An epic story of power, money, politics, deceit and love. Sam fights to maintain his masculinity as he falls further under the spell of his feminine lifestyle. Mistakes are made and a price is paid.
Femdom, crossdressing, hair and hair salon, corseting, heels, appliances attached, sex, illustrations.
The Samantha Project by G. L. Hudson
CHAPTER 31
The desk phone buzzed into the middle of Maggie’s conversation. She was on the phone with a Rio de Janeiro photographer. It was one of Maggie’s better picture takers. The man not only supplied some great pictures for her web site, but this photographer had also discovered one of Maggie’s most beautiful boys; Julia.
“Can I get back to you please? I think I have an emergency brewing.” Maggie’s executive secretary knew that she was on a call, and she also knew not to interrupt without a very good reason. Maggie picked up the handset and asked, “What’s the problem, Suzy?”
“Miss Mona wants to see you immediately.”
“Thanks, Suzy.”
Maggie left her office through her executive secretary’s office and out into her reception area. From there she walked down the hall past a few other reception alcoves and offices until she reached the number three office. Office number one belonged to Miss Grace and number two belonged to Michelle Hawthorne. Miss Grace was the matriarch and creator of the modern Hawthorne empire. Michelle Hawthorne was one of those once in a century geniuses. Michelle was a wizard — or witch — when it came to international financial services. She had been the guiding force that took Miss Grace’s family business from comfortable to one of the powers on the face of the planet.
And it was Miss Mona’s job to give Miss Michelle the room to do what she wanted. Mona Hawthorne had her tentacles entwined throughout the entire federal power structure in Washington D. C. Miss Mona was either respected or hated by everyone that knew her. She did favors and earned chits that made her and the family almost immune from the government and its laws. Some of her favors were dark ops that were nasty and of highly questionable legality. Hawthorne jets had flown rendition flights for the CIA under the previous administration. And State Department officials had traveled internationally for clandestine negotiations held aboard Hawthorne jets. On top of that, Miss Mona provided cash and cocktail parties for too many elected officials to even count.
And she had a reputation that would have haunted a lesser woman, but Mona wore that reputation with pride.
Mona’s executive secretary buzzed Maggie into the office. “Yes, Miss Mona?”
“Look at this,” and she waved Maggie over beside her. Mona was behind her desk watching something on her computer monitor. “What the hell is going on here? This is Samantha’s apartment!”
Maggie looked at the screen for a few moments and saw Samantha and someone else in her bedroom. The someone else was a boy, sitting in front of a vanity and mirror and he was attempting to apply mascara to his eyelashes. Samantha was standing behind the other boy and giving verbal instructions.
“What’s going on?” Maggie asked.
“That’s what I want to know. I flipped this on not expecting him to be home yet, and I found this.”
“How long have you been watching this?”
“Not much more than ten minutes.”
“What else has been going on?”
“This is about it. It appears as if Samantha is telling the boy in the chair how to apply makeup.”
“I don’t understand. Samantha brought a boy to his apartment? Who is this kid? And why is he helping the boy apply makeup?”
“I don’t know!” Mona almost yelled. “Is he gay? Has he been gaming us?”
“No … I don’t think that is possible. That doesn’t make any sense at all. How long has this been going on?”
“How the hell would I know? Isn’t that your job?”
“Yes ma’am. It is my job. Let me check the logs and see if this has happened before. I’ll also call the body guard and see what she knows.”
“Isn’t she supposed to keep you up to date on shit like this?”
“Yes ma’am. Obviously she hasn’t been doing her job.”
“Well I’m calling Lisa. I want to find out what she knows.”
“No!” Maggie almost yelled before she caught herself. “Let me do my checking first. Lisa might not know anything, and I don’t think we want to cause her any alarm. Don’t you agree, ma’am?”
Mona thought for a moment while she watched Samantha demonstrate how to apply mascara. “You’re right. Find out what you can and get back to me immediately. This isn’t good, Maggie. I don’t want some reporter digging around twenty years from now and finding this guy. There is no telling what he might say. I want it handled.”
“Yes, Miss Mona,” and Maggie stomped out of the office.
Back in her own office, Maggie called Jill. “Do you know that there is a boy in Samantha’s apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“All I know is his first name, Bill. He was Samantha’s laboratory partner in chemistry last semester.”
“Do you know what they are doing?”
“Not really.”
“What do you know?” Maggie’s voice was rising.
Jill explained how Bill had figured out who Samantha really was. She told Maggie about their discussions after class and then later in the library. Then she told her about their shopping trip. “The two of them met in the library yesterday, then they left and went shopping together.”
“Where? For what?”
“They went off campus to a drug store and bought cosmetics. From there, they split up and Samantha went back to her apartment. She took the cosmetics with her.”
“Jill, do you know what is going on?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve only picked up bits and pieces of their discussions in the library. But if I had to guess, I think Bill is a transvestite. I think he likes Samantha, and is jealous of her … uhm, her dressing situation. And now, I think Samantha might be helping Bill.”
Maggie thought about everything for a few moments. Then her temper started rising again. “You were supposed to keep an eye on Samantha and let me know everything that was going on. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I thought everyone knew. The first time that Bill started guessing about Samantha, Samantha told Lisa. After every morning discussion between the two, Samantha had lunch with Lisa. I thought Samantha was telling Lisa what was going on.”
“Lisa knows about this?”
“I guess … I thought so,” Jill said with less than much certitude.
Maggie was stopped dead in her tracks. That really brought up some questions. If Lisa knew why was she allowing it to happen? Maggie had to think this over. “Thanks Jill. Keep me informed of all contact between these two,” and Maggie clicked off.
Maggie walked around her office three times before she made up her mind. She punched Lisa’s speed number and waited for Lisa to pick up. “Hey, how ya doing?”
“Fine. I’m killing a little time before I go pick up Samantha for dinner.”
“Did you get him switched off his anti-androgens?”
“Yep. After we bought some new vitamins, I removed his other pills from his kitchen. I took them back with me.”
“Good thinking. No chance of him making any mistakes that way. Did you find some new panties for sleeping?”
“Yeah, no problem. We went to our favorite store and found some nice tap pants and frilly knickers for him. I think he liked them,” she giggled.
“That’s great Lisa.” Ok, now it was time to start prying. “So how is Samantha doing? Everything ok?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Is he still isolated by himself? Is that working out ok?”
“I think so. We had a long talk at the mall on Monday. You know, the part where he has pretty much accepted his feminization, but he needs continuous reassurance that what he is doing is ok. But I think he is happy now. Mom says he will need occasional encouragement. But that’s ok. I understand the situation.”
That didn’t sound like Lisa knew about someone else. Maggie had to keep prying. “So Samantha is doing ok on his own? What does he do during the day, while you’re at class?”
“He seems to be doing fine. He goes to his classes in the morning, I meet him for lunch and then in the afternoon he either has classes or studies in the library. Lately he has also had some salon appointments: some mornings and some afternoons. But he seems to be getting around just fine.”
Maggie had to go for broke, “By himself?”
“No, Jill follows him and makes sure he is ok.”
A new tact, “How is Jill working out? Is she reporting any problems?”
“No, everything is going just swell.” It was getting close to time for her to go get Samantha for dinner. Lisa wanted to be respectful to her father so she said, “I need to be leaving to go pick him up, is there anything you want me to pass along?”
Last chance, Maggie had to go for broke, “A couple of weeks ago, didn’t Samantha say something about a boy that maybe recognized him?” Maggie held her breath.
Lisa seemed to be thinking for a second. “I guess I vaguely remember him saying something about that, but I guess nothing happened. Should I ask him?”
“No, no, no.” Maggie hoped she didn’t sound to urgent … or interested. “You guys go eat. I love you dear.”
“Me too, bye.”
Maggie stood up and began circling her office again. She was trying to decide what she actually knew, what she thought she knew and what options she might have. But one thing she knew for sure, she didn’t want Lisa to know anything was amiss. She quickly called Mona.
“Well have you found out anything?” Miss Mona demanded.
“I’m still digging into this. But I am pretty sure that Lisa knows nothing about it. Please don’t say anything to Lisa … at least not yet.”
“Well what do you know?”
“Speculation; Jill thinks he is Samantha’s chemistry lab partner from last semester. His name is Bill, no last name yet, and Jill thinks he has figured out who Samantha really is.”
“Shit! What are we going to do about it?”
“Wait, there might be more. Jill thinks he may be a cross dresser and he might be really envious of Samantha. They have been spending their afternoons in the library talking together.” Maggie came to a halt.
“What?” Mona demanded.
“Oh shit! If that is the case, then that might mean Samantha and him are talking. I mean talking about what Samantha is doing and who she is meeting. Everything.”
“That does it, I’m calling Matt.”
Miss Mona was going over the deep end. Calling in that maverick was a real mistake. It would just snowball future problems if someone started digging into Lisa’s past.
“No. Miss Mona please don’t bring him into this. At least not yet. Give me another day or so. There might be some more subtle way to handle this.”
Maggie could almost hear the gears grinding away in Mona’s head. Finally she relented. “Get to the bottom of this Maggie!” and she hung up.
Maggie knew immediately what she had to do next. She called Jill. “I want a bug on Samantha’s backpack first thing tomorrow. Understood?”
“No problem. I have easy access during his salon appointment tomorrow morning.”
“I want a live feed also.”
“You’ve got it.”
On Wednesday afternoon Samantha arrived at the library and Bill was already there. “Hi Samantha. How was your salon appointment today?”
“Ok. We’re still working on my chest. I guess most of my beard is ok, because she didn’t do any laser work on my face.”
“Did you do your hands again?”
“No, I’m just supposed to continue using the lotion she gave me; lots of moisturizer.”
“Did you guys go shopping last night?”
“No. we went out to eat and then Lisa said she had a test today. So we called it an early night.”
“Yeah. So, I really want to thank you for buying those cosmetics for me. And I really, really want to thank you for showing me how to apply them. I am just amazed at how good you are. Man, you really know this stuff.”
“Well, I have been applying my own makeup for a couple of weeks now. It really isn’t that hard. The hard part, at least in my opinion, is picking out the right colors and combinations in the first place. The application part just takes a little practice.”
“Yeah, practice. Can we go back to your apartment and practice again this afternoon?”
“Sure. I have a two o’clock class, then I’ll meet you there at three. Is that ok?”
“Man that would be wonderful. Thanks again, Samantha. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, recognizing you in the first place. God, I am so jealous of you. I wish I had a girl friend like Lisa. I would love to dress for her and … well perform for her en femme. But you agreeing to help me is absolutely great.” Bill paused and prepared to change the subject. He had a big favor to request.
“So, you two are going to New York on Friday, right? Are you looking forward to it?”
“Who wouldn’t? We’re flying out on our personal jet! Wow. Then we’re going to dinner and a show. On Saturday we’re going shopping and some new salon that her aunt has found. Then more dinner and another show. It should be fun.”
“Yeah, I bet it will be. And I’ll be stuck back here at Boring U. Samantha, can I ask for another huge favor?”
“What?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“You’re leaving on Friday? Returning on Monday? Well … would it be ok if I stayed at your apartment over the weekend? I could practice my makeup. And maybe I could buy a negligee and sleep there. Maybe?”
Sam was silent for almost a minute. “I guess we could do that.”
Bill jumped in his seat and in too loud of a voice said, “Oh wow. Thanks, thanks.”
“Shhh, calm down. There are some rules.”
“Anything.”
“You are out of there first thing Monday morning.”
“Goes without saying.”
“And you can’t wear any of my clothes. You’re too big and you will stretch them out.”
“Of course.”
“And you can have no one else there.”
“Absolutely not.”
Maggie turned off the feed. It was still being recorded, and she would study it in more detail later. But for now she had heard enough. She began another walking circuit of her spacious office and spoke aloud to only the pictures on her desk, “Samantha, have you no discretion? You tell no one outside the family what you are doing. No one! Damn it! If I told Miss Mona about you two, your friend Bill would be very unhappy. You are damn lucky I’m in position to handle this. Instead of Matt, your buddy is going to get one of Ann’s apprentices. Bill, you are going to get your wish.”
CHAPTER 32
The taxi pulled to a stop at the corporate hangar. While Lisa paid their bill, the co-pilot pulled over a cart for their luggage. Like the celebrities they were, Lisa and Samantha strutted out to the jet and walked up the steps while others prepped the plane. At the top of the landing the pilot greeted them and handed Lisa an envelope.
“What’s that?” Sam asked.
Lisa gave him a big smile. “You’ll see. Wait until we’re in the air.” The girls took their seats, each smoothing her skirt under her while taking her seat. It took 15 minutes to load the plane, taxi out to the runway and wait their turn. When the tower gave the pilot his permission for take-off, he pushed forward the thrusters and the jet shot into the air. It took a few minutes for air traffic control to clear them for 30,000 feet, then the pilot gave the clear sign. Lisa picked up the envelope and opened it just enough for her to peak inside. She rooted around for a second then pulled out a credit card sized piece of plastic. She held it close to her bosom and looked at it, then glanced at Sam. It looked like she was playing poker and holding her cards close to the vest.
“Ok, are you going to tell me what it is?”
“It’s your new driver’s license. It looks pretty good.”
Sam held out his hand and asked, “May I see it?”
“Of course sweetie,” and she handed it over.
He studied the license for a few moments, then began reading it. “Samantha Springer, West Hill, Virginia. That’s my new social security number. The picture doesn’t do me justice.”
“That goes without saying,” Lisa agreed.
“Height is about right, but the weight is way off. I’m at least 15 pounds lower.”
“That’s good. I think Maggie made an educated guess.”
“All in all, not bad. Wait, wait a minute. I think I’ve aged a few years.”
“You’re 21 now. Congrats.”
“I can go bar hopping now, pick up some chicks and get it on,” he said with a little extra body language thrown in.
“You’ll only be picking up one chick and I’m her, Miss Samantha Springer.” Lisa used her stern and determined voice.
“Ok, I don’t want to get in trouble. Please tell Maggie thank you. So what else do you have in there?”
Lisa pulled out another credit card sized piece of plastic. “Oh look, Maggie got you your own credit card. You won’t be allowed to use it when I’m with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I buy. Always. I’ll buy you anything you want, just ask.” That was the verbal response. The unsaid reason was, “Because I will take care of you. I am the master and you are the submissive. I own you and I will take care of my possessions.” Lisa handed over the card.
“For Samantha Springer. But it is a corporate card isn’t it?”
“Yes. You are going to be a Hawthorne employee, so you get a company credit card. So if you are off by yourself and you need to buy something, use this. Save your own money.”
“So what is my credit limit?” Sam asked half joking.
“You, my little pumpkin, don’t have a limit,” she said with a cute grin.
“Sweet!” Sam picked up his purse and set it his on his skirted lap. He took out his wallet and inserted the cards into appropriate locations and returned his wallet to his purse then decided to take out his lipstick and compact. Using the mirror in his compact, Sam touched up his lipstick, then put everything away.
Lisa watched Sam perform his girly ritual, and she smiled. “He looks so feminine and natural when he does that,” she thought. “What a beautiful find! And what fun! Boy, girl, courtesan, bride and then concubine. He was born for this life, and I am so lucky the good Lord has allowed me the privilege to guide him through his transformation into a stunning butterfly.”
“Anything else in there? This is getting fun. It’s like Christmas.”
“I have one more thing for you, but first I have to ask you something.”
“No.”
“Just wait a minute. You might agree for once.”
Sam laughed. “I always agree, whether I do or not.”
“As it should be,” Lisa agreed. “But I have a question. In 3 weeks we will finish finals, and then I will graduate.”
“From college?” Sam asked in surprise.
“Yes silly filly. What else would I graduate from?”
“But you’re only a junior,” Sam explained.
“Not exactly. True, this is my third year. But I had a tutor growing up and I went to a pretty impressive prep school. I came to college with lots of credits already. Plus, I spent a lot of summers collecting more credits. I am going to graduate.”
“Congratulations,” Sam said with little enthusiasm. He had been expecting to have another year at school with his girl friend. But as usual, Sam was wrong once again. Unbeknownst to Sam, he was never going to be allowed to spend another year at college, let alone with his pretty girl friend.
“Thank you,” Lisa replied. She could hear the disappointment in Sam’s voice, and she knew why. But she also knew a few other things as well. Sam would be going to school, sort of. He would have his own, full-time private tutor. She smiled in anticipation.
“For my graduation present, mom is going to let me go backpacking in Europe.”
This was going from bad to worse for Sam. “Backpacking?”
“Well, there is a chance that I might leave my luxury apartment with one of those purses that looks like a backpack,” she joked. “But mom said I could take someone with me. So I want to ask my two best friends to go with me.”
Sam’s heart fell and his stomach turned over. “She wants to take 2 people with her? Not one? Not me?” he thought to himself. Shucks was a mild term for what was going through his mind.
“Oh?” was all he could mutter.
“Yes,” she said enthusiastically. “I want to take Samantha and Sam. What do you think? Are you available?”
If it is possible for hearts and stomachs to do reverse maneuvers, his did. A big smile started spreading on his pretty face and he couldn’t control that smile. It gave him away immediately. “Me?”
“Of course, my silly bi-polar squeeze. You. We would spend 3 weeks there. Most of the time would be in Paris; the company has a comfortable apartment near the Eiffel Tower. But I also want to make a few day trips, and I want to take you to Switzerland for a couple of days. I’d like to introduce you to my sister. After all, you’ve been wearing her clothes for over a month now. So?”
Sam’s smile couldn’t get any bigger. “Absolutely! I would love to go to Paris with you.”
They leaned into each other and Lisa kissed Sam’s freshly colored lips. Lisa looked into her envelope and pulled out a black booklet. “Then you are going to need a passport.” She opened it and looked at the picture for a minute. “Maggie picked a very pretty picture of you. See?” and she handed the passport over to Sam.
“A pretty picture? Did she …” and Sam looked at the passport. He was a little stunned. “It’s for Samantha.”
“Yep.” She said proudly.
“But how? They need birth certificates and ... this even has my signature. Samantha’s signature. How did Maggie do this?”
“Well she has lots of pictures of you. And she borrowed your signature from the salon receipt book. She is very resourceful.”
“But how did she fake my birth certificate?”
“That’s just a minor problem for her. Remember who you are dealing with. And don’t forget, mom has a few contacts too. But you’re missing the biggest surprise.”
“And what’s that?”
“The color. Most passports are blue. Yours is black.”
“So what does that mean?”
“It means you don’t have to go through a line with the unwashed masses. It means no one can look at your luggage, and you have diplomatic immunity. You have a diplomatic passport Samantha.”
“Really?” It was all Sam could think of to say.
“Yep. You are now part of the privileged class.”
“Do you have one too?”
“Yep. Let me tell you, it makes going through airports a lot easier. The unwashed masses can be x-rayed, questioned, sniffed, and felt up by dirty megalomaniacs with a badge. We walk right by that trash.”
“Sweet.”
“Sweet indeed. Please give it back. I’ll put it back in the envelope and send it back to Maggie with the plane. She can put it in a safe place until we leave.” Sam reluctantly handed it over. Lisa slid it in the envelope and sealed it.
“Now, this weekend. Have you ever been to a Broadway play?”
Sam shook his head and grunted.
“I didn’t think so, so I picked two big production plays. Tonight we are going to see The Lion King. The music is decent but the way they portray the animals is remarkable. And tomorrow night we are going to the Phantom of the Opera. The singing there is truly impressive. I think you will like them both.
“Tonight we have dinner at a fancy, three-star restaurant. Maggie recommended it because the head chef is an old friend of hers from the CIA.”
“CIA? Oh wait, I remember. Chef school.”
“Culinary Institute of America. So we go eat, then we go to a show and then we go clubbing.”
“Are there any other guys going with us?” Sam was immediately suspicious.
“As I understand it, there will be two guys and two girls, but they aren’t together, they’re not couples. These are people Jeff works with and he wants to make an impression with them.”
“So we have dates?”
“No we don’t … not exactly. It’s like this …” but Sam interrupted.
“Lisa, I don’t fully understand why you and your family want to transform me into a girl. But I’ve been a pretty good sport about it. Haven’t I? I mean I’ve had, and still have some serious reservations about what I am doing and how I am dressing and acting and living, but I’ve gone along with it, right?” Lisa nodded and Sam continued, “But Lisa, I am heterosexual. I don’t like guys and I have no desire to be with guys. I don’t want to flirt with guys and pick them up. I don’t know how I can make this any plainer. I don’t want to go on a date with anyone but you. And if you insist on it, then I quit. I don’t care how rich you are, how much I like you or anything else. I don’t care how many diplomatic passports you can get. I am not queer! Period!”
“That’s not the way it’s going to be, Samantha.”
“I hope not, because I will not play spin the bottle with a guy, I will not dance with a guy, I won’t even make small talk with a guy if he thinks it’s a date or something. And no way am I going to kiss a guy, touch a guy or even smell one. I mean it!”
“Ok. I understand and it won’t happen.”
“If it does I’ll do … something. I swear I’ll make a scene that will bring the police. I’ll strip in public or something. I mean it Lisa.”
Lisa had to calm him down, “Ok, ok. I fully understand how you feel. I don’t blame you and I promise it will not happen, I promise.”
“I don’t even want to be left alone with a guy if he thinks I am available or anything.”
In her most soothing voice Lisa tried to calm her boy. “I understand totally. Nothing will happen, I promise. And let me explain something else. We will have a limo and chauffeur. A local guy, but he works for us, not Jeff. And he is also our body guard. He will follow us into the show and clubs and restaurant.”
“A body guard?”
“Yes, Samantha. We are valuable property and thus we are targets for all kinds of weird people. But don’t let that bother you, because we have protection. You have protection at school, we will have protection in Paris and we will especially have protection in New York City.”
Sam should have known this, but like the Hawthorne matriarchy facts that had already been placed in front of him, his lack of experience didn’t allow him to connect the dots. He was now a target. He was in the big leagues and he was still learning the rules.
“Do you have protection?” he asked Lisa
“Yes, but it isn’t always a body guard. I have GPS tracking devices in purses or shoes or belts, and I have other options. But we also have our privacy. This isn’t like the government snooping on us. This is for our protection and is never used unless necessary. Never.
“But the reason I told you this, is because you have the same protection. If someone, some guy starts bothering you too much, place your left hand palm down on your right shoulder.”
“Why?” he asked as he involuntarily went through the motion.
“It is our universal sign that you want help. The body guard will come to you immediately. He is at your disposal and he will protect you. Tell him what you want or need and he will take care of you. Understand? Ok? No one will bother you if you don’t want them around you. Alright?”
Sam looked straight ahead and fell back into his heated, leather seat. He had to digest what he had just heard. There was a down side to all of this money and glitz and glam. Never in his life would he have guessed that he might be in such a position. He had been enjoying the money and power of the Hawthornes, but he had been a bit player; someone on the periphery enjoying the power surrounding those at the center. But now he had just moved into the center. The bulls-eye. The maelstrom. It was a humbling thought.
