Something in the Water Ch. 04

The alarm clock went off way too early. I had only vague recollections of last night; my head was pounding; I was nauseous, and I needed a drink of water badly. I shuffled to the bathroom and turned on the light, my eyes deliberately closed to avoid the hit of full light, and I put my hands over them to gradually allow cracks of illumination through. Each ray of light was like a lightning bolt of pain, so I progressed slowly. In the distant recesses of my dulled senses I felt something was different, like my body was moving, greased, smooth, and yet restricted in some places, a tightness. My hands touched my nightdress and I think my eyes flew open then as the silky satin slipperiness shocked me into reality. I felt my "breasts"...the remembrance of last night rushing back. The mirror showed a man in drag staring back, 5 o'clock shadow, smeared lipstick and eye shadow, lumpy sock-breasts and a hairy chest. It was not a pretty sight. Ludicrous, actually. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, erotic about this picture.

Groaning, I grimaced and got out the Advil, throwing back three of them with a full glass of water. I waited. It never occurred to me to get undressed. My brain felt so scrambled that I hoped the cure would be immediate. It was not. I sat on the edge of our double bathtub rubbing my face and when I looked up, Jenny was in the doorway grinning.

"Jesus, you're a sight this morning. Sorry to be so direct, but you look like shit honey. Here; I'll show you how to get that makeup off. I can't stand to look at you." She grinned and started applying makeup remover as I winced at the slightest pressure on my aching head. "There," she said, "Now go make me some breakfast would you dear? I know...you want to change out of that, but don't, okay? I want you to linger in it, get used to it, get a feel for constant femininity, feel safe in it. It gives me goose bumps and I want it to give you the same. Oh, and get that coffee going too. I'm gonna shower after I poop."

She had a way with words that I treasured. What woman turns to you and says she's going to have a poop? She entered the water closet and closed the door, leaving me to decipher her instructions through the fog of hang over. How could this seem so casual and normal? But it did.

There were three empty wine bottles on the kitchen island. Funny...I had thought we only drank two. That would explain the headache I thought, and from Jen's perky look, I must have consumed the larger portion. Ow, ow, and ow, as each of my steps sent seismic events up my torso to my head. Coffee, yes, coffee. I adjusted my bra; as the underwire was causing a pressure point in the center of my chest. To be honest, I just wanted to take it off, but there was something that kept me from doing that. Was it Jenny's order, or was it something inside me that craved it? I didn't know; I just "did".

It was still dark outside but the birds were singing, a declaration that daylight was on its way. I stood in the kitchen nook watching the mountains slowly come into view as the sun rose behind me to the east. My nightwear felt heavy, smooth, and sexy, the satin hanging like weighted curtains from my shoulders and breasts. The Advil was starting to work. I was starting to think again. Then I realized if I could see out, others could see in, not that anyone would be out on the pathway this early, but you could never be sure, as people often walked their pets before going to work. I sat down to minimize my visibility.

How ordinary and extraordinary this seemed at the very same time.

The coffee was ready, so I poured a cup, put a dash of 2% into it and took it to the bathroom for Jenny, putting it by the sink. I glanced at her foggy figure, feline in its grace in the glass shower stall and thought about showering with her, but the energy wasn't there, so I prepared her breakfast instead. It wasn't much, just Shreddies with raisin sprinkles for her. I put it on a place mat on the table in the nook, sitting there, solitary, awaiting milk and sugar, her touch.

Pouring myself a coffee, I went to the bouquet on the kitchen island, took out a rose, and placed it in a small vase which in turn was placed strategically in front of Jen's breakfast. I wanted her to know that I not only loved her, but I loved last night. The coffee went down hot and fresh, searing my headache like cauterizing a wound, ending the pain. The memories of last night flooded back now, the fear, the anger, the ecstasy and joy; the lust and passion with which we made love. It had never been this way before. There was honesty to it, an unbridled love with no baggage.

My headache was gone by the time Jenny did her grand entrance. It was always a grand entrance with her. Bands should have been playing, symphonies even; she was so beautiful. She was dressed conservatively as usual, a dark blue pencil skirt with a white blouse and dark blazer. Her hair swished past my face as she leaned over to kiss me, her hand brushing lightly over my bra where it fastened on my back, all so delightful and normal feeling.

