Author: Sailbad
Title: Dana and the Angel of Lost Girls - Looking for Love
Part: 1 of 3
Universe: Life of Violett
Summary: A detailed story of a pretty, young hermaphrodite woman 
with a wounded spirit who strugles with a world that does not come 
to grips with her dual sexuality and sets out on an adventure. Chapter 
2 and 3 are where this story gets rolling.
Keywords: nosex, herm, prost


Dana and the Angel of Lost Girls, Part 1
By Sailbad@storiesonline.org

Part 1 - Looking for Love

Dana pulled out of the parking lot and out into traffic.  Just a short 
jaunt down Third Street and then on to the interstate.  She had been 
anxiously waiting all week for after work Friday, the day when she 
would set off on her great adventure.  It was quite an incredible 
undertaking.  If any of her friends knew what she was up to they would 
never have believed it; she could hardly believe she was going through 
with this herself.  But if nothing else life had made her very brave 
and considering her circumstances; her plan was not all that incredible 
but still very bold.  Dana was going to the big city for the weekend, 
to find and make love to another woman.  

Her mind was set on the notion.  She had planned it for months and even 
made a reconnaissance trip to iron out the details.  She probably could 
have found a suitable partner from among the eclectic collection of 
coeds on the college campus but Laramie, Wyoming was a small city and 
it was hard to keep such misadventures quiet.  No, Dana was driving to 
Denver.  It was the biggest city in the region.  Whatever she wanted - 
they had it in Denver.  Apart from finding a discrete partner she also 
wanted the option to be as discriminating as possible.  Her mother had 
always told her that if she was going to try something for the first 
time, give it a fair chance and try the very best.  She thought that, 
surely, from the larger sample of lesbians in a big city she would have 
the best prospect of finding a highly skilled and appealing companion.  
Her plan was perfect.  She would have a little fling and then 
discretely sneak back home.  No one would ever know.  

She accelerated to speed, adjusted her mirror, and checked her watch.  
She should be arriving around 7:30.  Plenty of time to check in, change 
her clothes and hit the night.  Dana thought about her evening’s plans.  
She did not know exactly what or who she would encounter but she knew 
how.  She knew that if she positioned herself well her natural graces 
were always enough to propel circumstances in her favor.  

She was by no means a raving beauty but she was cute, in fact, darned 
cute if she had to admit it.  She wore her short, curly red hair in a 
sassy fluff around her head.  Her face was round with full cheeks and a 
broad expressive mouth.  Her big, playful eyes were a vivid blue and 
her brows slanted upwards toward her nose giving her face an overall 
warm, empathic appearance.  She did not have a figure that provoked 
lustful stares.  Her breasts were small and her hips narrow but she had 
legs like a dancer and she could really use them to attract attention 
when she wanted to.  She considered herself well equipped for this 
quest.  She was confident she would succeed in her mission and she 
looked forward to the insight she would gain from this trip.  

Someone might ask, ‘Why would an attractive, heterosexual, 22 year-old, 
small town raised, young professional woman be setting off on such an 
uncharacteristically bold adventure?’  If she had such an urge to 
experiment with her sexuality, why not do it in the carefree days of 
college when such behavior might be more easily excused?  Why at this 
stage of her life after her career had started and her social potential 
being realized?  To Dana, the situation was not so difficult to 
understand.  From her perspective it had always been almost inevitable.  
She was a hermaphrodite.  

Dana was most definitely a woman.  She had ovaries, a uterus, and a 
vagina; exhaustive tests as a girl had verified her sexual identity.  
Her external genitalia were somewhat less distinct.  Firstly, her labia 
were much larger, in fact, enormous by comparison to most women.  They 
were the same shape and in the same position as most women but Dana’s 
were long flaps of pinkish brown skin that could easily stretch beyond 
her panty line if she did not carefully tuck them away.  When she 
became sexually aroused they puffed up and spread apart invitingly like 
the petals of a delicate flower and sweated on the inside the same 
musky secretions as her vagina.  The flaps met at the top of her sexual 
opening where they formed the hood above her clitoris and it was here 
that her genitalia became most ambiguous.  

Dana called her clitoris a penis because that was what it looked like.  
It protruded from her and dangled in front of her sex, it had a soft, 
stretchy skin of an olive complexion, it had a very sensitive glans at 
the end, and it even had a foreskin around the tip.  It had no urethra, 
hers was below just like all other women, but it responded to sexual 
stimulation just like a penis.  When Dana became aroused her penis 
would lengthen, swell, harden and raise itself to point toward her 
naval in a graceful arch; heralding her arousal and prominently begging 
for attention.  It was her biggest and most closely guarded secret; a 
secret that had controlled and shaped every aspect of her life.  And 
now it had become the central guiding focus of her strange weekend 
quest.  To Dana it was a trip she had been planning since she was a 
girl.  After all, one could not have such an organ and not wonder about 
its potential uses.   