With all the fun he just realized that there would also be consequences.
“Are you alright?” Lisa asked as she placed a hand on his shoulder. She could feel the bra strap beneath his blouse and she slid it around with her fingers. She squeezed his shoulder and rubbed it a little. He had fallen off the grid for several moments and she wasn’t sure why. “What’s wrong?”
Sam looked at Lisa and tried to verbalize his emotions. “Life just got more real,” he said.
“I’ve been playing a game, and I just found out that it is a real game.”
“You mean about bodyguards and such?”
“Yeah.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have worried you about that. It’s not as big a deal as you might think. But I wanted to try and comfort you about being with guys and stuff. Ok, there are some realities, but it doesn’t change anything between us.
“I am still in love with you, and I want to show you the grandest time in the world. I want to buy you things and take you places and show you off to people and brag about you and I promise I will protect you. But let’s not let it interfere with our lives.
“And that is something you have to learn. I’ve had my entire life to get used to this. I have never once had any problem or had to use my body guard. And I don’t see why you will have to use one either. It’s our security blanket, but don’t let it smother you. Live, love and enjoy. Don’t ever worry. Ok?” She gave Sam a heart felt smile. It was visible in her eyes, and Sam could see it.
Sam nodded and gave Lisa a smile.
“Good, that’s behind us. We are going to have a wonderful weekend in the Big Apple and then on Monday you go home. On Tuesday, Maggie has you set up for your first facial peel.”
“Facial peel? On Tuesday? But school.”
“You’re commuting by internet, remember? No problem. Let’s talk about it later.” Lisa herself wasn’t sure why Mona had insisted on setting it up so soon. But so be it.
Jeff picked up the girls at the corporate hangar at LaGuardia. He and the chauffeur loaded their valets into the car. Sam was especially interested in seeing what the chauffeur looked like. He wasn’t disappointed. The man was wearing a loose fitting uniform, but Sam could immediately tell that he had no neck and he was built like a wrestler — a real Olympic class wrestler. Chas and George were big men, but this guy looked down right dangerous.
Jeff had the chauffeur take a round about way back to his apartment so that he could give the girls a tour of upper Manhattan. He was very excited to have Lisa in town and he wanted to impress her by showing Sam a nice time. Jeff Winter was a very good family friend and was one of the very few people outside the family that was allowed to know the true situation concerning the Hawthorne matriarchy. And he would help in any way he could. He would even marry Lisa one day.
After their tour, Jeff took the girls back to his apartment. It was on the top floor of an expensive apartment in an expensive part of Manhattan. There were doormen and security cameras everywhere. It wasn’t something Sam would have noticed before, but he now had his eyes opened and he was beginning to see things he had never noticed before. They didn’t unload the car in an open area, but below ground in a parking area with limited access. Cameras watched the area and a rent-a-cop was sitting in a vehicle nearby.
Jeff took the girls up to his apartment and gave them the grand tour. Sam was impressed. It was nothing like Lisa’s home, but it was fancier than anything he had ever seen — at least in person. The apartment occupied one half of the entire floor, and not only did it have 4 bedrooms, but also four baths, and a grand room that contained the kitchen, eating nook, formal dining and living room.
The apartment was furnished in early bachelor-hood, but that is not to insinuate that it was cheap; just Spartan. The walls were bare of pictures and there were no plants or flowers in the apartment. But the dining room table was solid hickory and the living room furniture was totally oversized and covered with phenomenally soft leather. And like a typical bachelor pad, the entertainment center could have blown your shoes off.
By the time they had arrived and unpacked, it was pushing 4:00. “Time to get ready for dinner,” Jeff announced. “We have an early dinner at 6:00 and the show is at 8:00. Make yourself pretty girls,” he joked.
But it was no joke to Lisa. She intended to not only look extravagant, but she wanted the ultimate arm candy; Samantha dressed to wow and impress. She wanted Samantha dressed like a diva; only without the attitude. “Samantha, time for your bath. If you would please, use your perfumed bath gels. And no more than twenty minutes. I’ll help you with your makeup tonight.”
“Will you wash my back?” he asked with a silly grin.
Lisa grabbed his chin and gave him a little waggle. “If you are a really, really good girl — we’ll see later.”
“I’d rather be a bad girl,” he shot back.
Lisa gave him a naughty girl wiggle of her finger (every child in the world has seen the maneuver from her mother) and said, “Be careful what you wish for, you may get spanked! Now go get cleaned up and get perfumed up nice and sweet for me. I want a fragrant girl on my arm tonight. And I will help you with your corset. No cheating my little hourglass.”
Sam wasn’t in the tub for a second past fifteen minutes when Lisa, wrapped in her silk robe, walked across the apartment and pounded on Sam’s bathroom door. “Don’t dawdle! Your makeup is going to take some time.”
Sam stuck his tongue out and made a face towards the closed door. He urged his warm and relaxed body out of the bubble filled tub and wrapped himself in warm towels fresh off the towel warmer. He tossed his shower cap aside and shook his curls free. Looking in the mirror he gave himself an air kiss. “For a stupid boy you make a pretty girl. Stupid boy!” But then he gave himself a grin and a wink, “But we can handle it for a couple more weeks. Fucking eh; Paris! Holy shit! And a diplomatic passport! Welcome to the big time sister. Sister!” and he began laughing.
Sam then decided to do one of the most futile things imaginable; he shaved his face. A face with no whiskers left; a baby smooth and baby soft face. A face that was going to get even softer, clearer and more womanly-tender starting next week. Sam still didn’t realize that he was almost Samantha already, so he lathered up his face and pretended to shave. Thank god he didn’t knick himself. Lisa would have given him that spanking.
Sam smeared lotion over his entire body, using a special lotion for his hands and face, but for his arms, torso and legs he used the old tried-and-true lotion that he had been using for weeks. He walked out to his room and tossed his towels aside, then posed in front of his full length mirror. Sam was starting to look like a Samantha, and even he could see it. He had already lost over fifteen pounds, and it showed on his tummy and torso. Looking straight on, he could see a bit of a curve inwards around his waist and then back out around his hips.
“I guess I am getting a few curves,” he said aloud. “As much as that corset sucks, it does contour my beautiful and sexy body,” he said with a grin. Then he caught himself and added, “Stupid boy! Go dress like a girl!”
Sam opened up the boxes containing his large breast forms and set them on his dresser. He took his liquid adhesive and brushed it over the forms. Looking in the mirror, he then brushed the same adhesive over his chest. Applying it to the forms and his chest would make the forms stick extra tight. Being careful not to touch his sticky chest, Sam pulled on his corset liner and carefully lined up the single seam in the middle of his back.
Next came the rest of his lingerie. He pulled on bikini, silk panties, squeezed his testicles up into their body cavity, and tucked his flaccid penis between his legs. Holding his thighs tightly together to keep everything in place, he stepped into his padded girdle, pulled it up his smooth and hairless legs and pushed everything into a comfortable position. As strange as it may seem, with everything in their proper position Sam was comfortable. It had taken a couple of weeks to get to this point, but he was now comfortable with his tucked, constricted and glued-on figure.
Sam plopped onto his bed and rolled his first stocking into a donut. Being careful to keep the seam in the back, he rolled it up his smoothly waxed leg and situated the silicone grips around his upper leg. Actually, this was one of the odder and slightly uncomfortable feminine garments that he wore. But after a few minutes, the tightness of the silicone grips became part of his state of attire, and he didn’t notice anything.
Sam was at a holding point. Lisa wanted to tighten his white, full-length corset, so he couldn’t go any further. He sat down in front of the vanity and took out his hair brush. Lisa wanted Samantha to look sophisticated tonight, so she had told him to brush out his curls. So one by one, Sam picked out a curl, held it close to the root and attachment and brushed it out. He still wasn’t very good at doing this with his back curls, but he was getting better with those curls on top and on the side. He did his best to get his hair as wavy and flowing as possible. He would have to rely on Lisa to help with the back. No way would he ever look like Tyra, but he would look pretty.
Sam leaned back in his chair and announced, “I’m ready,” just at the same time that Lisa knocked on the door.
“It’s me, can I come in?”
“Yo Adrienne,” he yelled back.
Lisa came in and immediately said, “Go gargle, before we forget.” She had heard his voice and knew he needed that extra help that can only come out of a pharmaceutical device.
“Hi sweetie. You look edible.” Sam was happy to see his main — his only — squeeze all dressed up and especially cute.
“Do what I tell you tonight, and I might give you a bit of a nibble. Now go!”
Sam returned and Lisa said, “Let’s get your breast forms first.”
“Oh goody, tits.”
Lisa came to a screeching halt and glared at Sam. “These are not tits. If you want respect, then respect yourself. You’re not a slut or white trash, Samantha. Like it or not, you are now considered a Hawthorne. It’s a high level of attainment but you have the talent to achieve it. Don’t let us down, Samantha.” Lisa never — almost never — gave lectures. So this one caught Sam off guard.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re excited about going out and so am I, but we have to keep our wits about us. We’re going out to have fun, but we can’t ignore proper decorum. Remember, you are a very rich and classy lady. Now, let’s put on your … boobs,” and she gave Sam a little smile.
Sam stood in front of Lisa and she carefully placed the breast forms on his chest. She placed them just a few millimeters higher than they belonged, knowing that their weight would pull them down. “Hold them there, while I get your bra. Is it this one?” she asked as she picked up a red, lacy underwire. She helped Sam into his bra and she snapped it behind his back. Stepping back she surveyed their work and gave him a nod of approval.
“Corset. Hook it up girl.” Sam wrapped the corset around his waist and hooked the busks in the front. “Hands up,” Lisa instructed and she began working the laces in the back. She pulled, and worked them until she was ready for one last pull. “Exhale and up on your toes.” Sam reached for the sky and Lisa pulled as hard as she could, closing the corset all the way to its tightest. “Hold it, hold it,” and she tied it off. “Ok, show me what you’ve got.”
Sam turned around and gave Lisa one of the poses that she had taught him a couple of weeks back.
“Nice. Sexy. So petite,” she said like a little chant. “Where is that dress of yours.” Sam walked to the bed and picked it up. He held it in front of him and Lisa gave him her approval. “Let’s put it on.”
Sam had seemingly come to the decision that his best color was red. So he had brought a red dress with black polka dots, a big bow around the waist and extra ruffles around the cap sleeves and asymmetrical hem. The hemline ended high enough to give everyone an ample view of Sam’s thin and shapely legs.
Lisa couldn’t help but smile, and Sam noticed of course. “You like Lady?”
“Oh yes.”
Sam did a spin and showed off the merchandise. “Only ten dollar lady. All yours. Everything. Plenty sexy. Little something extra, just for you,” and he started laughing. “Sorry, no respect.”
Lisa gave him a hug and a kiss. “Humor is ok my precious little femme-fatale. I could tell there was no disrespect there. Funny. Now funny girl, heels and makeup.”
Lisa buckled up some over-sized black platforms for her paramour, since he couldn’t bend over that far in his corset. Then she sat him down for his makeover. “Something dark, something smoky, something red and something over the top. It’s the Big Apple girlfriend. We couldn’t be too dramatic no matter how hard we tried. So let’s try.”
Lisa picked up a bottle of foundation and spread a little on a cosmetic sponge. She began blending the foundation onto Sam’s face, giving him a very uniform complexion with no blemishes. His face looked shiny, so she used an over-sized brush to apply neutral powder over his full face. The amount of makeup was more than Sam’s skin required, and way more than Lisa would have used in daylight, but this was night time in New York City. Next she picked up a compact of blush that was redder than decency should have allowed. She made large red circles on Sam’s cheeks. It wasn’t clown level, but it was again overdone for normal circumstances. She used a slightly rosier color to blend in the edges, making Sam look a bit more respectable. Those rosy cheeks would be a wonderful compliment to Sam’s polka-dot dress.
Then Lisa turned her attention to Sam’s brows. She used a dark brown pencil to color in the brows, making them look a bit larger than they should have been. It fit with evening’s look.
“Before we go any further, curl your lashes,” and she picked up the curler and handed it to Sam. “But be careful, don’t pull any lashes loose. Four squeezes per lash.” When Sam was finished she took the curler and laid it on the counter. “Ok, now I don’t have to worry about you smearing anything. Lid foundation, where is it?” Sam spotted it and handed it to Lisa. “Samantha, are you watching what I’m doing?” she asked him.
“Absolutely. I’m mesmerized, but let’s be honest, I can’t do this. Not yet at least.”
“But soon girl, soon.” Lisa began spreading various shades of smoky gray shadow over Sam’s eye lids. She brushed the shadow a little wider than Sam’s eyes, giving his eyes a deep set appearance. Then she used a thin brush and a dark black to line his creases. Lisa stepped back and looked at his two eyes. “Ok, I can live with that. Can you?”
Sam looked in the mirror and saw his dark eyes. “Cool,” he said.
Lisa picked up a Kohl pencil and began lining the top and bottom lid. “Oh you are going to be dark and mysterious tonight my little heart breaker. The boys will go home crying.”
“That’s fine, because they’re not going home with me.”
“If you say so,” she teased. She took another small brush and smeared his liner to give it a softer look. Then to add to his already dramatic look, Lisa took a jet black liner with the tiniest brush possible and lined the inside of Sam’s lashes. She again stepped back and looked at her handiwork. “Damn I’m good sister.”
“Are we sisters now?” Sam asked with a giddy feeling.
“Of course, don’t you remember the party? Mom said you were her daughter. That makes us sisters.” They both laughed thinking back to that night so long ago. “Ok, last step here, mascara. You know how to do that. One coat now, and then another when we’re done with your lips.”
Lisa handed him a tube that she had brought with her. It was dark brown with flecks of gold glitter. Sam brushed on his first swipe and then stopped, looking into the mirror. “Is there something wrong with this?”
“Not at all, it has gold flecks for that little something extra. It’s New York glitz.”
“Weird, but ok.” Sam brushed on the mascara over both lashes, upper and lower, making his lashes thick and sparkling. With his attached lashes, his eyes were now beyond New York City Glam. They were bold, curled, thick, flashy … phenomenal. These were the proverbial eyes that pulled a guy — or girl — into them and the victim was never heard from again. Sam — Samantha — was there!
Sam finished and Lisa said, “One more coat when we finish your lips. Pucker just a little, I want to give you a deep cupid’s bow.” She used a lip liner to outline the outside edge of his lips, trying to make them a bit larger than normal. She used a redder than red lipstick to go with Sam’s rich red dress. Using a pot of lip gloss, Lisa used a brush to fill in Sam’s lips. The lip gloss would last longer and have a wetter, glossier look. She used two different colors, a slightly lighter color in the fat center of each lip, making them look even more pouty than normal. With his collagen enhanced lips, and Lisa’s makeup technique, Sam’s lips looked larger than life.
“You can apply your second coat of mascara and I’ll brush out the back of your hair. You know, you did a nice job in front.”
“Thanks,” Sam answered as he added more glitter to his lashes. Lisa brushed out his individual curls, then wove them together and gave him that older, more glamorous look that he had at his first party as Samantha.
Both girls looked at Sam’s reflection in the mirror. “Looking good girl,” Lisa complimented Sam. “Jewelry.”
Sam picked up a pair of solid red disks and inserted them in his pierced ear lobes. “Polka-dots for the ears,” he muttered. Then he added a black watch with a wide plastic strap. It had that tacky, but chic appearance.
Sam stood and twirled for Lisa. Without saying a word he asked for her opinion. “Awesome,” was the word. “We really did it right, Samantha. You look perfect for a night on the town in the Big Apple. Show me your nails.” Sam flashed his French nails for Lisa. “They need work. But that’s tomorrow’s story. Tonight we party. Perfume and throat spray and we are ready, ahead of schedule.”
But not much ahead of schedule, Jeff yelled from outside the bedroom, “Lisa we have to get going.” Lisa opened the door and stepped out wearing her LBD, with her hair tied up in back. “Cool,” he drawled. “Sexy woman!”
Lisa stepped in front of the bedroom door and announced, “Jeff Winter may I present Samantha, my dearest friend.” They both looked at the bedroom door and … nothing. “And now …”
Sam stepped out and held up his clutch purse. “Sorry, I was filling my purse,” he apologized. “Girl things, ya know.”
“Holy shit!” Jeff said under his breath. A big smile spread across his face as his eyes first scanned Sam from heels to eyes, then began undressing him.
Lisa slapped him on the arm. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, she belongs to me.”
Being a very good family friend, Jeff knew the score. “Can I buy her?” he joked.
“Not a chance in hell,” she answered.
Sam tapped his heel, placed a hand on his hip, posed with some attitude and said, “I am standing here you know!”
“Yes you are,” Jeff said. “And we should be moving. Do you girls have everything you need? We have to get going.”
They arrived at the restaurant two minutes late for their reservation. The other 4 people were already there and Jeff quickly made the introductions. They reached the maá®tre d’ and announced their identity. With a turned up nose the man said, “You’re late. Let me see if we still have a table for you,” and he walked away.
“Kind of snotty, isn’t he?” Sam said.
“This is New York, better get used to,” Jeff’s friend Michael said. He too sounded just a bit condescending.
The maá®tre d’ returned to Jeff and said, “We might have something in a few minutes.”
Jeff slipped him a twenty dollar bill and said, “We have a show to catch tonight.”
“Well you should have said something,” the man said snidely. “Right this way.”
The group was seated and began another wait. Some water boys showed up to fill their water glasses, but their waiter was no where to be found. Michael explained the situation to the two girls from out of town. “New York has its own rhythm. The better restaurants have waiters that sometimes work at their own pace. It is to be expected. That is why I recommended a 5:00 reservation.” He aimed his snide comment towards Jeff.
A few minutes later they finally got their waiter to show up. “Cocktails?” Jeff ordered two bottles of wine for the table. Then the waiter looked at Lisa and Sam and said, “May I see your ID please?” The girls handed over their driver licenses. “Out of town? Are these real? I’ll be back,” and he walked off with their licenses.
“I hope he doesn’t reject your out of state licenses,” Michael said. But his tone of voice indicated that it wouldn’t have bothered him in the least.
Lisa had had enough. She opened her purse and took out a card and pen. On the back of the card she wrote, “Chef Adams” and then put her purse away. “Taking notes?” Michael asked in his sarcastic voice.
Lisa ignored him and waved over a water boy. Using a heavy Southern drawl Lisa said, “Please be a honey and deliver this to the chef, please.” The water boy walked off and Lisa gave Sam a little covert wink. Michael snickered and said something under his breath to one of the other girls.
They waited less than two minutes before utter pandemonium broke loose. The chef came charging out of the kitchen followed by his two assistants. In a large voice he exclaimed, “Lisa! Miss Lisa Hawthorne! Welcome, welcome! My lord how you have grown. I haven’t seen you since you were ten years old. How is Maggie?”
Everyone at the table stared with their mouths open. Lisa stood and gave the chef a hug. “Maggie is just fine and she sends her warmest regards.”
“Why isn’t she here? Is she so important that she can’t come see an old friend from school?”
“I’ll tell her she needs to get here ASAP.”
“You do that. Does she still make that unholy chocolate concoction of caloric death?”
“Absolutely.”
The chef turned to his two assistants and said, “We went to the CIA together. Maggie Hawthorne makes the best chocolate soufflé on this planet.” Turning back to Lisa who had returned to her seat the chef asked, “Now Miss Lisa, what can I do for you?”
“Well, we have a show at 8:00 and we are running a little behind schedule.”
“Say no more. Do you like lamb?” The chef addressed the full table, “Lamb? Because I have chops that will melt in your mouth.” Everyone nodded their agreement. “I’ll have you out of here in no time. What else can I do for you Miss Lisa?”
“Well, I hate to tattle, but can we have another waiter? The current one seems to be missing in action, and he has our driver’s licenses.”
“What?” he yelled. He pointed to one of his assistants and said, “Get them now.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, it is a little trifle of very minor consequence. But I do believe that it should be brought to your attention. For the simple fact that we were two minutes late, my dear friend Jeff here had to buy this table for 20 dollars. Now you know the money is meaningless, but …”
“Miss Lisa, I apologize ten times over. I am ashamed. I am dishonored in the presence of Maggie Hawthorne’s daughter. The meal shall be on the house, and I will send you a proper waiter. I promise.” The chef stomped off and staff began charging around the place. First the waiter returned and apologized for holding the two licenses. Then the maá®tre d’ returned and in a barely audible voice apologized and handed Jeff a twenty dollar bill. Then two other waiters showed up with a wine much more expensive than the one Jeff had ordered.
Jeff looked at Lisa and grinned from ear to ear. They toasted each other with their wine and then Lisa turned to Michael and stared him in the eyes. With a heavy Southern drawl she said, “Just because we’re in a big city doesn’t mean people can’t show a little courtesy. Don’t you think?” She slammed him so hard that he didn’t say another word for the rest of the meal.
When things had calmed down a bit Sam leaned over and in a whisper said to Lisa, “Maggie’s daughter?”
Lisa had winced when Chef Adams had said that, but she had come up with a plausible response. “You’re Mona’s daughter,” and she gave Sam a smile and shrug of her shoulders. She was shrugging off the comment as just one of those things said in the heat of the moment. Sam accepted the explanation and dropped it from his mind.
They were indeed out of the restaurant in plenty of time to reach The Lion King. Sam was duly impressed with the production and the group managed to reunite in the lobby after the show. “Shall we go to a club? The Epitome?” Jeff asked.
The group all agreed, except Sam. He pulled Lisa off to the side and in a hushed tone asked, “Do we have to? I’d rather not.”
“Fine, you may return to the apartment,” Lisa said in a voice as cold as ice. “I’ll have the limo take you back.” She left a shocked Sam standing alone, as she walked over to Jeff and gave him the news.
“No problem,” he said loud enough for Sam to hear. To the full group he announced, “Miss Samantha will not be joining us for the remainder of the evening. The limo will return her to my apartment. The rest of us can catch a taxi. Shall we?” and he began ushering everyone outside.
Sam realized that he had just screwed the pooch. He tried to catch Lisa but she was already half way out the door. In a matter of a few moments Sam was left standing in the lobby with only the chauffeur. Not knowing what had transpired the man simply said, “This way miss.”
The group found a large SUV taxi. Sam and Lisa were in the front and the other four were in the back. “Is there a problem?” Jeff asked.
“Not really. He is getting a little defiant. He is a hopeless homophobe and he is afraid some guy will hit on him.”
“Well that will almost surely happen. He makes a very beautiful looking girl. So what will you do?”
“I’ll have to discipline him tomorrow, and hit him with a little guilt also. It’s no big deal. It’s part of the training. I knew it would show up sooner or later. I’m just sorry it showed up tonight,” she apologized.
