't help, but notice that she was dressed in one of her silky nightgowns. It was cut in tightly below the bust and showed her breasts to good advantage. I hadn't seen this nightie since we had ‘played around’ earlier in the summer.

Overcoming my suspicion of her motive, I handed her the brush, glad to be able to lower my arms. It still hurt a little to work with them over my head. She brushed my hair languorously for a couple of minutes then put the brush aside to start caressing my face and neck. I immediately stiffened up.

"Relax honey," she said softly. "I've missed you. I thought we could share a bed tonight like we used to."

I turned to face her, trying to find her motive in her face. It looked kind and welcoming, her lips were slightly parted and she had applied lipstick, a sure sign of what she had planned. Still, I was uneasy. I felt no warmth for her at all. She was Carla's partner in my castration and subjugation.

"Melissa," I said, my voice wavering softly with anxiety, "I don't think we should."

"But I do," she responded quickly, her voice now more commanding than anything else. "So we will." She went back to her soft, seductive tone. "I wanted to be the first to sample your new goodies … and I will be. Come with me. We're going to bed."

She reached out and took my hand, pulling me to my feet and leading me towards her bunk. When we got there, she handed me a deep-red lipstick and said, "You know what to do." I looked at her for a second, but her face was set. I applied the lipstick and climbed into the bed next to her.

"Please be gentle?" I begged. "Don't hurt me."

"Don't worry honey, you're in for a treat. I'm very good at this."

She was too. She kissed me carefully, using her lips and fingers to explore my new face. She paid special attention to my new fatter lips, licking and nibbling on them like they were over-ripe fruit. I just loved the feeling, as she drew my lower lip into her mouth and kissed it almost like it was my tongue, finally letting it go with little nibbles and pecks.

Then she worked her mouth down my neck to my upper chest and the tops of my breasts. As she did this, she drew her body down on mine so her head was even with my breasts. She lifted herself up for a moment and looked me in the eye. She lowered her mouth to one of my nipples at the same time that she grabbed that breast in both her hands. It was so big, it seemed that it took both her hands to hold it. She kneaded and suckled and I thought I would swoon at the feeling. It wasn't just the feeling of her hands and lips on my breast, I had felt that before. It was also that my nipple was so far from my body and there was so much breast between it and my chest. The nipple was floating on the soft cloud of my breast and, for whatever reason, this made me feel deliciously feminine.

As she played with my breasts, I got strange stirring between my legs. It felt like I was about to get a hard-on, but there was nothing there to get hard. It was both exquisite and frustrating, but much better than having my penis locked away.

"Let me touch yours," I whispered hoarsely. When I whispered, my voice wasn't nearly so bad.

"No," she said, "Just lie still for now. Your turn will come."

I don't know how long she spent on my breasts, but however long it was, I was still disappointed when she stopped. Her hesitation was only momentary. She left a hand to knead each breast as she worked her lips down my belly to the top of my pubic bone. The hair still hadn't fully grown out and it was scratchy.

"This will never do," she declared, sitting upright. Don't move. She jumped out of the bed, but returned in only a few moments with a wet washcloth, razor and shaving cream. It didn't take her long to shave me completely and rub a sweet smelling lotion into my skin.

That turned out to be foreplay, because the rubbing soon turned to caressing then to licking and kissing. Even though she was very gentle and quite sexy, I was getting more and more uptight as she worked her way towards that strange new space between my legs.

When Melissa finally put her finger into my vagina and touched the nub of my new clitoris, I almost jumped off the bed.

"Easy baby," she soothed, looking up at my face. "You're as skittish as a fourteen year old virgin."

"I am a virgin," I said back, my voice quivering with anxiety. "And I'm scared."

She giggled at me and said, "Just relax baby, let Melissa show you how." With that, she slithered even further down, so she was between my legs, and reached around me, grabbing one cheek of my ass in each hand. She cocked her head to the side, like a bird looking at the ground for a worm, smiled to herself and again lowered her head between my legs.

She rubbed her lips all over my ... what do I call it now? My mons? That's what it was, I guess, considering what now lay below it. From there, she licked my upper thighs and kissed them rubbing her lips up and down. She did everything, but actually touch my new lips, which now protruded puffily between my legs.

I gradually loosened up and relaxed down onto the bed. I found my hand on my breast. I had, of course, touched them before. I'd washed them, hefted them and generally tried to get their feel as I examined them in the mirror, but I hadn't caressed them sexually. I did that now, bringing my other hand up too, massaging the bulk of each of them. I rubbed them around on my chest and trailed my fingers around and around the nipples without actually touching them.

For a moment, the attention I was paying to my breasts distracted me from Melissa's efforts between my legs, but, all of a sudden, she licked the labia on one side of my vagina from the bottom to the top in one long, moist motion. It sent a shockwave through my body. For an instant, I thought someone had licked my scrotum! In the very next instant, my mind said that couldn't be. Then she licked the other side, also sliding her tongue up from the bottom to the very top. Once she reached the top, she licked down the other side. Having wet the entrance way, she then stuck her tongue firmly between the two lips and licked all the way up their inside edges.

