When the Wind Blows...
by Writer 345©
Okay, so it was all my own fault really as I never could leave well alone. I always have to fiddle with things: it's a compulsion.
I mean, it's not that I've got any talent for fixing them. I haven't, but I've got to take them to pieces, I have to try and fathom out how they work; I have to fiddle... If I didn't then none of this would have happened: or would it?
There's an old saying that goes: 'It takes two to tango.'
...Or in this case: three!
“Ah-ha!” I hear you say. “The tango's a dance for two! Three can't tango!”
Well you are wrong on two counts... Three people CAN dance a Tango if they take turns or if the dance is an excuse me! And it was Ritsuko who tapped me on the shoulder.
Okay! Okay! So I'm being hysterical!
I'm not making much sense, am I? Blame Sandra; blame Ritsuko; blame life in general: none of this was my fault. I mean, we were happily married, weren't we?
Sandra and I: we had a baby...
We had a nice home...
We had good jobs working for the same firm...
We met at work and that's were we also met Ritsuko...
The tango was an 'excuse me'.
Blame Ritsuko: it was she that tapped me on the shoulder as we danced past...
Blame Sandra: she danced with Ritsuko...
Blame work: it was them that set up the dance...
Yes, yes, alright – blame me too: it was me that stepped back and encouraged Ritsuko to dance with my wife...
Blame my inquisitiveness...
Blame my childish need to fiddle with our marriage: our relationship...
Blame lesbians: they've always fascinated me...
Okay! Okay! I guess that I'd better calm down and try to make sense of everything that I've caused to happen. Well I did cause it, didn't I?
No! I don't think that I did... I didn't caused it but I certainly triggered it.
God I need a drink!
2. Route map of the Road to Hell.
“Sandra Normanton, do you take this man, Robert Huntsman, to be your lawful wedded husband?” The priest had intoned during the ceremony four years ago.
My darling had answered that she did and the priest, smiling beatifically, had then pronounced us to be 'man and wife'. We instantly became Mr and Mrs Huntsman and a new life lay before us.
So how did married life go? Well surprisingly easy: the road being smooth and quite free of potholes, pitfalls and other obstacles. Oh sure: there was the odd row... The occasional falling-out: but that kind of thing was perfectly normal for a married couple – healthy even because rows clear the air.
As a couple, we were quite different: she was five foot four, stocky and well-built with gorgeous, long red hair. Striking, rather than pretty but with a good figure that was a little top heavy... I guess that it was her tits that I had noticed first, her tits and her long hair that reached down past them.
I, on the other hand, at six-foot, was tall and slim with mousy-fair hair: not that I took much notice of my looks or appearance and neither did anyone else for there was nothing striking about me. I was mister average who tended to blend into the background, usually from choice.
Sandra and I went well together and complimented each other. She was a bit older than me, a bit more experienced and a bit more realistic regarding the world. In short we suited each other and seemed to be set up for life: or should have been.
As I said, we both worked for the same company, Black Helix Ltd, which was one of the new(ish) biotech cum genome exploitation companies that had begun to spring up all of a sudden some ten years earlier. Sandra did something on the R&D side of things which I as interested in but didn't really have the knowledge to understand or even to follow. I, on the other hand, was an administrator in the 'Human Resources' department. As I've already said, she was a couple of years older than me: not that it mattered to us.
We were married: we were working for the same firm and we had our own house which was fairly close to our place of work. We lived on the edge of a small Shropshire village and worked just outside it – Black Helix being based in one of those stately homes that no one wanted to live in in the early part of the twenty-first century.
I'd grown up in the country and so was used to the slower pace of life. While Sandra hailed from a small town up-north somewhere and was glad of the peace and quiet that could be found in Shropshire. So, all things considered, you will see that we had it made... Or would have if it hadn't been for my need to tinker...
We had been married for two and a half years and already started a family: little Melanie was as bright as a button, and it goes without saying that we loved her dearly. Sandra hadn't had it easy during the birth and I had more or less decided that she was going to be an 'only-child': I wasn't going to put my wife through another twenty-two hours of hell... Once was more than enough.
Sandra was back at work after her maternity leave: she could have had more time off, she was entitled to it, but wanted to resume working on the various projects that her section was involved in. Child-care wasn't a problem as we could afford to pay someone to come in and look after little Melanie – we both had well-paid jobs and thanks to the company's recent expansion... They were about to become even better paid, or rather Sandra's was for she was given a promotion. Something that she had been working at suddenly came together: it was a fundamental series of discoveries that sprung from her investigations into the non-functional part of the Human Genome. The Board could see the potential of it and easily obtained on-going funding from the Ministry of Defence to develop it – whatever it was.
Firstly, Sandra was promoted several grades and instructed to recruit her own team. In other words, her salary more than doubled overnight, dwarfing my own in the process.
Secondly, Black Helix entered into a partnership with a Japanese company by the name of Furukawa Biotech which was working on more or less the same type of things as Black Helix. There had been a series of exploratory meetings, ideas had been exchanged, tentative investigations made and papers had then been signed. Black Helix and Furukawa Biotech complimented each other and the new partnership spanned the world. Of course, tucked away in my office over in the Human Resources section of the admin wing, I saw little of this and only really found out what had happened when it had become a fait accompli. Sandra had been well-aware of the on-going merger process but had been forbidden to discuss it with anyone: me included. Sure I was peeved to be kept out of the loop but as I was only a lowly minion in the new great enterprise there had been no point in making a fuss about things. And besides, it turned out that the merger had been responsible for Sandra's promotion, so I definitely wasn't going to complain.
It was also the merger that brought Ritsuko into our lives or rather it was the merger that brought her into the company – it was me that brought her into our lives.
3. Survival of the Species.
Okay, I said that I had a good job although what I really meant was that I had a secure one. The company was expanding thanks to the new merger so my job was even more secure and I was kept fairly busy interviewing and employing new members of staff. I won't go into details here as the procedures followed are standard in the human resources field and would be pretty boring to anyone who is not a personnel officer. Thinking about it, they would be boring to anyone who is!
It was a hectic few months but towards Christmas the work-load began to ease and I was able to relax for the first time in ages... Or at least I was able to relax at work... And being able to relax I found that my mind was beginning to wander. Now a couple of the women who who worked in my department were in a relationship: not that this was anything out of the ordinary these days. In fact they had gone around putting up posters back in April when it had been 'World Lesbian Visibility Week', April 26th had long been observed as Lesbian Visibility Day and this had been stretched into a whole week of lesbian, er, stuff.
And being a compulsive tinkerer, I now had something to mull over. The two lesbians in the department kept themselves more or less to themselves except for the bit about putting up lesbian-themed posters. Naturally the company didn't interfere and left them too it. As for me, well I didn't interfere either (I wanted to keep my job after all) but, as I said, it gave me something to think about.
Lesbians fascinate me and so I did a bit of reading up on the topic and by that I don't mean reading pornographic stories...
Well, not just reading pornographic stories...
I was interested in the whole phenomenon from a biological point of view and, more specifically, I wanted to know why it was so common as it was counter intuitive from a species-survival point of view, wasn't it? Then I came across a piece of research that had been published in Canada that provided an answer... Apparently it was all to do with the the length of time needed to rear human infants. The researchers claimed that the effort that needed to be invested in raising a child was too much for a single parent in the days of early humans and that any mother who lost her mate/partner would be very likely to lose her child as well as she would be unable to provide for it on her own... In other words she needed a new mate!
The researchers then pointed out that as far as the growing child was concerned, it did not matter if the mother's new partner was male or female providing that the child was cared for and fed... Finding a new mate would mean that the infant would stand a good chance of living, maturing and breeding.
The mother remaining on her own would be its death sentence as she could not provide for both of them and no mother is going to let her child die!
Hence societies where females were able to bond with other females would stand more chance of raising children and that this would be what is termed a 'positive survival pressure'. To me this made some kind of sense and I was hooked. Sure it took a lot of effort to successfully care for a child even now... We had the proof of this at home in the shape of a baby daughter who still needed twenty-four hour care.
But besides this, the thought of two women doing it together was, to my male mind, sort of cool! Sure, I'd seen the porn-version of this just like most other males had. I remember watching enthralled by the sleek and smooth bodies as they moved both with and against each other in their graceful and passionate dance: a dance that no man could partake in...
Erect nipples and puffy nether lips moving effortlessly under the delicate touch of smooth and tapered fingers.
The moans of ecstatic release...
Yes. I'd seen the videos and wanked myself off to them but this did nothing but arouse a deeper curiosity. What was it that the porn stars were pretending to feel? They clearly felt something and I needed to know what.
Those smooth, padded bodies as they moved against each other...
The total lack of machine-like pelvic thrusts of male dominating female and forcing her to submit with his greater bulk, strength and aggression.
This was a shared intimacy that they were clearly enjoying: a soft and gentle intimacy without the intrusion of crude, hard male genitalia being forced into places that they did not belong – or so it seemed to me as I observed the sapphic dancers moving to the silent music of their love as they performed their intimate tango.
Although Lesbians couldn't give each other babies they certainly gave each other pleasure: pleasure that I couldn't share!
Hardly a week went by without the mention of a lesbian wedding in the press or on television. I remember those photographs: pictures of weddings with two brides. Photos that turned me on reinforcing the knowledge that I was a complete biological outsider.
What was going on???
I simply had to know!!!
4. Sowing the wind.
And then Christmas was fast approaching and the whole of the year... Easter... Our birthdays... Lesbian Visibility Week... The Summer... Everything... Lay behind us. It was a special Christmas... Melanie's second one for she had been born late in the previous Autumn.
Christmas brought what Christmas always brings: shopping, cards, the works party. It was a special Christmas, but then every Christmas in a household with a baby is always very special. And as caring parents we were determined to shower her with presents that she was too young to comprehend. But not only that, but we also bought each other and other people presents that we pretended were from little Melanie and yes, that fourteen month-old baby was exceptionally generous!
The tree went up at the end of November and Melanie's eyes lit-up when she saw its twinkling glitter for the first time. She stared at it and chuckled in the musical way that babies always do when they see bright, colourful things for the first time.
Cards were sent, presents were purchased and the baby was amused by our genuine family Christmas. And watching her react to the tree and decorations made us feel as happy too.
Then it was the twentieth and Works' Party night... The company, as you will recall, was located in one of those minor Victorian stately homes. The house being equipped with large rooms, kitchens and a ballroom and it was the latter that was the party venue.
I am sure that you will have been to one of these events at sometime or other, staged as they are by grateful employers as a way of rewarding their employees and treating them to a celebratory meal and drinking session. What is unusual about the one hosted by Black Helix is that it was held on the company's premises and not in some hotel or other. Still. Wherever it was held made little difference as us employees carried on the age old Christmas tradition of getting drunk with a vengeance.
It was at this social gathering that I first became aware of Furukawa Ritsuko, daughter of the family that had founded the Japanese biotech company with which my employers had so recently merged.
I'm getting ahead of myself, however... I'd got this lesbian-thing running through my mind long before the Christmas party and consequently was fascinated by the whole idea. Fascinated to such an extent that I was getting the urge to tinker, and the only suitable thing to tinker with was my marriage.
