And When I Return Ch. 12

Two men on the sidewalk actually stopped and watched as Anna ran, and when he skipped up the steps to the front of the restaurant, turned around and looked back, they had smiles as broad as their shoulders. As if it should matter to Anna, they gave her a "thumbs up" sign and moved on. The world was crazy, Anna thought.

Anna discreetly adjusted the bra straps and shifted the under-wiring so everything was in place again. Slightly out of breath, she phoned and said, "There...you happy?"

Diane was laughing as she said, "Fantastic, girl! Now come on to the reception. When you're there I'll get your attention."

Anna watched the phone go blank again and sighed. "Oh, wow, here we go..." he said in a whisper.

He walked in and stood for a moment to get used to the dimmer room. Then he made his way past people that were waiting for tables, or for friends to arrive. It was Friday after all, and work hours were different on this bright summer day. The girl at the front asked Anna, "Are you meeting someone ma'am?"

Just as Anna started to answer, the anal plug started its magic, vibrating with a persistence that made him squeal in a high pitched voice, "Oh God, yes! I mean, uh, yes, yes I am."

The hostess tilted her head slightly and squinted her eyes at the sound of his voice and the odd way he was acting and said, "Well, take a look then...or do you have a name?"

It hit him again and he went wide-eyed with shock. "Jason," he said, "I mean Diane...uh..."

"I beg your pardon? Last name? The person you're meeting?"

It was then that he realized he didn't know Diane's last name. After all this time, she had been Diane or ma'am or mistress Diane, but never with a last name. The vibrator wouldn't stop now and he couldn't think, and in fact could barely stand up.

"Ma'am? Are you okay ma'am?" the hostess asked. She was young and stupid, Anna thought thankfully. Either that, or she was worldly enough that she knew precisely who or what he was and why he was acting strangely. But by the look of her face, be betted on stupid.

The vibrator was unmerciful, but he managed to say, "She's, oh, she's uh here, uh, oh my God, uh...here already. Let me look."

Another young girl was now with the original hostess and they both watched him with fascination. The hostess said, "Follow Alana to the bar then." She gave a menu to Alana and she led him tentatively to the main restaurant area.

Alana said, "Do you see her yet ma'am?"

People. People...People everywhere. He felt like his nervous system was overloaded and his knees shook as he walked. His lips were parted and his eyes were hooded in a paucity of control over his own body. He tried to search the area but couldn't find them. He realized he wasn't going to last much longer. The out of control eroticism of the moment had him like a frog in a blender. The orgasm was right there...a little more, a little more...

"Ma'am? She's over there I presume...the one that's waving?"

The vibrator stopped and he regained his senses, standing there awkwardly as the blood rushed in waves like he was a seashell held to someone's ear on the beach. "Yes," he said, "That's them."

Alana left him to go to them, but she cast a couple of backward glances toward him, noting the tone of Anna's voice, how vibrant and full of timber it was. She went back to the hostess and they exchanged smiles and mystical looks. Anna hoped she was stupid too.

As Anna approached the two giggling women, he shook his head in both dismay and relief at seeing them. "I passed," he said, "I passed again." She sat down.

"Yes you did my friend. Yes you did," Diane said triumphantly, "You look perfect. Your boobs are moving with you in every proper way...but you really should work on your control of public orgasm."

Anna did a mock frown just before the vibrator started again. He writhed in his seat, putting his head in his hands, elbows on the table, while shuddering with near ecstasy. "Please...please stop, Jesus! Ma'am?"

"Here, have a drink of Chenin Blanc. Not very good in this place, but it's wet, and it's got alcohol in it, so who cares?" She reached into her purse and he heard a click as the vibrator was turned off by the remote control. "Now, you be a good girl, or you might have your orgasm right here, right now, and that is definitely not polite for a lady, is it? Mind you, you would have a following of men after you when you leave, so that wouldn't be too bad would it? Men love "dirty" women."

Anna gulped the first glass of wine and ordered another while ordering lunch. While the place filled up with the Friday lunch crowd, he began to relax. It was clear that everyone in the place thought he was a woman, and it surprised him how he felt about that. He felt like a protected species, fragile but wanted, even needed by some. Single men and husbands, all cast glances after him, not at him actually, but at his sexual representation, his breasts. They didn't care whether Anna felt anything or not; they all wanted those boobs in their faces.

On the third glass of wine, Diane asked him to go to the washroom with her. As they made their way among the tables, he felt eyes, even felt a forearm of a man who did not have the forearm in his path a moment before. It rubbed his hip as Anna pushed by. The man smiled and then turned back to his wife.

Anna glared at him. Jerk, he thought.

Fear struck him outside the washroom door as he became undecided. But with silent gestures, Diane pulled him into the women's washroom and checked all the stalls. They were empty, so they entered the handicapped cubicle together. Before Anna could even make a comment, Diane was on him, pulling his tights, panties and girdle down.

