This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy scenes of graphic sexual activity.
   Please, if you are under the age of 18, or if you will be offended by such material, use your intelligence and read no further - delete file.  Otherwise ....enjoy!  

Distribute freely if you wish but, please, not to minors

A Matter of Design.

by Nessus

(Part 1)

“Doctor Winston is here, Mister Groves.”
“Thank you, Alison.” I replaced the ‘phone and stood behind my walnut desk, the city skyline stretching below me. “Not a bad view,” I murmured to myself. “To bad it cost thirty three point seven million.” I laughed and walked across the polished floors to the two heavy panelled entry doors.
Pausing, I studied myself in the wall mirror I had ordered to be placed on the wall. A man in my position has to look good and I looked great! Twenty six, tall, dark, handsome and with a very willing cock. Along with all that I just happed to be rich, very rich. Yes! Thank you daddy!
I plastered my winners smile on and swung the doors open. “Doctor Winston, “ I boomed sending a side smile to Alison, my secretary. Tonight, she would be mine!  There was no doubt. Either a quick blow job at the very least or she would be out of a job. “Doctor Winston,” I repeated, “Please come in.”
Doctor Winston smiled grimly, her face pale as she walked past me into the office, a stern figure in a tailored grey suit. She settled herself in a visitors chair without any prompting, a fact that pissed me off. She was, after all, an employee of the Groves Corporation!
“Well, Mister Groves,” she said without pausing,” so very good of you to see me after all my requests.” She smiled thinly and I flinched slightly. God, she was a scary bitch. OK, she’s was old - forty-five or fifty but she was tough and had some kind of relationship with the old man. I stalled her for as long as I could after his death but she just kept coming back.
“Well, Doctor Winston,” I muttered,” I have been busy.”
“It’s been seven months since….”
“”Since dad died,” I finished. “Yes. There have been things to do, clear up, you know….”
“Like screwing every stupid young girl who was impressed by your money!”
“Doctor Winston!” I exclaimed.
“Don’t bull-shit me, Paul. Besides,” she smiled,” I don’t care what you do with the money just as long as there is enough to support the Groves Research Laboratories.”
I had seen the name on the list of the divisions of the Groves Corporation but didn’t have a clue as to what they did. Newton, the Chief Financial Officer hadn’t briefed me on all the divisions.
I sat in my chair and smugly swung back. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Doctor Winston leaned forward. “Exactly what does that mean?” she asked quietly.
“Well,” I said, gesturing around, “this new building cost a lot of….”
“Thirty three point seven million,” she interrupted. “Make your point.”
“It’s a matter of choices. Priorities. Cuts will have to be made.”
“My research is at an extremely critical point. I have given my life to this project.  I need the funds! I’m so close to finishing.”
“Perhaps you can get it elsewhere?” I smiled. Money, after all, does give you power.
Winston’s eyes glittered. “Don’t fuck with me, Paul. Continue the funding! I don’t have time to waste on this crap.”
I slammed my open palm onto the desk. “Don’t you fuck with me!” I shouted. “Remember, I’m the one with the money. I’m the boss!” 
Doctor Winston stood up, her face cold as she stared down at me. “You’re a bigger fool than your father thought. And that’s saying something.” Turning on her heel, she stalked to the doors, wrenching them open and disappeared through them without a backward glance. 
Frustrated bitch, I angrily thought. She doesn’t like men. Doesn’t like me and I pay her bills! Well, fuck her! I had a mental picture of exactly that and I shuddered and laughed at the same time.
I buzzed Alison and stretched back in my chair.
Alison stood in the doorway, gorgeous in black with her red hair cascading down her shoulders. “Wow,” she said quietly,” Maggie was really pissed.”
“Maggie?”
“Doctor Winston. She really stormed out of here. What did you do?”
“Oh,” I said casually, “nothing much. Just explained to her who’s the boss now.”
“I see.”
“Come on in.” I waved an elegant hand. “Alison, I have this itch.”
“Huh?”
“Right here,” I smiled as I rubbed my crotch. “I need you to scratch that itch.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr Groves!”
“With your beautiful lips, dear. No big deal.” I laughed. “A blow job is part of the job description for my assistant, babe.”
“I don’t believe this! Haven’t you heard of sexual harassment?”
I shrugged. “Doesn’t apply to me, baby. Nothing does when you have money. And I’ve got a lot. Now,” I ordered,” get over here and suck my cock. That is,“ I added, “if you want your job.”
Alison smiled sweetly. “Stick your job right where you would probably love my finger, Groves!” The door slammed after her.
Dam, I thought, I have to find a new secretary tomorrow. Hey, wait a minute, I smiled to myself, that could be real fun. Sorting through all those sweet little babes in the secretarial pool. 
The day wasn’t that bad after all.

 
(Part 2) 
            
I spent the night with a girl I picked up at the restaurant. The good thing about living in a city of only four to five million is that word gets around a lot quicker, especially when it comes to money.
Shaking her awake at two am, I bundled her into a cab and sent her home so I could get a good nights sleep. I had a breakfast meeting at eight and didn’t want to be totally wrecked for it. I think her name was Sheila and she managed the restaurant or something. Not a bad fuck. A bit cliche but that was okay. She’ll be better next time. If there was a next time.
I arrived at the office a little after ten and was surprised to see Alison still seated at her desk.
“What are you still doing here? I thought you quit?”
“No,” she smiled coldly. “You’re going to have to fire me.”
I shrugged. “That can be arranged. Why?”
“More severance pay.”
I smiled and leaned over her desk, admiring the way her tits peeked out from her lacy blouse. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here?” She nodded slowly.” Is what I asked so bad? I bet you do it for your boyfriend. It’s no big deal.”
Alison glared up at me. “My boyfriends cock is probably ten times the size of your tiny little thing.”
I laughed. “Not tiny, baby. Why don’t you compare?”
She flushed angrily. “Leave me alone.”
“Okay. I’ll arrange for Personnel to fix your pay. You leave today.”
The door shut behind me but not before I heard a few sniffles become tears. Too bad, I thought, shaking my head. When will these babes get it right?
The city stretched out and I studied the tiny ants that made up human life in the city. A waft of smog hung over the city and jet airliner cruised across the clouds.
A small knock on the door and Newton  joined me for our weekly meeting.
“You’re late,” I said and Newton smiled calmly.
“I know.” The bastard knew I needed him. “What did you do to Maggie?”
Christ, everyone knew her by her first name! “Nothing,” I said innocently. “Why?”
Newton sat back and spilled some papers over the coffee table. He was about forty-something, bald kept to himself. I didn’t know much about him although I did know Dad trusted him. Not me though, I don’t trust anybody!
“She was quite angry last night but I think she’s calmed down.”
“Who gives a fuck!”
“Hey!” Newton slapped some papers down on the glass top of the coffee table. “You should! She is one very, very smart lady.”
“So?”
“So,” Newton explained patiently, “anything new she comes up with, you want to own. Get it?”
He was right. “Has she ever come up with anything?”
Newton sighed. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been telling you? She discovered the rubber compound additive that created your father’s first million. That’s all. Christ, try to remember!”
“Okay, okay. I’ll remember.”
“I bet.”
“I will. You’ve made a good point. I’m going to have to charm her.”
“What?”
“You heard. I’m going to have to charm the old bird.”
“Do you think you have the skills for that?” Newton said. “I mean, there is a small age difference.” “Hey, No problem. Women are all the same. She’ll be all sugar and spice before you know it.”
“Well,” Newton said slyly,” you’ll have to charm Alison as well.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You just don’t fucking listen do you? I waste my time briefing you. Alison is Maggies niece.”
“Oh shit,” I whispered, remembering our conversation. ”That’s going to make it difficult.”
Newton smiled thinly. “I’m sure you’ll cope. I mean, with your skills.  Let’s get on with the briefing, shall we?”
The phone buzzed, I picked it up and listened. “Thanks, Alison. And,” I said, “Look, I’m sorry about before.” I smiled at Newton. “It’s all happening,” I said as I replaced the phone. “Winston is going to call in a few moments.”
“What?”
“Apparently she’s phoned looking for an available time to call me. To make up,” I emphasised loudly. “This is great.”
“Okay, okay,” admitted Newton. “Just be nice. She can be incredibly ruthless when crossed.”
“Sure,” I laughed. “I bet.”
The phone rang.
“Doctor Winston,” I said smoothly. “How nice of you to call.”
“Paul, I must apologise for my temper last night.”
“No need,” I said. “Let’s just put it down to that time of the month, shall we?”
“Paul, I’m fifty six years of age. I don’t get….”
“Whatever. Doctor Winston….Can I call you Maggie?”
“Of course.”
“Maggie, we must put this behind us and go forward. Tell me, how is your research going?”
“Very well. Almost at its conclusion.”
“Is it new? I mean…..”
“I know exactly what you mean.” She laughed coldly. “I can assure you Paul that no one else is even close.”
“That’s fantastic! When can I see it or whatever. When?”
“Hmmmm, tonight?”
“Sure. Where?” A cold strange feeling washed over me. As my aunt would say, someone walked over your grave.
“At the Laboratories. Newton will tell you where. Give him my regards. ‘Bye.”
Slowly, I replaced the ‘phone. “Maggie says hi,” I said absently.
“Hi right back,” Newton said, pencil moving across the papers.
I watched him. “How did she know you were here?”
“I’m always here.”
“Always?”
“Of course.” He looked up. “What’s wrong?”
I shook the feeling off. “Nothing. I’m going to the Laboratories tonight. Can you give me directions?”
“Sure, it’s easy.”
I slowly turned and stared down at the traffic. For some reason, the view didn’t impress me any more.

 (Part 3) 
            
I left a little early to drive to the Labs as Groves Research Laboratories were situated on the coast about two hours drive from the CBD. As it was Friday and I was leaving for the weekend, I thought I spin a little charm them at the Labs, find out what Winston has to sell, then find a little hotel and cruise the coast before heading back to work on Monday.
My sports car handled the curves of the road well and I made good time, turning into the drive . of the labs an hour and forty five minutes after leaving the office. Dr Winston met me at reception.
“Paul,” she greeted me, holding her hand out. “Nice to see you again.”
I took her hand, held it a little longer than usual and smiled. “And you too, Maggie.” She raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing. “So,” I said, looking around, “this is the Labs.”
“No, this is reception. Come with me.” I followed her down the hall. Boy, was she a skinny one. Halfway down the hall, she started coughing and quickly excused herself into the ladies rest-room. A few moments later, she emerged, pale but smiling.
“Sorry,” she said. “’Flu virus. This way.”
A few moments later, I was seated in a small darkened theatre watching slides on the screen while Doctor Winston droned on about medical history, mind transference and other boring crap. Suddenly, a slide of a naked woman flickered onto the screen. I sat up. “What’s that?”
“I thought that might get your attention.”
“She looks asleep.”
“She is, in more ways than one.”
“How…?
“I made her, Paul.”
I turned in my seat. “Made her?”
“Cloned her in a special process, my process, that creates the body and allows me to paste, if you will, another persons mind into that new shell. I can even alter the mind itself to have the characteristics I want.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Imagine the possibilities,” she said excitedly. “No more death. Super intelligent beings, or, the reverse.”
“Yes,” I said slowly, studying the woman on the screen, “I see.” I didn’t really and I certainly didn’t see any big possibilities on the open market. Except maybe in Hollywood. However, that woman on the screen was beautiful with long blonde hair that seemed to float around her.
“Do you?”
“Yes.” She looked about twenty two or so but her eyes were closed. “What colour are her eyes?”
“Blue.” Winston switched the projector off, the lights came up and dark haired assistant entered with coffee. “Would you like something else rather than coffee?”
“No, coffee’s fine.” I smiled at the woman as she poured a cup. Wonder what she’s doing later, I thought as I watched her leave the room, her tight skirt moving with her round fleshy bottom.
“Paul,” Maggie said seriously, “I need that funding.”
“Sure,” I waved a hand. “We’ll discuss it at the next board meeting.”
“I can’t wait. No delays. I’m running out of time. I have devoted my life to this.”
“It’s not a delay, Maggie. The board meeting is in six weeks.” I looked at my watch casually but she still noticed the gesture so I quickly smiled.
“I see,” she said slowly. “Six weeks is a long time. Coffee all right?” she suddenly asked and I nodded, sipping from the white cup.
She kept watching me so I drained the cup, put in on the tray and looked around. “Do I get to see any more of the labs?”
“Of course. A lot more.” She smiled at me. “Is anything wrong?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said slowly, my mouth suddenly feeling dry,” I’m just tired.”
“I suppose you have been working hard.” 
Was that sarcasm, I wondered groggily? The room started to spin as I tried to stand.
“Goodbye, Paul,” she said from a distance and I slumped into darkness.


(Part 4) 
            