My mind was rocked by the feeling of slick, wet licking on a part of my anatomy that had never existed. It just couldn't understand what was going on and I grabbed both my breasts and held on as I tried to interpret this new reality. I couldn't even get my hands around those gigantic orbs, so my fingers dug in and I pushed them into my chest.

Melissa wasn't giving me any time to think. She moved her tongue deeply into my tunnel while she gently pulled the lips apart with her soft fingers so she could bury her tongue in as far in as possible. The feeling of her tongue inside me was wonderful. It was almost as if someone had engulfed my penis, but that wasn't it at all, because, instead of coming from the outside of a rod, as it always had in the past, this feeling emanated from inside a cavern that had never existed before.

After thrusting her tongue in and out and swirling it around as she explored this new space to her own satisfaction, she withdrew it and used only the very tip to gently stroke what could only be my new clitoris. The feelings were almost too much for me and I began squirming and wriggling on the bed. While the feeling of her tongue in my vagina was one of warmth and fulfillment, the feelings as she flicked my clitoris was almost ticklish and made me feel desperate to have her squeeze my erection hard and stroke it and slide it into...

This made no sense at all. I didn't have an erection and there was nothing to squeeze... anymore. I couldn't stand it. I wanted her to continue and I wanted her to stop. I was exquisitely sensitive there, but I keep waiting to get hard, something that would never happen again.

"Melissa, please stop?" I squeaked out. "I can't stand it."

"You want me to stop?" she asked, sounding slightly stunned. "No one has ever asked me to stop before."

"Melissa, I'm not really a woman. It feels all wrong, somehow. The feelings don't make sense. I want to get hard, but there's nothing left to get hard. I have to figure this out."

"Humph," she said, sounding rather skeptical. "Well, if I can't do you, you can do me. Roll over. You be on top." Melissa slithered onto her back, looking very sexy. Her lips were red and swollen, her nipples pushed hard against the clingy material of her nightie and she smelled of sex. I would have preferred to have stopped, so I could make sense of all these new feelings, but it was clear what she wanted and I knew that she would get angry if I refused.

"Would you like a warm-up?" I asked as I lowered my chest to her and rubbed my nipples over hers, or should I go straight to the main event?"

"Mmmmm," was apparently all she could get out, because that's all she said. ‘Humph,’ I thought to myself, ‘I guess I'm on my own.’ I went to work.

All of a sudden, just when I had my face firmly wedged between Melissa's thighs and my tongue working furiously inside her pussy, we heard Carla mounting the steel stairs and loudly call, "Corset check!" The lights came on. When I turned to look, there stood Carla, her face twisted into an angry mask.

"What the fuck is going on here?" she demanded, as I rolled off Melissa. "You're not home a month and you're already having sex with my sister? You are a slut, you little bitch! Get the fuck out of bed! I'll teach you."

As I went to stand, she stalked about the room. I turned to look at Melissa, who, for some reason, was on her knees, searching under her bunk.

Carla turned when Melissa stood with a big smile and a box in her hands. As if in slow motion, I watched her take the gleaming steel device from the tissues. Carla was laughing when Melissa held the new chastity belt.

"Put it on, you fucking, little slut! I’m sure you know how!" she ordered with venom dripping from every word. Melissa was applied a liberal coating of biocide lubricant to the stent mounted inside the front shield then handed the whole thing to me.

Tears were rolling down my cheeks. I couldn't bear the thought of another chastity belt, this time, one that would actually invade me. I stood there, shaking my head, but not moving.

"Put it on," shouted Carla. "If you don't, I'll have you deported."

I looked up at her, begging with eyes, but her face was hard and full of hatred. It scared me to my bones. I saw no way out, and certainly didn't want to be deported, so I just did as I’d been told.

Melissa had been poised behind me to fasten the rear lock. Once I’d wrapped the band about the top of my hips and settled it on the lower portion of my corset, she held it in place while I reached between my legs to lift up the front shield. Once I'd done that, Melissa ‘helped’ by spreading my cheeks so the back strap could settle against my tailbone as I pressed the stent slowly up inside of me.

The front section of the new belt was much wider then my old one to completely cover my vagina and completely deny access to my sex. I started to cry when Melissa pressed the pieces of the locking mechanism in my shaking hand.

"You do it, you slutty bitch. You get to lock up your hungry cunt yourself," Carla hissed.

"Put the cylinder over the three studs in front. Now push the pin in from the side," Melissa instructed. Once I had, she handed me a small tool to seat the pin in the groove for the shackle.

"You need to pluck your lips into the two grooves in your crotch. Be sure they aren’t pinched because the secondary shield will cover them and there won’t be a thing you can do about it then." Using my long nails, I carefully drew each of my nether lips out until they were relatively comfortable, though it wasn’t a pleasant sensation by any means. I quickly learned that things would get worse.

The secondary shield was a perforated piece bent in a U to match the curve of the front shield there. This was bent inwards on both sides so that once I’d slipped the end into the socket below the opening over my anus, the piece stood away from the main belt with the sides closed to prevent anything from touching my lips and the knob attached to the stent inside protruded through the middle of it.