“Not a problem,” Jeff answered. “You girls have this training thing all figured out don’t you?”
Lisa gave him a knowing smile.
The next morning Sam was sitting in the living room, curled up on an oversized chair. He was wearing his negligee and a long silk robe. Sam had been up and flipping through television channels for almost two hours. He was waiting to apologize to Lisa. About ten o’clock Lisa came out of her room. She was dressed and had her makeup on. As she walked across the room towards the kitchen and some orange juice, Sam said, “Good morning, Lisa.”
Lisa ignored him. She walked into the kitchen and helped herself to some juice. Then she returned to the living area and sat down in a chair facing Sam. “Please turn that drivel off,” she said in a cold voice. Sam clicked off the TV. Lisa sipped her juice and stared at Sam.
“I’m sorry about last night.” Sam tried to apologize but Lisa just stared at him, making him feel even more uncomfortable. “I just didn’t want to take a chance on …”
“Please be quiet,” she interrupted. She continued to glare at Sam for several minutes. Minutes! Sam was squirming in his chair. “I have never been so disappointed in my life,” she said with a tear in her eye and a slightly choked up voice. “I brought my best friend to New York City and she deserted me. I wanted to go out on the town with my best friend. My best friend! And she left me.
“And I know why she did it. It was stupid and selfish. Because she is a homophobe I had to spend the evening by myself.” She drained her juice and then stomped back to the kitchen to refill her glass. Sam watched her without saying a word. She took her time returning from the kitchen, then once again sat down and stared at Sam.
“You could have come back with me,” Sam said. “We could have …”
“What?” she loudly interrupted him. “Come back and screwed around? Just you and me? What about our host? Jeff is being a gracious host, opening his home to us and showing us around his town.” And then in her most sarcastic voice she asked, “Don’t you think that at least one of us should have played the gracious guest?”
Sam slumped in his chair. Lisa couldn’t have been more right, and she couldn’t have made her point any more bluntly. Sam felt ashamed. He was only starting to understand that he couldn’t just play the spoiled rich chick. There were real responsibilities in a real world. But just in case he didn’t understand that, Lisa told him.
“What you did last night was just plain rude. Jeff owes you nothing! He was trying to be an honorable friend and you slapped him in the face. You couldn’t even come up with a reasonable excuse. You wanted to come back and screw.
“And you’re a homophobe. I have gone to great expense and time and effort to help you look like a beautiful girl. You’re hot and sexy and I love being seen in public with you. Do you expect the rest of the world to miss that? Grow up! Learn to deal with it. Ask for a little help. I’ll show you how to turn a guy away. You don’t have to go fuck a guy on the dance floor! Is that what you think was going to happen?” Lisa was hot, but she was also calm, and she knew her vulgarity would have a strong impact on Sam. The combination of her voice and vocabulary punched the wind out of Sam.
“Go get dressed. You’re sitting in someone else’s house half dressed. I have things I want to do today.”
Sam stood and pulled his robe tightly around him. He thought for a few seconds and said in his most contrite voice possible, “I am sincerely sorry for my performance last night. I will apologize to Jeff as soon as I can. But most importantly I am sorry that I disappointed my best friend last night. I humbly ask that you forgive me and … help me become a better person … and a better girl.”
With out looking at him Lisa said, “I accept the apology and I will help you. But you better mean it.”
“With all my soul, I mean it.” He hesitated as if he wanted to say something else, then walked away to his room. Lisa didn’t gloat or smile. She had meant much of what she had said. But she had also realized something else; she didn’t enjoy disciplining her best friend.
By eleven they were in a taxi heading to Miss Michelle’s salon. “Appointment for two, the name is Lisa,” she told the receptionist.
The girl pulled up the proper computer screen and read, “Lisa, wash and set, facial and manicure. Samantha, facial, makeover and pedicure.”
“Slight change,” Lisa said. ‘Samantha will not have a facial and instead will have a pedicure and manicure. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes ma’am. It will take just a minute for the stylists to get ready. Please help yourself to coffee and Danish.”
They took a seat and Lisa turned to a very quiet Sam. “Samantha, since you are getting a peel on Tuesday, it might be best to skip your facial today. For your manicure, have her fill in your extensions, but drop the French nails. Have her round your tips and go with something red and glittery; something for an evening in New York City. If that is acceptable with you,” she added with a bit of sarcasm.
Sam picked up the sarcasm. “Yes ma’am,” he answered. “Lisa, can I ask a question?”
Lisa merely looked at him. “What kind of makeover do you want me to get; day or evening?”
“Will you be joining us tonight?”
“Lisa, I am really, really sorry about my stupidity last night. If you will have me I want with all my heart to join you tonight.” Sam was sincere and Lisa could hear it in his voice.
She refused to smile, but she lightened her tone, “Get the evening makeup. Let’s see if she can do better than we did last night.”
Sam smiled just a little and answered, “Not a chance.” Lisa gave him just the tiniest smile.
After their salon session, Lisa’s hair was up in an elegant updo and Sam had exquisite makeup and nails. Plus, he had a cute red ribbon in his hair. It pulled the hair off his forehead and gave him just a slightly more formal look. “A light lunch and then we have a two o’clock appointment.”
Sam didn’t even ask where. He knew he was still in the doghouse. Lisa took him to a vegetarian restaurant and bought him a salad. There was little talk at the table to begin with. Sam still felt bad and wanted to make amends. “Lisa, will you help me with something?”
“What?”
“How would a beautiful and refined lady such as yourself fend off an unwanted advance from a guy?”
She finished her chewing, swallowed and looked at Sam. “First off, he had better be a gentleman, and not some guy.”
“Of course.”
“Some guy deserves little in the way of manners, but he is probably your most dangerous situation. Some guy might be a little drunk and even belligerent. He might be showing off for a friend. You have to be careful with some guy. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“First off, if you see him coming, turn away. If there is someone with you, talk with her. If not, walk towards the ladies room, and don’t waste any time dawdling. If he catches you, act surprised. Say, “I’m sorry, I thought you were my boy friend. I thought he was returning with our drinks.” Most likely that won’t work. He has probably been watching you and hasn’t seen another guy around.
“Tactic two, you are meeting someone else. Or you are about to leave to meet your boyfriend some place else. Wave to someone across the room and announce, “There he is. That big guy that plays professional football.” That is a little over the top and usually not very effective. But the idea is to make him realize that you are not alone and you are not available.
“At the first chance you get, walk away. At this point you don’t even have to make an excuse. Turn and walk. Almost never will he follow you. Even for most drunks, they get the point at this time. But walk with purpose and do not run. Wild animals chase prey that runs.
“Don’t get sarcastic or insulting with the guy. Sometimes that works, but if it doesn’t it only serves to piss him off. And some of them, especially the inebriated ones, can be ornery and physical. The last thing you want to do is have to call over your body guard. When that happens you might as well leave also, because the entire place has now marked you as someone to avoid.
“And when you get better, you can do all of that with a look. You look him in the eye, survey his clothes and the way he stands, then you step back and say, “No thank you.” When you get really good, you don’t even have to speak. You simply look him over, then walk away. But be careful here, you have to be very confident that you can pull this tactic off.
“It usually helps to smile when you talk with some guy. But make it a smile that marks you as superior. A small smile with no teeth. Always respond slowly as if you have taken his measure. Never yell or get abusive. If you need to do that, call your body guard. And be aware of your body language. This is a key point. Never get defensive. Never cross your arms, lower your eyes or look down, or hold your hands in front of you. Don’t grip your purse like you are trying to protect it. Always look at him and make him understand that you are more than his equal. We can practice this, because it is very important. If it comes to a stare down, you have to win.
“And finally, if it is not some guy, but a gentleman, compliment him but say that you are not interested. A gentleman will walk away. If he doesn’t walk away, then he is not a gentleman and you go back to the other tactics.”
Sam listened and took it all in. He truly needed to know these things. “Thank you. There is much more to this than I ever dreamed.”
Lisa accepted his apology once more. “Samantha, I will teach you these things. I want you to be safe, that is my absolute first requirement. But then I want you to be confident. Confident in your surroundings, your dress and with your sex. In public you are a girl after all. And you are a very beautiful girl. Everyone is going to notice you, and that includes the boys; the good, the bad and the ugly. Beauty can intimidate, and that really is your first line of defense. Only the better looking and better heeled boys are going to make a move on you — usually; 90 percent of the time. It’s the other ten percent that you need to be prepared to handle. And trust me, you have the ability to do that. You’ve already handled a United Stated Senator.
“You are always so afraid of some guying coming on to you. If you learn how to do this, you accept the compliment that he is paying you, then you simply dismiss him. It doesn’t have to be a drama. Understand?”
“I am trying.”
“Good. We need to get moving. Our next stop is at the jewelry store.”
It was a smaller size store, but it had all the look of a very high-end shop. When they arrived, Lisa immediately walked up to the front counter and handed the man her card. “I believe that we have an appointment with Louis,” she said.
The shopkeeper looked at the card and replied, “Yes ma’am you do. Please let me take you to him.” The man moved out at a fast pace and while he walked behind the long counter, Lisa and Sam followed on the customer side. He took them through a door into a small room in the back. The room had a single table in the center with two Tiffany lamps sitting on either end and an oval mirror in the center. Around the table were two comfortable upholstered chairs. A man was waiting for them.
“I am Louis,” and he offered his hand to the girls. Lisa reached him first and introduced herself and then Samantha. “It is an honor to have you here Miss Lisa. May I offer you tea or a soft drink?”
The two girls respectively declined. With the girls seated and Louis standing on the other side of the table he said, “Shall we get down to business then? I understand that you are looking for diamond earrings.”
“Yes,” Lisa began, “And I am also looking for one other item, but first the earrings. I want something in the 5 to 10 carat range for each earring, and I am thinking of something in a cluster, but I am also open to a drop style. I am also thinking of a main or central diamond surrounded with others, but I am not looking for chips. I want something substantial that has lasting appeal. This is to be an heirloom. Nothing avant-garde.”
“Yes ma’am. And do you have a price range?”
“I will go to 6 figures, but not over $250,000. We will take the earrings with us, but I will have them independently appraised. I want quality diamonds and I will return if they don’t meet the appraisal.”
“Yes ma’am, I understand. Is there anything else before we begin?”
“No.”
“Then excuse me while I bring in the first group.” Louis left by a side door.
“How much are you spending?” Samantha asked in awe.
“As little as possible.”
“But you said a quarter of a million dollars! My god!”
“You are worth it, aren’t you?” she asked with a perfectly straight face and not even a hint of a smile or grin.
Sam blinked several times before he dared speak. “They’re for me?”
“Of course. I know you like expensive jewelry, and you have no earrings for this evening.” Then she broke into a small smile. “I intend to show off my best girlfriend tonight. I want her looking breath taking.”
Samantha fell back into her chair and exhaled. “Wow.”
Louis returned with several velvet cases. He pushed the mirror slightly off center towards Lisa and pulled the lamps closer to her. “Do you wish for a jeweler’s loupe?” he asked Lisa.
“That won’t be necessary. I am no expert on gem quality. I will have them appraised for that.” Lisa slid the mirror closer to Samantha and added, “The earrings are for my friend.”
“Yes ma’am.” Like a good salesman, he turned his attention to Samantha. Opening the box he lifted out the first earring and showed it to Sam. “This is a 5 carat arrangement with a 3 carat diamond in the center. The setting is platinum and each diamond is rated at VS or better for clarity and F or better for color.”
“What is VS?” Sam asked.
“A diamond is rated for internal flaws. The highest is F for flawless. That would be a very expensive diamond; investment quality in fact. The VS rating is a few steps lower. It is still a very high quality and expensive diamond.”
And what does F mean for color?”
“It is one of the three highest ratings for color. It means the diamond has essentially no color.”
“And no color is better?”
“It may depend on the buyer’s preference. But in this case, clearer is better ma’am.”
“Do you like the earring, Samantha? You can either try it on or look for something else.”
“Let me try it and see.” Sam didn’t know if he liked it or not, but he wanted to put it on just to see himself with such an expensive earring. He slipped on both earrings and looked at himself in the mirror.
“What does my lady think?” the salesman asked.
“I’m not sure,” Sam answered. “How much does it cost?”
Lisa spoke immediately, “Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll handle that. You’re job is to pick out the pair that you like the most. Louis, let’s look at the next pair.”
They inspected at least 25 pair before they made even their first decision. They decided that Sam would look best with a cluster rather than a drop earring. And they thought it would be less likely to get tangled in hair. Louis gathered several of the cases, left a few, and left to collect more earrings.
“Are you leaning towards any?” Lisa asked.
“I don’t know anything about earrings, let alone diamonds,” Sam sighed. “This stuff is way over my head.”
“It may be the first time you have looked at diamonds, but I will not let you use that excuse to evade making a decision. You are in the big leagues now, and you won’t always be an expert on the topic du jour. You must start making some decisions concerning your appearance. In the future I want you taking more responsibility for your hair and makeup and clothing. You will need to establish your own style and aura.
“Don’t be afraid, you can’t go wrong here. You won’t be cheated on quality.”
“Ok. But you might not like what I pick out,” he warned.
“Yes I will.”
Sam took a deep breath and said, “I like the larger, round ones, with the big central diamond. They seem simpler in design and more classic. The curvy designs seem too … flashy … or modern. Modern isn’t the right word, but it conveys less sophistication and fewer years of acceptance. Am I making sense?”
“I know exactly what you are saying; simple and classic without excessive design flair interfering with the diamond’s simple beauty. It makes perfect sense and shows a keen understanding of what you are looking for. So what’s the problem?”
Sam giggled, “I like the big ones. I expect they are the most expensive.”
“Not necessarily, but don’t worry about it. We can cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Louis returned with two more cases and opened them for Sam. They spent another half hour looking through the new earrings, and comparing them with the favorites from the previous groups. It took close to two hours for Sam to make his final decision.
“Are you sure?” Lisa asked.
“Yes.”
“Sir what is the cost, please?”
“Well this pair is a little more than we had previously discussed. It is marked at $400,000.”
Sam gave a small gasp, but Lisa said nothing. She looked at Louis with eyes of cold, hard blue steel. She waited several moments before she spoke, and her tone was as ice cold as Sam had heard that morning. “Is this how you do business, sir? I laid out my terms at the beginning of our meeting. I specifically told you nothing over $250,000, did I not?”
“Yes ma’am, but then we began looking at additional features …”
Lisa quietly cut him off. “I do not care about additional features. I bargained with you in good faith. I gave you my price and I did not think that I had to continuously discuss the topic with you. I was clear in my instructions, and I thought you had the ability and honor to remember also.
“But now I am handed the oldest sales trick in the book. Is that what you want me telling people? You came highly recommended by a very dear friend. Do you want me to tell her that you betrayed her trust in your dealings with me? If you insist on using these tactics with me, she will feel the ignominy every bit as much as you should. I can assure you, you will never get another referral from her or me … or our family.” Lisa finished and stared him in the eye.
“Ma’am, perhaps we could look at this pair here?” And he held up another pair that had almost made the final cut.
Lisa slowly stood and never took her eyes off Louis. “My friend picked out this pair here. I will not insult her by asking her to accept a lesser choice. And I am insulted that you would even suggest something so crass to me. Mr. Louis, you disgrace yourself and your establishment.”
Lisa motioned at Sam and said, “Samantha, we have overstayed our welcome.”
Louis was getting more than a bit nervous. Lisa and Samantha were out of the inspection room and marching through the front shop area when Louis called to Lisa. “Ma’am, who may I ask referred you to us?”
Lisa came to a stop. Slowly she turned around and looked at Mr. Louis. “My grandmother, Miss Grace Hawthorne.”
Louis’ heart stopped and his hand flew to his pocket. He pulled out Lisa’s card to look at it and put two and two together. “$225,000 ma’am. I apologize for taking so much of your time. May I have it wrapped for you?”
Sam started to smile until he saw Lisa’s face. She was still had her game face on. “I will have it appraised,” she warned.
“I appraise Miss Grace’s jewelry,” he complained.
“I guess this isn’t Miss Grace’s purchase, is it?”
“When you came in, you said you had two items that you wanted to purchase. What is the second item, please?”
Lisa looked at her watch and grimaced. “We’re out of time.”
Louis was behind the counter running around putting together the paperwork for Lisa’s purchase. “The paperwork will take a few minutes, can I show you something quickly?”
Lisa reconsidered. “An engagement ring, simple and no more than $25,000.”
Sam almost twisted a neck muscle as he swung around to look at Lisa. She gave him a quick negative nod and mouthed, “No. Later.”
Louis pushed the paperwork to his clerk and almost ran to the back counter. He pulled out two cases and quickly brought them up to the front counter and opened them. “These are two carats or more, and all over $25,000. I will sell anyone of them for $25,000. Please take a look at them ma’am. I am sure you will see something you like.”
Lisa took Sam’s arm and led him over to the counter. “Samantha, I’m looking for a decoy for you. Do you see anything that you like?”
For some strange reason Sam’s heart dropped. Why he should suddenly be so disappointed confused him. He was the man and Lisa was the girl. He should buy her an engagement ring, not the other way around. And he quickly understood Lisa’s purpose. So why should that have disappointed Sam? Or Samantha? It made no sense, but yet … there it was.
“What size ring do you wear ma’am?”
“I don’t know.”
“Here, let me check,” and Louis pulled out a group of rings and took Sam’s hand. He started sliding on and off different rings until he found the correct size. He dropped to his knees and went through his counter to find another case of rings. “This case, and these over here will fit you or can be easily adjusted. Please try this one, it is 14 karat gold with a 250 point diamond. It is top quality.”
“250 point?” Sam asked.
“That’s 2 and ½ karat, with excellent clarity and an exceptional cut. It will appraise at over $40,000. I guarantee that.”
The clerk brought over Lisa’s paperwork. It was almost 4:30. “We have a 6 o’clock dinner reservation Samantha. Do you see anything you like? You have to make a decision now.”
“This one,” he said as he slid a ring onto his finger to make sure that it fit. “Yes, this one will work.” He sounded surprised, pleased and disappointed all at the same time. Sam was conflicted and he still didn’t understand why.
“I’m sorry but we re out of time. Can you adjust this check and change it to $250,000?”
“Yes ma’am immediately.”
“Can someone get a taxi for us?”
“Absolutely,” and Louis pushed the clerk outside while he took over the paperwork. “Ma’am I am extremely sorry for our earlier misunderstanding and I hope you will come back and see us again.”
Lisa said nothing to Louis. She signed the last blank and asked, “Samantha, do you have your gifts? Then we must go now. Good day Mr. Louis.”
Sam followed Lisa outside where the clerk was holding a taxi door open and chasing away other people. “Thank you,” Lisa said as she slid in the taxi and gave the driver Jeff’s address.
It took only ten minutes to get to Jeff’s, but Sam was firing questions at Lisa non-stop.
First he thanked her profusely. “I know you like expensive jewelry,” she said as she answered his first thank you. “And I wish we had more time for picking out an engagement ring. It should help you keep the guys away. Flash it at them when they come up to you.”
“You really surprised me. At first I thought …” Sam closed his mouth.
Lisa was now the surprised half of the duo. She gave him a nice smile and asked, “What? What were you thinking?”
Sam turned red and shook his head no. “Nothing,” he said.
Lisa leaned over and gave Sam a gentle kiss. She didn’t want to mess his makeup. “If I were to give you …” and she came to an awkward stop.
The two sat in silence for only a moment and Sam changed the subject. “What happened back there? Was he trying to cheat you on the earrings?”
“I don’t know if he was trying to cheat me. I’ll know better when we appraise your earrings. But he definitely thought he was dealing with some naive Southern girls and he was going to try and take advantage of us. He thought we were going to be a push over. Ha!” she clucked.
“So I don’t understand why he caved so fast. He had your card, he knew who you were, didn’t he?”
“No he didn’t,” Lisa explained. She opened her purse and took out one of her cards. She handed it to Sam and said, “He didn’t know who I was. A girl never puts her last name on a personal card. And when I made my appointment, I gave them my bank and banker’s name, but I never identified myself.”
Sam looked at the card. In the middle it said, “Miss Lisa H.” In the bottom right corner it said “West Hill, Virginia” and in the other corner a telephone number. “I don’t recognize your phone number,” he said.
“That’s the direct line to mom’s executive secretary. I kind of use her for some things.”
“So he had no idea.” Sam observed. “And he didn’t know who your grandmother was, did he?”
“No he did not. And that is the way that I wanted it. I was hoping to make the purchase by myself. But he thought he had some dumb, rich hicks in his office. He really thought he could roll over us. I didn’t want to bring up grandmother’s name, but it served him right.”
“So I have some new jewelry. Wow! Thank you. Lisa, how can you spend so much money? Do you have to get permission?”
“Yes and no. Yes I have to alert Aunt Michelle when I want to spend that much money, but nobody in the family is ever turned down for anything. We don’t even keep track of who spends the most.”
“My gosh, I could buy two houses for what you spent, and I bet it didn’t even cause you to blink.”
“But not the kind of house that you deserve.”
“You don’t know how I grew up, Lisa. I would go wild if I could buy a house for half that amount.”
Lisa looked at Sam and started to wonder how he had grown up. She had been briefed on Mona’s conversation with Sam, and Maggie had found a few other items, but Sam’s history pretty much was a mystery to her. “You deserve more,” she said.
“Why? Because I wear a dress and look like a pretty girl?”
“No! Because I really like you. You are a really nice and decent person, and nice and decent people deserve a break now and then. Good things can happen to good people. Don’t think you don’t deserve good things, Samantha. You do.”
They reached the apartment and Lisa said, “Let’s hurry. We have less than an hour to get dressed.”
They barely made the deadline. Sam’s makeover at the salon saved the day, even though Lisa had to make some touch ups. Sam switched to his red lipstick and it went great with his second red dress, which featured a halter style with a neckline that wasn’t cut too low. It tucked in at the waist and flared out to an asymmetrical hemline that hung from below one knee to above the other knee. Around the hem were extra ruffles for more flow and flair.
Sam wore suntan stockings and three inch, open-toed heels that had a simple strap behind the heel. He enjoyed putting on his new earrings, but he hesitated when putting on his new ring; his fake engagement ring. Why it should have bothered him he could not fathom. But there was disappointment and sadness when he slipped it on his ring finger.
It looked beautiful, and it was big enough and expensive enough to be noticeable enough to any boy that might approach him. It would serve him well. But it still bothered Sam. “What did you expect?” he asked his reflection in the mirror. “Did you really think she was … proposing? Stupid boy! Boys propose, even poor ones; not their girlfriend.”
He aggressively pushed his chair back from the vanity and stood. “God! You really are becoming a girl, aren’t you? You femme!” he spat at the mirror.
