Archive-name: Changes/fareast.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Far Eastern Adventure, A





    He was transferred to the Far East with no real choice in

the matter.  His boss never took no for an answer and rarely gave

him the opportunity to try.  She had been acting strangely for

the last few weeks, eyeing him oddly as if trying to unravel some

hidden mystery within him.  This strange perusal upset him more

than it might have somebody else because he lead a secret life

that he dared not share.  Still he felt reasonably sure that his

private passion was still secure and undisturbed.  His concern

for security was extreme, and he took every precaution against

discovery.  But still there lurked a nagging doubt deep within

him that one day his secret life would catch up with him and

leave him exposed to the ridicule of his colleagues.  

    After all how could they understand why a successful

professional would want to dress and act the way he did.  He

didn't really understand it himself, but knew that it was a

delicious compulsion and one which he could not resist.  After a

long day at the office he would return to his bachelor's

apartment and draw a steaming hot bath.  While the water was

running he would strip off his drab office attire and admire his

lithe form in the full length mirror.  Each evening as he did the

exercises designed to keep himself trim, he concentrated on

maintaining his figure, perhaps to an extreme.  He sometimes

wondered if this preoccupation would be his downfall, but he knew

that this was just something that he had to do.  Each evening as

he lowered himself into the steaming hot tub and let the perfumed

bubbles soften and refresh his skin, it was as if the outer world

retreated, and he was somehow freed to become a whole person.

    His nightly routine had become almost a ritual.  After ten

minutes of lying prone in the over-sized tub, he would sit up and

begin shaving.  He still took such pleasure in watching the

stubble on his body disappear, leaving clean white limbs and a

smooth chest.  He often remembered how as a young boy in the

locker-room others had worried about how slowly the hair on their

chests was growing, while he of all people had to sit and watch

the hair on his chest growing at what seemed like an exorbitant

rate.  It wasn't fair he had often thought.  Why couldn't people

simply will their hair to go grow or go away as they wished?  It

wasn't until much later that he had realized that if he couldn't

control its rate of growth, at least he could regulate its

appearance.

    After removing all the hair from his arms, legs, and chest,

he would rise from his bath, wrap himself in a full-length, pink

bathrobe, and glide gracefully into his walk-in closet to select

his attire for the evening.  As a bachelor he spent nearly every

penny of his salary on clothes.  Not on the dull male uniform

that he wore to the office each day, but on a wondrous array of

brightly colored blouses and skirts and dresses.  He loved

nothing better that to spend the evening trying on one outfit or

another dreaming all the while that he had somehow been

transformed into a wild and exotic creature.

    He had with time become rather expert at applying make-up to

cover his beard and soften his masculine features.  He could

spend hours experimenting with shading and contouring and had

come to know his face like an artist knows a canvas.  Depending

on his mood he could create a face that reflected passionate

emotions, gentle contemplation, serene peace of mind, or

simmering sexuality.  After selecting and adjusting a wig to suit

his mood, he at last felt as if he could begin to live.

    Unfortunately, the night by this time was flying by and he

ventured out only rarely, fearful of discovery and the inevitable

ridicule and disgrace which he was sure must follow.  The few

times he had managed to screw up his courage and step out the

door had been entirely uneventful.  A trip to a shopping mall in

the suburbs had been his most adventurous outing, and to his

relief no one had even noticed his presence.  He had taken care

not to over-dress for the occasion, restraining himself to a pair

of designer jeans and flat-heeled pumps instead of his favorite

dresses and skyscraper heels.  

    Once he had even ventured out to a lively bar where there

was a female impersonator show.  He had been mesmerized by the

beauty of the performers and found himself in an emotional

turmoil.  He wanted desperately to be just like those performers

and yet was also sexually aroused by their dancing.  At the end

of the show he had been sitting quietly at a table in the corner

when he was joined by a very handsome man who offered to buy him

a drink.  A wave of anxiety rose from his stomach leaving him

unable to respond in words.  He desperately shook his head and

stood to take his leave, but before he could escape the man

reached out and embraced him, kissing him hard on the mouth and

smearing his carefully applied lipstick.  Like a demon he

struggled to free himself and sped from the bar, filled with even

more conflicting emotions.  How horrible it was to be kissed like

that!  No wonder some women grew disgusted and angry with men who

forcibly tried to entice them!

    But what powerful feelings it had stimulated deep within

him.  He had never before been kissed by a man and was astounded

by his reaction.  What he had expected would be repulsive had

sent chills up and down his spine.  Instead of recoiling in

horror at the memory, he still felt a warmth and a tingling in

his loins.  

