PROMOTION TO A WOMAN part 1,4 & 5

[lorriette]

I was trying to keep cool. Outside it was 35c, and only just cooler inside. Despite having every window open, the lack of breeze left me looking like I'd just stepped from the shower. The garden, the patio furniture, well, the whole damned house, reflected the neglect of the last year. It was the first time since she left I'd noticed, but today I was too hot to start on any of it. It's hard to say when things went wrong. We had met in a club, gone around together for a year or so before getting engaged then sharing a flat. Jenny was doing well in sales, me for a national engineering concern. We went out a lot, had great holidays, yet still managed to save. After a year or two, we discussed the future, having children, decided to buy a nice detached house while we had two incomes and so as to have it all ready in advance. Within the year, things were about done, and Jenny came off the pill. Two years more, no baby. The NHS were great, but tests ruled out conception. That was a real tough time, and even with counseling, adoption, surrogacy, we resigned ourselves to a childless marriage. We didn't know it then, but the points had switched us onto parallel tracks, that would, ultimately, diverge. We remained close for the next few years, the only change, her two promotions. She now lived for her work, but this left us doing less together. The extra income let us spend more, pay the mortgage off quicker, the envy of many. The next promotion took her to regional sales executive, new friends, meetings, me no longer fitting in. We talked , but niether gave ground, didn't consider where it would lead. Six months latter, the offer, the interview, the end of our life together. Congratulations Jenny, the new national sales executive at head office. I love that woman, I was completely devastated. She put some favourite things, some clothes, personal things into a case, took it and placed it in the boot of the new executive BMW. She turned to me, held out her hand and said; " goodbye Bill, good luck in the future.". I had been dismissed just like a casual aquaintance or some employee! I stood and watched her drive off, tears running down my face. That was ten months ago, I still cry. The cleaning lady, fed up with my mess, no doubt, left after a few weeks. My work had suffered, and during a company downsize, I obviously lost out. Now I work for a local firm until something else comes along.

[shyguy]

A good start, got me waiting for the next bit...

[lorriette]

I was disappointed to have been seen through, but elated that a stranger would probably take me at face value. While I fetched some wine, glasses, and some nibbles, I reflected on the fact that she hadn’t “freaked” out, nor made fun of me, in fact, she seemed pretty cool with it. It seemed fair for me to tell her about Jenny, and the way she watched me led me to think I might be telling more than that. In the end, that’s just what did happen. We, or I should say I, talked for hours. Light snacks extended into light tea, and she admitted I did a good impression of Jenny, but she would think of me as Amanda. She excused herself, and to my joy, invited herself around in the morning. When she had gone, I tied away the tea dishes, finished the cleaning, and it occurred to me that I had got pleasure from the visit, and from the fact the house was clean and tidy. I fetched the washing in, sorted it, then did a quick check to see I had completed my tasks. I needed some bits of shopping. It had cooled outside, and on impulse, decided to shop en-femme. I re-touched my make-up, changed into a full summer skirt, and a really nice pair of sandals. These were very strappy, had high cork wedge heels and there was a matching bag. If the chemist was open still, I saw I needed some new make-up. As I drove to the shopping centre, I felt good, and thrilled that people would see the new me, a totally new experience. My nerves tingled and doubt nagged me, but having come up against Pauline, whom I knew, face to face and on home ground, then I was certain I could do this. After parking, I headed toward the shops. My confidence grew with each high heeled step, each person met, but suffered briefly in Boots, when I came to pay for my cosmetics. My cards were Williams’ and as such, marked. No panic, luckily I had enough cash in my purse! Before going into the Grocery store, I went to the cash machine, thus solving that problem. I was getting some admiring looks from the men, and catching sight of myself in the window, could see why. A 30’ish, pretty, well dressed woman looked back. How come I’ve taken almost 40 years to feel this good?. These supermarket carts seem to have minds of their own. I’d not noticed in the past, but in high heels, you’ve a real fight on your hands. I spent absolutely ages in there. Bought more wine, slip-on mules for doing housework in, a new cameo-top, books, music, food, in fact, almost double what I had envisaged. By the time I reached the checkout, the Tannoy was calling all customers to the tills as the store was closing. When I reached home and put the shopping away, I realized how much my feet and legs ached. It seems much harder to wear heels out and about, than indoors. After a nice scented bath, I put on a fancy under wired bra and matching thong. I don’t have a bust, but the bra gives some shape and I want to wear one anyhow. Over this went a long, silky nightdress, with high stiletto bedroom mules. I made coffee, relaxed on the sofa, and started watching a film on television. It wasn’t much of it, so I curled up and reflected on the day. Pauline hadn’t reacted quite as I had expected. If anything, she seemed a little excited, a touch out of things. Me? I’ve not entertained “girly” thoughts before, nor have I had homosexual thoughts, yet here I sit, the demure little woman, awaiting the caress of her lover. Macho Bill, in skirts and heels, yet wanting a woman, no wanting Pauline to come in, plant kisses on my mouth. We could cuddle and fondle, then, when we were both aroused, climb into bed for a night of lovemaking. What have I become?

