Kandy

Kandy A Day (or so) in the life ----- ------------------------- By Karen Beckett ----------------

Kandy was nervous. She alternated between pacing up and down the small hotel room and sitting at the dresser checking her make up. She couldn't decide whether she was more worried that April would turn up or that she wouldn't.

It was to have been a dream holiday for Kenny, but so far it hadn't lived up to his fantasies. Now on his last night in San Francisco, his last night in America, before he returned to his normal life, his boring job and his little room in his parent's house in Croydon, Surrey, England, he finally had a chance to live out a little of his dream. But would April turn up?

Kenny was short with a small build covered with a layer of fat brought about by a lack of exercise and a diet that included too many fries and not enough vegetables. He was twenty-two but although he'd had several girlfriends he had not had a great deal of sexual experience. It was not that he was ugly or anything, but he did not fit most women's dream of the ideal man and this, combined with an innate shyness - especially around the opposite sex - ensured that his relationships had been of the particularly futile kind where both partners are settling for what they can get, rather than what they want, and although this kind of relationship can sometimes blossom into true love, when each partner finds that indefinable something in the other that brings a lifetime of wedded bliss, in Kenny's case it hadn't happened.

Kenny was also a transvestite...a deeply closeted transvestite...if you can call a small, locked, suitcase buried at the back of a cupboard and containing some grubby lingerie, a mini skirt with a broken zip and a couple of tops that would make great cleaning rags, a closet.

He'd had more clothes once of course, well several times actually, but he'd purged and promised himself never again, but the urge to dress had always come back. So when the urge had come back this time he'd decided to go for it, to really explore his feminine side, and where better to explore than San Francisco. San Francisco, the gay capital of the world - not that he was gay of course though sometimes his fantasies had him as a real women being loved by a real man. San Francisco, where you couldn't move for men dressed as nuns on roller blades. San Francisco, where Kenny could finally become Kathy and walk the streets day and night without anyone taking the slightest notice, well perhaps some notice but only in a positive way.

So Kenny had stretched his meagre resources to the limit, bought the cheapest flights he could get and planned his holiday of a lifetime. Only it hadn't worked out like that.

The plan had called for his first full day to be spent shopping but, partly because of fatigue brought about by his gruelling - but cheap - journey, the first day had been spent gawping. On the second day he managed to enter some stores, but every time he stopped in front of a dress or some lingerie that he liked, he could feel the hostile stares of the women shoppers boring into the back of his head. He tried to tell himself that he was imagining it, and even if he was not, so what. He was twelve thousand miles from home, he knew nobody here, and anyway, this was San Francisco. Nobody cared. He wandered from store to store but all he ended up with was a pair of jeans. Men's jeans.

Finally, on the third day, he went into a supermarket that also sold clothing, grabbed a trolley, and began to walk the aisles. And he did it! By George, he did it! He bought a dress, a long sleeved, button through, mid calf length dress with a pretty floral pattern. He bought a bra and panties and pantyhose, he bought a pair of shoes - low heeled pumps, he bought a purse and wallet, a belt, a topcoat, some cheap costume jewellery and he even bought cosmetics. And what's more, he even got it all through the checkout without falling over or running screaming through the doors. And no one had dragged in a cop and shouted 'That's the pervert!' and he'd even answered the middle aged lady's inane questions. 'I love that Australian accent.' 'I'm from England actually.' 'Oh, we're going to Ireland soon. We have relatives over there.' He didn't bother explaining that Ireland was a different country, and that he was not familiar with the Hispanic quarter of Dublin.

But he'd done it. He'd bought himself a wardrobe, well an outfit. It didn't cross his mind that he could of done the same thing in Croydon, or practically anywhere else for that matter, because shops like to sell things and if people want to buy things then it doesn't matter what gender they are as long as their money is good. Even if he had realised, it wouldn't have dented Kenny's sense of triumph.

He'd shopped mid-morning and was now making his way back to his hotel intending to change and go out to lunch when it dawned on him that he hadn't bought a wig. He debated going back to buy one since, although he'd resisted getting his hair cut for a couple of months before his trip, his hair was by no means long, and it's mousy brown colour was not exactly glamorous. In the end he decided to change, and if his hair didn't look right he could always go out and buy a wig that afternoon. Maybe he might not even change back first, his confidence was so high.

Half an hour later his confidence was in tatters.

His meticulous planning for this trip had not included a course in American dress sizes. He hadn't noticed a dressing room in the shop but, even if he had, he would not have dared to use it. He had not even dared to hold things up to himself to check. If the truth were known, Kenny would not have been able to tell anyone his English dress size, let alone his American one. In fact, when he bought male clothes he had to check the size of what he had on before he picked up something new. His tentative journey into the world of femininity had not yet reached the wonderful world of shopping and as a result he had estimated the size he needed by eye. His eye had not been very accurate.

The shoulder seams of the dress were nearer his elbows; the cuffs were six inches below his fingers. The waist wasn't even a snug fit round his hips and the skirt dragged on the floor. Not even the most optimistic mother would dare utter the immortal words, 'You'll grow into it dear.' Not unless she'd expected her offspring to treble in mass in a week. To qualify for this dress a women who'd started big would need at least six children and a mountain of ice cream, and even then she'd struggle to fill the pantyhose.

Some of the stuff was salvageable. The bra and panties almost fitted and some of the costume jewellery was wearable. The purse was smart but although the topcoat fit quite well, it did nothing to bring out Kenny's latent femininity. Kathy's dream was a bust.

He could of course have gone back to the shop, explained the situation, and swapped everything for the correct size and style, but his courage had flown out the window and he could not face that kind of humiliation. So he packed everything into his suitcase and hid it at the back of the hotel room closet and went out to get some lunch.

For the next few days he was a normal tourist, doing the usual sights by day and in the evenings wandering the district looking at the beautiful, and not so beautiful, people. Then, during his daily wanderings, he discovered the specialist shop.

For a while he looked in the window at the exotic lingerie and incredible spiked shoes, then taking his courage in both hands he entered. As he browsed, a nice lady offered him a coffee and a chance to look at the catalogue. The same nice lady measured him for size, showed him the dressing rooms, advised him on foundation garments, fitted his wig and inserted the silicone breast forms into his lacy bra, all the time complimenting him on his figure, his looks, his cheekbones and his skin. It was a wonderful experience. The only fly in the ointment was the prices.

When Kenny left the shop with the wig, the breast forms, a waist cincher, a garter belt and stockings, a lacy bra and panty set, a skirt and top and a pair of stiletto heeled strappy red sandals, (at three and a half inches, the shortest heels in the shop), he had spent a large part of his holiday budget and maxed out his credit card as well. He also had in his shopping bags a tub of industrial strength foundation - guaranteed to cover up birthmarks, scars and third degree burns, let alone Kenny's sparse beard shadow - false nails, false eyelashes, lipstick, lip liner, nail varnish, eyebrow pencil, mascara, powder, (clear dusting powder and a compact), everything he would need.

He'd rushed back to the hotel, showered, shaved, (face, legs and arms), plucked, (well trimmed), his eyebrows, all the time singing along in his head with the Lou Reed classic.

'Candy came from Miami FLA Hitch-hiked her way across the USA Plucked her eyebrows on the way Shaved her legs then he was a she I said 'Hey Babe' 'Take a walk on the wild side' I said 'Hey Honey' 'Take a walk on the wild side'

Six times she'd put on her coat, picked up her purse and gone to the door. Twice she'd opened it, and once she'd stepped outside. But in the end her courage had deserted her, and she'd cleaned off her make up, changed her clothes and disconsolately wandered out of the hotel, only to rush back to the desk when he realised he'd left everything, including his room key, in his purse.

The clerk had to accompany Kenny back to the room, open the door with his passkey, and enter. The clothes were on the bed and the make up and wig were on the dresser, as was the purse. The clerk stood in the centre of the room as Kenny stood frozen by the door. Then, with a weird kind of mental shrug, Kenny had walked over, picked up the purse, transferred his cigarettes and lighter, his room key and his wallet to his pockets, (not bothering to change everything to his male wallet), then he'd fished out the lipstick, tossed it up and down in his hand for a while as if debating whether he would need it that night, then put it back, closed the purse and turned to the clerk saying, 'Thanks very much.'

'You're welcome, sir' said the clerk, then they'd left the room and Kenny had gone out on the town.

.............

April had noticed the guy in the bar before, and she thought she recognised the signs. She'd been there herself, and not that long ago. He was on the outside looking in, but she could see, somewhere in his face, his aura, maybe his soul, that he was desperate to come inside. Tonight though, there was something different about him. Tonight he was very close.

She manoeuvred her way across to him and eventually they got talking. A crowd of tourists left and they managed to grab a table and, as the hubbub in the bar died down a bit, they began to get to know each other.

At first he seemed in awe of her, 'You're very beautiful.' He said and she was flattered by the compliment, but she had also winced inside at the unspoken part of the message. 'You're very beautiful for a man dressed in women's clothes', was the full message. Of course she was mature enough to recognise that being read was mostly context, and while she was confident she could pass in most places, in a bar full of queens - from drag queens through leather queens to rubber queens - she knew she had little chance.

Gradually she managed to get Kenny to open up and when he finally began to talk about his plans for his trip and the reality of his experience, she felt a sympathetic wave of compassion. He told his story as a joke against himself, and she laughed along with him but she also recognised his deep pain, and she tried to get across her sympathy and compassion. Gender dysphoria is a very lonely experience, and every girl needs all the help she can get.

As the evening wore on they'd become friends and the knowledge that tomorrow was Kenny's last full day in San Francisco, together with a fair amount to drink, had led them to the plan.

'What's your name, Kenny?' April had asked.

Kenny had given her that shy little smile. 'Kandy' he'd said. 'Kandy with a K.'

'Well, Kandy with a K, what say you and me hit the town tomorrow night?'

'You mean...?'

'Sure. Why not? You said you got a nice new outfit today. I'll come round and help you get dressed and made up, then we'll go out to dinner and then we'll cruise the district.'

'Oh God I'd love that, April. I'd really love that.'

..........

Andy was having a shit day. Some idiot salesman had managed, as only salesmen can, to bypass the extensive anti-virus precautions and introduce a particularly nasty strain of Mellissa into the office network. About six o'clock Andy had managed to get himself in an empty office and phone his new friend.

'Kenny...uh Kandy, it's uh April.'

'Hi April'

Andy...uh April, had intended to cancel their date for tonight, but the resigned tone in Kandy's voice had cut him to the quick.

'Look Kandy, I've got a bit of a crisis at the office and I'm running a bit late. You go ahead and get ready, and I'll be over to pick you up about half eight. O.K?'

Andy had worked like a pig for an hour, and then he'd thrown a tantrum. 'I have a life as well you know. I'll be in early tomorrow. I'll take my fuckin pager but I'm leaving! Now!'

He'd rushed home and bathed and changed. He normally liked the transition from Andy to April to last a couple of hours, revelling in each new layer of feminity as it was applied. Bathing in soft, scented bubbles. Shaving his legs and arms, (shaving his face was the last piece of Andy he removed). Choosing and donning his lingerie. Carefully applying his make-up. Picking his outfit for the night and styling his wig.

Tonight the ritual was rushed and as April paid off the cab at Kandy's hotel and walked down the corridor to her new friend's room she felt, for the first time in ages, more like a man in a dress than a woman with a minor defect.

Pausing before Kandy's door, she tried to compose herself but the hassles of the day combined with the hurried nature of her preparation would not allow her normal serenity to surface. Finally, she just knocked on the door and, after a long moment's pause, it opened and there stood Kandy. Hot to trot.

'Oh my God!'

..............

