2 comments/ 34500 views/ 5 favorites The Sexual Transformation of Eugene By: LadyLovesBlue My name is Jean. It was "Eugene" until I decided I wanted to be a female. I am 25 years old, and the woman inside my male body has struggled for years to come out. It started in grade school. On dress-up day, I wanted to wear girl's clothes...I wanted to be a fairy princess. My mother made me a costume, a long satiny dress with a tiara and magic wand. She didn't seem to have an issue with dressing me like a girl. I sensed my father did. My father was rarely around, and when he was, he avoided me. I can understand that. Growing up, I didn't have (or want) male friends. I spent most of my play time with the little girls next door. My mother would set up tea parties on summer afternoons, and the girls would come over to play with us. Mother poured our tea from the little teapot. I spent many summer afternoons playing "Barbies" with the girls I remember stealing their Barbie dolls and bringing them home. I loved their smooth, sleek plastic bodies, especially the large breasts. I used to wear my mother's bra and stuff the satin cups with water-filled balloons, stroking the soft pliable mounds as I stroked Barbie's tits. I would stick marbles in the cups and roll them around, as if I were tweaking my nipples. In high school, I was drawn to girls, not because I wanted to get laid (well, not in the usual sense), but because I felt more comfortable in their presence. I wanted so badly to be one of them. The girls enjoyed having me around, maybe because they felt safe with me. They never flirted with me, and they seemed to understand that I was "one of them." We'd go to movies together, hang out at the food court, and talk about everything girls find important in their self-serving lives. They shared their fantasies with me, told me about their conquests, discussed make-up and clothes, and gossiped about who was getting fucked. They often asked me for advice about their love lives. I loved hearing their stories and was more than happy to comply. My sexual preference was never an issue with my peers. Neither the studs on campus nor the girls I hung out with ever thought I was gay. I was 5'10", dark haired, and had a muscular body. I didn't fit the stereotype. I was a threat to no one. The guys ignored me for whatever reason, but the girls loved having me around, maybe as a token, or possibly because I was a loyal friend. No one knew that I was struggling inside with conflict. I didn't share my fantasies with anyone. Although I was pretty much a loner, I was pretty happy with my life. But, the fact remained I wanted desperately to be a woman...I wanted a pussy and big tits. My physical attributes would not enable an easy transition into a female form. I don't have full lips, a small nose, or a hairless body. If that were not difficult enough, I was burdened with a huge dick. Had I been effeminate, of slight build, slim and fair, it would have been easier to pull off. I hated my body, the dark hair, the huge penis, the muscular arms. I shaved my chest, underarms, legs and genitals, preferring the smooth skin. I wore women's silky underwear, anything to negate my masculinity. After I graduated high school, I went on to college and studied Art. I lived at home with my mother (my father left her when I was 13), rarely went out, and concentrated on my studies. Mother never questioned me about my solitary life, and I never offered any information. I didn't talk to her about anything significant...she just wasn't interested. She preferred her dull, boring life without any problems. So, I clammed up and became reclusive. I spent the next four years of my life in this environment, until I graduated with a degree in Graphic Art. I moved out of my mother's house and into my own apartment. I immediately got a job with a movie company in Los Angeles, throwing myself into my work and making a good living. I spent most of my nights surfing the internet, looking at porn, reading erotic stories, specifically related to transsexuals or she-males. These "women" were so feminine and beautiful, but they all had huge, ugly cocks. I dreamed about being one of them...but without the penis. I used my artistic talents in creating cartoons about beautiful curvy women with tiny shriveled cocks. I envied the women I created, their beautiful big tits, curvy asses, wide-open pussies, inviting me to join them, with their come-on looks and red lips wrapped around an unbelievably large penis. I never wanted their lips around my cock...I wanted their dildos in my own pussy. I lived my fantasies vicariously through my work. I had tried straight and gay sex on several occasions, mainly for the sexual relief. The attempts ended in failure and I felt worse afterwards. I was caught in the middle. Unless you have been in my position, you can't imagine the unhappiness, the fear, the self-loathing, the loneliness and the despair of being trapped in a body you don't want or like. I began to study literature on sex change operations, the process one had to go through in preparation for surgery. It sounded painful, both physically and emotionally. However, I was at the point where I knew I had to do something. I could not continue in my