Chapter 4: Onwards...

Thursday dawned bright and cheerful. The bruising on my face was starting to get to its yellow phase and that was a sure-fire way to tell that it was running its course and on the way out.

I woke up in a really good mood and although I can't remember the details of the dream, I would like to think that Verity was a part of it. I can't stop thinking about her, but I'm no fool and infatuation could be the key here. I reckon that if I haven't got to go out with her soon, but I still feel this way, then I might have to put love into the sentence.

I thought I'd start with a shower and hair removal treatment, moisturiser then downstairs for breakfast and makeup lesson number one. It was nice at last to have some positive direction in my life.

I kept the hair removal stuff away from the tender bits and had actually fully intended to give myself something of a bikini line, but after messing about trying to get it all even, I gave up and just smeared the stuff all over, under the arms and from crotch downwards.

It used up most of the bottle, but after the prescribed time I scraped it off and was over the moon at the results. After a nice rejuvenating shower and hair wash,. I felt smooth and very feminine. It was a whole new experience and if the after effects were anything to go by, one I would be looking forward to on a regular basis.

I dried off and looked at myself in the mirror. I found it fascinating to see myself with no protruding genitals and the skin around where they would have been so soft and smooth. I lifted one arm and then the other and saw my pits with the same effect and I must say I was well turned on.

I started to apply the moisturiser and decided on a top down approach. I smoothed a small amount under each arm and brushed my breasts when smoothing it out. The feeling was electric. I took a little more or the lotion and smoothed that out over both breasts. By the time I had finished which was only seconds later, my nipples were as hard as rock and if you could hear nipples, I'm sure they were singing. I know I was!

This got me curious and since I had got a distinctly erotic sensation from my panty-region yesterday, I wondered what stage it had got to.

I reached down and slid my middle finger between my lips and across the top of my clitoris. It definitely worked. I moved down towards my bum and could feel the slippery wetness of my hole. I shuddered and didn't stop there. Before I knew where I was, I had two fingers of one hand pounding away in and out of my pussy, while I massaged my clit with the other and within a very few minutes, I was having to sit on the side of the bath as my legs wouldn't hold me up at this point.

After the room stopped spinning, my legs stopped being jelly, I stopped shaking and the temperature returned to normal, I concluded that there was nothing wrong with the hardware that was for sure.

I think I must have spent the rest of the morning walking around the house with a silly grin on my face.

By the time Trisha came back round, I had managed to get myself back under control (though not before testing the goods once or twice — okay three times more and also had a second shower [I needed a cold one at that!] just to polish off). I had put on a dressing gown and applied makeup. Whilst it wasn't as good as the job Verity had done, it was much better than Trisha's effort (bless).

She seemed quite put out that I had taken the initiative to get this problem sorted for myself and as always seemed to happen when she's around, I felt really bad for having upset her. It seems stupid, since she seemed to think it perfectly alright to leave me with no way of getting off what she put on. That was the effect she was having on me.

Another thing I noticed really quickly, was that the image I was calling into my mind fairly regularly of Verity (four times this morning in the bathroom alone), seemed to be so hard to grasp when Trisha was around and although I didn't fancy her anymore or find her in the least bit sexually attractive, I did find it very difficult not to want to please her, to do the very best I could for her.

"You're looking very feminine today, Danielle." she observed.

"Yes. I guess it's just acceptance of being the way I am now."

"Do you like being a girl?"

"I haven't really had time to think about it. I suppose, but then, I never really thought much about being a bloke before either."

"Didn't you?"

"Well, no. You don't think about being what you are, you just are. Just like I don't suppose you think about being a girl, it's just the way you are."

"I'm surprised. You've taken to it really quickly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. You just seemed to have accepted it so readily."

"What choice have I had? I have changed rather drastically after all. It's been a case of either survive or don't. What actually happened to me is by-the-by. I have been dealt a new hand and have had to learn to play accordingly." I said hotly. "I have to say though, you've been a real help." She smiled and reached out and put her hand on my knee.

"You've turned out to be a very pretty girl though." she said.

"Thank you." I replied, noticing that the hand hadn't left my knee and now was stroking it gently.

I didn't know what to do about that. I had that sense of déjà vu and a sense of helplessness as well. I really didn't have much 'self' about me when she was around and in my head, part of me was yelling at the top of its lungs for it to stop. It was kind of foggy though and whilst I could hear it, I was powerless to act upon it. I tried to picture Verity and just like before, the image kept slipping away.

Trisha knelt before me and placed her other hand on my other knee. I was trembling, because somewhere just below the surface, I didn't want this to happen, but unlike what happened with Mike (the bastard), I had no self control.