    The next morning he was still upset and had been unable to

go to work.  After calling in sick, he tried to find refuge from

his thoughts in the every day tasks of keeping house.  Wearing a

simple house-coat and just a touch of make-up and puttered around

the apartment straightening up and feeling quite domestic.  The

day literally flew by and he was just finishing hemming a lovely

new skirt, when the doorbell rang.  He jumped up and ran to the

bathroom in a terror.  What should he do?  Could he pretend not

to be home?  What if it was someone from work who was stopping

after work to see if he was O.K.?  He hurriedly wiped off his

lipstick, slipped on a bathrobe, turned off almost all the lights

and went to the door, feeling almost as sick as he had claimed to

be.  When he opened the door, to his horror he was confronted by

his boss with a briefcase full of work.

    When she asked after his health, he whispered hoarsely that

he was still feeling poorly, but hoped to be back in the office

in the morning.  She looked at him oddly, making him even more

nervous.  As if the encounter of the previous evening had not

been sufficient, here was his worst nightmare staring him in the

face.  But then to his relief she did not insist on coming in,

but instead handed him a letter from a colleague overseas and

took her leave.  As she turned to go she wished him good night

and hoped that he would make a speedy recovery from what ever was

ailing him.  He slipped back inside the safety of his apartment

after watching her stride forcefully down the hall.  He nearly

fell into his favorite armchair and tried to assess the damage. 

He glanced down at his feet and noticed to his horror that he had

forgotten to remove the bright pink polish from his toenails. 

    It was several weeks after this incident that his boss had

finally called him into her office for an important meeting.  She

smiled almost smugly when he entered as if she had found a

satisfactory answer to whatever problem had been worrying her. 

He felt once more her piercing stare and wondered with a tremor

if she had discovered his secret.  Instead of denouncing him on

the spot as some kind of pervert, she asked him to sit down and

explained what she had planned for him.  She said that she had

felt for a while that his talents were being wasted on the

domestic scene and wanted to give him a taste of the exotic.  She

had decided that the Orient was the place for him and was

transferring him to Singapore as of the first of the month.  He

was to spend the first month or so "getting acclimated" and

preparing only background pieces on the local culture.  Then he

was to begin writing more in depth pieces on local culture and

the arts.  

    He tried to explain that while he had studied liberal arts

in college, he had never done any writing of this kind.  She

pooh-poohed his excuses and said it was settled and he would just

have to prove his mettle as a reporter.  

    "A good reporter can find a story in anything," she reproved

him.  "The US audience is ready for a new angle, and I think a

taste of the exotic would be just about right.  We've had enough

about the technological prowess of our eastern competitors, what

we all want to find out is how they live their lives and what

they do with leisure time," she lectured.  



    In what seemed like a few short weeks he had packed up

almost all of his precious clothes and shipped them to the Far

East, unsure when and if they would get there.  It was extremely

disconcerting to be momentarily disconnected from his feminine

fantasy world.  He had kept out a few of his favorite things, his

prettiest nightie, some basic lingerie, a wash and wear travel

dress, a practical blouse, and a pair of jeans, but as soon as

the boxes were taken from his apartment he felt a growing sense

of unease.  What if they didn't arrive intact?  What if his

pretty things were somehow spoiled in transit?  What if they just

plain disappeared en route?  It was so terribly worrisome, that

he hardly had time to consider what a long term overseas

assignment would mean in terms of his personal life.  He had few

casual friends and acquaintances to whom he said good-bye.  His

family seemed very far away in their rural mid-western home; and

it had been several years already since he had been home.  He

was, come to think of it, virtually free of any entangling

alliances; he was ready for whatever adventures might be in store

for him.



    He arrived in Singapore after a long flight and checked into

his hotel.  It was late afternoon when he arrived, but he

immediately went to his room and drew a steaming hot bath.  It

seemed like several days since he had last shaved, and he simply

hated the thought of all that ugly brown hair starting to mess up

his lovely smooth form.  In a few minutes he had returned his

skin to a delightful smoothness and was beginning to feel that

delightful feeling of relaxation tingle down his spine.  Perhaps

this won't be such a terrible assignment he mused to himself as

he slipped on his nightgown and paused before the mirror to

tweeze a few stray hairs on his eyebrows.  As he stared in the

mirror an odd light gleamed in his eye.  Of course no one had

ever seen him here... They had simply been told that a new

journalist by the name of Lee Peterson would be reporting for

work at the end of the month.  His boss had very graciously

suggested that he take the month's leave which was due him at the

front end of his assignment to give him some time to get

acclimated to his new assignment.  She had even arranged for a

friend who was working in the States to sublet him her downtown

apartment for the next month on a trial basis.  He had opted to

stay in a hotel in the neighborhood for the first few nights, at

least until his things arrived.

