I am Baaack! Part 2

Good-bye, Robert! She was playing along with the frustrating slow pace, because she liked Lou and Ed and didn't want to spoil their fun. She sensed that they liked it if she appeared a little reluctant and scared, but it was hard to pretend that.

She had come across the word "shemale" on the Internet just the other day, and had immediately felt an affinity with that title. She knew that Lou and Ed were slipping her hormones, and had even checked with her doctor on the sly to make sure they would give her a respectable bustline and hips without affecting her sexually. Those two sly tricksters! She'd just play along as if she didn't know what was going on. She glanced around. No one was watching, so she reached up and let her fingertips gently brush her just recently sensitive nipples, and soon was in the throws of an intense female orgasm. She knew tonight she would experience both that, and a male orgasm. No nasty operation "down there" for her; she was gonna have the best of both worlds! .Wasn't she?

The only worry she had was her size. She was going to be a BIG girl, and, even though she thought she would be cute, she was smart enough to realize that self perception could be deceiving. What if she turned out to be an ugly girl, an unpassable girl? She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, took another admiring look in her compact mirror, and got back to work.

She'd have a few glasses of White Zinfandel at the Wine Bar after work to give her a little buzz for the evening's activities.

-

Dr. Joan Adkins entered her luxury Marina Towers apartment. She slipped out of her coat, letting it fall to the floor, kicking off her shoes at the same time. As she passed into the living room, she undid her scarf, pulled it off and dropped it on the coffee table, then headed to the bar. She poured herself a double of Jack Daniels, neat, downed it in one swift movement, and poured herself another, this time adding several ice cubes. She carried this one over to her favorite chair and set it on the small tray table to her right. The table was a tray held by a three foot buxom young lady in a French Maid's outfit. Looking at it, she chuckled; she had seen it in the window of The Bombay Company last year, and had purchased it because it reminded her of the fate of many of her "special girls."