Sam picked up his purse and left his bedroom to join the other two in the living room. “Sweet!” Jeff complimented him as he entered their room. “You must really like red. But then again, I can see why.” With surprise in his voice and a big smile on his face Jeff exclaimed, “Samantha, you got some new jewelry today!”
Sam returned the smile and swung his head so that Jeff could see both earrings. “Yes, I did. Lisa was feeling especially generous today, and she bought me these diamond earrings. Do you like them?”
“They look lovely, but I was looking at your hand, and especially your ring finger. Did you two …?”
Sam turned red and let Lisa answer the question. “It’s a decoy for Samantha, to help keep rogue guys away from her in public.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. But … you two do seem to be made for one another. Maybe next time,” he chirped. “But now we have to get our tails in gear. Fortunately, the restaurant isn’t far, and it is straight across the street from the theater. Let’s go girls,” and he ushered them out the door and down to the waiting limo.
At the restaurant they met up with two couples from Jeff’s company. This night, their guests really were couples. Introductions were made and Jeff led them to the maá®tre d’.
The evening’s dinner progressed more smoothly than the previous evening, and even with their tight schedule, they made it to their seats for the Phantom of the Opera.
“Samantha, what did you think of the play?” someone asked.
“It’s only the second play, real play that I’ve ever seen. I really liked the way they portrayed the animals last night. That was pretty clever. But I still like the set and production tonight. And the singing was awesome. I always thought that I would gag on opera, but those actors could really sing. I liked it. The music was good.”
Lisa wrapped her arm through Sam’s and pulled him close to her. Both of the other women gave them an odd look, but neither said a word. All through the meal Lisa and Sam’s body language had been more than friendly, considering that they were both “girls”. But neither Lisa nor Sam cared. Only one thing bothered Sam, and he couldn’t understand why. Or actually, and worse, he could. It was the ring. A $25,000 engagement ring that meant … nothing! Damn it! It meant nothing! More money than he and his mom had in their entire life. And Lisa had spent that much money on Sam and it meant … nothing!
What was he supposed to think? How was he supposed to feel? He wasn’t a trollop. He wasn’t a prostitute. And he certainly didn’t feel like a money-grubbing mistress. Lisa wasn’t even married, so she didn’t need a mistress. Or a boy version of a mistress … a boy dressed and acting like a girl that is. What the hell was he? A sissy? A transvestite? A screwed up, mentally disturbed, effeminate wimp? This just wasn’t right! And that ring. This ring. This … weird, strange, screwed up boy-girl was in love.
Lisa’s conditioning and training were working. She would have loved to be in his mind this night, but she didn’t even realize how much she had screwed up her feminized boy with her ring purchase. Lisa thought she was helping her shy homophobe feel safer, and instead she had destabilized his emotions. In the long run these things would definitely work to her advantage. But tonight, her boy was struggling with his emotions. He wasn’t sure why, and she was in the dark.
Lisa shook Sam’s arm. “Samantha, are you still with us?” Sam had zoned out for a few minutes. “So what do you think?”
“Uhm … I wasn’t listening. I was looking at the bright lights. You know; New York City and the Big Apple.”
“It’s a great city. Amazing isn’t it?” one of the girls tried to brag. Sam didn’t care one iota about the Big Apple. There was only one important thing on his mind, and she was holding onto his arm and his entire self-worth.
“Jeff it’s your call,” Lisa said and she shook Sam back into this universe.
“The Village it is,” and he waved over the chauffeur. “We can all fit in the limo, this way folks.” Sam went with Lisa only because she was pulling him along.
They fell behind the others and Lisa shook her boy back to consciousness. “Are you alright?”
“Oh yeah. I guess the fresh air and the wine just slowed me down for a minute. I’m ok. Where are we going?”
“Clubbing. Is that ok with you?”
“Yeah of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Last night?”
“Lisa, I am sorry about last night. I learned my lesson. I grew up. It will never happen again.” She pulled him into the limo and they set off for their first club.
The evening was successful for Jeff and his friends. Lisa and Sam duly impressed everyone, and the evening passed without incident; at lease as far as Sam was concerned. A few men approached them during the evening and Lisa handled them quickly. Sam didn’t have to deal with anyone but himself. And as much as he tried to stay in the moment, Sam was not himself. The ring on his finger was a constant reminder of his situation and status with Lisa.
He remembered the red dress party at Miss Grace’s when Lisa had explained that he was a courtesan to Lisa. The dictionary defined courtesan as a prostitute consorting with a rich man or nobleman. The description fit well. Lisa was a rich noblewoman, and Sam provided her with sex. Did courtesans ever get married?
But as the evening moved along he tried to put his self-pity out of his mind and he was hoping, even anticipating, their return to Jeff’s. Sam was hoping to apologize properly to Lisa. Even if he was just a feminized male courtesan, he was going to do his best to please his noble woman — his princess.
They didn’t return to Jeff’s until past one o’clock. As they walked into the building, Lisa and Sam dawdled behind Jeff. “Samantha, get ready for bed, then come to my room. Keep that pretty ribbon in your hair, if you would please,” Lisa instructed Sam.
“Do you want me in makeup? Should I wear a bra?”
“No, not tonight. You can take off your corset too. Clean up first, then come see me. But don’t take too long, I might fall asleep.”
Sam didn’t intend on taking too much time. First things first, he removed his earrings and ring and carefully placed them in their velvet boxes. He stripped down and left his clothes lying on the bed. It felt good to get out of his corset and for some reason his heels had bothered him during the evening. Maybe they were a bit tight. He removed his makeup and washed and moisturized his face the way he had been taught. Sam quickly moved back into his room and found a beige cami top and tap pants to wear. As he pulled the top over his head he could feel his glued-on breast forms bouncing around. As much as he continuously reminded himself that he wasn’t a girl, he enjoyed the feel and bounce of his breasts. They made him feel especially feminine, and he found that feeling just fine. Sam was horny and the anticipation of sex with Lisa had made the world right again.
Just for good measure, he spritzed himself with “their” perfume, before he left for his assignation. He cracked his bedroom door and peaked out to make sure Jeff wasn’t watching. He hurriedly skipped across the room, his breasts and erect penis bouncing inside their silky smooth lingerie and making him even more excited. He knocked lightly on Lisa’s door and waited for her acknowledgement.
“Come in Samantha.” Sam quickly ducked in the door and closed it behind him. The only light in the room was the night lamp by Lisa’s bed. She was already lying in bed and waiting for her filly; her effeminate boy. She was wearing a short, see-through babydoll with no panties. The pillows were propped up at the headboard and she was sitting with her legs spread. She patted the satin sheet between her wide open legs, but said nothing. She didn’t have to speak, Sam knew what to do.
Sam slid between her legs and pushed his manicured hands under her wonderfully soft buttocks. He took a deep breath and enjoyed her fragrance, then looked up to his lover with a big smile on his face. “How may I please you, Lisa?”
“Samantha, I would like you to perform cunnilingus on me. I am especially wet and horny tonight, and I want you to perform your magic on me. Show me how gentle and loving, how feminine and soft, and how slow and deliberate you can be as you satisfy these sexual cravings I have. Please make me happy, Samantha.”
“Your wish is my command,” Sam said.
“As it should be my perfumed lover. Yes, I smelled your perfume when you entered my boudoir. It was a very thoughtful touch, Samantha. Now, start with a kiss of exquisite softness and with just the slightest touch of your tongue. Tickle my clitoris and tease me.”
Sam squeezed and lifted Lisa’s buttocks, then softly kissed and licked the labia and then the clitoris of the beautiful woman lying before him. He listened to Lisa’s instructions and performed at her desired pace. He enjoyed the taste and fragrance of her juices and he responded to the pheromones they contained. Sam’s penis was engorged and it ached to be inside Lisa; satisfying both Lisa and Sam. But Sam knew better than to placate that aching by rubbing himself against the smooth satin sheets. He could wait for his turn.
Instead, Sam concentrated on the task in hand. He would lick and suck and flick and tickle with this mouth and lips and tongue, then pause to allow his lover to fully enjoy the exquisitely sensitive stimulation that Sam was providing. Lisa was approaching rapture and Sam was concentrating with every ounce of his attention on bringing Lisa to that point. Sam had to be perfect tonight. Lisa had to explode with the ecstasy of a thousand orgasms and then beg for more. Tonight Sam had to prove his worth and value to his lady and princess. He must prove that he was more than a courtesan. Sam had to show Lisa that he was worth a real engagement ring. He had to!
Lisa heaved off the bed and half lifted Sam at the same time. Her hips thrust towards the heavens in passionate spasms of lustful force and desire and … and finally satisfaction. She bit her lip to stop herself from screaming in ecstasy and waking the denizens of the city … and her host. She held her breath during her spasms, then panted in fatigue at the enormous energy she had expended in driving out her lust and primal emotions. Heavy with sweat and still shivering with the after effects of her orgasm, Lisa fell into her bed with the complete satisfaction of a well sexed woman.
Sam had performed admirably. He deserved a trophy and ribbon. With her eyes still screwed tightly shut, Lisa reached down to pat her lover on his head; to stroke his soft and curly hair, and to tease and pull on the bright red ribbon in his hair. There was his ribbon. No trophy, but a ribbon was there. Lisa opened her eyes and smiled at her benefactor. Sam returned her smile as Lisa untied Sam’s ribbon and pulled it out of his hair. Sam watched as she snaked it up her body and over her dew dripped breast.
She held the ribbon in her hand for several moments before she spoke. “Samantha, you were wonderful. You have no idea what you did to me tonight. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
Sam smiled and said, “It was my pleasure.” Now it was his turn. His aching and straining penis would soon be treated to the tactile administrations of a beautiful and gentle woman. Lisa would thank him for his labor of love. Would she go down on him and provide a blow job? Or would she pull him into her and ride him like a wild stallion? Sam was aching with anticipation.
Lisa spoke, “I am very tired and sleepy from all that effort. You may return to your room now, Samantha.”
Sam jerked up and with eyes and mouth wide open and he stared at Lisa. “What? Why? Did I do something wrong?” And then with a horrible and pathetic voice he asked, “Are you breaking up with me? Lisa?” He was almost in a panic, and he sounded absolutely pathetic.
“No! I am not breaking up with you Samantha. I love you. But yes, you did do something wrong.”
“What, I’m sorry. Let me try again.”
It took Lisa a moment to understand where Sam was coming from. He thought he had done something wrong in bed. He was afraid that he hadn’t properly pleased Lisa, and was being punished for his mistake. “It wasn’t something you did wrong tonight. You were wonderful and you make a phenomenal lover. It’s what you did last night. I am still upset with what you did last night. There are consequences for what you did last night. I’m sorry Samantha, but no sex. Not tonight for sure.”
Sam slumped and looked like he had been kicked in the solar plexus. “But … but … I went down on you. I gave you everything you wanted.” He slumped even further and Lisa remained silent. “It’s not fair,” he whined.
“Dumping me last night and leaving me alone wasn’t fair either,” she shot back. “And why should I suffer for your transgressions? I did nothing wrong, so why shouldn’t I receive some sexual attention and ministrations?”
“But Lisa, I told you I was sorry; very, very sorry. I learned my lesson. Really.”
“Well now there will be no doubt about it. And let me get this straight, you gave me oral sex because you expected me to reciprocate? That’s the only reason?”
“No! Of course not! I did it to please you. I … really, truly like … love you Lisa. I did it to please you. I do everything to please you. I dress like a girl to please you. Who else in the world would even think of doing such a thing?” Sam came to a stop and remained silent.
“I’m sorry Samantha, my mind is made up. This hurts me just as much as it does you. After your wonderful warm-up performance, you have no idea how badly I want to mount you and take you inside me. I am dieing to have sex with you. But I can’t and I won’t. I know you are anxious also. But I’m sorry. Last night has consequences for both of us. You can go back to your room and masturbate.”
“What? No! That’s not right! That’s not fair to you … as my … as my girlfriend and lover. I can’t do that! That’s wasting … myself.”
“Come on Samantha. We both know that 99.9% of all guys masturbate. Are you telling me that you are in that 0.1% group?” she asked sarcastically.
Quietly, “No. But I don’t want to do that. I’d rather not go back to my room and leave … leave both of us like this.” He was pleading.
Both of them were silent for a moment, then Lisa had another one of her brainstorms.
“This will be fantastic,” she thought to herself. “What an opportunity to exert even more control over Sam and his penis!”
“Ok, you don’t have to go back to your room. You can stay here and masturbate.”
“Huh?” Sam couldn’t believe what he had heard. This was utterly ridiculous.
“You can stay here for the night, and maybe tomorrow morning we can see if you are still on probation or not. But!” And she emphasized the but very strongly. “You have to masturbate in front of me.”
“But why? That’s … that’s just wrong; just weird.”
“I’ve never seen a boy masturbate before. I want to see what it looks like. I want to know how you do it. And I might learn something.”
“Learn something? Girls don’t masturbate … at least not like boys.”
“Not for me silly filly, for you. I might learn what pleases you. Who knows how to please you better than yourself? I want to watch what you do, and maybe I can use that for you some other time.” Lisa steeled her voice and said, “That’s the deal. You can stay here if and only if you let me watch you masturbate. And you have to be serious about it. I want to see how boys really masturbate and what they do.
“If you do that, then you can spend the evening — but there will be no sex! Tomorrow morning, we will see. No more negotiating. Those are my terms. Stay and demonstrate how a guy, how you masturbate, or go back to your room.”
“But Lisa … come on, this isn’t the way it should be between a boy and a girl.”
“Final chance. Yes or no. Are you leaving or staying? One chance, Samantha.” Lisa sat up straighter in her bed and crossed her arms to signify her determination.
All Sam could do was give her a single nod.
“Fine,” she said with enthusiasm. “How and where do you usually do it? Standing, sitting or lying in bed?”
“Well, it’s not like I do this often …”
Lisa broke in, “I know; you are in the 0.1%. Fine. Let’s forget that and move along, shall we?”
“Lying down in bed.”
“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.” She crawled across the bed and reached for his cami and pulled it over his head. “What about your panties? Do you want them on?”
“No.”
“Good,” and she grabbed his tap pants and pulled them off him. Sam was now naked except for his breast forms. “Do you need anything? Do you use creams or lubricants of any kind?”
“No.”
“No? But wouldn’t that be better? Smoother?”
“It’s not like I am practiced at this sort of thing,” he said snidely.
“Of course not, I understand.” Lisa slid over to one side of the bed and patted the sheets next to her. “Come here. Lie here. Do you want the pillows fluffed up? Do you sit up a little or do you lie flat, facing the ceiling?”
“I guess I just lie there.”
“Super. Take your position. Do you want your panties? Do you want to cum into your panties or do you spurt over your stomach? Or do you want a Kleenex?”
“I guess I need a Kleenex to wrap around myself.”
“Ok, I understand that, but can we skip that part? I mean it will get in the way and I won’t be able to see as much as possible.”
“That’s fine. It’s your call.”
“No it’s not. I just want to see and learn as much as possible.”
“Fine.”
Sam lay down on the bed in position and … his penis was flaccid. It wasn’t just flaccid, it was tiny. It was shrunk like that time out in below zero weather on a mountain top in Canada. He was miniscule. Lisa smiled and reached over to give him a little stroke. “Ok, go ahead,” she urged him.
Sam was as self conscious as a guy can possibly be. He looked at Lisa, intending to make one last plea for sanity, but she was grinning and staring at his penis. “Let’s go Samantha. I’m tired and I want to go to sleep.”
“Fuck!” he thought to himself. “She is the weirdest, most kinky girl in the world.” Sam closed his eyes and took hold of himself. He slowly began stroking himself, trying to get a rise. But it took several moments before he started to respond. This wasn’t exactly the most stimulating atmosphere a guy could hope for.
As soon as he had himself erect, a bit of pre-cum came to the tip of his cock. “Just a minute,” Lisa said. She reached forward and with the tip of her finger wiped the pre-cum off his penis and tasted it. She moved it around with her tongue and coated the roof of her mouth. She liked it. “Is this called pre-cum?” she asked.
“I really don’t know,” Sam answered honestly. “I guess so, it makes sense.”
“Ok, continue.”
Gritting his teeth and wondering what in the world he saw in this girl, he continued. Without a doubt this was the most humiliating moment in his life. This was worse than the time Miss Mona forced him to tuck his penis. And worse than the berating he had received about sleeping with her daughter. This was just, plain stupid. It was emasculating. It irked him to no end. But what would have irked him even more was if he knew what Lisa was thinking.
Lisa was thinking on exactly the same wavelength as Sam. “This has to be the most humiliating thing I have ever seen. It’s fantastic. He is such a wimp! He is such a sissy. He is such an effeminate girly boy. I love it! I own him! He is mine!” Lisa was ecstatic and rather proud of her quick thinking. “Look at him bang his little pee pee! What man would ever do that in front of his girl? Only a wuss!”
Lisa wanted to humiliate him more, so she started asking him questions in a clinical manner. “Do you ever hold your testicles? Do you squeeze them? How tight do you squeeze your penis? Do you always use the same hand? What are you thinking about? Do you fantasize about something? Girls? Dresses or lingerie? Me? Something else?”
Sam refused to dignify her questions with an answer. He continued onward until he finally ejaculated over his bare stomach. Lisa loved it. How exciting and incongruous. Sam’s tightlacing was starting to work and his waist almost looked curvy and feminine. And he was still wearing his breast forms, and of course his hair was curly and feminine. It was so cute to see him spurt over himself. She was getting wet again, but unfortunately she couldn’t and wouldn’t do anything about it. She had set the rules.
“That was very nice, Samantha,” she said seriously. “It comes shooting out with a lot of force, doesn’t it?” Lisa leaned forward and wiped her finger through some semen lying on Sam’s stomach. She brought it to her nose and sniffed it, then licked it off her finger. She still couldn’t put the odor or taste into words. So she picked up another glob with her fingers and held it under Sam’s nose.
“What does it smell like to you?”
Sam didn’t want to play and he said nothing.
“Open up,” Lisa said.
“What?”
“Come on, open up,” she said. “I want you to taste it and tell me what it tastes like.”
“I don’t know,” he answered in frustration.
“Do it or go back to your room. Come on Samantha, cooperate for a change.”
Sam opened his mouth and Lisa slid her finger in his mouth. He licked the semen off her finger and rolled it around his mouth. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”
Lisa decided to quit teasing him. She grabbed a Kleenex and wiped off his stomach. “Go finish cleaning up and come back to bed.” She threw the Kleenex on the floor and rolled over to her side of the bed.
Sam did as he was told, taking his lingerie with him. Lisa had to force herself from reaching between her legs and masturbating like her epicene boy. “That was wonderful,” she thought. “It is amazing what you can force a boy to do with the power of sex. He is going to make the most precious wife ever. I can’t wait to make him even more feminine and then watch him do that again. He will do anything I tell him to do. I just love that boy!”
When Sam returned from the bathroom, he was wearing his cami and tap pants. He climbed into his side of the bed turned out the light and faced away from Lisa. Lisa crawled across the bed, gently pulled him onto his back and kissed him. “Good night Samantha.”
They both returned to their private world on their own side of the bed and began to relax. After a few minutes and some tossing around Sam said, “Lisa, I have something to say.”
“What?”
“I am really sorry about last night. I won’t do it again. But I didn’t have a good day either.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure I can tell you. And even if I could, I wouldn’t have earlier tonight. But now … because ... now I will.” Sam paused and Lisa said nothing, allowing Sam to collect his thoughts. “I don’t know how to verbalize this. So please try to look through my words and listen to my thoughts.
“Today when you said you wanted to buy me a ring … Lisa, my heart jumped into my throat. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean … I mean that I was thinking that maybe you were … (swallow) … proposing.” Sam stopped and neither girl said a word.
“Lisa, there is no reason I should have thought that; it was stupid and presumptuous. I know. But that is what I thought. And it was a wonderful thought. I don’t know why ... it makes no sense I know, but that is the way it was.
“And then when you said it was a decoy …” Lisa heard a sniff. “It felt like my heart had been cut out and stomped on. I don’t know what is happening, Lisa. I feel totally out of control here. I don’t even know what gender I am for Christ sake. But for one moment I was the happiest guy in the world. And the next … and I know I shouldn’t think this way, but I can’t help it, but I blamed you. I blamed you for … something, something I can’t define in words. The closest I can come up with is spurn. You spurned me.
“It doesn’t make sense and I apologize. But a couple of times tonight you had to shake me and bring me back to earth. That is where I was.”
Lisa rolled over and spooned against the back of Sam. She hugged him for a few minutes.
“And you know the other weird thing?” Sam asked quietly. “This shows you how little logic I had, and how … stupid I was thinking. You had just spent a quarter of a million dollars on me, and I didn’t think $25,000 was enough for a ring. Isn’t that stupid? Both of those amounts are literally beyond my comprehension. My mom never had more than fifty dollars in her purse her entire life. We had to skip breakfast because we couldn’t afford cereal. And yet, I thought $25,000 wasn’t enough for an engagement ring.”
Lisa hugged him tighter. Sam continued to sniff. “And what finishes off this totally bizarre and weird tale from the twilight zone is me. I’m a guy. Why in the hell should I care about a ring? Shit! If I was half a man I would ask you to marry me.” They were quiet for another minute and then Sam added, “But if I took the initiative, you would have to settle for a $25 ring.” He chuckled for just a fleeting moment, then began sobbing. He tried extra hard to stop and hide his sobbing, but Lisa heard and felt him. Loud and clear.
Lisa finally answered Sam, but in a very quiet whisper. “Samantha, I was totally insensitive today. I was too busy trying to prove my mettle against that store owner. It was so stupid because I knew I didn’t have to do it. And then the way I handled the ring was … just dumb beyond belief. But I want you to know something. I agree with you, $25,000 isn’t enough.
“We’ve known each other for only half a year or so. But we have been really close for these last 5 weeks or so. And I have learned so much about you, so many wonderful things that I believe that I am falling in love with you. But it is still a little bit too early. My family needs more time to accept us. Trust me, they will, but you know how conservative they are. They will want us to make sure about each other.
“And we should. We should both be absolutely positive before we make that ultimate commitment. But Samantha, I know we will. And when we are ready, you are not allowed to propose to me. You tell me when the time is ready, and I promise you that I will make a quarter million dollars sound like lunch money. Ok?”
Lisa could feel Sam sobbing and shaking. She didn’t need more of an answer.
CHAPTER 33
Maggie was standing outside the door to Sam’s college apartment. With her cell phone in one hand and the other prepared to knock on the door. She pressed the send button on her phone. With her ear against the door she could hear the tell-tale chiming of a cell phone ringing on the other side. She lifted her hand …
Bill was having the time of his life. He had slept in Samantha’s bed last night, wearing a silky purple negligee that hung down to his ankles. It had wrapped around him during the night, forcing him to wake just enough to straighten it out then allow him to fall back to sleep. It had been a wonderful experience.