When Kenny had returned to his hotel the previous night, he'd still been riding on a wave of euphoria. He'd smiled at the desk clerk as he'd picked up his key, remembering with pride that moment earlier when he had claimed his true self. That moment when he'd looked round his room and mentally acknowledged, 'Yes, this is all mine, all part of me, and if anyone has a problem with that, then tough. It's their problem, not mine.'

When he entered his room and saw his stuff spread out before him, he rushed to change. When April, wonderful beautiful April, had asked him his name - his femme name - earlier, he'd suddenly realised that Kathy was not the woman he wanted to be. He wanted to be Kandy, and as he gazed at the reflection in the mirror he saw, no she saw, Kandy gazing back.

The one minor blemish in the otherwise wonderful evening with April was that as they talked and laughed together April would touch his arm or his shoulder or his knee, and try as he might to convince himself that they were two women sharing an intimate conversation, and that in these circumstances women touch each other constantly, there was one part of him that he could not convince.

In short, Kenny had a hardon throughout, and when he saw Kandy reflected in the mirror his hardon had got harder.

Kenny was not particularly highly sexed, masturbating twice a week on average, but that night he'd jacked of three times, spraying more semen each time than he had since he was sixteen. When he finally stripped and cleaned off his make-up he was tired and disturbed. He could handle the fact that April had turned him on. Although he knew intellectually that April was male, he figured that he had been reacting to the sight and touch of a good-looking woman. No, what disturbed him most was his reaction to the image of Kandy.

Kandy brought out the animal in him, and he brought out the animal in Kandy.

..........

It was late when Kenny woke up the next day. He tidied the room, but there was not much he could do about the loose powder on the dresser or the make-up smeared tissues on top of the tags and wrapping from Kandy's clothes that lay accusingly in the waste bin. He was somehow less sanguine about the maid finding the evidence than he had been with the room clerk the previous day.

He went out for brunch then wandered the stores. He really wanted a new outfit but by now his money was pretty low. In the end, all he could afford was a new bra and panty set, in a pretty pink, that he figured went well with his red skirt and top, and some new stockings. Fortunately, he had written down the sizes of everything he'd bought the previous day so he was confident everything would fit. It was only when he left the store that he realised how easily he had managed to shop. He'd gone into the store with the idea that he needed something to wear, so he'd looked for what he wanted, inspected several things - including a really lovely dress that, sadly, he could not afford - and then bought what he wanted. If only he could have done that a week ago.

He decided he'd better return to the hotel in case April called but when he got to his room he found that the maid was just finishing up cleaning. He turned to leave but she said something in a language he did not even recognise, let alone understand, and motioned him to stay. When she'd finished she pointed to his store bag and said something unintelligible. He shrugged and said 'I don't understand.'

'Buy nice?' she asked.

'I hope so' he said.

'Have fun.'

'I hope so.'

Then she left.

............

As the day wore on, Kenny began to think more and more about his date with April that night, and the more he thought about what might happen the more nervous he became. For every good fantasy he had - a beautiful meal, a pleasant stroll through the district, a drink or two, perhaps a dance - there would be a bad one. April wouldn't show, she would reject Kandy on sight, Kandy would be laughed at in the street, she would be arrested and thrown in jail.

When April phoned, Kenny was in a negative mode; half hoping that April would call the whole thing of. When she didn't, Kenny decided that he would go all out to be Kandy that night. He showered and put on his waist cincher, his garter belt and stockings and his new underwear and sat down at the dresser to put on his make-up.

Three times he made up and three times he wiped down to the skin again, before he decided things were right. Then, with only an hour to spare before April was due, he put on his top and skirt. He didn't waste the time sitting and worrying though. He practiced his feminine walk, his feminine gestures, even - very quietly - his feminine voice. The nice lady in the specialist shop had been very insistent about that.

'It doesn't matter how pretty you look,' she told the fascinated Kenny, 'You must talk like a woman, walk like a woman, act like a woman and,' - here she paused for emphasis - 'think like a woman.'

So Kenny walked and sat and stood and talked and thought, and slowly Kandy appeared. And then April - at least Kandy hoped and prayed it was April - knocked on the door, and Kandy, gathering all her courage, opened it.

'Oh my God!'

...........

It is a strange thing, but some specialist TV shops have this odd idea that, rather than looking like housewives doing the grocery shopping or even young ladies going out on a date to a smart restaurant, transvestites like to look like hookers out on the prowl. The shop where Kandy bought her outfit was not an exception to this rule.

Her skirt finished barely below her stocking tops, and her sleeveless top was so tight and low-cut it showed the top of her breast forms peeking out of her half- cup bra. Her clip-on earrings looked like gaudy chinese lanterns and she had enough bangles and rings to stock a garage sale.

Kandy had another slight disadvantage over other girls. She had never been to slumber parties where she and her friends experimented with make-up and hairstyles. She had never learned that with make-up, as with so many things in life, more is not necessarily better. She had never learned that while panda eyes look nice on pandas, they might not look so good on people. She had never learned that while teased and curled hair that is wider than your shoulders might look all right on rock stars, it may not be suitable for a simple dinner for two. She had never even learned that with eyelashes like hers you don't need false ones, and even if you did, you are allowed to trim them to under one inch long.

'Oh my God...You look uh ...incredible Kandy' said April, 'but why don't I come in and tidy a few things up?'

April had managed to tone down Kandy's eyes a little and remove her false eyelashes, 'You don't need these, you have such lovely eyelashes.' She had pulled up a little of Kandy's spare flesh and blended the breast forms with foundation, and trimmed the plastic nails to a mere half inch beyond the tips of her fingers, but time was ticking away, and short of a complete makeover and a new wardrobe, the was not much else she could do.

'Do you have a topcoat Kandy? It's a little chilly out there.'

April breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the coat covered most of Kandy's charms. She had already revised the evening's itinerary to avoid places where she might be well known, but at least with the coat on, April could handle getting in a cab with Kandy.

As they left the room to begin their night's excursion, April reflected on the most disturbing aspect of Kandy's appearance. From the moment that Kandy had opened the door, a part of April that she was trying to forget, a part that she hoped soon to lose, had been persistently reminding her of it's existence. April was turned on in a way that she had not been turned on for a long, long time.

April had picked a restaurant that she knew was tolerant of all lifestyles. It was more expensive than the places she normally used, but what the hell, it was Kandy's last night. The maitre'd had more or less insisted that they check their coats before he sent them to their table and Kandy was revealed to the world in all her glory. As the waiter led them to their places and seated them, April studied Kandy's reactions. She seemed to be coping well and April thought: 'If she can handle it then so can I.'

April ordered for both of them - Kandy had confessed she had been living on burgers since she came to San Francisco and knew little about the fine and varied cuisine of the city. She also ordered the wine for them both and this contributed to the feeling that she was an older man taking an inexperienced girl out on her first date - despite that fact that she could pass and Kandy, dressed as she was, looked like a TV hooker.

She had just decided to relax and go with the flow when her pager went off.

'I'm sorry Kandy, I have to get that. It might be important.'

'Sure. No problem.'

April found the phone and called her workplace. She found it difficult, dressed as she was, to talk in Andy's voice, but it had to be done. The idiots at work had thought they had cleared the virus, but as they began re-booting machines it had spread back through the network. Andy was needed. Now.

She hung up, found their waiter, and explained the change of plan.

'And your companion? Will she be leaving with you?'

April looked across to their table and saw Kandy staring anxiously back. She felt really guilty about ruining their night out, and she knew that if Kandy left with her, she would go back to her hotel and spend her last night in front of the television. 'Let her have one night to remember,' she thought, 'One night of her dream vacation to look back on.' April turned to the waiter and said, 'No. She will probably be staying.'

April explained the situation to Kandy, who immediately wanted to leave. 'No Kandy. You relax, enjoy your meal and then head down to that bar we were in last night. I'll join you later.' April was aware that she may have inadvertently given the impression that she was a fully out transsexual who worked full time as a woman and who could breeze into work, sort out the problem in no time, and be back at the bar before Kandy had finished her dessert. In fact she knew that by the time she had gone home and changed, and then driven to work, she had little chance of getting away before dawn, and even if her useless co-workers had fixed the problem when she got there, she would not have time to come home, change again, and get out before Kandy was back in her hotel bedroom. Nevertheless, she felt that her little white lie was justified. Kandy would have a night to remember.

.........

When April left, Kandy felt very alone and very vulnerable. Just as she was about to get up and leave, the waiter turned up with her first course so, taking her courage in both hands, she thanked him with her whispery femme voice and began to eat. When he returned a few minutes later with the bottle of wine that April had ordered, she distractedly picked up her glass and took a large gulp. She was barely aware of what she was eating, except that it was seafood. When the main course came she did her best, but the combination of nerves and a tight waist cincher had not done her appetite much good. Explaining to the waiter that she had enjoyed the meal, but that her appetite would not let her eat another bite had been a particularly embarrassing experience.

Throughout the meal Kandy had vacillated between relaxation and nervousness. She would be eating normally, and then become aware that it was not ladylike to shovel her food into her mouth. She would then try to become dainty and feminine in her manners, but this would make her so self-conscious that she would grab her wineglass and take a big swig, ruining her dainty image. But the thing that was making her most nervous was the man.

When she'd first noticed him looking at her, she'd thought he was reading her, but every time she looked at him during the meal, his eyes had been locked on her body and she gradually began to think that he fancied her. She would dismiss this thought as fanciful and get back to eating her dinner - and drinking her wine - but her eyes would be drawn back to him and she would see him staring at her and the only interpretation she could put on his look was lust.

Finally the meal was over and Kandy had called for the check and was finishing her coffee. By the time she had counted out the bills to cover the meal she realised that she could not afford a cab back to her hotel. She was trying to decide whether to go to the bar and meet April or to try and find her way home when she again caught the eye of the stranger. Nervously, she rummaged in her purse, pulled out her cigarettes and lit one. Taking a deep drag, she contemplated her problems. Her problems were about to escalate.

...........

Hancock had first noticed the strange couple when they were being shown to their table. Initially he had figured it must be some sort of D/s scene, with the husband or boyfriend dressed in the most humiliating drag that the women could dream up. He had heard of that sort of thing happening, and it amused him to think of the poor guy suffering under the clothes. He wondered how anyone could get off on something like that. As the couple talked and ordered, Hancock began to revise his earlier guess. They certainly weren't behaving like Mistress and slave, more like new friends getting to know each other. Then the broad was paged and went to the phone. They seemed to have some sort of disagreement, then the good looking one marched out the door leaving the drag queen to herself.

Hancock was bi and he'd been with TV's and she-males before and there was something about this one that appealed to both sides of his nature. She wasn't particularly pretty and she was horribly over made-up, but there was a boyish girlishness or girlish boyishness about her that was really turning his crank. When she caught his eye, she would suddenly begin to over-dramatise her gestures like some old Hollywood star, but then she would gradually return to a more normal way of behaviour until she looked at him again. Was she coming on to him?

He had just about decided that she was a hooker, but a very inexperienced one. Maybe she was on her first night out? Wouldn't that be a blast? He was timing his meal so that he would be finished about the same time as her and then he could follow her out. He watched as she counted out the bills for her meal and hesitated over the tip. He had been short of cash himself a few times and he recognised the signs. Was she really broke, or was it a message to him that she wanted money?

He called for his check then caught her eye again. She tossed her head extravagantly, and then daintily sipped her coffee. Then she did something really off the wall. Crossing her legs and smoothing her skirt, she casually took out a cigarette and lit it. And all hell broke loose.

..........

Kandy had barely taken her first puff of the cigarette when she was surrounded. Three waiters, the maitre'd and the bouncer suddenly appeared and she was hustled, with barely time to pick up her purse, out of the dining area, through a side door and into the alley at the side of the building.

