TG: Jack and Jill Ch 7 by Vickie Tern, femdom, wife, M/F, M/M Vickie Tern's stories are archived at http://library.gaycafe.com/nifty/transgender/ by_authors/Vickie_Tern She appreciates any kinds of comment on any of them, and usually replies in kind. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't! Jack and Jill by Vickie Tern 7. Chapter I sat up in bed for a moment, musing, looking at the door where Carl had just disappeared, and realized I was still smiling in almost feline contentment. The night just past, my sense of entrapment, my acceptance of the inevitable, my conversion to desire for a man, my deep satisfaction at being reamed, and my joy while giving my lover passionate head, all this had gone further than I had ever dreamed possible. I felt...well...lovely! I pushed myself up from the bed and stood up, my weight on one leg for a moment, twisting my hips as I rose, all in a single, gracefully sinuous movement I recognized as intimately feminine. That was how I felt! My smile broadened. This went far deeper than the pleasure I usually felt wearing women's clothing. I glimpsed myself in the mirror, my hair still set in Marianne's mop of curls. How could I have ever wanted to comb them out to look like a man? Despite the night's ravages it looked darling. I looked well-fucked. I felt it, too. Time for a shower and change. I took out Carl's butt-plug, thinking I'd keep it as a souvenir. But now I was leaking! Carl's precious cum was escaping! I had to stop it and absorb it all was my immediate impulse, and I grinned even more broadly when I realized that was the silly instinctual sentiment of a smitten schoolgirl. Still, I wanted to absorb it all. I hopped over to my purse, got one of the tampons Jill had put there, and quickly inserted it -- I thanked my stars there were no cardboard or plastic plungers to learn to insert, just a pure tampon ready to expand inside me. Again a full feeling, but satisfying, and I felt proud to think of the string now hanging out of my butt as a symbol of my new womanhood. I had earned it, with all sorts of feelings of love and loss, and desire and regret In the bathroom I noticed a jar of Nair, and thought why not? Though I was still clean shaven I spread the pink stuff all over me, waited until the itching was intense, then showered it all off. Now I felt like a baby's behind, and I wanted to maintain the momentum, hellbent to become all woman! My new curls held up beautifully. I toweled them off and fingered them into shape, and touched them with air from the blow dryer. My makeup took longer, but I kept to Mari's daytime light tones and remembered her instructions, not much of anything much, but never ignore eyes and cheeks. A little more grey on my lids and I felt fit to look at the world. I saw in the mirror that the studs in my ears were neat, the holes healing. I had thought yesterday that they were a too hasty impulse I'd regret. Now I was quite pleased with them. I felt like a woman. I loved it! Back in the room I picked out a beige tailored suit that had been hanging in the closet this whole time, and found a purple silk blouse on the same hangar under the jacket. Jill had thought of everything. This was the coming home outfit she had planned for me, I was sure of it. I thought I had better call her. The phone rang twice, and Jill's voice answered with her polite but neutrally brisk inquiry, "Hello, yes ?" I realized that today was a working day, and that she was probably off to the office in a few minutes. "Hello," I said in a relaxed, friendly voice, sounding the way I felt, "This is your darling little cocksucker speaking. Just checking in to find out what you have planned for me for today." "How was last night?" she asked a little cautiously. "Did it go well?" "It went beautifully Jill. Really well. I loved it! Really!" She sounded relieved for some reason. "Darling, that's wonderful. I was hoping you'd say something like that. Carl called a few minutes ago and said you couldn't have been more loving. But you never know. You sound just fine. Please come home now, and tell me all about it. I want you to come home, Jack." "I'm Jane, Jill. I'm not sure where Jack is right now." "Oh darling," she practically exploded into the phone, "I did so want you to feel that way! Do come home as quickly as you can!" She paused, then said in an amused tone, "Jack can come with you if you like. It's his home too. He can live here with us. But we have so much we can talk about now, Jane! I'll be here. I'm much too excited to go to work today." She hung up. Well! She did have a plan the whole time, and I had changed right on schedule! Jack had left the house in sneaking shame, a cuckold abandoning his wife to a stranger, a wimp transvestite entrapped cocksucker, and now Jane returns a satisfied and un-self-conscious woman. There it was. Contempt for Jack the crossdresser, the fearful husband terrified to be found out. Admiration for Jane, a woman inside Jack at ease with her femininity and unashamed to be whoever she is. If Jack had not become Jane before Carl started in on him, then Jack would have been corn-holed and fucked and humiliated some more, like the previous night, and he would have deserved it. But instead he had become Jane, pleasured and loved and transported into the joys of loving, and as Carl had promised she had loved it, and would cherish the memories. Jill wanted to live with Jane. She was willing