"Thanks for the breakfast and coffee hon. Listen, I gotta run. No time to talk this morning. Just so you'll know though, last night was wonderful...more than that...fantastic actually. Bet you don't feel so great though; look at those wine bottles!" She looked at her watch, "Hey you better get a move on; you're gonna to be late for work." She was already gobbling her Shreddies as she shooed me to the bedroom to start moving.

I jumped, pulling out of my slow-as-molasses reverie, realizing that despite our adventure last night, the sun still came up this morning, and I still had a job, such as it was. I had to get moving. So I got up, kissed her on the forehead and started to walk to the bedroom.

Between mouthfuls of Shreddies, "I laid out something for you. Not much, but it'll have to do until we go shopping. If you don't like the color, get a different pair out of the drawer. See you tonight Jackie. Love you. Mmwa." She blew me a kiss.

I entered the bedroom and there on the bed was a pair of pink panties. That's all, one pair of panties, a small gesture with a huge impact. Curious as to what choices I had in colors I checked my underwear drawer, or what used to be my underwear drawer. It was filled with panties and other frilly things in all colors of the rainbow. Nice, but where was my regular stuff? I checked my other drawers...nothing. Then it dawned on me; that this WAS my underwear drawer. I went back to the kitchen to ask Jenny where my male underwear was but she was gone. Back in the bedroom again, I noticed that the waste basket was piled full of my jockey shorts. A post-it note on the top said, "Bye-bye". I sat on the bed and thought about this. This was definitely a turning point. Jenny certainly had made peace with herself regarding my cross dressing and not only that, she had clearly made a decision for me. I wasn't completely sure if I was angry or excited...but I left the waste basket alone.

Although my head still felt like it was enclosed in a pillow, for the most part my hangover was now retreating. The shower removed all the cobwebs in my brain, and I shaved carefully, trying to get as smooth a cut as possible. For the first time I hated my whiskers, for they represented something that in my mind made me ugly. Flash back to the man in drag in the mirror.

I looked at the clock. Oh God...6:35! I had to be at work at 7:30, and it was a one-hour commute to my warehouse. I quickly put on the panties. There was no time to be erotic; I just got dressed as Jen had told me to, pulled on my pants and shirt and left. No time to analyze.

That day at work was awkward. I kept forgetting that I had panties on and when I went to the urinal I had to stop and then retreat to one of the stalls so I could pee. To avoid the loud gurgle of peeing there standing up, I decided sitting down would be best. The paranoia of being caught plus the feminine requirement of sitting down proved to be extremely erotic as the day progressed.

Each morning that week, I chose another pair of panties; each night when I came home from work, I showered and Jenny laid out clothes for me, always a garter belt with hose, a bra, and a skirt with a blouse. The only makeup that she required was lipstick. She laughingly said I needed some sculpting before she tried full makeup again, whatever that meant. I wore the same night gown every night, with panties and a padded bra underneath and we embraced and kissed each other good night before going to sleep. There was no sex and it was seeming more and more normal to be dressed as a woman. It just felt and seemed right, and yes there were goose bumps.

Friday was date night for us, always was, always would be. Not that we always went out; we just did something special together, ordered a pizza or Chinese food, drank a bit too much wine, talked and laughed together, that sort of thing. Most of the time we didn't even have sex; it was way too comfortable for that.

This Friday night was clearly different and I was beginning to realize that the rest of my life was now going to be different as well. There was a sexual froth to the air, a zing in our ears as we sipped our wine and talked. The silicone breasts had arrived that afternoon and I was wearing them, squishy and heavy in my bra, bouncing when I walked. Even normal movements made them jiggle, and it was a strange experience, certainly not yet a familiarity. Jenny touched them when I sat down to eat, and I swear I could feel her contact as if it was directly on my own skin. I tingled and felt alive.

We were fumbling with chop sticks, talking about our week, how so-and-so spilled-hot-coffee-on-his-lap-and-how-funny-that-was-but-it-must-have-been-hot-and-his-wife-would-have-a-hot-one-that-night-ha-ha. We laughed a lot, and the words and sentences ran together as we just threw anything and everything out there for comment, just like a couple in love. I said, "Hey, we sound like a couple of girls giggling and laughing."