Kandy was first shocked, then humiliated, then outraged. 'Bloody stupid anti- smoking laws!' She took a large drag of her ciggie and blew the smoke at the closing fire door, then began to try and get herself together. After a nervous start to the evening, everything had been going so well, and now she found herself thrown out of the restaurant with not enough money for her cab fare back to her hotel. She stood there, smoking, trying to decide if she should make her way back to the hotel on foot, or go to the bar and meet April.

..........

The maitre'd looked round the restaurant, trying to assess the damage. Fortunately the dreadful incident seemed to have gone largely unnoticed. Only one diner seemed to have been disturbed by the furore so he went over to the man's table and began to repair the damage.

'Would sir like anything else? More coffee? A drink perhaps? Compliments of the management.'

'No, just the check please,' said Hancock.

'Was everything to sir's satisfaction?'

'Yes. Everything was fine. Now could I have the check please.'

Eventually Hancock managed to get the maitre'd to bring the check. He was pleasantly surprised at the twenty-five per-cent discount on the bill, but thoroughly pissed off at missing his chance with the strange hooker. Finally he had managed to brush off the attentions of the restaurant staff and make his way out off the place.

Meanwhile, the maitre'd was hovering solicitously round the restaurant, hoping that he had managed to stave off a city prosecution and any amount of civil lawsuits. And all because of the reckless actions of that stupid person. Pity really, he'd actually enjoyed watching her eat. She was odd, but strangely attractive.

..........

Slobodan had been in the country for six weeks and perhaps because of his imposing size, his less than perfect looks, or his almost complete ignorance of the language, he had not managed a single liaison with a member of the opposite sex since he'd been here. In his own country - at least while his side had been on top in the little local difficulty there - he had been very popular with the ladies, but here, especially as he had not yet managed to meet with people from the old country who didn't have some sort of silly grudge against him, his love life was non-existent.

When he'd snuck away from his night job as a meat packer and slipped out of the back door into the alley for a smoke, sex was not uppermost on his mind, but when he saw the hooker, crushing her cigarette end with the toe of her red high heeled shoe, and then sexily applying her lipstick, his hardon had been instant and insistent. Not really knowing the niceties in a situation like this, he simply walked up to her, fished out some notes and shoved them in her hand, then he pulled out his prick, pointed to it, pointed to her mouth and waited. As he approached he noticed that she was not the prettiest girl he'd ever had, and then, even in the darkness of the alley, he wondered if she was a girl at all, but his prick was insisting that this was what it wanted so Slobba had gone along for the ride.

When Kandy saw the huge man approaching, she was still riding a wave of anger from the incident in the restaurant. She turned to him and was about to ask him what the hell he wanted, when he pushed a bundle of notes into her hand and made it perfectly clear what he wanted. She breathed in as deeply as the waist cincher would allow, trying to fight a rising tide of panic and told herself: 'Don't do anything stupid.'

Before her trip she'd sought advice on what to do if she was mugged. The advice she received boiled down to three simple rules. Don't try and run. Don't make a fuss. Give them what the want. But this wasn't a mugging, this was a a case of mistaken identity. The monster clearly thought she was a hooker, but did the rules still apply?

She'd looked at the money, then at the man, and then at the prick. There was forty bucks, a huge ugly evil looking guy, and six inches of rock hard cock.

Kandy considered her options. The money was more than enough for the cab fare home. The man looked as if he could cause her, or maybe even Mike Tyson, a serious amount of damage. So that left the prick to be dealt with. Could she do it? In all her fantasies, Kandy had never really considered this as an attractive scenario. Mostly she had dreamed of - shall we say - lesbian sex. Occasionally when the magic/sci-fi option had been invoked and she was a complete woman, her dreams had been of romantic lovemaking with a tall dark handsome man. But a blowjob in an alley for forty dollars with Frankenstein's monster had not been part of her dreams.

The man had smiled - well it might have been a smile - then repeated his gestures, this time with a little more urgency, and Kandy made up her mind.

When she'd set off for America she had considered the possibility of sex, and so she had bought a dozen condoms. When, yesterday, she had tried to venture out as Kandy she had brashly put them in her purse. When, today, she was checking her purse before her date with April she had, shamefacedly? hopefully?, left them in there. So now it was a simple matter to open her purse, shove the money inside, remove a condom and roll it on the prick. So far so good.

Kandy had never performed a blowjob before. In fact, apart from a little you stroke mine and I'll stroke yours when Kenny was passing through puberty, this was the first erect prick, other than her own, that she had seen, but she did have a couple of things going for her. The first was a brief, though satisfying, affair with a girl who wanted to remain a virgin till she married, but who had been willing, even eager, to suck Kenny's dick.

The second thing Kandy had going for her was Kenny's brief, but intense, flirtation with magic. Kenny had once been given a magic set for his birthday and had become fascinated with all facets of the magician's art. Although he could manage the sleight of hand, his shyness had always stymied his act. Patter is so much a part of the magician's performance that a lack of stage presence is crippling. There was, however, one trick he had mastered and which had stood him in good stead throughout his teen-age years. Kenny was an expert sword-swallower. His friends had been amazed at his ability to swallow a three- foot piece of sword-shaped plastic. All through school and college he had gained a reputation as, rather than 'that berk Kenny', as 'that berk Kenny who can swallow swords, chug-alug beer, or win the yard of ale contest without spilling a drop.'

There are two tricks to sword-swallowing. The first trick is the ability to open your throat and let whatever is in your mouth go straight down into your stomach. The second trick is to suppress the body's natural aversion to swallowing something it can't get all the way down and which might not really be edible. The key to the second part is taste. You know when you kiss someone for the first time, when your mouths open and your tongues begin to dance, saliva mixes with saliva and tiny chemical reactions take place and there comes a moment when you melt into each other. This is the moment when your body ceases to regard the other person as foreign and accepts them as part of yourself.

Whenever Kenny was performing his sword swallowing act he would kiss and lick the object he was swallowing, trying to cover it with his own saliva in order to fool his tongue, his palate and his throat into believing that this was not a foreign object he was ingesting, this was part of himself.

This was the experience Kandy now put into action.

She squatted down on her haunches and, overcoming a moment of fearful nausea, kissed and licked the prick. When she'd coated it with warm saliva she slipped the head in her mouth and began to move her lips up and down whilst jacking the shaft with her right hand and caressing the balls with the fingers of her left hand. These were tricks Kandy had learned from Kenny's one-time girlfriend. When her 'date' got more urgent, grabbing Kandy's head, and thrusting deeper, she simply applied her sword-swallowing techniques, and although the prick was thicker than any sword she had swallowed before, in truth she was more concerned about losing her wig to the man's grasping hands than about her ability to swallow whatever came her way.

Her hands were gripping his buttocks and her nose was pressed into his smelly underwear when she began to sense the telltale signs of his orgasm. She increased the speed of her throat movement and was rewarded with the clenching of his buttocks and the spasming of his cock, and then as she felt the urgency of his thrusts abate and the softening of the cock in her mouth, she had slowly eased off the prick and stood up.

Slobba leaned back against the wall of the alley and tried to gather his wits. That had been the most amazing blowjob he had ever experienced and when his senses began to recover he started to plead with the hooker to leave her dismal life and come away with him. Eventually, in the face of her indifference, he had settled on giving her some more money in return for her promise that she would be here at the same time tomorrow night. She had taken the money and smiled sweetly at him, then walked down the alley towards the light, stopped and sensually touched up her lipstick, looked back at him and smiled again, then disappeared into the night.

When Kandy stood back from her 'lover' she was feeling very mixed emotions. She knew that she should be feeling disgusted. She was feeling disgusted. Wasn't she? But the feeling that was uppermost in her mind was a tremendous sense of pride. With the skill of her mouth and hands she had reduced this huge ugly brute of a man to a knock-kneed quivering jabbering wreck.

She looked at the obscenely bulging tip of the condom as it clung to the softening prick and thanked heaven for her foresight in bringing the rubbers. Quite apart from the health risks, that amount of cum would surely have choked her. When the man had ceased jabbering in whatever language he was speaking, and handed her more money, she had taken it as her due, but beneath the satisfaction of a job well done, there was a debate raging.

'You just sucked off a man!' ... 'Yeah, but the money was good.' 'That makes you a whore!' ... 'Look, he'd of killed us if we hadn't done it. Now stop whingeing and be grateful we're still alive.' 'Yes, but you just sucked off a man! And you're proud of yourself!'

Kandy moved into a lighter part of the alley and, feeling she might be a bit of a mess, decided to tidy up. She straightened her hair and patched up her make- up as best she could in the dimness, then looked back down the alley at the brute still leaning, exhausted against the wall. She smiled nervously at him and figured she'd better get out of there before he woke up and decided he wanted his money back.

As she reached the end of the alley she was startled by a voice from the shadows.

'Nice job back there, Honey. Nice job.'

It was the man from the restaurant, and he'd seen everything!

...........

Hancock had finally escaped the restaurant and was wandering disconsolately back to his car when a flash of red from the back of an alley had caught his attention. Moving silently down the alley he had seen the girl take the money from the giant, squat down in front of him, and give him an amazingly professional blow-job. It was the 'girl' from the restaurant, and any doubts that Hancock had about her profession were instantly dispelled. She was a hooker all right, and judging by the look on the big ape's face, she was a very very good one, and Hancock knew that he had to have a piece of her. Soon.

He'd kicked himself for startling her with his compliment, and moved swiftly to recover his ground, slipping an arm around her waist and caressing her hip.

'That was amazing to watch. You're real good. I'm Hancock.'

'Uh hi. I'm Kandy.'

'Pleased to meet you Kandy. Where're you staying.'

Kandy told him the name of the hotel and he was a bit surprised. It was out of his way, and he didn't think that class of hotel would be pleased if Kandy brought her work back there. Still, there were plenty of alternatives.

'Need a ride, Kandy.'

Kandy was pretty confused. The 'compliments' Hancock was paying her were causing her deep embarrassment. She could feel the blush suffuse her from head to toe. She didn't realise that Hancock couldn't see a trace of it through the layers of foundation on her chest and face, and he thought that when she ducked her head away from his gaze, she was merely acting modest.

On the other hand, she knew that throughout dinner - purely because of the wine on her part - that she and Hancock had been playing the game, dancing the dance. In her previous life, courtship meant weeks of tentative eye contact from across a crowded room before one or other of the participants gathered the nerve to speak. It seemed to Kandy that she had only been a woman for two hours and men were throwing themselves at her. True, they thought she was a hooker, but even that was a kind of compliment. They wanted her so much that they would give her money.

Hancock was tall, though not as big as the animal lurking back in the alley, and the feel of his arm round her was comforting to Kandy. She was aware that in America a ride was what she would call a lift and a lift back to her hotel would be very welcome. If the man wanted something from her in return, well she had done it once and she could do it again. At least this one was good-looking.

Kandy accepted Hancock's help into the car and sat back in the comfy seat. It was then that she became aware of the ache in her thighs from the unaccustomed squatting, and the relief she felt when she took the weight off her shoes. She tried to make conversation with him but the physical comfort had woken up her mental demons.

'You're going to do it again!' ... 'Look, it's just a lift back to the hotel.' 'But if he wants more you'll do it won't you.' .. 'I might have to. But once we get back to the hotel and get rid of him it'll all be over.' 'Huh! So you say. You even think he's good looking!' ... 'Well he is, dammit, and there's nothing wrong with thinking a man is good looking. It's perfectly natural, and it doesn't mean I want to do anything with him.'

