From impala@erols.com Sat Apr 05 08:41:33 1997
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From: "Impala" <impala@erols.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: REPOST THE RANCH
Date: 5 Apr 1997 13:41:33 GMT
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As I write this, I am in the airport in Atlanta, waiting for my =
connecting flight.  Why I'm writing this down isn't completely clear to =
me, because we don't want or need the publicity.  To protect the Ranch =
and its clients, I have had to change most of the names and the =
locations.  You won't find us listed in the Yellow Pages or even on the =
Internet, but if you get the right referral, we are easy to find.

Its always nice to get away for a few weeks, but you start to miss the =
comforts of home and the excitement of working at a place like the =
Ranch.  I've just spent a week with my family and a week shopping in =
Atlanta.  My parents can't understand why I want to work so far away and =
don't like the fact that I am secretive about what I do.  Dad is a stern =
southern baptist type and is certain that I am gay because of my long =
hair, even though I've brought girlfriends home from time to time.  Mom =
doesn't have a clue as to what is going on in the world, and probably =
doesn't think about it.  My sister knows, more or less, what we do, but =
she is pretty open about these things.

I found the Ranch three years ago by accident.  I was 24 and just out of =
the MBA program at a big southern university.  Before I go into that, I =
need to tell you a little about the Ranch, and what a client sees when =
they arrive.

We have several thousand acres outside of a good sized southwestern =
city.  The grounds are beautiful, and used to be an estate of a very =
rich family that liked the low humidity and moderate year round =
temperatures.  About 10 years ago, the family's fortunes had been split =
up and little was left.  The property came into the hands of the =
proverbial prodigal son, and after a few years of trying to figure out =
what to do with it, he turned it into a private club that caters to a =
special clientele.  He called it the Ranch because that was how it had =
always been referred to in his family.

The property has a large main house that is over 15,000 square feet, and =
a number of other, smaller buildings.  There are guest bungalows =
scattered throughout the grounds, and we can accommodate almost 1200 =
guests with double occupancy, but we rarely have that many except for =
special events.  Most of the year, we have at most 1000 or so at any =
given time, and since the minimum stay is two weeks, it keeps us pretty =
busy.  The property has its own golf courses, tennis courts and 4 =
Olympic size swimming pools, so there are plenty of activities.  And, we =
have our own special facilities to prepare our guests to return to the =
outside world.

As I sit here, ready to go back to the Ranch, and what I consider to be =
my real world, I find myself grateful to be almost finished with the =
masquerade I must maintain when I visit family.  I've been at the Ranch =
for just over 3 years, and when I am away, I have to be mindful of how I =
sit, how I speak and even what restroom I use when out.  You see, at =
home they know me as William, but at the Ranch, I am Chontelle and am =
considered by the rest of the staff to be the best trainer we have.  =
Putting aside any false modesty, I must admit that I am at least one of =
the best at training men to look and act like women.

When I first came to the Ranch, I had no idea about my until then hidden =
talents.  I had just received my MBA and was mulling over job offers =
from IBM, Microsoft and several other Fortune 500 Companies.  I was, and =
am, 6' tall, and back then I weighed about 170 pounds.  My hair was a =
sandy brownish blond, but my best feature, the one that drove girls =
crazy, was my emerald green eyes.  And, dare I say, I was a bit of a =
jerk, especially with my girlfriend.

As a graduation present, my girlfriend, Shelia, had given both of us a 2 =
week vacation to some resort she had heard about from her brother.  She =
didn't tell me much about it, saying that she wanted it to be a =
surprise.  We were set to leave the day after I graduated, and she had =
taken care of all the details.  I will never forget that trip!

We left on a Friday and caught the connecting flight out of Atlanta.  AS =
the plane circled Phoenix, Shelia pointed out to me a lush estate with =
golf courses and obvious irrigation canals meandering through the =
greenery.  That was our destination!

I wasn't all that curious, and was just looking forward to doing =
nothing.  After all, I had worked to put myself through college and =
graduate school, and I was due for a break before getting out into =
corporate America.  Shelia had kept ordering drinks for me on the =
flight, and I was almost ready to just put my head down and semi pass =
out, but I managed to stay awake until the plane touched down.

It was mid-May, and the temperature was delightful.  Shelia and I were =
met by a driver and whisked away in a private limo that belonged to the =
Ranch.  Shelia poured me another drink in the back of the limo, and she =
obviously slipped something into it, because I passed out in the limo, =
not more than 10 minutes after we left the airport.

I woke up with a splitting headache and the driest mouth I had ever had. =
 I was laying under pink satin sheets in what looked liked a small, 2 =
room bungalow.  Everything I could see was done in shades of pink, with =
lots of lace. The bed was an old fashioned 4-poster bed with a pink, =
lacy canopy.  The windows were covered in light pink sheers, with =
gathered curtains of a darker shade of pink.  Even the plush carpet was =
a pale shade in the pink family.

Shelia sat down on the side of the bed, gave me 3 aspirin and a glass of =
water.  As my head started to clear, I look around me, in obvious wonder =
over the way the room was furnished.

"Whoa, did I overdo it!", I said to Shelia, as I tried to take in  the =
idea of a frilly, feminine room.  "Why is everything decorated this =
way?"

"I've got something to show you," said Shelia, and she pulled out a =
polaroid picture and flashed it in front of my face.  It was a picture =
of me, apparently taken while I had been passed out, and was most =
incriminating.  In the picture, I was laying on the pink satin sheets =
and had a lacy bra and panties on.  Next to me, with the picture posed =
so as to look like we had fallen asleep together, was a naked man, =
snuggled into me, with his hand on my crotch and a happy, satisfied look =
on his face.  Looking closely, I could see bright lipstick on my lips =
and hoop earrings on my ears.  I couldn't believe something like was =
happening to me!

"Before you say a word," said Shelia in a gentle but firm tone, "I want =
you to know that copies of this picture and some others that are worse =
are yours if you behave yourself on this vacation and do as you're told. =
 If you decide to leave this place, or if you don't behave yourself, =
these pictures are going to your family and the recruiters at all those =
fancy places you've been interviewing at."

"But why," I had moaned, "why are you doing this to me?"

"You know why.  You tend to be a jerk, but I think you are basically a =
kind person.  You just need to quit taking me and other women for =
granted, and you need to treat us with respect."

I asked her how blackmail would do that.  If I slipped up even just a =
little, was she really sending out the pictures?