I mulled it over... I had long dreaded the thought that Sandra might leave me for another man, or even that she might have an affair with one. Okay, so this is a common male preoccupation brought on by testosterone-fuelled insecurity and a general state of on-going sexual paranoia. Would she meet a man who could provide for her in ways that I couldn't hope to match?
He might be taller and better looking...
He might be suave and much wealthier...
He might be a better lover with a bigger dick...
Oh, God! I couldn't compete with any of the above! I would lose out every time as there was no way that I could compete in any of those categories.
Suddenly again my mind came back to my latest pre-occupation: what if he was a she?
I remembered that Sandra and I had discussed our sexuality: we'd both slept around a bit when we had been younger. There had been a few other girls that I'd had affairs with before I'd met Sandra. She also admitted to having slept with a few boys when she'd been in her teens.
“Did you ever have sex with another woman?” I had asked as a supplementary question. I remember asking this while preparing to dive for cover.
She hadn't been offended, however, she hadn't even retaliated by asking me if I'd ever had sex with another man. Instead she had given me a long, drawn out stare... One that seemed to look straight into the depths of my soul.
“Why do you ask?” She said in a very quiet voice.
“Just interested, that's all.” I said attempting to sound non-committal.
There was another pause. “Well there was a girl when I was at university. She was something special and I really thought that I'd met the one...”
We both fell silent at this point, both realising, no doubt, that we'd said too much. Oh I wanted to bombard he with questions... The girl... Who was she? What was she like? What did you do together? What was her name? Was she beautiful?
Sandra sensed my turmoil and smiled. “But it's you that I love. She couldn't have given me Melanie, could she?”
I should have let it rest but I didn't... I just had to tinker...
I began to look for signs that my wife was attracted to other woman. I watched her, I watched them. I took notice of expressions, of contacts, of body language. Did she stand particularly close to them? Did she make eye-contact and hold it? Did she show excessive affection?
To be honest, I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I was determined to find it.
A month or so later I pushed a little more. “You know, Sandra,” I said one evening when we were both relaxing after work, “if you ever felt that you needed to... to be close... close to another woman. I wouldn't be upset.”
She whipped around to face me so suddenly that her red-gold mane filled the whole of my vision for a split second. She stared up at me for a second or two, her expression hard and unreadable before her face dissolved into a warm smile. “That's really sweet of you, darling, but I've got you... You're exactly what I need.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I had initially thought that I had upset her. I smiled back, ducked down and kissed her. “Love you too, baby.”
That night, when we made love she was, if anything, more passionate than usual. In fact she was almost aggressive and orgasmed with an explosive scream that must have been audible across the street. Then she lay there gasping in a way that I'd never seen her behave before. Was there something wrong? I thought as I came down from my own high.
I leaned closer, the gasps were words. I listened. “Anne!” “Anne!” “Anne!” She gasped over and over again before eventually she became quiet and drifted off to sleep.
I lay there for sometime. Had I awakened something in Sandra? Who was Anne? Was Sandra really bisexual, just like that Canadian research claimed most women to be? Hell! Was she a lesbian who had only married me so that she could become a mother? Needless to say, I really needed to know.
5. Reaping the Whirlwind.
Christmas approached and I carried on tinkering. No, I hadn't put Sandra off and we carried on making love several times a week, though without the passion that she had shown on that fateful night and I was unsure as to whether she orgasmed or not, but being a selfish male this didn't seem to matter.
I dropped a few hints that I wouldn't stand in her way if she needed to have sex with another woman. I even left my laptop active and logged on to a lesbian sex channel: I know that she accessed it but she didn't say anything, or at least not directly. I even encouraged the lesbian couple in the HR office where I worked to put up more posters and suggested that they pin some up in the corridor outside my wife's lab.
Finally I got hold of a copy of Curve, a magazine for lesbians, and sent it to her anonymously in the internal post...
Affective? Who can say!
I loved my wife dearly but I also loved the thought of her making love to another woman.
As far as I could tell, nothing happened other than our love-making decreased from three times a week down to two and then to one.
“I'm too tired.” She said.
“I've got this awful headache.” She said.
I was sympathetic.
“I'm just not in the mood.” She said.
I sighed, rolled over and went to sleep.
“I'm worried that we might wake the baby.” She said.
This one caught me by surprise and I didn't know how to respond.
Then one night something strange happened. We hadn't made love for nearly three weeks and I was feeling the affects of abstinence... Still I had my imagination, my laptop and my right hand so I didn't get too frustrated...
That particular night I was lying awake, Sandra claimed to have a headache so I didn't push things and just lay there unmoving but wide awake. I guess she must have thought that I was asleep because she moved and gently slid out of bed. I still didn't react and there was enough moonlight coming in through the window to let me see what she was doing.
Initially I just thought that she was going to the toilet, or going to get a drink, or something: but she wasn't. Instead, she sank into the armchair that was in the corner of our bedroom, loosened her nightdress and slipped a hand down inside her panties. The hand began to move rhythmically. The other hand slid up under the nightdress and began to knead those fantastic breasts.
Sandra's headache had been too bad for her to make love to me but evidently not bad enough to prevent her making love to herself for I realised that she was masturbating.
After a good few minutes I saw her stiffen, heard a quiet gasp and then watched unmoving as she relaxed before slipping back into bed. Then, in less than a couple of minutes, I heard her breathing slow and deepen as she fell asleep.
What had I done?
And then came the night of the Christmas party. It was the 20th or the 21st of December, I can't remember which. The weather was cold and damp: so typical of Shropshire in late Autumn or early Winter. Still, we were used to it and weren't particularly put out by it for at least it wasn't snowing.
The meal was listed as seven thirty for eight: meaning that we should assemble or a drink at half past seven and be expected to be seated by eight. The management had employed a catering firm so that the kitchen staff could sit down with the rest of us and enjoy a traditional English Christmas dinner. There were perhaps a hundred and fifty of us seated around those various tables and the various departments usually stuck together although married couples, and there were a fair few working for the company tended to sit next to each other which is why I found myself in the company of a group of rowdy scientists and researchers, just like in previous years. The meal was good and the wine flowed freely, which is as it should be at a Christmas dinner however it is not this that I specifically remember.
After we had finished eating and were gathering around one of the various bars that had been set up for the night – we were in the stately home's ballroom after all. Everyone was merry, the remains of the meal had been cleared away, contractors were removing the tables and the DJ was setting up his equipment. I was feeling contented, decidedly merry and very full. I was also slightly drunk so didn't notice what was happening around me, or not initially.
The managing director was drifting around, wishing everyone a merry Christmas and thanking them for their sterling efforts over the previous year (sterling – his word, not mine). What I failed to notice was that he was not accompanied by his wife, not this year: instead a rather diminutive oriental-looking woman seemed to be following him around. I dismissed this and went back to the casual chat and banter that was occurring all around me.
Eventually the MD made his way over to the little group that contained both Sandra and myself. He wished us a Merry Christmas and received a series of cheery retorts and cat-calls for his trouble. He turned indicated the oriental woman. “I'd like you all to meet Ritsuko Furukawa from Japan. Her family has the majority shareholding in Furukawa Biotech who we are in the process of merging with.
“Ritsuko's a research scientist and is over here to coordinate our two research programs.” He said.
The doll-like Japanese woman gave us a jerky bow and smiled coyly.
The MD gestured towards Sandra before turning back towards Ritsuko and continuing. “This is Doctor Sandra Huntsman, she's heading up our non-functional Genome research project which I believe is your main field of interest?”
Ritsuko smiled. “Hai!” She almost barked as she bowed to my wife... Only the bow was lower this time.
“Pleased to meet you, Ritsuko,” Sandra said. “I expect we have a lot to discuss.” And extended her hand in a thoroughly European gesture.
Ritsuko straightened up and gazed at the hand for a second or two before grasping it. Next, she looked up and gazed at my wife. Their eyes met and they stared at each other for several seconds while still holding hands: their expressions softening as they did so.
“Now that I've got your attention,” the MD continued, “I'd like to emphasise just how important Doctor Furukawa's secondment is to the future of our company. I hope that you all listen to her and take notice of any advice or suggestions that she might have – and I mean any!”
We all nodded and made the right sort of corporate noises but as far as we were concerned, this was a Christmas party and Christmas was far more important than anything that management might or might not say!
The Managing Director hung around chatting to some of the researchers while Ritsuko and Sandra began discussing their work. I was no stranger to the way that scientists are compelled to discuss their field of expertise with just about anyone who understands them and is willing to listen... I was married to a scientist after all. I didn't interrupt but listened as I found myself fading into the background. Instead, I took the opportunity to watch and listen. Ritsuko was small, no more than five foot tall, she was slim with long lustrous black hair and an almost child-like figure: her breasts barely making their presence known while her face was honest and her eyes were almond shaped and a rich dark brown colour. It was, however, the intensity of her expression that I noticed as she maintained eye contact with Sandra.
Eventually my wife allowed me to join the conversation, or rather, she remembered that I existed.
“This is my husband, Robert.” She said introducing me to the black-haired woman.
Several expressions seemed to chase each other across the Japanese woman's face: surprise being among them. “Oh, sorry,” she said, “I must not monopolise your wife's company.” She said without much hint of an accent. “Please forgive me, Mr Huntsman.”
She paused. “I really must be getting back to my hotel...” She added hesitantly.
“Where are you staying?” I enquired.
Her eyes flickered from my face to my wife's and then back again. “Mynd House in Church Stretton.” She answered quietly.
“What are you doing for Christmas?” Sandra asked.
The black eyebrows seemed to flicker. “N-nothing, I am staying at the hotel.”
Sandra stared at me, her expression was almost pleading.
“Why don't you come and stay with us?” I blurted out so suddenly that I even took myself by surprise. “We've got a large house... Several spare bedrooms. We'd be happy for you to stay with us. Christmas away from home is bad enough... Christmas in a small hotel must be torture.”
Her eyes flicked up to Sandra's face once more. “I – I couldn't.” She said hesitantly. “It is too much of an imposition.” But her body language indicated that she couldn't believe her luck.
“We insist,” Sandra said, “don't we, Robert?”
“Oh, yes.” I said as images of the two of them making love flooded unbidden into my mind. “The pair of you will be able to discuss Genomes to your hearts' content. As long as you don't mind living under the same roof as a fourteen month old baby, that is.”
“You... Have a child?” Her eyes seemed to light up as her voice became all maternal.
“Yes, a little daughter.” I said proudly.
“Oh... How wonderful!” She stared up at my wife and smiled longingly. “I would be honoured to accept your kind invitation providing you allow me to contribute to the cost of my stay.”
And that was that, Ritsuko moved into our spare room the next day. Little did I know that our lives would never be the same again.
6. The Teriyaki Salmon, Saké and Panties.
Christmas came around with all of its traditional ramifications and underlying tensions. Melanie was now old enough to realise that something different... Something special was happening. Maybe she thought that this was the new-normal: the decorations; the fact that mummy and daddy were at home all day; the new woman in all of our lives and the frequent trips out as a family, I don't know – but she seemed to love it all, including the extra attention.
Ritsuko kept herself to herself for acouple of days as we all adjusted to her presence under our roof.
“I have no wish to disrupt your lives.” She said as she tried to fade into the background.