"Keep your cock on Jake; don't get too carried away. Just because you dress like a girl, doesn't mean you can act like a girl. Yet. You're still a man in drag; you've got a long way to go." Her green eyes sparked. "Hey, let's try out our tub tonight. We can light some candles and finish our wine there. Put The Bolero cd on. One thing might lead to another you know...wink, wink, nudge, nudge."

She was an enigma to me. I felt comfortable wearing female clothes with her, but I always felt a bit off balance, like she was maneuvering me like a puppet. It vaguely thrilled and intimidated me at the same time.

Yes, the double tub; we had always wanted a double soaker tub. I filled it up now and also lit candles, placing several around the tub and two more in front of the mirror at the sink. Jenny did a funny little erotic dance as she stripped and stepped in. I decided not to try and follow that act with a similar one, so I awkwardly pulled off my clothes and was briefly in wonder at my silicone breasts, because they had established some suction and stuck to my chest for a few moments before going "splush" in the tub.

Jen laughed and said, "We have to find some glue for those I guess."

If there was any tension in our bodies it disappeared now in the heat of the water and in the steam or fog of sexual awareness. I washed her body completely, pausing at certain destinations I had visited before, always with wonder as if I had never been there. She did the same for me. The wind was starting to blow in the trees; and then she stopped.

"Not so fast Jackie; we've got all night," she whispered, and then she surprised me by pushing my head under the water, my bum slipping frictionless. I came up gasping, coughing, and laughing, spitting out water.

She smiled playfully, "You just relax and drink your wine baby while I shave okay?"

I had never watched a woman shave before, not this way. There was an erotic gentleness and rhythm to it, and this, combined with the hypnotic repetitive crescendo of Ravel's Bolero permeating the air, put me in a trance. I sipped and watched, and she occasionally glanced at me, smiling.

Finally she stopped, sipped on her own wine, tilted her head and whispered, "Put your leg up on the side of the tub baby." There was a huskiness to her voice.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Just relax sweetie," she whispered as she lathered my leg and with expert strokes removed all the hair.

The Bolero kept building its daydream and I continued to watch, mesmerized and helpless. Dum-da-de-dum-da-de-dum-da-de-da, da-dum-da-de-da....the music continued...

"Other leg."

I sipped my wine. Da-de-dum-da-de-da...

"Lift your arm." dum-da-de-da...

"Now the other arm. Now stand up." Her instruction whispered through the steam.

I stood, very much aroused before her, she on her knees in the tub, and she lathered my chest and genitals. I grasped the handrail beside the tub and whispered out loud, "Is this really happening? Oh my God."

Jenny looked up at me and smiled, "Yes it is honey. Yes it is."

I felt powerless for some reason and I let it happen. It was done. The Bolero finished with a wild blare of the horn section.

The water was full of floating hair as I looked down at my Jenny smiling up at me. She said, "This is the way I want you from now on. But you're going to have to do it yourself...every morning in the shower. No more body hair. I want you smooth. Now rinse off in the shower and come to bed."

Suddenly I came to my senses. "Jen, hold on a second; it's summer. I don't want to wear long pants and not go swimming, all that stuff. Shit! What the hell have I done?"

Jen had gotten out of the tub and was toweling herself off. She laughed. "Big deal! You think anyone notices your body hair, or your lack of it? Relax and enjoy the journey. I know I am. Now you're all prepared for tomorrow night, provided you shave again tomorrow morning."

"Why," I said, "What's going on tomorrow night?"

"Jillian and Doug are coming over for a barbeque. Hot day tomorrow, I'm told, not a good day for long pants I wouldn't think."

"What? Are you serious? Jen, that's not nice. I mean...I don't think I'm ready for that. That's gonna be very uncomfortable. You...you kinda seduced me here."

"Hmm, I didn't see you complaining, or did I miss something?"

"No," I whined, "but I just...I guess I just wanted this to be private, just between the two of us."

Jen shook her head slowly back and forth, "Too late for that already, don't you think? Listen, you really have to let go you know? I can't believe how much guilt and shame you have pent up inside you. I suppose that's partly my fault, but you have to relax and let go. To be totally free of the guilt and shame, you have to come out."

"Come out?"

"Yes, come out. Jillian's led Doug out of the closet and now controls his sex life. He doesn't tell anybody about his life, but he doesn't exactly hide it either. Did you know he had all his body hair removed?"