In the morning he took a long luxurious bath using Samantha’s scented bath beads. The water had turned into a wonderful spray of bubbles and sweet lavender fragrances. He luxuriated in the tub, re-warming the water several times. When he was on the border of turning into a prune, he stepped out and dried himself. He wanted desperately to shave his legs, but he knew that would cause him too many problems in gym class and the dorm showers. So he settled for an extra close shave of his face.
Bill went through the cupboards until he found some of Samantha’s body lotion and he applied it to his body, giving himself a nice fragrance. After slipping into a silky robe, he settled down in front of the vanity and tried to remember Samantha’s instructions on how to apply his makeup. It wasn’t a very good effort, but he was still new at it. With more practice Bill was confident that he could do better. The problem would be finding those opportunities. But little did he know his problems were about to be solved … and multiplied.
Bill had to go through a couple of drawers to find lingerie to wear. He had a note pad and he made notes as to which drawers different items came from. On Sunday he had to try and put the apartment back together as close as possible to how it had been. He put on a pink underwire brassiere and stuffed it with stockings from the drawer one down. He kept out two stockings, and pulled them up his hairy legs. It covered some of his hair, which was all he could expect from them. In additional drawers Bill found panties, a girdle for tucking and one of Samantha’s older - and larger- corsets. Bill had no idea what the corset liner was for, so he skipped that part of his dressing.
In the closet Bill found a pink dress with long sleeves but a short skirt; perfect to cover up hairy and muscular arms, but yet show off his shapely legs. Even though they were hairy, Bill thought he had shapely legs. Samantha had a beautiful collection of shoes, but they were all too small for Bill. After trying on several different heels, he tried a pair of calf high boots. They actually fit, and they had a nice tall heel for him to walk in and feel sexy. The boots didn’t actually go with his outfit, but beggars can’t be choosers. He took the boots and was happy to have anything.
He put on a wig that he managed to buy for himself, and he was set for a wonderfully sexy day. His nails were red from the previous evening, and he enjoyed looking at his nails while he had a small breakfast. After breakfast he practiced walking around the apartment, swishing his hips and practicing his walk in high heels. He sat down in front of the television and made sure to smooth his little dress under him. Bill crossed his legs in his best female imitation, and flipped through the channels on the television.
While flipping through the channels he heard his cell phone playing a tune in the kitchen. Doing his best runway strut he walked to the kitchen and found his phone. He looked at the text message and a shiver ran down his spine. It said, “Don’t try and hide. Answer the door.” Just as he read it a second time, there was a knock at the front door.
Panic set in. He wanted to hide in the bedroom and pretend he wasn’t there. But it might be the maid, and she would come in any way. And what about this text message? Someone knew he was there. And they must know he was crossdressing, or why else would they have said don’t go hide? There was a second knock at the door and a female voice called out, “Bill, please open the door.”
Busted! Big time busted. Bill tried to run scenarios through his mind, but he was thinking at the speed of mud. Slow moving and thick mud at that. “Shit!” he said to himself. “I’m dead meat.” His heart was pounding a hundred beats per second and his throat tasted bile. But he just couldn’t see a way out of his predicament. He had no choice. Bill slid off the door chain and turned the dead bolt. Then with a huge breath and exhale, he opened the door and stepped back.
Maggie slipped her cell phone back in her purse, and looked at Bill. “Pathetic,” she thought to herself. “Hello Bill,” she said in a casual voice. She didn’t wait for an invitation, and as she walked in she closed the door behind her. Bill said nothing; he just stared at Maggie as she took a quick look around the apartment. Maggie walked over to the main chair in front of the television and found the remote. She sat down, turned off the television and then called over Bill.
“Bill, would you please sit over here?” and she pointed to a chair near hers. Bill did not strut over to his chair. He walked like a robot on the way to the junk heap. He took his seat and faced his executioner. Maggie took some time to pull her thoughts together. And during that time Bill was getting sicker. He spent the time looking at the carpet and wondering if he could keep his breakfast down.
“Bill, it looks like you enjoy crossdressing.” It was a rhetorical comment and needed no response from Bill. “And it looks like you need some more practice. Much more practice.” Bill still said nothing. “I can make that possible for you. I can grant your greatest wish. I can give you a summer of not only crossdressing, but training in all the aspects of becoming a passable girl.”
Maggie let that sink in for a moment, while Bill continued to stare first at Maggie and then at the carpet. “Bill, would you be interested in that?”
Bill grunted and shook his head.
“You are allowed to speak. Do you think you might be interested?”
“Maybe.”
“Good, here is how it would work. You would be working for minimum wage at a charity group in downtown Washington D.C. Don’t worry you will be in a safe part of town. You would have a place to stay and you would receive full boarding and room. No utilities to pay. No costs at all to you. In addition, you would have a trainer; a woman who is experienced in helping boys live out their grandest fantasies. She would show you how to dress, apply makeup, style your hair, walk, talk everything.
“It is actually a very expensive service, and I will pick up all the costs. In addition, as I said, you will be asked to do a little community charity work, and you will receive money for school tuition next fall. Does this sound of interest to you?”
“Yes.”
“Now, nothing in this world is free. You know that right?”
“Yes.”
“Here is what I want from you; I want you to immediately cut off all contact that you have with Samantha. It must be total, it must be final and there must never be an exception. Never. You do not exchange texts or email. You do not answer any calls or texts from her. You clean up, leave here and never look back. Samantha must think you fell off the edge of the world. No matter how much she wants to contact you, you do not communicate with her in any way, shape or form. Nothing.
“Can you do this?”
“I can try.”
“No, you must not try. You must succeed. It is imperative for her that you do so. I have to have your word on this Bill; absolutely, concretely and never a flicker of doubt in your mind. It has to be this way. I will ask again; in exchange for me paying for the best summer of your life, will you promise me that you will never again contact or communicate with Samantha? And I want you to know, Samantha’s communications will be monitored for any such contact. Can you do that for me, Bill?”
Bill took a big breath and said, “Yes, I can do that.”
Maggie gave him a big smile. “Excellent Bill. Here is how things will work. You will finish school on what day?”
“Thursday of finals week.”
“Between now and then a woman named April will contact you. She will make all arrangements for you, including transportation. Just follow her instructions and you won’t have a worry in the world. It’s that easy. She will take total care of you Bill. By the end of the summer you will be looking like a debutante.
“Any questions?”
“Just one. Why? Why are you doing this?”
“I am doing this for Samantha. That is all you need to know. Anything else?”
“I guess not.”
“Fine. April will call you tomorrow most likely. Now, before you change clothes, clean up and leave I have one more thing I would like you to do. Please tell me everything that you and Samantha have discussed for the last two weeks. Leave out nothing, no matter how small or unimportant you might think it is.”
When Bill was finished narrating his story, Maggie sent him off to clean up. On his way out Maggie said, “Remember, her name is April. You will have nothing to worry about this summer. Everything is being handled for you. Have a wonderful time, Bill.”
Bill left and Maggie fell back into her chair. “Samantha, Samantha, Samantha, you talk too much. Lisa is going to have to teach you the benefits of discretion. Lucky Bill is going to get much more than he bargained for, and you placed in him in this position. I hope he likes living as a girl for the rest of his life.” She took out her cell and placed a call. “April it is Maggie. Ok, here is the deal. I want you to take him the full course; all the way. Take all the time you need and give him the full training for becoming a domestic. He will spend the rest of his life as a maid. If he has the aptitude for working around a stove, you might think of making me some kitchen help out of him. I’ll check up on a quarterly basis, and of course I’ll handle all expenses for as long as it takes. You may call him Wilma. And dear, I want you to convince him this is voluntary; even though it is not. You may take whatever steps you deem necessary to move him into his new vocation. Thanks a million April. You have my number if he doesn’t show. Thanks again. Bye.”
Maggie sighed and stood up to survey the apartment. As she walked around she placed another call, “Chas I am ready. You can come clean the place out.”
CHAPTER 34
Lisa and Sam woke together in their shared bed. Lisa gave Sam a good morning kiss. “Go back to your room and clean up. Take your bath, moisturize and put on a really sexy robe. Something shear and daring. And take your ribbon with you. If you would please, tie your hair back in a ponytail. I’ll get cleaned up also. You have about 30 minutes before I come calling on my best filly. Now get!”
Sam got. He returned to his room and took a nice soaking bath. Not only was the bath relaxing, but it was the first time in weeks that he had gone more than 30 minutes without his corset. It had felt wonderful to sleep without it last night. And now — if all went well — he was going to have a tryst without it. True bliss!
Sam spent only ten minutes in the tub before following up on the rest of his instructions. He moisturized his face and body as usual, brushed and flossed, put on his deodorant and pulled out a filmy babydoll to wear. He had to sit at his vanity to carefully brush and pull back his hair, so he could use the ribbon to tie it back into a ponytail. When he finished, he whipped his ponytail back and forth a few times before a thought struck him. “Ponytail? Filly?” Was Lisa connecting the two? She could be clever at times.
As long as Sam was sitting at his vanity, and he had a few minutes left, he decided to do something else for his noble princess. He took out his lip liner and carefully outlined his lips, taking care to create a deep cupids bow. Then he used pot gloss and a small brush to color his lips. The red lipstick and red ribbon peaking out from behind his head complimented one another. With a spritz of perfume he was ready to perform for his sexy princess. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to perform solo like last night. That thought was too recent and humiliating for him, and he tried to put it out of his mind.
He quickly stood to get the thought out of his head, and posed in front of his mirror. His breast forms gave a nice protrusion to his babydoll and made him look well endowed — and sexy. And he liked his hair pulled back in a ponytail. He would have to use that style more often. And below his short negligee his penis was erect and visible. He looked ready for Lisa.
Lisa knocked on the door and stepped in without waiting for a reply. She pushed the door closed, then leaned back against it in a provocative pose. She was wearing a tiny yellow pushup bra and a g-string. She too had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and — surprise, surprise —she was wearing dark red lipstick. She smiled and asked, “How do I look, Samantha?”
“Sweet,” he drawled. “And you wore lipstick too. I guess we think alike.”
“Two beautiful girls on the same wavelength, we are. So if that’s the case, what am I thinking? What does your telepathy tell you?”
“You are thinking that I look too sexy to be left standing here, and you want to jump my bones.”
“And your boner!” They both giggled as they came together and pressed their lips against each other. Gently they kissed, not yet ready to mess and smear their lipstick. Lisa opened her hand and showed Sam the little package in her palm. “Let’s put this to good use, shall we?”
“We shall!”
Lisa lifted Sam’s babydoll over his head and tossed it on a chair. Then she unfastened her bra and her g-string. “Samantha, go lie on the bed and give me your sexiest “screw-me” pose.”
Sam threw the duvet back, piled the pillows at the head of the bed, then posed in a reclining position, with one leg up and his penis pointing straight at Lisa. He pursed his lips and said in a husky voice, “Why don’t you come up and visit me sometime?”
“Mae West. And I think I will visit you right now.” Sam rolled on his back and Lisa straddled her lady-boy. She unrolled the condom over Sam’s cock and stroked it a couple of times. “Samantha,” she cooed, “you have the most precious clitoris in the whole world. Wherever did you get it?”
“It’s hand made.” The two of them laughed at Sam’s pun.
“Then let me handle it,” and Lisa gripped his penis and held it in place while she sat down on it, sliding it up and into her moist vagina. She remained in a sitting position and squeezed her muscles, feeling the gentle pulse of his cock inside her. She used her fingernails to gently scratch Sam’s stomach, while she looked into his eyes. Then ever so slowly she began rocking her hips and sliding up and down on Sam’s penis. Just a little at first, hardly noticeable. But slowly she gained speed and more depth. As she continued she carefully monitored the effeminate boy lying beneath her. At the first sign of impending ejaculation she stopped. She allowed the concupiscent boy to relax and regroup. She counted one silently to herself.
It was Lisa’s intention to bring him almost to the verge no less than 5 times, before allowing him permission to fulfill his craving. She was sure it would intensify his pleasure, and it would prolong her ability to please herself as well. “Samantha needs to learn how to do this,” she thought to herself. ”Self control is critical in successfully becoming my inamorata. He has served well as my inamorato, but now it is time to morph into my feminine inamorata.”
And so once again, after ample time for relaxation, Lisa began rocking oh so slightly and slowly. Carefully she proceeded, feeling and watching for the first tell-tail sign of ejaculation. “Two,” she told herself as she brought herself to a halt. “I’m not going to make it to five,” she admitted. “I want it too much. I want to drive him two feet deep into this mattress. Next time out we can go for five.”
Lisa lowered herself onto Sam’s body. She remained motionless as she gently kissed Sam’s lipstick covered lips. “One, two three, four and five. Five kisses will have to do it this time,” she thought, as she began pushing her pelvis into Sam’s body. Stomach against stomach, breasts against boobs, she raised herself on her elbows to allow her to shift more weight against Sam’s hips. She wanted to drive him down and against the bed so hard that he would cry for mercy. She clamped her eyes shut, gritted her teeth and threw her head back to face the heavens. “Push! Squeeze! Drive! Pin him down like a little boy; like a sissy being dominated by his older sister. Dominate him! Over power my prissy little fille de joie. Take power over his body and use it! Use it for me! Satisfy me! Harder! Faster! Stronger! Lunge …” Lisa screamed in ecstasy. She screamed so loud that Sam would have jumped if hadn’t been pinned to his bed. And after her short, but highly gratifying scream, she fell onto her boy, panting and sweating.
Cheek to cheek they rested and allowed their bodies to recover; to lower pulse rates and resume breathing at normal rates. To allow their bodies to cool down and their muscles to relax. Post coitus had never felt so grand for either of them. They were getting good at this pastime. And they hadn’t even smeared their lipstick.
“This is better than riding horses,” Lisa thought to herself. “But then again, I am riding my filly, so it’s almost the same thing.” Sam wondered why Lisa began giggling to herself.
“Too much pleasure,” she said. “I can’t control myself.”
A pair of pretty, ponytailed girls spent the day sightseeing and shopping. New York was a unique city and there was plenty to do. They had brunch at a local hotel and an early dinner at a quiet deli in uptown Manhattan. They caught an early chick flick and were back to Jeff’s by ten o’clock. It had been Sam’s best day in New York City. It started right, he made no mistakes during the day, they had laughed and hugged and kissed and shopped and held hands and kissed some more. Sam wore his engagement ring and began to actually enjoy it. At times he pretended that it actually was his engagement ring and he proudly displayed it for anyone looking his way.
And that night, entwined in Lisa’s arms, wearing his long negligee and snuggled under the duvet on Lisa’s bed he dreamed of wearing a wedding dress. Sam was almost Samantha. In his own mind and in the bliss of his dreams, the transformation was almost complete. It wouldn’t take much longer. Soon, during those ugly, rational moments of complete consciousness — some call it day - Sam would calmly and completely accept his fate, and Sam would disappear. And that day Samantha would be truly born. But Sam still had more psychological crises to endure. Life wasn’t that easy.
Monday morning they finished their packing and called for the limo. Lisa gave Jeff a kiss on the lips and a long, intimate hug. “I owe you one Lisa.”
“And I shall collect. And when I do, I intend to repay you.”
“It was nice having you here Samantha. You are welcome in my home whenever you are in New York. Please come back.”
Lisa and Samantha rode to LaGuardia to catch their jet back home. They were already at the airport when the jet arrived with Lisa’s Aunt Michelle. They flew the jet to North Carolina and school, where Lisa departed. Then Sam flew to Dulles in Washington D. C. where Maggie met him.
“Welcome home Samantha,” Maggie said as she gave Sam a surprisingly tight hug. “Just bring your purse and lap top, Chas will collect your other things later.” Maggie led Sam to the parking lot and explained, “We don’t have room in the car for much more than you and me.”
It soon become obvious to Sam why there was no room. Maggie led him up to an antique 1966, candy-red corvette convertible. Maggie had the roof down. “Awesome.”
“Can you drive a stick?” Maggie asked.
Sam was pleasantly surprised, but dejected at the same time. It seemed like Maggie might let him drive this beauty, but Sam had never driven a stick. “I wish I could Miss Maggie. But the answer is no.”
“Well, you can’t drive home, but we will work on that this week. I’ll teach you.”
“That would be wonderful.”
Maggie drove back to the mansion, making small talk and playing tour guide. They reached the main drive to the mansion and Maggie pulled over, pulled the parking brake and stepped out of the car. “No time like the present Samantha. Let’s give you that first lesson. It’s nice and flat here, so this is a good place to start your lessons.”
Sam jumped behind the steering wheel, adjusted the seat and mirrors, and then Maggie gave him a description of how a manual worked. “Ok, let the clutch out slowly and step on the gas.” Sam brought the car to an abrupt and jerky stop with his first attempt. “No problem,” Maggie said. “It happens to everyone. Let’s try again.”
Maggie was a wonderful and patient tutor, as the two of them spent over an hour driving around the estate. Later, Maggie directed Sam out onto the drive and finally through the neighborhood. When they were finished Maggie directed Sam over to the garage area. She said, “I’ll park it in the garage. Wednesday, if you feel up to it, we’ll spend some time on the hill behind the stable. Hill starts are tricky and require lots of practice.”
“Awesome, Miss Maggie. Thank you.”
“My pleasure Samantha.” On their walk back to the mansion Maggie said, “Would you like to help me prepare dinner?”
“Sure. I have nothing else to do.”
“You will need a maid uniform then.” Maggie called over the downstairs maid, “Janice, Samantha needs a uniform and I can’t loan her one of mine; I’m a little too big for her. Would you be a dear and run home and get one of yours for her? I’ll add enough money to your check this week to buy a new one.”
“Certainly, Miss Maggie. It would be my pleasure.”
As Janice left via the back kitchen door Sam asked, “How far away does she live? How much time do I have to freshen up?”
“Janice and her family own one of the family houses. It’s only a ten minute round trip via golf cart.”
“Where? I don’t understand.”
Maggie had something new to explain to Sam. “There are 5 houses on the back side of the estate. They are on the street that goes around the property. Those houses are reserved for servants. They can own them and build equity, but they are only allowed to sell them to other family employees. It’s all in the contract. We have golf cart paths through the back of the estate right up to the back door of those houses. So the girls commute with golf carts. She will be back in no time. If you need to freshen up, go ahead. Use Harriet’s bedroom and I’ll have Janice bring up the uniform as soon as she gets here. Ok?”
“Thanks, Miss Maggie. See you in a few.”
Sam needed to use the toilet and freshen his makeup, and he wanted to fluff his hair back into some semblance of a style. By the time he had finished there was a knock on the door. Janice was there with a dress wrapped up in plastic. “Miss Samantha, here is a uniform for you. There is a choker inside that you have to wear. Also, you need to wear black stockings and black 2 inch heels. I don’t know if Miss Maggie will require you to put up your hair, but we have to have our hair tied behind or put up. Would you like some help?”
“Thank you Janice, but I should be ok. If I need help I’ll call.”
“Yes ma’am,” and Janice left.
Sam hung the dress on a hook by the big mirror and stripped off the plastic. “So now I’m a maid,” Sam said aloud. “Why is this family so weird? And why are they trying so hard to turn me into a full time girl? I feel like a Barbie doll.”
Sam took off his dress and stripped down to his lingerie. He went through Harriet’s dresser to find a new package of black stockings. Sam put on the maid dress, which was a short sleeve, black dress with a short, full skirt. He pulled a petticoat up and under the shirt, and it filled out the skirt. Over the top he put on a white apron with a white sash around the waist. It was a simple uniform, but made it perfectly clear that the wearer was a maid.
A short search through Harriet’s shoe collection found the proper shoes. He clipped the choker around his neck and left his hair tied back in a pony tail. His ponytail was tied with the red ribbon from New York.
“How do I look?” Sam asked Maggie as she did a quick spin around.
“Very nice,” Maggie said. Maggie was wearing her maid uniform also, although hers was not as short as Sam’s. “I thought I would make Weiner Schnitzel for dinner tonight. Have you ever cooked Weiner Schnitzel, Samantha?”
“Nope. I’ve never cooked much more than cold cereal or soup.”
“Well it’s about time you learned how to find your way around a kitchen. I don’t mean to brag, but I did graduate from a culinary school.”
“I know,” Sam said, “Lisa told me. You went to the CIA.”
Maggie smiled and said, “That’s right. So Samantha, I feel qualified to give you a proper introduction to cooking. And there is one thing you need to know up front; I love cooking and especially baking. So if I get a little over excited, please bear with me.”
“Of course, Miss Maggie.”
Maggie gave Sam a nice smile. “The first thing we are going to do is make a small salad for us. I’m a little hungry. How about you?”
As they worked together, Maggie was bubbly and happy. She loved cooking and she loved having Sam with her. Sam could tell that Maggie was enjoying his company. After they finished their salad Sam decided to take a chance.
“Miss Maggie, can I ask a personal question?”
“Maybe, let’s hear it.”
“Well, it’s kind of awkward, so please forgive me, but I can’t help but wonder about your relationship with everyone. You work like a maid at times, and at other times you are an executive in the company. Miss Mona said you run the electronics business, and you have an extensive antique car collection, but I don’t know if you are an aunt or just a friend or how you fit in.”
“That is a complicated question Samantha. And eventually it will be explained to you, but not by me. I am not allowed to tell you that. Suffice it to say that Miss Mona is like a wife to me, and Lisa is like a daughter.” Maggie smiled, making it clear that the topic was finished.
It was a non answer for Sam, but it didn’t seem to matter. Somehow, Maggie was close to Mona and Lisa, and if she wasn’t family, she seemed to have full family rights. “Chef Adams in New York called Lisa your daughter.”
“I was like her mother when she was young. I changed her diapers, kissed her boo boos, read her bedtime stories and comforted her when she had nightmares. So he wasn’t far from wrong.”
Maggie must be some sort of nanny, Sam decided. Maggie began Sam’s first cooking lesson and they had a nice time. Maggie was so friendly that Sam had to continually remind himself to address her as Miss Maggie. Sam slipped once, and Maggie quickly, but kindly corrected him. “It’s a family rule Samantha, and it relates to respect for older generations. Anyone from an older generation must be addressed properly and often formally. And being from outside the family, you will have to address all family members, including your same generation, by Miss. The hierarchy within the family is formal and rigid.
“As long as we’re on this topic, let me explain a little further. The help around the house is always addressed by their first name. And they in turn must address you as Miss. The hierarchy continues as you can see.
“There are several other etiquette rules that you will have to learn and follow Samantha. The Hawthorne family is different than other families. We have distinct rules and attitudes that are different than you have grown up with, and you will have to learn and follow these rules. Most of them hearken back to the days of Miss Grace when she was still forming her family. They are not right or wrong; just different. It will take some time for you to learn them, but we will help you.”