Sandra and I countered by trying to include her in everything that we did including inviting her to eat with us. Luckily she was familiar with English food so there was no problem on this account. In turn she treated us to a meal at a new Japanese restaurant in Birmingham, our usual baby-sitter was able to cover the evening so there were no problems and the three of us piled into Ritsuko's posh new car – a top of the range Volvo – for the trip.
I can't say that I was a big fan of Japanese food which came as quite a surprise. I guess that I was expecting something akin to the Chinese-takeaway cuisine that I enjoy... Not the under cooked, seafood-heavy menu that I was confronted with. Still the restaurant was a new experience as was the meal of many courses and it was here that we encountered a side of Ritsuko that I did not suspect existed... She had seemed such a submissive, quiet little thing, too.
Part way through the meal, just as the waiters were placing yet another fish-dish before us, she peered at and her entire manner changed. She suddenly jumped to her feet, glared at one of the waiters and barked out a rapid fire stream of Japanese at the unfortunate fellow. He seemed to shrink as he stepped back and bowed before scurrying away.
Ritsuko then turned back to us and instructed us to eat nothing. Next she glared at the other waiter, an English girl, who backed away, mumbled something and then almost ran towards the kitchen doors. All around us other diners began to pause their there eating and turned to look at the strange woman who was causing a scene. For other than some of the staff, she was the only Japanese person in the establishment.
Things happened... A Japanese man, his face livid, scurried out of the kitchen and headed towards our table and, by the way he was dressed in a traditional kimono, I assumed that he was the manager or owner or both.
Ritsuko never gave him a chance to introduce himself but pointed at the food on our table and rattled off another quick-fire burst of abrasive Japanese.
The man seemed to quiver as he looked at where she was pointing. He then listened to another outburst before firing one off of his own.
Ritsuko didn't back down, instead she snatched up a plate of seafood and thrust it into his hands.
He glared at her, looked at the plate and then sniffed it before barking, “Hai!”, and scurrying off into the kitchen with it.
Within a minute what seemed like the entire kitchen staff of cooks and chefs piled out of the door and walked slowly over to our table.
We're gonna be thrown out! I thought, but I was wrong. Instead they all lined up and bowed to Ritsuko, who naturally bowed back although hers was little more than a nod of the head. The chef said something conciliatory in Japanese but our friend answered him in a far from pleasant tone.
The manager also returned and he was accompanied by just about every waiter in the place: then, while they cleared and relaid our table the manager bowed low to us all. “Please accept my sincerest apologies for the unfortunate lapse in standards, that occurred during the preparation of your meal.” He said in slightly accented English. “I do hope that your evening has not been spoiled, there will of course be no charge for the meal or saké.”
He bowed again, as did the entire kitchen staff who trooped off back to the kitchen. The chef didn't look too happy but remained silent non-the-less. After replacement food had been placed before us I questioned Ritsuko about what had just happened.
She looked across to my wife. “I apologise for involving you both in that unfortunate incident, but the teriyaki salmon was unfit to be served. I could not risk your displeasure so had to act.”
“But the shouting...” Sandra mused.
Ritsuko smiled. “I had to let him know that I am Samurai so that he could back down and apologise without losing face in front of his staff.”
Bemused by Japanese social interactions, I began to tuck into the substitute course which really was tasty, despite my lack of familiarity with the food. “So, I take it that you will not be eating here again.”
She smiled. “On the contrary. This really is a first-class establishment, despite the décor...” She indicated the pictures and the shoji panels that lined the walls. “...it would be silly not to visit the establishment again and besides, we will receive extra special treatment whenever we do.”
The rest of the meal passed without incident other than the constant reappearances of the manager who kept enquiring nervously whether everything was to our liking.
Christmas day came and presents were exchanged: a tradition that Ritsuko embraced with enthusiasm. Silk kimonos for both Sandra and myself and a whole avalanche of Japanese-style dolls, hair-ties and other little things for Melanie.
In return the gifts Ritsuko received were almost mundane: some head-scarves, chocolates, a desk-planner and a leather-bound copy of the complete works of William Shakespeare. (Don't ask me whose idea the latter one was – it sort of happened).
Of course she gave us the impression that these were things that she had always wanted and couldn't live without!
Sandra's and my presents to each other were much of a traditional muchness, except for one small package that I received. I opened it and peered inside at several sets of brightly coloured silk lady's panties. “Sandra,” I said in a bemused voice, “I think you might have wrapped these by mistake.”
Sandra and Ritsuko made eye contact with each other and then both smiled knowingly. My wife then turned to me. “No mistake.” She said.
I felt a chill run down my spine. “Oh?”
“As you are the only male living in a mainly female household, we thought that you might like to get in touch with your feminine side – every man has one after all. The panties seemed like a good place for you to start.” Sandra purred.
I guess that I must have done a pretty good impression of a goldfish as I tried to follow what she had said.
“Getting in touch with your inner femme will help you achieve a better understanding of the women around you.” My wife added by way of an explanation but I couldn't help but notice that there was now an edge to her voice.
“Besides, you want a better understanding of women. Don't you, Robert?” Ritsuko added sweetly as she handed me a glass of very potent saké.
Somewhat shocked, I downed the rice wine in one gulp, coughed, and wondered what I had let myself in for.
7. Storm Warning.
The rest of the day drifted by without any further surprises: meals were the standard Christmas fare that has long been popular in the UK which Ritsuko seemed to enjoy. She did however insist on doing her bit in the clearing away afterwards even though both my wife and myself tried to tell her that, as our guest, this was not necessary. No, Ritsuko seemed determined to 'fit-in', which was nice of her: she even insisted upon playing her part in helping to care for baby Melanie. Actually this latter was pretty popular with both of us as a fourteen month old still needs a lot of cleaning, bathing and generally looking after.
All in all, it was a quiet Christmas as neither of our families lived within easy visiting distance. The only other surprise came when the three of us were siting in the drawing room after the evening meal. Melanie had been put to bed, toddlers still need a great deal of sleep, remember? We had been sitting and chatting... The TV was on, as it usually is these days, but neither of us was paying it any particular attention. I suppose that we had been there for about an hour: talking about nothing in particular when the subject of femininity came up.
Whether by chance or by as a result of a concerted effort by the ladies, I'm not sure although, looking back, I rather suspect the latter. The ladies suddenly exchanged a knowing look and Ritsuko excused herself to go and check on the baby.
Suddenly Sandra turned to me. “I expect you to wear a pair of those panties tomorrow, sweetie.”
I almost choked on my beer. “You what? I thought that they were some kind of joke present.”
“Joke? I'll have you know that silk panties of that quality are very expensive.” She replied huffily. “Or do you think that femininity is some kind of a joke?”
“What... No! Of course not!” I sputtered, my head spinning with uncertainty.
“I'm glad that you agree with me.” She purred.
I relaxed a little. “But panties...?”
“They'll help put you in touch with your inner woman.” She said quietly.
“But... But...” I said trying to find a thread that made sense in what was transpiring.
She smiled again. “After all you've been trying to put me in touch with my inner lesbian for months now.” She reached under her chair and extracted the copy of 'Curve' that I'd sent her anonymously, it looked well thumbed. “Thank you for this, it certainly was an eye-opener.”
“But... But...” I said once more as I felt a rising tide of panic.
“You clearly do not understand women, sweetie, so we will open your eyes, just like you opened mine.” Her voice was calm but determined.
Ritsuko chose this moment to glide back into the room, but this time she sat down on the sofa right next to my wife.
She looked up at me and gave me a piercing look. “You are clearly not some kind of chauvinist so I know that you really want to learn about women and about how we see things.”
“You do, don't you, Sweetie?” Sandra asked.
Head spinning, I did my best to answer. “Well... Yes... Of course I do. You know that.” I almost whined.
Ritsuko smiled. “And to understand women you need to learn to think as we do.”
We made eye contact, her brown eyes suddenly seeming very large, captured and held my gaze. Thoughts didn't run through my mind... Instead, they seemed to gallop. Was I really so ignorant about women? Well yes, it appeared so as I had not seen this coming. Mesmerised, I just sat there staring while both of them carried on the conversation without me.
“An understanding of women is important thing for every modern man to have...” Sandra said.
“...and you are a modern man, aren't you, Robbie?” Ritsuko said, finishing my wife's sentence for her.
I tried to hide behind me glass of beer, quite unsuccessfully as it turned out.
“Aren't you, Sweetie?” Sandra almost growled.
I nodded. “'Sss.” I agreed, spluttering slightly in my haste to back myself out of the nightmare that was engulfing me.
“Good!” The pair of them purred in harmony.
“And we are going...” Said Ritsuko.
“...to help you understand...” Continued Sandra.
“...what it means to be a woman.” Ritsuko concluded with a knowing smile.
Slowly the two of them turned towards each other, embraced and then kissed. Only it wasn't a sisterly kiss, it was a full-on eyes-closed, mouths-wide, tongues-out, sexual kiss that lasted for over a minute. There was quiet moaning too... Gob-smacked, I sat watching in disbelief. This is what I had been trying to manoeuvre my wife into for several months and I'd succeeded. I'd actually succeeded in bringing out what Sandra had referred to as her 'inner lesbian'. Strangely enough. However, I didn't have a feeling of inner triumph: it was more like one of inner dread. What had I done?
My mental turmoil subsided somewhat as the kiss came to an end and the women moved apart. I should have kept quiet, I really should, but I realised that something had stirred down in the depths of my underpants and I was the possessor of one of those spontaneous amd highly inconvenient erections that tend to inflict us younger males. I shuffled and leant forward in an effort to hide the evidence of my arousal.
“Sorry.” I said.
Ritsuko and Sandra also noticed and the latter pointed it out by saying. “Well I can see that little Mister Happy approves.”
Ritsuko smiled. “Don't be embarrassed, Robbie dear: it's a normal reaction and quite beyond your control so it's nothing to be ashamed of.”
If anything, her understanding seemed to make things worse. “Nnng!” I said and tried once more to hide the evidence.
“Oh don't be silly, Sweetie. You're a normal heterosexual male so there is no way that you are able to control what goes on inside your trousers any more than you can control your feelings.” Sandra chuckled.
“That's a major difference between men and women,” Ritsuko added, “women have to learn how to control the way they respond.”
“If you are going to understand what it means to be a woman, you will have to learn how to control things like that.” Sandra said nodding towards my nether regions by way of a conclusion.
“And you want us to teach you how to do that don't you, Robbie?” The Japanese woman purred.
“You want to learn what it takes to be a woman, don't you sweetie?” My wife added using a similar voice.
Dumbfounded and completely overawed, I nodded franticly and just stared at them.
“Goooood!” They said, once more in complete harmony.
“We'll help you become a woman.” Ritsuko added with a wide Cheshire-Cat smile.
Unfortunately I was too in awe of the pair of them that I completely missed her subtle change of direction.
We sat quietly for sometime and one of them refilled my glass without my noticing. Gradually my inner turmoil subsided and my thoughts became more coherent. “Er, the panties... How will they help me to understand... Women?”
Ritsuko smiled again. “Oh they'll serve to remind you that you need to sit on the toilet to pee, Robbie dear, no woman would ever dream of standing to sprinkle all over the floor in the disgusting way that you men do.”
Was it my imagination or did she make the word 'men' sound as if it was unclean ? I nodded, not because I agreed: I didn't. But I did feel trapped. Instead of arguing against what I was being manoeuvred into, I just let my mouth run away with me. “But... The lady's underwear... What if somebody sees?”