to let Jack hang around, but it was as if she was married to Jane! Could there be a little lesbian in her? Could that be why she never really warmed up to Jack? What am I saying? I'm still Jack too, but I'm not what he was, for sure! I felt confused and excited at the same time. What a woman! Devious isn't the half of it! I packed everything up in a valise I found in the corner of the closet, as I knew I would, and carried it out. On my way I saw that the front desk was manned by the same impassive clerk I had met when I first arrived. "Goodbye, dear," I said to him, my voice as musical as my mood, "It's been a lovely stay. I believe my bill's been settled." He looked up. "That's right Miss," he said. "Have a nice day." This time when I reached the car I sat down in my skirt, twisted into the driver's seat, and drove home with brisk efficiency. If a cop stopped me and saw Jack's licence, so what! None did. I parked the car in our driveway and sat there a moment, then opened the door. There was Jill standing on the steps waiting for me, smiling. I turned carefully, put both feet together on the driveway, and then stood up. My butt was indeed feeling sore! And my pussy felt full, but the full feeling was nice in a new way. I realized I sort of liked it. I felt fulfilled!. Or maybe what I liked was what it reminded me of. My night of love. I took my purse and started walking carefully toward the steps. "How are you, dear?" she asked, as I came toward her. "I see you've met Marianne. She gave you a wonderful hairdo. It suits you beautifully." "Thank you," I said. "I think so too. I'm very well, Jill." "Oh, and I see she's pierced your ears. Do you like them that way?" "Yes," I said, "I like them." I meant to sound evasive, to yield her nothing, but it came out sounding a little smug. She heard it, and smiled again. "Well, darling, welcome home. Why don't you go right upstairs and take a hot bath. You'll feel better. You'll find a fresh tampon on the upper shelf in the bathroom, if you need one. Or perhaps you'd prefer a pad?" "No," I said, "a tampon will be fine." She was visibly pleased by that answer. "That beige suit looks just darling on you, nicer than I'd thought it would be. But you'll want to change to something more comfortable now. I've lay out some clothes on our bed, and when you're ready to come down we'll have a long talk. Oh, we have so much to talk about!" I walked past her holding myself a little stiff, trying not to limp. I heard her. "Our" bed. Well! A hot bath sounded just right. I went upstairs to the bathroom, ran the tub, and added a touch of bath oil without thinking, amused to discover it when the fragrance reached my nose. Then I stripped down and got in. After a long soak I stood up again, feeling very much at ease, and got out. Did I still leak? Better be safe. I found the box of tampons, changed my soiled one for a fresh one, and went into "our" bedroom feeling .. well...pretty neat. Nice. Dainty. Together. I saw two outfits laid out on the bed, a man's blue polo shirt and slacks, jockey shorts, socks, and sneakers, and another stack of clothes a foot or so away, a white cotton blouse with plaid skirt, bra, panties, and flats. Well, well. One more test? Feeling just a touch defiant, I dressed in the blouse and skirt, touched up my lipstick, and went back down, still walking slowly. For some reason her face lit up when she saw what I was wearing. She was glad to see me. This was not the old Jill, not at all. But then I was not the old Jack. I was Jane. My own woman. And to my own astonishment, that's exactly who I was! I knew she'd take charge of the conversation by sheer habit if I didn't get there first, so I started speaking from the stairway as soon as I saw her. "Jill, I know what you were doing," I said. "It worked. I do appreciate it. But it worked better than you think. You wanted me to act like a man, to quit with the women's clothes. I couldn't. Then you wanted me to stop pretending I was a man, to acknowledge I was the woman I've been dressing up all these years. Now I've done it. Carl pushed me over. Before I was a man obsessed to look like a woman, but terrified to be discovered and disgraced. When you fixed me up with Tom, you didn't disgrace me, I did. I felt disgraced in my own eyes, because I was ashamed of who I was. But not now. Now I'm a woman and pleased to be a woman, in a man's body, but with the look of a woman, and I have access to my male identity when it suits me, so nothing's lost and nothing's at risk. But Jill, I feel like more of a woman than you were when you married me, because last night I wanted to do more than you have ever done or wanted to do to give pleasure to the man I loved, the man I loved last night, anyhow. You never felt that way about me." That was the zinger! But Jill never winced. She simply sat in our large easy chair and looked at me as if I were a birthday present she hadn't yet opened. I sat down on the couch, slipped off my flats, tucked my legs up alongside me, straightened my skirt over them, looked at her, and waited. She leaned forward and began an address to the jury. "Dear, from the moment I saw you walking toward me, so weary in your rear end but so comfortable and well-poised, wearing your new hairdo and new suit without any self-consciousness at all, your pierced ears telling me you're proud to look female and don't care who knows it, I knew my plan had worked. You're