    Hmm, he wondered.  Could I pull off the switch of a century

and show up for work as Ms. Lee Peterson instead of Mr. Lee

Peterson?  I would really catch hell if she ever found out, but

it might be worth it to break out of my glass cage for a while. 

He continued to re-shape his brows as mind raced through the

possibilities.  He would have to avoid any contact with the

Singapore staff until after he had had time to set up a new

public persona.  The thought of being able to adopt a publicly

more feminine role kept sending shivers of excitement up and down

his spine.  His fingers kept nervously plucking at away at his

brows until suddenly he realized that in fantasizing his new

role, he had reduced his usually trim eyebrows to pencil thin

arches that would have made a model jealous.  Well, he muttered,

no one knows what to expect in any case so at least they won't

notice a difference.

    He had just taken out his make-up case and was considering

whether to try out the new cosmetics he had treated himself to in

the airport, when he heard someone screaming in the hallway

outside his room and the sounds of a struggle.  Without really

thinking of the consequences he snatched up his robe and ran to

look out the peephole in his door.  Through the fish-eye lens he

could just see a man standing over the figure of a woman, yelling

at her abusively.  When he saw the man raise a stick to begin

beating her, he instinctively threw open his door and yelled in

his most authoritative voice "Hey, you!  Stop that immediately or

I'll call the police and have you arrested."

    At the sound of his voice the man turned with fear in his

eyes and beat a hasty retreat down the hall and into an elevator. 

The woman sprawled on the floor seemed dazed, but not badly hurt,

so he tried helping her to her feet. When her legs sagged beneath

her he half dragged and half carried her to his room and helped

her to lie down for a few minutes on his bed.  He started to call

a doctor, but she pleaded with him in a husky voice, not to

bother, that she would be all right in a few moments.  She just

needed time to catch her breath.  He gave in grudgingly to her

entreaties and sat down in the armchair next to the bed. 

    He glanced at his guest curiously to gain any clues as to

her identity.  She seemed in her mid-twenties and was dressed in

a red silk dress which just covered her knees.  The stockings on

her legs barely covered the rapidly swelling bruises from what

looked like were repeated kicks to her shins.  One of her long

red fingernails was chipped and another broken from her struggle. 

Her shoulder length hair was in disarray, though it appeared to

have been carefully arranged earlier in the evening. Her finely

carved face seemed to have escaped any damage for the moment, and

her carefully applied make-up was hardly even smudged.  He

watched her fast breathing begin to slow down as she regained her

composure, and at last she sat up and smiled over at her

benefactor.  

    Suddenly it was his turn to be the subject of an

examination, and he suddenly realized what an odd sight he must

be.  His smooth shaven legs were carefully crossed at the knee

with his ankles touching in his best feminine manner.  His

bathrobe had ridden up when he sat down revealing several inches

of the hem of his lovely pink satin nightgown.  He had left his

eyebrow tweezers and make-up case on the vanity and his precious

new lipsticks, nail polish, and other sundries were completely

exposed. He glanced up in the mirror and realized that with his

wet hair slicked back the delicately curving arches of his

eyebrows were clearly inappropriate for a man.  

    He turned back to face his guest unsure what to do next and

was relieved to see a warm and friendly expression on her face,

rather than the accusation he had expected.  She leaned forward

and thanked him warmly for saving her from that horrible man. 

Her accent was flawless, but terribly British, as was everyone's

apparently in this former colony.  But there was something about

her voice that stirred him.  It wasn't quite right, there must be

something about the accent that was disconcerting he decided.  It

was a bit strange to hear such a British voice coming from the

mouth of such a pretty Asian girl.  He watched her clear her

throat once and watched her adam's apple bob up and down as she

swallowed.

    All of a sudden he realized what was disconcerting! This was

no she, but a man dressed as a woman.  No wonder she was smiling

at him. Suddenly they both laughed out loud, and reached out to

clasp each other's hands, recognizing the common bond which drew

them like sisters together.  He found himself trembling as he

held her warm hands.  He was filled with such powerful feelings

to have met someone like himself here in this city of strangers. 

It was so amazing he could scarcely contain himself and suddenly

felt his emotions begin to overflow and in a minute he was

sobbing tears of joy, of amazement.  To his surprise his guest

moved quickly up against him and put her comforting arms around

him.  It had been so long since any one had held him in such a

tender way, he felt all of his barriers come crashing around him. 

He put his head on her shoulder and let out a great passionate

sob.