"No, but something like that.  This resort is a special club where men =
come to learn to be women.  My brother is a cross dresser and comes here =
whenever he can.  He got me in touch with the place, and because of his =
referral, they agreed to take you on as a client, but only if you =
volunteered.  How to get you to volunteer was up to me, but they did =
have suggestions.  So heres the deal; you spend 2 weeks learning what =
its like to be a woman, and if you do everything you're told and work =
hard at it, I'll give you the pictures.  If you screw up, or complain to =
these people, you can spend the rest of your life explaining these =
pictures to everyone you know.  Its your call, and remember, I'm really =
doing this because I love you.  If you can turn yourself around, we've =
got a chance at a long wonderful life together.  If you don't, I'm =
leaving you and I frankly don't care if your life is ruined by these =
pictures."

It took me about 2 seconds to figure that one out, and I agreed, but I =
secretly vowed to somehow pay her back for this.  "OK," I answered, =
"you've got a deal, but with just one condition."

"Whats that?", she asked.

"I don't really have to sleep with guys or anything, do I?", I asked.

She replied that of course I didn't, but I had to actively take part in =
what was coming.  The deal made, she called someone on the phone, and =
within a few minutes, there was a knock on the door, and a tall, well =
built, dark haired  woman walked in the door.

"Hello, William.  My name is Mistress Donna and I will be your personal =
trainer for the next two weeks.  From now on, you will be addressed as =
Chontelle, and you will do as I say.  If that is acceptable to you, I =
want you to repeat it to me while I tape record you and I want you to =
state that this is what you desire." =20
The tall woman held out a portable tape recorder, and I began speaking.  =
"Yes, this is William, I mean Chontelle.  I want Mistress Donna to train =
me and I want to do what she tells me to do.  This is what I want to do =
for the next two weeks."

Sitting here in the airport 3 years later, I can't help but smile when I =
remember my first meeting with Donna.  She was taller than me by at =
least 3 inches, and had wide shoulders.  She had the thickest mane of =
dark brown, almost black hair that I thought I had ever seen, and =
incredibly intense black eyes.  I guessed her at 6'3", and around 150, =
and I later found out I wasn't far off.  That first day, she was dressed =
in a very short black leather skirt, a white peasant type blouse opened =
to show an impressive cleavage, and high heels.  She had long nails, =
painted a bright red, and cut a most impressive figure as she addressed =
me.  Remembering her, I let my own shoulder length blonde hair out of =
the ponytail I had kept it in for most of the last two weeks, and shook =
it out, knowing that the length and style contrasted sharply with my =
levi's and sweat shirt, but I really don't care right now.

Thinking back to my first encounter with Donna, after I had made my =
little speech into her tape recorder, I remember I  looked at Shelia and =
blushed.  The covers slipped down when I sat up, and I noticed that I =
still had on the bra and panties that I had seen in the picture; I =
quickly pulled the satin sheets back up, but Mistress Donna snatched =
them off the bed.

"Chontelle, stop it!", demanded Mistress Donna.  "You do not need to be =
ashamed of your desires here.  Now get into the bathroom where Mistress =
Shelia and I will prepare your body for training."

Shelia had looked at me and nodded her head as if to make certain I did =
what I was told.  I went into the bathroom, where I was stripped and =
told to lay in the heart shaped pink bathtub that was full of bubbles.  =
Quickly, and expertly, Mistress Donna shaved my legs, my underarms, and =
even shaved and trimmed the area around my genitals so that the hair =
there resembled a heart in shape.  When I got out of the tub, she had me =
put baby lotion all over my body and then told me to sit on a stool in =
front of the mirror.

Before I sat down, Mistress Donna told me to put the bra and panties =
back on, and she handled me a pink robe to put on.  I did as I was told, =
and she began plucking my eyebrows as Shelia nodded and occasionally =
made approving comments.  She then shaved my face closer than it had =
ever been shaved, and turning to Shelia, asked her if she should remove =
all my body hair.  Shelia agreed, and a smelly lotion, which I learned =
later was a hair removal cream like Nair, was applied to my arms and =
chest, and soon I was hairless except for my head, my eyebrows and my =
private area.

"What look shall we give her, Mistress Shelia?" asked Mistress Donna.  =
"Sexy and sultry, perhaps?"

"Oh for sure.  Sexy and as sultry as possible," was Shelia's answer.

"Watch carefully, Chontelle, and listen to me.  You will have to learn =
to do this yourself, as I understand from Mistress Shelia that learning =
to apply makeup is part of your desire," said Mistress Donna as she =
started to work.

"First, we will pull your hair back completely out of your face.  Until =
you do something more permanent or lasting with your facial hair, you =
will have to use this concealer.  Watch how I dab it on, above your lip =
and on your chin.  As I gently pat it in, see how no trace of any beard =
remains?"

I tried not to look, but with my hair pulled back and my now arched eye =
brows, my face had taken on a decidedly different look.

"Now, I will show how to put on makeup.  Your facial hair is so sparse =
and your skin so nice, that we can use regular makeup.  This =
product--look at it!---is a revlon extra coverage foundation that you =
can buy in any drug store when you leave.  Honey beige is the right =
color for your skin."  Mistress Donna chatted amiably as she covered my =
face with foundation, giving my skin an almost flawless look.  As she =
worked on me, she would frequently rub one of her beautiful breasts up =
against me, and this seemed to really arouse me, or maybe it was what =
she was doing to me.

"Next, we will work on your eyes.  Let me get a few more hairs out of =
those brows, and then darken them some for you.  See the nice arch we =
have created?  Now sit still.  For your beautiful emerald eyes, I think =
a smoky sage color on the lids, with a paler cream color on the brow =
bone, will bring out the color.  Now, hold real still while I put black =
eyeliner at the base of your upper and lower lashes, there.  This little =
device curls your lashes before I put mascara on them.  First one coat =
of black mascara, upper and lower, and I will move on to your cheeks."

Despite the sense of shock and disbelief I felt, I was fascinated by =
what I saw in the mirror and was definitely getting aroused under my =
satiny robe.  Mistress Donna then went on to brush a coral colored =
powder on my cheeks, with a slightly darker color below, and all of a =
sudden, I noticed what high cheekbones I had!  When she finished that, =
she had brushed another coat of mascara on my lashes, and a rose colored =
lipstick on my lips.

"Tell me, Mistress Shelia, what do you think of our girl Chontelle?", =
she asked.

"She is beautiful, Mistress Donna, absolutely stunning.  Shall we have =
her wear a wig or what with that short hair?", asked Mistress Shelia.