It was a grey world of twisted dreams. Half light, half people, half whispers. I was prodded and moved and slipped back into darkness when they decided. They controlled me.
For how long? I had no idea, I just drifted until the next dream.
I blinked my eyes and wet my lips. A figure swam into focus.
“If you can hear me, blink your eyes twice,” a woman’s voice said calmly. I blinked twice. “Good. Excellent.” My eyes focussed on a dark haired, dark skinned woman in a white coat.
I opened my mouth. “No, don’t try to talk,” she said quickly. “Rest for a moment.”  Sunlight was streaming in through blinds, casting shadows across the polished floor. “Now, I want you to wiggle the fingers on your left hand.” I wiggled. “Excellent. Now, the right hand.” I wiggled again and she was overjoyed. For the next few moments I wiggled my toes and moved my head from side to side, accompanied by a strange rustling sound that I put down to bandages.
She moved closer to me and stared at me seriously. “I’m Doctor Munro and you’ve been through a traumatic experience. Unfortunately, the trauma is not over. “ My eyes widened. “I want you to remain calm. I also want you to remember that we’re here to help you as you go through the steps to recovery. Now,” she said, leaning even closer, “please try to talk.”
I cleared my throat. “Where am I?” I gasped in shock at the sound of my voice. Higher, much higher, a little husky and definitely female. “What’s happening?” I shrieked.
Doctor Munro grasped my hand. “Rest. Don’t panic. You’ll pull the I.V. You’re in excellent physical condition.”
“My voice,” I screamed. “”What’s happened to me?” I pulled my hand from Munro’s and sat up. As I did, the bed linen covering me fell away revealing my naked body which included two large breasts. “My god!” I screamed even louder.
“Now,” hushed Doctor Munro, “it’s a shock. I know it’s a shock but take deep breaths.” I did but my breasts rose up to my face. I screamed again and I felt the sting of an injection. My eyes swept the room and I fell back against the pillows and into darkness.
Waking was difficult. Slowly, I half-opened my eyes, sweeping the room. Was it a dream, a nightmare? It was the same room, not as much sunlight so a least a few hours had passed. 
The woman was seated by the bed, reading a book, obviously waiting for me to wake. What was her name? Doctor? Doctor Munro. 
The realisation of the situation seized me and I quickly pulled the bed linen down. They were still there, two of them, large, bouncing and attached to me! My heart started pounding.
I turned to stare at her. “What’s happened to me?” I asked softly, trembling.
Munro spoke slowly, the book discarded to the floor. “Relax, if you can. I know you think that is impossible but I want you to try. I am going to give you the information you want in time but you can’t be hysterical.”
“I’m not hysterical,” I protested and then, adding to my confusion, I burst into tears.
Doctor Munro held me as I sobbed and digested the enormity of the situation. Thousands of questions flooded into my mind. Was I a woman? Was I a half man, half woman, some kind of freak! I started sobbing harder while Doctor Munro comforted me.
Finally, I managed to stop and accept the proffered tissue from Doctor Munro. Strangely, I felt better from crying and more focussed on the situation. As a man, I would never have cried or even considered it but that didn’t even seem important now.
“Doctor Munro,” I sniffled, “I think you better explain.”
She smiled. “Of course but, first, what do you remember?”
I thought back. “I went to GRL, met Doctor Winston and,” I paused as I tried to think and without the distraction of my strange voice. “ Coffee,” I said suddenly. The last thing I remember is drinking a cup of coffee. She drugged me,” said.
”Apparently. Please listen. You are the result of a hurried experiment that Doctor Winston tried to force through in the last hours of her life.”
“Experiment?”
“Mind transference.”
“That bitch! Why me? What did I do to her?” Anger rolled through me. “ Did the police get her? What happened to her?”
“Doctor Winston’s funeral,” she said solemnly,” was held five days ago.”
“She’s dead?” I was shocked. “Five days? How long have I….”
“Two weeks. Heavily sedated. Frankly, we didn’t know what to do with you.”
I screwed up the tissue into a little ball and flung it onto the bed. “I don’t know what to do with myself!” Suddenly, I burst into tears again.” “Why am I crying?” I sobbed.
“Female hormones. Your body is female and your mind is changing.”
“Changing?” I sobbed.
“We expect, no, we  hope, that your mind will become more female as well.”
“I don’t want to be female. I want to be my old self.” A thought occurred to me that maybe the experiment had not been totally successful. “Am I…?.” I howled.
“Totally female? Yes. You are not a freak. You are in excellent condition.”
“That’s good,” I howled, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I want to be a man again,” I sobbed as a sudden thought occurred. “What happened to me?”
“As I said,” she patiently began, “ you are the result…..””
“No,” I interrupted. “What happened to my body? Paul Groves!”
She looked downward.” Paul Groves body is,” she paused, “ unavailable.”
“Oh no,” I gasped. I was trapped for ever as a woman. Maybe, I could find another male’s body? This and other wild thoughts ran through my mind.
“Even if your old body was available, we don’t,” she said earnestly, “have the technology to switch you back. Without Doctor Winston we simply do not have a clue.”
“I see,” I sniffled, laying back on the pillows. I looked down at my jiggling breasts and felt my hair rustling around my head.
“It’s not all bad,” smiled Doctor Munro. “Believe me, being a woman is good. I’m a woman and I would not choose to be anything else.”
 “Really?” I sniffled.
“Yes. You’ll see.”
I smiled wanly and wiped my face.  “Who am I, Doctor?” I asked calmly, in that voice that still sounded if it was coming from another person.
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly.
“Who does this body belong to?”
“Doctor Winston cloned a young female body in a strange new process known only to her. Apparently, she was going to switch to it when her life gave out.” Munro paused. “Doctor Winston was suffering a terminal illness. You are in that body.”
Images of the slides on the screen rushed in. That beautiful young woman asleep, that was me?
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Am I still at the Labs?”
“No. At a private hospital not far from GRL. I want you to rest now.” Doctor Munro pushed a button. “Think about all this and we take the next step tomorrow.”
I smiled weakly at her. “What is your name?”
“Barbara.” She paused for a moment, watching me as if wondering what to say next. “What name would you like to use?” she finally asked.
Confusion hit me. Paul seemed alien now, especially with this face and body. “I don’t know.” I wailed in sudden realisation. “ I don’t know!”
A nurses aide entered and left a tray. As the door closed behind the nurse, Barbara quickly took a prepared injection and checked it. “Hush, now,” she soothed as she readied my arm. “Relax.” The needle slipped in. “Sleep and we’ll select a name tomorrow. How many people get to choose their own names? Not many but you will.”
What name, I thought. What happens now? A solitary tear crept down my cheek as I grieved for the death of Paul Groves.
Darkness swept in. 


This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy scenes of graphic sexual activity.
   Please, if you are under the age of 18, or if you will be offended by such material, use your intelligence and read no further - delete file.  Otherwise ....enjoy!  

Distribute freely if you wish but, please, not to minors

A Matter of Design.

by Nessus

(Part 5)             

I woke up screaming. For a moment, I had thought again it had been a bad dream, that I was still Paul Groves, until I opened my eyes fully and looked down. That’s when I screamed. A nurse rushed in and, assuming I had suffered a nightmare, comforted me.
A few moments later, Barbara walked in. “Thank you, nurse,” she said and watched the nurse leave the room. When the door closed, she spoke,” No one else here knows your old story.” I noticed she said “old” instead of true. “Let’s keep it that way. Now,” she smiled, “let me show you to the bathroom and our first lessons can begin.
I noticed the IV’s were gone, with just some plaster on the inside of my elbows to show where they’d been. Barbara helped me out of bed and guided me to the private bathroom. As she steadied me, I stared at myself in the full length mirror. Slightly shorter than Barbara, I had a full mouth, wide blue eyes and high cheeks bones. My face was beautiful. Involuntarily, my eyes wandered down to my large breasts, wide hips and the sparse blonde pubic hair between my long legs. Barbara’s dark hand on my arm accentuated the whiteness of my skin.
“Not too bad, eh?” Barbara said kindly.
“No,” I mumbled. “I suppose not.”
Doctor Munro pointed at the toilet. “Sit,” she commanded.” And do what comes naturally.”
I did and Barbara showed me how important it was to wipe properly and showed me how to wash myself thoroughly in the shower. When she had finished the instructions, I jumped into the shower and started soaping myself. As I shampooed my long hair, I found myself thinking I would have loved to soak in a bath but the shower was nice. I was surprised, As Paul, I hated baths as a waste of valuable time.
After conditioning my hair, I washed off, towelled myself dry and wrapped a towel into a turban around my hair.
Barbara handed me a robe and I slipped into it.
The realisation of my simple actions hit me. “Barbara,” I asked suddenly, pointing at the turban. “How did I do that?”
She led me in to the bedroom and gestured for me to sit on the bed. I did, making sure the robe was closed properly.
“You must remember,” she began, “that Doctor Winston planned to use your body herself. She had all ready created a layer of basic female memories, patterns, rhythms and habits as the basic foundation for her transference process.”
“So female stuff is all ready in my head?”
Barbara laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“I see. In the shower, I found myself wishing for a bath instead of a shower. Is that another thing from my head?”
“Probably. Nothing like soaking in a hot luxurious bath. Anyway, a lot of what you need to know is there, “ she pointed at my head. “We just have to make sure it fits with you and that you understand. Have you thought of a name?” she asked suddenly. I shook my head. “I have.”
“What?”
“Lucy. Lucy Paul.”
“Lucy,” I said softly, listening to the sound of it. “It’s nice.”
 “Okay Lucy,” Barbara said, opening a drawer, “let’s introduce you to the practical side of women’s underwear.” Smiling, she produced a white bra and panties.
Standing, I dropped the robe and stepped into the panties and slipped the bra on. Surprisingly, my fingers connected the straps behind me without a problem. Startled, I looked at Barbara. “Those little things will become part of your life soon. Don’t worry. Now, sit and we’ll dry your hair.”
I sat in front of the mirror and watched my breasts rise and fall in the white lace bra while Barbara used the hair dryer. A tiny voice inside me protested that, as a man, I shouldn’t be dressed in women’s lacy underwear, that I must look ridiculous. The truth was that I felt comfortable in the lingerie and the bra certainly made my large breasts more comfortable. I also knew, intuitively,  I didn’t look ridiculous. If the old Paul Groves could see me as I was now, I knew it would have an instant erection. I smiled at the thought.
“There,” said Barbara. “Nice and simple.” She had brushed my long hair straight back over my shoulders and down my back in a loose pony-tail, held with a simple green scrunch. “You’ll have to take a lot of care with your hair if you’re going to keep it long. “Now,” she said, handing me a lipstick,” let’s see if your mind remembers other things.”
I took the lipstick and slid it open and, before I knew it, was quickly applying it to my lips. Looking around the table, I picked up some blusher and lightly applied it to my cheeks and a hint of eye make-up to make my eyes wider. As I blotted my lips Barbara started at the reflection. “Wow,” she said and I blushed. Wonder flowed through me. How did I do that?
She picked a simple white dress from the wardrobe and handed it to me. I slipped it over my head, careful not to get make-up on it and flicked my hair out. Simple white sandals followed. Twirling in front of the mirror, I critically looked at myself. The tiny voice in mind said  this wasn’t right, against the laws of nature but I still liked what I saw.
So did Barbara. “Lucy,” she said, putting an arm around me as we stared at the reflection, “you are beautiful. I’m jealous”. Barbara produced a pill and a paper cup of water. “Take your vitamin and we’ll go down to cafeteria for breakfast.”
Swallowing the pill, I followed Barbara out the door and into the corridor. A feeling of apprehension swept over me and I faltered, stomach churning, but suddenly as the feeling came it passed and I felt quite calm and serene.
Barbara waited, looking cool and in control in her dark blue suit and cream blouse, smiling at me and taking my hand. “You’ll be fine,” she whispered, dropping my hand as we walked down the hall, my dress rustling around me. The actual act of walking was strange with my centre of gravity changed and my breasts in my peripheral vision.
A young man in a white uniform passed us. “Good morning Doctor Munro,” he said, his eyes travelling over me.
“Hi Don.” As we moved a few steps further on, Barbara whispered out of the side of her mouth. “I bet he’s giving you the once over. Can you feel it?”
“Yes,” I answered truthfully.
“Don’t look back,” she warned. “Unless you’re interested,” she teased. 
“Barbara!” I hissed. “Don’t!”
The cafeteria was busy, full of staff and patients alike. Sunlight streamed in from large windows that overlooked the rolling ocean. A buzz of conversation, people laughing and the clink of plates and utensils filled the room. 
Barbara grabbed a tray and lined up and I quickly followed suit. “Fruit, juice and cereal,” Barbara instructed. “Coffee as well, if you like.” Nodding, I placed some muesli and fresh fruit on the tray and moved with Barbara to the drinks section.
“Good morning, Doctor Munro,” a tall dark man behind the counter called, glancing at me.
“Hi Bob,” answered Barbara. “Bob, this is Lucy. She’s with us for a little time.”
“Hello Lucy,” he smiled, eyes starting at my breasts, lingering on my face and moving back to my breasts. God, I thought, was I that obvious when I was Paul?
“Hello, Bob,” I said shyly.
“Juice and coffee for me, Bob,” Barbara requested.
While Bob was pouring, he glanced at me and my breasts again. “What would you like, Lucy?”
“Juice and a cup of tea, please.”
“Tea,” he smiled. “You must be British?”
I glanced at Barbara. As Paul, I had never liked tea and preferred coffee.
Barbara quickly jumped in. “Ah, Bob, that’s a mystery to keep you on your toes. Have a good day,” she said, picking up her tray and moving away.
“You too, Doctor. And you as well, Lucy,” he smiled as I followed Barbara, knowing he was probably watching me walk.
“Get used to it, girl,” Barbara said as she sipped a juice, her white teeth shining in her beautiful dark face.
“What?”
“Come on. It always happens. Breasts first, then legs, a short glance at the face and back again to the breasts. It’s the way of the world. Man’s world.”
“I wonder if I was that obvious. As Paul, I mean.”
“I never met Paul but he was a man. Pretty horny one, I hear.” I lowered my eyes and took a spoonful of muesli. “So, my guess is he would have been far worse than Bob. Bob’s a nice guy, harmless, friendly and cheerful. He’s one of the few men that I’ve seen that smiles almost as much as a woman. He is, however, a guy. A guy,” she emphasised. ”You should remember how guys act.”
I did and wanted to change the subject. ”This must be very exclusive to have a view like that,” I said, motioning towards the windows.” “Barbara nodded. “How long will I be here? Where do I go from here?”
“I want you here for a minimum two weeks as I want you to be here when you experience your first menstruation.” I blushed and Barbara smiled gently. “Something else  to get used to. After that,” she said, looking away for a moment, “well, we’ll just have to wait and see. Now, eat your breakfast.”

 (Part 6)             