"Mmmmm, you smell nice." she said and fear or something like fear, was now screaming in that foggy part of my head. It was so strange, surreal. The trembling was giving way to something close to shaking and I sat, watching Trisha gently push my knees aside.

My dressing gown fell open and I could feel that I was exposed and unable to move my hands to draw it together again. She looked me up and down from my breasts to my crotch.

"Oh very nice." she said in a very seductive tone as she saw my smooth sex for the first time, licking her lips in appreciation and I assumed, anticipation.

"Don't you move." she said and giggling added, "I have to visit the little girl's room."

I couldn't move. It was like her request was an order, an order I could do nothing other than follow. She came back downstairs and plopped in between my legs. She ran her hands up from my stomach over each of my breasts, coaxing my nipples to hardness and I shivered. It did feel good, but at the same time, it wasn't her I wanted to be doing it. I was finding it hard to concentrate. The sexual buzz that was beginning to build was starting to make everything much more difficult to stop.

Her hands were replaced by her mouth and tongue, licking, nibbling and swirling around my nipple, sending me into a state of utter confusion. It felt sooo good and when her hand slipped down to my pussy, her fingers sliding down to the warm wetness within, I was nearly lost.

Her head moved up from my breasts and she began kissing my neck. Her fingers were still sliding in and out, around my pussy and clit, sending wave upon wave of electric sizzles through my body that radiated out from my nether regions.

I caught a faint smell. A beautiful fragrance that suddenly released that inner voice and took away all the fogginess that had held me entranced during Trisha's ministrations.

It was Diorella.

"NO!" I shouted and stood up, knocking Trisha onto her back in the middle of the floor. I pulled my dressing gown closed about me and looked down at the startled woman lying at my feet.

"What the... ?" she cried.

"I can't do this Trisha." I stated firmly. "More than that, I don't want to and won't."

"What do you mean? You can't do this." I could see the anger in her eyes and I also felt that strange pull that seemed ever present when in her company.

"What's the perfume you're wearing?" I asked and almost giggled at the confusion that showed in Trisha's face.

"I'm not." she said scrambling to her feet.

"I can smell it." I assured her.

"I opened a bottle in the bathroom to see what it smelt like, but I didn't put any on, if that's what you mean."

Perhaps that was it. Perhaps it was the smell of the perfume that reminded me so much of Verity that brought me out of the fog.

"So what did you think you were doing?"

"You just looked like you needed someone."

"What like Mike (the bastard), someone to take advantage?"

"I just wanted to be there for you."

"It felt more like I was there for you." I said sarcastically.

Needless to say, Trisha's enthusiasm died right about then. She grabbed her stuff and stomped off out the door, muttering something about "seeing about this" and "getting a refund". I didn't know what she was getting at and frankly I didn't care. I felt that Verity had in her way, freed me from something that without her help, I would have been screaming inside about for a very long time to come.

It felt good and as a safety measure, I went and dabbed a little of the fragrance from the stopper, behind each ear and as I had seen my mum do once or twice, a little in the cleavage for good measure. I went upstairs to the spare room, which still looked like a blast zone and the fallout was half a wardrobe's worth of Trisha's old clothes, fanning out from the place where once two neat piles had sat. What was I going to do with it all?

I thought about it for about a millisecond and decided that well, if she didn't want it and wasn't going to let me throw it away, I would make use of it. Replacing a wardrobe is an expensive job and I really needed to have something a least to be going on with.

I went round the room carefully picking up each individual item and deciding whether it was going to be worn again or whether it was destined for the Oxfam shop. They could join my old clothes, I thought. I didn't think I would need them again and if I was going to change back (and I had no idea whether that was feasible, never mind likely), I could get myself some more up-to-date stuff then.

By the end of the exercise, I had a pile of items that were 'definite', a pile that were 'possible' and the rest was dumped in a heap on the floor.

One such item of keeps was one of several dresses. I had never worn a dress, but until yesterday, I hadn't worn a skirt either. The fact I was now a fully fledged if not virgin female (though very nearly not, thanks to a certain person not twenty minutes ago), I had carte blanche as to what I wore — unlike when I was a bloke. I trembled as I touched it and couldn't wait to put it on, but one thing at a time.

It had often struck me as strange that Trisha should leave so much behind, but as I went through the clothes, I could see that a lot was fairly dated and the rest, if not well worn, was more the sort of clothes that I had been attracted to her in. Most of the original clothing had long since bit the dust, but when I first met her, I saw a biker chick, a rocker. Now she was, well, a corporate suit.