present state of conflict. It was becoming too painful. And...I was becoming lonelier. I needed sex – real sex, not self-administered, not dildoes up my ass. And I wanted a relationship,. I just wasn't sure what kind. I had saved a substantial amount of money in the past several years, and I was ready to take that first step. I had my list of doctors ready. I just needed the courage to call them. Then, one Sunday afternoon, while continuing my research at the library, I met a young woman, who would alter my life profoundly. Chapter 2 Sitting in a corner of the library, I was absorbed in a pile of textbooks on gender reassignment, fascinated by the story of Christine Jorgensen, the ex GI who had the operation in 1953. The transformation into a beautiful blonde woman was amazing. Her story echoed my own. It gave me hope. Thinking about leaving the library, I looked up and noticed a young woman across from me taking notes from a book. I was very taken by her, something that normally didn't happen. She was quite stunning. Her hair was a deep red and hung loosely around her face, tousled as if she had just got out of bed. She had perfect features; a straight, small nose, full luscious lips, beautiful large almond shaped eyes, the color of which I could not determine from the distance. Her complexion was milky and pale. She was slim and perfectly proportioned, had small pert breasts that showed just a hint of cleavage in her blouse. I wanted her body...I mean I literally wanted to have her body.. as my own. I was envious. She must have felt my gaze, as she looked up and smiled...yes, perfect white teeth. I melted. What was going on here? She turned her eyes back down to her paper, but I could not take mine off her. I found the woman I wanted to become. She looked up again, and repeated her smile. I smiled back, and began stacking my books. I tried to concentrate, but I was having difficulty keeping myself focused. I wanted to look at her again. I raised my head and saw that this gorgeous little creature was heading towards me. I panicked for a moment, wondering why I was reacting this way. I closed the book I had been reading so she wouldn't see the pictures I was studying. She spoke...a soft, sweet voice, "Hi. I've seen you here often. My name is Melanie." "Hi," I managed to say. "I haven't seen you here. Do you come here often?" Stupid thing to say. Of course she does, if she's seen me here. "I'm Gene," I said as I stood to offer my hand. "Hi Gene," she giggled. "Sorry, every time I hear someone say that, I think hygiene and it makes me laugh." I smiled at the corny line. I laughed with her self-consciously. "What are you studying?" Melanie asked me. "There sure are lots of books." She began to pick them up and look at the titles. I felt myself get queasy inside. "Oh," she said, "you are studying psychology too? I'm doing a research paper on homosexuality. I find it fascinating." "I'm doing research for my Thesis," I lied. "What, on people who want to be the other sex?" she questioned. "That must be horrible. Maybe we could study together and help each other out," she offered. "That would be nice," I found myself saying. "I would like the company." And so, that started a long and complicated relationship that would be the best and worst experience of my life. Chapter 3 Melanie and I met at the library once a week in the beginning. I found myself looking forward to Sunday afternoons with more enthusiasm than I ever had felt for anything. She was easy to talk to, charming, witty, and very, very smart. I loved listening to her theories on homosexuality, and she enjoyed my thoughts on the "perverted sexuality" of cross-dressers and transvestites. We quickly became good friends. Once a week at the library turned into twice a week. We began calling each other in between meetings, talking about her classes, my "paper". We always included a trip to a coffee shop at the end of each study session, and on occasion, we went out to grab a bite. I was happy having a friend. My loneliness was fading. Our friendship was easy and becoming deep. We never talked much about personal issues, like family, friends, or "feelings." There were no underlying sexual innuendoes between us, and we both were comfortable with that, or at least I was. Then one Sunday afternoon, Melanie invited me over to her apartment. Up to now, we had never been at each other's homes. She said she wanted to cook me a home-made meal. I don't know if she thought I wasn't eating properly, but the thought of having Melanie cook for me was a pleasant one. I agreed to meet her at her place at 7 PM. The invitation did not alarm me...I considered it a natural progression of our friendship. On my drive over, I stopped at a bakery and bought a loaf of freshly baked French bread, then stopped at a liquor store and picked up a couple bottles of wine, one red and one white, not knowing what she was cooking. I felt very happy meeting Melanie at her home and sharing more time together. She had become my best friend. I arrived promptly at 7 and rang the doorbell. Melanie greeted me with a hug and a brief kiss on the lips, and practically gushed at the sight of the bread and wine. She said it was perfect. She told me dinner would be ready