Conversation in the car had been desultory. Hancock asked where she was from and she told him. He said she seemed new to all this and she agreed. He asked if she was enjoying herself and she said 'Yes, very much.' It was one of those conversations where each party is coming from totally different assumptions, and the misunderstandings were piling up. As far as Kandy was concerned she was just being polite, but to Hancock her replies confirmed that she was new to the game, and being the kindly soul that he was, he thought he'd help her out.

When they pulled up and Kandy took a look round she realised they were not at her hotel. It was a light industrial business park, busy by day but at this time of night, deserted.

'Where are we?'

'This is where the girls bring their tricks.' said the helpful Hancock. 'Now how much for one of those amazing blow jobs?'

'Well...uh...I'm not really...uh.'

'Twenty bucks o.k.'

'It's just that...I mean...uh'

'Forty then.'

Kandy sighed. 'O.K.'

Hancock slid back his seat as far as it would go then tilted the backrest till it was almost horizontal. Undoing his belt and zipper he pushed his pants and shorts down to his knees and beckoned Kandy over. She tentatively held out her hand and Hancock understood the gesture. Ever helpful to the new girl, he explained that in America you did the job first and then got paid, so Kandy slid across the seat and wormed her way into the driver's foot well. The conversation had left his prick semi-soft, but when she leant forward and tickled his balls with the tips of her long plastic nails he immediately stood to attention.

Kandy found herself, for the second time that night, inches from a male member. She took a condom out of her purse, but the prick did not seem hard enough to roll it on. She was reluctant to touch it as it was covered in sticky pre-cum. She knew from experience that this was from being up and down for ages, and marvelled again at her ability to cause that reaction in a man. Eventually she reached out a tentative hand, tickled his balls and watched with quiet satisfaction as he immediately become throbbingly erect. She quickly rolled the condom down and began to make friends with her assignment.

Hancock settled back in his seat to enjoy himself. He had left the dome light on so he could watch the action and he was tempted to take off Kandy's wig so that it didn't obscure his vision, but as she kissed and licked and tickled him he was forced to close his eyes, and when she suddenly took him down her throat in one smooth motion, his eyes rolled back into his head and watching became the farthest thing from his mind.

As Kandy licked and sucked she noticed that Hancock's dick was longer and slightly thicker than her previous experience, and this had set her a challenge. Deciding to meet the challenge head on - so to speak - she opted to dispense with the bobbing and caressing part and go straight to the main event.

'Oh God Kandy! Oh Fuck! Oh shit oh fuck oh god oh no oooohhhh!'

..........

Kandy had moved back to her seat and was repairing her face. When she had finished, as best she could, she took out a cigarette and, mindful of her earlier experience, looked enquiringly at the supine figure of Hancock. He nodded weakly and murmured, 'You go ahead Kandy.' so she sat back and smoked. She'd been amazed at Hancock's reaction to her ministrations. The power she'd felt as he screamed and squirmed in response to her every move had given her more exhilaration than she had ever experienced. When he'd been forced to pull her up from her deep dive while he came, she had bobbed and stroked and drawn as much as she could out of him before plunging down on him for an agonising few seconds that sent him screaming into orbit once more and emptied his balls again.

The only disturbing thing was the awareness that she had been hard as a rock since she'd first touched his beautiful cock. As she came down from the exhilarating high she'd experienced, her internal debate was threatening to start up again, so she was relieved when Hancock had pulled himself together and adjusted his seat upright again.

She looked over at him and, with a shy little smile, asked, 'Was that O.K?'

He laughed and said, 'You're priceless Kandy. You are priceless. That was not o.k., that was un-fuckin-believable. That was in-fuckin-credible. That was the best. That was the absolute fuckin best!'

She laughed delightedly and he laughed with her and for a minute or two they shared a wonderful closeness. Then Hancock had fished in his pocket and handed her a fifty. She put it in her purse and started looking for change. 'Keep it Kandy. It was worth every penny.' Then he put his arm round her shoulder, gave her a squeeze, started the car and they drove away.

'Can you drop me at a phone please Hancock?' Kandy wanted to call a cab and get back to her hotel before anything else happened.

'Sure Kandy. Be glad to.' The ever-helpful Hancock knew exactly where to drop her.

She'd been worried he was going to kiss her, back at the business park, and even more worried what her reaction might be, so she was glad when he pulled the car over and said his goodbyes.

'Thanks Hancock, you've been very kind.'

'Thank you Kandy honey. That was the best time I've had in a long while. I'll see you around here again, and soon. Bye now honey.'

She got out of the car and waved to Hancock as he drove off, then she straightened her clothes and looked around for a phone. There was one on the corner, but between her and the booth were a group of girls and Kandy recognised them as hookers. 'Like you.' said a disapproving voice in her head, and as she got closer she realised that some of them - maybe all of them - were hookers exactly like her. TV, TS and she-male hookers. This must be why Hancock had dropped her off here. He must have figured that this was where she 'worked' and that was why he'd promised to meet her round here again.

Alarm bells started ringing in Kandy's head and she stopped her approach. Suppose the 'girls' didn't take kindly to a stranger on their patch? Suppose they kidnapped her and took her to a pimp who got her addicted to crack cocaine and made her work here forever?

As she was trying to decide whether to turn and run or to try walking past them to the phone, a car pulled up beside her and the window slid down.

'Hi Baby. Feel like some fun.'

Kandy looked through the car window at the small, slender, dapper man who had spoken. She looked back at the girls and was alarmed to see they were coming towards her as fast as their tight skirts and five inch heels would allow. She glanced again at the smiling face of the driver and leaned through the open window to get a closer look.

'How does a hundred sound?' he said.

'Fine.' said Kandy and opened the door, slid into the seat, and quickly shut the door.

'I'm John,' said the driver, 'You new round here?'

'Kandy,' she replied. 'Pleased to meet you John. Uh yeah, this is my first night'

'Sweet.' he said, and pulled away.

The girls had seen the guy drop off the stranger. They'd been a little concerned he might be a pimp, but a couple of them had recognised Hancock and pronounced everything cool. They didn't hold with pimps in this little sisterhood and although theirs was a competitive world they tended to stick together.

They were preparing to welcome the new girl into their midst when they saw Big John's car pull up. They all liked Big John. He paid well and, if a girl did a good job, he tipped well so they rushed up to say hello, and maybe get picked by him tonight. They were disappointed, and maybe a bit surprised, that John had picked the new girl. John usually went for glamour and femininity, often selecting a big titted she-male like Cheryl, and the stranger didn't seem his type at all. They were also concerned that if she was that new she may not be able to handle him. As Cheryl put it: 'I sure hope her pussy can take a pounding, cos that's what it's gonna get tonight!' Big John was not known as Big John for nothing.

.........

In the car there was an awkward silence. The early introductions were over and both occupants were deep in thought.

John was trying to think of a way to let the girl down easy. When he'd seen her on the corner there had been something about her that had instantly attracted him, but now she was in the car he could see that she definitely wasn't his type. Maybe he could offer her twenty bucks and drop her off somewhere. The trouble was he was horny, and if he went back for Cheryl, who he'd intended to fuck that night, Kandy would lose a lot of face with her friends. The other thing that struck him was that she could obviously use the money. A new wig and a makeover would do for a start.

Kandy was trying to work up the nerve to tell John it was all a mistake and could he please drop her off by a phone. Maybe she could offer him money to make up for his wasted time. He seemed like a nice guy, and all he'd have to do was drive back and pick up one of the other girls.

As John pulled the car up in front of the short time motel they turned to each other and at exactly the same time said: 'Look...'

Then they smiled at each other, as people do when that happens, and John laughed and Kandy giggled and John felt a major twitch in his pants and said to himself; 'Oh well. What the hell.' and got out of the car.

Kandy stayed in the car. She was beginning to put together the hundred-dollar price and the motel room, and realised that maybe one of her special blowjobs might not be enough. Then John had opened her door and offered her his hand and she said to herself: 'Oh well. Here we go again.' And the funny thing was, she felt a major twitch in her panties as well.

John stuck his hand up the back of her skirt and stroked her ass as he guided her into the motel.

At the desk the clerk said 'Hi Big John. How long for you tonight.'

'Make it an hour Freddie'

While John sorted out the room, Kandy looked around the place. Freddie had the most piercings on a single human being that she had ever seen and, since she'd been in San Francisco, she'd seen a lot. In the corner was a pay phone but it was currently occupied by a hooker, a slight, pretty, blonde woman with big tits. In any case it was too late to use the phone. John had paid for the room. But Kandy promised herself that when she finished this one she would go straight to that phone and get back to her hotel. One more hour and it would all be over. Thank God.

As John guided her to the room - still with his hand on her ass - she wryly reflected on her progress. She'd started her career that night in an alley by the garbage cans, and progressed to a motel room already.

John had managed to get a couple of cokes from the machine in reception and as soon as they entered the room he handed her one. She popped the tab and swigged back half of the can, then realised she needed a pee. The bathroom was not the cleanest she'd seen but she sat and relieved herself gratefully. By the time she got back to the room, John had got comfortable and was lying on the bed, naked. Naked and hard.

'I can see why Freddie calls you Big John,' she said.

Kandy's plan was to give John one of her special blowjobs and hope to get away with that but, looking at the size of the sword she needed to swallow, she wasn't sure that she could manage. Still, she had to try. The alternative didn't bear thinking about.

She knelt down between his legs and took the monster in her hand. He had already put on a condom, he preferred his own brand, so she began to get acquainted. This close she could see that is wasn't any longer than Hancock's had been but it certainly was thicker. She'd rationalised that it was only John's slight frame which had made the thing look gigantic but as she struggled to produce enough saliva to cover the cock to her taste, she realised that had been wishful thinking.

John lay back and watched Kandy slavering over his cock, enjoying the hot wet feeling of her tongue bath, and when she put the head in her mouth he sighed with pleasure. When she lifted off her knees and onto the balls of her feet, her body jacknifed and her neck lined straight above his prick, and then eased her head slowly downwards he watched in amazement. When her nose was buried in his pubic hairs he was ecstatic. For a long count of five she held his cock deep in her throat, still swallowing, then just when the sensations became to much for him to bear, she pushed herself up with her hands and eased his prick out of her mouth.

She looked up at him and in a hoarse whisper said; 'I did it. I fucking did it.' Then she proceeded to give him one of the best blowjobs of his life. Twice more she plunged him in to the hilt, and when he came he thought he'd gone to heaven. Finally she went to the bathroom, picked up some tissues, came back and cleaned the condom off his cock.

John was out of it for a few minutes, and when he came round he watched Kandy affectionately. She'd repaired her lipstick and was sat at the dresser smoking and studying herself in the mirror. All his doubts about her were gone and he thanked his lucky stars that he'd followed his original instincts and stayed with this one. He waited until she'd finished her smoke then quietly told her: 'That was fantastic baby. You are one hot lady. One hot talented lady.'

Kandy had indeed been studying herself in the mirror. She knew that after tonight she was changed, changed forever, and she was trying to pick out the physical evidence of that change. There was definitely something different in her reflection, but she could not quite pin it down. John's voice brought her out of her reverie and she turned and smiled at him, then she slipped off the stool, walked over to the bed and sat next to him. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. After a brief internal struggle, she allowed herself to slide close to him on the bed, understanding, for the first time since infancy, the meaning of the verb to nestle.

They lay together for a full ten minutes before John leaned over and whispered in her ear. 'Ready for round two, baby.' And she looked down to see his manhood rising to its full extent again.

John got off the bed and stretched a fresh condom over his prick. He pulled Kandy off the bed, unzipped her skirt and held her hand while she stepped out of it. When he'd carefully folded the skirt and put it on a chair, he pulled Kandy's panties down and watched as her cock sprang out. He fetched another condom, tossed the package to her and said: 'Put that on baby. Then sit on the bed and start lubing your ass.'