[lorriette]

Sorry readers, I was having a lousy day and messed up the posting. these parts are there but under guest heading. Perhaps the moderator would be kind and put them in order.please?

[lorriette]

I have always been a bit bubbly and effusive. When I rushed into Jenny’s, I only superficially took things in. Bill looked like Jenny, and I wanted to check we were alone before embracing her. We were lovers before Bill came onto the scene, but she was already looking for a male partner, perhaps with an eye to her career. She was bi. Anyway, so long term, probably not for me. We continued to meet, had casual sex up until just over a year ago. On that occasion, she had mentioned difficulties, would not say what, and although friendly, refused intimacy. On Saturday, having seen her in her garden, and noticing only her clothes hung out, I decided to call around for a chat and, well, a bit more. My partner had just left me, and I needed to talk to a friend. I had been aware of something being odd, different. It was when she offered me coffee I started to focus, the cogs in my brain started to turn, facts began emerging. The wooden way she greeted me, lack of response to my comments, and things changed (except her outfits). Normally, she had on the very latest clothes. At the casual glance, she was as I remember, but in my study mode, the lips, eyes, jaw, nose and even her lips seemed slightly off. When I challenged her, the difference really did show. She startled me when she used my name, but the voice confirmed it. Had I not known Bill, would have accepted she was Amanda, but, with so many pieces not fitting, I played a hunch, the expression confirming I was right, Bill was trying to be Jenny. Being caught out, he didn’t spot that I was having problems deciding where to go from there. I studied him as he fetched wine, glasses and some nibbles. I would have expected to be revolted or something, but he was so natural, I saw him as female, even fancied him. I icily wondered if Jenny knew, and chose him for that reason. I didn’t really think so, after all, we shared loads of secrets, and had been very close. She might be more surprised than I. What to do now? Hear him out I suppose, decide latter. Once I had squeezed the whole story out of him, it was clear he’d transferred his love for her, onto his alter-ego. It was also plain that Jenny had moved on, and my intentions along that avenue were finished. We had spent a pleasant afternoon together, had tea, and best of all, I had something else to think about. I decided Amanda could be my friend, in fact, I had arranged to go around in the morning. That evening, I spent a lot of time thinking about myself. I wanted a partner, a female partner. My work was going well, I had my own flat, could come home to mum like now, and even at my age, 35, go clubbing. I had five partners over the last three years, but want a long term relationship. I’m not butch, nor do I like butch, beer swilling, aggressive or shorn haired agro merchants. A shame Amanda is male, because she is something like my model partner. But wait! He intends to stay female, perhaps little Amanda might be able to fit the bill. Ha! I made a funny, Bill fits the bill. I grabbed my lap-top and delved into the net. After hours of surfing, a solution presented itself. All I had to do now was to persuade Amanda, and my crystal ball shows a fairytale ending. With that, I went to bed, a happy heart, a smile upon my face. It’s not often one gets the chance to sort two lives in such a short time.

[shyguy]

more more.

[lorriette]