soon...she was making pasta (of course...who doesn't like pasta?) We sat on her couch and talked about the day and how our research was going. I was very relaxed and comfortable being with Melanie. It was the end to a perfect day. Then Melanie said something that changed the atmosphere and rocked my world. "Gene, we have been seeing each other for months now, and we've become very close. But, you've never made a move towards me or shown me any affection other than that of friendship. I have to ask you something." Damn. There it was. I was wondering when she would question our relationship. "Do you have feelings for me?" she asked timidly. "Melanie, you know how much I care for you. I love you. You are my dear friend," I answered, truthfully. "Yes, I know. I love you too. But, you don't seem to be attracted to me, sexually. I have been waiting for you to take the next step, but you haven't. Is there something wrong with me?" she asked innocently. Oh God, I thought. Here it comes. I had been perfectly happy with our relationship and did not want things to change. I thought she accepted our relationship as it was. But then, she's a woman...things always change. "Oh God, no, there is nothing wrong with you. You're perfect. What a silly question," I answered, feeling sweat form on my brow. God, where would she take this, I thought. Melanie got up and poured us each a glass of wine, and returned to the couch, sitting closer to me. "Gene, are you gay?" she blurted out. My heart started racing. I struggled for an answer, any answer – right, wrong or indifferent. She took my silence as affirmation, then she continued nervously. "Of course, there's nothing wrong with being gay. You know I am not homophobic or anything, and I think you are the most wonderful person I have met..." I cut her off. "Melanie. I am NOT gay." I declared looking her straight in the eyes. I was very amused by her discomfort. "Then....what is? What's going on?" she asked. "I don't know. I think you are beautiful, intelligent, and yes, sexy. But I don't want to spoil our friendship by making it sexual. I like things the way they are." "Our friendship?" she mocked. "Our friendship means more to me than studying, having a coffee now and then, or a dinner once in a while. We have been seeing each other for a long time, and I want more. Quite frankly I am getting impatient. Please tell me how you feel." I was at a loss for words. I didn't enjoy being questioned like this. . It wasn't like her. What was I supposed to say? : Well, you see, Melanie, it's like this. I am a man who wants to be a woman, involved with a woman who wants me to be a man?" Somehow, I didn't think she would understand. I threw myself back on the couch in resignation. Melanie sensed this and backed off. She said she was going to check on dinner. She came back with a full glass of wine for each of us. She set the glasses down on the table and sat next to me on the couch. Her beautiful brown-amber eyes were searching mine. I felt such love for her at this moment, but I didn't know how to handle my emotions. Picking up on this, she leaned into me and put her hand on my face, turning it towards her. She then kissed me, slowly, lovingly and sensually. I felt my cock twitch. What the hell was going on? She needed reassurance that she was desirable, and I found myself not resisting, as I returned her kiss, harshly and passionately, drawing her into me and hugging her tightly. She began stroking the side of my face, her breath coming in short gasps, looking into my eyes. I continued holding her tightly, wanting to surround her body with mine. "I love you," she whispered. "I have waited so long for you to hold me and kiss me." She lay her head on my chest, and I stroked her hair, my beautiful Melanie. I was so confused at the feelings I had...I was reacting to her emotionally and physically like a man, but I felt the bond of two women. I didn't know where to go from there. If only I could be Melanie and have someone love me like this. She began rubbing my chest, her hand reaching under my shirt and lightly touching my nipples, which were so fucking hard at this point. My cock had hardened to its full erection, and she began to rub it through my pants. I was in heaven as she stroked me and kissed my neck and moaned her hot little breaths against my neck. What the fuck was I doing? At this point, my cock overtook my brain, and I found myself wanting her...all of her. My manhood reacted on its own while my mind was in a state of confusion. In a hectic minute, our clothes were on the floor (thank God I hadn't worn my silk undies), and we were naked together on the couch, my stupid cock bobbing around searching for its prey. Her body was just as beautiful as I could have imagined, and I no longer felt self-conscious. She continued stroking me, biting and licking my nipples. I buried my face in her breasts, licking and nibbling at her nipples, while my hand stroked her soft belly and moved towards the soft patch of red hair. Melanie was moaning and pushing her hips up to my hand. I found her wetness and gently rubbed her clit as I stuck a finger in her hot, juicy pussy. She began fucking my finger with her hips, slowly at first then building to a frantic pace. I