After breakfast, I had a complete physical examination from Barbara, a unique experience and so different from Paul’s quick stops at the doctor when he had an ache or a virus. This was intense and embarrassing. When I complained, Barbara became annoyed. “Stop whining,” she said crossly, “this is necessary. Imagine what it would be like if I were a man.”
I looked at her, framed by my legs in the stirrups. “Worse?” I said softly and she started to laugh.
“You believe it, Lucy. But we girls have to keep our health.” She stood up. “Okay, sit up and we’ll start the guided tour.”
For the rest of the morning, I received detailed instructions, almost a users guide to my new body. I was curious, embarrassed to show my ignorance (and I was truly ignorant as I found) and absorbed in the implications.
I quickly came to appreciate Barbara’s earthy way of expressing herself and her honesty. In a few short hours it was like we had been buddies for years and years.
Once or twice I couldn’t remember something and Barbara became cross again. Once, she put her hands on her hips as her dark eyes glared at me. “How many woman did you have sex with?” she snapped. 
Obviously, she meant as Paul. “I can’t remember,” I mumbled, looking away and flicking my hair.
“A lot, though,” she prodded.
“I guess.” I looked to the side, trying to avoid her gaze.
“Did you ever consider the woman or was it all for you?” she sneered.
That hurt and a few distant memories rushed across my mind. “No, never,” I admitted. Then, suddenly,  I burst into tears, rocked by the memory of what I had been, what I had done and by the new reality of what I had become. Barbara silently gave me a tissue and I snuffled into it. ”I was terrible, Barbara. And I’ve just realised it. I used a lot of people.”
“And they probably used you, Lucy,” she said softly.
“And I can’t get used to this crying at the slightest thing.”
Barbara nodded.  “ We women are emotional. It’s actually good therapy. Men should try it.”
“I guess I am trying it,” I said pushing the tissue up my sleeve.
Barbara watched me do it in fascination. “Yes,” she said slowly, “I guess you are. Anyway,” she said with false brightness, “back to work.”
We worked through until lunch. Barbara produced a small hamper of sandwiches and we walked through the gardens to find a spot to picnic. It was wonderful to be outside in the sun, wind blowing my hair and my dress as we walked through the lush and beautiful gardens.
We found a bench and I stared out onto the rolling ocean below us. “This is so beautiful,” I sighed. “So wonderful.” 
“Yes,” said Barbara and I suddenly realised she was staring at me. “You are, you know,” she said seriously. “You’ve handled this so well.”
“Apart from screaming every time I wake.”
“That’s not bad. It could be worse.”
“Try to kill myself?” I asked and she nodded slightly. “I’m not the type.”
“That’s what I mean. You’ve handled this well.”
“I have no choice,” I said. 
“Yes, I know that but I don’t think I could have handled this happening to me as well as you have.”
“I’m sure you could,” I said and patted her hand. Suddenly frozen, I looked at my white fingers on her black arm.
“Don’t worry, Lucy,” Barbara said softly. “It’s simply a very female gesture. We females like to touch.” She licked her red lips and I felt drawn into her dark eyes.
After a moment, I pulled back. “Tell me Doctor,” I said gaily,” do you spend this much time with all your patients?”
Barbara slowly selected a sandwich. “No,” she said, “only those that have changed gender overnight.”
“Oh,” I said, “all of those patients,” and we both laughed. For the rest of the lunch we enjoyed the sun and talked about simple things, colours of flowers, the sea and the beach.
That afternoon, I was introduced to the body movement and gender guidance counsellors. They had been advised that I had suffered a traumatic incident and had lost or confused my gender identities and were there to guide me on the little things.
By little things, I mean how to sit properly, how to walk, how to throw a ball and all the other moves that would indelibly identify me as female. A lot, so they told me, I was all ready unconsciously doing and they were convinced it was because my real identity was surfacing. Little did they know.
It occurred to me that, even after just one day awake, my real identity was slipping away. And  I was coldly watching that identity die. 
I did learn a lot though, an incredible amount really. I also learnt something about myself. One of the counsellors was a forty something male with a ginger beard. During the session I discovered that a smile from me aimed directly at him had interesting results. His chest swelled, he gave a little grin and he obviously felt good about himself. Amazing, a smile bolsters self esteem in the urban male. Perhaps, I thought l sarcastically to myself, I could write a paper on it an become a doctor like Barbara.
The last session for the day was a brief one with a fitness instructor who ran through the right food groups and the correct amount of exercise as well as an exercise program. The hospital had a fully equipped gymnasium and I could use it anytime I wanted to.
Dinner was a light meal in the cafeteria alone. I hadn’t seen Barbara since lunch but I assumed she had a lot of patients and work to attend to so I headed for the cafeteria for a quite meal on my own. 
It didn’t work out that way. As soon as I lined up, a young man asked if he could help me. I smiled, shook my head and moved on. Bob was eating at a table and when he saw me, rushed over to offer help with my tray.
“Lucy,” he implored, taking my tray in one quick movement, “sit with me. I’ve just finished my shift. Please?” he smiled. I was trapped and I had just learnt how much stronger a male was. He just took the tray from me without the slightest effort. Damn it, I have to work out more! 
Sitting down, I started on my meal while Bob moved things around on his tray and the silence dragged on. At last, Bob spoke. “So,” he said, “you’re British?”
“British?” I said, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”
“See,” he said, smiling broadly. “You are. You just said a British thing.”
It didn’t matter what Barbara said, this man was a moron. “I’m sorry,” I said coolly,” a British thing?”
He was really laughing now and that really annoyed me. “Lucy, you sound like a Shakespearian actress or something.”
That shocked me. I was saying things differently. Maybe he was right. How was I to know? Thankfully, we had an interruption.
“Bob, how’s it going?” A males voice cut it and a familiar looking man stood next to the table, smiling down at me.
“Oh, hi Don,” a sullen Bob answered.
“Well, Bob,” said Don, smiling broadly at me, “introduce me.”
“Yeah. This is Lucy.”
“Hello Lucy.” Eyes to my breasts, up to my face and down to my breasts again. How predictable. ”I’m Don. I saw you in the corridor this morning with Doctor Munro.”
“Really? Nice to meet you,” I said, smiled, and went back to my meal. Don appeared crestfallen while Bob smirked.
“Okay guys, “ a female voice broke in. “Let the lady eat in peace. On your way.” Both guys quickly moved away and I turned to see a plump redhead woman of about forty and dressed in the pink uniform of the female cafeteria staff, a trolley full of dirty plates next to her. She smiled at me and I quickly returned the smile. “You looked like you wanted out.”
“I did, “ said softly. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem. What’s your name?”
“Lucy,” I replied without hesitation.
“Cheryl. Nice to meet ya.”
“You too.” I smiled warmly. “Thanks.”
“Thought you’d be used to all this attention, honey, with your looks.”
“You don’t get used to it, Cheryl. I’m just sick of them looking at my tits all the time.”
Cheryl laugh loudly. “Honey, that’s life. You’d hate it without ‘em. Nice to meet you.” She pushed her trolley away. The sisterhood was amazing. Females assisted each other, understood each other via minute signals and had a body language all of their own. When I get back to being male, this information is going to be invaluable.
What, I said to myself, get back? It can’t happen. Wake up.
Maybe it can. There must be someone on Winston’s staff that assist.
Remember, Barbara said there was no hope.
You believe that? Hang on, maybe you want to believe that? Are you enjoying being a woman?
Shut up, I said mentally. Shut the fuck up!
Furious with myself, I swept the remains in the meal in to the garbage and, walking swiftly past  a lingering Don, I made it to my room.
I found a note from Barbara to take my vitamin. On the bed was a small package. Without hesitation I took the vitamin as I always felt better after wards. Quickly, I opened the package and found a pale blue silk lace teddy and matching panties. The note from Barbara said: For a special girl whom I admire.  A tear came to my eye and I wiped it away. How nice and how thoughtful.
Slowly, I laid the teddy and panties out on my pillow and stared at them. They were beautiful but I shouldn’t want to wear them, an internal  voice said, you’re a man. I glanced in the mirror. I didn’t look like a man and I did want to wear them. 
Tired from the days activities, I spent the next hour getting ready for bed. 
Without hesitation, I slipped into the gift from Barbara and preened in front of the mirror. I knew that if the old Paul could see me now, he just wouldn’t get an erection, I knew for a fact he would cum!
Smiling at that, I leapt into bed, read a magazine for while and then sleepily and flicked the light off.
In the darkness, the voices took over, arguing about right and wrong, girls versus boy. Luckily I was just too tired and I fell into a deep sleep.


(Part 7)             

The alarm signalled a new day and, this time, I didn’t start with screaming. Instead, I stretched, looked down at myself in the pale blue teddy with my uncontrolled breasts and I smiled wryly.
Jumping out of bed, my first thought was- what to wear?
Now, that brought me up quickly. Where did that come from, I asked myself?  And, more importantly, what do I wear?
Quickly, I pulled the wardrobe door open and saw extra clothes had been added to the white dress I had hung the night before. Someone, Barbara probably, had come in during the night without disturbing me. Boy, I thought, I must have really been tired.
Excitedly, I pulled out a maroon colored full blouse and black stretch pants. Thankfully, someone had left black strappy sandals as well. The drawers revealed new underwear, black this time, so I headed for the bathroom.
I must admit it takes a lot longer for a woman but it’s not so bad. In fact I quite enjoyed the time on my own, reflecting on the day before and thinking about what was to come. To be sure, I made a few personal decisions during that time.
The black underwear look deadly on me, full lace bra and high cut panties. Killer gear. Again., I thought of Paul seeing me like this and I had the sudden realisation that, perhaps, I was really imagining what I looked like to any male! 
I felt sick and sat down at the dressing table, automatically removing the shower cap and brushing my hair. There is no way I’m homosexual! Pushing the thought out of my mind, I fixed my hair, my face and slipped the blouse and pants on.
The shoes were a slightly higher heel but they weren’t uncomfortable. 
The mirror showed a woman, about twenty something, blonde and beautiful. As I looked at the reflection, realised I was looking at myself differently, not as a man but as a woman with a critical eye, checking my appearance. Life is strange and the life I had before seems nothing but a dim memory. I took a deep breath and walked to the windows, pulling the curtains wide open to stare down at the rolling blue sea. I could kill myself, I thought. Would that make it all right? Would that even things up?
I sagged against the window frame and watched the rolling waves. So deep in thought, that I didn’t hear the door open.
“You still with us?” Barbara’s voice entered my  thoughts and I turned to face her. She was in a cream linen suit that highlighted her dark colouring beautifully. No doubt about it, she was a striking woman.
“Yes,” I said with a fragile smile. “Still here.” I added brightly, tears forming.
“Honey,” Barbara said moving close. “You’re such a brave thing.”
“No, I’m not,” I said blinking the tears away.
“Oh yes you are,” she said softly, holding me close, her perfume enveloping me in security. I sobbed brokenly into her shoulder. “It’s all right, “ she soothed. “It’s okay, Lucy dear.”
Finally, I had the inner strength to pull away and I smiled at her through my last tears. “You’re so kind to me, Barbara,” I said. “Thank you.”
Barbara wiped her own eyes. “You’re easy to be kind to. I admire you, no, respect you for the kind of guts you’ve got.” The last comment sounded strange, almost false.
“Oh,” I said softly, “That’s nice.”
“No, wait a minute. I’m sorry. That sounded weird, even to me. I guess I was  trying to talk male and it doesn’t work.”
“Barbara, “I said, “talk to me. Just me.”
Barbara held me by the shoulders and stared directly into my eyes. “I’ve never met a braver person or even read about a braver person. You are moving into uncharted areas and doing it in style, girl!”
“Don’t,” I laughed shyly. “You’ll give me an enormous head.”
“Oh, with your looks you need a bigger head! Fix your face, Lucy and let’s tantalise those guys in the cafeteria again.”
“Don’t I get a vitamin?”
Barbara turned slowly. “No more vitamins, Lucy.”
“But they made me feel better.”
“I know.” She rested her hand on my arm. “Lucy, those vitamins were tranquillisers. They were prescribed to help you cope in the initial stages but a prolonged dose is dangerous. “ Barbara searched my eyes. “I can give you a sedative if you have trouble sleeping, okay?”
I nodded and fixed my face in the mirror. She was right. I have to be able to handle this on my own without chemical help.
“Splendid,” I said to my reflection, placing the lipstick on the table and spun around to see Barbara with a strange look on her face.
“Lucy,” she said slowly. “Promise you won’t get mad at me.”
“Of course,” I said without hesitation.
“But, Bob was right, you sound more and more British every time you talk.”
“Oh really?” I said.
“Yes, oh really,” she said, mocking an upper class English accent and, both laughing, we went to breakfast.



(Part 8)             

Breakfast was uneventful, we just talked and ate and talked. Bob was on duty and we chatted while we loaded our trays. I couldn’t see Don or Cheryl around.
After breakfast, we walked to Barbara’s office and I had a quick look at the certificates that lined her wall. The range of qualifications were very impressive and, I realised, far beyond my capabilities. 
Barbara unlocked her office. “Don’t pay attention to those,” she said. “Come in, I’ve a surprise for you.” Three large cardboard boxes were on the floor in one corner. “There,” she said, pointing at the boxes. “They were delivered yesterday.”
I noticed courier stickers on them and the GRL logo. “What are they?”
“Clothes,” Barbara said smugly. “New clothes. All for you.”
“For me?”
“Doctor Winston had been planning this for sometime and she had a whole wardrobe selected and stored for her new body. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out.”
“No,” I said quietly. “They didn’t.”
Barbara studied me for a moment. “You okay?”
“Of course,” I said with false brightness. “This is exciting. Just like Christmas.”
“More like your birthday,” she said pointedly.
She was right. “Yes,” I agreed. “I guess it is. It really is.” Barbara smiled and hugged me briefly. “Okay,” I said. “Do I get to open them now?”
Barbara shook her head. “I’ll have them taken around to your room. Why don’t you go back to your room and freshen up?”
“Good idea, What’s on the agenda today?”
“First up, another surprise. I arranged for a beauty consultant to spend an hour with you discussing cosmetics, make up and other things. After she’s finished, my hairdresser, Vince is coming in to discuss hairstyles and hair care.” She saw the look of fear on my face. “Don’t worry, Lucy they do not know your history.”
“Vince? Barbara, I don’t think I’m ready to spend time alone with a man. Not yet.“ Strange that I didn’t say ’another’ man.
Barbara laughed. “Don’t worry about Vince. He spends all day with women. He’s, well, you’ll see. By the way, Helen, the beauty consultant has instructions to supply you with everything you need. All charged to GRL.”
“Why are they doing that?”
“I guess they feel a little responsible.”
“Responsible?”
“For the, ah, situation.”
“Is that what they call it! The situation? How nice!”
Barbara winced at my tone. “Lucy,” she said patiently, “ This is difficult for all of us…….”
“I’m sure it is.” I interrupted coldly. For some reason, I was getting a little tense, even angry.
“You know it is. We’re trying to help you.”
“And what happens after all this female stuff this morning?” I said bluntly.
“More education and talking.”
“Not more biology,” I complained. “Barbara, I am an adult. I think I know enough now.”
“Is that a fact,” she said. “Tell me, when are you fertile? What’s a yeast infection? How do you treat it?”
“Okay, okay,” I accepted there was a lot more for me to learn.  “What are we talking about, then?”
“Don’t you know,” she teased, “females like to talk.”
“I see, “ I said icily. “Have you forgotten I’m male?”
Barbara held my arm. “Don’t get angry. I know how difficult this is…”
“Do you?” I snapped. “I don’t think you do.”  I saw the hurt look in her eyes and immediately felt bad. “Oh Barbara, I’m sorry,” said. “I just seem to be on an emotional roller coaster today. You’re right. It’s a good idea to talk it through more.”
“Only if you want to.” Barbara studied me for a moment. “Lucy, how do you feel?”
“Terrible. I’m sorry I snapped at you that way.”
“No, I mean physically. Breasts a little tender? Feeling a little bloated?”
“Yes,” I admitted. ”A little. I’ve had a few pains in my stomach too. Breakfast just hasn’t agreed with me.”
Barbara smiled. “Girl, I think your period is coming.”  She laughed when she saw the look on my face. “It’s not that bad. Try not to take you PMT out on Helen and Vince. Okay? Helen is first and she’ll be waiting for you in Room 32, just down the hall in 30 minutes. All right?”
I nodded, opened the door and, on some impulse, kissed Barbara goodbye on the cheek. I gasped when I had done it but Barbara patted my arm. “Why Lucy,” she said warmly. “So nice and so very female.” She kissed me goodbye and I quickly walked back to my room to freshen up.
A short while later I walked down the hall towards Room 32. I was getting used to the new movements of my body, the bouncing and jiggling, and I suddenly realised that I was walking comfortably in the higher heels. Not that you could call these types of shoes comfortable, I thought.
A male staff member was pushing an old woman in a wheelchair. As we passed, the woman smiled at me and I smiled back while the young man looked me up and down and up again. Moving down the hall, I could sense he had turned his head to study my bottom in the tight black pants. I resisted the urge to wiggle to tease him, stopped outside Room 32 and knocked.
The morning sped by. 
Helen was nice and very helpful. She discussed the many ways I could do my face and she also offered to pierce my eras and insert studs. After a moments hesitation, I agreed. I walked away with a comprehensive assortment of cosmetics, perfumes and other accessories and some great ideas for my face. Strangely, I couldn’t wait to try them out.
Vince was great. Obviously gay, he was kind and very creative. I found it quite soothing to sit in the chair, to idly gossip and to be pampered. Again, I came away with new skills, new ideas and lots of supplies as well as being very relaxed. Getting your hair done was a nice way to handle PMT.
Barbara and I were friends, there was no doubt about that. I knew it and she knew it, I sure. Of all the things that amazed me about this transformation, the ability of females to communicate and become intimate on an emotional basis with another was the most amazing. There was no doubt that I cared for her. As a male, if I had the same relationship with a woman, I would have married her.
I guess I settled into a routine over the next two weeks. Breakfast, examinations or education, a light lunch followed by a heavy work out in the gym and, then, dinner and an early night. I was proud of the fact I didn’t need those sedatives.
Yes, I did get my period and Barbara was right, it wasn’t that bad. Uncomfortable on the heavy days, tiresome on the others but a constant reminder that I was a woman. It’s an event, Barbara explained, that proves that, as a woman, you are in tune with the Moon, Nature and the universe. Yeah, right.
I must admit I loved what was in those cardboard boxes. Winston had designed a body she was going to be proud to live in and one that was going to be proud and stylish. Methodically, she labelled one box D, (day-wear), another C/SW (casual and sportswear) and the third box E/S (evening and sundry items). It took me a while to figure the code for that one.
But I did enjoy it and, I must admit, I think the guys enjoyed what I wore to the gym. Barbara told me my leotard was baaaad.
The inner voices had subsided and I was settling into what I considered to be my life. Barbara challenged me and asked if I was ‘just acting’ or ‘living’. Was I performing the role of a woman or was I a woman?
I didn’t know.
More importantly, I knew my time at the hospital was ending. There wasn’t anything else they could do for me. Where to now? How I would I live? What was I to do with this life that had been forced upon me?
The wonderment of being a new beautiful and alien creature had dissipated.
Now, when I looked in the mirror, I could see my imperfections, the faults I would like corrected and wondered how I could use cosmetics to accentuate my good points while eliminating or hiding the bad ones.
I still felt like an impostor in this body, a tourist and felt guilty when I explored it. My sexual feelings were confused and I had not had a real sexual urge since I awoke. The old Paul would have been horny every hour. Maybe it’s meant to be like this for a woman. Life was confusing.
When I remembered the past, it was like looking at an old home movies. I knew I had been there but the figure on the flickering screen in my mind was someone else. It wasn’t really me but someone I used to know, a long time ago.