"You are Paul's sister, aren't you, Mistress Shelia?  We would usually =
either fix Chontelle's hair the best we can or put her in a wig.  But =
for Paul's sister, we will give your girlfriend a special treat and do a =
hair weave for her."  Mistress Donna's comment about a hair weave scared =
me a little, but I was pretty much beyond disbelief by then.=20

Thinking back now to how scared I was then causes me to smile again, =
sitting here in the Atlanta airport.  If only I had known then what I =
know now, there would have been no fear at all, only anticipation.  But =
I didn't know, and it was new, and I was scared out of my wits.  I =
remember thinking I was a dead duck if I didn't cooperate and Shelia =
really sent those pictures out.  Maybe it had been a bluff, but it had =
worked.  God, how I look forward to getting back to the Ranch and =
getting out of these clothes and into something more comfortable!=20

Anyway, back to my story.  Mistress Donna had made up my face pretty =
heavily, and I did look very sultry.  After she was done, she had me lay =
back on the bed while she used some sort of surgical adhesive to attach =
large, very natural looking breasts to my chest.  She warned me about =
trying to pull them off without solvent, and then told me to put the bra =
back on.  What a feeling that had been!  Suddenly, I had heavy, and very =
natural looking breasts pulling at my chest, and I couldn't even see the =
line between where my skin stopped and the breasts began!  I was =
trembling, and I remember I started to protest, but Shelia held up the =
polaroid behind Mistress Donna's back, where only I could see it, and =
shook her head as to warn me.  I heeded her warning.

"My, my Chontelle.  You are starting to really look good.  You need to =
lose a little weight, but we can help you with that and give you a diet =
and exercise program to follow when you leave.  What do you think, =
Mistress Shelia?  A skirt and blouse, a dress, or slacks for our girl?"

Shelia answered, "with those legs, and so nicely shaved now, definitely =
a skirt and blouse, and some nice sexy high heels." =20

Mistress Donna told me to sit quietly on the bed while she and Shelia =
decided on my outfit.  I had lost track of time, and couldn't see a =
clock in the room; I couldn't believe that just a few hours ago I had =
been sitting on a plane in my normal clothes, and now this!  But if I =
complained, my life might as be over, with those pictures.

Mistress Donna selected a short black skirt for me and a teal blouse =
that would show off my new cleavage.  She had me put on a girdle that =
cinched my waist so tightly I could hardly breath.  She helped me into =
sheer hose that fastened to some straps on the bottom of the girdle, and =
then made me put on the skirt, blouse and 3" black high heels.  "There," =
she announced, "Chontelle is ready to go outside, except for her hair.  =
We must do something so that no one else is offended by that butchy hair =
cut.  What do you think, Mistress Shelia, perhaps a scarf?"

The next thing I knew, I had a floral scarf around my head, and was =
being led out the door, trembling with fear and tottering on the high =
heels.  The two girls each took one of my arms and Mistress Donna led us =
about a five minute walk to the main house, which for all intents and =
purposes looked like a big sorority house on a college campus.

I had been so embarrassed that my eyes never left the ground during the =
5 minute walk, and I felt the same way entering the big house.  Mistress =
Donna steered me down a short hallway to the left, and into what was =
obviously a very well equipped beauty salon, with at least 50 chairs.  =
Most of the chairs were full, with women working on other women's hair, =
although some of these women were obviously men dressed as women.  She =
sat me in the last chair on the right, where I learned that Vanessa =
would be taking care of me.

"Good afternoon, Mistress Donna," said Vanessa.  She was a rather plain =
looking girl with a big nose, about 5'8", and at least 20 pounds =
overweight.  Like a lot of women at salons, she had way too much makeup =
on and flaming red hair, which was her best feature, and dragon lady =
nails that were at least an inch past the end of her fingers.

"Hello, Vanessa," said Mistress Donna.  "This is Chontelle, a very =
special member.  She has decided to have a full hair weave while her own =
grows out.  I think if we color her natural hair blonde that you can =
match it with what we have in stock, don't you?"

"Certainly, Mistress Donna," was the reply.  "In 2 hours, Chontelle will =
have the most beautiful, thickest blonde hair you have ever seen.  I =
think with her facial structure that this style would be best."  Vanessa =
pointed to a picture in a book that showed a model with perky blonde =
hair, with the length just below her chin and wispy bangs.  I couldn't =
believe they could do that to me, but I didn't dare complain.

Vanessa colored my hair, comparing it to some long strands of natural =
hair on her workstation, and then dried it.  She started in with strands =
of hair, somehow weaving them into my natural hair, and sometimes using =
some sort of clips.  I've always had naturally thick hair, but it was =
just over my ears in length, before Vanessa started.  While she was =
working on my hair, another woman started in on my nails, doing =
something she called "wrapping", and painted them a fiery red, along =
with my toenails.

Two hours later, I got out of the chair with knees shaking and my heart =
trembling.  As I looked in the mirror, I couldn't believe my eyes; in =
front of me was the image of a very tall, and somewhat over weight young =
woman, with blonde hair, long sexy legs, pouty painted lips and long, =
red nails.  And before I left the salon, there was one last surprise.

"Vanessa," said Mistress Donna, "Chontelle wishes to have her ears =
pierced and these gold hoops place in them.  Would you see to that, =
please."

For the first time, I rose in protest.  Before I could say anything, =
Shelia edged the polaroid out of her purse, and resigned to my fate, I =
sat back down.  After all, the holes would grow over and none of this =
was permanent.  Like a good boy, I sat back down, and Vanessa quickly =
and expertly pierced my ears, and inserted the gold hoops.

"Stand up,Chontelle, and let Mistress Shelia see you in your full =
feminine beauty," said Mistress Donna, "and what do you think, Mistress =
Shelia/"

"Oh my god," Shelia had answered, "he, I mean she, is gorgeous.  Oh =
baby, you do look hot."  Shelia was giggling as she said this.  "Do you =
think we should fix him up with a date, Mistress Donna/"

"Chontelle is a long way from being ready to date," said Mistress Donna. =
 "First, she must learn how to walk, how to eat, how to handle herself =
in all circumstances, and many other things.  But that is what we do =
here at the Ranch, and she will be ready for whatever she or you want by =
the time she is ready to leave."

I was in such a frieghtened and overwhelmed state of mind that I =
couldn't say much.  It was somehow very exciting to see myself like that =
and to feel that way, and as ashamed as I was, I was also very aroused.

We left the salon part of the house and walked next door to what looked =
like an open air cafe.  As we walked, Mistress Donna kept telling me to =
take smaller steps and to be more graceful.  When we got to the cafe, =
she made me get up and sit back down at least a dozen times, until I =
could properly smooth out the back of my skirt as I sat in the chair.

I guessed it was about 3:00 in the afternoon now, and I hadn't eaten =
anything since breakfast.  Mistress Donna order Perrier for herself, but =
Shelia ordered white wine for the two of us.  While we were waiting for =
the wine, Shelia, without conscious thought, pulled out her compact, =
opened it up and used the mirror to put on more lipstick.  Mistress =
Donna told me to do as Mistress Shelia had done, and feeling very =
embarassed, I reached into the purse she had given me, took out a =
compact and lipstick, and got lessons on reapplying my lipstick in =
public.  I actually kind of liked the way it looked and felt on me, =
which was a big shock!