Sandra leaned forward. “Oh? And just who are you planning on showing them too?”
“But... But... I'll look silly wearing them!” I said snatching at a non-existent thread of logic.
“Sandra and I wear them,” Ritsuko said menacingly, “do we look silly?”
“N-no! But you are women!” I said as I dug myself in deeper.
“Ah, you've noticed,” Sandra said as she took another sip of wine, “and now you are going to learn what that means!”
Nothing else happened that day and Sandra and I went up to bed as usual... Actually we must have both been turned on by the evenings developments and we made love for the first time in weeks. Sandra had one of her explosive orgasms once more and I really hoped that her scream didn't disturb Ritsuko or the baby.
Next morning Sandra woke me by nibbling my ear. “Time to get up, lazy bones.”
We showered as usual, Sandra first, then me and I came back into the bedroom to dress. However when I opened my underwear draw I saw that it was empty: empty that is, except for the half dozen pairs of ladies' silk panties.
“Sandra, where are my boxers?” I asked dreading her answer.
She was fiddling with her hair and didn't bother to turn towards me.. “Those dreadful baggy things have gone for good: your underwear is in the draw, just like it always is.”
I gingerly lifted a pair of lime-green silk panties out and held them up. They were smooth, slightly shiny and very light. I froze.
“Put them on, Sweetie.” My wife said quietly.
“Why do you keep calling me 'sweetie'?” I suddenly asked.
She smiled. “Because I love you; now put them on!”
There was no alternative so I gingerly stepped into them and pulled them up. They were a snug fit and surprisingly comfortable or would have been if last night's little problem had not reoccurred.
“I see that your little Willy likes your new panties, sweetie.” Sandra purred. “But you really must learn to control him, otherwise he'll spoil the look of your new clothes.”
8. All Change..
This is where the changes remained for the moment and the fact that I heard no more about it during the holiday period gave me hope that the ladies were losing interest. Ritsuko seemed to take an interest in just about everything else, however: the house, our daughter, cleaning, the garden... Everything.
As far as household routine was concerned, she joined in without being asked and insisted in doing her far share of even the most mundane things such as dusting, vacuuming, laundry, washing-up and so on. For a young lady from a privileged background she was certainly no stranger to housework and not only did she do her share but, by her example and a few well-chosen words of encouragement, she encouraged me to do mine.
Her enthusiasm in looking after our little Melanie also new no bounds and she delighted in showering the little one with gifts such as the gorgeous silver and gold mobile that now hung over our daughter's crib. She also seemed happy to take her turn in seeing too the baby when ever she awoke in distress during the night... Sure, this didn't happen as often as it used too when Melanie was younger, but even a fifteen month old needs a nappy changing from time to time and Ritsuko took her turn as far as this less than pleasant chore was concerned.
In fact she went as far as paying for a state of the art intercom and baby alarm system to be be installed which wasn't cheap as it required a partial rewiring of our fifty year old house. How she persuaded an electrical contractor to do the job during the Christmas holidays I'll never know, but she did and the job was done discretely and within three days. The net result being small terminals in all of the rooms which allowed Melanie to be monitored from everywhere in the house.
When I pointed out that the new system wouldn't be needed for much longer she had just smiled and shrugged before informing me that it was actually a computer network and so could be adapted top serve as a domestic entertainment system and pipe videos and music around the house and that it would provide a telephone extension and a computer access point in every room, should we so wish it.
She paid for other modifications too, her room was converted into a combined bedroom and home office and it was here that the server for the home network was located. And judging by the appearance of the thing, it was a seriously powerful rig.
The other spare bedroom, the one that had served as a junk storage room was the next thing to attract Ritsuko's attention. “Since I have occupied your guest room you have nowhere suitable for, well, guests!” She had observed.
She had then helped us to sort out the stuff that had been left in there and helped us to transport the broken stuff to the dump... The useable items either being taken to a charity shop or were passed on to other people. She then set about redecorating the room for us – sure, the pale pinks that she chose weren't my idea of home décor but her explanation that they were hard-wearing and easy on the eye made sense. Unfortunately it was sometime before I realised that the room had also been sound-proofed into the bargain but by then I was past asking questions about whatever it was that she was doing.
There had been one further change during that fateful holiday and that one was of a more personal nature. I've already noted that our sex-life had altered over the year and said how my wife avoided sex thanks to a long series of headaches amongst other things. Well this trend had been reversed for a short time after I had begun to wear ladies' panties, when, out of the blue, Sandra had seemed to want sex almost every night. I remember thinking at the time that this was too good to be true and unfortunately, I was suddenly proved right.
I remember the night very well, Sandra didn't actually get into bed but instead, lay down on top of the duvet. “Why don't we spice things up by trying something different?” She suggested.
“Um, alright, I'm game,” I said, “what have you in mind?”
She smiled one of her beautiful smiles and wriggled out of her sleep-panties before spreading her legs wide. “Why don't we try oral?”
I was gob-smacked... She'd never suggested anything like this before. “Um...” I hesitated. “What do we do.”
Sandra smiled again. “It's simple, sweetie, just press your mouth against my pussy-lips and lick... I'll tell you what to do as we go along.”
Hesitantly I looked at her. "Um... but we've never done that. I not sure I like the idea of putting my mouth down there."
"Well I never liked the idea of you sticking your little Willie inside me and filling me with your slimy mess.” She said huffily. “Perhaps we should just forget about sex."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing and panicked. "But I want to keep having sex with you Sandra."
She smiled again, but her expression was harder now. “Well there's more to sex than you pounding my pussy with that thingy of yours. You keep going until you come and then pull out before I do... What you've been doing too me is just plain selfish!”
“I... I'm sorry, darling. I didn't realise that you weren't getting pleasure out of it.” I apologised.
“So let's give oral a try... Lots of married couples do it, so why not us?” She said quietly and raised her knees invitingly.
“Okay... If that's what you want...” I said hesitantly.
"Good girl. Now do as I say and get your face between my legs, sweetie, and kiss my pussy. I'm sure we'll both just love it."
Although the thought of going down on her didn't seem right, I did as she asked. as
suspected that she really would refuse to have sex if I didn't. As I ducked down, she used her hands to guide my face to her pussy. I wasn't sure what to do, but Sandra guided me with words of encouragement and little moans of pleasure.
Much to my surprise, I found her to be wet and slippery down there. Soon my cheeks were pressed tightly against her inner thighs as my lips and tongue explored her pussy.
It took awhile but she came and came hard, her pussy squirting a fair amount of liquid into my mouth and onto my face as she did so. She sighed and told me just how wonderful it had been and made sure that I knew just how much she appreciated my effort. I pulled away carefully and moved up beside her and we slipped into bed.
“What about me, Sandra?” I asked hopefully as my close contact with her beautiful pussy had left me with an almost painful erection.
“Mmm, what about you, sweetie/” She asked teasingly.
“Don't I get to cum?” I asked. “After all you said that we were going to do oral.”
She smiled. “Well we have, haven't we?” She sighed. “I'm too tired for anything else tonight, so why don't you sit in the armchair and bring yourself off – but be careful not to make make a mess on the carpet.”
“Sandra!” I gasped in surprise.
“It's just a suggestion, sweetie: I'd hate to see you get all frustrated.” She rolled over and smiled at me. “Besides, I'd just love to watch you doing it!”
My surprise at her suggestion actually caused me to lose the erection so I rolled over and pretended to fall asleep.
Next morning she surprised me again... The three of us were sitting around the table in the kitchen enjoying a late breakfast when Sandra suddenly asked. “Well did you enjoy our oral sex session, sweetie?”
I was horrified, partly by the bluntness of her question, but mainly by the fact that Ritsuko was sitting there with us... What on Earth was she going to think? I looked across at my wife and hesitated. Eventually I plucked up the courage to answer. “Yes!” I said quietly and nodded for emphasis.
I really had to say 'yes' for I suspected that Sandra would refuse to have sex with me in future if I''d have said 'no'.
My wife smiled one of her beautiful smiles. “That's wonderful and because you like it so much, we'll make it our normal method of having sex from now on!”
I sighed but as I did so I caught sight of Ritsuko's smile and the glint in her eye. Suddenly I was pretty sure that our house guest knew exactly what was going on and somehow this was all part of me finding my inner woman.
Soon it was the new year and time to go back to work. The Christmas holiday, thanks to Ritsuko, had been pretty hectic and, thanks to her sense of direction, quite fulfilling. I had queried me going back into the office wearing women's underwear and so had made my feelings known. But if I am honest, it was only a minor objection as I had come to like the smooth, cool feeling that the panties gave me.
I half expected everyone to know what I was wearing but if I had thought about it rationally, I would have realised that there was no way that they could tell. The only time that they were visible was when I was taking a leek and that had to be done with me sitting in one of the stalls behind a closed door. So my little secret was quite safe!
9. The Changes Accelerate.
It didn't stop with panties and somehow I wasn't surprised. Once we were back at work Sandra began to insist on further alterations. Initially these were just to my clothing but soon they began to encompass my appearance and my body.
Sure, it was all down to me learning to understand women so I went along with it. Sandra had got me to sit down when I needed to piss and that was a female thing. She'd shown me how to please her orally which she loved but left me sexually frustrated which I suspected was a feminine thing... She'd pointed out that she had rarely orgasmed so I suppose we were quits!
What's going to be next? I wondered...
It was stockings and a suspender belt and she was none too subtle about it either.
It was early in the evening and we'd gone up to our bedroom on some pretext or other, I remember that I was feeling rather tired – it was only the second day back at work so I was still adjusting to the daily grind. Things weren't as hectic as they had been just after the merger, but I was still tired non-the-less. I assumed that it was work but, looking back, the wine that I'd drunk with my dinner had had a rather cloying taste...
“I need to show you something.” Sandra had said rather non-committally and I had followed her upstairs leaving Ritsuko playing with little Melanie on the lounge floor.
Once upstairs Sandra had asked me about the panties... How was I finding them? Where they comfortable? Had anyone noticed? That sort of thing.
I'd informed her that they were okay, which was a non-committal answer – well I wasn't going to tell her that I actually liked them, was I?
She moved across to her dressing table and took something out of one of the draws. I saw that it was a pair of nylon stockings, still in their packet and a little garment made of some sort of smooth fabric. “Okay,” she said, “I'd like you to try these on.”
Then she got me to strip down to my panties before showing me the correct way to put the stockings on. Next came the other item of clothing which proved to be a suspender belt. “You'll need this to hold them up properly. Stockings will ride down without something holding them up.” She informed me.
Lastly came the panties. “Wear these on top otherwise spending a penny will be a real pain.” She got me to stand and took a good look at my nylon clad legs. “Not bad! In fact you've got nice legs for a boy: haven't you, Sweetie?”
“Are you expecting me to wear these at work tomorrow?” I asked, fearing the worst.
She didn't answer but instead got me to turn around slowly so that she could see me from all angles. When I next faced her I saw that she was frowning. “What's wrong?”
She grimaced. “That bulge your little thingie makes... It will spoil the lines of every thing that you wear. We really must do something about it.”
Suddenly a bright flash lit up the room, it came from somewhere behind me. “And we will!” Came a menacing answer,
I spun around and saw that Ritsuko was standing in the doorway holding her phone which flashed again.