 
(Part 9)             

I met Barbara in her office after a work-out in the gym. Casually dressed in Levis, crop top and loafers, I lounged on her sofa while she finished up some calls.
Finally, she turned her mobile phone off, shut it and flung it into her bag. “I’ve got some great news.” I looked up from the Vogue magazine I was reading and waited. “We are going to have some fun!”
“Fun?” I tossed the magazine onto the sofa.
“You bet. We’re going into the city.”
“When?”  I asked nervously.
“Tomorrow. We’ll go in the morning, do the shops, have dinner and. Maybe, a show. There’s a revival of “Phantom of the Opera” in the district. I can get tickets and, then, we’ll stay at a ritzy hotel for the night. GRL is picking up the tab!”
“Really?” I asked apprehensively.
“I’ve got a travel bag I can lend you. Pick out a nice evening outfit from those boxes and we’ll have some fun.”
“Uh, Barbara, do you think I’m ready to mix with, you know, other people?”
“Of course you are.”
“But, you know, people…” I paused, lost.
“You mean men,” she said emphatically. “Go look in that mirror,” she pointed at a wooden framed morrow above the sofa. 
I kneeled on a sofa and peered into the mirror. A young woman smiled back at me. “You’re as ready as you’ll ever be, Lucy. Got to take that first step,” she said seriously.
I stroked my cheek and watched the reflection. “Maybe you’re right,” I said.
“Well?” she questioned and I jumped off the sofa.
“Let’s have party!”
I slept fitfully that night but I was packed in my borrowed bag early and I sat on the edge of my bed, dressed, waiting for Barbara.
The inner voices came back.
What am I doing?
Living, trying to build a life. Do you mind?
For a moment, they almost drew me back but I held on. Ignoring the turmoil in my mind I moved to the mirror and applied my lipstick and that’s how Barbara found me when she burst in.
“Ready?” she called.
I put the lipstick down and turned around. “Jeez,” she breathed, “how do you do it?”
Casually, I flicked my long blond hair and smiled. “Do what?” I asked innocently.
Barbara shook her head. “You know what you look like, girl. Fantastic! You’re a guided missile.,”  I wore a simple sleeveless suit in beige linen and a straight skirt with my hair out and resting over my shoulders and partially down my back. A dark blue blouse and a simple gold chain around my throat finished the picture. 
Barbara was dressed in a tailored light grey trouser suit with a pink lace blouse.
We looked great!
I think we laughed all the way as we drove down the coast. “You know, “ said Barbara, “: we could almost imagine we were driving to LA, to meet movie stars.”
“Just wait a moment,” I said. “Don’t get carried away. We’re not driving to  LA, just to…”
”Oh thanks for the reality check.” The top was down and the wind ruffled the pink scarf Barbara had wrapped around her head, black sunglasses glinting. “Relax, for God’s sake. We’re going to have fun, aren’t we?”
“Yes, “ I agreed meekly. “We’re going to have fun.”
“Just like Thelma and Louise,” she laughed.
“God, I hope not,” I said fervently.
“Wonder which one of us get to screw Brad Pitt?” she said mischievously.
“Barbara!” I protested and stared down the road through my sunglasses, my hair floating in the wind.
“There’s a spare scarf in the glove box, if you want.”
I pulled the glove box open, found a white scarf and quickly wrapped it around my head to hold my hair. A few weeks ago, I thought wryly, I wouldn’t have known how to do that. 
Barbara pulled into the other lane to pass a truck. As we drew alongside, the driver looked down, smiled and waved. I smiled back until I realised he was looking at my legs in my short skirt. As we passed the truck, the truck driver honked his horn. Barbara giggled and we sped down the highway. 
Barbara had reserved adjoining rooms at one of the best hotels in the city and, as we arrived at lunchtime, we decided to have a light lunch at one of the many restaurants in the hotel.
The car was parked, our bags were whisked away to our rooms and, after freshening up in the powder room, we sat at a table for two by the window in the restaurant on the twenty second floor. The view was breathtaking, the menu extensive and the restaurant was buzzing with people. Nervously, I looked around.
“Will you please relax,” Barbara pleaded. 
“Sorry, it’s just that I might see someone I know.”
“Sure,” she smiled, “and they’re going to recognise you?” she asked, gesturing up and down my body with her finger.
I crossed my legs, adjusted my skirt, leaned back in my chair and smiled. “No, probably not.”
“Probably not,” Barbara mimicked my accent.
A young dark haired waiter stood at our table, smiling down at us and filling our glasses with spring water. “Good afternoon ladies,” he said, handing us our menus. “A drink from the bar while you consider our menu?” He smiled directly at me for a moment and I smiled back just as his eyes dropped for a second to my breasts and back again.
“Well,” I said, pretending to think while I uncrossed and then crossed my legs. “What do you think, Barbara?” I said innocently as I watched the waiter’s eyes glued to my long legs.
“Young man,” Barbara said and reluctantly he drew his eyes to her. “I’d like a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks.” 
He nodded and swiftly turned back to me. “Mam?”
“A Gin with ice and a dash of lemon.” I had no idea where that came from and we watched him hurry away.
“Nice butt,” she said and I flushed. “No harm in looking, is there, Lucy?” she said, a half-smile on her lips. “Have you had sexual feelings yet?” she asked softly so the next table wouldn’t hear. “Real desire?”
I shook my head. “I’m very confused in that department.”
“You weren’t a moment ago, teasing that poor boy. He looks about twenty.”
“You forget, that’s my new age.”
Barbara nodded. “Yes, you’re right. But you still teased him. Did you find him attractive? He was gorgeous but too young for me.”
“Yes,” I slowly admitted, “I did. But I’m mixed up. I find you attractive,” I rushed out and wished I hadn’t.
Barbara smiled tenderly as she touched my hand. “That’s a nice thing to say, Lucy. Very nice.” The waiter returned with our drinks and placed them in front of us. “Will I give you a few more moments?” he asked.
“I think we are probably interested in your Caesar salad?” she said raising an eyebrow at me and I nodded.
“But no anchovies for mine, please,” I said, smiling up at him and he stared back for a long moment. Then, licking his lip, wrote our order on his pad and hurried away.
I sipped my drink. Very nice, indeed. I looked around and tried to imagine what people thought of us. An older dark woman with a young blonde one.
“Interesting,” Barbara said. “Gin and no anchovies. Were those choices old or new?”
“New. Paul didn’t eat salad and drank beer and wine.”
We enjoyed the meal and, as we walked through the restaurant, I felt people watching me. I held my head high, flicked my hair and walked steadily out to the elevators. Paul used to openly stare at attractive women and assumed that they liked it. Part of me admitted that I liked being the centre of attention.
Barbara led the way and we browsed the exclusive and not so exclusive stores all afternoon. Shopping used to bore me and I would avoid it at all costs but, today, I loved every minute of it.
At one store, Barbara wryly commented, “With you around, I never have to wait for service.” I watched as the store male assistants hurried around the store, fulfilling my requests. She was right, I didn’t have to wait any where, I was always approached and helped.
We returned to the hotel in a cab and the doorman watched my legs while he held the door open so I could emerge. I smiled at him, thanked him and he hurried to help with our packages.
I collapsed on my bed and kicked my shoes off. Barbara opened the adjoining door and came through in her stockinged feet with a glass of champagne.
“Mm,” I said as I sipped it, the bubbles dancing to my nose.
“I’ve got tickets for the ‘Phantom’. Still want to go?”
“Yes, of course. Would love to.”
“Have you seen it?”
“I think so.”
“Think so?” She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve either seen in or you haven’t.”
“I know. I think Paul went but he never paid attention to it.”
“You really see yourself as a different person. Different from Paul, I mean. That’s good,” she added quietly. “Okay, let’s relax, get dressed and get a cab about seven fifteen. I’m sure the doorman will find one for us if you ask.” I blushed but she was right, he would.
The bathroom in the hotel room was luxurious. I used the supplied bath salts and I soaked in the bubbles for ages, sipping the champagne. It was wonderful.
Wrapping a huge towel around me, and another around my hair, I watched television while I carefully painted my fingernails and my toes nails and deep red to match the lipstick I planned to wear. I styled my hair differently, curling it so it framed my face and fell over my shoulders and experimented with some of Helen’s ideas.
Black lace bra, matching panties and garter belt with silky black stockings under a simple black dress with scalloped neck and long sleeves. My shoes were patent black stiletto heels. The nights were warm so I didn’t even consider a wrap. I had found gold ear-rings and matching gold necklace chain and bracelet in the  GRL boxes as well as a small black evening bag. All of this compliments of the late Doctor Winston who had definitely thought of everything.
As I clinically examined my appearance in the mirror,  I knew I looked good and that gave me satisfaction. I knew I should have fought these feelings and ideas that kept popping into my mind but this body had overwhelmed me and, in a moment of brutal honesty, I knew I was enjoying being a woman. However, the idea of sex with a man frightened the hell out of me but, at the same time, attracted me.
Barbara swung the door open and posed in the doorway. She was in a red dress that came below the knee and looked fantastic against her dark skin. Her hair was tightly pushed back into a sleek bun and lovely small hoop ear-rings.
“Senorita,” I said. “You look gorgeous.”
“If I look gorgeous,” she said as she walked around me, looking me up and down, “you are drop dead beautiful, girl. How did you do that?” she said in wonderment.
“I don’t know,” I said softly. 
She glanced at my eyes and quickly hugged me and kissed me lightly on the cheek, her perfume enveloping me.
“Mm,” she said as her lips grazed my neck causing me to tingle, “what’s that perfume, White Linen?” She took my hand and opened the door. “You know,” she said, laughing, “I feel so gorgeous, I’m going to ask the doorman for a cab. And, girl, I just know he’s going to get us one.” She did and he did.
‘The Phantom of the Opera’ was wonderful. I sat enraptured through the entire performance, hanging on every song and allowing myself to be swept up into the musical melodrama. There were times when I had a tear or two in my eyes but I enjoyed the whole production.
We had a light supper at a restaurant near the theatre and we chatted about all aspects of the production. Several guys tried to join us but we politely declined. To one group, Barbara said, “Girls night out,” as an explanation, giving me a sly eye as she said it. 
Slightly tipsy, I opened the door to my hotel room, slammed it behind me and sat heavily on the bed. The shared door opened and Barbara waltzed in with two glasses of champagne. “A nightcap,” she said, smiling sweetly, sitting on the bed next to me.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have taken the glass as I was feeling light headed but I did. “What a great night,” sighed Barbara, sipping from her glass.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Wonderful.”
Barbara put her glass down onto the bedside table and slowly turned to me. “So are you,” she breathed softly, moving close and lightly stroking my cheek.
I tingled to her touch and lowered my glass to the floor before I spilt it. When I turned around she was closer. “Barbara,” I said weakly.
“What, sweetie?” she said, brushing my hair lightly.
“I don’t know if…”
“Yes, you do,” she whispered and kissed me. The soft touch of her lips against mine rippled through me and left me searching for breath. She kissed me again. This time, I returned the kiss, our bodies pulling close and we held each other tightly as our lips fused together.
As if from a distance, I felt her pull the zipper of my dress down and, then, her fingers roamed across my bare shoulders. “I’ve got to see you, honey,” she said throatily, pulling me to my feet.
I felt breathlessly and wonderfully helpless as she gently slipped my dress down, leaving me standing in bra, panties, garter belt, stockings and heels. “Worth the wait,” she breathed, slipping her own dress off and I gasped at her in her red underwear.
“Barbara,” I whispered….
“Sh honey,” she lightly touched my lips with her finger. “I’m going to show you how all this works,” she said as she brought her fingers over my panties.
I felt like I have never felt before, my body alive and thriving on each different sensation. My pussy felt warm and a rush of wetness told me my female sex drive had just kicked in.
My breasts fell free as Barbara deftly unhooked my bra and slipped it off. I felt her lips close on my nipples and I went weak at the knees as her fingers worked inside my panties. “Oh baby,” she whispered, “you’re so wet.” She flicked my clitoris and I fell back onto the bed, holding her tight as I toppled.
“Oh God,” I moaned. “Is it always like this?”
“I think you’re getting the supercharged version. Been a bit of a wait, sweetie.”
I felt my panties being pulled off and my legs spread. Barbara smiled at me as she hovered over my pussy. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” she whispered. Her tongue languidly slid over my inner thighs, tasting my outer lips and teasing my clitoris until finally settling on it in long feather like strokes.
Wave upon wave of sensation took me from plateau to plateau until it all broke through me. Dimly, I heard a female voice in heat moaning louder and louder as she orgasmed. Suddenly, a part of me realised it was me.
Spent, I lay wantonly on the bed, watching Barbara through languid eyes. She kissed me on the lips and I tasted me for the first time. “Nothing like it, is there sweetie?” she whispered. Dumbly, I slowly shook my head. Barbara stood and smiled down at me. “What a picture,” she whispered. “Good thing about us girls, sweetie,” she said, “is we don’t have to wait. That was only the first course.” She disappeared into her room and, a few moments late emerged naked except for a strap on dildo. It obscenely gleamed pinkly against her black skin. I tried to say something as she knelt on the bed beside me but she kissed me deeply and I closed my eyes as waves of pleasure swept over me.
I opened them to find the pink cock swaying in front of me. “Suck it, baby,” she throatily urged. “Get it wet for me so I can pop your cherry. Come on, you know you want to,” she urged, thrusting it forward.
Tentatively, I touched it and circled my fingers and thumb around its base. My tongue, of its own accord flicked it and quickly I started to suck it with complete wanton abandon. I looked up at Barbara as I sucked it and saw her looking down at me with a triumphant look on her beautiful face. “You’re mine, baby,” she breathed. “Aren’t you?” I nodded and continued to suck, noticing the end of the fake cock was covering Barbara’s clitoris so she was really getting off on this.
Without a moment’s hesitation, without a thought of male ego or anything else, I submitted to her and gave her total control. In fact, I wanted to!
“Oh, baby,” she moaned as I sucked and stroked, purposefully moving the cock against her to give her pleasure. Even though, I just orgasmed moments ago, I knew I wanted to again. “Suck it, my little slut,” she murmured and I did.
Suddenly, she pulled away and gestured for me to lay back so I did. Hovering over me, that pink cock jutting forward, she smiled down. “You want it?”
Mutely, I nodded. “Say it,” she demanded.
“I want it,” I whispered.
“Tell me to fuck you.”
“Please,” I whispered, a tear rolling from one eye. “Please fuck me.”
I felt it push against my pussy and I automatically raised my legs. In one push, I felt it slide into my wet pussy, pause and then push forward with a sharp jolt of pain.
Barbara held me, our breasts mashing together. ”Baby,” she whispered. “Did  I hurt you?”
I shook my head, my hair rustling, and I felt our breasts joined together. I felt so, so, full as she laid on me, supported by her elbows, wanting her to push but she didn’t.
Cheekily, I smiled up at her sweating face. “Well, Doctor Munro, do you do this with all your patients?”
“Only those that are as beautiful as you,” she moaned as she started thrusting. 
What a photograph  we would have made, sweaty black on sweaty white skin, kissing wildly as the tempo increased and both oblivious to the other but, somehow joined together in the one rhythm. We reached the level together and wave upon wave washed over me as I screamed loudly in pleasure while Barbara moaned in her orgasmic delight.
The city lights bathed the hotel room as we lay in each other’s arms for sometime until Barbara disentangled herself, kissed me gently and stood by the bed. “Goodbye, baby,” she said brokenly. “”Another time things might have been different.”
“What’s that?” I said sleepily.
“Nothing,” she said, kissing me on the cheek and covering me. “Goodnight.”