Part 6 Sunday found me showered, hair in place, light make-up and dressed as the previous evening. I was nibbling toast, and had a part drunk glass of orange juice by my side. The euphoria of yesterday was still with me, and I was reluctant to let the moment pass. In this mind, I had decided to become Jenny full time. Then, cost permitting, have cosmetic surgery to enhance my female self. The doorbell rang, and I let Pauline in. She looked lovely and very relaxed in a long summer frock, worn with toe post sandals. She held me, kissed my mouth and left me wondering if I was dreaming. I was not, but was scared that I might spoil things as I had an erection starting. Pauline released me and moved into the kitchen, and poured herself a glass of juice. She suggested we go up stairs to pick out some clothes for me. She selected a bustier with padded cups and matching thong. I needed her help to it on. Next came a red halter neck mini-dress. She found white sandals with a bar across the front, ankle straps and tapered heels. These looked lower than the previous ones I’d worn, but were actually just as high. Red costume accessories completed the look, and with my things now in a white hand bag, she took me down and out to my car. We drove in the opposite direction to town. After a while, we approached the next town, but she had us pull off into a “ toby” carvery on the outskirts. As we walked in for Sunday roast, my first in a year, I could feel the excitement rise within me. During the hour or so we dined, our chat had been of things past, catching up in the way friends do. Afterwards, we headed on into town and visited one of the large malls. I was getting into feeling like a woman, good job as she had me try on just about everything imaginable enjoyed the glances, the ease of the clothes, a sense of freedom, away from the restrictions that men imagine are upon them. Forgetting I was male, and shopping freestyle rather than to lists and needs, meant I enjoyed shopping. I ended up complaining my feet hurt, but I think Pauline was ready for a break too, to judge by the haste she found us a service area. We were refreshed after a pot of tea, but several shops were closing, so we headed for the car. We couldn’t have carried much more anyway. It was back to my place, purchases away, and change for the evening. Off with the dress, the shoes, the bangles. On with my new silver & blue sequined top, a deep blue mini and a gorgeous pair of blue sling-back shoes who’s thin spike heels looked a mile long. They were certainly higher than the last ones, and I wobbled slightly in them. Pauline did my make-up in a rather dramatic fashion, and picked large silver hoops for my ears, and silver necklace, bracelet, watch and rings. I had expected to be spending the evening in, but we left, on foot, to go to her mums. I found it hard to walk due to the height and thickness of my heels on the uneven ground. When I mentioned this, she said,” take shorter steps, placing your feet in line ahead, allow the hips to sway. It gets easier the more you do it, and any way, we don’t tend to walk too far on this kind of terrain.” We arrived at her mums without me breaking an ankle. Her mum, Agnes, met us as we went in. “Hello Jenny, haven’t seen you for absolutely ages.” Pauline quickly put in “this isn’t Jenny mum, It’s Amanda her sister. She now lives over the back because Jenny and Bill moved up north when she got that big promotion last year. I’ll just pop upstairs and change, back in a tick.” We sat in the living room and briefly talked about Jenny & Bill. Agnes then asked “are you and my Pauline, you know, together”? I hadn’t expected that, nor at that point did I have a clear idea of the relationship. I said it was early days yet, to which she seemed o.k. with, and gave the impression she liked and approved of me. Pauline came in looking stunning. Her pilled on top of her head, a shinning mid-calf silver dress, high heels that seemed to consist of criss-cross silver ribbons to above her ankles where they tied off. She carried a silver clutch bag. I couldn’t help but say “wow, you look great”. Agnes added, “yes, you really do dear, you also look good Amanda”. Pauline drove us to a club where, she assured me, we could dance, drink, mix with the others, or just relax in each others company. A couple of weeks before, the notion I would enter a club posing as a member of the opposite sex would have been both a huge joke and an insult. The club was exactly as she described, no one bothered us, we danced together, held hands, kissed and spent most of the time in a little alcove, chatting. It seemed, un-believeable that the attraction was mutual, and she wanted me, as Amanda, to be her partner. Who says you have to die to go to heaven, although, I suppose Bill had sort of been killed off, but who cares, Amanda has emerged from her chrysalis.

[lorriette]

Part 7 Pauline went back to work on Monday, I didn’t. I phoned in my resignation, taking holidays in lieu of notice. I re-sorted the charity boxes, added all Bills clothes, and before I could change my mind, took them to the charity shop. I was still playing dressing up, but I had burned my bridges. Now I could focus on attaining the new future I, and Pauline, had decided on. I was able to fill my time about the house doing routine jobs, pouring over my finances, and on the net. I looked at sites for cosmetic surgery, drugs, chat rooms and forums, then fashion pages, shops, in fact, browsed for several hours a day. Pauline rang every night, and would be staying with me Friday. She said she had some exciting news, but I would have to wait as she wanted to do it face to face. I could hardly wait. I wondered if we would go to the club, it seemed unlikely. On Friday, I decided to cook us a romantic meal, champagne, soft lights, scented candles, music. I put on sexy lingerie to entice her, for I wanted to sleep with her, her body against mine, touching, kissing, making luurve. I’m a wanton hussy, full of desire. She almost bounced in, before I could fully close the door, her arms were around me, her tongue probing my mouth. Eventually we disentangled ourselves and I could lead her to the dining room. She clapped her excitement and I served the food. Over diner, we talked about the past week, the main talk held off until latter. Without clearing away first, Pauline dragged me upstairs and into the bedroom. She guided our love making, and even without my having penetrated her, I still gained bucketfuls of satisfaction. Afterwards, we sat snuggled up together in bed, and I reviewed my enquiries of the week. She did not interrupt, just smiled and listened. I ended, a little apprehensive of the implication. “But I want you to further, to the max. I can arrange a whole sex change operation for you, your own breasts, not the implants you spoke of. Shave your Adams apple, tighten the vocal chords, a few tweaks here and there. Just think, your own fanny.” I had been thinking in terms of male on female sex, just that I too would have titties. Here she was proposing I lose my manhood. I could see it made sense, she was right, I could hardly become Jenny, Amanda as Pauline preferred, if down below was a permanent reminder I was Bill. The problem with her plan centered on cost, I couldn’t afford all those operations, or the time in recovery, and I’m sure you need referrals and a year or two, of like, back-out time. I told her what I thought wrong about her plans. She laughed, and went on to tell me that she had not expected me to bear the cost, and she could sort the counseling, then detailed her plans. In short, she proposed selling her flat and moving in with me, the monies used to fund my surgery and costs until I could work, surplus being kept aside for her, should we split. She also wanted to bank some of my sperm, in case we wanted a family later, maybe with her egg inside me! There was room for me to work in her interior design consultancy. Part of me wanted to throw up objections, seek out flaws in the plan, but it was exactly what I had hoped for, all or nothing. In the end, I just said “yes, let’s do it”. We kissed, then went to sleep in each others arms, satisfied that we each would get our desires fulfilled.