"Removed? You mean permanently? What? Really? I never noticed." I scratched my head in wonder that I wouldn't have seen that.

Jenny looked at me triumphantly. "I rest my case," she said, "It's time you got to really know him, ask him some questions, find out what it's like to be in a female led relationship, because that's where you are now Jackie. Now, when you get rinsed off, put these on and come to the vanity. Time to make you totally feminine for the evening."

I stood there with my mouth open, excited and afraid of where this was going, of where it already was, but more afraid of where all this had come from. I was burning bridges and so was she.

After rinsing and drying off I put on my bra with the silicone breast inserts. With my hair removed, they seemed to stick like they were part of me. I marveled at the smoothness of my skin, although my underarms were stinging a little bit from razor burn. Shaving had been an essential chore for me for many years now, but that was only my face; it was about to get worse, way worse. As I dressed I noticed that everything slipped and slid; the panties, the garter belt, the hose; they all glided over my skin, like silk on silk; until they were fixed in place of course; then there was only micro-slippage under the garments, just enough to make me constantly aware of the clothing I had on, the intimacy of it. I shivered in delight.

Despite Jen's failed efforts at trimming my eyebrows (I complained too much), she spent way more time on facial details tonight, with added details of lip liner, eye liner, better foundation, blush and shadow. When she was done she spun me around to face the mirror and it was like I was someone else, a female someone else, someone named Jackie.

"All the makeup is new, water resistant stuff, and it doesn't smear. You'll still look like this in the morning. Now for the crowning glory," Jen said, and she pulled a long auburn wig from behind her back, the same color as her own hair. There were no curls, but when placed on my head, the bangs covered my forehead and part of my eyebrows, and the tresses fell in waves over my shoulders. "Tah dah!" she said, victorious at her achievements.

I was transfixed. With or without a fantasy bias, I looked like a woman. Where the hell had all this been? And a crush of fear overcame me. "Jen?" I said.

"What?"

"Umm, are you sure you're okay with this? I mean...I look like a woman here for Christ's sake. I've never felt happier and excited, but let's face it; this is weird. Are you okay? I mean...are you really okay with this, or are you just trying to make me feel good? I just don't understand why a woman would want her man to look like a woman."

Jen looked at me and sighed. "Okay, we need more talk and wine I see. Let's take it slow and go out on the patio for awhile."

"It's still light Jen. Look at me."

"You can pass, believe me, you can pass. The wig clinches it. Relax."

I walked out on the patio with stealth, and pulled my chaise lounge chair back as tight to the house as I could and sat down, a glass of wine in one hand, the bottle in the other. I looked nervously about. There was a public paved pathway at the end of our property, 100 feet away, just before the escarpment plunged away to the river. To say I was nervous was a gross understatement.

Jen came out with her wine glass and smiled. "To quote a phrase, you look as nervous as a long-tailed tom cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Relax. If someone sees us, I talk, you smile and listen. Good practice for you."

I scrunched my brow and said, "Practice? What do you mean, practice? You think you're gonna get me to go public like this? No way." My heart was pounding. Jen had said SHE was scared and needed time the other night. Seemed like the roles had reversed here; I was lagging behind.

Jen just laughed. "Drink your wine and shut up stupid. Listen, just to put your mind at ease here, you don't seem to realize how much time, effort, and study I've put into understanding you and your fetishes. Truth is, you my dear are a very lucky man; I not only accept your cross dressing, I desire it. I'm not going to throw all that indecisive anguish I've had over the past few months away, just because you've suddenly got cold feet. I've had a major life change here, in case you didn't realize. I'm finally demanding what I want, not what society deems to be necessary for me. Like that para-glider over there, I've jumped off the cliff, and so have you. Learn to fly."

She became silent as we watched him swoop with the wind, perfectly in control, but nonetheless at the mercy of the wind. Much like us, I thought; Jen was assuming control, but the wind was taking us places we had never been.

She resumed, "I told you I had to be in control. That's the only way this can work. When Jillian told me I had to assume that control, I didn't believe her; it just didn't seem right that I should take control of someone else's life. But now I get it. It's powerful Jackie...this feeling I have when I tell you to dress certain ways. I can't really describe it, but now I see it and feel it. Now you have to make a decision: are you ready to let me take control, or do you want to go back the way it was? Because those are the only two options."