This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy scenes of graphic sexual activity.
   Please, if you are under the age of 18, or if you will be offended by such material, use your intelligence and read no further - delete file.  Otherwise ....enjoy!  

Distribute freely if you wish but, please, not to minors

A Matter of Design.

by Nessus



 (Part 10)             

I had a sublime sleep. Stretching out in the bed, I curled my toes and yawned. Sunlight streamed through the curtains and flooded the room. Remembering  last night, I glanced at our mutual door and saw it was closed. Barbara must have moved back into her room during the night in case I regretted what had happened. I smiled. I didn’t regret a thing.
As I used the bathroom, I realised my vagina was tender and there was a smear of blood on my inner thighs. I guess I was, technically, no longer a virgin.
It was obvious I was dressing for my lover, short blue skirt, white blouse, blue stockings, garter belt and sheer white panties and bra. After taking time to make up my face and brush my hair, I walked to the door that joined our rooms and knocked.
There was no answer so I gently opened the door. Sunlight streamed into the room, the bed hadn’t been slept in and all of Barbara’s things were gone. On the small table, a single red rose sat in a small vase next to a white envelope with ‘Lucy’ scrawled on it.
Trembling, I opened the envelope and withdrew a small card which said, ‘I’m sorry’.
Puzzled, I went back into my room and sat down, trying to think this through. Was Barbara upset at what we had done? Where was she? Why didn’t she stay to talk it through?
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door. Thinking it was Barbara, I quickly opened it.
“Oh my god!” I gasped and reeled back in shock. 
Standing in the corridor was Paul Groves!
“Hello, Lucy,” he said. Or I said. Or, something. I sagged against the door and he supported me by my arm back to the chair, using his foot to slam the door behind him.
My heart was pounding as I watched him, me, walk to the telephone. “This is Paul Groves in room 426. We’re ready now. Yes. Thank you.” He replaced the phone and slumped in the chair opposite me.
“Who are you?” I asked softly. Adjusting my skirt, I saw his eyes glance at my legs.
“Why,” he grinned, “ isn’t it obvious? I’m Paul Groves.”
“Do you mind telling me what is going on here?” I icily demanded.
The grin became wider. “The English accent sounds great. Makes you haughty or regal or something.” That was my smile on his face but, when I was me, was it so cruel, so mocking?
“Please?” I whispered and his grin hardened.
“You are so beautiful. I watched you yesterday and couldn’t take my eyes off you.” He stopped. “Can’t you guess?” he asked and I shook my head, trying to clear it of the thousands of thoughts that were streaming through it.
Suddenly, there was a tap at the door. Paul jumped up to open it and two waiters rolled in a table covered with food and coffee. “Leave it,” Paul instructed, tipping them both. “We’ll serve ourselves.”
As the door closed behind them, he swung his chair next to the table and sat down. “Breakfast,” he announced gesturing at the food. “Come on,” he leered, “you must be hungry after last night.”
I blushed but remained where I was. He poured some juice and offered it to me but I ignored it.
Finally, he sat back and put his hands behind his head in a typical Paul Groves gesture. “Okay, okay,” he said. “you haven’t figured it out yet?” I stared at him or, was it me? I shook my head, confused. “I’m Maggie,” he said. “Maggie Winston.”
“You?” I spat. “Winston?” He nodded. “You did this to me?” I demanded and he nodded smugly. “Why? Why?” I asked brokenly.
He shrugged. “I had to. It’s not to bad, is it?” he asked and I looked away. “Come on, have some breakfast.”
“Get out,” I spat.
“What?”
“Get out of this room. Now!”
“Or what?” He stood, towering over me and sneered down. “You forget I’m the guy and you’re the girl. I’m much stronger than you, so don’t push me.”
“If you don’t get out of here,” I said grimly, “I will scream and scream until the police come and I’ll have you thrown into prison for rape!”
Groves calmly sat down and sipped his juice. “Sure, you could do that. And, sure, you could tie me up in prison for a few hours while I prove you’re nothing but a hooker!” 
“They wouldn’t believe you!”
“No? You’re the one with no identity, no records. The cops will be suspicious, you know.” He was right and that made me more furious.
“You bastard! You’re a murderer and a thief and you expect me to sit here and have breakfast with…..”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” he interrupted mildly. “Paul Groves is alive and well and good old Doctor Winston died from natural causes.”
“My money! Me. You stole me!”
He became angry. “Your money! I made that money for your father who lied to me and strung me along all those years. I had more right to that money than you ever did! ” We glared at each other for a moment and then he took a deep breath. “Look,” he said, “have some breakfast and let’s talk this through. Don’t you want to know how we can change back?” he added slyly.
“Back?” I gasped. “We can change back?” Did I want to? Even when I asked, I wasn’t completely sure I wanted to change back.”
“Orange juice?” he offered. I nodded, moved my chair closer, uncrossed and crossed my legs, noting his glance again as I did and sipped the juice.
“Well,” I asked calmly, “can we change back?” Smiling, he shook his head. “You bastard,” I said angrily but was I just a little relieved?
“Come off it,” he said. “It’s not so bad being a woman is it? Especially you. I laid memories and skills into you to make you extraordinary. If you had my mind you’d be unstoppable, a super woman.”
“Why didn’t you just switch yourself into this body?”
“I hadn’t tested all the procedures and you had to be the test. There was no one else and I was pretty pissed at you. Nothing, absolutely nothing, comes between me and my work. I jumped you into the shell,” he smiled. “It worked fine so I did a double play. I was going to jump you back into your body and I would jump into the shell. The apparatus caught fire just as we were both jumping. You stayed in the shell and I ended up in you. I guess Barbara filled you in.”
“Barbara!” I suddenly remembered. “Where’s Barbara?”
Groves sneered. “Back at work. At GRL.” He smiled at the shocked look on my face. “Doctor Munro had always wanted Doctor Winston’s job and would do anything for it including sleeping with Maggie Winston and with you, I guess.“  The sneered remained. “Yep, she’s gay. I bet you had a great time. You see, I wanted everything for that body so I raised the libido a little.”
“So, you made a lesbian!” I spat and he laughed.
“Christ no! Maggie enjoyed men although the thought of men now does put me off. Let’s face it Lucy, you do enjoy being a woman. You’re breathtakingly beautiful, incredibly healthy and with great skills.”
“Build another apparatus,” I demanded. “You could do it. You have the funds.”
“How? Paul Groves did not have the reputation as a smart man and I need assistance. No one in the scientific world  would help.”
“Pay them. Buy all the help you need!”
“I’ve got more important things I want to concentrate on. No, get used to being Lucy Paul. It could be worse,. You could be dead.”
I took a deep breath. So, I thought, that’s that. I’m a woman for the rest of my life. A slight smiled played on my lips as I stood up and stood by the window. I knew he watched me walk .
”Here’s the deal,” he continued. “The only people that know are you, me and Barbara. No one else and,” he threatened, “no one else better know. Okay?” I nodded, still watching the city and smelt coffee as he poured it. “Coffee?” I shook my head. “Oh, I forgot. Tea?” he asked smugly and I whirled around. “Yeah, I put those in there as part of building an identity, an identity I’ll give you if we can make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” I asked bitterly. ”You want me to be your sex slave?”
“Now, now. Nothing like that, although the idea is attractive. No, something else. I’ve been handling things at the corporation pretty well but there are things I need to know about people, plans. All sorts of things. Things only you know.”
“I see.” I turned and leaned against the window, arms folded. “What do I get out of it?”
He smiled and leaned back, quickly looking me up and down. “A job. An apartment that’s paid for, ready for you to move in today. And, a new identity.”
“Give me the identity now.”
“Uh uh, no can do. You do your part of the bargain first. Besides I need to get the name changed on the documents. That takes time and money.”
I had no choice. “Okay. What’s the details?”
“You work for me as my Personal Assistant.”
“You’ve got a nerve.”
“It’s a job. Do you have any idea how to get a job?”
“What happened to Alison?”
“I promoted her. She seemed pretty pissed with me but took the promotion anyway.” I smiled to myself. He was right, there are things he doesn’t know. “You work with me until I’m on top of everything, then I’ll give you the documentation for your identity and you can be on your way.”
“Money. I want money as well.”
Groves smiled cruelly. “Why should I?”
“Motivation to leave you alone. Let you get on with MY life”
He thought for a moment. “Okay. How much?” We haggled for sometime but at the end of it all I was going to be a reasonably wealthy woman. “This is the address of your new apartment,” he said as he wrote something on a card and placed it on the coffee table. “And the keys.” He tossed them with a jingle next to the card. “The hotel is paid for, as is everything else. All those clothes I picked out for ME are now yours and GRL have shipped them to your apartment. They should be hanging in your closet now. Today’s Saturday. You be at the office at eight on Monday. Are we okay with this?”
Yes,” I said. “Perfectly.”
He grinned and shook his head. “I love the accent.” Paul moved to the couch and stretched out. “You don’t like me much but, have you thought, you don’t like what YOU were?”
“Yes, I have thought about it. Doesn’t change anything.”
“You really are at home as a woman, aren’t you?” he sneered.
“To tell the truth, not completely, but I’m getting there. You?”
“Hey, I just fitted right in. What is there not to like?” Was that male bravado, I wondered? It couldn’t have been that easy I thought as I sat down on the chair next to the breakfast and poured a cup of tea. As I crossed my legs I noticed him glance at my legs and then up to my breasts.
“Yes,” I smiled, “you have fitted in, haven’t you. As a woman, did you always look at legs and tits?” I said brutally.
“No,” he said huskily, watching as I uncrossed and then crossed my legs. I knew the skirt had slipped up and the top of my stocking was visible.
“What’s the attraction?” I asked. “After all, you designed this body, didn’t you? You should know it well. Or is it the lingerie?’
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’ve still got my mind but this male body is taking me over in someway.”
“Got used to having a cock?” I quizzed, smiling as I saw the bulge in his pants.
“Got used to not having one?” He shot back.
“Perfectly, thank you,” I smiled sunnily and sipped my tea, watching him watch my legs. “Gets hard a lot, doesn’t it?” I said sweetly, enjoying his discomfort.
“Yes,” he said throatily. “Got a mind of it’s own. I didn’t realise that males were such visual creatures.”
“Oh but they are. A flash of leg.” I looked down and up again, knowing his eyes were following mine. “A peek of lace through a blouse, a tight skirt. All helps, doesn’t it?” He nodded and I laughed. “If I remember correctly, it can be embarrassing at times. Have you had sex yet?” I cruelly asked. Groves shook his head, the bulge still prominent. “I suppose you’ve become proficient in jerking off.
Groves looked at me hard and I knew the rough words in my proper accent were turning him on even more. “Look,” he said, “we’re both in the same boat. Why don’t we….?”
“Experiment?” I sweetly interrupted, sipping my tea.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think so. But I don’t mind if you jerk off while you look at my legs. After all, I have seen that cock before, although from a different angle. Would you like me to stand up and slide my skirt up?” I asked innocently.
Angrily, he jumped to his feet. “You bitch!” he snapped.
“What you made me, my dear,” I said coolly as he stormed to the door. “I’m your design.”
He paused with one hand on the doorknob. “Look Lucy,” he said, trying to calm down, “we have to be able to work together. We have to be polite and you have to remember I’m the boss. Got it?”
“Of course, you’re the boss. From Monday. Now, why don’t you go home and jerk off?”
He slammed the door hard after him.

 (Part 11)             

I stared at the door for a few moments in emotional turmoil until I burst into tears. Slumped over the table I sobbed my heart out, crying for myself and what I was and what I am now. Also for Barbara and how I had been used.
Mostly for Barbara.
Finally, the tears subsided and I unsteadily walked to the mirror, looking at my teary and messy face. After I cleaned up, I changed clothes, tearing the stockings and garter belt off angrily and thrusting them into the bag. Instead of the skirt, I chose an elegant fawn linen pants suit and cream blouse with sandals with my hair swept into a long pony-tail.
I picked up the card and the keys, looking at the address. At least it was in a good part of the city and near the beach. The suitcase had wheels so I dragged it behind me down the hallway to the elevator and down to reception. 
“Good morning, “ I smiled at the young man behind the counter.
“Checking out, mam?” he asked, trying not to openly stare at me. Could I ever get used to this?
“I believe that has been taken care of by the Groves Corporation? I was in room 426?”
He checked on his screen and smiled at me. “Yes, Ms Paul. All charged to the company. There’s a message for you as well. Here,” he said, handing me a thick envelope. “Do you need help with your bag?”
“No,” I smiled. “Thank you anyway.” I pulled the suitcase back through the lobby to an armchair and opened the envelope. Inside was a wad of twenty dollar notes and a piece of paper. ‘Thought this might come in handy’, the note said and it was signed PG.
He was right, I had no money and hadn’t even thought of it. I stuffed the money into my handbag, slung it over my shoulder and pushed through the main doors into the street, pulling the bag behind me. That bastard had no right to be thoughtful!
The doorman rushed over and took the bag from me. “Can I get you a cab, miss?”
I smiled up at him. “Thank you. That would be nice.” A shrill whistle and a cab rolled up, the doorman opening the door to place my bag in. “Thank you,” I said as I folded myself in and he shut the door.
I read the new address from the card to the driver and I settled back and watched the city crawl past. After a few moments, I was aware of the driver eyeing me in his rear-vision mirror and I smiled at him.
“Sorry,” he apologised, “I’m just trying to place you.”
“Place me? I beg your pardon?”
“You’re a movie actress, right?” I laughed. “One of those super models?” he said hopefully.
I laughed again. “Sorry, I’m nobody.”
“Aw come on. What do you do?”
“I’m a secretary,” I smiled and it was true, I realised. I was a secretary and I felt good about it.
“You’re kidding?” 
I shook my head. “Sorry.”
“Okay.” He shrugged and we drove on in silence until we pulled up in front of large apartment building about one block from the beach. 
After paying the cab driver I got out and looked up. It looked clean and was in a great location. The driver pulled the bag next to me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean for you to do that.”
“I don’t usually, lady but every now and again I make an exception.” He scratched his head. “You know, I’ve had some pretty famous ladies in my cab over the years but you are the prettiest. Hope you don’t mind me saying.”
I smiled at him. He was a rough looking man of about forty or so. “Why thank you. That’s the loveliest thing I heard.” He tipped his hat and drove off. Every now and again, I get an inner flash of reality. What is it you’re doing, the voice accuses me? You were born a male and now your accepting compliments from cab drivers!
Doing the best that I can in a very strange situation, that’s what I’m doing, I said to myself and dragged the bag to the front door. It was a secure building and I struggled with the keys to find the one that would open the security door.
Suddenly, the door opened and an elderly man in a uniform of sorts stood there. “Can I help you, miss?” he asked.
“I’m just trying to find which key opens the front door.”
“That one,” he said pointing at a strange looking key. Are you Miss Paul?” he asked suddenly and I nodded. “You’re moving in today, aren’t you. Here, let me get your bag.” He quickly pulled the bag in and I followed. “All your boxes arrived today and the removalist unpacked for you. I escorted them out of the building,” he said proudly. “So, you’re from out of town?”
“Yes,” I answered. I suppose it was partially true.
“You’ll find this a friendly building. My name is Victor and I’m the building supervisor. I live in apartment 3C so anytime you have a problem, please come down and see me. Now,” he said leading the way to the elevators, “you’re in 7B. Nice apartment. Two bedrooms and a view of the ocean.”
I realised I wasn’t going be able to get a word in with Victor so I just nodded and followed him into the elevator. A young man followed us in and smiled at me. Victor ploughed on. “Neil,” he said,” this is Ms Paul who’s moving into 7B.” Neil nodded at me and I smiled up at him. He was tall with light brown hair and a tanned complexion. By the way he was dressed, he had just come from a run on the beach. Victor continued while Neil and I smiled at each other. “Ms Paul has transferred in from out of town to work for the Groves Corporation. Neil has just graduated as an architect and is working for a local firm designing beach houses. Got that one on the bluff  built yet, Neil?” Neil shook his head, smiling at me. He had a lovely smile and I suddenly realised I found him attractive. It was a shock and I suddenly felt very sick.
“Are you all right?” Neil interrupted Victor as I leaned against the elevator wall. He had an Australian accent.
I stood up and smiled weakly. “Yes, I’m fine thank you. I’ve been travelling for sometime. I suppose I’m tired.”
“Hey,” said Victor, “you’re from England, right?“ I nodded and the elevator doors opened at the fifth floor.
“This is my floor,” Neil said. “I’m in 5D. If you need help moving boxes, furniture  or something, give me a call. Glad to help.”
“Thank you.”
He turned to go and then turned back while Victor held the doors open. “Do you mind telling me your name? First one I mean.”
“Not at all. It’s Lucy.”
“Lucy or Lucille?’
“I prefer Lucy.” 
“Nice to meet you, Lucy.” He smiled, walked into the corridor and watched me until the doors slid shut.
“He’s a nice young man, Ms Paul,” Victor said.
“Please call me Lucy,” I said, happy to get a word in.
The apartment was wonderful. All the walls were painted white and the floors were polished hardwood. Just the sort of place Paul Groves would have hated and I loved it. A print of a Mediterranean court-yard scene hung over the  cane sofa and sliding doors led to a small balcony that over looked the ocean. Paul Groves must really need me, I thought. This must have cost a packet. 
Sliding the doors open, I stood on the balcony and breathed the ocean. It was a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky and the water looked marvellous. 
Really, I thought to myself, life is not too awful.
Smiling, I went in to unpack and to explore my new home.