'Uh...I don't have any lube.'

'You girls! Out on the street peddlin your ass and you don't have no lube!'

He rummaged in the dresser draw and pulled out a half used tube of KY. Freddie, the desk clerk, was good like that, always leaving condoms and KY in the rooms for emergencies. He'd been there himself, still was occasionally, and knew what it was like to get caught short.

John arranged Kandy into position on the bed and watched as she tentatively played with her hole. 'Get those fingers in Kandy! Lube that passage! Stretch that ass! You need it wide and wet to take this thing.' He stroked himself as he watched Kandy push one, then two, then three fingers in to herself and begin to move them up and down. 'Faster baby,' he told her, 'Faster!'

John loved this bit, watching the girl lying back with her legs splayed, pushing her fingers in and out. He was fascinated by the female image from the hair piled high and the made up face to the legs covered in hose with the sexy shoes at one end and the garter belt at the other, and in the centre, standing out like a sore thumb, the dick. Cheryl would have been naked on top, occasionally playing with her pretty tits, but her dick was getting smaller and didn't get that hard any more. Some you win, some you lose.

Kandy, in her former life, had briefly experimented with anal play, first her fingers, then a hairbrush, then an oddly shaped shampoo bottle and finally the handle of a large screwdriver. She had some idea that it might get her closer to the female experience, but it had done nothing for her and she had quickly become ashamed and then disgusted and had never tried anything since.

Now as she lay on the bed, legs spread as she tried to comply with John's orders, the shame and disgust were back. The relaxing effect of the bottle of wine had dissipated along with the exhilaration she'd felt with her earlier exploits. Even the comfort she'd felt as she'd nestled close to John, with his slim but strong arms around her, had faded away. Now, obscenely splayed, trying to look as if she was enjoying herself, trying to force the lube as deep as she could, watching John watching her as he stroked his monster, she felt real fear.

She should have tried to talk John out of it. He would surely have listened to reason. She could even have made a run for the door. She doubted that John would have chased after her. He was not a bad man. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to rape her. He just wanted to fuck her ass. The problem was that deep down, beneath the fear, beneath the shame, beneath the disgust, in some strange masochistic way, Kandy wanted to be fucked. She even wanted to be fucked by John. She just didn't want to be fucked by that prick.

And then it was time.

John positioned Kandy how he wanted her, face down with her hips propped up by pillows and her knees bent. Then he placed the head of his cock at her anus and began to gently push.

'No John!'

'Relax baby. I ain't even started.'

'It hurts John'

'Easy baby. Hey women have babies out of a hole no bigger than this.'

'Stop John! Let me get used to it.'

'You've taken the head baby. If you can take it down your throat, you can sure take it up your ass.'

'No John! Stop John! Oh fuck John! Christ! No! Jesus! Fuck!'

And then it was in. And Kandy was fucked.

...........

'You need to make a move now baby. We've only got the room for an hour and it's gone that now.'

John had lain on top of her for a while then he'd got up and cleaned himself up. He'd carefully removed the full condom from Kandy's cock, wiped her ass with a soapy cloth and patted her dry. He'd even found some talcum powder in the bathroom and dusted her ass and thighs. He'd stood her up and got her into her panties and skirt and led her over to the dresser. She was sitting there now, trying to repair her make up where her face had rubbed along the bed as John's cock had plunged in and out of her, but she was having trouble concentrating.

John had given her a hundred dollars and added a fifty-dollar tip, and although she'd wanted to give it back, she'd taken it and put it in her purse. He'd put an arm round her and hugged her and kissed her on the forehead and told her she'd been great, and she'd turned to him and smiled a dreamy smile and thanked him and she wanted him to kiss her, but he'd smiled back at her and thanked her again and said goodbye and walked out of the room.

Eventually she gave up on her face and listened to that tiny voice in her head, which was desperately trying to get her attention. 'Phone.'

She walked down the corridor, not having to think about swinging her hips, and smiled at Freddie as she walked over to the phone, only to find the same blonde hooker still talking away. Kandy moved to the side of the phone to try and catch the blonde's eye. The woman looked at Kandy, smiled, and turned back to her conversation, and then she looked at Kandy again, smiled again, muttered 'I'll call you back' into the receiver and hung up.

Kandy, still somewhere in dreamland after her experience with John, was totally unprepared for what happened next.

The blonde woman put her arms round Kandy's waist, pulled her close and said: 'Hi honey. I'm Annie. You look like you're ready to party.' Then she slipped a hand under Kandy's skirt and started to stroke her cock.

Kandy, who'd firmly believed that nothing else could happen to her that night, once again allowed herself to be led down the corridor of the sleazy motel with a hand up her skirt stroking her buttocks. This time the hand was small and female, but it was as firm in its guidance as Big John's larger male hand.

...........

Annie had been at her wit's end. Desiree, her regular partner at this sort of party, had given up the life and split and Annie had been trying to get hold of a replacement. It seemed that every TV and she-male in the city was doing something else that night. She'd seen the girl with Big John earlier and not paid much attention but now the party was less than an hour away and she still hadn't found a partner. Suddenly, out of the blue, here was the answer waiting to use the phone. The girl's make up was a mess, her clothes were wrinkled and her wig was all over the place, but Annie was confident she could fix her up enough before the party started. The girl had a far away look on her face, but she'd heard from Desi that an hour with Big John could do that to a girl. Hell, if she could handle Big John, then nothing at the party was going to bother her.

There was one more thing that Annie needed to check. Some of the guests at this party professed to being straight with tiny bi leanings, hence Annie's presence, but Annie knew that the she-male half of the partnership would get a lot more attention than the female, and the one thing the men liked in a girly boy was a stiff dick. When Annie put her hand up the girl's skirt and felt the dick begin to stiffen she knew she had found her replacement.

When they got to the motel's only suite Annie quickly stripped Kandy, cleaned off her make-up, and pushed her into the shower. By the time Kandy had soaped and rinsed, Annie was back, pulling her out of the spray and drying and powdering her. She shoved a razor in Kandy's hand with instructions to shave her face then, when that was done, she dressed her again in her underwear, with a clean pair of stockings, settled her down by the dresser and quickly and efficiently made up her face.

Each step of the way she found something to compliment Kandy on.

'Smooth skin.' 'Nice legs.' 'Trim butt.'

As she applied the cosmetics, which she retrieved from a voluminous bag she'd brought with her, she explained each step to Kandy. 'This foundation is not quite your shade but it will do for now.' 'With your eyes you need liner top and bottom and at least two shades of shadow. See they come in pairs. Light here shading to dark here. But not too much, never too much.' She'd already ruthlessly plucked Kandy's eyebrows to a thin arch. 'With deep set eyes like yours, bushy eyebrows will hide them completely.' She carefully outlined Kandy's mouth with lip-liner then filled in the colour with lipstick. 'Don't try and make your lips bigger than they are. That only works in photos. This shade really brings you out. Here, pop this in your purse. You'll need it later.'

She helped Kandy into her top and skirt - which had somehow magically been pressed - and she ran her fingers through Kandy's hair. 'I could do something with this, but we don't have time tonight.' So she had fitted Kandy's wig back on and tweaked and teased and sprayed it till it looked better than it had in the shop. She put Kandy's breast forms in a bag, 'They'll only get lost later,' and teased as much of Kandy's chest fat as she could into the cups of the bra. One of Kandy's chinese lanterns had disappeared. 'Don't you just hate it when that happens, honey? You'll have to get your ears pierced Kandy, then you can borrow mine.' But she rummaged in a bag and somehow found a pair of pearl clip- ons, and she added a few of Kandy's rings and bangles, leaving the more garish plastic ones behind. When Kandy finally looked in the mirror she was stunned and delighted.

The whole exercise had been handled so smoothly that, Kandy realised, although she had discovered a lot about being a woman that day there was still an awful lot to learn.

...........

Annie and Kandy were sitting on one of the beds in the motel's only suite. They were smoking, drinking vodka and cokes, and talking - at least Annie was talking and Kandy was listening. Annie was explaining how Desi, her regular partner, had 'gone Benjamin' which Kandy finally understood to mean living full time as a woman - with a regular job, taking regular hormones and having regular psycho- analysis.

Kandy had quickly realised that the party was not going to be between her and Annie, but between the two of them and the male guests who would be arriving soon. Kandy knew that she could just get up and leave, but she stayed. She wasn't staying because the woman had been kind - though she had been kind - nor because she had been promised a lot of money - though she had - not even because she was in awe of Annie - though her awe bordered on worship. No, Kandy stayed because some time during this strange night's events she had lost control of her life. Somehow life had taken control of her and she seemed compelled to act out each bizarre scene to the end.

As Annie rattled on, Kandy was only listening with half her mind. Her thoughts kept drifting back to John. Annie had earlier asked if she'd had fun. Fun was not the word. Joy? Pain, certainly. Joy through pain? Completion, fulfilment, transcendence. When Kenny - poor Kenny who was now a distant memory, someone she hardly knew - when Kenny had tried his anal play he'd never come close to the depths that John had found tonight. Somehow Kandy knew that whatever toys she pushed up her ass she could never repeat the feeling of a real man filling her to her soul. When she'd orgasmed - perhaps through friction on the pillows beneath her hips, perhaps because John had touched her in a place she didn't know she had - the feeling as her sphincter, her poor, sore, stretched sphincter, spasmed around the invading weapon, had so overloaded her brain that she had moved beyond consciousness to place she never knew existed. A place of pain and joy. A place of completion and fulfilment. A place of transcendence. A place of change. Kandy had been changed forever.

.............

The door to the suite burst open and a huge black man swept in, filling the room with his presence. Annie leapt up from the bed and went to him, arms open wide.

'Uncle George, honey. Trust you to be first.'

'Angelica! Darling! How have you been my dearest! Mwaa. Mwaa. And who is this gorgeous creature!'

'Kandy. Meet Uncle George.'

No arms length inspection for Kandy. No mwaa mwaa air kiss. As soon as she stood from the bed, Kandy found herself swept into George's arms. Instantly his mouth found hers and his tongue was forcing it's way between her lips.

George was not one of Annie's guests who thought he might be a little bit bi. George knew exactly where his sexuality lay, and this little creature looked like fun!

Kenny's parents probably loved him. it's just that they never showed it. They probably loved each other but Kenny had never seen them show that love. As an only child, he'd never experienced the sibling wrestling matches that helped establish the bonds - and the pecking order - in a family. Kenny may not have been starved of affection, but in the prim, proper undemonstrative bosom of his family he'd never been hugged.

Kandy had probably been hugged more times today than Kenny had in the previous ten years, so as she melted into George's embrace with their tongues writhing together and his growing erection pressing into her belly, Kandy felt ashamed of her initial burst of fear at the huge man's entrance and she wanted to give him something in return. And Kandy, being Kandy, decided to give him the thing that she did best.

Annie was watching the couple with a smile of affection on her face, so when Kandy moved her hand from George's back, formed a circle with her fingers and jerked them up and down, then burrowed her hand between them and began to unzip his pants, she had quickly guessed what Kandy wanted. By the time George's prick was free she was ready with a Trojan and rolling it on.

When Kandy squatted on her haunches and began to give him a tongue bath George and Annie had exchanged delighted smiles, but when she'd lined him up and slowly inched her mouth down his prick till her nose had burrowed through his zipper into the fly of his boxers and was nestling in the short, black, curly hairs of his groin their reactions were very different.

Annie gasped, one hand going to her mouth and the other between her legs, rubbing and squeezing and burrowing, as she was overtaken by the sheer eroticism of the sight before her.

George simply threw back his head and let out a long low moan.