right. Before you weren't a man at all. You were unfaithful to your own manhood and to me, and you were sneaky and ashamed of the woman inside you. I wanted to punish you for all those betrayals, or else straighten you out, one or the other, once and for all. So I trapped you into a situation your manhood would find intolerable but your femininity would find intriguing, even delightful. You had to learn what every woman has to learn sooner or later, to submit to a man and her own desires without loss of self respect. You male ego thought getting fucked by Carl would be a catastrophe, and it would have been, to your male ego. So it went howling in terror from Carl's prick! But that allowed you to become what you are now! As I hoped, you committed to the woman in you, the woman you've always claimed was inside you, and you became that woman, someone able to enjoy a handsome stud like Carl. So you escaped from my trap, and now you're more of a whole person than you've been since I've known you. I think much happier too." Then she added, "Even though your tush probably feels a little used right now. But not ill-used I'll bet!" Her voice became more thoughtful, as if she were talking to someone like herself. "When we married we were both mistaken. You thought you wanted a wife, and I thought I wanted a husband. Well, maybe we did. Maybe in some ways we still do. I was so proper and innocent. But I'm not the same person I was. I've learned a lot about what I want. We can live together as husband and wife if you want, the two of us, if you really want to wear Jack's clothes and masquerade as Jack. But then we won't be husband and wife. I don't think either of us wants that, really, anyhow. You've always wanted to look like a woman and now you do, and you feel like one too, don't you love, and it isn't too bad, is it? Now you're a woman in your heart. I love what you are now. I think we can live together very happily as woman and wife. That's what I want." Now she began to sound a little uncertain, even vulnerable. It was very appealing. "I'm not sure what we'll be with each other. Maybe sisters. Maybe girlfriends. Lovers, I think. Or all of these. But we'll live together as women, in every respect, and then we can respect each other in everything. Are you willing to accept this?" I was overwhelmed. If she had waited a few days to ask me, when the passion I felt for Carl had faded, and undeniable physical thrill of getting reamed in the ass was finally understood as no more than that, and the novelty of feeling myself unashamed to be a woman had lost its novelty, I might have given her a more carefully considered answer. Maybe a different one. As it turned out, the man in me was still very much alive and well, though I didn't know it just then. I think she knew it, and wanted to move fast, with her lawyer's sense of timing. But I was so overwhelmed that she wanted me at all, especially wanted me to be that marvelous thing I was feeling myself to be, a woman newly liberated from feeling ashamed of it, that my eyes filled with tears. I nodded to her, unable to speak. "You're sure, dear? A woman? No backtracking? No second thoughts? You'll be a woman with me? You want to? Really?" "I do." It sounded a little like a wedding ceremony, but she seemed to want to hear the words. In a way it was a wedding ceremony. We were re-marrying each other. And once I said the words, there was no pulling back. Then suddenly a wicked impulse possessed me. "Wait a minute. If I move back here with you, do I get to keep my own bedroom?" She looked surprised. "O yes, dear. If you want. But I hope you won't want it." "Oh, no," I replied. "Not at all. This will be interesting." Now it was her turn to look at me with a wicked grin. "It'll be more than interesting, dear. It'll be fun! Something we haven't had much of lately. In fact, not much at all!" She stood and came over to me, and kneeled by the couch and hugged me, and then kissed me with more passion than I had ever seen in her. "We're going to have such a wonderful life together, sweetheart. Darling, now that I know who you are, and you know who you are, I want to make it all up to you. I love you." And to my amazement she lifted back my skirt, and pulled down my panties, and as my prick rose to meet her mouth she went down on me. She started to suck me with her lips shaped in a large sweet "O", devotedly kissing the head of my prick every time her lips touched it. "I see that Tom taught you a few things too, didn't he, dearest," I said. She nodded, I think, though it was hard to tell from the way her head was bobbing. So I showed her how to lick the underside from root to crown, and how to angle her head to take me deep into her throat. When I came, she swallowed almost all of it, and looked up at me in triumph. I bent over and kissed her, my cum still on her lips. "Happy Birthday to both of us, darling," I said. "Yes," she murmured, our open mouths pressed tightly against each other. Her tongue pushed some cum still in her mouth over into mine, and it seemed to me a sweet sharing of our new life together. And so it was. But now I know she was also getting on with the next phase of her plans for me, with as little delay as possible.. The next few weeks were the happiest I had ever had, worth all the humiliation and misery I had felt earlier. My wife loved me, openly and with joy, with none of the judgemental reserve, sometimes