 (Part 12)             

All my clothes had been hung in the closets and the kitchen cupboards and the refrigerator were full of food. They, the Groves Corporation, had thought of everything.
I changed into running shorts, a loose top and Nike runners. I pulled my hair into a pony tail and threaded it through the hole at the back of my cap. Sunglasses on and I headed down to the lobby.
Running along the beach was fantastic. I felt my muscles stretch as I paced through the soft waves and powered down the sand. I really needed this, this exercise. Somehow, it fed me, kept me going, kept me alive.
Stopping at the breakwater, I bent over to regain my breath. Every muscle in my body was alive and I felt great as I strolled along the waters edge towards the apartment.
Back in my apartment, I opened the pantry and surveyed the contents. “Now, “ I said, tossing my cap on the bench. “Let’s see what kind of cook I am.” Paul Groves hated to cook but now, Lucy Paul enjoyed it and, with the assistance of the memories and skills laid down by Winston, I was a good cook.
I took the small plate of pasta and a green salad to the small table on the balcony and enjoyed my lunch there. A sea breeze ruffled my hair and, I must admit, I felt happier than I had for a while. Was I happy with my life? I could honestly say I was definitely happier as Lucy than I was as Paul. Paul’s life had been narrow and, I could see now, insular. But I didn’t know what would make me happy as a woman. Was it a meaningful career? Good friends? A good man and children? Strangely, the thought of me and a man no longer made me ill. In fact, an image of Neil’s smile flashed before me and a strange warmth spread through me. This body, this female body, was taking over.
Suddenly, the phone started ringing and I dashed inside to answer it. First I had to find it. Thankfully, it kept ringing until I found the cordless phone on the bed-side table next to the large bed in my bedroom.
“Hello?” I said. My new voice sounded strange in the phone.
“Lucy, don’t hang up. It’s me, Barbara.”  Images of last night and her dark eyes.
“What do you want?” I said coldly. “How did you get this number?” As a matter of fact, I wondered what the number was. 
“I got it from Paul. Lucy, “ she said hoarsely. “I’m so sorry I lied to you.”
“I believe  you got what you wanted,” I snapped.
“That prick!” she said. “Yes, “ she rushed on, “I did but I didn’t plan for us to be…”
“I thought we had become friends?” I brutally interrupted.
“We did. We are! Oh Lucy, I’m so sorry.” There was a muffled noise and I realised she was crying.
I sat in silence, listening to her tears and felt sorry for her. The old Paul, and possibly the new one as well, would have sworn at Barbara, slammed the phone down and carried a grudge for life. Now, I realised that close friends were important.
“Barbara,” I said softly.
“What?” she sniffled.
“I’m not angry with you any more.”
“Oh Lucy,” she said and promptly burst into tears again with a loud sobbing. Soothing her over the phone, I got her to at least stop sobbing.
“Barbara, it’s okay. We’re still friends. I think I understand why you did it but you did hurt me.”
“I know, I know,” she wailed and I thought she was going to start sobbing again so I quickly ran on.
”But friends are important and, at this stage in my life, I need a good friend and that’s you.”
“You’re my only real friend, Lucy,” Barbara sniffled. “Can we talk sometime?”
“Of course. Sometime soon.”
“Okay,” she snuffled and I heard her blow her nose. “Lucy?” she said after a moment.
“What?”
“Thanks.” And she hung up.
As I put the used crockery and utensils in the dishwasher, I thought back over what Barbara had said. I was her only friend? Well, she was certainly my only close friend. Very close. I smiled as I remembered last night. 
I freshened up with a shower and dressed in jeans, a blue and white striped sleeveless top and pink loafers. Slumped on the sofa, I flicked through the TV channels in an attempt to find something to watch. The sports programs didn’t hold the interest they used to and I found myself enjoying an old Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn movie, ‘Desk set’ followed by a repeat of ‘The American President’ with Michael Douglas. Michael J. Fox was as cute as ever. Restless, I freshened my make-up, brushed my hair, slung the strap to my bag over my shoulder and took the elevator down to the lobby. For about half and hour, I wandered around the beach area watching the families pack up for the day and the young lovers walking hand in hand by the water. I think I felt envious of them all.
“Hi,” a deep voice said and Neil smiled at me, a little nervously. What’s he got to be nervous about, I wondered. “Remember me?” he said.
“Of course,” I smiled. “You’re Neil the architect.”
His smiled deepened and he sounded relieved. “I didn’t want you to think I’m some kind of nut. Although,“ he added, “you’re probably used to it.”
I laughed. “Used to nuts? Whatever do you mean?”
“No, no,” he quickly said. “That’s not what I meant. I mean someone like you, as beautiful as you, is probably used to strange men trying to start a conversation.” I looked at him quizzically. “Ah shit, “he muttered. “I’m digging a deeper hole, aren’t I?”
I giggled. “Walk back with me?” I asked and he quickly moved next to me as I started walking back to the apartment. After a moment, I looked up at him as the sea breeze moved his hair across his forehead. “I love walking on the beach, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yeah, I usually run on the beach in the morning. It’s great.”
“How long have you been in the States?” I asked.
“’Bout two months. I’ve only got another four months on my visa. I came here for some international experience after I graduated. My father had some contacts here, arranged a job for me. It’s been great. Is this your first time?” 
“No. But I’m seeing it differently this time,” I said truthfully as we paused at the front door to the building. 
Neil fumbled for his keys, then stopped and turned back. “Look,” he rushed out, “I know it’s early, I mean a girl like you probably eats late but, I was wondering,” he stumbled. “There’s a good little Italian restaurant around the corner. Cheap but good food. I mean, if you’re not got plans, if…”
“That sounds wonderful,” I said, putting him out of his misery. “Dutch treat, though, okay?”
“Sure,” he said happily, taking my arm and escorting me back down the steps. The touch of his fingers on my bare skin made me tingle and I looked up at his deep eyes and full lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. And that thought no longer seemed strange to me.
We ate cheap pasta, drank cheap wine and talked for hours. Neil talked about Australia and his home in Melbourne, why he wanted to be an architect, his family and his dreams. Me? I listened. And avoided questions about England with a smile and a question abut him. It never failed. Men are so focused on themselves, even nice ones.
We split the bill, walked slowly back and took the elevator to my floor as Neil insisted on coming up.
“Goodnight”, I said and he appeared nervous. He wants to kiss me, I realised and, suddenly, I was very frightened.
“Lucy,” he stammered, “Tomorrow’s Sunday. Would you like to, if you’re not busy, go for a drive or something. It’s okay if you’ve got plans or something,” he stumbled on and it hit me like a sledge hammer. He was asking me out! A date!
“I don’t want to be out late as I have a lot to prepare for my first day on the job,” I rushed, suddenly very nervous.
“That’s okay,” he said red faced. “It was a silly idea, I know.”  My god, I thought, he thinks I’ve said no. Well, I asked myself, do I want to say no?
I decided I didn’t. “As long as we’re back by say, three?”
His face shone. “You mean it?” I smiled and nodded. “I’ll come by about eleven?” the smile faded again. “Lucy, I don’t have a sports car or something, just a pick-up.” 
“I don’t care what sort of car it is, Neil,” I said softly and looked up into those big brown eyes. “I’ll wear something casual, okay?”  he nodded slowly, looking like he had been struck dumb and, On an impulse, I stood on my toes and lightly kissed him on the cheek. My lips touched his warm, male face and tasted of him mixed with salt from the sea. Quickly, I unlocked my door and darted inside. He was still standing in the corridor, gently touching his cheek when I slowly started to close the door. “Goodnight, Neil,” I said and he smiled.
I leaned back against the closed door and hugged myself. What a day.
 

(Part 13)             

The first question of a new day, perhaps, a special day, was - what do I wear? For nearly two hours I sorted through the closet after my shower, trying this and that on until I made my choice. It was a short sleeved, knee length, white dress, buttoned down the front, with a flared skirt with pockets, cloth belt, pockets over my breasts and epaulettes. I wore white bra and panties and white sandals with no hose or socks.
I spent sometime on my face and left my hair out, cascading down my shoulders and around my face so it looked naturally casual but took a lot of time to get it right. After spraying myself with some perfume, I twirled in front of the mirror and watched the skirt flare out. Not bad, I thought critically, not to shabby.
The doorbell rang and fear swept over me. My god, I screamed inside, I’m going on a date. Nervously, I opened the door but was disappointed to see Victor standing there.
“Good morning miss, “he beamed. “This was dropped off for you a few moments ago,” he said, handing me an envelope.
“Thank you, Victor,” I smiled, closing the door. It was a note from the Groves Corporation advising me I would be picked up from outside my apartment at seven thirty tomorrow morning. Now, that’s service, I thought.
Nervously, I paced and looked at the clock on the microwave oven. Only ten forty five. What am I doing, I asked myself.
I ran into the bedroom, pulled Barbara’s card from my purse and dialled the number.
“Hello?” her familiar voice sounded sleepy.
“Barbara, it’s me,” I said urgently.
“Lucy?” she said, immediately awake. “that you?”
“Barbara, “I wailed. “I’m waiting to go on a date. A date!” I almost screamed.
“Honey,” she soothed. “Relax. What’s he like?” In a rush, I told her about Neil, how we met and what he did. “He sounds just fine,” she said. “Go and have a nice time. And relax.”
“But, what if, he..”
“Wants to have sex?” she said. “Girl, guys want to have sex all of the time. You should know that.” I slumped on the bed. She was right.
“But,” I whispered, “it’s not the same.”
“I know that, honey. Look, Lucy,” she said, all business like, “do you want to fuck the guy?”
I was shocked. “No! Well, I’m not sure.”
Barbara laughed. “Lucy, you are a woman. Get to know him first and do what ever comes naturally. But, it’s your call. Okay?”
“Yes,” I said meekly.
“Now,” she said slyly, “is he good looking? A handsome bad man?”
“Yes, he is. A wonderful smile and eyes that are so deep.”
“Sure. And what about what’s in his pants. Had a look at that?”
“Barbara!” I exclaimed.
“Lucy,” she said and I could imagine her smiling. “You are one powerful beautiful woman. Do what feels right but always remember one thing.”
“What?”
“Practice safe sex.”
“Barbara!”
She laughed. “I mean it, girl. Enjoy yourself.” The line went dead and I stared at the phone.
The front door bell sounded again and butterflies did a dance in my stomach. 
Smoothing my dress down, I walked into the main room. It was right on eleven. The doorbell sounded again and I called out. “Just a minute.” Nervously, I checked my face, hair and handbag. Then, taking a deep breath, I smiled and opened the door.
“Hello Neil,” I said gaily. The forced smile on his face melted away and his mouth dropped open. “Neil,” I said, concerned, “Neil, are you okay?”
He coughed and cleared his throat. “Lucy,” he said hoarsely. “You look fantastic. Beautiful.”
Warmth ran through me and I wondered if my panties were moist. “Thank you, Neil,” I said looking him up and down.  He was in tight white jeans, a blue open neck shirt and boots. Very masculine and very, very sexy. And, I sent a mental message to Barbara, there was a bulge!
We stood there for a moment in an awkward silence.
“Okay,” he said, gathering himself, “Ready?” I nodded and we walked to the elevators and out of the building.
His red and white pick-up sat in the street and he opened the door for me. I gathered my skirt and slid in, noticing he had a quick look at my legs. The cabin smelt of Neil and things masculine. Rolled up plans were stuck behind the seats.
“I cleaned it up,” he said apologetically as he slid in, his knee brushing against mine, “but, it’s probably not what you’re used to.”
“Neil,” I said firmly. “Will you please stop apologising. There is no need.”
He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked glum. “I’m sorry. It’s just, that, I keep feeling I’m out of my class or something. Your accent I suppose and, of course,” he said blushing, “the way you look.”
“They way I look?” I asked coyly. I listened to myself aghast, I was acting like a schoolgirl on her first date. Well, I admitted to myself, this was my first date as a woman.
“Your beautiful, Lucy,” he rushed out. “I want to pinch myself when I see you sitting in this cab with me.”
I smiled at him and rested my hand lightly on his forearm, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Neil,” I said, “relax and be yourself. I wanted to come. I looked forward to it.”
He smiled, started the pick up and we drove along the coast. Soon, the road was twisting and turning with the coastline and we had magnificent views of the ocean below, the city behind us. I realised that I had driven down this very road a life ago on my visit to GRL. 
Neil didn’t say much but I managed to get him talking about Australia. It was obvious he was a little homesick. We turned off onto a side road. The pick-up climbed up a dirt road to a hill, a trail of dusting blowing behind us and stopped overlooking the ocean. 
“Here we are,” Neil said, turning off the engine.
I looked around and saw, for the first time, the framework of a house. “Is that yours?” I said, looking at the partly built house.
Neil smiled excitedly. “Yes, my first. Here, I’ll show you.” He jumped from the cabin and held the door open for so I could slide out. The wind from the ocean rustled my skirt around me as I took in the view. The blue Pacific was rolling in to a small beach below us and a small boat chugged out to sea, disappearing into the haze on the horizon.
“This is beautiful,” I said. “Absolutely beautiful.”
He stood close. “Absolutely.” I turned to smile at him and noticed he was staring at me. He blushed. “This is my favourite spot.” He turned to the house. “The owner asked the firm to design this beach house. I got the job because no one else wanted to drive out here all the time. I’m glad I did, otherwise I would never have found this spot. Would you like to see it?” I nodded, smiling at his obvious enthusiasm and he helped me up into the skeleton, my heart surging when he held my hand. Room by room, he took me through the house, still holding my hand. I didn’t know how to gracefully move my hand from his grasp and, strangely, I don’t think I wanted to.
“What do you think?” he asked at the completion of the tour of the little house.
I looked up into his eyes and saw he was desperate for my approval. “Wonderful,” I said softly. “It’s a dream hideaway.”
“Yes, it is. I’d love to live here myself,” he said.
“Wouldn’t it be lonely?” I teased.
“Not with the right person,” he said, staring at me. “Hungry?” he asked after a moment.
“Yes, I guess I am,” I said surprised. 
He helped me down from the building and we walked to the truck. Neil pulled a large box from the back. “I picked up some bread rolls, cold cuts and a few other things. Thought we’d picnic here. That is,” he added hurriedly, “if you don’t mind.”
“That’s a great idea.”
Neil even had a rug and laid it out near the cliff edge so we could look out of the sea. We talked and laughed while we ate, enjoying the sun and each other’s company.
“Lucy, “ Neil said suddenly, “do you have a steady guy?” Surprised, I froze while pouring some juice into a paper cup and Neil immediately apologised. “Lucy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”
“Why not?” I laughed. “No, I don’t. Do you have a steady girl?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t find it easy to approach girls.”
“You approached me.”
“Yeah,” he said ruefully. “I paced up and down my apartment all afternoon, trying to screw up courage to knock on your door. Other guys would’ve just gone on up and knocked. When I saw you on the beach from my balcony, I knew I had one chance so I ran down.”
“You shouldn’t be shy, Neil. You have a lot to offer.”
A wry smile crossed his face. “I’m not much of a conversationalist with girls. And I’m not the coolest guy around, I’m a bit conservative.”
”You have no trouble talking now,” I pointed out. “And I wouldn’t say conservative, I’d say polite and charming. Those are all good things.” I smiled at him and we sat in comfortable silence, watching the waves.
We packed up the box, loaded it into the pick-up and back into the city as Neil had promised to get me back by three. I wondered why I picked such an absurd time but it was too late to change.
Once again, he insisted on escorting me to my door but this time we walked hand in hand. I looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Neil, I had a wonderful time. Thank you,” I said and waited. 
“Uh, that’s okay,” he said nervously.
I made up my mind. “Neil,” I whispered, “do you want to kiss me?” I moved closer and he wrapped me in his strong arms, holding me tight as his mouth moved towards mine. A little voice inside my head wondered what this would be like.
We kissed. I folded my arms around his shoulders and held him as our lips met. It was like no other kiss I had experienced as a man. Warmth exploded through me and I knew I was wet. I kissed him again and pulled him tighter. That’s when I felt his hardness pushing into my belly. My god, I thought, he’s got an erection! Kissing me has gotten him hard! I was pleased, flattered and terrified.
Gasping for breath, I pushed him back a little, smiling coyly at him. ”I thought you weren’t good with girls?”
I could see he was trembling and probably embarrassed by the bulge in his tight jeans so I made sure I didn’t look down when I pulled back.
“Lucy,” he stammered as I opened the door, “Can we go out again. Maybe a movie or something.”
“Call me,” I smiled and shut the door behind me. 
I rang Barbara and told her all about it and went about my chores and preparations for the next day. After I cooked a light meal and watched TV, I went to bed. For the first time in Lucy’s life, I masturbated, imagining Neil’s cock sliding into me as I fingered myself to an explosive orgasm. Life was good. Life wasn’t this full as a man.