Dana was glad for the long drive it gave her time to think, about her 
plans, about her past, about herself.  

It had been a long love/hate relationship between Dana and her 
genitals.  She hated them because they drove away her father.  Unable 
to cope with her indistinct gender, he ran away shortly after she was 
born never to be heard from again.  

She hated them for the sheltered life she had been restricted to.  Her 
mother was very protective and constantly steeled Dana against any 
situation that might compromise her dainty secret or weaken her 
vigilance.  There were so many maturing rituals a young girl should 
partake in that Dana could not because of her secret.  All the slumber 
parties, sports, and of course, teenage lust she had to keep shy of.  
There were a few times necking with some boy she was infatuated with 
when her arousal almost let itself show.  These were warnings to her 
about the fragile nature of her secret and how destructive to her life 
it might be if her supplemental sexuality was ever discovered.  

At the same time she loved her little something extra.  It was not only 
a part of her; it was the epicenter of the most intense delight she had 
ever known.  Her orgasms were tremendous and she attributed them to her 
very sensitive penis.  Many were the nights, sheltered in darkness, 
quietly in her room that her young fingers crept tenderly over her 
flesh to find that tempting treasure. Pulling her panties down she 
would tease her penis into erection with one hand while with the other 
dragging up musky wetness from her flowering vagina and spreading it 
around as a lubricant.  Fully aroused and suitably aided she worked a 
two-pronged attack; on her penis and on her vagina. With one dainty 
finger swirling within the sensitive mouth of her pussy, she pulled and 
rubbed her erect clitoris that rose in an arc toward her navel.  She 
took her time, manipulating herself, prolonging the pleasure, building 
it up to that huge release and the soothing peace that followed.  

There were complications, though.  Her vaginal orgasms were like any 
other woman’s but when her clitoral orgasms struck Dana she would gush 
forth from her urethra, just below her penis.  It of course wasn’t 
sperm, but it wasn’t urine either.  It was a thick slippery substance 
that would, depending on her sexual tension, dribble out quickly and 
run down her slit or sometimes squirt out in rapid jets.  When she 
masturbated, she always kept a wash cloth with her, to catch the mess.  

Dana treasured her climaxes, but she treated herself to them very 
sparingly.  What she had always desired the most was someone to share 
her physical joy with, and masturbation was a distraction she did not 
want to become dependant on.  Sadly, Dana had not been very successful 
in finding that someone.  

Her first foray into love was with a boy she had known since 
kindergarten.  They had always been close friends and started dating 
when they were 16.  They had many necking and guarded light petting 
sessions but Dana never let it go too far until one night three months 
before their graduation.  Dana broke down and let him venture his 
wandering hands past the hem of her skirt.  She tried urgently to 
forewarn him of what he would find; she was so sure she could trust him 
to appreciate her special circumstance and to not freak out over what 
he found.  

She was wrong.  He completely came unglued, called her a fag as if she 
was some boy playing an elaborate hoax on him.  He spat on her and 
pushed her out of his car to walk home alone.  If that was not bad 
enough, by the following Monday the story was all over town.  

Her entire life was abruptly torn up by the roots and destroyed.  Her 
friends abandoned her, people stared, her mother cried almost 
constantly.  Unable to function in the tiny town, she had to test out 
of high school, leave her mother and her home to start college early in 
far away Laramie.  She never went back and she could only visit her 
mother if they met outside town.  It was a cold cruel lesson for her, 
one that left her feeling shattered, robbed, and very alone.  

In college she kept to herself with her nose in her books.  It was hard 
to constantly exclude herself from all the festivities and distractions 
but she knew too well the consequences of letting down her guard.  In 
her junior year she met a young man, a senior, with a promising future 
that she had a strong yearning for and he loved her too.  He was a good 
man, very patient, intelligent and understanding.  This time she 
carefully, gradually exposed him to her condition months before the 
relationship got physical.  He was unafraid and completely discrete.  
When the time was right she offered him her virginity.  She was so 
happy that he addressed her sex bravely.  The encounter was a little 
tense, slightly hesitant.  Not knowing for sure how to address it, he 
would not touch her proudly erect organ protruding prominently in front 
of his own but the rest of his foreplay was thorough and effective.  He 
consummated their love, entered her, broke her hymen and they engaged 
in complete and mutually satisfying intercourse.  