The lock mechanism assembled in the same way as the other two, in the middle of my abdomen. Melissa wrapped the shackles of two padlocks in the grooves of each assembly, covering the pins to prevent removal, but didn’t close the locks. That task was left to me to perform.

I pleaded with my tear filled eyes toward Carla not to do this to me again. It did no good. She motioned for me to do what she expected and smiled, once the shackles snapped into the heavy cases. She tugged each lock, hard, to assure herself that they were properly secure.

"Very good. Get back in bed, both of you." Melissa tossed me my nightie from where she’d earlier discarded it and put on her own. Climbing up to the to bunk gave me the first hints of why the belt’s designer had intended for the victim’s labia to be positioned as mine were.

As my body moved, the rubber covered edges pulled and tugged gently against sensitive flesh. I was going to be continuously stimulated! It would never be enough to push me to orgasm, if I could still have one, but it would constantly remind me of what I could no longer touch.

I sobbed in frustration and probed about the steel.

Melissa, however, wasn’t going to tolerate my whimpering. Once Carla had turned out the lights and gone back downstairs, she said, "Shut the fuck up, Jacqui. I want to sleep!"

"Sleep! How can you be so insensitive after what your sister has done to me?" I whined.

"If you don’t be quiet, I’ll call her back and you’ll learn what fun it is sleeping with a gag as well as those cute leather cuffs they put on you in the clinic after you attacked Ms. Martin," Melissa threatened.

I lay awake for a long time that night, feeling even more sorry for myself than I had at the hospital. Being turned into a woman was one thing. Being prevented from even touching my new vagina was something else altogether. I didn't know how I would survive if I couldn't get out of there. I'm not sure when I fell asleep.

*****

"Alright Jacqui, Let's get to work. Don't think that just because I let you go down on me last night that that changes anything. When I say jump, the only thing you have to figure out is how high. Now get moving." Melissa completely ignored the other little thing that had happened last night.

"Stand there," After I’d served her coffee at breakfast, Carla pointed to the opposite side of the table.

"I’m fully aware of the medical need for you to dilate several times a day." She talked between mouthfuls without looking at me. "I did not invest my money in a new vagina for you only to have it wasted because you didn't care for it properly."

"I’ve consulted with several physicians regarding alternatives so that your hot cunt can be locked away with the kind of belt a slut like you needs, Jacqui. You’re wearing it. Instead of frequent, daily dilations, the stent built into your belt will keep your hole stretched open and available when I permit men to use you. On the front in the middle of the knob there is a fitting. Through it, you can douche and re-lubricate. Then you only have to twist the knob to effectively distribute the lubricant.

"They informed me that if you do this diligently, three or four times a day, there’s no medical reason to ever have to open the shields." Carla displayed a triumphant smile.

"Go upstairs and start your chores." That was it; I’d been dismissed. I was too depressed to argue — her decision had been made.

Melissa was a total bitch all day and nothing I did was right. As I thought about it later, I understood that the sexual interlude we shared was just like the sex many bosses had shared with their female employees for thousands of years. Any pleasure the boss gave was to establish dominance and the main purpose of the whole event was to allow the boss to get her rocks off. This particular instance had another motive as well. It was to trap me and give Carla the justification, as if she needed one, for placing my new sex under lock and key.

Melissa wasn't experienced at this, so she went from one extreme, being an attentive lover, to the other, being a bitchy boss, to protect her own feelings. It seemed clear to me that she would demand sex again and that it would mean even less to her than it had last night. Oh well, at least I learned some things about myself. I liked the way my new body felt when she'd touched it. Truth, be told, I was eager to learn more. Despite the fact that I didn't trust her, I had no intention of resisting Melissa's efforts to seduce me in the future. Maybe I could become relaxed enough to eventually enjoy what she could give me, if we could only get the chastity belt off.

"So Jacqui," Carla said to me as she finished breakfast a few days later. "Mr. Mark has informed me that he wants you to meet his flight and spend the evening with him when he arrives from Germany on Saturday."

"He did, mum?" I curtseyed, brightening. "I didn't know." I had been working on my voice, but thought I still sounded like Minnie Mouse.

"Of course you didn't know, you twit. He called me, not you." She looked at me sourly, but then suddenly smiled. "But I think you should meet him. It's about time he met the new you. Everyone needs a good laugh now and again."

"I'm sure they do, mum." I had tried to stifle myself, but failed. That was obviously sarcastic, and it didn't escape Carla's notice.

"How cute, Jacqui, expressing your resentment in such a subtle way. I expect you'll be feeling like that a lot, as time goes on," she went on in a conversational tone. But then her voice hardened, "But you had better be careful, girly. I doubt you'll like the consequences if you piss me off with another one of your little zingers." She eyed me coldly.

Then she shifted back to a relaxed tone again. "Anyway, Henry will pick you up at three thirty and since nothing you used to own would fit anymore, I've gotten you some terrific new clothes. Just to show how generous I am, I've made an appointment for you at my salon to get your hair and nails done. You really do look a mess. Now what do you say?"

I curtseyed carefully and said, "Thank you, mum. That's very generous of you, mum. I'm sure it will make a big difference, mum."

"Yes, I know it will," she said sourly.

End of Part VI