The drinks came.  Shelia dug into her purse and brough out a pack of =
cigarettes and her lighter.  I don't remember the brand, but it was one =
of those long brands with a white filter, and I remember they were =
menthols.  Shelia knew that I didn't like her smoking, since I didn't, =
but I sure as hell wasn't about to say or do anything to cross her right =
then!

Shelia played with her lighter for a few seconds, and then looked at me =
with this sickly sweet smile that I was coming to dread.  It meant =
something else was coming!  "Mistress Donna," said Shelia, "Chontelle =
has always wanted to learn to smoke like a woman, but has been too shy.  =
Don't you think this is a perfect time to teach her?"

"Certainly, if that is her wish and yours," answered Mistress Donna.  =
Then she addressed me.  "Chontelle, watch me and do as I say and do.  =
The most woman like way to light a cigarette is to use your long =
fingernails to remove one from the pack, like this.  Now hold it between =
your two fingers, like this, and hold it in your lips with your left =
hand, while you light it with the lighte in the other hand.  Take a deep =
drag, there thats good."

I was starting to realize that I could get through this by play acting, =
and I did as I was told.  I took my first deep drag on a cigarette, and =
immediately coughed.

"Chontelle, you will cover your face if you cough," said Mistress Donna. =
 "Now take another puff, and try not to embarass us.  When you exhale, =
purse your lips and try to exhale a long plume of smoke."

Again, I did as I was told and didn't choke this time.  When I ooked at =
the cigarette held daintily between my fingers, I was fascinated by the =
lipstick smudges-my lipstick!-on the white filter.  I really thought =
that looked great!  I puffed again, and again, and tried to copy =
Mistress Shelia and Mistress Donna.  After my third or fourth cigarette =
with our wine, I was starting to get lightheaded, but I was definitely =
getting the hang of it!

The waitress came back to take food orders.  Mistress Donna announced =
that she would be ordering for me, and ordered only a small salad, a =
glass of water and another glass of white wine.  She also instructed the =
waitress to bring me a pack of whatever it was that Shelia was smoking.  =
Shelia smiled and handed me a gold woman's lighter that she said was a =
present.

Our food had come, and Mistress Donna instructed me on how to eat like a =
woman.  "Take small bites, and chew them well.  Don't gulp your drink, =
take small sips.  Eat slowly, and be demure.  Lay your fork down between =
bites.  There, much better."

After our late lunch, we had coffee.  Without being told, I redid my =
lipstick while we were waiting for the coffee.  When the coffee came, =
with no prompting at all, I took my cigarettes and lighter out of my =
purse and lit one.  This all seemed to suddenly be coming naturally for =
me!  And, I had started to forget about my fears as no one seemed to be =
paying any attention to me.

"You have done well this afternoon, but there is still a geat deal of =
training to do," said Mistress Donna.  "We have many guests who will =
arrive tonight, and I will not be able to spend as much time with you.  =
You are expected to go to the big house at about 7:00, so that you can =
welcome our new group of guests.  Tomorrow, and for the next two weeks, =
you will join them in classes, demonstrations and practical workshops.  =
If Mistress Shelia has any trouble with you, I will be there.  And I =
will be checking on you and helping you several times a day, so don't =
dissappoint me."  She went on, smiling an absolutely beautiful smile, =
"you will attend classes on makeup, hair styling, how to select clothes, =
diet, how to act in public, and even on how to please a man, if that is =
what you wish.  I promise you an exciting and eventful two weeks."

Those memories are now sweet ones, but they were terrifying events at =
the time.  I don't have the time now to tell you more, because my plane =
is here.  But, perhaps I can do more when I get to the Ranch, or even on =
the plane.  The two weeks I spent there 3 years ago were, shall we say, =
like nothing I had done before, and like nothing most people have ever =
done.  And what happened after my two weeks were up is even more =
interesting, but that must wait as my plane is boarding now and I can't =
wait to get home, to get dressed again, and to start training some new =
members.


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THE RANCH, PART 2

I'm home!  Thank goodness, its so nice to be back!  Its about 9:00 =
tonight, and I've been back since 4:00 this afternoon.  I have some =
quiet time, so I thought I'd work some more on putting my memories down =
on paper.

In the first part of my history, I told you how I was tricked by a =
girlfriend into going to the Ranch, and how I later ended up on the =
staff there.  The girlfriend got me there on the pretext of a vacation, =
slipped something into my drink before we got there, and then staged =
some pictures of me in a compromising situation with another man.  She =
threatened to send the pictures out if I didn't voluntarily go along =
with the program.  The "program" was that the Ranch was a place that =
taught men how to impersonate women and I had to either go through with =
the training or have my life ruined with those horrible pictures.  On my =
first afternoon there, one of the staff members, Mistress Donna, had =
made me shave my legs, underarms and everything; she had made me up, had =
my hair and nails done, and then dressed me in feminine clothes. =20
I had been typing this at the airport in Atlanta, waiting for my plane =
to bring me home to the Ranch, and got interrupted just when I was about =
to tell you about my first evening as a woman.  Now, I'm home again at =
the Ranch, and what a relief it is!

The first thing I did when I got back to the Ranch today, after checking =
in with my office, was to draw myself a hot, luxurious bubble bath.  How =
nice it was to lower my body into the perfumed water!  After soaking for =
a good 20 minutes, I lovingly shaved my legs and underarms, got out of =
the tub and patted myself dry.  My face showed no sign of facial hair, =
the result of electrolysis which was a fringe benefit of working here.  =
I had a 5:00 appointment at the salon to get my hair and nails done =
again, so I had to hurry.  Just a minimal amount of makeup, and then I =
put on the clothes I love so well; for tonight, just a simple sheath =
dress.  Today had been the end of the last two week cycle, and tomorrow =
started a new one, but tonight there would be virtually no guests at the =
Ranch.  I slipped into a pair of modest 2" heels, and went to the salon.

Vanessa was still my favorite hair dresser, and before long, she had my =
hair looking gorgeous again and my nails painted.  My nails had been cut =
a little shorter than I like, but longer than my family liked, for the =
visit, so Vanessa had to use acrylics to get them back to their normal =
length; it would only take a few weeeks for them to grow out, but I =
hated them short!