With her erection nestled in the tangle of his pubic hair and her labia 
spread wide around his puffed scrotum, they wrapped their arms around 
each other in a tight lover’s embrace, whispering passionate entreaties 
into each others ears.  After overcoming the brief pain of defloration, 
she regaled in his arms; it was without exception not only the most 
pleasurable experience of her life but also the ultimate completion of 
her being.  He was bringing her in from the cold and welcoming her into 
the human race.  All the cruel years of self repression were washing 
away with his every stroke.  Working with him her body became a 
treasure of joy for her underneath his; giving her pleasure she could 
never have given herself.  They clung together and moved in a smooth, 
undulating syncopation, climbing their lust like a team.  As he churned 
his penis deep within her newly awoken vagina, Dana bucked and ground 
against his every thrust, gyrating her own penis against his coarse, 
clinging curls.  She matched him in his mounting joy, riding his 
passion with him as a devoted partner; she waited to accept his 
culminating ejaculation as a woman.  

She felt him tense and groan, then his emission, a pulsing jet deep 
within her.  The sensation and the realization that came with it pushed 
her over the edge. As he was still enjoying his climax she ground 
against him tightly and triggered her own release.  She came, and as 
usual when she came, she gushed forth her own ejaculation.  In a series 
of quick, gentle spurts her thick, viscose fluid erupted from her 
urethra and into his pressing pubes, slowly dribbling down over his 
testicles.  Simultaneous bliss, the moment was truly theirs, or so she 
would have thought.  

Her release had an immediate, chilling effect on him.  He tried hard 
not to let it show or to hurt her feelings but she knew he was 
uncomfortable with the net effect of their bonding.  Her erection still 
stood defiantly, unrepentant in front of her sex and a gooey glob of 
her discharge soaked the patch of hair above his flagging erection.  Of 
course he was very understanding and gracious to a fault, and his love 
for her was clear and beyond reproach.  But she knew he had a little 
difficulty in facing the reality of her condition.  Sometimes the 
subtle signs of rejection are the most hurtful to a partner’s ego.  
Regardless, they set it aside, and curled up in each other’s arms to 
sleep like lovers.  

She was so happy to be made complete and have consummated their love, 
but from that point on their relationship decayed.  He still loved her 
but the distinctly masculine traits of her sexuality clearly disturbed 
him.  They overcame some of his discomfort by changing their coital 
position – they had sex “doggie style”.  By entering her from behind he 
was spared confrontation with her strangely configured genitalia but it 
left out a great deal of the intimacy that Dana craved so much.  She 
could, of course, stimulate herself, and she did, to share pleasure and 
release with him.  She stroked and massaged her erection with a free 
hand as he thrust against her, he never deterred her.  They had 
frolicking, rancorous sex and he enjoyed himself to his completion.  
Dana achieved hers too, spilling herself against his testicles and 
driving shaft, without his noticing.  As his cum spilled from her and 
mixed with hers, the illusion was complete.  He was still slightly 
chilled by her condition.  He never touched her down there and if he 
ever came into contact with her ejaculate, he recoiled in revulsion.  

They kept their relationship together all the way to his graduation.  
In spite of all his entreaties, appeals and promises of devotion, Dana 
still sensed reluctance in him and loved him enough to let him go.  She 
released him to a life he would not have to constantly defend, to some 
other lover with whom he could be completely free.  It hurt them both 
but she felt it was the honest thing to do.  He left town and 
disappeared from her life.  

Her mourning was dark and cynical.  She began to associate with a 
gloomy crowd of social dissenters and cultural critics.  Among them she 
met and moved in with an attractive, rakish English Literature Major 
who sold used cars to pay his bills.  He drank heavily and smelled of 
stale cigarettes but he had no apprehension about her sex.  He ignored 
her clitoris almost completely.  As far as her ejaculation was 
concerned, he was downright squeamish but undeterred.  He was by no 
means a good or even satisfying lover but she never had to question 
where she stood with him.  As depressed as she was, it would not have 
mattered anyway.  

Their love making was arduous and forced, usually while intoxicated.  
They were somewhat clumsy though very physical lovers, and they went 
through all the motions of intense sex yet something was missing.  She 
had to work too hard to achieve her climax and when it came it was 
physically enjoyable but did not even begin to soothe her emotional 
needs.  It was like being half numb or having sex by remote control.  

She usually got off after he had passed out, she would straddle him and 
ride on top of him with his semi-erection stuffed up inside her.  
Through the bleary daze of alcohol she slid and ground against him, 
making believe the tumescent flesh squeezed in her yearning pussy was 
the raging cock of an inspired lover.  With a free hand she pulled, 
squeezed and jerked-off her erection for stimulation no one else would 
give her.  When she had reached her peak and spat out her cum over his 
cock and balls it was a lonely victory, not the joy she longed to 
share.  