“As for the stockings, you will wear them from now on, Sweetie, at work, at home and when we go out.” Sandra chuckled. “Stockings are now the new normal as far as you are concerned.”
“But... But someone will see!” I almost wailed.
“Very likely, but I doubt if it will register... Human beings only see what they expect too.” Ritsuko said as she came into the room and showed my wife the two pictures that she'd taken. The two women then examined my legs closely while I tried not to get hard.
“What do you think?” Sandra asked but the question was not aimed at me,
“Nice legs, but too hairy!” Ritsuko observed before moving on to the rest of my anatomy. “Are all European men covered in monkey-hair like your Robbie?”
Sandra nodded. “Most are.”
“But how do women cope with it?” She asked.
“Some actually like it.” Sandra said.
“Weird!” The Japanese woman said sounding both surprised and disgusted. She frowned and then smiled. “Luckily I have something that will cure him... It's a depilatory gel that we are developing in out Yokohama labs. There are a few problems, but nothing that need worry us.”
“Problems?” I almost shrieked as they began to remove my underwear. “What sort of problems?”
“Hush, Sweetie,” Sandra chided, “she's just winding you up – it's perfectly safe so just stand still while we rub it in.”
I should have objected but didn't... For some reason I was light-headed and relaxed... My wife had my best interests at heart... Well she did... Didn't she? So I just stood there, Naked and embarrassed while they played with me as if I was some sort of doll who only existed for their amusement. Even my slightest movement was met by a command to keep still, a command that I unthinkingly obeyed as they rubbed and massaged and patted the whole of my anatomy from just under below my grey eyes to the tops of my size ten feet. Every square centimetre... Every nook... Every cranny... The whole of my body, except for my scalp, was covered in that strange-smelling paste by my loving wife and the woman who I suspected was about to become her lover.
They worked for ten or fifteen minutes before stopping and stepping back to examine what they had done to me. Ritsuko seemed to be in-charge now and it was she who would step forward occasionally and apply yet more of the gel to the small areas that she suspected had been missed: she paid particular attention to my genitals: my penis, which was hairless and my scrotum, which wasn't.
I didn't move, I didn't flinch, I didn't object: I just resigned myself to whatever it was that they were doing. When Ritsuko was sure that they had finished they waited for the stuff to dry, which happened surprisingly quickly, although whether it dried or was absorbed by my skin I don't know. I guess it was the latter because of the speed that it worked. For suddenly I noticed that the smell had changed: it had gone from something floral to something acrid, something rather liked burned hair.
“Okay, Robbie dear, into the shower with you.” Ritsuko instructed in a no-nonsense voice and began to shed her clothing too.
Once we were in the cubicle, which was rather large – the previous owner of the house must have believed that 'a family that bathes together stays together'... Ritsuko began to wash me very gently but thoroughly, working shower gel into just about every fold and crevice that she could find. Eventually, when she was satisfied, she ushered me out and wrapped me up in the largest towel that we had.
As I was being dried by Sandra I ventured a question. “I say, you were joking about side effects, weren't you?”
By now Ritsuko had dropped her towel and begun to dress, she suddenly stopped, looked me straight in the eye and laughed. “No!”
“What?” I squalled.
She pulled my towel off and began to examine my now-hairless skin, ignoring my protests as she did so.
I pushed her away. “What side-effects?”
The small women spun around, the golden skin on her face darkening. Suddenly her arm moved so fast that it seemed like a blur as she slapped my face hard enough to rattle my teeth. “Don't ever touch me without my permission.” She snarled.
Then with tears in my eyes, I stepped back and submissively pushed my arms into the sleeves of the girlie-pink bathrobe that my wife was holding out.
Calm once more, Ritsuko stepped forward and pointed to my genitals. “You asked us to show you what it feels like to be a woman so that you can learn about the things that we have to put up with in this world of chauvinistic males.”
I nodded dumbly.
“Well,” she said, her voice taking on a more triumphant tone, “women do not have one of these silly things, do they?”
I shook my head as I pulled the fluffy pink robe closed.
“The various enzymes, hormones and hormone-blockers in the gel do more than permanently remove all body hair, they also thin the skin and make it softer and more sensitive – in effect it becomes a woman's skin.
“But that's not the only thing... It has an interesting affect on male genitalia too: it causes them to shrink. In a month's time everything will be about the same size as it was when you were five years old.” She was laughing now and suddenly grabbed my penis through the overlap at the front of the robe, she squeezed it gently causing it to twitch and then begin to harden. “Oh it will work quite well even if it does shrink. Or at least it will until Sandra and I decide that we no longer have any use for it: when that happens I will have it made permanently soft and totally harmless.
“Imagine! No more embarrassing erections at inconvenient times... No more smelly slime squirting out... No more sweaty crotches in hot weather... No more forcing it into poor Sandra... Won't that wonderful?”
I was too shocked to answer her, instead I turned to face Sandra who was grinning like a Halloween pumpkin. “You... You knew?”
“Of course I did!” She hugged me comfortingly. “We don't need it for oral sex, so what use is it?”
I should have screamed.
I should have shouted.
I should have reasserted myself as a man and the head of the family...
I should have thrown that Japanese bitch out...
Instead, I just burst into tears.
10. Gale Force Winds.
The next few days served to prove that Ritsuko was right for nobody seemed to notice that I was wearing ladies' stockings. The gap between the top of my shoes and the bottom of my trousers was surely visible when ever I sat down, but, as I said, nobody seemed to notice. Or did they?
It was the second day that I was wearing them that I began to suspect that everyone knew but they were just to damned politically correct to comment!
What led me to this conclusion? Simple! I noticed peoples eyes flick down and then back up to my face. It was a rapid movement and at first I thought that I was imagining it but by the second day back I knew that I wasn't.
However I didn't have much time to dwell upon other peoples attitudes at work for the changes at home continued and didn't leave me time to worry about outsiders.
Three days after she had removed my body hair, Sandra made the next change to my dress-code: a bra to match my panties!
I remember the moment that I was confronted by the alien garment...
I was sitting on the side of our bed while getting dressed under my wife's supervision and was wearing just the stockings and suspender-belt with a pair of miniscule lilac panties over everything: my shrinking male parts being tucked back so as to make the smallest possible bulge. It was then that Ritsuko stepped into the room.
“Have you told her yet?” She asked.
Her? I quailed for I knew that I was the 'her' to whom she referred.
Suddenly Sandra bent down and kissed me on the top of my head. “Um, not yet,” she chuckled, “but now is as good a time as any.”
“Tell me what?” I demanded, my voice quivering slightly as my anxiety levels rose.
“From tonight, you'll be sleeping in the spare bedroom. As I'll only need you to come in here when you pleasure me, there's no longer any need for you to sleep here – besides you'll find it easier to adapt once you have your own room and have made a new start.”
She chose that moment to hand me a bra that matched my panties. “Here,” she said with a smile, “we've been looking forward to seeing you in one of these.”
Numbly I accepted it for, with my whole world crashing down around my ears, the bra was little more than the cherry on top of things: too small a thing for me to bother about. I sighed and began to fiddle with the garment and managed to fasten it behind my back on the third attempt.
“Very good!” Purred Ritsuko as I pulled up the shoulder straps. “That was impressive. Very few women can do that: most would have to fasten it at the front and then twist it around into the correct position.”
Sandra reached down and gently squeezed the flesh that had been forced into the little cups. I seemed to have real breasts. “This is only an 'A' cup so don't worry, it probably won't show through your shirt!”
Together they helped me get dressed and then escorted me down to breakfast.
“You may have noticed that the underwear that you are now wearing is only cheap cotton. Your body is going to change a lot over the next few months so we'll wait until it does before splashing out on some decent clothes.” Smirked my wife. “You know: you'll look fantastic when it's all over, I bet you are really looking forward to becoming a woman.”
Ritsuko suddenly leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Well we're really looking forward to it even if you're not, but then that's all that matters, isn't it?”
She leaned back. “I'm going to stay at home today and get your new room ready for you: you'd like that, wouldn't you?”
I didn't, but felt that I had no choice. I frowned and wondered why I was taking everything so calmly. I was being forced into women's clothing; my body was being altered I was being forcibly feminized: yet I was taking it in my stride... Why?
I should have been resisting... Fighting against what was being done too me but I wasn't... I was letting them do whatever the hell they wanted. What's wrong with me?
So, having no choice in the matter, I let Sandra drive me to work as always: here we parted. Me to the admin wing and my wife to the labs where she worked. Once behind my desk, armed with a coffee, I began to lose myself in my work as I checked holiday entitlement, and reviewed and updated staff records as per usual. The banality of my job serving to distract me from the changes both in my clothing and at home.
There were further changes too, work related ones: changes that I was only made aware of when my boss: the personnel manager called all administrative staff, both junior and senior, together in the admin wing restaurant.
“I've got some good news for you all.” She said happily. “The merger between our Black Helix and Furukawa Biotech has gone through successfully which means that all of your jobs are secure for the foreseeable future.”
There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief from the gathered staff, a sigh which, without thinking, I added too. I looked around and exchanged grins with my colleagues. It was at this point that I realised something fundamental about Black Helix... About seventy per cent of the staff were women. Why haven't I noticed that before? I wondered.
The Personnel manager waited for the ensuing babble to die down and then continued. “In the interests of expediting the merger, some members of staff employed on this site will be transferred across to Furukawa Biotech's payroll. But don't worry, ladies and gentlemen, this is purely an administrative matter and you won't be moving to Yokohama – or at least, not yet!” She then chuckled to show that the last bit was a joke.
She then read out the names of a dozen staff across management, IT, accounts, payroll and human resources who were to be transferred... For some reason I was not surprised when I heard my name appended to the list. “From now on you are employees of Furukawa Biotech and will be answerable to Ms Ritsuko Furukawa directly although terms and conditions of employment will remain unaltered.”
The personnel manager then looked at me directly. “You must have impressed her, Robert, as she asked for you by name and asked me to inform you that you are also to receive a promotion. The Japanese tend to structure their organisations around what we refer to as 'Human Resources' so I am to inform everyone that Mr Robert Huntsman is the designated manager of the Admin section of the UK branch of Furukawa Biotech. Congratulations, Robert, I believe that we will be working closely together during the next phase of the reorganisation.”
I smiled back and thanked her... Largely to hide the turmoil that was going through my mind. Sure, I had been promoted, but at the cost of being under Ritsuko's thumb at work as well as at home.
And speaking of home, I was shown up to what was now my bedroom as soon as the two of us arrived there that afternoon. Ritsuko seemed very pleased with herself as she gestured for me to enter which I did, looking around in astonishment as I opened the door.
I paused just inside the doorway and, even though I felt as if the large cold stone in my stomach was causing it to sink, I gasped in astonishment for the room hadn't looked like this when Ritsuko had helped us to tidy it up a week or so before... It certainly had been a pale pink but hadn't it held the bed that it now did... A bed that looked like one of the high-tech things that are normally found in a hospital intensive care unit – although such beds are not normally pink.
“I hate pink!” I muttered and carried on looking around.
There was a well-stocked dressing table and a couple of large wardrobes... Dressing table? I thought. What the hell do I need one of those for?