closed my eyes and I fantasized that I had large breasts pressed against hers and we were in the throes of a lesbian act, and I felt myself on the verge of explosion. She sensed my tension. "Fuck me, Gene, please, oh God I want you in me so bad!" she begged, as she lay back on the couch with her knees up and legs spread. Her voice interrupted my fantasy, and I felt my cock deflate at her words. I tried to hide this as I moved down on the couch and began to nibble at her thighs, slowly moving towards her sweet pussy. I tried to distract her as I knew I wouldn't be able to get it up for her. I stared at the beautiful pussy in front of me, so wet with excitement. I began to lick her glistening slit, slowly separating the lips to find the little pink bud, licking and biting it gently. "God, yes," she moaned. "Fuck me with your tongue!" A reprieve... I didn't even think about what I was doing, more concerned that she would notice my limp dick. . I shoved my face into her beautiful pussy, tonguing her hard and fast, tasting her sweetness. I nibbled at her clit, licked the length of her slit then shoved my tongue back in for more. Melanie began squirming and breathing heavily. As she thrust her hips up to meet my mouth, she began to cum, a huge wave of contractions, followed by several small after-waves, my chin all wet from her juices. I was so excited, and I wanted so badly for her to reciprocate. I never wanted my own vagina as much as I did at this moment. Melanie lay limply on the couch, flushed, as beads of sweat glistened on her breasts. I sat up and looked at her, so beautiful at this moment, wiping the juices from my chin, and covering her erect nipples with it, slowly massaging them.. "So, do you doubt your sexual appeal now?" I asked smiling. "No, I mean, you were wonderful, it was awesome, Gene. Now it's your turn. I want to please you." "No, not now," I said simply. I was totally confused and felt discomfort at the thought of her sucking my cock. I was so afraid that I wouldn't respond, and wasn't sure if I even wanted to. I loved eating her pussy and nibbling her breasts, but that was the female part of me coming through. I didn't want her lips on my cock. Not now...now ever. Melanie sat up slowly, and although she seemed confused, (I mean what man wouldn't want a girl to give him a blowjob?) she accepted it in her endearing way. "Are you sure?" she asked sadly. "I feel selfish. Next time?" "Okay," I replied, mainly to end the subject. "So, get yourself cleaned up and let's have some dinner." We ate good pasta...drank more wine, watched a movie, and snuggled together so comfortably. I felt good and content, and it seemed like Melanie did as well. After the movie, I said I had to leave....had to study. She nodded and said she had to write more on her paper. We hugged each other, and I allowed her to give me another long, hot kiss, before I turned and she shut the door behind me. As I walked outside, a blast of cold air hit me, as if trying to sober me up. As I walked to my car, I thought about the night. What the hell happened? What was I going to do now? I couldn't imagine our relationship progressing sexually, and I was worried. What would I do the next time Melanie invited me to her apartment? It wasn't fair that I left her with a glimmer of hope. She was naïve and didn't think anything of the night's events. I started perspiring and felt anxious as I got into my car to drive home. Home: no pressure, no lies, no sex.... I looked forward to it. I got home in about 15 minutes, glad to be on my familiar ground. I walked into my apartment... my safety zone.. I grabbed a Coke from the fridge, and noticed a light flashing on my answering machine. I pressed play and I heard Melanie's voice: "Hi Baby," (she never called me that) she said in a sexy voice. Hope you got home okay. I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed tonight. I'm looking forward to seeing you again. Maybe I can fix supper for you again on Friday? Don't forget...it's your turn next!: I've already planned something special. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, Mel." The Sexual Transformation of Eugene Pt. 02 Part II (Melanie) Chapter 1 I awoke on Monday morning to the annoying buzz of my alarm clock. Groggy, and wanting more of the peace I found in sleep, I hit the snooze alarm and rolled over. I tried to catch a few more minutes of sleep, but the events of the previous night came flooding into my head, pushing out the lingering cobwebs of my dreams. Had I dreamed it, or had I actually made love to my best friend? As my mind began to clear, the reality of the night unfolded in vivid details. My final thoughts as I drifted off to sleep last night were that I would tell Melanie everything next Friday. Maybe she would understand...maybe she would help me...maybe we could be lovers. I had to begin my transition. I sat up abruptly in bed, the reality of my situation sobering me. I could smell the lingering aroma of Melanie's heady perfume as I headed for the bathroom. Looking at my face in the mirror, I shuddered to see my five o'clock shadow already in full force. I washed my face and quickly shaved the stubble away, as if trying to deny my masculinity. I wondered how I would