Their affair was not love; it was just going through the motions.  As 
time progressed it became a mockery of love.  He got into cocaine and 
soon every spare dime he could get his hands on went up his nose.  In 
the end, he tried to get her to sell herself to a truck driver because 
they needed the money.  At that point their relationship was no longer 
just an enigma of contrived emotions, it was a hazard.  She snuck away 
in the middle of the night and never looked back.  

The yawning light of her new found freedom and sobriety healed her many 
wounds.  She got stronger, more self reliant, and she focused herself 
strictly on the non-sexual aspects of her life.  She graduated, 
established a career and settled into a safe, comfortable routine.  

Until now.  A question that she had carried since adolescence burned 
inside her and was nagging for an answer.  Thus - her adventure.  

Dana tried to imagine all the possible scenarios so she would be ready.  
As she drove, she began to wonder about the type of woman she would 
meet.  Would she be just an average lady or one of those masculine 
types?  What kind of role should she play - the submissive or the 
aggressor?  How would she expose her secret to them, up front or as a 
surprise?  There were so many uncertainties, she did not like the idea 
but she would have to play a lot of this by ear and make the 
appropriate moves based on how things evolved.  

She made good time, pulling in to the motel parking lot a half hour 
sooner than she had planned.  She checked into her room and freshened 
up with a quick shower.  Fully expecting a lucky encounter, she 
powdered and perfumed herself for a lover’s enchantment before slipping 
into her finest, shear black pantyhose, a white, short sleeve silk 
blouse and a short, pleated, blue skirt.  Her legs were her best asset 
and she chose a pair of black, high heeled, “f#ck-me” shoes to 
accentuate them.  Looking at herself in the mirror she surmised, ‘If I 
wanted to bring home a man tonight, this would definitely do it.’  She 
just hoped girls liked the same bait.  

Out to her car and on to the freeway.  She knew where she was going.  
Her recon trip and some pointed inquiries had helped her find some gay 
bars on South Broadway, where all the art galleries were.  

The first place on her list was called The Footloose.  Dana parked 
around the corner, primped herself one more time in the rear view 
mirror and bound out of her car in a quick dash for the door.  What 
greeted her inside were mostly the shocked stares of scattered, well-
groomed, slender men.  ‘Could I be in the wrong place?’ she wondered.  
There were two women sitting at the bar.  One was a sleek woman in her 
mid-forties in a black t-shirt and blue jeans.  Sitting next to her was 
a pretty, young blonde in a white t-shirt.  Their interlocked arms made 
it clear to all they were a couple.  Dana took a seat at the bar near 
the pair hoping to garnish their cloistered feminine appeal should any 
other women show up.  She asked the bartender for a cabernet and 
casually familiarized herself with her surroundings.  

It was a tidy, stylish place with a neat bar, clean little wooden 
tables and a dance floor.  She sipped her wine and waited for some one, 
any one, to show her a little benevolence.  It was an act in futility.  
The men did not seem to care if women existed at all.  The two women 
would intermittently throw themselves into a passionate kiss and then 
look about the room, scanning for a reaction.  They were as indifferent 
to Dana as the men.  She waited twenty minutes and in that time the two 
women left, ten more men arrived and Dana just got lonely.  

She hopped off her stool and dashed back to her car.  The errant foray 
had emboldened her.  It was not as hard as she had thought.  Hopefully 
the next place on her list would be more suitable.  It was a place 
further up Broadway called The Compound.  Dana liked it because it had 
a discrete parking lot in the back.  She took a deep breath after 
berthing her car and sauntered to the entrance.  Standing inside the 
doorway, she stopped and gathered her bearings.  She saw about her 
women’s faces, seated at tables, playing pool, and standing in a row 
leaning against the bar.  They all marked her entrance, looking her 
over with more than casual curiosity.  

Dana smiled; this was the right place.  She stepped forward, between 
the tables and the bar, and stood in a wide stance (a good way to grab 
attention if you have nice legs).  She regarded the first woman there, 
a tall, burly blonde woman in a sleeveless t-shirt and her hair slicked 
back in a kind of D.A.  The next woman at the bar was a stocky brunette 
with a mullet and a black leather vest who stepped in front of Dana and 
said, “Hey, doll.  How’s about I buy you a drink and we get cozy?”  