I went to the staff restaurant to grab a quick bite to eat and to catch =
up on the news.  Donna and Tamara were at a table by themselves, so I =
joined them.  Tamara had a marveously funny story about a new client =
that had just cycled through; he was a football player from one of those =
athletic factories in the east, and weighed over 250 pounds.  We get our =
share of them, and you never know what to expect.  Anyway, at first, he =
kept telling Tamara that his "vacation" with us was his girlfriend's =
idea, but after the first week, he admitted that it was really his =
boyfriend's idea.  On his last day, he couldn't decide whether to tell =
the NFL he wasn't interested so he could dress full time.  Tamara =
assured him that we had affiliates in most of the big cities, and we =
could accomodate him.  We all got a good natured laugh when Tamara told =
us how much he had ended up loving the Ranch; that happens pretty =
frequently, but we don't get that many professional calibre atheletes.  =
I could tell you who he is, but that would violate our policy and might =
hurt his career.

Before I go back to my memories of my first stay at the Ranch, I need to =
mention our affiliate system.  This is something I am especially proud =
of, since it was originally my idea and project.

When I first came to the Ranch, it was an autonomous operation.  =
Everyone seemed to know there was another, smaller club in Hong Kong =
that was similar, and everyone suspected there were other smaller =
operations in other places, but there was certainly no network like =
there is now.

The Ranch had started out as a small operation that grew over the years. =
 A typical client would come for a couple of weeks and then leave.  Some =
would return every year for, shall we say, continuing education, and =
some would come 3 or 4 times a year.  But it was kind of a hit and miss =
situation, and not a very profitable operation.

Two years ago, one of the clients commented to me how nice it would be =
if there were clubs like this in every large metropolitan area.  It got =
me thinking.  I approached the owner with my idea, and we tried our =
first satellite operation that very same month, with a small estate =
owned by a client, and located just outside of New York.  The approach =
we took was, in al modesty, brilliant.

A client would come to the Ranch for two weeks of training.  We would =
teach him everything we could in those two weeks; how to dress, how to =
apply makeup, how to act, how to do his nails, how to take care of a =
wig, how to style his hair so he could wear it as a male or female, and =
all the necessary things.  For those clients who wanted us to, we would =
help them with a new wardrobe.  But many of our clients were in =
situations that prohibited them from taking everything home on the plane =
with them, so we would often end up selling things in our own Ranch =
thrift shop.

While society has softened considerably in its attitude toward cross =
dressers, there is still a great deal of prejudice.  A lot of of our =
clients come here with their wives, which we encourage, and quite a few =
have tolerant spouses.  But a suprising number, and still a majority, =
have to make up some outlandish lie to get away here for two weeks.  =
Since we are in the middle of golf country, it is usually a story about =
going to an intensive golf resort, and we do offer pro lessons.  But how =
many times can a man get away with that?

My solution was the affiliate system.  On a trial basis, we sold =
memberships that would allow a client to spend two weeks with us, become =
members, and have the right to use any of our affiliate locations.  The =
demand for this service was high, and before long we had thousands of =
members and locations in almost every large metropolitan area in the =
states.

Heres how my idea works.  Lets say Bob is a corporate executive with a =
large chemical company.  His work frequently takes him from his home =
near Chicago to New York, Los Angeles, Atlanta and Philadelphia.  Bob =
loves to cross dress, but his family doesn't know.  He takes silly risks =
when he travels, and its fun, but he can't really take a wardrobe with =
him on the plane.  He's frustrated and wants to make some changes.  By =
the way, Bob is a member now, and Bob is his real name, but I won't tell =
you his last name or the company he works for.

Bob manages to find out about us, gets a referral and visits for two =
weeks, telling his family it is a golf resort.  He's got plenty of money =
and spends a couple of thousand dollars, over and above the cost of the =
two weeks, on clothes, shoes and accessories.  Bob is offered a =
membership at the end of his two weeks, and he gladly pays the seemingly =
exorbitant annual fees.  He is happy, and we have made a lot of money =
giving him what he wants.

The next time Bob goes to New York, he calls our 800 number.  We like a =
couple of days notice, but, for a fee, can accomplish almost anything.  =
Bob arrives in New York.  Depending on how he wants things handled, we =
can make delivery to his hotel room, but more often, he checks into the =
room and then takes a cab to our affiliate location.  When he gets =
there, we have shipped his entire wardrobe and anything else he needs.  =
We have experienced staff on hand to help him with makeup, shopping or =
whatever else he needs.  We usually have enough members at a big city =
that we can arrange a group outing to the theatre or restaurants or =
other safe places we find.  Bob loves it, because he doesn't have to try =
to hide his clothes and things from his family, and because it is =
absolutely safe.  By day, he attends to corporate business, and by =
night, he has a glorious feminine experience.  By the way, we have 3 =
locations in New York now, and are looking for another one because of =
the demand.

Oh, enough about our affiliates.  I'm sitting here at the Ranch in my =
apartment, dressed and made up properly for the first time in two weeks. =
 I love the look and feel of my truely feminine home, and it feels so =
good to be back into my stylish women's clothes, with my hair and nails =
done.  Right now, I'm sitting at my desk, legs crossed at the ankles, =
with panties, bra, nightgown and robe on.  I've got a glass of chilled =
white wine, and I just lit a cigarette which is sitting in the very =
feminine crystal ashtray on my right.  I pick it up between my two =
fingers with long painted nails, take a deep drag and exhale lazily as I =
admire the lipstick marks I leave on the white filter.  But it wasn't =
always this comfortable, and I must get back to my memoirs about my =
first visit to the Ranch.

My first night at the Ranch was a whirlwind of confusion.  Shelia and I =
had toured the grounds, and I remember my feet were killing me because I =
wasn't used to high heels.  I also remember I was starving, because they =
didn't give me enough food to feed a bird.  But surprisingly, after a =
couple of hours, and after seeing that everyone on the property (except =
for some male staff members) was dressed like me, I started to relax.  =
If I could just get through these two weeks, and get thoee pictures =
back, this would all be behind me!

After a very light dinner, Shelia had reminded me to freshen my powder =
and lipstick and showed me how.  We had an after dinner drink, and as =
Shelia reached into her purse for a cigarette, she asked me to join her =
and I did.  The cigarette didn't taste as funny as before, and I didn't =
choke or cough at all.  Shelia was sitting right beside me, and after we =
finished our cigarettes, leaned over and gave me the first kiss since we =
had arrived here, and it was a long and delicious kiss, the taste of our =
freshly applied lipsticks mingling in an altogether wonderful sensuous =
feeling.  She took my hand and told me how proud she was of me, and then =
suggested we go to the nightclub.

The nightclub was in a building near the big house.  It was, to all =
appearances, a typical big city nightclub with recorded music blaring in =
a smoky room.  Shelia and I grabbed a table near the dance floor, =
ordered drinks and just watched for a while.  Then Mistress Donna showed =
up.

"Good evening ladies," said Mistress Donna.  "Are you girls enjoying the =
Ranch?"