ever be able to pull off being a woman, when I was so undeniably male. I had researched gender reassignment thoroughly and was amazed at the transformations I saw. I read Christine Jorgensen's autobiography and knew first-hand the pain she went through, knowing that God had made a terrible mistake. I was ready to begin my therapy and start the process, convinced that I could not continue living life in a man's body. But then, Melanie happened. Melanie had fallen in love with me, a natural progression, I suppose, of our long, deep relationship, one that I had considered platonic. I loved her as well...but not romantically, and certainly not in a sexual way. I had made a terrible mistake by allowing myself to become sexually involved with her, at her persuasion, and giving her a hope that I would soon crush. Melanie was so naïve and innocent in all this. We were dear friends, soul mates. I cherished our relationship. She was smart, beautiful, caring and supportive of me in every way. I had become dependent on her and needed her in my life. I had no one else. I told her I loved her all the time, and I meant it. Up until last night, she had never questioned my feelings about her. Questioning my lack of sexual advances, she asked me if I was gay. I laughed. If only it were that simple. How could I tell her the truth? I didn't know what I was going to do, but I had all this week to think about it, before I saw her again on Friday. She was going to make it a special night and surprise me, she said on my voice mail. I knew what she had in mind, and I had to find a way to avoid it. Chapter 2 Working as a free lance artist in Los Angeles, I didn't have an office to report to. I worked out of my apartment. Today, I planned to begin my search for a doctor who would help me in my transition to become a woman. I was fortunate to live in a city where good (and bad) medical help was abundant. I had to be careful. As I began my search on line, I became anxious...anxious to finally be taking the steps to begin my life change, and at the same time afraid of what lay ahead, both in my own life and in my relationship with Melanie. I rationalized that if I had something concrete to share with Melanie, it would make my confession easier to present. She would know I was serious and would not try to change my mind. I spent hours on the computer until I came up with several doctors who specialized in gender reassignment. Not surprisingly, there were a couple doctors in Beverly Hills, and many more in the surrounding LA area. Some were in Seattle, and many were in Britain. I wanted to stay local. I learned through my research that, although not a law, it is highly recommended that the candidate for gender reassignment should live for a year in the new gender role, going through therapy, both mental and hormonal. Although I wanted to be a woman immediately, I knew that there would be a long road to getting there. This would be difficult and I wasn't quite sure how I would manage it. Selfishly, I hoped Melanie would help me through it. I learned what would happen in the surgery. I would actually have a vagina and a clitoris formed from the skin and a small piece of erectile tissue preserved during the surgery. I would be able to enjoy sexual intercourse and have orgasms. I would have breasts, although not large ones, as I had hoped. The biggest concern would be my voice. I learned that with male to female reassignment, taking hormones would not change my voice, and that I would either have to have surgery or voice control lessons. So, I thought, what's wrong with a woman who has a deep, sultry voice? After checking references and making several phone calls, I finally found a doctor whom I thought would best suit my needs. With shaking hands and a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I picked up the phone and made the call. I got an appointment for the following week for an evaluation. I was scared and excited, but mostly relieved that I had finally done it. The rest of this week would be torture as I came to terms with my decision and waited for Friday night to share my news with Melanie. Chapter 3 Melanie called me several times during the week. This was not unusual, since we usually kept in touch on a daily basis. Her demeanor had changed. She had assumed the role of a lover rather than a friend. One night of sexual intimacy had redefined our relationship. I was sad...I wanted my old Melanie back. But, I could only blame myself. I agreed to go to her apartment on Friday, as she had suggested. I told her I had something important to discuss with her, and after several attempts to find out what it was, she gave up and told me to come by around 6 PM. I asked if I could bring anything, and she said, "just yourself, baby." I cringed at her words and the way she said them. This was going to be harder than I thought. On Friday, I gathered up all the information I had collected regarding sex change and put it in my briefcase. I was anxious to share it with Melanie...once I dropped the bomb on her. Around 4 PM, I started getting ready. I shaved the stubble from my face, and drew a hot bath. I added my favorite bath salts and soaked for several minutes, trying to relieve the tension that had