Before Dana could summarize the ramifications of that offer a big pink 
arm whizzed past her head and the burly blonde’s palm smacked against 
the brunette’s shoulder, the blonde thundered, “She’s in my territory, 
asshole!”  The brunette responded with a right cross that missed its 
mark.  Dana was dumbfounded as the two women locked arms and tore at 
each other just inches from her face.  A big, broad man behind the bar 
climbed over it and landed beside the two women, wrenching them apart 
with his long arms.  

Too shocked to move, Dana felt a hand grasp her gently but firmly by 
the elbow and draw her away from the ruckus.  The bartender and some 
friends separated the combatants and they withdrew to opposite ends of 
the bar.  As the women at the bar shuffled positions to absorb the 
newly opened space Dana turned to look at her rescuer.  She beheld an 
attractive woman in her mid forties dressed in black slacks and a pink 
silk blouse with a sweater draped around her shoulders.  She had short, 
curly brown hair neatly bunched around a very wholesome, June-Cleaver-
ish face.  The woman smiled warmly at Dana and said, “You’re new here, 
aren’t you?”  Taking Dana’s shocked silence for an answer she 
continued, “We’d better just avoid the war zone until you learn the 
ropes.”  

Guiding Dana back to her table by the wall they passed another woman 
sitting alone at an adjacent table who laughed and said, “Smooth 
sailing, cream puff.”  This was a lean, young blonde woman in blue 
jeans, tank top and cowboy hat; pretty in a kind of unwashed sort of 
way.  

“Oh, Jan. Behave,” replied Dana’s savior to the wild, giddy cowgirl.  
Pulling Dana down to a chair beside her, the pleasant woman said, “My 
name’s Ruth.  Don’t mind Jan she’s just having fun.”  

“I’m Dana,” she offered.  Dana had planned to use an alias but that 
slipped.  

“Well, hi, Dana, and welcome,” said her new friend.  “Tell us what 
brings you to our dreary little dive.”  As she spoke, Jan slid her 
chair toward their table to include herself into the welcoming 
committee.  
 
“I’m just... kind of... well, I’m looking for some companionship,” said 
Dana.  She was feeling a bit shy and uneasy.  It seemed strange to her 
to go to a place expressly looking for sex.  This kind of conduct was 
so foreign to her, but she did find comfort in the notion that every 
woman in the room was drawn there by virtue of their sexuality and a 
quest for coupling.  Why else would she be there?  She was also feeling 
an attraction for both of these women.  Either one would surely make a 
suitable partner.  “I’m new to this,” she ventured, hoping for 
sympathetic appeal.  

“A virgin!” blurted out Jan with a raucous laugh and entirely too loud.  
“I ain’t touchin’ that.”  

Dana felt the stare of every woman in the bar turn on her.  

“Jan!  That’s uncalled for,” said Ruth crossly as she reached in her 
purse and drew out a ten.  She slid it toward Jan and said, “Why don’t 
you go get us a drink?  What are you having, Dana?”  

“Burgundy is fine.  Thank you,” she said, still trying to overcome her 
embarrassment.  Jan nabbed the bill and headed for the bar.  

Ruth patted her on the arm, “Jan’s a little rough around the edges, she 
drives a cab all day.  She’s actually very sweet before she’s had too 
many.”  

Dana was quickly growing a fondness for this woman.  She was pretty, 
kind, warm, and understanding.  She thought maybe her search would be 
over sooner than she expected.  Surely this woman would make a perfect 
lover for her first time.  “You’ve been very sweet,” Dana ventured.  
“How would you like to take home a virgin,” she continued, half 
jokingly but still half in earnest?  

“Oh, me?” Ruth said as she dropped her glance and began fiddling with 
her hair, obviously flattered.  “I’m... spoken for.  But perhaps I can 
steer you to the right young lady.”  

“Well, I guess Jan is out,” chuckled Dana.  “I’m hoping to find someone 
really special, really good, and really patient.  Somebody who will 
make my experience memorable.”  

“There’s Bobbie,” suggested Ruth.  “That blonde girl on the stool.  
She’s available and very sweet.”  
  
Glancing over casually, Dana considered the pleasant, dainty woman in 
snug, girl-next-door jeans.  “She’s cute.  Does she like adventure?”  
That, of course, would be crucial.  

“Adventure,” said Ruth with a sly sideways glance?  “Mmm,... Neecie!  
Denice.  The girl in the skirt, playing pool.  She’s a dancer.  Ballet.  
She tamed Jan once.  Not a fast mover, she likes to get acquainted 
first.”  