After what seemed, to the participants, like an eternity, Kandy slowly pulled herself back, finally slipping her mouth off the head with a loud, slurping plop and leaving a thread of saliva bridging the gap between her lips and the helmet. She looked up at George with a shy smile and said in her soft, hoarse whisper: "Pleased to meet you Uncle George."

George looked down at Kandy, then over at Annie, then back down at Kandy again. Then he threw back his head and at the top of his voice yelled:

'Whoooooweeeeeee! I am in lurve!'

The party had got of to a great start.

...........

Kandy awoke to a world of pain. No.

Kandy awoke to a world of ache. Aching muscles, aching head, aching jaw, aching feet.

Kandy awoke to a world of sore. Sore ass, sore throat, sore dick, sore dick? Sore ass, sore head, sore throat. Sore ass.

She began to remember the party. Kandy had been a popular girl at the party. Everyone had wanted to watch her party trick, and everyone, well almost everyone, had wanted to experience it first hand. When the novelty of that had worn off a little, everyone, well almost everyone, had wanted to fuck. Annie had done her share of course, but for many of the boys, especially Uncle George - ah Uncle George - Annie did not have the requisite equipment.

There had been one man, the weirdo, who'd just sat in a chair, stroking himself and watching. Then later, as the party began to develop, the weirdo had moved from watching to directing. There was a picture in Kandy's mind. A tableau. Don had been fucking Kandy who'd been fucking Annie who'd been sucking Joe. Oh yes, and Kandy had been sucking George. And the voyeur had been jerking as fast as he could and shouting at the top of his voice. 'Fuck! Suck! Fuck! Suck! Cut!'

Kandy awoke again to her aches and pains and soreness, and this time she opened her eyes.

She was in bed, in a room she didn't recognise, and above the faint sounds of traffic - of normal life - she could hear the regular breathing, feel the slight shifting body weight, of another person in the bed with her. Smiling, knowing who she would see, Kandy turned her head to look at the sleeping form. Annie.

Carefully, so as not to disturb her partner, her lover, her friend, Kandy had slipped out of bed and started to explore her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was a full length mirror built into a closet door so she stopped in front of it and studied her image. Naked, devoid of make-up, with only the thin arched eyebrows to differentiate this image from the one she had woken up to yesterday, Kandy had looked into the mirror and seen ... Kandy.

Kandy looked like shit.

Grimacing at the image, she explored the tiny apartment until she found the bathroom. Once finished there, she sought out the kitchen and started some coffee brewing. Annie, sweet Annie, had left everything ready. The woman was wonderful.

As she waited for the coffee to brew, her attention had been caught by a clock/radio on a shelf. She looked at it for a while, and then finally figured out its message. Two-thirty. Something inside her was curious about this message, and she moved closer. There was a tiny light in the corner of the display, and next to it was the legend PM. Ah, she thought, it's two-thirty PM. Somewhere deep within Kandy's brain, Kenny was screaming to get out. At six twenty-five PM Kenny was due to board a plane to Denver on the first leg of his journey home.

Kandy's lassitude was swept away by a sudden surge of adrenaline.

Four hours. Less than four hours. Kandy needed a plan.

Right. Get a cab to the hotel, change, pick up the suitcases and get a cab to the airport. No problem.

First things first, money. She went back to the bedroom and saw her purse on the dresser. When she opened it she was shocked to see the number and denomination of the notes inside. She pulled out her wallet, intending to put away the notes only to find that it, too, was crammed with money. She giggled to herself. 'You were a very busy girl last night.'

The next item on the agenda was clothes. Moving carefully round the room, so as not to disturb the sleeping Annie, Kandy found her skirt, top and waist cincher folded neatly on a chair. Her shoes were parked tidily beneath the chair and her jewellery, including the pretty pearl clip-ons, was piled neatly on the dresser. There was no sign of her underwear, wig or breast forms.

As quietly as she could, Kandy began opening drawers and closets. She found pretty lingerie, corsets, garter belts and stockings. She found mini-skirts, mini dresses and tight plunging tops. There were a couple of wigs in the top of the closet. One was a long flowing blonde number and the other was an auburn mass of curls. There was no sign of trousers, jackets or coats. No sign of casual T-shirts, pretty blouses or longer skirts. There was not even a pair of pantyhose in the place.

There was one outfit separate from the rest. Plain cotton bra and panties, jeans, T-shirt, leather jacket and a pair of flats. They looked, even to Kandy's untutored eye, smaller than the other clothes. She tried the jeans anyway but could not get them past her thighs. She guessed, correctly, that these were Annie's day wear and that meant that this was not Annie's apartment.

'So this is Desi's place,' she thought, 'But why doesn't she have any normal clothes!'

She remembered Annie telling her that Desi had 'gone Benjamin'. Presumably that meant that she had taken anything resembling normal clothes with her and left behind any reminder of her former life.

Eventually Kandy struggled into her waist cinch and borrowed some of Desi's underwear and hose. Everything fitted well, but she had to adjust the straps on the garter belt. The auburn wig also needed a few adjustments but soon Kandy was happy with it and, taking it off, began to do her face.

She had found Annie's make up bag and the care she took to match everything with her complexion the auburn wig and the red dress she intended to borrow from Desi's closet - at least as best she could - was a tribute to Annie's lessons, and Kandy's appreciation of them.

In the back of her mind, Kenny was screaming; 'Hurry up you stupid cow!'

The dress was the longest in Desi's wardrobe - only six inches above the knee - and with the least plunging neckline. It fitted well, though the tightness of the skirt restricted her stride and it was a little empty on top. She added some jewellery - including the pearl clip-ons - teased her hair a little, forced her aching feet into the red sandals and picked up her purse.

She took a long, loving look at the gently snoring figure on the bed. Since she had first awoken, Kandy had longed to wake Annie and hug her, kiss her, thank her and beg her help, but she would look at the sleeping figure and be unable to disturb her well-earned rest.

Kandy knew that with Annie's organisational skills her problems would be solved in minutes, but her friend needed the rest. And besides, this was something Kandy could do alone. She had already revised her plan to include coming back to the apartment and returning Desi's clothes and there would be time then to wake Annie and have a long, tearful, loving farewell. So she took one, last, lingering look at the sleeping woman's beautiful face and made her way to the phone.

She found the number of a cab company on a pad by the phone and dialled, giving the name of her hotel.

'Where from?'

'Uh...'

'Where are you Honey?'

There was an envelope on the table addressed to Ms Desiree Jones, so she read out the address and, after she'd hung up, quickly jotted it down on the notepad in her wallet and left the apartment.

As she waited outside for the cab she wished she had her topcoat, but it was still at the stupid restaurant. She considered stopping on the way to pick it up, but was put off by the hassle of proving it was hers and the fear of meeting the ugly brute who had started her off in her new career last night. Anyway, it didn't really suit her.

..........

The hotel had needed Kenny's room - he should have checked out by midday - so a maid had packed his suitcases and they were in the office behind the reception desk. The bill was quickly settled - Kenny had not used room service and the lodging was paid in advance - and the luggage was fetched from the office.

Kandy politely asked for somewhere to change and the desk clerk was checking for an empty room, when in walked the hotel manager. He was certainly not having a hooker like that staying in his hotel and made his views known immediately.

'What's she doing in my hotel! Get her out of here! Now!'

So Kandy found herself hustled on to the pavement with her luggage dumped unceremoniously beside her. By the time the desk clerk had explained the situation to the manager and he had gone outside to apologise and offer a room to change in, Kandy was in a cab and headed back to Desi's place.

Kandy knocked on the door with increasing desperation. She'd tried the bell, she'd tried yelling, she'd tried hammering with the heel of her shoe but nothing she tried would wake Annie. In the end she was forced to conclude that her friend had already awoken and gone home while Kandy was travelling backwards and forwards to the hotel. Reluctantly, disconsolately, she made her way back out to the street.

She wasn't to know that the envelope she had copied had been mis-addressed and that the door she'd been assaulting, next to Desi's, belonged to a drug dealer who was currently trying to arrange bail.

The only plan she could come up with was to get a cab to the airport and find somewhere to change. She was walking down the road, looking for a phone, and trying to decide whether to go into the men's restroom dressed as a woman and come out dressed as a man or to go into the women's restroom and have to exit the stall as Kenny, when she spotted the motel.

A stroke of luck at last! She could rent a room for an hour, change and be off to the Airport in no time.

Raoul had been hanging out with Billie, the daytime desk clerk at the motel, when the hooker came in and booked a room. She looked tired and frazzled and didn't appear to have a John so, being a gentleman, Raoul picked up her suitcases and carried them down the corridor. As they walked they exchanged introductions and when they got to the room, Kandy offered him a tip.

Raoul refused the money, but on a whim - a whim driven by the urgent boner in his pants - asked; 'Hey honey. You workin?'

'No Raoul. I'm ...'

'Come on honey. Just a quick fuck. Fifty bucks. Whadya say?'

Kandy looked at Raoul. He wasn't handsome. He was middle-aged with a beer belly and his greying hair was combed forward to try and cover the bald spots, but he was smiling a nice smile and had an eager, expectant look on his stubbly face. He was, Kandy decided, a nice man.

In a few short hours Kenny would be on his way home and Kandy would be on her way to becoming a distant memory. Kandy knew that once back in his familiar surroundings, Kenny - an older and wiser Kenny but still Kenny - would take over their lives. In less than twenty-four hours Kandy had experienced more sex in more ways than Kenny ever had or would, and here she was being offered one last fling. One last chance at the physical closeness, the sweaty, groping, grappling, pounding slap slap slap of pure raw sex. Sex for the sake of it. Sex for fun.

Oh well. One more for the road.

She hiked the hem of the dress to her waist, dropped her panties to the floor and, grabbing a tube of lube and a couple of condoms from her purse, lay back on the bed with her legs apart and that shy, sweet, heartbreaking smile on her face.

'Well Raoul. You ready?'

Raoul was ready.

...........

Billie woke the hooker roughly. 'Come on! You paid for an hour and you've had ninety minutes already.' He didn't need the room, but Freddie would be coming on soon and he liked to get everything tidy when he handed over. Besides, if you gave the hookers an inch they'd take a mile. Let one of them sleep it off without paying and they'd all expect it. 'Now get your stuff together and get outta here!'

Raoul had wanted his money's worth so he'd taken her nice and slow and Kandy, with her aches and pains, had let him. Besides, she was enjoying it. When he'd finally finished, paid her, and cleaned up she had thanked him and lain back on the bed to savour the feeling. And fallen asleep.

When Billie woke her she pulled on her knickers, grabbed her stuff, and found herself once again out on the street with only one place to go. She picked up her luggage and - as fast as she could with her tight skirt, high heels and aching feet - set off for Desi's place. As she turned the corner on to Desi's street she saw, coming from Desi's apartment block, a slight, blonde haired figure in leather jacket and jeans turning to walk in the direction away from her.

'Annie! Annieee! Please!'

..........

The two friends had hugged and Annie had helped a sobbing Kandy back to the apartment. As Kandy sat on the bed tearfully explaining her problems, Annie - sensing that it was needed - had fixed her up with a stiff drink and a cigarette.

When everything was explained and the problem was defined Annie looked at the clock. They had twenty minutes to get Kandy changed and out to the airport. Not enough time.

Six twenty-five was the last check in time for the flight. There was maybe another thirty minutes before the doors closed. If they phoned the airport and explained that she, he, was on his way there was still a chance they could make it.

'What's your flight number, honey?'

'My flight number?'

'Yeah. It's on your ticket.'

'My ticket?'

The tickets, along with Kenny's passport, were in a safe deposit box back at the hotel.