mounted during the day. I played some classical music and lay back in the tub. I massaged my body with a silky washcloth, paying particular attention to my nipples. I felt a tingling in my groin and felt an erection beginning. I lathered my hands and began stroking my smooth cock and hairless balls, enjoying the smoothness and hardness at the same time. After several minutes of total relaxation, I started my routine. I shaved my legs, underarms, abdomen, chest, and forearms, ridding myself of the dark manly hair that defiled my body. I pulled the plug in the tub and watched the traces of my masculinity go down the drain. I cleaned out the tub and turned on the shower. I washed my hair and slowly massaged my scalp, enjoying the feeling of the shampoo in my hands. After I rinsed my hair, I grabbed the bar of Dove and, working up a good lather, ran my hands over my smooth body. The feeling of the silky soap gliding over my body was bliss. I ran my fingers over every part of my body, paying special attention to my ass, running a soapy finger around the rim of my anus, then inserting it several times. Knowing I was clean, I continued fingering my asshole, simply because it felt wonderful. After my ritual, I toweled off and lay on the bed. My fan was on, and the slight breeze felt heavenly, teasing my erect nipples and cooling me off. As I lay there, hands behind my head, Mozart playing in the background, I nearly fell asleep. I began thinking about the night ahead of me, and wishing I could stay in this moment forever. But....I had to see Melanie. Chapter 4 I got up and got dressed, putting on a pair of black women's underwear. The silk against my cock and balls was delicious, and I took a moment to stroke myself. I wasn't concerned about Melanie seeing my undies. I was certain there would be no sex tonight! I got to Melanie's apartment a little late. I rang the doorbell and heard Mel say to "c'mon in! I'll be right out." I walked into the living room and set my briefcase on the couch. As I looked around, I could see that Melanie had, indeed, planned a special evening. There were scented candles glowing everywhere; mood music was playing softly, and the lights were turned down low. Quite a romantic setting. "Get yourself a drink and sit down," Mel shouted from the bedroom. "I'll be right there." I headed to the kitchen and noticed a bottle of Champagne chilling in a bucket on the dining room table. I smiled. She's doing it up in grand style, I thought to myself. I grabbed a Coke rather than wine, as I wanted a clear head for what was to follow. I sat on the only chair in the room and waited. In a few minutes, Melanie came out of her bedroom, and as she walked into the living room, my heart jumped into my throat. She looked drop-dead gorgeous. She had on a short red dress that fit her body like a glove. Her breasts were bulging over the low cut neckline, and her long, tanned legs were complemented by strappy, high heeled sandals. Red painted nails finished the effect. Her beautiful lips were red and glossy and her tousled hair was pulled back and held by a red clip. At this moment, I almost wished I could feel like a man and throw her down, taking her right there on the living room floor. I don't recall every feeling this overwhelmed by the sight of a woman. "Get a grip," I told myself. She stood in front of me. "Well? Do you like it?" she asked with a coy smile. "I like it," I replied. "You look ravenous." "That's the effect I was going for." She walked over to me and gave me a kiss. Her lips tasted like cherry. "So, what's this news you want to share with me? I couldn't wait for you to get here. Something good, I hope?" Where to begin? Should I just lay it all on the table right now? Should I wait until after dinner? This wasn't going the way I had planned. I was nervous. I wanted to stall. "How about we have some dinner, first?" I suggested. "Or...we could have sex first," Melanie smiled. "Jesus," I thought. I've really lost control here. Chapter 5 I decided to take control and tell Mel what I had come here for. All my "practice" lines had vanished, and I found myself standing in front of her with just my "dick in my hands" so to speak. "Mel, there is something about me that I haven't told you, and I think it's time you know," I began. Mel's smile faded and her beautiful eyes met mine with concern. "Please sit down," I continued. She walked slowly to the couch and sat down, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes staring at mine. "I'm not going to like this, am I, Gene?" she asked, her intuition hitting home. "I don't know, sweetheart, if you will like it, but I am hoping that you will hear me out and try to understand what I am going to tell you." "Okay, go on," Mel said, fidgeting with her dress. I gathered up my courage and simply said, "Mel, I want to be a woman." She stared at me for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Gene, you are so funny. I never know what you are going to do. That's why I love you so much." I remained silent, and continued looking her in the eyes. After a few moments, her expression changed, and she said, "Gene, stop this. It's not funny." I went to the couch and sat down next to her. I took her hands in mine, and