Dana watched the sinewy, superlatively toned strawberry blond in the 
fashionably torn mid-drift and matching skirt.  Definitely a sensuous 
creature, with a body built to perform.  The package she advertised 
certainly promised an affair to remember.  ‘Wow,’ thought Dana.  ‘If I 
had enough time, that’s the kind of woman I wanted to find.’  “I’m only 
in town for the weekend, ... but...”  She did not really intend for her 
quest to extend into multiple trips, but that girl was truly exciting.  

“In a hurry, huh?  Well, someone else does come to mind, she’s a bit 
extreme,” proposed Ruth.  “She is very beautiful, a skillful and 
thorough lover,... uh, so I hear... very accommodating and she likes first-
timers.  She’s... (How shall I say?)... A lady of the evening.  Her name is 
Angel.”   

“A prostitute,” asked Dana in a shocked whisper?  She was alarmed that 
her adventure had strayed into felonious territory.  Could she venture 
that far?  Maybe she could.  Pondering it quickly, maybe it was the 
perfect solution.  This Angel was good, she liked beginners, and as a 
professional she could not shirk her duty no matter what she 
confronted.  “Well, OK.  I could do that.  That would suit me just 
fine, I guess.”  Just then Jan returned with their drinks and plopped 
down in her chair.  “Tell me what I have to do to meet this Angel,” 
continued Dana anxiously.  

“Angel!” exclaimed Jan with a laugh, entirely too loud and again 
drawing attention from the entire room.  “If you can afford Angel why 
are we buying you drinks?”  

“Jan,” whispered Ruth with a frown!  “Try to put yourself in our 
friend’s shoes and stop being such a bore!”  Softening and turning back 
to Dana, “Understand, I’ve never been with her,” Ruth said, primping 
her hair again, self consciously, “but my partner... who should be here 
by now,... she has and she would at least help you find her.”  

“Poindexter,” said Jan almost choking on a big gulp of beer?  “What a 
waste.”  

Ruth ignored Jan like she was used to it.  “Even if she can’t we’ll 
find you a friend.  You’re in glad company,” she said as she hugged 
Dana’s arm in encouragement.  

“I appreciate it and I’m happy to be among you,” replied Dana to both 
her new friends.  

 “Sure,” said Jan with a laugh and pointing her thumb over her shoulder 
toward the bar.  “And you can always try your luck again on Battleship 
Row.”  

“Here she is now,” said Ruth, looking over Dana’s shoulder toward the 
door.  

Dana turned and saw a very prim looking woman in a tweed jacket and 
striped neck tie.  She had black hair pulled back into a tight bun and 
wore big, round, black-framed glasses.  She walked directly toward 
their table as if it were a well established custom.  She kissed Ruth 
and whispered a greeting before sitting down beside her opposite Dana 
and continued whispering to Ruth something about working late and 
traffic.  

“Hey, Poindexter.  Nice tie,” said Jan with a laugh.  

“A pleasure, as always, to see you again, Jan.” said the woman in a 
very dry tone as she coldly regarded her agitator.  

“I’d like you to meet our new friend, Dana,” interjected Ruth.  “Dana, 
this is my partner, Beth.”  Beth rose from her chair, reached over the 
table and firmly shook Dana’s hand.  Ruth patted Beth on the lap and 
said, “Dana’s a NEW girl and is anxious to meet somebody.”  

Before Beth could respond, Jan blurted out, “Ruthie says you could 
exert your bean-counter charm to hook her up with Angel.”  

Ignoring the sarcastic jab, Beth looked at Dana in astonishment and 
said, “Angel?  Well, you certainly don’t piddle around.  That’s a 
pretty fast start for a beginner.  Are you sure you know what you’re in 
for?”  

“Like my mom always said, ‘If you’re going to try something for the 
first time, try the very best’,” replied Dana.  She did not want to 
break protocol but she was on a mission.  

“Can you help her,” asked Ruth sweetly?  

“Oooo... kaaaay,” said Beth slowly as she scanned the room.  Something 
caught her eye by the doorway and she got up, walked over to a stack of 
papers in a rack.  She picked one up, folded it and stuffed it under 
her arm as if she was embarrassed to be seen with it.  At the table she 
opened it up keeping it close to her lap and out of sight.  Dana read 
‘Rocky Mountain Oyster’ on the paper’s masthead and assumed it to be 
some kind of underground ad periodical.  Rifling through the paper Beth 
came across something and pulled out a section and placed it on the 
table.  She took a pen from her jacket and wrote something on an ad at 
the bottom of the page and then slid it toward Dana.  

The ad had a picture of a beautiful woman with a finger pressed to her 
pursed lips and it said ‘Elite Escorts, In-call, Out-call, Discrete’ 
and a telephone number.  Beth had circled the number and wrote “C.J.” 
beside it.  “If you’re sure you can handle this, call that number and 
ask for C.J.” said Beth in a very serious tone.  “But you talk ONLY to 
C.J. and you don’t discuss anything with anybody else, alright?”  