I opened one of the wardrobes and found that it contained a few items of ladies clothing as well as the male clothes that I was used too... Or should I say, some of my male cloths.
“Where's the rest?” I asked in a bemused voice.
“The charity shop!” Ritsuko answered gleefully. “The rest will go there in about a fortnight... When you have finished transitioning, that is!”
I wasn't the only one to change bedrooms that day – Ritsuko did so too when she took my place in with Sandra: she even allowed my to help her move her things in there!
11. The Storm Breaks.
Things calmed down until Friday morning when the ladies took me to work wearing very light make-up and although I protested, they didn't seem to hear me.
“But I look ridiculous!” I said even though I knew that I didn't as the effects produced were very subtle: the foundation, light blusher and the touch of eye-shadow serving to highlight my features rather than create an illusion of femininity.
“Don't fuss so!” Ritsuko instructed and after a pause added. “There's no need to get upset... I've put the word around – everyone is aware that you are transitioning.”
And that is supposed to make me feel better!?! I thought anxiously.
However by the time that we had arrived in the senior management parking area, with its designated spaces, I was calmer. No one would pass any comments – insulting or otherwise because there jobs would be on the line if they did. I had the full protection of British employment law which, as a trained and experienced personnel officer, I was conversant with.
However I made an effort to keep out of the way and others seemed happy to respect my space. I received few visitors to my new office during the morning and the ones that came into my office only remained there long enough to complete their business. The net result was that, by lunchtime, I had completed most of what needed doing and was feeling a little isolated, so instead of eating at my desk as I usually did, I headed out to the Admin wing dining room and the company of my colleagues.
As far as I could tell the attention that I received was either neutral or supportive.
“Robert, if there's anything that me and my wife can do to help, please let us know.” That was Tanya, one of the married lesbians who I mentioned earlier.
“Robert, if you get any problems from Black Helix, staff, just let me know.” That was Andrea, the Personnel Manager, and my former boss who then added. “And I'm sure that Ritsuko will deal with anyone on the Furukawa Biotech payroll who does or says something silly... She's a formidable lady, that one!”
I thanked everyone who spoke to me while I was eating my sandwiches; everyone either avoided me or was pleasantly supportive... Suddenly things didn't seem so bad and I was almost looking forward to fully transitioning. But suddenly one of those little nagging doubts sprang into my mind. Why the hell am I taking this so calmly?
After lunch I rushed over to Ritsuko's office and burst in without knocking. Then, despite my unannounced intrusion, the Japanese lady looked up and smiled at me. “Just give me a second, Robert.”
She then turned back to the two behavioural scientists who she was in conference with and said. “My Chief Executive needs to see me urgently, he wouldn't interrupt us like this if it wasn't something important, so please excuse us.”
After they had trooped out, glaring at me as they passed by, Ritsuko gestured to the vacated seat nearest her desk and as I sank into it she got up and made me a coffee. Then handing it to me smiled. “What's the crisis: by your expression it is serious?”
I sipped the coffee and got my thoughts together. “You've been drugging me, haven't you?” I snapped.
She sighed but neither her expression nor her voice altered. “Are you happy, Robert?”
Her lack of adverse reaction regarding my intrusion kind of took the wind out of my sails and I just stared at her open mouthed.
“You are happy, aren't you Robert?” She purred in a disconcerting way.
I swallowed some of the coffee and tried to recapture the mood that had possessed me when I had burst in, but found that I couldn't. “Well.. Yes! But that's irrelevant. Are you feeding me drugs to calm me down?”
Her smile never faltered as she said. “Of course I am, silly girl, in fact there are several things in the coffee that you are drinking including a mild tranquillizer and a will suppressant. Now finish your coffee like a good girl and think about things. When you do you'll see that you are worrying unduly.”
“I – I'm not a girl...” I said as I found myself relaxing.
She chuckled. “Details! Details!” Then she became a little more serious. “Now, as you finish your coffee, answer me this: are these changes exactly what you want? You have always dreamed of being a girl, so while they take place would you rather be relaxed and happy or stressed and anxious?”
I felt a cold finger ran down my spine and shivered. I gradually became calmer as I placed my empty cup back on its saucer for I knew that I could trust Ritsuko... She was only doing what my wife and myself had asked her.
Both Sandra and myself wanted me to become female after all, so why was I wasting Ritsuko's time?
Later that evening I was dressed in my pink baby-doll night dress, lying in my pink bed in my pink bedroom. I was completely relaxed and just on the point of drifting off to sleep, aided by the gentle music and the soothing voice that emanated from the pink speakers that were built into the bed-head.
...The music is something orchestral that rises and falls like waves on a shingle shore while the voice, the loving female voice is telling me how relaxed and how sleepy I am...
...I listen to the lady, relieved because she clearly cares about me...
“You love pink.” She says. “You love pink, don't you, Roberta?”
“Girls are wonderful, aren't they Roberta?” She continues.
...The music rises and falls and the notes die away just leaving that wonderful tidal hiss that rises and falls...
“Close your eyes, Roberta.” The wonderful lady instructs me. “You are sooo tired, just close your eyes and sleep.”
Although I feel sleep fast approaching, I have a vague recollection of hearing the voice on previous nights and an even vaguer realisation that I will not remember it come morning.
“You love wearing girls' clothes don't you, Roberta?” The lady continues as I drift off to sleep.
Saturday comes and goes and brings with it further changes: for instance I am now expected to hand-wash my own underwear each evening before bed. After Sandra has shown me how I tackle the simple task which only takes a few minutes: although, much to my surprise, I find that I am not expected to wash everyone else's at the same time as my own.
“You are my wife, not my maid.” She exclaims. “Our marriage is a partnership which your transition does not affect.”
Then, after taking care of little Melanie, the three of us relax over a glass of wine and chat pleasantly for an hour or so. Ritsuko is sitting between the two of us and the chat eventually becomes more intimate and begins to include little caresses, hugs and the exchange of almost chaste kisses. Soon this escalates into a full three-way snog during which Sandra unfastens my belt and slips a hand down the front of my trousers.
She squeezes the thing that dangles from my crotch and giggles at its reaction.
“She will still be able to perform.” Ritsuko states.
“It feels like it.” Sandra giggles as she gives my balls a gentle squeeze. Then, after the girls each grab one of my hands, and laughing, they haul me up and tow me out of the room, up the stairs and into the master bedroom.
This is the first time that I have been in here since Ritsuko supplanted me earlier in the week and despite the change in domestic arrangements, it looks little different.
Once in there my trousers are snatched off and much to my bemusement, it is Ritsuko who eases-down my panties which causes my cock to flick out and point up at her. She stares at it and then turns to Sandra. “Well?”
My wife grasps the object of their attention and pumps it a few times causing it to stiffen even more. “I think that it's smaller... Yes... it's definitely shrunk.”
Then, with Ritsuko smiling knowingly, my wife took me by the hand and gently led me over to the bed where they both undressed me, although Sandra insisted that I retain the A-cup bra which produced the illusion of me having small tits. She urged me gently onto the bed and got me to lie on my back then shrugged off her clothes leaving them as an untidy scattering across the carpet.
When she was ready she leaned over and kissed me romantically and murmured. “Your skin is so smooth, sweetie, it's much better without all of that rough hair.” She stroked and then kissed my cheek. “Wow! So soft...”
Then, much to my surprise, she lowered herself onto my erect cock and took charge of me, moving and bouncing energetically. We had never had sex this way before, in fact she had never allowed anything other than the 'missionary position' previously which had been okay for me but was usually frustratingly disappointing for her. However with Sandra on top things were fantastic, breasts bouncing, she rode me until I orgasmed and squirted a massive load up into her... Then she carried on with a maniacal urgency until she herself came with an explosive scream that must have been audible to anyone outside in the street.
Then sighing, she rolled off me and lay down at my side then we hugged and kissed for a minute or so until she fell asleep. But just as I felt my eye lids closing I felt a gentle hand grasp my arm and Ritsuko helped me up and off the bed. As I stood there almost naked I watched as she lovingly covered my wife with the duvet before leading me back to my new bedroom and into the en-suite shower. Here she left me before returning a few minutes later with my clothes which she then put away.
Once I had dried myself and donned my baby-doll nightie, she tucked me up in bed and gently kissed me on my lips. “Sleep well, Roberta.” She whispered before leaving me to my thoughts, the music and my sleep.
As I drifted off to the accompaniment of the hissing music and the reassuring voice I remember thinking that there were now three people in my marriage.
But was it still my Marriage – or was it Ritsuko's?
12. Hurricane-Force Winds.
The new week began as the previous one had ended with my make-up being the main focus of their attentions. I had been taught how to do the basics and on Tuesday was 'encouraged' to try lipstick which Sandra showed me how to apply.
The lipstick was noticed by other people, however, and most people seemed to turn away suddenly in an attempt to hide their surprise. However Mandy, Tanya's wife, gave me a smile and murmured. “Nice!” Supportively.
“You mean that?” I asked in surprise.
She nodded and smiled. “You should let your hair grow, or better yet, try a wig.”
“A... A wig?” I asked in surprise. I had expected insults, derision even, but not advice.
“Sure,” she said smiling, “you've got a nice features, pretty even, and long hair would help you emphasise it by framing your face.”
We parted and I headed back to my office to think things over.
The next day, after we all left work early, Ritsuko didn't drive us straight home, instead she informed me that I had an appointment which, needless to say, was news to me.
My heart sank when I found that our destination was a building, incongruously labelled as a 'Reproductive Health Clinic'. But worse still, it was located in the park land that surrounded our place of employment and was in fact a subsidiary of Black Helix.
The ladies led my inside where the receptionist was expecting us. “Good afternoon, Madam Furukawa: Doctor Igarashi is expecting you. Please go straight in.”
With Ritsuko leading the way, Sandra and I followed her down one of the corridors and through an open door which led directly into a consulting room – a room which looked almost exactly like one found at GP's surgery.
A black-haired, middle aged woman wearing a white coat jumped up from where she was seated at her desk, turned towards Ritsuko and bowed. “Ohayōgozaimasu, Ritsukosan!” She said by way of greeting.
The doctor was Japanese – Now why was I not surprised?
Ritsuko bowed back, although not as low as Doctor Igarashi had. “Kon'nichiwa, dokutā.” She snapped.
The Doctor looked flustered as she glanced up at the wall clock and resorted to English. “Yes it is afternoon... I am Sorry, Madam Furukawa. The time must have got away from me.”
As to why the Doctor was getting so flustered over saying 'Good Morning' rather than 'Good Afternoon' puzzled me at the time. But when I got to know Japanese people rather better I realised it was because they did not like others to know they had made a mistake... They lost face!
I later asked Ritsuko about the exchange during our drive home she smirked and said. The Doctor made a mistake by wishing me 'good morning' when it was already past mid-day. She was worried that we would think that she would also make professional mistakes – in other words make us doubt her competence.”
That was in the future, however! At the moment I had other things to worry about, such as the reason that I was here.
The Doctor exchanged more words in Japanese with the Ritsuko and the pair of them then turned and stared at me for a moment.
She then turned towards Sandra. “How do you feel about this, Ms Huntsman? Do I go ahead?”
My wife nodded. “Yes, of course? It is what we all want, but there has been a slight change in plan.”
“Oh?” Enquired the Doctor as she sank into the chair by her desk and began to make notes. She turned towards Ritsuko and fired a burst of their native language at her.