even the hint of scorn, I had sensed in her even before we were married. As she told me, she now knew what she wanted, and that was me. That is, she wanted the womanly me, me as a woman. I had no problem with that, because after all the suppression Jane had endured that was what I wanted too. We returned to many of our old ways, taking turns fixing dinner, sleeping snug together in our old bedroom, but with a playfulness that was missing earlier. Our first night after my return from the motel I took out my most delicately feminine nightgown, all embroidered pink satin delicately edged in black lace, and put it on, and touched perfume behind my ears and on the pulse points of my wrists, not sure how she'd react to such blatant self-presentation. Then while she readied herself in the bathroom I began moving my undies from my former bedroom back to our bedroom, reclaiming my old bureau drawers, determined she should see me standing full length in the finery I intended to wear to bed that night, previously absolutely forbidden. I wanted her to see my lingerie as also an inalienable part of me. She came in and looked at me, and the sweetest smile lit up her face, and she opened her arms wide. "Oh, dearest, you look just lovely. Are you wearing that beautiful gown for me? I love it! You look so darling! Come, give me a kiss!" So I came over to her, and she enfolded me, and I melted into her mouth, and her lips were as soft as Carl's had been. It was wonderful. I felt like her delicate, demure, cherished lover, as she swept me over to the bed while still kissing me, and lay me down gently, and settled herself on top of me with even greater gentleness, and tucked my risen penis into her crotch and snuggled down onto it, and leaned over so I could kiss and lick and suck on each of her breasts in turn, each a delight, each rapturous, while we moved against each other and I felt myself grow harder, sliding inside her with more and more firmness and lunging into her with greater determination, as she grew more frantic, and cried out "Oh!" "Oh!" and "Oh!" repeatedly, until we both peaked and orgasmed together. Then we lay there marvellously at our ease, smiling tenderly at each other. "Tell me, what did Carl do to you that made you most feel like a woman," Jill asked in a quiet voice, as if she didn't want either of us to wake up. "You know," I replied, not sure whether she did. "Yes I do," she said complacently. "And you are going to be my woman the same way, darling. But was there anything else? Did he find any little secret places to make you go all soft and feminine and loving and doting?" "Yes," I said. She waited, a half-smile on her face. Then very shyly I told her. "My breasts. He kissed my breasts, on the nipples. It was heavenly." "Oh?" she asked. "Like this?" And her head tucked under my neck and her tongue began to lick my nipples, one after another, and then she pursed her soft, billowy lips and began to nurse on them. My back arched up to sink my nipple into her mouth in ecstasy! "Oh God!!" I cried in joy. She took hold of my penis and squeezed and caressed it delicately, and even before I had gotten fully hard I came yet again. Then we fell asleep wrapped up in each other. In the morning the same thing again, this time with me sprawled on top between her legs, pumping sweetly into her and passionately kissing her neck while she squirmed in delight and caressed my chest until her fingers found my nipples, and she gently tweaked them, then sucked on them. I felt then that I would do anything for her, anything! "Oh, fuck me, fuck me," she said quietly as I humped her over and over and she pressed eagerly back onto me on each stroke, until we both came again. I was in heaven, and lay there floating as Jill got up. "I'll fix breakfast this time," she said as she slipped on a robe, kissed me, said "Don't forget your tampon," grinned sideways at me, and disappeared out the door. And of course I went out dressed whenever I needed to do so. Back to the motel so Marianne could touch me up. Shopping. With my hairdo and my ears pierced and casual clothing and feminine shoes and the movements Jill had taught me earlier, I looked like a woman at first glance, and no one I encountered bothered to look more closely. In a hardware store a young clerk explained solicitously to me how to tell a pipe wrench from an adjustable end-wrench, because of course no woman could know. Salegirls asked if I had seen the new silk camp shirts yet, just in, when I was browsing for a blouse. Other women smiled at me when they noticed I was glancing at their hair and clothing in passing, checking out how they did themselves up, and I smiled at them in turn. We belonged together. Much of the time I was unaware I was cross-dressed at all, and just went about my business and then came home. After a few weeks of this bliss, Jill came home late one night, having phoned earlier with apologies for the sudden emergency come up that needed tending. I waited up wearing a short waltz gown, demure and pretty, checking my makeup now and then. I wanted to be truly beautiful for her when she saw me. I suppose I was, because she came through the door, and set her briefcase down, and we swept into bed clasped together, barely pausing to strip Jill of her panty-hose. She dove for my breasts like a starved infant, first with her fingers and then with her mouth and tongue, and I was transported to paradise. I