"Shh, sit down on the toilet," Diane ordered in a whisper. Then she got on her knees and pulled his penis into her mouth, at the same time turning the vibrator on again. He had no time to make sense of it as he was swept at warp speed ever closer to that "little death". With both her hands she reached up and massaged his breasts, and he became convinced in his fantasy world that they were real and that he could feel every pinch, every rub or squeeze. He spurted endlessly and Diane kept pulling it out of him. He managed to stay silent except for the whispering gasps of lust. When he went limp Diane got up and kissed him, opening her mouth and emptying its contents into him. The taste was salty and disgusting, and he gagged, but Diane whispered, "No! Swallow, swallow! A "dirty" woman swallows."

He did so and closed his eyes, panting, still floating in fantasy space. When he opened them, Diane was unlatching the cubicle door and leaving, but she turned and whispered one more thing, "It's hot. Take your tights off. Oh, and by the way, now you'll see what reality is."

He had no idea why she said that until he came down off his high. Oh yeah, he realized, my name is Jason, I'm dressed as a woman, and I'm sitting in a cubicle in a women's washroom in Orangeville. There was no fantasy in him now as he cleaned himself up, and when he went back into the dining room, he was sure every eye was on him, on Jason, the man in drag.

He felt alone, confused and afraid as he searched the tables. Diane and Fiona were gone. Again. A note was on the table and it read: Paid the check. Retrace your steps. Meet you where we dropped you off. Love Diane.

Oh shit, not again, was all he could think about. They had left him a full glass of wine and he drank it now in one tip of the glass. The reasons were twofold: to get rid of the taste of his own ejaculate, and for the courage to go on. He sat down to calm himself for a few moments, hoping, not for Diane to come back, but in desperation and need that Anna would.

Off to his left there was a mirror. He raised his left hand and touched his chest just above the slant of his upper right breast, pulling up faintly and letting go to the feel of the almost imperceptible bounce. He looked self consciously about to see if anyone had noticed. No one had. And Anna was back. It never took long now. Orgasm forced reality upon him; it always did, but now fantasy always returned very quickly. It was like he had a split personality, the two of them named Jason and Anna. Jason was now a faint whisper and Anna was devouring him, so that the now faint cries of him were inexorably fading to oblivion.

Anna stood up confidently and retraced his steps back to the Lexus in the parking lot almost two kilometers away. He nodded to men and women who glanced at his breasts and figure, smiled at those who smiled at him, and once, beside the dam, he stopped to fix his lipstick and rest, oblivious to the numerous people around him. He was just happy to be Anna, richly alive and human.

As he walked, he thought of all his fantasies that had been on the list which he had given to Diane, the bondage, erotic humiliation, latex and leather clothing, suspension bondage, and so many more. But they faded away in the bleached hot air. He knew they would come back when he became Jason again, but for now, they were gone and he intended to relay that to Diane tonight. For the rest of his stay he simply wanted to be Anna and stagger in the drunken femininity of it.

When he sat in the back seat of the Lexus, he couldn't stop smiling, but he couldn't talk; the emotions were too close to the surface. He leaned forward, resting his glossed fingernails on the leather seat, and kissed both Diane and Fiona on their cheeks. All three of them had glassy eyes and tight lipped smiles as they drove away, back home.

When Anna had his daily telephone chat with Jenna that evening, he felt in a dreamy metamorphosed state but the conversation went fluently from one thing to another with no pauses, no awkwardness. He knew what he had to do now, and he had the confidence to do it. But not on the phone. For the first time he saw life with such clarity that it was like he had been looking through Vaseline coated lenses before. There was no guesswork now. Difficult things had to be done. Difficult things had to be talked about and made clear to Jenna. It was the right thing to do.

Later that night Diane made love to him again, this time an top and facing him in the missionary position, their eyes locked upon one another. Like before, it was not love; it was something else; it was like an understanding, like something that had been shared between them that few others could understand.

When Diane finally grasped Anna's penis and helped him while she thrust back and forth into him, Anna came in portions, each separated by one of Diane's thrusts, time and time again, like he was being drained or milked, like the faucet was being turned on and off. In the end Anna closed his eyes and thrust upward strongly one last time while an endless deep seated moan escaped from its origin somewhere deep under his corset.

Later Diane smiled as she leaned over and covered Anna's limp body with a blanket. This had been a very unexpected outcome for the two weeks of training; it rarely went so well. In fact, it had never gone so well. Anna was unique and she looked like a princess in a mysterious sleep.

For his part Anna had no thoughts, no dreams, no nightmares, just soft colorless sleep uncluttered by either fantasy or reality, a peace so utterly deep that his breasts barely moved above his corset.

Diane closed the door softly and went to Fiona waiting in their bed. Tomorrow was Anna's last full day. It had to be made special.