“Alright,” replied Dana.  She did not understand the grave warning but 
she would comply.  Ruth smiled at her as if proud of her partner’s 
prowess.  Jan stared at her in gaping envy.   

For nearly an hour Dana sat and chatted with her new friends.  She 
bought a round.  After a while the fact that they were all drawn to 
this place by virtue of their sexuality was forgotten and they became 
just four ladies sharing a drink and some laughs.  At 9:30 Dana excused 
herself with a promise of dropping in again the next time she was in 
town.  

When Dana got back to her motel room she could not contain her 
anticipation.  She locked the door, tossed aside her purse, grabbed the 
phone and quickly dialed the number in the ad.  The phone rang and rang 
and then suddenly a woman’s voice answered, “Elite Escorts.”  

“Hi, may I speak to C.J., please,” asked Dana?  

“Just a minute,” came the reply.  Next came some funky jazz as she was 
put on hold.  Doubt and fear started to creep over Dana but her 
excitement had built up too much momentum for her to stop.  Minutes 
passed and then a raspy female voice abruptly interjected, “This is 
C.J.”  

“Hello, I was told by a friend that you could help connect me with... 
Angel.  Are you the one I should be talking to,”  Dana asked?  She 
hoped this is how it was done.  

There was a bit of a pause and then C.J. said, “Oh, hi!  It’s so good 
to hear from you.  Hey, I’m about to go on break, can you give me your 
number and I’ll call you right back?”  

Dana complied but was a little confused about C.J.’s response.  She 
hung up and then sat down and waited for C.J.’s call.  It came back 
several minutes later, “This is C.J.  Sorry about that but if they 
found out I was doing a business on the side they’d fire me.  You’re 
looking for Angel, right,” said C.J.?  Dana could hear what sounded 
like traffic in the background and knew C.J. must be out on some pay 
phone.  

“Yes.  Some friends told me she was the best and that’s just what I 
want,” said Dana, trying to sound as moxie as she could.  

“She sure is.  She sure is...  But that kind of talent doesn’t come 
without a price,” said C.J. as she paused to take a drag on her 
cigarette.  “I get a 20 dollar introduction fee up front and then you 
negotiate with Angel for what ever services you want on top of that.  
She doesn’t do guys, she doesn’t do S and M, and she can take care of 
herself so don’t try any rough stuff.  If this is some kind of party 
or your husband likes to watch, the charge is double.  If you try to 
short her or harm one hair on her head, some boys of mine ’ll come down 
on you.  She’s gonna check if you’re a cop and NO PICTURES, alright?  
‘you got a place?”  

“Yeah, I’ve got a room and I’m alone.  Listen, I’m legitimate and 
sincere but I’m kind of pressed for time, do you think I could meet her 
tonight or maybe tomorrow night,” said Dana, C.J.’s warning was very 
frightening however, she was feeling proud of her courage and savvy?  

“Well, tonight’s probably too late, she’s already out,” replied C.J., 
raising her voice to talk over the noise.  “I could leave her a message 
to call you when she checks in.  You got a name, sweetie?”  

“Have her call Dana at this number,” said Dana.  

“Dana...  I sure will.  She’ll be giving you a call tonight,” said C.J.  
“Have a good time, sweetie.”  

“Thank you.  I will,” said Dana and then hung up.  She was very pleased 
with herself.  She thought that this would all work out better than she 
had planned.  

Dana lay down on the bed and waited, listening to the radio, 
visualizing in her mind how all of this would play out.  An hour 
passed.  Her nervousness transformed itself into anxious anticipation.  
Two hours more passed.  Dana slowly began to dose off and then the 
phone rang, startling her back into nervous apprehension.  What should 
she do?  What should she say?  How should she treat this?  “Hello,” she 
spoke into the receiver, hoping it was the right tone of voice.  

“Hello,” said a cool, smooth feminine voice, “May I speak to Dana, 
please?”  

“This is Dana,” she replied, still trying to wrestle her nervousness.  

“This is Angel, a friend asked me to give you a call,” said the voice 
with no trace of presumption.  

“I talked to C.J... She said we might... um... arrange a meeting.  Uh... get 
together and... well, you know, a... a date, I... I guess,” Dana was clueless 
as to how to propose sex, over the phone to a complete stranger.  The 
woman’s patient silence only made it worse.  

