CHAPTER 20
Joe lay in his bed. He had lost count of the days and weeks as
he watched the world go by through the fog of drugs and, after the
spinal block had worn off, pain.
With the passage of time, his body recuperated and this
morning the doctor had removed the last bandages shielding his
operation, pronounced him fully healed, and extracted the catheter.
It felt very peculiar to Joe, to have his insides probed and
scrutinized like that.
Joe refused to look at himself, and tried to ignore his
metamorphosis. Then the inevitable happened; he had to go to the
bathroom. He tried to ignore his bladder, but couldn't for long.
Reluctantly, he got out of bed, thankful for the long satin
nightgown, which covered him from neck to ankles.
In the bathroom, Joe frowned at the toilet. "I guess I'd
better get used to this."
Raising the back of his gown, Joe lowered his abundant ass
onto the seat. "At least those muscles haven't changed," Joe
thought as he urinated. Joe enjoyed the relief pissing brought and
when he was done stood up. letting his gown fall only to feel
wetness on his thighs as urine ran down them.
"Cripes!"
Joe gathered up his gown and sat down again. He'd forgotten
that girls had to wipe. Even though he wasn't a girl, he still
pissed like one and had to copy their hygienic techniques. He
bunched up some toilet paper and, looking away, stuck his hand down
and dabbed. When he was satisfied that he was dry, he got up and
returned to bed.
Outside his room, Dave Weinstein spoke to Monica.
"I am certain that Joe is depressed, resentful, and hostile
over the removal of his genitals. I think we should give him some
valium, then why don't you get him dressed as we discussed and see
if we can get his transvestite programming to take control of his
emotions.
Monica entered the room.
"Up and at 'em Joe."
Joe just glared at her.
"Joseph Watson! You get out of that bed right now and take
this medicine, before I call Dr. Van Damme and have you punished."
Joe complied, and after he had swallowed the Valium, Monica
sat him down and went to work on his hair to kill time until the
medication calmed him. Monica rolled Joe's hair up in curlers and
put lotion on it to keep the curls in. When she was done, Monica
pulled Joe's gown off. He instinctively brought his hands up over
his breasts. Monica snickered at this. "Oh come on Joe. There's no
secrets between friends, right? Here hold these."
Joe held up what looked like a pair of stockings, but they
were different. Holding them up, he recognized them as fishnet
hose. He hadn't seen them on a woman in years, except in some of
his men's magazines. Part of his mind considered what he would look
like in them. Not counting on Joe's cooperation, Monica put a
garter belt around his waist and hooked it in back. After sitting
him down, she rapidly rolled the hose up each leg. Standing Joe up,
Monica hooked up the hose and tightened the suspenders. She noticed
that he wouldn't look down. Sitting him down again, Monica slipped
shoes on his feet; red patent leather open-toed sandals with ankle
straps and five inch heels. She noticed how his red toenails peeked
out through the mesh of his stockings. "Sexy," she thought as she
buckled the straps tight.
Monica brought out a pair of French-cut black satin and lace
panties. She put them on over Joe's shoes then, standing him up,
pulled them slowly up his legs. Joe perceived a new sensation as
Monica pulled the panties up over his hips, a slight pressure on
his genital area that he 'd never experienced before.
All of a sudden Joe wanted to see what he looked like. He
walked over to the mirror. "Boy don't my legs look great?" Joe
asked himself.
Joe still resented the loss of his cock and balls, but the
drug had taken effect and besides, part of him liked the fact that
his panties fit properly now; with no protrusion or bulges from his
cock or balls. Joe could see his pubic hair, which had regrown,
through the lace, which ended at a satin panel which was flush
against his crotch. Beneath the taut material Joe could see the
outline of his new vulva. The transvestite in him was elated. Isn't
this the ultimate in cross-dressing? Joe felt his nipples tingle.
"Where's my bra?" he asked Monica.
"We're going to try something different today. Just wait."
Monica had Joe step into a skirt and she worked it up over his
hips. It was a black kidskin miniskirt and was it ever tight. Not
knowing that the clothes were designed to fit like that, Joe
thought. "I've got to lose some weight."
Joe looked at his profile. No outline of his cock showed, just
the feminine swell of his pelvis under the skirt. Monica held up a
strip of red leather and wrapped it around Joe's chest. "What's
that?" he asked.
"It's a bustier. Don't worry it will support you."
Monica pulled it together and fastened it. Joe's breasts were
tightly confined in its firm grip and he could tell that it would
support them, but looking down he discovered that it sure as hell
didn't cover them. It just squashed his breasts together and
offered them up for public inspection.
Monica wrapped a white patent leather belt around his waist
and gave him a matching purse. Taking an atomizer, she sprayed Joe
with perfume; behind his knees, between his breasts, on his neck
and shoulders. Joe was enveloped in an intoxicating fragrance.
Monica put the bottle in his bag, then removed the curlers from his
hair. Lifting Joe's golden curls, she placed a fine gold chain
around his neck. Attached to it was a locket which settled in his
cleavage. Joe picked it out. "I wonder what this is?" he thought.
Joe found a tiny latch and managed to open it. Inside was a
picture of himself; before any of the changes. Joe just stared at
it, surprised that he wasn't annoyed at this final humiliation. The
drug had kicked in Joe was not in control of his emotions. Rather
than anger or hate, some other passion built."I wasn't a bad
looking hunk," thought Joe as Monica brushed out his hair.
Joe didn't know it but he was getting turned on by his own
picture. His nipples stiffened and then he felt a well-known
commotion in his crotch. He was getting a hard on."Is it possible?"
Joe wondered. "Maybe my cock isn't gone, just hidden."
Joe resolved to check it out at the first opportunity, as he
shut the locket and returned it to the valley between his boobs.
Monica put some dangling gold earrings in his multiple-pierced ears
and gave him a gold link bracelet and a huge aquamarine ring.
Slipping the ring on his right ring-finger, Monica told him,
"Remember this Joe, aquamarine is your new birth-stone."
"What do you mean?"
"Well you're a new man, so to speak, so we'll use the day you
were made to celebrate your birthday from now on."
Joe followed Monica, finding it was much easier to walk
without his balls being pinched all the time. He liked the feel of
leather on his skin, the way his hair bounced when he walked and
brushed against his shoulders and back, and especially he liked the
perfume he wore. Joe knew he must look pretty sexy and he felt
sexy, but it never occurred to him, that he looked for all the
world, like a very beautiful, very high-priced call girl. As he
sashayed down the hall; breasts bouncing and hips and ass swaying
with every mincing step he took.