More clues and tips for Samantha. Maggie’s non-explanation of her relationship should have given Sam another clue. Her explanation of etiquette should have started Sam thinking about those relationships. But once again, Sam’s upbringing and paradigms blocked him from thinking outside the box. His patriarchal view of the universe didn’t allow him to even consider the possibility or fallout of living in a matriarchal family. And he especially never considered a matriarchal family that dominated and subjected their males to feminine rituals and lifestyles. And so Sam blindly stumbled forward, not anticipating or comprehending Lisa’s and her family’s intentions for him — or soon to be her.
That evening he learned more about life around the Hawthorne mansion. Up until now, most of what he had seen focused around entertaining a guest — him. But beginning that evening, he saw more of the normal patterns and schedules. Chas delivered Miss Mona home at 5:00. She and Maggie typically left work between 4:00 and 4:30 to beat some of the rush hour traffic. From 5:00 to 7:00 was dinner hour. Maggie usually had one of her girls either do the cooking, or at least start the cooking. Mona retired to her study and caught up on house business. There was no cocktail hour when they were alone.
By 7:00 the dinner would be over, the clean up would be turned over to the maids and Mona would return to her study until about 9:00. Maggie handled other household items, and set schedules for the domestic help. Maggie would sometimes retire to her antique cars or evaluate new electronic equipment. By ten, the house was dark. And the next day started with a 6:00 AM alarm.
That evening Miss Mona discussed Sam’s schedule for Tuesday. It would be a busy day for him. He would go to work with Miss Mona and Miss Maggie, leaving the house at 7:15. They would arrive by 8:30, and Sam was going to shadow Miss Mona for the morning. After lunch he would go to the salon for a couple of items, including something brand new; hair hi-lighting. And after the salon would be his facial peel. Then Sam would travel home with his future in-laws.
After dinner, when Mona and Maggie headed off for their normal routine, Sam went to the study and looked into his homework. He tried to call Bill and see how his weekend had gone but there was no answer. Sam texted him with the same lack of luck. Bill must have been out and about.
Sam retired to Harriet’s room around 10:00. He carefully hung up his new maid uniform and stripped down to his basics: breast forms and brassier, and corset. He no longer had to leave on his panties and girdle to hold his tucked penis and testicles. Sam enjoyed that bit of reprieve. He cleaned up, removed his makeup and moisturized his skin and took care of his toilet. He wore frilly blue knickers and a babydoll to bed.
CHAPTER 35
Sam had ordered a 6:00 alarm, and it arrived earlier than he wanted. He rubbed his eyes and sluggishly rolled out of bed. He stripped down to his birthday suit then took his position on the floor. As usual, he ripped off one hundred sit ups. He had been doing this for 5 weeks, and the process was getting easier. And even though he couldn’t see it in the mirror, he felt like his abs were getting tighter. He hoped that they would soon be showing up visibly as well.
Sam drew himself a hot bath full of fragrant bubbles, and soaked for fifteen minutes, allowing his skin, and especially the area trapped under his corset, to soak up the emollients and soften for the day. The Hawthorne baths all had towel warmers and he loved wrapping a warm towel around his body upon exiting from the tub. He didn’t wash his hair, so that would speed up his routine for the day.
After finishing the bath routine, he went into the dresser drawers set aside for his clothes, and found a clean bra, panties, and the rest of his lingerie. Wrapping his bra around his chest and situating his breast forms in their cups always exhilarated him. This practice of impersonating a girl wasn’t his cup of tea, but if it had an upside it was the tug and weight, and the jiggle and wiggle of his breasts. They made him feel like a real girl more than anything else he did. And if he was supposed to impersonate one, he might as well feel like one.
On the other hand his lipstick and makeup made him look like a girl. His boobs were important, and the bigger the better, but after dressing like a girl for 5 weeks, some of his ideas about feminine beauty had changed slightly. The girls in the salon were gorgeous beyond description, and the single most consistent contributor to their beauty was their skin; and especially their complexion. Sam would never have skin like theirs — or so he thought. How could he, he was a guy. But his foundation and makeup gave him his best chance to approach their beautiful skin.
Number three on his list of criteria for ultimate feminine beauty was his hair. And he did love his hair. The stunning saturation of his auburn coloring and the wonderful curls from his permanent framed his face and gave him a nice and proper girl face. Without his hair framing his face he felt his facial shape was too round. And as much as he was starting to like wearing his hair back in a ponytail, the shape of his face was the only drawback for him.
As these random thoughts ran through his mind, he had to stop and remind himself of reality. “You are not a girl, Sam! Don’t let them turn you into one. A couple more weeks … well wait there is Paris and Europe. But after Europe you are back to being a handsome stud once more. You are starting to think too much like a girl. You’ve been spending too much time in salons and thinking that you have to look and dress and talk and act like a perfect lady. Stick it out just a little longer kid. Hold on, don’t let them brainwash you beyond hope.”
But after only 5 weeks, his pep talk was losing some of its pizzazz. Lisa was winning. Sam wouldn’t, couldn’t admit it. Even deep inside he would never admit it, but he was losing the war. The age old war between the sexes was being turned around on Sam. It was now the war to blur the sexes, and incrementally it was becoming the war to feminize Sam.
And Sam was becoming feminized. The way he walked and talked and held his head and smiled were becoming ingrained in his mannerisms. Without the clothing and makeup, Sam would have looked and acted effeminate in all of those mannerisms. Even sitting and standing showed his effeminate traits. Anyone seeing Sam dressed as boy would have thought him to be an effeminate boy and probably a sissy too. There would be no going back. Lisa was winning.
And maybe Sam was also.
Sam finished slipping into his lingerie, pulled on his stockings and then tightened his corset. He wore a black dress with beautiful and colorful beaded designs crocheted below the waist. The dress was a crinkle georgette overdress with empire waist, cap sleeves and a hem ending at the ankles. It was pretty but not too dressy or formal. With black three inch heels he was ready for his day as Miss Mona’s intern.
“Samantha, that is a beautiful dress,” Maggie told him.
“Very pretty,” Mona added. “You have very nice taste in your wardrobe. You will make a wonderful intern. Now, same rules as last time; you talk to no one, and no one talks to you without my approval. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” Sam said as he wolfed down his eggs.
When they reached the office, the three of them rode the private elevator to the executive floor. Mona made it a point to introduce Sam to everyone they met, and especially her receptionist Kristin and executive secretary Sophie. Both girls impressed Sam with their beauty, and especially their skin and complexion. They were both very buxom and thin, and they had long, curly hair that cascaded over their shoulders. Sophie was the most remarkable as far as Sam was concerned. She was in her forties, at least, and yet she was still beautiful. Her skin was almost flawless, her long curly hair made her look younger than her years, and she had the most glorious green eyes, with long thick lashes and dark mascara. She was thin but had phenomenal curves and could she walk! Man she could work it! “Where do they get these women?” Sam asked himself for the hundredth time.
Mona had planned for this day for the better part of a week. Sophie had moved her schedule around to give Miss Mona as many appointments as possible on Tuesday morning. Mona wanted to bring in some important people and introduce them to Sam. She wanted to impress Sam with the type of people he would meet if he were to become a full time intern to Mona. She wanted to whet Sam’s appetite for power.
The morning went smoothly, with Sam listening and learning. Before each meeting Mona gave Sam instructions on what to look and listen for, and afterwards she reviewed the high points and again talked about the personalities of their guests. It was an eye opening opportunity for Sam and he certainly enjoyed the morning.
At lunch Mona took Sam to the cafeteria and continued his introductions. The company had only one cafeteria and everyone ate together. But the top girls had their own “usual” table, and others left them alone unless invited. Miss Grace, Miss Maggie, and two aunts joined the group. Miss Grace made the introductions, “Samantha, I would like you to meet Miss Joyce. She is my third daughter and she handles many of our HR items; insurance, company policies, payroll and all those government things.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Joyce, “Samantha said as they shook hands.
“And this is my baby,” Miss Grace said with all humor intended. “Miss Serena is my fourth child and I must say our prettiest.”
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Samantha. I have heard so much about you and I must say, your beauty meets all expectations. You are a beautiful young lady Samantha. Lisa has done exceptionally well for herself.”
“Thank you,” Sam said. “I guess,” he thought. “Why must everyone insist that I am a pretty girl? Maybe because I’m wearing a dress,” he answered himself with a modicum of disgust.
“Miss Serena is our lawyer, so we must be careful what we say,” she said with a little chuckle.
“I’ll be careful,” Samantha replied.
After lunch Miss Maggie walked Sam down to the salon. “Do you know how to get to the doctor’s office from here?” she asked.
“Fourth floor?”
“Yes, that is correct. Here is your card for entry to the building. In some cases you will need to type in a password. In those cases, type in “sexygirl”. I thought that might be appropriate for you. Your doctor appointment is at 3:30. I’ll pick you up there. Have the receptionist call me when you are ready to leave. Good luck.”
“No,” Sam said to himself, “Sexygirl is not appropriate. I am really getting tired of all this female, girly stuff.” Then he stalked off to his salon appointment. Sam walked in and took a deep breath. Every time he came here, he enjoyed the weird concoction of smells and odors. The fragrance was so unique to salons that the moment he took his first sniff, there could be no doubt as to where he was. And even though he wasn’t a girl, he usually enjoyed his visits. The pampering was grand, but the salon girls were even better. They were so beautiful that he always enjoined clandestinely staring at them; although he wasn’t too clandestine. The “girls” knew him all too well.
“Welcome back, Samantha,” Florence said enthusiastically. “We’re all ready for you. Would you like something to drink?”
“No thank you,” Sam answered as he handed his purse to Florence. “So what is our schedule today?”
“First you will have your nail extensions removed. Greta will handle that for you. Then she will give you a paraffin hand wax. From there Susan will handle the rest. She will remove your lashes and then highlight your hair. I understand you have a 3:30 appointment with the doctor for a facial peal. We will have you done in plenty of time. Enjoy!”
While they waited for Greta to arrive, Sam tried to make small talk. “I saw you two Saturdays ago.”
“Really? Where?”
“At that charity gala. You were with the Senator, but you didn’t stay long.”
“Oh that! Boy that was strange. We walked in, one of his aids said something and we left immediately. The Senator never told me why we left so fast. But I found out later. Miss Mona was there.”
“I guess the two of them don’t get along together very well.” Florence laughed and nodded. With a chuckle between them, Sam’s naiveté returned and he almost stumbled into his next faux pas. “So I guess you are still seeing the Senator?” Sam meant that Florence was seeing him as his escort. But fortunately Florence saw things differently.
“Yes, I think he might be getting serious.”
“What? Serious about you … doing what?” Sam almost stepped into it once, but this time he fell in face first.
Florence figured out where Sam was coming from, and even though she knew Sam was new to this picture, she was still miffed. “Dating! He does like me you know! We go on dates together, and not just to social affairs.”
Oops! Sam realized that he had literally stepped in it. “Please excuse me. My stupidity just blurted out something without engaging my brain. I am very sorry for … not thinking.”
Greta showed up to save the day. She took Sam back into the salon and away from Florence. Greta was bubbly and full of energy, plus she had no idea what Sam had just said. She and Sam talked as she removed his acrylic nail extensions. Sam had to soak his nails in a smelly solvent and then Greta used a wooden pick to lift the nails and take them off. After drying the nails, she polished the nails and finished cleaning off the glue.
Then she prepared his hands for a waxing. First she polished his hands with a pumice stone to remove his calluses and make his hands smoother. Then she had him dip his hands in warm paraffin wax. From there she pulled plastic gloves over his hand, and finally slid those gloves into large, warm mitts.
During this time they talked. Sam wanted more information about the girls and their escort work. But he wasn’t sure how to bring it up and discuss it. He was sure that it was a very sensitive subject. So he was surprised when Greta took over the subject and gave him an ear full.
Sam started with his observations at the charity ball. Not only did he see Florence, but he had seen a couple other girls; Jillian and Olivia. “It seems kind of odd that all three girls were at the same event,” Sam said. He was trying to figure out how to move on to the interesting questions, but Greta took over.
“Not really, they were all escorting I’m sure.”
“Escorts? But how … what kind of work is that?” Sam tried to act naive, but it didn’t work.
“You know what kind of work that is, Samantha. The girls here aren’t as lucky as you. None of us have been able to land a Hawthorne. So we have to work for a living.” That should have been a huge dig at Sam, but it really wasn’t. Greta’s tone of voice made it clear that she was merely laying down the facts of life. Sam said nothing and listened.
“Don’t get me wrong, we don’t have it bad, Samantha. We all have a job that we like, we have free boarding, free medical and at least one free meal a day — lunch in the cafeteria. And we get paid decently; at least by middle class standards.
“But in these economic times, things aren’t all roses. We make extra money as we can. Several of us model for Miss Eunice, some model for Miss Maggie, and when we can we do escort work. Escort work pays very good, and it is interesting. We get to meet some interesting and powerful men. And if we’re lucky, it might blossom into something more substantial. It is one way to meet men, although most of them tend to be married. We do what we can,” she concluded.
“Can we back up a little, and please forgive me for my ignorance, but you get free boarding and medical?”
“Well we work for the Corporation.”
“What corporation?”
“Hawthorne Corp. We are all employees of Hawthorne Corp. Some of us work here in the salon, some work as sales girls in the other shops, and a fewer of the luckier, and smarter girls, work as receptionists and secretaries. But we all get a free apartment, and we have full access to the company doctor. We get year end bonuses just like everyone else. And the best part is we are allowed to moonlight however we want. Like I said, most of the girls model.”
Sam had to think about that for a minute. “The salon is part of Hawthorne Corp.?”
“Yep. Just about everything here in the building is owned by the Family.”
“And all of you get free housing too?”
“Not all. I would say that about half of the employees here at the salon are Miss Maggie recruits.”
“Miss Maggie recruits?”
And that is the point when Greta realized that she had said too much. All the girls had been warned about being too free with information around Samantha. But he seemed like one of them. Everyone knew Sam was a guy being transformed by the Family into a pre-op. Maggie never denied it, so they knew it to be true. So they felt like Samantha was one of them. But he wasn’t. He was as good as a Hawthorne already, and he needed to be treated with kid’s gloves. Greta remembered just in time.
Greta had to think fast. She couldn’t tell Sam the truth; that Maggie traveled around the world and recruited the prettiest boys in the world, brought them back to Washington D. C. and set them up financially and took care of them. She wasn’t allowed to tell Sam that these boys were allowed to follow their destination as far as they wanted. They could stay as beautiful pre-op transsexuals, or go all the way to having the full operation. They were allowed to model for the top she-male web sites in the world, and they could even travel to Hollywood and make movies.
The “girls” were nurtured and pampered and kept for the Family. They were employed throughout the Hawthorne business and used primarily for their beauty and sex. Every Hawthorne from Miss Grace on down occasionally partook of one of the pretty boys, and at the end of the month the girls received a nice bonus for their hour or two of pleasuring a Hawthorne woman. The girls were also made available to the power brokers of Washington D.C. The girls handled their after-hours business personally; no one from the Family could ever be accused of aiding or promoting an escort service. But the Family made sure the “right” men in power found the type of girl they were interested in. It was a favor that required reciprocation by these powerful men and the Family — and primarily Miss Mona — were the beneficiaries. And the girls were allowed to follow their assignations wherever they pleased, even if it meant a long term relationship away from the Family.
Maggie traveled all over the world, and had hundreds of contacts who spotted the loveliest young boys with the most potential. As these boys grew into their teens and began their hormone therapy, Maggie made the prettiest of them a deal they couldn’t refuse. They immigrated to the United States with the help of Miss Mona’s State Department contacts. They were given free two bedroom apartments in one of two apartment buildings that the Corporation owned for this special purpose. Both buildings were within walking distance of the Hawthorne Building. The girls could live alone or take a roommate. The girls were given day jobs that fit with their talents and provided them with the spending money they needed. Their only requirement was a bi-weekly blood test at the company doctor’s office to make sure they stayed clean of drugs and STS.
It was the sweetest deal in the world for a pretty boy from a poor third world country who wanted to transition from boy to girl. And it was a sweet deal for the Family. Some rich families collected art or antiques. The Hawthornes collected pretty boys; for themselves and their political allies. The family referred to the girls as Maggie’s Harem. She was responsible for finding them, nurturing them and keeping them under control. Of course Maggie had help. She had an older transsexual at each apartment to act as house mother, handle quarrels, watch for negative behavior patterns and schedule building maintenance and cleaning.
Half the girls working at the salon were Maggie’s and whether he realized it or not, Sam had already identified most of them. The prettiest girls were Maggie’s boys. They had been helped with cosmetic surgery to enhance their native beauty, and the result was usually astounding. A full regimen had been developed over the years, and most of the boys were put through the course to make them even more beautiful. Sam was next.
Greta was not allowed to share this information. She had to back track. “Miss Maggie believes in equal opportunity hiring. She hires girls from poor families and gives them a shot at making a nice living by working here.”
“Really?” Sam was surprised.
“Yep,” Greta said as she continued to cover her mistake. “Like I said, about half the girls here came from dirt poor families.” That part was actually true. “Miss Maggie and the company help us out. Miss Samantha, we aren’t ashamed of what we are or what we do. But please don’t say anything to Miss Maggie. Miss Maggie is such a wonderful person that she doesn’t want the attention or credit for what she does. So please? Please don’t say anything to Miss Maggie.”
“Of course,” Sam agreed.
A bullet dodged for Greta. “Watch your mouth next time girl!” she silently reprimanded herself.
After Greta, Sam was given to Susan. Once again, Sam walked away from critical information and didn’t put two and two together. Greta’s story sounded good, but Sam should have seen it for what it was; too good to be true. Sam was looking at his future in these “girls” and he couldn’t see it. At least he was going to be vastly richer than the salon “girls”. Sam was the luckiest of the lucky; he had a Hawthorne. At lease that much he recognized.
Greta finished her services and handed Sam over to Susan, who walked Sam back to her work area. Susan removed Sam’s lashes and highlighted his hair. And during their time together they talked. “Miss Samantha, are you getting a face peel today? First one?” Susan asked.
“Yep,” Sam answered in his normal loquacious (not!) manner.
“The girls here all swear by them. Wait until you’re done with the entire series. The difference will be amazing.”
“The whole series? There is more than just one?”
“Of course. Didn’t anyone tell you? Well the doctor will explain it all to you. But in a nutshell, you will get a series of 6 peels, one every two months or so. Most women mess up by waiting until they’re too old for their first peel, and then they usually get one too strong.
“But Dr. Ratchet seems to have it all worked out pretty good. You start young and get a low strength peel. Most women get a TCA at 35%, but the doctor starts us at 20%. Then each time she steps up the strength just a little. You go through a series of 6 sessions. Then you go back about every year or two for a refresher. The results are, like I said, amazing.”
“Have all the girls here gotten these facial peels? Is that why everyone here has such beautiful skin and complexions?”
“Yep. Like I said, we all swear by them. Of course the Retin A and hormones help.”
“What hormones?”
“The estrogen and progesterone.”
“Well I won’t be using those, I’m not a real girl. But what is Retin A?”
And that is the point when Susan realized that she had screwed up and talked too much. “Familiarity breeds contemp.” Having Sam as a customer so often, and knowing that he was being feminized like the rest of the girls, Susan lost track of who she was dealing with. Like Greta, she forgot to keep her mouth shut, and now she had to back track.
“Retin A is a prescription drug that the doctor uses in a special moisturizer for you. It tightens the skin and prevents little lines from starting. It keeps the skin much more youthful appearing. Just use it twice a day, and it helps keep old age away. It’s an important part of your skin regimen.”
Sam listened carefully, but he was thinking about those hormones. For once he was getting suspicious. “Do you take estrogen?” Sam asked.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Susan repeated to herself. “No, but some of the girls do. They think extra doses help their skin even more.”
“Does it? What does it supposedly do?”
“Shit, shit shit!” again. “Supposedly the estrogen softens the skin and keeps it clear of zits and blemishes.” Susan had to get out of this conversation! “But I doubt it really helps. Most girls are already producing enough estrogen and any extra that they take is just wasted.” Quick, think of something else to add! “It’s mostly the girls with big modeling ambitions that use it. You know models; they’ll do just about anything if they think it gives them a leg up in their career. You know?”
“Yes, like enemas.”
“Exactly!” Susan hoped that she had just walked out of a near disaster. She concentrated on Sam’s highlighting, hoping she could ignore more questions. Susan was using 3 tints to highlight Sam’s hair; two lighter tints and a light red. The light red would blend in and be almost invisible, but it would add the color robustness that would make Sam’s hair really stand out. Susan had Sam’s top hair pinned out of the way and she was slicing and weaving with her rat-tail comb, picking up strands of hair and laying them on tinfoil, brushing on the tint, then folding the tinfoil closed to protect those hairs. She was alternating colors and weaving patterns, leaving bulk hair every so often so that it wouldn’t get tinted at all. The overall affect with Sam’s long, curly hair was going to lookgorgeous.
After allowing the proper time for the tints to do their coloring work, Susan removed the foils and washed out Sam’s hair. The long wet hair looked a bit odd with the highlighting, but Susan could tell that she had done a nice job. She had about an hour left until Sam’s doctor appointment, so she dried his hair to show him how it would look.
To minimize the frizzies, Susan used no less than 6 towels to try and pick up the water from Sam’s hair with out using any heat. She then combed out the hair and again wrapped a towel over Sam’s head and tried to pick up additional moisture. Finally, Susan used her blow dryer on a cool temperature with a diffuser. She used her hand to fluff Sam’s hair and dry it, while at the same time allowing his curls to reform themselves. Too much heat has a way of flattening curls.
And voilá , Sam was finished.
“Miss Samantha, how do you like your new hair color?”
Sam was impressed; not only with the color and highlights, but with Susan’s ability to style it and bring out the curls so nicely. If only Sam could do as well at home. “That’s wonderful Susan. Thank you so very much; not only for the coloring, but the conversation. I learned a lot.”
“I hope you didn’t learn too much,” Susan muttered to herself.
Sam collected his purse and signed for his session. Florence said little as Sam left.
Sam clip-clopped across the lobby and over to the elevator where he slid in his security card and waited for the elevator to arrive. “Sexygirl! They continuously push it on me. They never stop,” Sam complained. He stepped into the elevator and pushed the proper button, then viewed his image in the mirror. “She did a nice job. My hair looks really cute,” he said as he watched his red lips mouthing the words. He quickly pulled his lipstick out of his purse and freshened his lip color before the elevator arrived at the doctor’s level.
Sam stepped into the doctor’s office and the receptionist called him over. “Samantha? The doctor is ready to see you.”
Sam smiled and thought, “The joys of being a Hawthorne; no waiting for doctors. They’re waiting for me.” This was another part of his frilly and lacy predicament that Sam really liked. “Hello doctor,” Sam said as he was led into her office.