“Relax, honey,” Angel’s voice mercifully cooed, “I know why you called.  
Everything is going to be alright.  No one is going to get hurt.  No 
one is going to do anything they don’t want to do.  No one is going to 
get in trouble or be embarrassed.  Angel’s going to take real good care 
of you.  We’re going to make friends and then maybe have some fun, OK?”  

That was just right.  Angel’s words were soothing and reaffirming to 
Dana.  This was not that bad.  Just an understanding companion on the 
other end of a phone line.  “Thank you.  Yeah, let’s have some... fun,” 
Dana responded gratefully.  “C.J. told me to ask you if you have 
tomorrow night free.  Can I see you tomorrow night?”  

“Oh, I’m sorry.  Tomorrow is out for me, I have a dinner date with some 
old friends.” said Angel with a tinge of sympathy in her voice.  

Dana was crestfallen.  After all her hard work and the emotional 
rollercoaster she really wanted this meeting to work.  “This is my 
first time, I wanted it to be special,” she said, unable to hide her 
disappointment.  

“Have you tried the clubs,” Angel suggested?  “There’s usually a lot of 
action at the clubs.”  

“Yeah, I tried a couple of places.  I’m from out of town and I won’t be 
here for long.  I had to work so hard to arrange... I was hoping to find 
somebody who... who could appreciate my... special... condition.”  This was a 
terrible disappointment to Dana.  Getting together with Angel seemed 
like the perfect solution and it was all crumbling apart.  She felt 
like crying.  

“It’s OK, talk to me, honey.  Let’s see if I can help.  Maybe I can set 
you up with some one else.  Maybe we can schedule another time.  
Condition you say,” Angel asked earnestly?  “What condition?  Tell me 
all about it.  Don’t be afraid, I’ve done just about everything.”  

Angel was being very considerate and compassionate, ‘She might as well 
know’ Dana thought.  “I’m what’s called a hermaphrodite.  It’s a 
condition where...” Dana started, as hopelessness was quickly replacing 
apprehension.  

Angel quickly gasped out loud, ”Pseudo or True hermaphrodite!?!”  

“Uh, Pseudo.  But I...,” started Dana again.  

“Hyperplasia or Turner syndrome,” Angel quickly injected!?.  

“Hyperplasia.  Ambiguous genitalia, a masculanized clitoris with 
hypospadias, to be exact.  How did you know so much about 
intersexuality,” asked Dana with newfound wonder about who she was 
talking to and the nature of big city lesbian culture?  

“I’ve been looking for someone like you,” came Angel’s awestruck reply 
after a respectful pause.  “You’re priceless...  Yes, I’ll meet you.  
When ever - where ever you’d like.”   

Dana was bowled over.  With a mere mention of her condition the highly 
sought-after Angel was now at her disposal and eager to meet her.  “If 
you’re sure it’s no trouble.  I don’t want to spoil your plans,” 
offered Dana.  

“No.  It’s alright.  They’ll understand.  We’ll need a time and a place 
to meet.  Where are you staying,” Angel insisted?  

“A motel.  I’m on the west side at Highway 6 and Wadsworth Boulevard,” 
responded Dana, “Do you know where that is?”  

“Sure, exactly.  Listen, there’s a diner right at the corner, I can 
meet you outside in the parking lot,” Angel said, speaking very 
carefully, “It’ll be real easy.  What I usually do is stand in the open 
so you can drive by and see if I’m what you want and verify that I’m 
alone.  I’ll be in a white VW so you’ll know it’s me.  What time would 
you like to meet?”  

“That sounds fine,” said Dana, “How about 8 o’clock?”  

“Perfect.  Now, you stay out of those clubs and don’t go making plans 
with some other girl,” said Angel in a light-hearted encouraging 
manner, “Tomorrow night you belong to Angel.”  

“Great,” exclaimed Dana, giddy with excitement!  “Thank you so much for 
seeing me, and also for being so understanding.  I hope you’ll like 
me.”  Completely forgetting that she had come to town to please 
herself, Dana deferred to her new-found paramour.  

“Don’t worry about me, I’m going to like you just fine,” admonished 
Angel, “Tomorrow night is going to be about you.  Get some sleep and 
I’ll see you at eight.”  

“OK.  Good night and thanks again,” signed off Dana.  

“Good night, honey,” replied Angel.  
 
When Dana hung up the phone she leapt up to the middle of the floor and 
danced with happiness.  This was better than she had planned.  Somebody 
out there, a vivacious, desirable love-goddess wanted her; not in spite 
of what she was but because of what she was.  She playfully got 
undressed and ready for bed; too excited to sleep, she laid awake 
another hour as delightful thoughts about herself whirled in her head.  
She eventually slept the sleep of the truly contented.  


By Sailbad@storiesonline.org

  
Dana1