Shelia smiled, and said she was having a wonderful time.  She kicked me =
under the table, and I said I was enjoying myself too.

"Thats wonderful, Chontelle," said Mistress Donna.  "Since you are here, =
and having a good time, we can continue with your lessons."  She looked =
across the room, snapped her finger, and one of the few people dressed =
as males came over to the table.

"Yes, Mistress Donna," he said.  "What is your pleasure?"

He was about the same height as Mistress Donna in her heels, which made =
him taller than me, even in my heels.  He had sandy brown hair and =
appeared very fit and strong in his tuxedo.

"Miss Chontelle here would like to dance," said Mistress Donna.  "But =
she doesn't know how and needs some lessons.  Please help her."

Before I knew it, I was on the dance floor with this large, attractive =
man, and I was scared witless again.  He took me in his arms for a slow =
dance and forcefully led me through the dance as he told me what to do.  =
It took a little practice, but it was actually easier than leading, and =
before long, I had the hang of it.  It was strangely exhilirating to be =
the one being led rather than being the one leading.  Except for the =
feeling of being close to a girl, I had never really enjoyed dancing, =
but this was different.  The feel of my skirt flaring out on fast =
numbers, and my long hair dancing with the music somehow made it much =
more emjoyable than when I had danced as a man.

I must have danced with him for at least a dozen songs.  He led me back =
to the table, where Shelia reminded me to freshen my lipstick and powder =
my nose.  I did, and then took a cigarette from my purse.  Before I =
could light it, the dancer had a lighter out and lit if for me, as I =
steadied his hand.  This was another altogether new experience that was =
sensationally enjoyable!

Shelia and I danced a few times, as girls do, and not as a girl and a =
guy.  I had a little too much to drink and with the little bit of food I =
had eaten that day, was pretty giddy.  She took me back to our bungalow, =
and showed me how to remove my makeup with cleanser, and how to use =
toner.  When she finished, I started looking for something to sleep in, =
but all my suitcases were gone!

"Shelia, what am I supposed to wear to sleep in?"  I couldn't very well =
sleep nude with those heavy breasts still attached to my chest.  "Where =
are all my clothes?"

"Honey," she answered, "you are doing so good.  You can get your things =
back when we leave, but you won't need them until then.  You need to =
keep a bra on, and panties, and you can sleep in this nightgown.  =
Tomorrow, we'll go to their shops and get you some more things."

"Shelia, this has gone far enough," I said.  "I've been good, I =
undertand now what you meant about me not respecting women.  Can't I =
please get out of here".

"Chontelle," she replied, "I paid for two weeks, and you're getting two =
weeks no matter what.  Remember, any complaints, any defiance, and those =
fake polaroids of you with that guy are going to your family and every =
prospective employer you ever go to.  Besides, I think you are enjoying =
this, just a little."

I was starting to enjoy the experience, but I wasn't about to let her =
know.  So I put on my bra, and slid the night gown over my head.  Before =
I knew it, I was fsst alseep, with the strangest dreams running through =
my head.

The next morning we were awakened by a knock on the door at about 7:00.  =
It was Mistress Donna.  "Well, good morning Chontelle," she said.  "I'm =
here to help you get ready for your first full day here at the Ranch.  =
I'll have some coffee while you bathe, and then I'll help you with your =
makeup and get you started on today's schedule."  And with that, she let =
herself in and I went in to bathe.

When I got out of the tub, dressed only in a bra, panties and a robe, I =
sat down with Shelia and Mistress Donna to have a cup of coffee and a =
cigarette.  The cigarette tasted really good, and went great with the =
coffee, and I knew I had mastered this new habit.  Mistress Donna then =
had me sit at the makeup mirror, and told me to start with my own =
makeup.  I did ok with the foundation, but had trouble with the eye =
makeup, but fear made me a quick student.  She pulled my now long hair =
back into a pony tail and handed me a leotard and a pair of tights, =
since I was going to exercise class.

"Chontelle," said Mistress Donna, "our exercises have been developed =
especially for girls like you.  They will, of course, help you lose =
weight.  More importantly, they will reshape your body quite a bit if =
you religiously follow the routine.  If you ever want to pass as a girl =
in the real world, you need to have slimmer arms and legs, narrower =
shoulders and a little more rounded tush.  Big biceps just won't get it. =
 So get dressed, and I'll take you to our exercise class while Mistress =
Shelia gets herself ready for the day."

Mistress Donna then took me to what looked like a large dance studio.  =
There must have been 100 "girls", all dressed like me, in our class, and =
Mistress Donna told me that the class was repeated every hour to =
accomodate all of the clients who wished to take it.  Class started =
slowly, with stretchig, and then ballet type moves, but I quickly =
noticed that my legs and buns were burning, while my arms were hardly =
tired at all.  It was kind of amusing to watch the mascara and makeup =
running down everyone's face, but I knew I was no different.

After class, my tired body was bathed again, and fresh makeup appled.  =
This time, I did much better on my own, but Mistress Donna did help with =
my hair.  She selected a dress for today and told me that I had to do =
some shopping to get some new things.  I asked her what was in store for =
me that day, and she told me the schedule.

"First,"  she said, "you get a light breakfast of fruit, juice and =
coffee.  We've got to really hold your calories down to get rid of some =
of that weight.  Then, makeup class and demonstration from 10 to 11, and =
a class on dressing to accentuate your feminine appearance from 11 to =
12.  12 to 2 is free time, but you need to get some shopping done and =
I'll help you.  From 2 to 3, we have voice lessons, and from 3 to 4, =
comportment--you need to learn to walk, sit and carry yourself like a =
regular woman.  Every day at 4, we have classes on hair styles and how =
to manage your own, or you can attend a second class on voice, which I =
recommend for you."  I couldn't believe what a full schedule it was!

The first week passed in a blur.  Every day, Mistress Donna was a the =
door at 7:00 AM, and she had me going until 5:00 or 6:00 at night.  Then =
it was back to the bungalow for a rest, bath, new makeup and out to the =
nightclubs and restaurants until midnight or later.  I was so tired and =
so busy, I kind of got into a routine and did as I was told.  Shelia had =
taken me shopping at the Ranch's own shops and I had what seemed like an =
incredible variety of new outfits, high heels, flats, jewelry and =
everything else.  I had quickly slipped into what seemed like a new =
personna, and no longer thought anything of fixing my lipstick after =
eating, or going to the bathroom sitting down.  And it seemed the most =
natural thing in the world to sit with my legs crossed at the thighs, my =
right elbow cupped in my left hand while I enjoyed an after dinner =
smoke.