'Oh Annie!' she wailed, 'Oh Annie. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

'There, there honey. There, there. Annie will sort it out. You get cleaned up and changed and I'll get everything fixed. I promise.'

It took Annie twenty minutes on the phone to sort something out but finally she had a workable plan. There was a direct flight from San Francisco to New York that would get Kandy there in time to pick up her transatlantic flight to London. Kandy would have to buy a new ticket but she was sure the girl had enough money in her purse. The timing would be tight and the trip from La Guardia to Idlewild, where Kenny would be on his own, was the most worrying part of the journey. Still, Annie was sure everything would work out. She called a cab to take them to Kenny's hotel to pick up his passport and tickets and went into the bedroom to give Kandy the good news.

Kandy, fresh faced and naked, was flat out on the bed sleeping the sleep of the just.

Kandy had stripped quickly and rushed to the bathroom to clean off her make-up. By the time she returned to the bedroom she was beginning to relax. Annie had promised to sort it out and Kandy, and even the voice of Kenny, firmly believed that she would. She flopped on the bed and under the influence of Annie's low voice from the other room, and the stiff drink she had just gulped back, the stresses and strains of the last few hours drifted away and Kandy thanked her lucky stars that she had found such a wonderful friend. Kandy's mind and body had been through so much in the last day that she desperately needed rest. The nap at the motel had done more harm than good, but now that the adrenaline was draining from her system, now that the immediate threat was gone and now that all the problems had been sorted, there was no need to deny her mind and body it's much needed relief. So nature took its course.

When Annie saw the sleeping Kandy she gently, then not so gently, tugged the covers over her and tucked her in to bed. She knew that it would be difficult to wake Kandy and, even if that were possible, the exhausted girl would not be in fit shape to make the gruelling journey. She went to the phone and cancelled the cab, then wrote a note that she left prominently placed on the dresser. She bent over Kandy and kissed her gently on the forehead, and then again on the lips, then she whispered in the sleeping girl's ear. 'Goodnight Kandy. You have a good rest. I'll be by in the morning and we'll sort everything out then. Goodnight honey. I love you Kandy.'

Then she left to go back to her own apartment to get ready for that night's dates.

............

Kandy woke up the next day feeling refreshed, relaxed, and loved. She did not consciously remember Annie's parting words but they had bypassed her mind and slipped into her soul where they became part of the bedrock of Kandy's emerging being.

Kandy knew that she needed the help of her friend and she knew that she could count on that help whatever the circumstances. Kandy also knew that she must begin helping herself. She phoned the airport and found out the price of a ticket to London, and then she counted her money and worked out how much she was short. She knew how she would have to earn the difference and she also knew that she could do it. With Annie's help it would be a breeze. She phoned the hotel and arranged to pick up her passport and papers then settled to tidying the apartment. She found writing paper and envelopes in a drawer and wrote a short note to her mother explaining that she had met a girl and would be staying for a while. Although she had never written the name Kandy anywhere it still seemed odd to her to sign herself Kenny and she had to read and re-read the note to make sure she had not let anything Kandyish slip in. She spent an hour trying on clothes and refining her proposal to Annie. She was sure Annie would agree to the plan but she was eager to get everything settled.

When Annie arrived, just after two, she found Kandy in the kitchen cleaning up after a light lunch. They hugged and kissed and complimented each other.

'You're looking good honey.' Kandy was wearing one of Desi's diaphanous robes and just the barest minimum of make-up. She hadn't been able to face the mirror without a bit of lipstick, eyeliner and mascara.

'Not as good as you Annie.' Annie was in her jacket and jeans, devoid of make- up, but to Kandy - and to anyone else for that matter - she looked fabulous.

They settled down to coffee, cigarettes and small talk then Kandy bit the bullet and began to explain her plan. It was, as Kandy knew it would be, easy.

Annie immediately agreed on what Kandy had to do to get the money she needed. The only alternatives for a girl without a green card would not even pay enough to live on, let alone to save enough money for a ticket home. Annie had seen Kandy at work and knew she was good enough, and tough enough, to make it.

The apartment was Annie's, sub-let to Desi. Of course she could use it, for as long as she needed it. Kandy immediately insisted on paying a month's rent in advance. It was quite a bit more than she had budgeted in her plan but even so she figured a month would be enough.

The clothes, too, were not a problem. Annie had spoken to Desi the other day and had been assured that Desi was not coming back and no longer needed the stuff. 'As long as you take good care of them feel free to wear what you want. At least until you get your own.'

Almost there. Almost there.

'What are these, Annie?'

Kandy had found some bottles of pills and was worried about drugs in the apartment.

Annie looked at the bottles.

'Hey. They're Desi's Mexican hormones. She doesn't need them now she's got a regular supply. You can take them if you like. You'll soon have tits and ass like the rest of us girls.'

She explained why Desiree had got her hormones from Mexico, and how Denise - as she was now known - had proper prescription ones. She showed Kandy the address on the bottle in case she wanted to get her own supply.

'But don't take these ones,' she rattled a particular bottle, 'Not unless you want to lose the use of your dick real quick.'

Kandy had no intention of taking the hormones but listened intently anyway. Anything Annie said was worth listening to.

One more hurdle. Just one more thing she needed to set her up in her new life.

Kandy went to Annie and hugged her tight.

'Annie. You've been so wonderful, so kind, so helpful. I love you Annie. Annie, would you please do one thing more for me. Please.'

She moved back a little and looked her friend in the eye.

'Annie, would you please take me shopping? I have to get something normal to wear!'

Annie laughed, and a relieved Kandy joined her.

'Of course I will Honey. I'd love to. Just as soon as I do something with your hair!'

So Annie led Kandy to the bathroom and washed and dyed and cut and dried and styled and trimmed Kandy's hair, and Annie, being Annie, did a pretty good job of it and, of course, threw in a compliment or two and explained every step so that Kandy could do it herself.

It was as she used a brush to tweak and tease Kandy's short, but feminine, blonde bob that Annie imparted her exciting news.

'I'm really glad things have worked out the way they have, Kandy. It's probably saved my life. You see Uncle George called this morning. He's having a party tomorrow night and he wants you to be there. 'No excuses Angelica. You bring Kandy or else!' So? Is it a date?'

Kandy laughed delightedly, then threw back her head and said:

'Whoooooweeeeeee! I am in lurve!'

So Kandy put on clean underwear and her waist cincher and, at Annie's suggestion, one of Kenny's loose T-shirts and his new jeans - with the belt done up as tight as it would go - and a pair of knee-highs that Annie pulled from her bag, because they would be trying on shoes, and a pair of Kenny's sneakers and her make-up would do if she freshened up her lipstick and she only needed a couple of rings and they would get her ears pierced that afternoon and all the time Kandy burbled about her plans.

It would probably only take her a month or so to build up enough cash for a ticket home, but she would retrieve her passport tomorrow and see how long her tourist visa lasted because she would probably lose her job in England so it might be better to build up a nest egg while she had the chance.

And Annie smiled and said 'Sure. Why not honey.' But she had seen the look in Kandy's eyes when she'd mentioned Uncle George's party and she'd heard Kandy's first question after the two of them had recovered from the fit of laughter Kandy's mimicry had provoked. 'How much do I get?'

Annie was a great believer in the old saying, 'It takes one to know one.' Annie was very good at her job, her profession, and although Kandy was raw and a little rough around the edges, Annie could see that she had real talent. But not only that. Much more important than that, Kandy loved the job. She was a natural.

............. .............

So the story of Kandy's day comes to an end, as all stories do, but aren't you a little bit curious about what happened to Kandy and the people whose lives crossed hers on that fateful day? I know I am.

So here are some brief paragraphs to tidy up a few loose ends.

.........

The cast in order of appearance: --------------------------------

April was pissed as she sat in the cab on her way home from her abortive dinner with Kandy. She kept trying to concentrate on the task before her - ridding the office network of a stupid virus - but her thoughts kept returning to the strange English kid she had left in the restaurant to fend for herself. And she felt bad.

When she had paid off the cab and entered her home, she slipped off her heels and put on her comfortable shoes. Then, as she went to her bedroom, she remembered how she'd misled the kid into thinking she was fully out at work and, in a calculated act of defiance, she reversed her steps, picked up Andy's keys and pass, left the house, got into her car, and drove to work.

The office was empty when she arrived so she flashed her pass at the server room sensor and when it flashed green, she opened the door. Her three colleagues were bent over keyboards but all looked up at the sound of the door closing. She will always remember the classic double take that followed. The three stared at her for a long moment and April met their gaze unflinchingly, then in her sexiest April voice she said: 'What have you fuck-ups been doing.'

The first five minutes were awkward, and there were awkward moments throughout the night. She'd told them her name, but brushed off their questions. 'I told you. I have a life. Now let's get on and do the job.'

Andy was good at his job though not particularly patient, but although she answered to either April or Andy that night, her voice, and her persona, never wavered from April's. When they had finally cleared the problem and the team were ready to leave, Sally came up to April and gave her a hug.

'You look great April, that blue really suits you. Will we see you again?'

Rajiit too approached April and shook her hand. 'It's been a pleasure working with you April. Thank you.'

Only Michael was awkward, and April knew why. Having the hots for your boss is difficult at the best of times, but when she's a man!'

Andy arrived late the next morning. After his long night, that was to be expected. When he fired up his e-mail and saw the note from his boss requesting his presence as soon as it was convenient, that, too, was expected. On the way to work, Andy had gone through his excuses. A fancy dress party? His girlfriend was kinky? He'd been kidnapped by aliens?

'I hear you did a great job last night Andy. I really want to thank you. You saved the company a lot of money in downtime.'

'No problem Ron. It's my job.'

'I hear we disturbed you from something special last night. I'm truly sorry about that, and really grateful.'

'Like I said Ron, no problem.'

'Uh I hear you were wearing, uh, women's clothes when you came in last night.'

'Yes Ron.'

'Why was that, Andy?'

'Changing would have taken an hour. I figured I'd just get here and get started. You know, save time.'

'Very commendable. Do you often wear, uh, women's clothes Andy.'

'Every minute I'm not here Ron.'

'Why do you wear, uh, women's clothes Andy?'

'I'm a transsexual Ron.'

'That means you want to be a women, right?'

'No Ron. That means I am a women. Everywhere it counts, except on the outside, I am a woman.'

'Are you seeing anyone about this? A professional?'

'Yes Ron, I'm seeing someone.'

'Will you want to dress as a woman at work?'

'Eventually.'

'How soon.'

'How about tomorrow?'

'I'll need to talk to HR about this. There may be one or two problems. Restrooms and such.'

Ron talked to Human Resources and the problems with 'restrooms and such' were overcome and the following Monday April came to work. She would always remember that night and though, in her memory, her own part increased and the strange English kid's part decreased, she will never forget Kandy for the rest of her life.

So April's story has a happy ending? Let us hope so, for in a few months time she has an appointment with a surgeon to take her next, irrevocable, step towards her dream, her reality. Let's all take a moment to wish her luck, and while we're here, let's all send our best to every girl who's been through, or going through, or contemplating going through, that tough, dangerous, beautiful journey.

...............

Slobba, too, will remember Kandy for the rest of his life. He waited in the alley night after night for his dream girl to appear. When he could, he began to cruise the likely spots looking for Kandy, but he never found her. So he would find a likely looking girl and pay for a blowjob. Unfortunately, not all girls could handle Slobba's thrusting technique and he often ended up with some nasty bite marks and aching balls after his trysts.

As his command of the language grew, he would stop likely passers by and describe the beautiful shapely blonde girl he desired. (By this time Kandy's image in his memory had stepped straight out of Babewatch.) Eventually, his past caught up with him and he moved further and further south, ending his days with a bullet through his head in a ditch in a little town outside Buenos Aries.