 (Part 14)             

The Grove limousine arrived right on time and the driver held the door open as I slid inside. I had worn a dark grey coat and skirt with cream blouse, charcoal pantyhose and black shoes. Ear rings, gold  chain necklace and a small bracelet completed the picture. As the car sped into town, I opened my bag and checked my face in my mirror. I had brushed my hair back over my shoulders and kept my make up to a very business like appearance.
The driver’s name was Robert and didn’t speak at all until I leaned forward. “Robert, is this a special welcome to the Groves Corporation?”
He looked at me in the rear-vision mirror. “I have instructions to pick you up and take you home every day, madam.”
I leaned back. Every day? Is Groves being thoughtful and caring or is he worried about something? I would bet on the later. Tarnish his reputation? Not go through with the arrangement? Well, he can relax, I gave my word and I’ll follow through.
The car pulled up at the building and Robert held the door open for me, surreptitiously watching my legs as I slid out. I stood on the pavement and stared up at the tall building, feeling apprehensive. Well, I thought, no one knows but Paul, Barbara and me.
“Excuse me Mam,” Robert interrupted my thoughts. “The security card at the desk will arrange your pass.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you, Robert.”
He handed me a card with a car phone number on it. “Call me when you want to go, Ms Paul,” he said, touching his cap.
The young security guard scrambled to his feet when I approached the desk. “Ms Paul?” he asked.
“How did you know?” I smiled.
“Oh, your description,” he stammered. 
“What’s your name?” I asked the young man.
“My name?” he said, stunned. “It’s Scot Hanson.”
I extended my hand. “I’m Lucy, Scot. Nice to meet you.” Stunned, he briefly took my hand. “We’ll be seeing each other every day, Scot,” I explained. “Silly not to know our names, isn’t it?” I smiled sweetly.
“Yes,” he mumbled. He led me to a small room where a photograph was taken and, in a short time, he handed  me my staff ID with a chain attached.
I placed the chain around my neck, thanked Scot and walked to the elevators, knowing he was watching me walk away. Soon, I was standing at Alison’s desk, my desk, outside of the two oak paneled entry doors to Groves office. Right, I steeled myself, this it. 
Pushing the doors open, I saw Groves seated at what was once my old desk. I fought the feeling of anxiety, anger and confusion that flowed through me. I have to be strong, I said to myself, I can not, must not, cry!
He looked up. “Good morning, Mr Groves,” I said as calmly as I could.
I could see he relaxed when he heard that. “Good morning Ms Paul,” he said formally. “Welcome to Groves Corporation.” I shut the door behind me and stood in front of his desk. “Please read this,” he said as he handed me a folder. “It is a precis of your career which Personnel have on record. You are English, from Surrey with an Irish mother and American father. Parents divorced. Your last position was in London with British Petroleum where you were the Executive Assistant to the Managing Director of Research.” I raised an eyebrow at that and he smiled thinly. “I was going to get my doctorate in England and I’ve had to modify the records. You were head hunted for this position by Colson Recruiting who were selected by Personnel on my instructions. You have a residential permit because of your American father who, incidentally, is dead. Your mother, Edith is still alive. “ I looked up. “She’s not real, Lucy,” he snapped. “Please concentrate.”
“I think I’ve absorbed enough. I’ll memorise the rest tonight. You have been busy.”
“I’m a very methodical person.”
“What do you want me to do now?”
“Go through my schedule, check the e-mails and brief me on anything or anyone when you think I should know.”
“Use the computer?” I asked. Paul Groves had no idea how to use a computer or the internet.
Groves smiled thinly. “You have excellent computer skills. It’s in your design as well as an excellent attention to detail. I was going to do my doctorate, remember and I was going to be brilliant. I thought of everything.”
“Very good then. Anything else?” I held the folder close to me and waited.
He leaned back in the chair. “Is there anything I should know?”
“Nothing that springs to mind. Wait a minute,” I smiled, “ you might be interested to know why Alison is so angry with you.”
He leaned forward. “Yes?”
“Apparently, you tried to fire her when she wouldn’t suck your cock. Despicable man,” I smiled.
Groves surprised me because he smiled as well, leaning back, arms folded behind his head. “Yes, I can certainly see why I would do that. Now, how about some coffee?”
“Certainly, Mr Groves,” I said, spun on my heel, and walked out, closing the door behind me.
Do not get angry, I said to myself as I tossed the folder on the desk. Do the job, serve your time, get the identity and get out. Looking down, I saw my staff identification resting on my breasts and smiled. The building of my identity had just started.
“Hi, you must be Lucy Paul.” I looked up, saw Alison smiling warmly at me and I nodded. “I’m Alison Jones,” she said. “I used to do this job so I thought I would stop by and see if I can help you settle in.”
I smiled gratefully at her. ”That’s very kind, Alison,” I said and we both sat.
“So, “ she gestured at the door. “Is he in?”
“Yes. Oh God,” I exclaimed. “Coffee.” 
Alison laughed. “Let me show you.” She led the way to a small cupboard and showed me how to fill the percolator. “You’ve met him before, haven’t you?” she asked and I wildly thought through the information Groves had given me. 
I shook my head. “No, that was the first time. I was interviewed by Colson Recruiting. I knew what Mr Groves looked like from newspaper photographs but that was all.” 
She looked at me strangely. “So, what was his reaction when he saw you?”
“Fine,” I said. “Directive but courteous. Why?”
“I thought he may have done a back flip when you walked it. You’re the answer to his dreams. Lucy, Paul Groves was a real sleaze.” I looked surprised. “No, I mean it. Some day, I’ll tell you the things he used to say to me and the other girls. But then,” she lowered his voice, “ a few weeks ago, he was involved in an accident.”
“A traffic accident?” I asked innocently and she shook her head.
“No, an explosion at one of our labs. He hasn’t been himself since. Everybody is worried.”
“Is he irrational?”
“No.” Alison moved closer. “Frankly, I think he’s a much better person. Much nicer.”
“Perhaps he had a near death experience and has seen the error of his ways.”
“Hmm, you know, you could be right. But I doubt it. Leopards don’t change their spots.”
I sat down at the computer and booted up. I watched in amazement as I unerringly flicked through the programs and ran down Groves schedule. Alison watched admiringly.
“Well,” she said, “I can see you know what you’re doing. I’ll leave you to it.”
I looked up and smiled. “Thank you for stopping by. It was very thoughtful.”
Alison smiled and pointed at the percolator. “Coffee’s ready.”
“Oh golly,” I exclaimed, clambering out of the chair and pouring a cup.
“Black with one,” Alison said and I smiled weakly at her. “Welcome to Groves, Lucy,” she said and pecked me on the cheek.
I waved goodbye to her as I knocked on the office doors, pushed them open and walked inside.
“Your coffee, Mr Groves,” I said, placing the cup on his desk pad.
“Thank you, Lucy,” he said absently. “My first appointment?”
“Mr Newton at eight thirty.”
“Yes,” he murmured. “Daniel Newton. He treats me like an idiot.”
“He thinks you are an idiot.”
Groves eyes flashed. “Because of you.”
I thought back. “You could be right. I didn’t pay attention. I missed so much through not reading the signals.”
“What signals?” Groves asked, puzzled.
I smiled. “Nothing. I’ll show him in when he arrives.”
I was redirecting e-mail when Newton showed up, late as usual.
“Jesus, who are you?” he demanded.
“I’m Lucy Paul. You’re Mr Newton?” He nodded and pushed past me.
“I know the way.” The doors closed behind him.
At nine, I tapped on the door and reminded Groves he had a marketing meeting at nine fifteen. Newton stared at me and then back at Groves. “You’ve got a marketing meeting?” he said incredulously.
Groves smiled coldly. “I’m going to understand this business, Daniel, with or without your help.”
“What’s got into you?” Newton said.
Groves stood up and walked to the window. “I’ve inherited a big responsibility. At first, I didn’t realise that. Now, I do.”
“Yeah, right,” sneered Newton, walking to the door. “Hey Paul,” he said. “maybe I should introduce Lucy around. Seeing you have this important meeting.” Groves waved us away and we walked to the outer office. “I’ll take you through the departments. I’m sure you’re interested,” he said, a faint sneer in his voice.
He walked on and I followed him to the elevator. “Is something wrong, Mr Newton?” I asked politely as the elevator doors slid shut.
He shook his head and then exploded. “Yes, there is damn it! What right do you think you have coming here?”
I reeled back. He knew! He has figured it out! I’m sure my face was white as I struggled to speak, although I didn’t know what to say. “I thought,” Newton went on, “that he was finally getting it together. He was acting more like his father’s son. Then you waltz in!” The doors opened and he stormed out. I had no choice but to follow. He stopped in the corridor. “So,” he sneered, “ how long have you known him, sweetheart!”
I understood in a blinding flash. He thought I was Groves latest girlfriend! “Sweetheart?” I hissed and he turned sharply. “Mr Newton,” I snapped, “I met Mr Groves for the first time this morning! Please let me assure you that I am not or ever will be his sweetheart!” He flinched at the acid tone.
“Well, I thought…” he stammered.
“Obviously, you were wrong! For the record, I was recruited by Colson Recruiting from my position in London with BP. Apparently, Personnel audited and arranged the whole process.”
“She’s right, Danny.” We both turned to see Alison leaning against a door to an office. ” And,” she added, “ I hear she’s pretty good. The best.” I blushed a little at that but I was still mad at Newton.
“I think, Mr Newton,” I said coldly, “you should provide me with an apology.” 
Alison nodded. “I think she’s right, Danny.”
Newton shuffled forward. “Ms Paul, I’m very sorry I jumped to conclusions. I’m a victim of my gender,” he said grandly. “I thought the most beautiful woman I have ever seen could not be intelligent. I was wrong! Will you accept my apologies, Ms Paul?”
“What,” I said, mockingly, “ no bow?” and Alison laughed. I had visions of Newton bowing low and kissing my hand. I smiled and extended my hand. “Apology accepted. And please, call me Lucy.”
Newton gratefully took my hand. “Please call me Danny. And, thank you. I made a terrible mistake. Now, let me show you around.”
“Perhaps not, Danny, “ I said firmly. “Don’t you think you should join that marketing meeting? I’m sure Mr Groves would welcome your trusted advice.”
Danny stared at me and then quickly looked up at the ceiling. “Yes,” he said. “You’re right. I should be there. Thank you Lucy.” As he pushed the elevator call button he turned to Alison. “Alison, could you show Lucy around?”
Alison did show me around and I met a lot of wonderful people. Obviously, a lot of them had thought I was Groves latest bimbo but with Alison’s recommendations and my own communication skills, I made some good friends.
At the end of the day, I felt I had achieved a new milestone in the life of Lucy Paul.
Groves and Danny walked out of the office. Danny said goodbye and left. Groves smiled down at me. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what?”
“For Daniel. He’s not fighting me now. He said he had a conversation with you. You obviously knew him well so you could manipulate him.”
“It wasn’t like that!” I protested.
“You’re well on your way. I’ll have your birth certificate and social security number tomorrow. Thanks again.”
I watched him leave. He had it all wrong but did it matter? He saw things his way and I knew I couldn’t’ change him. And tomorrow, I’ll have a birth certificate and, more importantly, I’ll find out how old I am.
Smiling, I picked up the phone and dialled a number. “Robert? This is Lucy. I’m ready to go when it’s convenient for you. Now? You are sweet. I’ll be right down.”

This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy scenes of graphic sexual activity.
   Please, if you are under the age of 18, or if you will be offended by such material, use your intelligence and read no further - delete file.  Otherwise ....enjoy!  