By Wednesday of the second week, I knew I only had two more days of this =
charade, and then I could get those damned pictures back and get on with =
my life.  But I found myself getting wistful about the Ranch.  This had =
been fun, and I had learned an awful lot.  It seemed like a shame to let =
all this new ability go to waste, and what about all my new clothes?  I =
did kind of enjoy this dressing up, and women's clothes were so much =
prettier and more comfortable than what I had been used to.

My weight was down to almost 150, and what a difference that made in =
clothes!  And, I can remember thinking, I really need to leave some sort =
of earrings in for at least a couple more weeks so the holes in my ears =
don't heal over.  I actually found myself trying to figure out how to =
prolong my stay!  But, I wasn't ready to admit that to myself or anyone =
else, not just yet.

Thursday morning I woke up before Mistress Donna arrived to get me going =
to my exercise class.  I had graduated to waterproof makeup, which I =
wore for exercise class and when we went to the pool during our brief =
time off during the day.  Sitting there on the stool, I realized that =
putting on makeup was now as natural as brushing my teeth, and all of a =
sudden I realized that this might be the last day I ever did this.  I =
took special care with my makeup, especially my eyes, which I could by =
then do as expertly as Mistress Donna could.  After putting on lipstick, =
I got into my tights and leotard, threw on an oversized T-shirt, and met =
Mistress Donna outside the door, before she could wake Shelia with a =
knock on the door.  When she came, I asked her if we could get some =
coffee and chat for a bit before class.

We went to the outdoor part of the restaurant and ordered coffee.  When =
it came, I reached over and took a cigarette from Mistress Donna's pack, =
and unconsciously pulled it out with my long, red fingernails.  I held =
it at the end of my index and middle fingers, held it to my lips and lit =
it with Donna's lighter.  I exhaled a long plume of gray blue smoke, and =
Donna laughed.  "Chontelle," she said, "you have no idea how perfect you =
look when you do that.  If you smoke like that when you are dressed as a =
man, in the outside world, you're going to quickly give yourself away."

"Mistress Donna," I said, "I need to talk about that.  When I came here, =
it wasn't exactly of my own free will, but now it seems so right.  I =
love the look and feel of these clothes.  I can't imagine wearing wool =
suits and starched shirts.  Any my face just looks so much better with =
foundation, and eye makeup and lipstick.  I just don't know what I'm =
going to do out there."

Donna smiled.  "Chontelle, that happens to a lot of people.  When I =
first came here, at least I thought it was what I wanted.  I have been =
dressing since I was a child, and as soon as I could save the money to =
come here, I did.  After my first two weeks, I went home, but I started =
dressing more and more.  I came back 6 months after my first visit, and =
when I went home that time, I made up my mind that I wanted to do this =
all the time.  It took me another two years to save enough money for =
surgery...."

I interupted her.  "You mean you're a guy?", I asked incredulously.

"No," she answered.  "I was a guy, but no longer.  And I can pass, as =
you know, under any circumstances.  But I came back here to help others, =
and frankly, because I can make about 10 times what I could make as a =
secretary or something out there."

I had a million questions, and she didn't have answers for all of them.  =
But I knew I had some thinking to do.

Sitting here in my beautiful room, three years later, knowing what I =
know now, and knowing who I am now, it is almost amusing to think back =
on my confusion at the end of that first two weeks as a woman.  Back =
then, I wondered if something was wrong with me; now I know that it just =
is.  As I get up and pour myself another glass of wine, I can't help but =
smile at my image in the mirror on the wall; tall, thin, gorgeous long =
blonde hair and painted nails.  My robe is open and my breasts, so firm =
and so proud, are pushing against the thin fabric of my nightgown as my =
hips roll from side to side when I walk in that seductive manner we =
teach here.  I sit back down, brush the hair out of my face with my =
hand, and feel my favorite gold hoop earring,  I light another =
cigarette, and for the umpteenth time, thrill at the sight of my =
lipstick on the white filter.  But, back to my memories.

My last day at the Ranch was like most other days, except for the =
wistful feelings I had.  I didn't want the day to end, and stayed up way =
too late at the nightclub.  I wanted to dance every dance, and I wasn't =
the only one as tomorrow, Friday, was checkout day for the outgoing =
clients and check in day for the next group.  But, finally, it came to =
an end, and I went back to the bungalow with Shelia, changed into my =
nightgown and fell fast asleep.

Friday morning came much too soon.  My body clock woke me up well before =
7:00 AM, and on automatic pilot, I started putting on my makeup.  Shelia =
came in the bathroom and started laughing, saying, "what are you doing?  =
Today you get to go back to being William, unless you don't want to."

"Oh my god, I forgot.  You're right.  How do I get this hair weave stuff =
out and these breasts off?," I responded.

"Mistress Donna will be here at 7:00," answered Shelia, "and she knows =
what she's doing."

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Shelia let Mistress Donna =
in the room.   She looked as gorgeous and as imposing as ever.  And in =
her hand, she had a suitcase I had not seen in 2 weeks--my suitcase.

"Good morning, Chontelle and Shelia," she said.  "You have to get ready =
to return home now.  Some new lucky person will be in this bungalow =
tonight."

"I'm ready, more than ready," I said.  "If you can get these breasts off =
me and this extra hair out of mine, I'll change and be ready in a =
second."

"Thats why I'm here, Chontelle," she answered.  "Take this solvent and =
moisten a cotton pad with it.  Work it around the breast forms until you =
get the edges lose and just keeping working down.  I'll help you with =
your hair while you're working on that."

I did as she told me and in about 5 minutes had them off.  It really =
felt funny not to have them on, but I was certain I would get used to =
it.  "What do I do with them?", I asked.

"Put them in these plastic cases, and take some of the surgical glue and =
solvent, and just throw them in your suitcase.  The solvent is really =
just acetone, so its easy to replace,  The glue is a surgical glue you =
can get at any medical supply house," Mistress Donna said as she =
finished up removing the woven hair from my own.  I quickly dressed in =
my old clothes for the first time, and my first impression was of how =
rough they felt, and how ugly my face looked, but I wasn't about to =
complain.  But, I no longer looked like the me I had come to know!

"Ok, Shelia, I kept my end of the deal," I said.  "Give me the pictures =
and lets go."

"Aren't you forgetting something?", she asked.  "Are you gonna get on =
the airplane with your nails still done?"  But she handed me the =
pictures, which I tore up and lit on fire in the ashtray.  That ended =
that threat! =20

We just had time for breakfast before having to get to the airport.  We =
sat down together, just Shelia and I, at the outdoor cafe, where for the =
first time since we had arrived, there were lots of people dressed in =
men's clothing.  After a bowl of fruit, Shelia took out her lipstick and =
re-applied it to her lips.  Seeing me, apparently unconsciously looking =
for my missing purse, she handed me her lipstick and just laughed when, =
without thinking, I put it on.  Then I lit a cigarette from the pack on =
the table, and as I looked at the coral lipstick marks on the filter, it =
hit me----I was dressed as a guy, but was so tuned in to dressing as a =
woman that I didn't even think about fixing my lipstick; I just did it!  =
I laughed, and told Shelia I would have to be careful for a while.