............

Hancock continued his bisexual cruise through life, never committing to one way or the other, never committing to one person or another. In the early days he would often pick up Kandy and avail himself of one of her special blowjobs, or take her to a motel for a fuck. His word of mouth helped get Kandy's career of the ground. Then suddenly, completely out of the blue, Hancock fell in love. With an older man. His father.

It's not quite true to say that the love was sudden. The seed had been there for a long, long time, but when his father had a stroke and Hancock moved back to Seattle to look after him, the love between the two men blossomed. There was never anything sexual in their love of course and, when he had the time, Hancock would cruise the bars and streets looking for relief. It was at these times that he would remember Kandy. But he would always return home to empty the bedpan and gently bathe his father, and cook for and clean for the only man, the only human being apart from himself, that he had ever really loved.

..........

Big John was Big John. Nobody knows where he comes from. Nobody knows where he goes. He will cruise up, pick a girl, take her to the motel and fuck her in his own special way. Always gentle, always kind, always Big John. Usually he would pick Cheryl but occasionally he would pick another girl and sometimes that girl would be Kandy. As Cheryl's dick decreased in size and Kandy's figure developed, (of course she took the Mexican hormones. Did you really think she wouldn't?) then if Kandy was on the street and Big John was on the cruise, he would take her back to the motel and fuck her rigid.

The only other thing I know about Big John is the rumour on the street that he repeatedly turns down big money offers to appear in porn movies. With his big dick and small size he'd look great.

...........

Annie? Oh Annie.

Annie loves Kandy and Kandy loves Annie.

Annie 4 Kandy and Kandy 4 Annie.

If only life were that simple.

They were lovers of course, sometimes professionally and sometimes personally. They are also friends. Lovers come and lovers go but friends go on forever. They are also professionals. Lovers have tiffs and friends have spats but professionals can get over those little things and work together regardless. The two girls have a mutual respect that goes deeper than friendship or love. One professional to another.

Bull shit.

Their mutual respect goes deep, their friendship goes deeper, but their love touches the very core of their being. Kandy's very existence is based on Annie's love for her and her love for Annie, but how does Annie feel?

Annie loves Kandy.

From the moment she saw Kandy waiting for the phone she felt that someone special had entered her life. To a prostitute, particularly a girl like Annie or Kandy, the physical act of love is not important. That is to say they both love sex in all it's many forms, but between themselves sex takes second place to a hug, a gossip, a shopping trip or a mutual grooming session. Not second place. Tenth or twentieth place. They love each other. Rest assured on that.

Nevertheless, when Annie was offered big money for a three-month cruise in the Caribbean, their mutual professional respect decreed that they both agree she should take it. Their tearful goodbye at the airport probably passed unnoticed amidst all the other tearful goodbyes. Their avowals of love were probably echoed a hundred times over in that airport that night. So was their promise to see each other soon.

They haven't seen each other since, but they will. Please God they will.

............

Whenever Uncle George had a party where professional entertainment was required, Kandy would be there. It was through these parties that Kandy made the contacts that would help her move from street-whore to call girl. But that was not the reason - well not the primary reason - that Kandy had a special place for him in her heart. It became a point of honour between the two of them that whenever they met Kandy would say 'Pleased to meet you Uncle George.' And George would say 'Wooooeee! I am in lurve!' The only drawback is - he does love Kandy.

At parties he would watch indulgently as Kandy performed, but in his heart a seed was taking root. A seed of jealousy. He began to suggest, then request, then almost demand, that Kandy leave the life. He wanted to take her away from all this. He promised to dress her in the finest clothes, take her to the finest restaurants, escort her to parties - not those kinds of parties - he wanted her to be his wife. Well as close to that as Kandy's particular circumstances would allow.

Kandy loved George, in her own way, but she was not yet ready to give up what she had so recently found. Freedom. Kandy revelled in her ability to attract men, and sometimes women, with her talents. She loved the excitement, the power, the exhilaration - and sometimes the danger and fear - that her profession gave her.

So Kandy would embrace him and kiss him and caress his bulge and say; 'You know I love you Uncle George, but I'm just not ready for that.'

George is a gentle man, despite having once made his living pounding opposing players into the dirt, so when he realised that he could not have Kandy for himself, and that he could not bear to see Kandy with others, he moved south, first to Los Angeles and then to San Diego. If you're ever in San Diego, and you're that way inclined, if you get an invitation to one of George's parties, go. You'll enjoy yourself. But don't mention Kandy.

.............

Are you interested in the bit part players in Kandy's story?

The maitre'd was caught with his hand in the till and is now a waiter in a smoky leather bar. The pay's poor but he does well on the tips.

The Hotel manager's mild cocaine habit was, one night at a party, turned in to a full-blown crack addiction.

Freddie has more piercings.

Raoul still hangs out with Billie who has just about recovered from the tongue- lashing he received from Kandy when she next met him.

............

Kandy?

Kandy wrote to her mother every month and gradually forgot to be Kenny in her letters. She would mention a new dress, or her new hairstyle or a nice pair of shoes or George's latest outrageous proposal. She always mentioned Annie though, at great length. Her mother was not totally surprised. She had known about Kenny's stash for a long time. Mothers usually do.

When Kandy included a return address in her letters her mother began to write back. There was much she could say, much she wanted to say, but she confined herself to a little gentle gossip. 'Old Mrs so-and-so across the road passed on.' 'Your friend what's-his-name married that girl thingy-me-bob.' 'Your Father planted some new roses the other day.'

But always, somewhere in the letter, she would include her particular words. She hoped they would express her true feelings for her son, her daughter. When Kandy phoned at Christmas or on her mother's birthday the magic words would always crop up.

'As long as you're happy, dear. That's all that counts.'

Kandy took the Mexican hormones and then, through a guy she met at one of George's parties, procured her own local supply. She never took the Spironolactone though. Her dick was too important to her career. Even so, it began to slip away but what the hell, she got herself a boob job to compensate. They were bigger than she wanted, but a client had done them for nothing so he called the shots.

Although she had moved from the street to the bedroom there were times when she would become bored, so at times like these she would return to her roots. She would slap on the make-up, tease out her hair, dig out a short, low-cut, sexy, number, slip her feet into a pair of fuck-me pumps and join the girls on the street to strut her stuff. She still got a buzz of anticipation when a car was cruising up and down and she could feel the driver's eyes on her.

It was on a night like this that Kandy's luck ran out. George had left, Annie was in the Caribbean and Kandy wanted some fun. Maybe she'd run into Big John or one of her other regulars from her days on the street, or maybe she'd just hang out with the girls. Whatever.

A few days earlier a new girl who needed to feed her habit had freaked out when her first John got a little rough. Her boyfriend, and would be pimp, hit the guy and together they rolled him. The guy wasn't badly hurt and didn't lose much, but he knew people who knew people and questions were asked, crackdowns were promised and the vice squad were out on the trawl. Kandy was caught in the net.

This sort of thing is an occupational hazard, but one that Kandy had so far avoided. It wasn't really that big a deal apart from the fact that Kandy's only ID was a British passport with a long out of date tourist visa.

After a, mercifully short, spell in the slammer Kandy was deported and finds herself in a window seat of a 747 in mid-atlantic. All in all, she is thinking, it's probably not such a bad thing. It's time to move on, time to grow. Her chief regret is the fact that going back to America will be difficult, if not impossible, but she is already dreaming up ways to persuade Annie to join her on vacation. The Bahamas are nice.

Across the aisle, Max is keeping an eye on Kandy. She is not beautiful, not even pretty, but there is something attractive about her. She is poised and elegant, but beneath the veneer there is an openness about her, a sense of vulnerability. It is an appealing combination and Max mentally rubs his hands together. He has plans for this one, and if everything works out he will make a lot of money.

When the woman next to Kandy goes forward to the restroom, Max quickly moves in to the vacant seat.

'Hello Kandy. I'm Max.'

'Hi Max. What can I do for you.'

The coquettish tone in her voice almost puts Max of his stride, but he quickly recovers.

'It's more a question of what I can do for you.'

'Really? And what might that be Max? Something nice I hope.'

Again, her tone threatens to derail him but he ploughs straight on.

'You see Kandy, it's been a quiet week, news wise, and your little story has generated quite a bit of interest. When we get to London there will be lots of reporters and cameramen all out to get a piece of you.'

'And how can you help me, Max?'

'Well, I'm an agent. A press agent, a publicity agent. Dealing with these people is my business. And I'm very good at my job. The best, even though I say it myself.'

'Do go on.'

'We need to get across your story. They'll put words in your mouth, twist things round, make you out to be something you're not. But with a properly arranged deal with one of the better papers, a few appearances on the classier chat shows, we can show people the true, heart-rending, emotional story behind the garish headlines.'

'What's in it for us, Max?' Kandy has noticed the 'we'.

Figures are mentioned, percentages discussed, tentative deals are done. Kandy has received plenty of sound advice from friends and has money and negotiables in various places that she can readily gain access to. But she has learned that with money, unlike make-up, more often is better.

The woman returns from the restrooms and, as Max vacates the seat, the two new partners shake hands. As he leaves Kandy calls after him in a voice loud enough to be heard in several of the adjacent rows:

'You know Max, I've been on the game for a long time now, but this is the first time I've ever had a pimp.'

The end.

............

Authors Note. -------------

This is not the first TG tale I have told myself, but it is the first I have written down and sent out into the world. Editing and revising are difficult tasks. As you go through the tale, tweaking here, rewriting there, the story can become stale and you can begin to lose faith. I know there are still clunky bits in there but the time has come for this little bird to fly the nest. If any of you out there feel like sending - gentle - advice on how I might improve my style I'd be grateful. If anyone has a sure fire cure for apostrophe dee syndrome I'd be eternally grateful. Sorry. I'll be eternally grateful. The time I've spent tidying up he'd, she'd and they'd could have been much better spent and I still haven't got them all.

This started out to be a short, amusing, erotic take on the standard forced fem tale. You know, occasional cross dresser caught with consequences and before he knows what's hit him she's on her knees sucking cock. Eyebrows are tweezed, hair is dyed and styled, hormones are administered, tits are implanted and there's no way back. My variation is that it isn't really forced. Just a series of accidents, coincidences and mis-understandings. There's no master plan, no one bears Kandy any ill will, it just happens.

The problem is I fell for my characters and I ended up writing a romance. If anyone out there has a cure for that I will be eternally grateful. The whole section between the girls going shopping and Kandy getting busted should be consigned to the bin, but I can't bring myself to do it.

I fell in love with April and I fell in love with Annie, and of course I fell in love with Kandy. So much so that I decided to spare her the final indignities I had planned for her. But then I thought, 'I'm the author. I can do what I like.' So I did set the tabloid press on her and fix her up with an agent.

Copyright (c) Karen Beckett December 1999 .............

Acknowledgements ----------------

The verse from 'Walk on the Wild Side' is reproduced without permission. I don't know how to go about that sort of thing and for a tale like this it doesn't seem worth the hassle. Who knows? A few people may go out and buy a CD of Lou Reed's Greatest Hits and generate some money for the copyright holder. If the owner wants me to remove it I will, but I think it sort of fits where it is.

Although this is my first attempt at writing a TG story, I have read many. Thank you to all the authors who have helped me wile away my time and who have influenced my own fantasies, including this one.

Disclaimer ----------

I do not condone or recommend any of the sexual acts described in this story, particularly a head on dive on to a weapon as large as Big John's.

Don't Try This At Home.

I particularly don't recommend any of the acts of gratuitous smoking described herein. My own fate was sealed when Daddy said, 'Only whores smoke,' and Mummy, who smoked, said 'Only whores smoke in the street.'