Distribute freely if you wish but, please, not to minors

A Matter of Design.

by Nessus


(Part 15)             

Robert escorted me to the door and I thanked him and let myself in. Victor rushed over with a bunch of flowers. “Lucy,” he said. “these came for you.” I took the roses and breathed them in. They were golden yellow and full of scent. “There’s a card,” he prompted and I opened it. They were from Neil with a simple note that said: ‘Thanks for yesterday.’ Victor handed me another card. “That’s his phone number,” he grinned.
I smiled back at him. “Thanks Victor.“ Impulsively, I pecked him on the cheek and he went red.
I swept upstairs and put the flowers in water. Suddenly, I wasn’t tired any longer.
The phone rang. It was Barbara and we talked about the day at the office and her day at GRL
“I got flowers today,” I said softly.
“From Neil?” she asked.
“Yes. Roses. Yellow ones with a glorious perfume.”
“Girl,” she said sharply, “have you got condoms?”
“I beg your pardon?’
“Don’t go Queen of England on me. Have you got condoms?” she demanded.
“No,” I said in a small voice.
“Get some. Now. I can almost smell how horny you are.”
“Barbara,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure.”
“Yes you are,” she said warmly, “relax and call me when it’s over.” She rang off.
I stared at the vase of yellow roses, the room heavy with their scent and dialled Neil’s number.
“Hello?”
“Neil, I want…”
“Lucy!” he exclaimed, obviously pleased to hear from me.
“Neil, thank you for the wonderful flowers.”
“Do you like them?”
“They are glorious.”
“I went to four different florists to get roses with a perfume. I guessed you would like the perfume. Do you?”
“I love it. Thank you. It’s a wonderful surprise after a long day.”
There was a pause. “Lucy, would you like to go out to eat? My treat.”
Thoughts ran through my mind but I knew I had to take the next step. Damn it, I wanted to! Needed to!
“No,” I said and I could sense his disappointment. “Let me cook for you.”
“You cook?!”
I laughed. “Don’t sound so surprised. Nothing special. Pasta and a salad. You,” I said laughingly, “can help.”
“Lucy, that sounds great. What do I bring?”
“Yourself. Maybe a bottle of wine?” And some condoms, I almost added.
“I’ll be there. When?”
“In thirty minutes?”
“See you then.”
When I walked to the bedroom to freshen up, I knew my panties were wet.
There was no doubt I knew what I was doing. Let’s be honest, I wanted to do it.
I tried to recapture the memories of my maleness but failed and I realised I just could not imagine myself as a male.
I stripped off my clothes and bundled them into the laundry basket. I rushed into the bathroom and had a quick shower, discarding my wet panties with a slight embarrassment but a lot of enthusiasm.
Deciding on a short denim skirt and a blue blouse, I agonised on the underwear and finally chose a simple black lace bra and sexy black lace thong panties. My hair was brushed back and I sprayed perfume all over me.
As I was moving pots and pans around in the kitchen, the phone rang.
“You okay?” Barbara’s voice came down the line,.
“I think so.”
“He’s on his way, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“You remember what I told you, girl.”
“I do.”
“Enjoy yourself. And…”
“What?”
“I love you, Lucy. Enjoy it.”
I replaced the phone and wiped a small tear away.
The doorbell rang and I felt a surge of panic that was quickly replaced by a comfortable feeling. This was my life and I was going to live it, dam it!
The door swung open. “Hi,” I said smiling up at him. “Come on in.”
He sheepishly waved the bottle of wine and followed me in, dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt. I pointed at the salad makings. “Start splitting the lettuce,” I said and placed the wine on the bench. It was an South Australian red I hadn’t heard of from the Clare Valley.
I made the sauce while he made the salad, happily chatting about all sorts of things while the pasta bubbled in the huge pot of the stove. There was no doubt, I had never felt as happy as I did right now.
“Is that okay?” he asked, showing the bowl. The lettuce looked like it had been pulverised and the tomato squashed but I still smiled at him. 
“That looks fine,” I lied. “Great.”
He put the knife down at looked at me strangely. “Lucy, “ he said, “I’m gonna go for it. Don’t stop me.” He shook his head slowly. “Lucy, “ he said looking steadily at me, “you are the most beautiful person I have ever met,. God knows, you look like an angel and you’re so kind. Lucy, “ he said desperately, “ I can’t help myself. When I’m with you I just want to hold you, to kiss you, to be really close.” He stopped, flushed, embarrassed and sweating.
My panties were soaked.
I smiled lazily. “God damn it,” I whispered, “I thought you weren’t good with women.”
A half smile played across his face and he reached for me.
Let me tell you, I just folded into his arms as willingly as any lamb to the slaughter, except,
I wasn’t about to get slaughtered. I think I was about to get fucked.
His lips found mine and we kissed long and deep as the pasta bubbled and his cock pushed against my soft belly. Pushing him away, I turned the stove off. “Maybe,” I said hesitantly, “ We can eat later?”
Neil wrapped his arms around me and kissed me again and, this time, his hands roamed over my bottom and to my breasts. It felt wonderful as he gently kissed my throat while hands slid under my blouse to gently touch my rock hard nipples through the bra.
My fingers gently stroked the bulge in his pants as his cock strained against the denim. “Oh Lucy,” he breathed in my ear and I could feel his heart pounding. Somehow, we made it to the cane sofa, still kissing. His fingers trembled as he unbuttoned by blouse and his eyes bulged when he saw my large breasts in the black lace. In an instant, he was kissing them and I held his head to my body.
I pushed him back and slid down to his crotch, slowly pulling his zipper down as he groaned softly. His cock strained against his red briefs with its head just peeking out above the waistband. Neil lifted himself up as I pulled his pants down, hungry to see his cock.
My fingers gently cupped his hairy balls and then lightly stroked his cock. He groaned and trembled when my thumb stroked the sensitive strip of flesh just under the head. I smiled up at him as I took his cock in my mouth, my tongue gently licking the head. It slid out of my mouth with a gentle plop and I started to slowly move my hand up and down his cock. Neil stared down at me with glassy eyes, his whole body straining. “Do you like this?” I whispered.
“Oh Lucy,” he groaned, his body shaking as his cock jumped in my hand. Cum spurted from his cock as I furiously jerked it, his body thrusting as he pumped his seed onto his belly until he was dry.
“Hm,” I smiled. “Obviously you did like it.”  I went to the bathroom and brought back a small hand towel. Gently, I wiped up the white puddle of sperm and threw it in the laundry hamper.
“Lucy,” he said, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I tried to hold back but…..It was too much.”
Kissing him softly on the cheek, I looked down at his soft cock curled on his body. “Don’t be sorry. I’m flattered. Besides, “ I said, looking into his eyes, “we have all night.” We kissed deeply. “Do you have condoms?” I asked shyly and he nodded. “You wait here for a moment and I’ll be back in a moment. Get comfortable, ”I smiled. “Really comfortable.” 
Dimming the lights, I went into my bedroom and stripped off my blouse and skirt. The bra and panties can stay, I thought, as I rummaged in my underwear drawer. A matching black lace garter belt and sheer black stockings with black stiletto heels completed the picture. I took some time with my face and hair, making sure I had a more glamorous look. Finally, I was ready and, taking a deep breath as I opened the door, I posed in the doorway. Neil was naked and his mouth fell open when he saw me. “Well,” I purred. “Do you like this?” I smiled sexily as I saw his cock stir. “Hm,” I licked my lips, “I see you do.” 
He held me in his arms in an instant, his naked chest squeezed against me. Then, he slowly kneeled and nuzzled his mouth into my soaked panties. I leaned back, softly moaning as my fingers ran through his hair. I gasped when pulled the panties aside and used his tongue.
I led him into the bedroom and I lay on the bed while he stared down at me, his cock jutting from his body. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.
In the early hours of  the morning, I stood on the balcony and listened to the waves as Neil slept in my bed. We had slowly made love, then ate the pasta naked in the kitchen, laughing and giggling and then we made love again. It had been wonderful and I felt whole, an entire person.
The wind blew my hair and I pulled the dressing gown tighter around me. Life was good and, I knew, I couldn’t ask for anything better. I looked forward to a endless life of opportunity, open to me and the talents or skills Winston had impressed in me. Neil was wonderful, helping me to accept me but he was not the love of my life and he would always hold a special place in my heart.
The waves rolled in, light coming across the sea and I suddenly realised I was happy. I was moving forward on that special journey, the journey of life.

(Part 16) EPILOGUE.

I spun on my chair and watched the lunchtime crowd on the promenade and on the beach. The windows of my office looked directly down the boulevard and it helped me think to watch the movement of people and the sea.
The door opened and Scot Hanson, my assistant, poked his head around the corner. “Paul Groves on line one, Lucy.
I nodded and picked the phone up. “Paul,” I said warmly. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. I called to wish you happy birthday. How does it feel to be twenty four or is it really one?”
“Happy Birthday right back. Has it really been a year?”
“It has. Time flies when you’re….you’re still having fun, aren’t you?”
“Of course. You?”
“It gets better and better. Congratulations on your collection. I believe the reviews have been great?”
“Yes. It’s very pleasing. And fun.”
“I also hear you have been romantically linked with a certain young up and coming senator.”
I smiled. “No comment. Groves stock is up again, I see.”
“Yes, it is going well.” He laughed. “Luckily, I can find good people to replace the ones you keep stealing.”
“I can’t help it if they enjoy the challenge of the fashion industry. Paul?”  I began hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“When you designed, you know.” I paused, uncertain.
“I gave you certain skills, attention to detail and other things but I didn’t include anything on fashion design. Me, fashion? You’ve got to be kidding, I’m a scientist. No, Lucy, your success in fashion design is all you.”
“Thank you, Paul.”
“You’re a wonderful person, Lucy and I can’t take credit for any of it.” 
Tears formed in my eyes. “Thanks, Paul. Talk to you next year.”
“Oh, I might see you before that,” h said mysteriously.
“Yes, of course. What I meant…”
“Might see you at a wedding.”
“Wedding? I’m not getting married.”
“Who said any thing about you? ‘Bye.”
I put the phone down and wiped my eyes as Scot tapped on the door and opened it. “Mail?” he called from the doorway, a folder under his arm.
“Anything interesting?’
Nothing much. Invitations, requests for interviews and, I almost forgot, a postcard from Australia.” He smiled cheekily.
“Give me that!” It was a picture of the Sydney Opera House. “It’s a girl,” I announced as Alison walked in with a pile of drawings under arm.
“What’s a girl?”
“Neil and Cheryl have had a baby girl. Oh, they’ve called her Lucy,” I said. “How nice.” Tears streamed down my face as I smiled at the postcard. Alison handed me a tissue. “They’ve moved from Melbourne to Sydney and Neil is specialising in beach houses.” I stared out the window, remembering.
“Can I interrupt you?” Alison gently asked. I nodded, wiped my eyes and walked across the polished floors to the conference table in the centre of the room. Alison laid the five drawings on the table and I scanned them critically. “That one. And that one. Not that one and this one has to be recut. I don’t like the neck line. And that one is out as well. Okay?”
Alison nodded and scooped the drawings into a pile. “Lucy, can I talk to you for a moment.” 
I searched her eyes. Of course. What is it?”
Scot poked his head in. “Doctor Munro line two.”
“I’m sorry Alison. I won’t be a moment.” Alison stepped outside as I picked the phone up. “Barbara,” I said with delight. “When did you get back?”
“Late yesterday. I’ve slept my life away just catching up.”
“How was Japan?”
“Great and educational. Hey, what’s this I hear about you and Senator Bob Wilson?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you. How about brunch tomorrow.”
“Sounds great. Oh, happy birthday, sweetie.”
“Thanks Barbara.”
Scot sent Alison straight back in when I hung up and she sat down. “Lucy,” she began straight away. “Did you know I’ve been seeing Paul Groves?”
I sat down with a thud. “No, I didn’t.”
“It’s not a secret or anything. Not like you,” she said mischievously, “and the Senator. Just didn’t get around to it.”
“When did this start?”
“Just after you left Groves to start this business.” That had been a month after I started.
“Really? I thought you thought leopards don’t change?”
“Well, he has, Lucy. Changed a lot. He’s really very sweet. You know, the first time we kissed, he….well, you know.” I looked puzzled. “Came,” she said. “In his pants.” She giggled and I laughed. Then, a serious look appeared on her face. “Lucy, he’s asked me to marry him.” She steeled herself. “And I’ve said yes.”
I leapt up and hugged her. “Congratulations,” I cried as I kissed her cheek. “Congratulations, Mrs Groves.”
“Not so fast,” she laughed. “We’re still haggling over the date.”
“Do I get an invitation?”
“Of course. From both of us but I want you be my bridesmaid as well as designing the dress.”
“I’d love to,” I squealed with excitement, hugging her again. Suddenly, I heard a baby cry. Was that a baby?” I asked, puzzled.
Alison nodded. “Scot’s wife is visiting with the new baby. He’s cute.”
I rushed out the door and found a nervous Scot and a young dark haired woman, holding a crying baby. “I’m sorry, Lucy,” Scot said. “He just started crying and Maria’s trying to calm him.”
The mother blinked nervously at me. “I’m leaving now, Ms Paul,” she said.
“Nonsense,” I said. “Please call me Lucy.” I peered down at the new infant. “And what’s his name, then?” I said softly.
“Thomas,” Scot said proudly.
I looked at Maria. “Can I hold him?” She nodded and I gently took him and held him close. “there, there, Thomas,” I whispered. “You’re with friends.” Crooning to him, I walked around the desk and he stopped crying. Together, Maria and I placed him gently in the baby carriage. We stood up and looked down at the sleeping baby. “He’s wonderful, Maria. And you,” I said, pointing at Scot, “take your wonderful wife to a special lunch. And don’t come back. Enjoy the afternoon.”
“But, Lucy, the work…” he said while Maria smiled hopefully.
“I am perfectly capable of answering my own phones. It’s Friday so start the weekend early. And that’s an order,” I added when I saw his mouth open.
He stopped and then smiled. “Yes Mam, “ he said with a mock salute.
We watched them go and walked back into my office to chat. After a few minutes, Daniel Newton walked in. “So, you’ve sent Scot home. I just met them in the corridor. He’s a proud father, isn’t he?”
“How was the east?” I asked.
“Great! Fantastic! We start shipping the new collection and we have one hundred percent acceptance.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means we are making money,” he shouted and danced around the table while Alison and I laughed.
My mobile phone rang and I fished it out of my handbag.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” His voice causes my knees to weaken. ”How are you?” His deep mellow voice caressed my ear.
“Fine. Great, actually.”
“I see you made the papers.”
“Since when do you read the fashion section?” I laughed.
“Since I fell in love with you.”
“Oh,” I said in a small voice, my heart pounding. “I read the political sections for the same reason.”
“And what reason is that?” he teased.
“You know,” I said watching Danny and Alison pretend they weren’t listening.
“Got somebody there, huh?”
“Yes. “ I turned away from my audience. “But, I do love you,” I whispered.
“Good. Still right for this boring dinner?”
“Yes, of course but, are you sure?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “Wear something special. We’ll pick you up at seven.”
I turned it off and turned back to Alison and Danny. “Well?” asked Alison with a raised eyebrow. “Was that him? When are you two going to go public.”
“Probably as long as it took you,” I answered sweetly and she blushed.
Danny turned to her. “What’s that mean?”
“I’ve got something to tell you, Danny,” she began.
I wore a long black sleeveless gown that sparkled in the light and long black gloves. The gown was low cut and I wore a gold pendant on my breasts with matching ear rings with my hair swept up. Bob looked gorgeous in his tuxedo and he whistled admiringly as he escorted me to the limousine. 
A red carpet for the official guests ran from the door of the convention centre to the gutter. Both sides were cordoned off and guards kept the onlookers, the paparazzi and the network camera crews back.
“Ready, darling?” he asked, a serious look on his boyish face.
“Are you sure, Bob?” I asked and he nodded firmly. “Well,” I said gaily, let’s meet the press.” 
The driver opened Bob’s door first and as he got out, flash guns lit up the night. Bob opened my door and I elegantly slid out to stand beside him in a hail of popping lights.
“Senator! Senator,” the paparazzi called, trying to get  the perfect shot. “Over here. Look over here.”
“Ms Paul, “ a female journalist called, “are you with the Senator tonight?” I nodded. “Did you design that gown, Ms Paul?” she called  and I smiled and nodded again.
“Senator, are you dating Ms Paul?” one called.
“Senator, are you running for President next year?” another called. Through it all, Bob and I kept smiling until our faces hurt.
“That’s it, guys,” Bob called and, taking my hand, led me up the red carpet.
“Hey, Senator. How about one for the road?”
Bob stopped on the steps and I stood next to him. “ Okay, “he said cheekily, “this is the one you want.” Suddenly, he swept his arms around me and kissed me deeply. Exploding flash bulbs lit the night like fireworks. Amidst the sound of cameras, wolf whistles and cheers, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. I even raised one foot.
That photograph appeared on the front page of every daily newspaper in every country of the world.
Life is good.

Hold me in your hand like a bunch of flowers.

End “A Matter of Design” by Nessus

 