“Samantha, it is nice to see you again. Please take a seat over here and we can get started.”
Sam sat in a dentist-like chair with lights mounted on the side and a reclining back. “Let’s talk about your procedure today. I don’t know what you have been told, but trust me, most of it is wrong. That is why we talk first and operate second.”
The doctor thought she was funny, but Sam found her loud and a little abrasive. “She must be a good doctor judging from the beautiful girls in the salon, but her bedside manners are really … lacking.” Sam thought she reminded him of one of those really bright geeks who knew everything but couldn’t get along with anyone. Yeah, that’s how he pictured her.
“You facial peel is a chemically induced exfoliation of your outer skin. By exfoliating your skin, we allow new skin to grow faster. And as it just so happens, the new skin tends to have younger and nicer qualities. It doesn’t tend to carry through pigment induced blemishes, it tends to be softer, and it tends to be clearer — more transparent. At least that is what some people think.
“Now, like most things in life, the slow and steady approach works better than the fast and harsh approach. Most women wait too late in their lives for their first peel. Then they use too harsh a peel and finally they don’t follow up with what they have accomplished. The end result is a quick, low quality peel.
“Over the years we have developed a much better approach. It takes longer, requires more attention and follow up, but the results have been quite remarkable.”
“I think I have seen your work, doctor. The girls working in the salon have some of the nicest complexions I have ever seen.”
“There you go Samantha, proof that our approach works. And thank you for the compliment. So how do we do it? First, other women use a 35% solution of trichloroacetic acid — we call it TCA. We will not use that strong a solution on you. Towards the end of your procedures we will re-evaluate, but I have used that concentration only two or three times. We will use only 20% solution today. In 8 weeks you will come back. I will assess your progress and decide what strength to use next. But I never jump by more than 5% from one application to the next.
“You will come back a total of 5 times. You get 6 applications, starting with 20% TCA and working up to no more than 35% TCA. At that point I think you will see a huge improvement in your skin tone and clarity. You already have good skin Samantha; no freckles, a slight blemish here and a mole here, which won’t be affected by the peels. Now the mole we can take off separately and if you’re interested we can talk about that next time.
“But after your 6 appointments, I will then want you back once a year. At that point we are merely maintaining your skin, but if necessary we can discuss other, more advanced items if you want. Ok so far?”
“Yep.”
“In between appointments, I will give you a special moisturizer to use. Use it twice a day, once in the morning after cleansing your face, and once in the evening after you remove your makeup when you go to bed.”
“What’s in the moisturizer?” Sam asked. He was expecting to hear about Retin A.
“A couple of items Samantha, but the most active is Retin A. You may have heard about it for severe acne cases. We have only 5% in your moisturizer. It reduces lines, and keeps the skin blemish free. And it really does work on acne, so you should see fewer of those pesky pimples that tend to pop up on everyone at the wrong time.”
“I know how that goes,” Sam agreed. “Is there anything else I need to use?”
“Just the usual; stay out of the sun as much as you can. The sun’s ultraviolet rays are extremely harmful to your skin. Never go outside without suntan lotion. Don’t spend excessive time in a chlorinated pool, or hot tub. If you do, use lots of moisturizer before and after. Keep your skin clean. Stay away from excessive fatty foods. Pretty much the usual. And the first several days, use only minimum makeup. None would be best.”
“What about estrogen?”
“Estrogen? What about it?”
“Is it in your moisturizer cream that I use?”
“No. Why do you ask? Are you interested in using it?”
“I’m just interested. What does estrogen do for you? Anything?”
“Estrogen is good for the skin. It softens the skin and gives it extra elasticity and better clarity. But adding it to your skin regimen only helps if you aren’t using estrogen to begin with. For example, it would help a boy’s skin, but would probably have very little impact on a woman’s skin; at least for a woman that has reached puberty. And below puberty, most girls and boys don’t need help with their skin. Why do you ask? Do you want to begin using estrogen?” The doctor gave Sam a knowing smile that creeped him out.
“No, not at all. I just wanted to know if it is in anything you are going to give me.”
“Not yet,” the doctor thought to herself. “Samantha, if you are interested in using female hormones I would be happy to talk with you about it.” The doctor was wondering if Samantha had made the big leap by herself. “It’s a big jump, but if you are ready, emotionally, mentally and physically, the benefits can be exciting.”
“Oh no. I just wanted to … to make sure is all.”
“Fine. But if you ever change your mind, please ask. I have no qualms about giving you the facts concerning hormone therapy.” The doctor stopped and cleared her mind. “Now then, back to your facial peel. First I will clean your skin, then I will apply the TCA. It will stay on only 15 minutes. I will wash it off, apply some moisturizer and you will be free to go.
“It will tingle when I put it on, but the tingling will be mild and disappear after only a short while. Later tonight, your face will start turning red and feel dry and stiff. You may gently apply the moisturizer I give you. When you wash your face be gentle and use a soft washcloth for the next several days. Stay out of the sun, that is very important. Wear a hat and use suntan lotion if you leave the house.
“In very rare cases the redness will get worse and cause pain and cracking. If that happens, call me. But mostly, you are going to see flaking and sloughing of old skin cells as your skin exfoliates and regenerates.
“And finally, let me say that I have done this specific routine on over fifty girls and have had no ill effects. The final results have been almost amazing, but don’t expect to see those wonderful results after the first session. Most girls don’t see a big difference until after 4 or 5 sessions. Then the advantage of our approach really shines through. So, do you have any questions?”
“No.”
“One last chance, do you want to talk about estrogen?”
An emphatic, “No.” Samantha was sorry he had brought up the topic. “Does she think I want to become a girl?” he asked himself. “Is everyone intent on turning me into a girl?” The answer to that question was an emphatic yes! And the most interesting point was Sam’s attitude. Although he was adamant about not using estrogen and feminizing his body, that is exactly what his facial peels were intended to accomplish. Yet Sam accepted the facial peels with no reservations at all; as if all boys liked modeling wedding dresses and did peels all the time. Yes, Sam was slowly becoming acclimatized to his new life.
“Then let’s get started.” The doctor said as she positioned Sam on the reclining chair.
The doctor was true to her word, everything went as she said, and barely more than a half hour later Sam was looking through her purse for Maggie’s card. “Hi Miss Maggie, I’m all done.”
“Wonderful Samantha. Did you make your next appointment?”
“Yes I did.”
“Good! Miss Mona wants to stay a few more minutes. I’ll come get you and we can wait in the cafeteria.”
The two had a nice talk over a cup of coffee. “Your hair is just gorgeous, Samantha,” Maggie gushed. “Who did your highlighting? I love it? Is that a bit of red in there?”
Maggie was very impressed with Sam and the progress he was making. “He is going to be a beautiful, beautiful boy,” she thought to herself. “His hair really is pretty. And he already is down to 26 inches on his corset, a wonderful size. Anything much lower is a Jessica Rabbit caricature. It helped that he was thin to begin with, but Lisa has a few more pounds off him already. His beard is gone, his skin will soon be soft and flawless. Yes, his feminization is going along just wonderfully. Samantha will make a beautiful bride and concubine. Lisa should be very proud of her accomplishments.”
And it wasn’t just Maggie who complimented Sam on his hair. Miss Mona gave him rave reviews, Chas complimented him as he entered the limo, and even Jennifer praised him when he went riding the next day. In fact all of the servants complimented Sam. All of the constant reminders and praises and compliments were meant to continuously reinforce his opinion of his feminine beauty and feminization process. His entire environment was built around convincing him that not only did he make a convincing girl, but that he liked being a girl. Sam was being given compliments, money and a taste of power to help convince him to become a Hawthorne girl and concubine.
And the process was working.
After sipping their coffee, Maggie asked if Sam would help her in the kitchen and Sam agreed. He would have to wear his maid uniform, but that was no big deal to Sam. But it was a big deal to Lisa and Mona and Maggie. Like the rest of Sam’s feminization, it started with the acclimatization process. He would be introduced to his maid uniform innocently enough. He would be asked to wear it more and more often and eventually it would become a requirement.
One of Sam’s future responsibilities to Lisa would be to handle the household staff and some of the chores. Along with housekeeping duties, he would need to act as a handmaiden to Lisa, helping her dress and style her hair and apply her makeup. Sometimes it would be for formal occasions and other times just to help out Lisa. But Maid Samantha would need to be wearing a uniform when she carried out her duties.
“Do you golf?” Maggie asked Sam.
“I’ve tried, but I’m not very good at it.”
“Maybe tomorrow afternoon we can go hit some balls. And tomorrow morning, would you like to go riding?”
“Sure.”
“I’d like to join you if I may. I haven’t been out riding in … in way too long.”
“Sure, that would be nice.”
“And in the afternoon we should practice driving a standard. We can practice hill stops and starts.”
“I’d like that,” Sam said.
“Excellent. We will have a wonderful day together.” Sam’s future father in law wanted to bond with his future son in law. Maggie would be Sam’s future relief valve when the inevitable bumps in the road arrived.
That evening Sam tried to text Bill, and when that failed he tried to call him. He still didn’t get through. “Strange,” he thought. He could try again tomorrow.
Sam was allowed to sleep in on Wednesday morning. He woke up with a red face and stiff, itchy skin. He ran through his normal routine, and while in the tub he used a washcloth to softly scrub away some of the dead skin. He applied his prescription moisturizer but didn’t put on any makeup. Only lipstick was allowed on the first day. If Sam was allowed only one cosmetic, lipstick was the best and most important in his mind’s eye.
Miss Maggie was in the library working when Sam came downstairs for breakfast. He was dressed for riding, with his riding skirt and a soft, cream-colored blouse. Maggie finished her work, then took Sam into the kitchen. “I’m going to show you how to cook your own eggs, Samantha. It’s not hard.”
After breakfast Maggie handed Sam a spray bottle of suntan lotion. “This will be easier to apply than one of those thick creams. Make sure to cover your entire face.” Sam retired to the powder room to apply the lotion and use the toilet. Upon returning, Maggie led her to another room at the back of the house. It was full of outdoor clothing. Everything from work boots and gloves and garden clothes up to nice and fashionable rain and winter coats were there. The selection stopped short of expensive furs, but the selection was extensive. And it included hats. Lots of hats.
“You need a wide brimmed hat, Samantha. A riding hat won’t do. Let’s find you something with a strap to keep it from falling off. These wide brims have a way of catching the wind.”
Maggie picked out several hats and had Sam model them. Sam was happy with all of them, but Maggie made it clear that they had to pick out a stylish hat that would go with his riding clothes. In the end, they settled for utility as opposed to style, but it was still a nice hat.
Maggie took Sam’s hand and they walked hand in hand out to the stable. Sam felt a bit awkward having his hand held, but he couldn’t say no to Miss Maggie. Maggie did it to see how soft his hand was. She wanted to know if his salon treatments were working.
Sam would have flipped if he had known that he was really holding hands with a guy. He had to get over his “male problem”.
Maggie brought up one other topic on the way to the stable. “Samantha, did you use your gargle and spray this morning?”
“Sure, I always do.”
“Might I suggest that you not use them for the rest of your stay here?”
“Sure, I guess so. Why do you ask?”
“Just to give you more practice without any artificial aids. Sometimes people begin to rely on their crutches too much, and they don’t progress. I think you are close to the point where you might be able to stop using the spray, but you need to practice for several days first, I think.”
“Ok.” It was one less thing for Sam to mess around with.
Jennifer was happy to see Sam, and she greeted him enthusiastically, complimenting him profusely on his corseted waist. “You’re looking curvy,” she told him. Jennifer did not prep any of the horses in advance. Toady she wanted to show Sam how to saddle his own horse. Sam saddled up Abigail, and Maggie saddled up Ginger. Maggie was comfortable on a horse, but she was no equestrian like Lisa.
Sam and Maggie trotted around the stable corral, and Jennifer gave them a few tips and tasks. Jennifer just had to give a lesson, even though neither girl was interested. When Jennifer set them free, Maggie headed out in a different route than usual. Lisa always took Sam on the bridle paths around the property. Maggie led them along the roads and gave Sam a tour of the property, the buildings and they even rode past the servant’s homes.
Maggie’s tour was filled with history and anecdotes from her time there. It was an interesting tour and Maggie was full of funny stories. All of the servants went out of their way to greet Sam and Maggie. Everyone had heard about Sam, but many had not yet met him, so they were all very interested in seeing if the stories were true. The secret consensus was Samantha was as pretty as they had heard.
Maggie took Sam by the garages where her antique cars were kept, and through the windows she pointed out some of her favorites. They rode through the gardens where by all rights Maggie should not have gone. But Maggie was given deferential treatment; she was the boss lady after all. The flowers were blooming, the vegetables were popping up and tiny apples were forming on the trees. It was a warm day, fragrant and pleasant. Both girls enjoyed their leisurely ride.
After their ride, they changed into their maid uniforms. Maggie wanted to show Sam how to pan fry catfish for lunch. She deep fried some string potatoes and added her secret tarragon and sea salt seasoning on the fries. The two of them sat in the shade by the pool and ate their fish and drank their tea. Maggie talked about cars and computers and big screen televisions. Maggie carried the conversation and Sam politely listened along. It was all very fascinating and Sam learned a lot.
After lunch, Maggie wanted to take Sam out to their country club and hit a few balls at the driving range. So they exchanged their maid uniforms for short skirts and blouses. It seemed like all Sam was doing was changing clothes … and spraying suntan lotion on his face. He could feel his skin and even if it wasn’t painful, it was uncomfortable.
Sam found a floral skirt and a violet golf shirt for their outing. Maggie again held hands with Sam as they walked down to the garages. Maggie picked out another Corvette, this time a deep blue 1972 vintage. It was not a convertible, which is what Maggie wanted. Because of Sam’s tender face, she didn’t want the wind blowing in his face, or whipping Sam’s hair around and striking his face. Maggie drove the car out of the garage, while Sam opened and closed the garage doors for her. Once Maggie had the car outside, she gave the driver’s seat to Sam. “Follow this road here, Samantha. It will take us to a small hill where you can practice stops and starts.”
Maggie was exceptionally patient and calm as Sam repeatedly popped the clutch and jerked the car to sudden stops. “Not a problem, Samantha. Just try it again. It’s the only way to learn.” They would work on the hill until Sam became frustrated, then Maggie would have him drive around the property. Then they came back to the hill and tried again.
Sam was getting better, but he was not yet ready for the open road. “I’ll drive to the country club,” Maggie said as they switched seats. “There are several hill stops on the way there.”
The country club was what Sam had expected ... rich. There was a gate in front of the property, and you could only drive a short ways before coming to the gatehouse. The gentleman pleasantly welcomed Maggie, signed her in and then lifted the gate. The clubhouse was a huge stone castle but Sam didn’t get the opportunity to see the inside.
“We can tour the club some other time,” she told Sam. “We’ll wait until your face isn’t so red.” Maggie drove over to the driving range and parked the car. “The driving range is covered, so you don’t need a hat,” Maggie told Sam. There was a small office and pro-club there, and they entered the building.
“Miss Hawthorne, welcome,” a friendly small man said. “Is this lovely young lady one of your daughters?” he asked.
“No Mikey, not yet,” and she smiled at Sam. “This charming young lady is Samantha. She is a family friend.” Mikey and Sam nodded towards one another. “We want to hit a few balls today. Can you have my clubs brought over? And I need a set for my guest.”
“Right away, Miss Hawthorne.”
Maggie led Sam out the back door onto a covered patio. They found a table and sat down to wait for their clubs. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Sure.”
Maggie pressed a small door bell like button on the table. Mikey appeared quickly and took their orders. A few minutes later he delivered two iced teas. The girls made small talk while they waited for their clubs. “Do you go golfing often?” Sam asked.
“Not really. Maybe half a dozen times a year. I’m not a golf fanatic. The only reason we belong to this club is so Miss Mona can do some entertaining in a private venue. They have a pool which I have never used … in fact I don’t think any of us have ever been in it. Their restaurant is pretentious and the food is mediocre.”
“Spoken like a true chef,” Sam said.
“You’re correct there. Most of the members are nouveaux rich and they’re either obnoxious, arrogant or sycophants. The favorite past time of people who believe they are rich, is to measure their wealth against others. Miss Michelle hides our family wealth extremely well. No one outside the family has ever come close in guessing our true worth. The Forbes 500 estimates are a joke. But the people here know we have the most money. So they either test you with their hubris, or they suck up to you shamefully. The club would be a lot better with different members.
“The golf course is first rate. The caddies are all smart mouthed brats. They have no manners at all. But you have to use a caddy — club rules. You have to spend a certain amount each month on golf and food and we never reach our quota.”
“What happens then?”
“You pay the difference. It’s not the money that bothers me, it’s the fact that I am paying for something that I don’t get or use. The corporation owns the membership, but it is in Miss Mona’s name. So the money isn’t a big deal, but I wasn’t brought up to throw money away.”
“Can I ask how you were brought up? Did you come from a rich family? Are you from the Washington area?”
Maggie gave Sam a pleasant smile, “Not today Samantha. I’m sorry. Some day I’ll give you the complete and sordid details. But it will have to wait.”
“Maggie sure does keep her secrets,” Sam thought. “No one wants to talk about her. I wonder why?”
The golf pro showed up with two sets of clubs. He delivered Maggie’s then asked, “Would either of you like lessons today?”
“Sure,” Maggie answered. “Samantha here is new to golf, and perhaps you could watch her and offer a few tips. But please don’t overwhelm her with all kinds of details. She is just starting, let her have some fun too.”
“Not a problem,” he answered. He turned to Sam and said, “My name is Larry. I’ll stand back here and watch if you don’t mind. Then maybe we can try a few things.”
Sam hit a bucket of balls with his driver, then another bucket using some irons. The pro helped too much and Maggie had to remind him twice to back off. But Sam did pick up some nice tips and he had an enjoyable time.
Maggie drove them back to the estate, and suggested that Sam rest or study for a couple of hours. At 4:00 Maggie was going to start dinner and she invited Sam to help her. “Don’t forget your uniform,” Maggie reminded him.
The girls cooked and sipped wine and talked the afternoon away. Maggie mentioned that Miss Eunice was a sailing fanatic and she had boats all over the world, including BVI and Tahiti. “I would love to go sailing,” Sam suggested with a bit of hope.
“I am sure that can be arranged sometime,” Maggie answered.
“Damn! I like these people,” Sam joked to himself.
They ran through their new routine once Miss Mona returned from work. After eating and chatting, all three girls returned to their studies or libraries and finished their homework. Sam talked on the phone to Lisa for the longest time before going to bed. The last thing he did before turning in was call Bill. Bill still was not returning his calls. “Is he pissed because I didn’t come back to school?” Sam asked himself. He sent a text apologizing for being MIA, but he never received an answer. After a few days Sam quit trying.
Thursday and Friday were more of the same. Maggie went out of her way to bond with Sam. Unlike Sam’s time with Lisa, Maggie and he spent their time on “non-girl” things. Or at least that is how Sam viewed their time together. Sam and Lisa went shopping and tried on clothes and went to movies and on Thursday nights went to the union with the sorority girls and maybe danced together. Maggie and Sam drove expensive antique cars, hit golf balls and talked computers and electronics. Maggie picked his brain on electronic trends such as music downloading (big), tweeting (weak - only old people did it), texting (everyone did it), 3-D movies (would it sell in TVs?) and even sexting (cool but be careful!).
About the only things in common between Maggie and Lisa were horseback riding and eating salads. Maggie pushed salads on Sam as adamantly as Lisa. Sam was getting neither accustomed nor satisfied with salads. Hamburgers, pizza and wings would have been a welcome relief. But alas, they didn’t seem to be on Maggie’s menu. The feminizers were still trying to take weight and bulk off Sam. The Hawthornes liked their boys thin and well endowed above and below. The upper endowment part would come later. The lower endowment was dependent on statistics and luck; otherwise known as genes.
Maggie also had a habit of holding Sam’s hand when they walked together. Sam found it odd at first, but eventually he accepted it. He decided that it was just one of those touchy-feely things that girls, and especially older generation girls, liked to do. Maggie led him around as if he were her daughter; which of course was Maggie’s intention. It was another ruse to control Sam and remind him that someone else would lead him and make decisions for him. Sam was being trained to be submissive to other girls’ commands.
Sam spent time texting Lisa during the day, and talking on the phone at night. At night is when he really missed her. Maggie was a nice companion during the day, and Miss Mona was being even nicer than normal, but he did miss his girlfriend. So he was disappointed when Lisa said that she would not be returning for the weekend. “I have finals coming up and I want to ace everything.”
“But you’re graduating, and you already have a job,” he whined. “You don’t have to ace everything.”
“You do if you are going to graduate school.”
“Are you really going to grad school?”
“Of course. It’s been part of my plans since I was a little girl.”
“Where are you going?”
Lisa could hear the pain in Sam’s voice. She decided that telling him over the phone would be too brutal for him. Harvard was too far away for Sam to think about. So she mislead him into thinking some place close by home.
But Sam still wasn’t happy. “But why do you need to go to grad school at all?”
“Because when I get older I plan on becoming President. An advanced degree will help me with the Northeast demographic. And you can be the First Lady,” she quipped.
Sam didn’t find any of that very funny. But on the other hand, Lisa was being honest with Sam. Mona had planned for many years to put her daughter in the White House. And Lisa wanted it too. Sam had just been told the truth about his future. If all went well, he would be the “default” First Lady. Lisa would be long divorced from her public marriage to her ex-husband Jeff Winter, and she would take her two or three children and move into the White House for hopefully eight profitable years. Of course her two or three children would belong to the fruits of Sam’s loins. Lisa’s marriage to Jeff Winter would be a decoy and nothing more.
And of course, she would need her right-hand girl with her. Her executive secretary, hand maiden, lover and concubine, the exquisitely beautiful and talented Samantha Springer would join her. And when she had enough energy left over after a day of dealing with world problems, Lisa would secretly invite Samantha to her bed, where Samantha would pleasure his mistress the way he had been taught.
Of course like many things placed before Sam, he missed their truth and importance. He was just worried about missing Lisa and their sexual liaisons. School was going to be pitiful and boring without his girlfriend there with him. But Sam wouldn’t be bored and he wouldn’t be back at the school he imagined. Sam would be in training. Poor naive Sam still had no inkling of where his life or Lisa was taking him.
Sam was a pawn in a brutal and yet loving passion play. He was effeminate to begin with (if he wasn’t he never would have been identified and chosen by Lisa) and now his destiny called for him to be feminized and subjugated. He would be turned into an obedient, beautiful and epicene submissive, but in return his life would be blessed and wonderful. He would be beautiful, and beauty opened so many doors and commanded so much authority, that his life would be more powerful than anything he could have accomplished on his own. And if his awesome beauty didn’t bring him what he wanted or desired, his family power and money would. All he had to do was spend the rest of his life respectively saying “Yes” to Lisa and her family members.