said, "No, it's not funny, and I am totally serious. I don't know what to say, except that what I said is true. I didn't tell you sooner, because there was no reason to. Until last Friday. Things got a bit 'out of control' for me, and I knew I had to tell you the truth. I would have eventually, you know?" "This is stupid," she responded. "You are fucking with my head and frankly I'm getting pissed off." Mel had never used words like this before, and I knew she was very upset. I didn't know what to do. "Melanie, I'm trying to share my life with you. I need you to understand and accept me for what I am," I said seriously. "You want to be a "woman." What the hell does that mean?" "Remember last Friday? Remember you asked me why I didn't make a move on you? Remember you asked me if I was gay? Didn't that make you think farther than whether or not I wanted to get laid?" I spat the words out and immediately regretted it. Melanie began to cry. I hated it. This is not the way I wanted this to go. "Why are you being so mean?" she sobbed. "I thought we were friends." "We ARE friends, and that is why I want to share this with you," I replied. After a few uncomfortable moments, she said, "After all this time together, after all we've done and been through, all along you knew that we would never be together. You made love to me. You led me on." I didn't reply. There was an uncomfortable silence. Mel's eyes were glancing to the floor, then she lifted her head and her face changed, as if a light bulb had gone on in her mind. "When we met in the library," she said, "you were studying books on transsexuals. I thought you were working on a paper." "No, Mel, I lied to you. I wasn't working on a paper. I was researching gender reassignment. It wasn't something I wanted to share with anyone...not then." "Why do you want to be a woman? I don't understand," she asked innocently. "You seem fine the way you are." "You don't know how I feel inside. From the time I was 4 years old, I knew something was terribly wrong with me. I don't know how to explain it. Everything inside me was female, but my shell was male." I could see that Mel was uncomfortable with what I was saying, so I stopped. "But you love me," she said.. "You told me so." "Yes, I love you. You are the most important person in my life and being with you the past year has been the most wonderful experience I could have imagined." "Gene, I am very confused right now, and very sad. I think I would like you to go," she said.. "Mel, please. Let me try to explain things better," I pleaded. "No, not now. I want you to go." She got up and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. I sat on the couch, dejected and numb. I felt I lost Mel, and I needed her desperately right now. I got up and grabbed my briefcase. I thought about going to her, but decided to leave her in peace. I walked out the door not knowing if I would ever see her again. It was the worst night of my life. Chapter 6 When I got home, I immediately checked my answering machine, hoping there would be a message from Mel. There wasn't. I thought about calling her but decided to let her get back to me on her own terms. A few days went by without hearing from her. I already missed our Sunday together. I was getting ready for my first appointment with the doctor and had wanted her to be there with me...and for me. It looked like I would be doing this alone and it frightened me. But I wasn't going to back out now. The day before I was to see Dr. Kline, Melanie called. I was excited to hear her voice, regardless of what she might say. "Hi Gene (little giggle). How have you been?" she asked. "I've been miserable not hearing from you," I replied honestly. "Are you okay?" "Yah, I'm okay, I think. I've been doing a lot of thinking since Friday, and I want to talk to you about this. Can we get together tonight?" she asked. I felt a sudden wave of relief come over me and, once again, I felt such love for her. "Yes, I would love to see you tonight," I answered. "Me too. I miss you. Do you want to come to my place, or where do you want to meet?" she asked. "You've never seen my place," I ventured. "Maybe it's time you did." I was thinking it would be good for her to see how I lived, and I could share all my research with her. "That would be great. I'd like to see where you spend all your time." "Ok...uh, how about if I pick you up around 4. We could grab a bite to eat then go back to my place... if that's okay with you?" "Perfect," she replied. "See you at 4." "Great. See you at 4. And Mel? I love you," I added. "Love you too. Bye." My heart was turning cartwheels in my chest. I felt giddy, happy, excited...all the good emotions that I always felt when I was around Melanie. I couldn't wait until 4. I got to Mel's apartment at 3:45. She was smiling when she opened the door. "A little anxious, are we?" she asked. "Let me grab my purse." We walked to our favorite restaurant, only a few blocks away. The conversation was "normal", and the subject of our meeting was not brought up. We had a light dinner, then we walked back to my car, hand in hand. That made me happy. I felt like shouting the "Titanic line: "I'm King of the world!". We drove 15 minutes to my place, listening to music and