suckled her with a sweet tender feeling in my belly I'd never felt before, cradling her head lovingly. Then I entered her, and came almost at once. She hid any disappointment she felt at being denied her orgasm, but when I had softened but not yet slipped free from her she asked if I would mind kissing her down below, just once. She knew I had once wanted to, and she hadn't let me, but now she would love to know what it felt like. Another wish fulfilled! I kissed her by way of reply, then quickly reversed myself on her body, pressed my head between her legs and began to tongue and suck and mouth and lick her slit with an impassioned ardour I had never felt for any part of her before. Almost at once she clenched my head between her two powerful thighs until I could hardly breath, and wrapped her arms around my own thighs with her head buried deep in my damp crotch, and rolled us over, so my face was beneath her. Then she began grinding her cunt into my mouth, and as I licked she began pulsing in orgasm. Immediately my mouth filled and my nose and face and chin were coated with a sticky substance. I realized it was partly her juices, but mostly my own fresh cum draining out of her. Again it tasted sweetly salty, as with Carl, and as with Tom, but creamier. I supposed that was my unique flavour, tasted in her. I loved it that I could taste myself inside her, and I tongued and lipped her so devotedly that she began moving over me again, then moaning, and writhing, and with great cries of "Ahhh! Ahhh!" she came yet again. As she calmed down and her breathing grew steady I rolled us over, turned myself again to look into her eyes, and again kissed her face. She took mine in both hands and held it. "I hope its all right," she said. "I didn't mean for you to be tasting cum just yet, again, other than your own, if you didn't want to. But I loved what you were doing! I just loved it! I couldn't get enough." What she said puzzled me a little, but I assured her that women love the flavour of a man, or should, and that I loved being a woman with her as well as a man, and if I could taste myself as a man inside her I loved that too. "Oh darling," she said, "then please, let's always do this afterward, whenever we make love? I do so love the thought of you drinking cum out of me. It tells me you're a woman with me even when you're a man." I told her I was delighted to oblige. And I was. And thereafter that's what we did. I got so I couldn't tell her taste from my own. A few days later Jill resumed with her plan to make me into the girl of her dreams, as it seemed. It began innocently enough. "Well," she said as she got out of bed one morning, "Let's see what kind of a woman I'm married to." She looked at me closely, benign but critical. "Your hairdo is perfect for now, but we'll think more about it as it grows out. Your face needs attention, dear -- you've got to begin electrolysis." She looked over the rest of me carefully. "You know Jane, I never realized that Jack had such potential when he wanted to look female. You're marginal right now, and need more work, but I think you're going to look very nice, really beautiful in a way. Especially after you begin your hormone therapy." "Jill," I said, "I already look nice, I think. And what hormone therapy?" "Another ten pounds lighter would be nicer too I guess," she said, ignoring my question, still checking me out. "You're beginning to have a lovely figure, too, but it's time we thinned your waist down some more and rounded you out. We both start dieting this morning. Really. You shower first, honey, and then get dressed. A simple daytime dress, or blouse and skirt, nothing fancy, but panty-hose, and whatever shoes are comfortable and pretty. Just casual shopping this morning, and a stop or two. I want to make a few calls." With her return to thinking about my practical improvement I realized that the past few weeks had been our new honeymoon, more rapturous than the original one by far. Then we were both more inhibited sexually, and had different ideas about who we each were and what we each needed. Now we knew. Or I did, anyhow. I was still feeling exalted. The more openly I allowed myself to dress and look like a woman, the happier I felt, I realized, first with Marianne, then with Carl, and now with my very own wife. I mentioned this to Jill, and she hugged me and said "I know, darling, I know. It's true. I'm so happy that you think so too." I slipped out of my nightgown and into the shower, letting the hot water wash away all of the juices from our lovemaking. When I stepped out I saw a large bottle of body lotion waiting for me on the bathroom stool. While rubbing it all over and feeling it soften me, I remembered to check my tampon. At Jill's suggestion I had taken to wearing one all the time, "for the time being," she said. It was beginning to feel more natural for my pussy -- my rear end -- to be stuffed with something soft and comfortable. I kind of liked it. I slipped into a plain underwire bra and pantihose, a flowered shirt and a plain dark flared skirt, and my nicest black flats. I decided to do my hair and face after breakfast, and I headed down. When I arrived in the kitchen Jill was just hanging up the phone. "Well, there we are," she said, making an entry in her appointment book. "You're a busy girl today. But I think you're going to be a happy one." I kissed my wife. "I'm happy now," I said. And I was.