"Are you still mad at me?", she asked.  "It wasn't so bad, was it?  And =
you are a lot nicer and kinder."

"Shelia, I don't want to talk about it right now.  Maybe later, but =
right now, I just want to get out of here," was my answer.

I know now that I should have told her exactly what I was thinking, like =
I had told Donna the morning before.  But there was still a vestige of =
the macho jerk in me, and I just didn't want her to know how I really =
felt.  So I kept it to myself.

The trip home was uneventful.  We went back to her apartment, because I =
had given up the lease on my little student apartment, and she had a =
real place because she had a real job. It was late when we got back =
home, and we went out for a quick bite to eat.  I kept having to watch =
myself because I tended to go in the wrong bathroom, and I felt =
uncomfortable in my clothes.  What I really wanted to do was to go home =
and change back into Chontelle, but I wasn't about to give Shelia the =
satisfaction.

That night, I couldn't sleep, and tossed and turned all night.  Saturday =
morning, I woke up and did my exercises, and had my now accustomed light =
breakfast and coffee.  Shelia was still in bed, and I snuck some =
lipstick out of her purse and put it on while I had coffee and a =
cigarette; I just couldn't help it!

Monday came, and Shelia went back to work.  I had followup letters to do =
and interviews to set up, so I stayed home.  Shelia wasn't gone 30 =
minutes, when I started to unpack and realized she or Donna had put my =
makeup in a set of black cosmetic bags in my luggage.  Without even =
thinking about it, I quickly did my face and eyes, and put on lipstick.  =
I searched for something to wear, but none of Shelia's things were large =
enough, so I settled for a robe I found in her closet, a pair of her =
panties, and a bra that was about 3 sizes too small.  What was going on =
here, I thought to myself?

That pretty much set the pattern for the next few weeks.  Shelia would =
go to work, and I would stay home and put makeup on.  I would wash it =
off before she got home.  I was wearing little hoop earrings, very =
masculine, to keep the holes open, but as soon as she left, I would put =
in a pair of her feminine earrings.  I hid all this from her, as well as =
my growing sense of dissatisfaction.

A week after we got back, a shipment of boxes arrived for Shelia from =
Arizona.  It was all the beautiful things we had purchased for me at the =
Ranch!  I couldn't wait to get them back on, but I feigned disinterest =
until Shelia left the next day for work.

When Shelia left for work the day after the boxes came, I rushed into =
the bathroom and drew a warm bubble bath.  After soaking for about 15 =
minutes, I shaved my legs and underarms for the first time since leaving =
the Ranch.  Critically, and with a now trained and practiced eye, I =
plucked the stray hairs from my eyebrows and started in on my makeup.  I =
was so excited and so relieved at the same time!

After I did my makeup, I found a wig that we had purchased at the Ranch =
for those occassions when I wanted the look of longer hair.  Before I =
put it on, I carefully broke open the boxes until I found the skirt and =
blouse I was looking for--the short denim skirt with the pale peach =
blouse.  I slipped on one of my bras and inserted the breast forms =
without bothering to glue them to me.  The tan colored hose and a pair =
of padded panties were next, and then the skirt and blouse.  I was =
hurrying much too fast, but it had been so long, it seemed! =20

My jewelry had made the trip back too, and I quickly found my rings, =
necklaces, bracelets and earrings.  A pair of sandals with 2" heels, a =
little lipstick, and I was Chontelle again.  Oh, I loved it, and I knew =
I couldn't give it up!  I looked so good, and I felt so right, that I =
decided to go out shopping at our mall.

That started the most glorious day I could remember up until then.  I =
spent the whole day as Chontelle, shopping, having lunch and just being =
me.  It was so grand that I hated to see it end, but I knew I had to get =
back.  Unfortunately, I didn't get home in time to change before Shelia =
got home, but I didn't think she would care.  After all, this had been =
her idea!

Well, Shelia did care.  She told me she hadn't bargained for this, and =
threw me out, to make a long story short.  And there I was, 24 years =
old, with 2 suitcases of student type clothing and guy things, and 3 =
wardrobe boxes full of female clothes.  Shelia gave me 3 days to find =
someplace to go and get my things out.

That started the worst period of my life.  I found a little walk up =
apartment in a really bad part of town.  Despite my MBA degree, I just =
didn't feel like a regular suit and tie job, so I took a job as a =
waiter.  I refused to start trimming my nails or hair, because I was =
spending as much time as possible as Chontelle.  With my long, oval =
shaped nails, my arched eyebrows, and my increasingly long hair, the =
rest of the staff was sure I was gay, but I didn't care.  I spent the =
days as Chontelle, and the nights as a waiter, except for the nights =
off, when I would go bar hopping as Chontelle.

After 5 or 6 months of this lifestyle, I was doing things I had never =
thought of doing.  Drinking had become my escape, and when I was dressed =
as Chontelle and drunk, there was almost nothing I wouldn't do.  Its a =
miracle I didn't catch some horrible diseases.  I started essentially =
prostituting with a transsexual named Marilyn, taking hormones and =
started electrolysis.  For a brief time, I even considered sexual =
reassingment surgery.

The gay guys usually didn't care when they found out about Marilyn and =
me, and about half of the straight guys didn't care.  We would go into a =
bar, buy a couple of drinks, get some guy or lesbian to start buying us =
drinks, and then go home with them.  If the guy was obviously gay, we =
would let him know what we were, but not if it was a lesbian or a =
straight guy, or if we couldn't be sure.   I kept up my exercises and =
continued to lose weight and I bet a lot of the straight guys never even =
figured me out.  I really didn't care at that point in my life.

After 5 or 6 months, I just stopped.  I woke up one day and decided I =
was going to get killed or get AIDS or just drink myself to death.  So I =
stopped.  I quit cruising the bars, but I never stopped dressing; it was =
too much a part of my life by then.  I was Chontelle more than I was =
William, and I couldn't let it go!

Oh god, look at the time!  My first night back at the Ranch after two =
weeks, and here I am up until 1:00 AM telling my story.  And its a story =
that may never see the light, unless the others here at the Ranch =
approve.  And I've got a new group coming in tomorrow, and as usual, its =
about half repeat members and about half new clients.  Where has the =
time gone?  Well, I need to get my beauty rest, and maybe soon I'll be =
able to fill in a few more of the blank pages about my life.=20


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