Sam had an upcoming weekend without his main - his only - squeeze. But Mona and Maggie would keep him occupied. Friday was drinking and party night in the political world of Washington D.C. Saturday night was dating — and sex - night. Mona had invited some Representatives to blow off some steam and watch a Washington Wizards playoff game in the Hawthorne loge. Normally they would have gone out with some of their male lobbyist friends, but no one with any ambition ever turned down Miss Mona Hawthorne.
Miss Mona knew what the boys needed, and along with the obvious was money. Mona funded so many money raising events that no one could turn down an invite from Miss Mona. She wanted to take the boys out for some dining and drinking and she wanted Samantha along. There were many reasons and much subterfuge to Miss Mona’s multi-level intentions. But first and foremost was her desire to impress Sam. She wanted Sam to meet the power brokers of the free world. Secondly, she wanted Sam to see how easily they were controlled by Mona. By the end of the night, his respect for our elected officials would slip a nickel or two. And his desire to be “one of the boys” would be diminished also.
But his pride and satisfaction in being a Hawthorne would be enhanced. It was preordained. It was easy. It was fun and desirable. Any silly filly could see it as plainly as the polish on her pretty manicured nails.
Sam went riding with Maggie in the morning, then driving and then they cooked up — salads. After lunch Sam picked up his clothes and makeup and loaded a Gull Wing Mercedes. Sam was almost ready to drive the awesome antique, but they were heading into D.C. so Maggie drove her favorite little beauty into the city. Maggie carried Sam’s clothes up to her office, while Sam headed off to his salon appointment.
The salon was becoming one of Sam’s favorite refuges in the whole-wide world. Sam opened the door and immediately took a deep breath. Ugly, weird, unusual, ammoniacal odors that should have irritated and chased away patrons, but conditioning — acclimatization — had convinced not only women and girls, but effeminate boys that this was the most seductive and wonderful place in the world. Sam had been seduced, and now he was being feminized. Shhhh — Sam loves his current situation — don’t tell anyone.
With apprehension he approached the front desk and Florence. “Miss Samantha, how wonderful to have you back. How was your facial peel? Are you recovering ok?” Florence had completely forgotten — or forgiven — their last encounter. Sam was greatly relieved.
Sam decided that he had to reciprocate and show Florence his appreciation — and understanding. “Hi Florence. My you look exceptionally beautiful today — just like always. I love your dress. Sexy girl!”
“Thank you Miss Samantha.” Apology accepted. Let’s be friends again. “I have a date tonight.”
“Good for you, “Sam answered. He knew who the “date” was. And he understood that Florence was happy. Even if he was a rude and arrogant son of a bitch, Florence liked him, and that was fine. It was acceptable. Different strokes for different folks and all that. “Do you have anything interesting scheduled for tonight?” That was code for, “Are we going to the same place tonight?”
“Dinner and a play. Romance tonight!” and she flashed a huge smile.
Sam couldn’t help but smile also. “Go for it! Enjoy!”
“I intend to,” she answered.
Greta came and collected Sam. “Miss Samantha, it is so nice to see you again. I’m going to give you a beautiful manicure, and you’re going to tell me everything you have been up to since your last visit. Is it a deal?”
“Of course,” Sam laughed. He was becoming a regular and everyone was friends. It was kind of fun. And so he decided to be honest and tell her everything he had been up to. And Greta was intrigued with Sam’s stories even though he needed to work on his delivery — Sam was not a natural story teller. What Sam didn’t realize was that Greta was as interested in Maggie’s activities as in Samantha’s life. Maggie was the most important person in the life of so many pretty boys, and Greta was one of those boys. Their gracious lives were courtesy of an angel named Maggie. They owed Maggie so much, and she was so kind to them that they naturally wanted to hear about her. Greta loved Sam’s narration and she repeated it several times after Sam had left.
After his manicure, he was given to the tall and shapely Julia. Sam enjoyed her Brazilian accent and husky voice. Julia was going to do Sam’s makeup. Since his skin was still a little raw because of his peel, Julia was using special cosmetics with a bit more oil than usual. Sam and Julia had a fun talk, although Sam missed many of her comments because of her heavy accent.
Julia used a light colored, but slightly oily foundation to build upon. “Miss Samantha what are you doing tonight?” she asked.
“Dinner at a restaurant and then we’re going to the Wizard’s game.”
“Are you going to the company loge?”
“Yeah.” Sam was surprised that she knew about it.
“I’m a big basketball fan. I have been to the company loge. Cool! You will enjoy. So that means mostly fluorescent lights. That helps. It makes a difference on these high oil cosmetics. Don’t worry I will make you beautiful Miss Samantha. You are my favorite client, I make you top shelf.”
Sam laughed and let Julia do her “top shelf” thing. When she had finished Sam’s makeup, she fluffed up Sam’s curls and sprayed them with a light but shiny oil. It gave Sam’s hair a beautiful (almost wet) sheen.
Sam thanked all of the girls, signed their invoices and left. Up the elevator to the executive floor and the receptionist she went. “Hi Miss Samantha, go right in,” she said. She buzzed Sam through the door. Sam didn’t have to use his security card and his secret password; sexygirl.
He walked down the wainscoted hall to an alcove for Executive Vice President Maggie Hawthorne. A beautiful girl met him and said, “Hello Miss Samantha.” It seemed like everyone knew who he was. It was kind of an ego boost. And the girl looked like one of Maggie’s girls. She had that perfect complexion that seemed to be an earmark of Maggie girls. She also buzzed Sam through the security door and into the office of Maggie’s executive secretary.
He received another, “Welcome Miss Samantha. Please wait a moment while I buzz Miss Maggie”
“Wonderful, send her in,” Maggie’s voice said. The secretary smiled and buzzed Samantha into the next office.
Maggie was standing and gave Sam a huge smile. “Hi Samantha. If you go through the bathroom there is a bedroom on the other side. You can dress there.”
“Thank you,” and Sam walked into the other room. He had peaked into this room the last time he had been here. But now he had a chance to look around. There was a large canopied bed that occupied much of the room. There was a dresser and armoire and on one side of the bed were two photography lights mounted on tripods. He noticed that there were hooks on the walls and pictures were missing. There was even a slight outline of where the paint had faded around the missing pictures. “That’s on purpose,” Sam said aloud. “Maggie has to be hiding something from me.”
Sam walked over to the windows and pushed aside the sheers so he would have an unobstructed view of Washington. It was a great view of the capital in the distance. “Money, money, money,” he murmured. “Everything they do is first class and so friggin’ cool. So what are they hiding? Are they CIA? Or SPECTRE? James Bond maybe? Or more likely Pussy Galore.” He grinned at his cleverness and turned back to the big canopy bed occupying the room. His dress and bags were lying on the bed.
Sam’s dress was a simple black sheath with a single shoulder strap featuring a cutout. The dress was formfitting, and accented his thin waist and ample bosom. The straight-line skirt ended at his knees and hid his lack of hips. It was simple but elegant, a bit too fancy for the sports arena, but perfect for the new intern to wear to the upscale restaurant beforehand. It established Sam as fashionable, attractive yet sensible, and understated yet cultured. He added suntan hose, clipped them into the garters on his corset and stepped into open-toed heels to finish his simple ensemble; chic but classy. Sam had decided to add his new earrings and engagement ring to add just a bit more pizzazz.
Maggie was impressed. “What a doll,” she thought. “I swear he is becoming more attractive every day. There is nothing like a little black dress to emphasize the figure with class and fashion. I adore that figure of his; half way between teen and woman; youthful and exuberant with that hidden promise of experience that comes with maturity. And look at that walk! What a girl! He makes an absolute femme fatale with that little extra something between the legs.
“Samantha Hawthorne is going to be an epicene beauty of classic curves, grace and eroticism. I know I would desire him.”
But she also saw something else. Maggie no longer believed Sam’s reticent indifference to his transformation into a beautiful girl. Sam’s strutting walk and hip sway obviously proved that he enjoyed his new appearance and persona enough to jiggle and wiggle his teenage concupiscence to try and titillate his admirers.
“Wonderful,” she said out loud. “Samantha you are the prettiest thing on two legs. I would say you were sexy and vivacious, if I said those kind of things that is,” Maggie laughed. “You look very elegant. I like you dressed for elegant. How do you like your appearance and dress?”
“It’s ok; for a girl’s dress that is.”
Maggie could see through his transparent act, but she played along. “It’s better than ok. And you make it better than great. Don’t sell yourself short Miss Samantha. You look beautiful in that dress.
“Before I send you off to Miss Mona, may I take your picture? You are truly a vision of beauty.” She picked up her large format camera from her desk.
“Sure.”
Maggie led Sam back into her bedroom and had him sit on the edge of the bed. She flipped on the large lights and then posed Sam for a couple of pictures. Sam crossed his legs, and placed his hands on the bed and reclined backwards just a bit. Whether Sam knew it or not, Maggie was soliciting a come-hither look from Sam. “He makes a pretty vixen,” Maggie thought as she took a couple of pictures.
“Well, I hope you have an interesting and educational evening. Miss Mona and Miss Michelle are waiting for you. Let me send you to them.”
Maggie showed Sam the door and pointed in the right direction. “Office number 3.”
Maggie quickly moved back into her office and called his wife and mistress. “Miss Mona, Samantha is on her way. You might want to take a look at her attitude. I think she is starting to strut her stuff just a little too much. She seems to be moving into those sexy teenage years.”
As Sam walked down the hall, he passed a couple of alcoves — reception areas for other offices. “Hello Miss Samantha,” rang out from every alcove. Sam was duly impressed with every pretty receptionist. Sam reached office number 3 and the receptionist Kristin was waiting for him. She too was a beautiful, thin girl, with a raspy voice. “Welcome Miss Samantha. Please go right in.”
Sam was starting to note a pattern to the girls he saw. They were all very beautiful, that much was obvious. But they had many similar characteristics. They all seemed to be a little taller than normal (not much but a bit) they were thin (thinner than most girls) and curvy and they were all big breasted. Almost every girl had long hair. Some girls wore it curly, and some wore it straight with bangs; but they all wore it past the shoulders. And on top of that they all seemed to have what Sam was now calling “salon-skin” It was that beautifully clear skin and complexion that he had first noticed on the salon girls.
“Everyone must be using the doctor’s facial peel regimen,” Sam thought. He was correct.
Miss Mona’s executive secretary Sophie also enthusiastically welcomed Sam. Like the first time they had met, Sam was impressed with Sophie’s mature beauty. For a forty-something she still had the presence and beauty of a movie star. Her appearance was an exception to Sam’s previous observation, but mostly because of Sophie’s age. Her look was more mature. Like the first time they had met, Sam noticed her eyes. They just pulled you in and said, “I am sexy as hell!” Sam loved her eyes!
Sophie buzzed Sam into Miss Mona’s office. Sam entered and found Miss Mona and Miss Michelle sitting in comfortable wing back chairs sipping tea. Both women remained seated as Sam walked over. Miss Mona held her hand up and Sam took it and squeezed it gently. Miss Michelle did the same, then motioned Sam into another chair. Sam smoothed his skirt and sat. He crossed his legs with his best feminine mannerisms. Mona and Michelle glanced at one another.
“My you look nice today, Samantha,” Miss Mona said.
“Thank you,” Sam replied.
“Are those your new earrings?”
“Yes.”
“And your “decoy” ring?”
“Yes,” Sam said as he flashed it for the two women.
“Very nice, Samantha. Let me outline our plans for the evening.” Miss Mona explained a few things and Miss Michelle added some additional thoughts. They wanted Sam to probe their guests on a couple of points. They would be going to the restaurant first, then the six of them would walk to the game. At the loge would be hostesses for the Congressional Representatives to chat with.
After a brief outline, Miss Michelle and Miss Mona spent at least twenty minutes giving Sam an in depth briefing on his assignment. They had a new congressman on their guest list and they needed to find some more information about him. Both women felt that Sam had the best chance of getting the information they wanted. So they prepped Sam as best they could.
After prepping Sam for his assignment, Mona changed the subject. “How you present yourself will be very important Samantha, and not just tonight, but in business in general. Even though we are socially the equal of these men, we will not act like them. Men like to pretend they control our relationship. Society has raised men to believe they are superior to women. They think they dominate and women submit. That is not true for Hawthorne women.” Miss Mona’s tone and posture made it very apparent to Sam that this was extremely important.
“Hawthorne women do not submit to any man. But neither do we act like them. They can be loud, crass, arrogant and domineering. Samantha, it is very important that you understand that we do not act like that. Hawthorne women are calm, cultured, reserved and demure. That doesn’t mean we let men push us around. But it does mean that we can act and look superior.
“Samantha, how are you sitting?”
“What do you mean?”
“Where are your legs?”
“Crossed?”
“And where is the hem of your dress?”
Sam looked and saw his dress hem a few inches above his knee. He was starting to sense where Mona was going. Sam said nothing. He looked at Michelle’s legs and then Mona’s.
“How are Miss Michelle and I sitting?”
“Miss Michelle has her legs crossed and you have yours side by side.”
“And where are our hemlines?”
“Below your knees.”
“As yours should be. We are not out on a date and trying to seduce our boy friends, or in your case, girl friend. Understand?”
“Yes ma’am,” and the chastised Sam uncrossed his legs and pulled his hem down a little.
“Samantha, when you walked in here you were strutting like a model on a runway … or something else I will not dignify. I appreciate the fact that you are becoming more comfortable in your female role, and I want to compliment you on your beauty and confidence. You’re doing beautifully. But you will have to tone it down. We are not trying to interest any of these men tonight. Hawthorne women do not have to stoop to seduction to get what we want.
“Do we understand one another?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good. Now that we have an understanding I want to add one more thing.”
Sam winced. “Yes ma’am?”
“Samantha, I am totally amazed, awed and proud of you. I want to make that perfectly clear. All of us have gone through a period in our life when we first realized that we were pretty damn cute … and sexy. It is human nature that we enjoy the wonders and joys of our femininity, and that we wish to … display these gifts. Don’t hold back, Samantha. Enjoy your life. I merely request that you realize that there is a time and place for everything. Tonight: demure. In two weeks: Paris. You and Lisa will know what to do there.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sam was obviously relieved.
“Paris?” Miss Michelle asked.
“Lisa’s graduation gift.”
Miss Michelle gave Sam a big grin. “Samantha dear, you are going to LOVE Paris.” She looked to Mona and said in a most wistful voice, “Paris, young and in love. I only wish …”
“Don’t we all,” Mona said softly. Both women smiled at Sam. He felt much better.
“One final reminder Samantha, did you bring your gargle and spray?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I know Miss Maggie thinks you should wean yourself off the gargle, and I agree with the concept, but not tonight. Tomorrow, you can drop it again.”
“I agree,” Sam said and excused himself to use the bathroom. He closed the door behind him then quickly tip-toed across the bathroom to the opposite door. He peaked in the door and saw a room much like Maggie’s. There was a bed and armoires, but also pictures on the wall. Sam took a quick look. The pictures were family members; Lisa, a girl that had to be Harriet, and the shock of all shocks. Straight across the room was a large picture of two women, both in a wedding dress, embracing each other and kissing. One of the women was Miss Mona and the other was … “Oh my God!”
That evening, after dressing for bed, Sam called his lover. Sam wanted to talk with Lisa about his interesting and exciting day. But Sam knew there was one item that he could not discuss. He understood so much (he thought) and as much as he wanted to discuss his new found information, he knew that he could not bring it up. He now understood the secret behind Maggie.
At least he thought he did.
“… and I was given my first assignment,” Sam announced proudly.
“What?” Lisa asked as she sat on her bed and filed her nails.
“After we left the restaurant, we broke into three couples. I walked with Congressman Spencer over to the arena.”
“Did you hold hands?” Lisa asked with a teasing overture to her voice.
“No! But I did wrap my arm through his. Your mother and aunt did with their escorts, so I felt that I had to. But then I was supposed to get some personal information from him. He is kind of new to your mother and she wanted to know more about him. So we talked about movies. I was supposed to find out his favorite types of movies, and his favorite actors and actresses. From his answers, Miss Mona can kind of deduce some things about his personal preferences.”
Lisa smiled. “Really? Like what did you find out?”
“Yeah, it was kind of interesting. Your mom gave me lots of tips on how to probe him, plus she gave me the names of some specific movies to ask about. Some of them were before my time, so I really didn’t know much about them.
“His favorite movie was something called “Nine and a Half Weeks.” I’ve never heard of it have you?”
Lisa giggled and played dumb, “No what is it about?”
“I don’t know ‘cause we didn’t get into details. But he likes thrillers. He especially likes Hitchcock. And his favorite actress — I think she was in one of the early Batmans, I’m not sure, but it was Kim Basinger.”
“She’s a babe, Samantha. Trust me,” and she giggled some more. Kim Basinger was the star of 9 ½ Weeks.
“And Sharon Stone also,” Sam added.
“Makes sense,” Lisa thought to herself, and smiled. “What about actors?”
“He named lots of guys. He didn’t seem to have any single favorite.”
“Did you ask him about other movie types?” Lisa knew the routine. “Did he like your favorite?”
“No. He never saw Rocky Horror.”
“Of course not,” Lisa thought. “He’s not into guys wearing women’s clothes, prancing and dancing and singing. Plus the husband was way too wimpy.”
“So did you tell all of this to mom? What did she deduce?” Lisa sniggered.
“Yeah, I told Miss Mona. She smiled but didn’t say much. So I’m not sure what she deduced.”
Sam continued for another half hour before they hung up. Lisa clicked off and fell over on her bed laughing uproariously. “What a wonderfully silly filly, Samantha. Don’t you ever put two and two together? The Congressman is into bondage, with a little S&M thrown in for good measure! He’s into strong sexual people who can handle the kinky side of life. Just the opposite of you my little sissy.
“And of course I know about this personality probing! I ran it on you our first three dates. That’s why you’re here! You’re a sissy that is begging to be dominated by a strong woman that will feminize you. You loved the Graduate. And why? Because a strong mature woman dominated a naíve boy and taught him how to sexually satisfy her. That’s where you learned how to put on your stockings. And what do you think I learned from your fixation with Rocky Horror Picture Show? My little vixen, you like girl’s lingerie.
“And you preferred the prissy Julia Roberts and Pretty Girl over the strong Sigourney Weaver in Alien. In fact you hate thrillers. You like romance and chick flicks. The only movies we go to are where the girl gets her guy! It’s clear that you want to be the girl!
“Samantha, I really wonder about you sometimes.” Samantha laughed like crazy.
Sam retired to Harriet’s bed and turned off the lights. He laid in bed thinking about his day. “Wow! How could I have missed all those signals that Maggie sent? “Mona is like a wife to me and Lisa is like a daughter.” Well of course; you are Miss Mona’s “wife” and you did raise Lisa. You are the “wife” in your relationship; you dress like a maid, do the cooking, run the house and raise the children. It is so perfectly obvious and logical. How could I have missed it all this time?”
Sam was learning, but he still didn’t have things figured out as thoroughly as he thought. Although Sam’s snooping wasn’t anticipated by Lisa or Mona, in the end it wasn’t a problem. Sam was right about one thing, Mona was the “husband” and Maggie was the “wife”. And he accepted Maggie’s domination as normal for this type of relationship. From there, it wouldn’t be as big a jump for him to eventually discover that Lisa would be the dominant personality in their relationship, and he would be the submissive “wife”. Sam would become Samantha, the submissive and feminized wife and concubine belonging to Lisa. Because of a little snooping, Sam’s indoctrination actually continued on a slightly accelerated pace. Lucky Sam!
Comments
By the narrator's tone ...
... apparently he or she thinks it's a wonderful thing to be tricked into a life of submission, as long as there are ample crumbs from the Mistress's table. I wonder if Sam will think the same, in the end? Still, even if he's subconsciously that way inclined (as Lisa and company seem to think), it's hardly right to make him think he's loved as anything other than a pet.
SPOILER FOLLOWS ...
Oh, and how "nice" it was that Maggie was able to keep Mona from calling the mercenary to kill Bill after all. And Maggie was able to get him what every cross-dresser wants - a life sentence in skirts as a menial domestic instead. I see the concept of noblesse oblige works soooo well for the Hawthorne women!
*grinding my teeth, wishing someone would tie MONA up and slap her around*
Randa
Every so often, this story
Every so often, this story kicks me in the teeth and reminds me that the Hawthornes are not nice people. And after her indoctrination, Samantha will not be so nice either.
PLEASE DON'T LET ...
... THE BAD GIRLS WIN! I really thought Sam was going to find out at least part of what was really going on and how they really feel about him when you had him left alone in Maggie's rooms. But no, it seems you have Sam destined to go mindlessly into the gilded cage. I hope I'm wrong. Evil wins too often in real life to let it win in fiction, too. These women are amoral; they are nice or not depending only on what pleases them. They only care for Sam insofar as he pleases and becomes totally subserviant to Lisa. I don't think they would hesitate to kill Sam (or worse) if he decided to break up with Lisa, and I don't think they would think themselves evil to do so. As I mentioned before, very Orwellian.
These women remind me of Fleurie's women in "Deception of Choice" - Mona = Grace - And of course, Vickie Tern's women.
BE a lady!
The Hawthornes
From the descriptions given, it sounds as though Sam's future life will be significantly less free than the other 'girls'. Sure, he won't have to bed Senators in the evenings, but it seems as though the Hawthornes have already determined his career, whereas the other 'girls' are apparently supported in the career of their choosing.
I certainly don't like what's happening to Bill - surely it would have been better to have set him up as one of "Maggie's Girls". Sooner or later it would be nice for them to spill the beans as to the setup of their family to Sam - so why not bring Bill into the family as well?
I'm hoping that all the pointers given in the story to Sam's future life are what the Hawthornes predict, as opposed to what actually happens. Although it's impossible to predict exactly what will happen in each episode, we're lead to believe that Sam is on a production line, and nothing will stop the Hawthornes from producing the "perfect" final product.
I hope we don't end up with Sam as a perfectly happy, submissive maidservant whose only relief is sex with Lisa. Besides which, once they start on hormones, even traditional sex will be beyond him soon. Their intentions also seem muddled - on the one hand Mona seems to want Sam to learn politics, intern at her office, and maybe have a political career of her own. Then on the other hand, they seemingly expect Sam to willingly drop his career to play maid if/when Lisa becomes President.
It would be a welcome relief if somehow their plans went awry. The salon girls have already made a blunder by saying a little too much to Sam, which he's bought (for the time being). Humans aren't infallible, so there's a (small) chance that something will go wrong with their grand scheme for Sam (and perhaps Bill). About the only reason I'm still reading this is in anticipation of something that will upset the proverbial apple cart.
EAFOAB Episode Summaries
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!