When Ritsuko answered in kind, Doctor Igarashi nodded and wrote a couple more sentences down on her pad before saying. “Hai! We will postpone the injections and just carry out an examination during which Roberta will have the opportunity to provide the first donation. Four should be enough so therapy can commence this time next month.”
“Just get on with it, Sekiko.” Ritsuko answered in a bored voice although using Dr Igarashi's given name had the effect of causing the woman to smile and relax.
Then as I undressed for the examination, it suddenly dawned on me that I had been referred to as 'Roberta'. Suddenly I hesitated and stepped back but the Doctor didn't seem to notice my hesitation.
“Please retain your wig but remove your bra, Roberta.” Doctor Igarashi instructed in a kindly voice, for I had taken to wearing the long blonde wig just as Mandy had recommended and she was right – it did set my face up nicely.
Once I was naked, the Doctor examined just about everything that I had and was very thorough collecting urine and blood samples as the afternoon progressed. She paid particular attention to my genitals and measured my testicles and penis.
“Any changes?” She asked.
“Well,” I mumbled, “I think everything's getting smaller.”
The Doctor glanced across at Ritsuko who nodded. “We used the experimental depilation gel.”
“Ah!” She exclaimed. “That accounts for the changes. Good! Nothing to worry about, then.”
Nothing to worry about? I thought, unsure as to whether or not I wanted my willy to shrink. I guess that I was happy about transitioning, but |I wasn't sure that I wanted to lose my 'manhood'. I remember the headlines that had screamed across the popular press lately. Headlines that asked “Can a woman have a penis?”
Well this one knew that the answer was 'yes'! It had always been a part of me, after all and I knew all about shemales from the porn that I watched... I also knew that I wanted to become one.
Finally, after carefully examining my arsehole, the Doctor pushed a chair towards me and I was instructed to sit, After I had done so, Sandra knelt on the floor in front of me and used her shoulder to move my knees apart. Then, after smiling up at me, she reached over, grasped my soft little penis and began to pump it. She'd been going for three or four strokes before I cottoned on to what she was doing.
“Hey!” I said both by way of surprise and objection but as I moved to push her away, Ritsuko intervened and grasped my wrists. “Don't be a silly girl.” She purred in my ear.
“But... But... Someone's watching.” I objected.
“Would you like her to take over from Sandra?” Ritsuko smirked. “ Sekiko has very soft hands and a delicate touch, you know. Or may be you'd like us all to take it in turns playing with your little willy?”
I twisted around to look at her, I was both confused and turned-on by her suggestion. Suddenly her head moved and she crushed her lips against mine in a long, drawn out kiss which I relaxed into as my eyes closed almost as a reflex. Just what was going on? As the kiss came to an end she began to play with my nipples which seemed to have become a lot more sensitive lately.
By the time that the kiss ended and my eyes opened I saw that Sekiko Igarashi was now standing next to me but was holding a jar: one of the ones used for holding samples of body fluids. I realised just what they were up to a minute or so later when my body suddenly stiffened and the Doctor grabbed my penis from Sandra and used the jar to collect my seed that spurted out in a slimy white fountain half filling the container.
Then as I relaxed and Sandra used a handy towel to dry my rapidly shrinking male organ, the Doctor sealed and labelled the container before stowing it safely in the fridge. She turned towards me and smiled. “Well done, Roberta, please get dressed now. If you have any questions, I'm sure that your lady-friends will answer them on the way home. I'll see you all at the same time next week.”
The week progressed and it was Wednesday that I went to work dressed in a professional looking lady's business suit, much like Sandra or Ritsuko habitually wore. Although neither the suit or the blouse that I wore underneath were of the best quality, they would do until after my body had been reshaped and acquired more pleasing contours. But more pleasing to who?
Well Ritsuko wanted me to be fully feminized as soon as possible and Sandra seemed to harbour similar ambitions for me but I was still a little doubtful. Sure, I guess that I wanted it too but a hint of doubt seemed to lurk somewhere in my mind, emerging to challenge me whenever something new occurred. Something new and unusual such as my first visit to Dr Igarashi's consulting room...
Oh the doubts always vanished as soon as I had a chat with Ritsuko or Sandra but they would resurface again when the next change occurred. The ladies explained the visit to me and everything made sense... It had primarily been a medical to make sure that I was healthy and that the medical side of my transition would not be problematical: hence the various tests and samples.
I would need some facial surgery: being tall and slim meant that my Adam's Apple protruded to a noticeable extent, but it was nothing that couldn't be parred down. My jaw too was rather prominent, but again this was nothing that couldn't be corrected surgically. Finally there was the small matter of my voice which had broken years before but, much to my surprise, the Doctor explained that my vocal cords could be tightened to make me sound much more feminine.
Finally, genital surgery was discussed and Dr Igarashi had assured everyone that it was a simple matter to get rid of the unsightly little thing that was down there (her words, not mine) and convert it into a pussy (again, her words).
“But... But... I want to keep it!” I exclaimed plaintively. “I like having a willy, I want to become a shemale.”
“No you don't.” Snarled Ritsuko.
“Over my dead body!” Snapped Sandra.
“No, I want...” I tried to say but was cut short.
“Take no notice of her, Sekiko,” Ritsuko had purred, ”she gets these silly ideas from time to time. Sandra and I know exactly what she needs.”
And that was that, I was going to receive GRS no matter what... Although this did not explain the matter of the sperm sample that I had provided... The first of a planned series of four, or so it seemed. Actually it was my dear Sandra that explained this as we sat in the car waiting for Ritsuko to join us as she had remained behind for reasons of her own.
“Ritsuko has entered into a relationship with the two of us, Sweetie,” My wife began. “And every relationship should be blessed by children, should it not?”
I nodded, despite my confusion... Suddenly the fact that I was having sex... Proper sex... With my wife once more suddenly made sense. Clearly oral sex with me wasn't satisfying her and neither was whatever she was doing with Ritsuko, or so it seemed to my male mind.
“We... We're going to have another baby?” I gushed.
Suddenly her attitude hardened. “Why else do you think I'm letting you force that repulsive thing into me?”
My ego deflated like a punctured balloon. I hesitated and then carried on. “But the sperm sample?”
Sandra sighed and turned towards the entrance to the clinic. She turned back a few seconds later. “Ritsuko wants to have a baby even more than I do but she's a gold-star lesbian.”
I must have looked confused because she explained. “A gold-star lesbian is one who will never have sex with a man for any reason... She's very fond of you, she might even love you, but there's no way that she'd ever let you fuck her. The samples are for her. She'll get a whole lot more than four fertilisation attempts out of the four that you will provide which should be more than enough to get pregnant from. So cheer-up! You are going to be a father at least twice more before we chemically castrate you... Aren't you a lucky girl?”
Confused by both the wording of her final sentence and the sudden revelations that she had imparted, I lapsed into silence.
The weekend came around and with it sex with Sandra. Once again it was my wife who took charge and rode me to another blistering orgasm before falling asleep and leaving Ritsuko to take me back to my own room.
“You know,” she said from just outside my shower, “you'll be a beautiful woman, Roberta. Tall blondes are highly prized in Japan and and you will make a lot of people very jealous when we go there for our ceremony of blessing.”
“Ceremony?” I demanded.
“Why yes. The three of us will put our relationship on a formal footing... You want to marry me, don't you Roberta?” She said by way of proposing to me as she helped me out of the shower.”
“But I am married to Sandra!” I objected as she wrapped me in a large fluffy towel.
“Oh, I've already asked her and she's said she'll become my wife, too. And as the two of you are already married, then your acceptance is a mere formality. The two of you will honour me by becoming my wives just as I will become yours! Red-heads are also highly prized so people will be doubly jealous!”
13. Sowing the Wind... Reaping the Whirlwind.
Tempus fugit. As the old Latin saying goes. Actually Tempus fugit – bloody quick, would be a more accurate rendition as far as my twenty-first century life is concerned. Three weeks passed and as far as the world in-general was concerned, I was living full-time as a woman: feminine clothes, feminine make-up, feminine pronouns: everything!
By the time of my final booked Wednesday afternoon visits to Dr Igarashi's lair it had been confirmed that both my wife and our dear friend Ritsuko were indeed pregnant not that the visit itself was any different except that the three of us left together for there was no need for anyone to receive any further insemination treatment.
Once we had arrived home, Ritsuko had a word with our baby sitter who, on receipt of a new £50 note readily agreed to stay on long enough for the three potential parents to head on out for a celebratory meal. A taxi was booked and we headed out to one of the better country pubs in the vicinity for a traditional English-style dinner.
Then after returning home, my part in the celebration ceased and I headed for my little room, with its relaxing music and voices while Ritsuko and my wife headed to theirs for celebratory sex.
I drifted off to sleep with the little voice telling me how lucky I was to transition into a happy woman and how wonderful it was for my wife now that she was a lesbian. Was I happy? Well yes I really was... Ritsuko made sure of that... But then she likes everyone to be happy... She's wonderfully thoughtful in that way.
The rest of the week slipped by and on Saturday morning the three of us visited a beauty salon in Shrewsbury on what was to become a regular Saturday morning ritual. Sandra and Ritsuko had been going since the New year and I actually felt a sense of fulfilment in being allowed to join them. Everything that happened in that salon was new to me: the hair styling (not that I had a lot as yet); the pedi and mani, the latter meaning that I acquired semi-permanent ceramic nails that were tougher than the real things; finally there was the facial followed by the application of sophisticated make-up and the lessons in how to maintain it.
After I had left that salon for the first time I kept trying to catch glimpses of the new me as was reflected back in shop windows. I saw a tall, stylish blonde woman accompanied by two shorter companions: one a red-head, the other an oriental ravenette. All-in-all I felt on top of the world.
Once at home the rest of the day slipped past almost like a dream. We had been shoe-shopping... Ritsuko had pointed out that even though my body was about to change, my feet would stay the same size for the rest of my life. As a result of this I was attempting to master a pair of three-inch heels.
I felt on top of the world as it had been a wonderful day and judging by the way that the two of them shepherded me into the master bedroom – it was about to get even better!
The three of us undressed, although I kept my padded bra on in an attempt to maintain the illusion and with the lights turned low I was able to convince myself that I was the same as the other two women.
They led me over to the bed where they suddenly grabbed me and Sandra held me tight while Ritsuko injected something into my arse.
“Just an estrogen cocktail.” She said with a smirk. “Female sex hormones combined with a few things that were developed in our laboratories to accelerate and enhance their effects: they'll have you looking like a woman within a month.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Well you said that you wanted to understand women better.” Sandra said bluntly. “Looking like one will help you, won't it?”
I nodded. “Tits?” I managed to gasp. “Will I have tits?”
“Sure you will,” Ritsuko chuckled, “I like really big ones and that's what you're going to get.”
She leaned across and kissed me. “You'll put weight on across your hips too so that your body will be reshaped into something that both Sandra and myself will just love.”
Sandra then grabbed me and kissed me. “You'll look simply fantastic, Sweetie. You'll become our girl.”
“And we'll become yours.” Ritsuko purred as she threw her arms around both of us. “Won't that be wonderful, Roberta dear?”
I nodded because everything was working out just as I had planned:
My wife was now a lesbian with a beautiful girlfriend...