getting caught up on Mel's weekend. She was very talkative and seemed comfortable being with me. Chapter 7 I opened my door and let Mel enter my apartment ahead of me. She began looking around, taking in my "personal space." Framed prints of some of my work hung on the walls. The rooms were sparsely furnished but everything was neat and clean. "This is nice, Gene," she said. "Looks very comfortable. Did you do the artwork?" "Yes, it's all my stuff. Do you like it?" I asked. I was waiting for her answer. Most of the prints involved women in various poses and attire, although tastefully done. They all had beautiful faces and large breasts. The genitals were covered with various distractions so as not to reveal that these were transsexuals. "It's different....but I like it. Very sexual." "Can I get you something to drink?" I asked. "Yes, just water, please. Then let's talk." I grabbed us both a bottle of water and we sat on pillow sac chairs, facing each other. "I had a lot of time to think about what you told me on Friday. I spent hours on the computer checking out transsexuals and the various websites. I think I understand your situation, although it's hard for me to imagine." "I'm glad you did that. It's very hard to explain," I said. "How long have you known this?" she asked. "What? That I wanted to change my sex, or that I felt like a woman?" "When did you start realizing what you were? I mean, that you knew you were a female inside?" I smiled. She was being very careful not to offend me. "I've probably know it since I was 4 or 5, but of course, at that age, I didn't know what it was that I was feeling." "So all the time you were growing up, you had feminine feelings? What about your parents? What was it like in school when your friends were dating? It must have been strange," she said. I began my story. I talked for hours. I told her everything about myself growing up, about having only female friends, not really being attracted to them sexually but wanting to be one of them. I told her how my mother would enable me by buying girly toys and having tea parties; how I spent so much time alone in my room and not feeling a part of anything or any one. I told her that I wanted someone to love and to love me and how difficult it was in my present state. I revealed how I hated my male body and shaved myself, wore women's underwear and pretended to be a woman. I even told her how much I envied her beautiful body and how much I wanted to be loved in the way I loved her the last time we were together. Mel listened to my story, a serious look on her face, only interrupting for clarity, or to get another drink or to go to the bathroom. At times, I could see tears well up in her eyes, and I could see the compassion in her face. I felt like I was on a psychiatrist's couch, and the catharsis I felt in being able to tell someone about my feelings, without judgment or criticism, was so good and wonderful. The Sexual Transformation of Eugene Pt. 02 When I was finished telling my story, Mel came over and lay down next to me. She kissed me on the cheek, and took me in her arms. We lay cuddled together, both of us crying, and I felt the tension and fear flow from my body. We really were soul mates, and I loved this woman like I've never loved anything in my life. It was getting late. I knew I had to take Mel home soon. She had fallen asleep in my arms and I hated to disturb her. She looked so peaceful. As if reading my mind, she stirred, and realizing I was awake, she sat up and looked at me, brushing my cheek with her fingers. I smiled. "I should probably take you home, huh?" I said. "I have to get some sleep. Got my first doctor's appointment tomorrow." "I was thinking. Maybe I should go with you for support?" she asked timidly. "Would you really do that for me?" I asked incredulously. "That would mean a lot. I'm really pretty nervous." "Of course I'll go. Why don't I just stay overnight and we can get up together in the morning and prepare you for this. Prepare US for this." I grabbed her hand and helped her up from the floor. I led her to my bedroom and after brushing our teeth and relieving ourselves, we got into bed, kissed each other goodnight and snuggled together. We woke up in the same position to face a new day, and a new life. The Sexual Transformation of Eugene I stood next to the phone in a state of numbness. Sex always changes things. This wasn't what I wanted, and I had to be honest with Mel and not lead her on. "What do I do now?" I said out loud. No one answered. I had to tell her the truth... soon. I couldn't let her get more involved and risk hurting her. But the truth would hurt her too. I decided to sleep on it, and I would come to some sort of solution in the morning. I went to my bedroom, stripped my clothes off and lay down naked on my bed. I reached over and grabbed a pair of silk undies, and began rubbing them on my nipples....so soothing. As I drifted off to sleep, my mind was on how much I enjoyed eating a woman's pussy, and how awesome it would be if a man were eating mine right now. ....I made up my mind that I would tell Melanie everything next Friday. Maybe she would understand...maybe she would help me...maybe we could be lovers. I had to begin my transition.