I was in the process of transitioning into a woman, a lesbian woman...
The three of us were in a stable relationship...
And I knew what it was like to be a woman...
I had achieved everything that I had set out to achieve, so what more was there?
Suddenly Ritsuko and Sandra loosed me and slipped off the bed. They moved over to the dresser that had once held my boy-clothes and turned their backs before opening one of the draws and giggled over what they saw there.
“What's going on?” I called.
“Just stay there, Sweetie,” Sandra called over to me, “you'll find out in a minute.”
As I watched, they seemed to be wriggling into something and fastening straps. It was too dark to make out details, but they were definitely up to something.
Suddenly they both spun around to face me and I gasped in surprise and shock.
“Roberta dear, you want to know exactly what it's like to be a woman, don't you?” Ritsuko purred as they walked towards me. It was only a couple of pace but enough to cause the things sprouting from their crotches to bob up and down lewdly.
“Well there's one thing that I had to submit to that you need to experience...” Sandra said, her voice suddenly harder. “The one thing that defines me as a woman in the eyes of every man.”
Ritsuko suddenly grabbed me and turned me over until I was lying on my belly. I felt something ice-cool drip onto my arsehole and a finger forced itself in. “Don't worry, This is just lube,” Ritsuko said, her voice tender and caring, “we want you to enjoy the experience. We don't want you to suffer.”
“To know what it's like to be a woman you have to be penetrated.” Sandra almost growled. “And we're going to supply that experience by fucking the shit out of you!”
Ritsuko lubed me up again and then the pair of them manoeuvred me onto my hands and knees and our Japanese friend grabbed me and held me steady as Sandra knelt behind me and lined herself up.
Suddenly I felt something bulbous rub against my rosebud and tried to pull away. But it was no good for although Ritsuko is barely five-feet tall, she is far stronger than she looks.
The pressure exerted by Sandra's faux-cock increased and suddenly its head slipped into me with an ease that I wouldn't have thought possible. I felt my sphincter stretch. I gasped at the sudden stab of pain. Then before I could resist any further, Sandra's arms grasped my waist and she pushed the infernal thing in as far as it would go.
“Just relax, Roberta dear, enjoy it, don't fight it.” Ritsuko purred and released me from her grip.
I was totally in my wife's power now as she began to ride me in more or less the same way as I used to ride her before Ritsuko took over our lives. She built up a rhythm of push in hard – ease back gently. Push in hard – ease back gently and kept this up for several minutes. The pain of being penetrated by her strap-on didn't vanish, or at least it didn't quite: instead it was masked by a new pleasurable sensation. I was being massaged but on the inside.
Soon I was gasping in pleasure... Gasping in time with her powerful thrusts...
Suddenly I was aware of yet another sensation. Ritsuko had grasped my now erect little cock and was gently wanking me off in time with my wife's not so gentle thrusts.
Pressure built up.
Suddenly Sandra screamed and the rhythm of her pelvic thrusts became erratic as she twitched and orgasmed. Then panting, she began again but was less gentle this time. She came again within a minute and so did I thanks to her thrusts and Ritsuko's gentle manipulation: my now-unwanted seed squirting down and puddling on the duvet cover beneath me.
I have no doubt that Sandra would have carried on fucking me if Ritsuko hadn't laid a hand on her arm and quietly said. “That's enough, my darling. She needs to recover before I have her, doesn't she?”
Sandra hesitated and then snarled. “She's my wife!”
“She's mine too!” Ritsuko purred and Sandra slipped out of me loosing my waist as she did so,
I collapsed into the puddle of cum that I had deposited on the bed and just lay their unthinking in a sort of post-orgasmic glow. I felt gentle fingers explore my tortured arsehole and then more of that lubricant was worked in... Much more this time. I didn't move... I didn't even react... I just lay there panting.
Eventually, I tried to get up but a gentle hand pressed against my shoulders dissuaded me and I continued to lie there in a half daze. I remained there but suddenly felt a weight descend on my back and realised that I was being mounted and was about to be penetrated once more. A curtain of the blackest black hair descended and I felt a strap-on cock enter me for the second time that evening. Only this time I screamed as I was penetrated.
I couldn't move, but not only that, I realised that I actually didn't want too. Ritsuko is only tiny but her weight was enough to pin me down against the bed and even if I had struggled I doubt if I would have dislodged her for she was more than heavy enough to hold me in place. My head was to one side and I could see Sandra through the black curtain of Ritsuko's long hair. Sandra had divested herself of the strap on harness and was standing by the bed watching me being fucked and thrusting her fingers in and out of her pussy in time with Ritsuko's rhythmic thrusts into my arse.
God she looked like a wild thing as she worked herself up to yet another orgasm stimulated both by her own fingers and by the sight of me being pegged.
I couldn't move, I didn't want too as Ritsuko's pelvis drove that dildo in and out of me with regular, insistent force and because I was trapped under her body, her thrusts seemed much harder than Sandra's had been when she had fucked me a few minutes before.
Suddenly I felt my rectal muscles quiver and then clench hard against the plastic intruder almost as if they were seeking to expel it. Suddenly my whole body seemed to clench in exactly the same way as I spasmed and began to shake. My scream, when it came, must haver been as loud as Sandra's had been when I had fucked her during the previous weeks.
As I came I realised that I'd never be able to fuck anyone again... Not after what the girls were in the process of doing to me... I didn't care though and the thought of those hormones feminizing me and chemically castrating me made me cum all over again.
And then the three of us crawled under the cum-smeared duvet and fell asleep in each other's arms.
14. The Calm After the Storm.
The weeks passed us by and, with time, everyone adapted to the new situation: everyone both outside our little family as well as in.
At work things settled down as the merger between Black Helix and Furukawa Biotech bedded down and a new confident grouping emerged. Because of my close proximity to both Sandra and Ritsuko I was always kept appraised as far as the technical and scientific advances were concerned. As for myself, as an employee of the Japanese partner in the merger my role moved to one of liaison between the two halves of the new organisation and as an administrator I had to be familiar with, well, everything!
The research work carried both in the UK and in Japan fell into many categories: much of it was commercial and was aimed at the development of new products that could be profitably marketed. Some was done under contract for outside organisations both military and commercial. Finally there was the shadowy 'blue-sky' research that seemed to be undertaken solely because it had seemed like a good idea to someone in the organisation. It was this research that had the potential to produce real innovations. Some of our research, as you will imagine was borderline-immoral while yet more was just plain shady. Either way it was capable of producing surprising results: my rapid feminization falling into this category.
With this said, I suppose that I should attempt to tie everything together as there are several loose ends. So, with this in mind... Here goes:
The three of us visited Dr Igarashi as a family once more and it is a visit that I remember well for it sealed my fate as a woman. The other two made further visits so that the Doctor could use various techniques developed by Furukawa Biotech to control their pregnancies. Techniques that would guarantee that the babies growing inside them would be born as fully functioning females, despite their personal genetics. This treatment involved the growing foetuses being exposed to testosterone blockers at various critical stages in their development. This therapy however was something on which I was never consulted and only learned about at a much later date.
As for myself, I will concentrate on that one visit...
It began in standard Japanese fashion with us all bowing to each other followed by a brief examination of my rapidly changing body.
Igarashi Sekiko pronounced herself satisfied that everything was progressing as it should and seemed particularly pleased that my redundant male organs had shrunk even further. It was at this point that she fixed Ritsuko with a piercing stare.
“We have arrived at a critical point, my friend.” She stated using the ponderous voice of a professional expert. “Except for breast growth, current biochemical intervention can take the changes no further! If you wish the changes to proceed then we must resort to surgery.”
“What sort of surgery?” I demanded but was ignored.
Instead the Doctor cradled my scrotum in an attempt to draw Ritsuko's attention to it. “While the effects of testosterone can be negated by feeding her higher levels of blockers, it would make more sense from a developmental point of view to permanently remove the source of this problematic hormone.”
Ritsuko glanced across at Sandra and a hurried whispered conversation ensued. Suddenly my wife raised her voice. “Perhaps we should ask the little Sweetie what she wants?”
Ritsuko looked as if she had been slapped but suddenly she nodded brusquely before turning to me. “Roberta, do you wish to transition into a women as completely as modern techniques will permit?”
I nodded. “Yes!”
Ritsuko smiled and asked the next question. “Are you prepared to undergo surgery to achieve this?”
Once again I nodded. “Yes!”
“Roberta you have said that you want to retain your penis on several occasions. Is this still your wish?” She asked.
I nodded. “Well, yes, I am rather attached to it you know.”
She turned to the Doctor. “If you do as we discussed, she'll still be able to have a complete GRS at a later date if she changes her mind?”
Dr Igarashi pulled a face. “Well yes. It will be a little more complicated but still possible.”
Ritsuko smiled. “Okay, Roberta, we will respect your wishes.” She turned back to Igarashi Sekiko and her face hardened. “Fine... Castrate her now and remove all traces of her scrotum... She'll look much nicer with a completely smooth taint. Oh and give her a urethral reroute while you're at it.”
Ritsuko smiled again but her expression was far from pleasant. “You'll still have a penis but you won't even be able to pee through it. In fact it will be completely useless for anything other than playing with – or maybe tying a ribbon around!”
Sekiko worked quickly and within an hour I was a eunuch and on my way home after what amounted to the first of a series of feminizing operations.
Over the next few weeks I went under the care of various specialists who carried out the work that Ritsuko and Sandra demanded and Furukawa Biotech paid for. My Adam's apple was reduced until it no longer showed. Then my jaw line was paired down and my chin made less prominent to give my features a more feminine appearance. Finally a specialist was flown in from Tokyo who used clips to shorten and tighten my vocal cords making my voice a husky contralto.
Finally the girls became a little impatient with the hormone-induced growth of my new B-cup breasts and implants gave me DD's which, let me tell you, are big and heavy things to lug around... Although, despite their size, I have come to love them because of the envious glances that are directed at me!
The three of us also took part in Buddhist ceremony to bless our unorthodox union, a ceremony that was unique in that it had three brides, all wearing traditional white dresses. Okay, our union was not valid in the eyes of the law, but so what? Our friends and employer certainly recognized it!
My gender-change was registered and the Company's legal department helped me obtain amended documentation such as a passport, a driving licence, degree certificates and so on and finally the three of us changed our surnames and we all became Mrs Huntsman-Furukawa which would no doubt be a source of confusion for everyone else.
Finally both Sandra and Ritsuko gave birth to bonny baby girls without any complications. Emily and Aki came into the world less than ten days apart and after a hormone injection I got to nurse them too. If we require a larger family, then there is still some of Robert's seed in store for the other ladies to use.
The last year or so has been a roller-coaster ride as far as Sandra and I are concerned and I believe that we have conclusively proved that the old adage which says 'twos company, threes a crowd' is completely false. We have also proved that a marriage with three people in it can work – provided that they love each other and are all women!
Sex is interesting, adventurous and very intimate. I don't miss having a working cock and have found that being fucked is much more satisfying than fucking ever was. The other girls think that my tiny willy is cute... It's still very sensitive even though it has shrunk to about an inch long and, as Dr Igarashi predicted, it no longer has any use other than to be played with.
The three of us are happy and as well as each other, we have good jobs, a nice home and three very beautiful little daughters. What more more could we ask for?