    In a few moments the storm passed and he straightened

himself up and looked into her eyes.  He supposed that he really

should switch pronouns, but somehow just couldn't quite pull it

off.  This person looked like and wanted to be taken for a she so

a she she would be.  He felt the warmth of her gaze and realized

that he no longer felt awkward and withdrawn.  He was sitting

here next to her, exposed for the transvestite he was and he felt

so remarkably at peace with himself and the world.

    "What is your name? he asked when he could find the words.

    "Syoung Li," she replied with another smile.  "What is your

name, kind savior, with the beautiful face and the heart of a

maiden?"

    "My name is Lee, also," he heard himself reply.  "We must be

sisters after all to have a name in common as well as so much

else."

    She giggled at his words and smiled her assent.  

    "I have known some American men, but did not know that there

were any as pretty as yourself.  They are usually so aggressive

that it surprises me to find one of such sensitivity.  I had

thought only Asians were capable of appreciating the pleasures of

the feminine," she admitted seriously.  "But, you are something

special.  I can not wait to introduce you to some of my friends

down on Bugis Street.  Why don't we go there tonight?"

    With his heart in his mouth he tried to refuse making

excuses about his hair, his inappropriate clothes, and whatever

else came to mind.

    She refused to take no for an answer, promising that she

herself would re-style his hair, and anything goes on Bugis

Street, and furthermore her friends would never believe her if

she told them how she had been saved and by whom.  She then

reached out and stroked his cheek gently and saying, "Besides, it

would be a shame to keep such a pretty face alone in a hotel room

on a Saturday night".

    He was deeply torn by the conflict raging within him.  On

the one hand his self preservation instinct said this was a crazy

idea that might cost him his job or worse, but on the other hand

he felt suddenly sure that if he did not go he would regret

missing this chance for the rest of his life.  In the end he

nodded his assent, and felt his excitement begin rising.

    Immediately his mind was racing to the possible outfits that

he might possibly get away with in public.  Without his wigs he

would be hard pressed to be passable, but perhaps with some help

he might pull it off.  With the help of his eager accomplice he

threw open his suitcases and began pulling out the few feminine

clothes that he had brought along just in case.  

    First he donned a pair of silky soft panties taking care to

smooth back his penis, leaving no trace of his manhood.  He

wrapped his still undeveloped chest in a bra that hugged his

chest and stimulated his sensitive nipples with every move.  Soon

he was immersed in the ritual of becoming a feminine person, but

this time there was the added pleasure of a helpful and

supportive companion to smile encouragement and make helpful

suggestions.  When he struggled with the zipper on the back of

his dress her nimble fingers beat him to the punch and zipped him

snugly into his outfit for the evening, a medium length blue

dress, with padded shoulders, a full skirt, and low-cut back that

just missed exposing the straps of his bra.  He felt quite daring

in this outfit, but Li had insisted that this was the dress he

must wear.

    She next sat him down took charge of his make-up.  Although

he was accustomed to doing his own face, it felt extra special

and just a bit decadent to have someone else take control of the

transition.  He realized that he loved the feeling of being in

someone else's hands.  It was a powerful new sensation for a

confirmed loner like himself.  As she finished with his

foundation and began applying his lipstick, he suddenly felt an

eerie sense of transformation like he had never felt before.  it

was almost as if he was watching from afar while his male self

disappeared and was replaced by a lovely feminine figure.  What

surprised him was how easy it was to say a mental good-bye to the

uncomfortable figure of his male ego.  He turned to try and thank

his newly found sister, but she turned him face forward and began

painting his fingernails with a brand new polish the same shade

as his lips.   After she finished with his nails and he sat

waving his fingers in the air, she began teasing his hair.  She

took a can of hair-spray and began alternately teasing and

spraying his normally medium length hair into a delicate pouf

surrounded by curls.  He had never imagined that his own hair

could look like this.  It was almost like magic.

    Next it was her turn to re-apply her make-up, but when she

turned to look for her purse they both realized that it had been

left in the hall after the struggle.  When she opened the door to

look for it, it was no longer there.  

    "It doesn't matter," she said quickly.  "I never carry much

of value in my purse anyway.  I just wanted to re-apply  my own

make-up... "

    "But since we are like sisters, I would be honored if you

would share mine," he said generously.  She accepted his offer

gratefully and soon their lips were dyed in an identical shade of

red.  Now it was his turn to apply the nail polish for his

sister, and he did so as carefully as he could, trying not to mar

a single perfect nail.  Sharing the same cosmetics made them feel

even closer, though he would never have guessed at the time how

close they were soon to become.  

    At last they were ready to go out on the town and sample the

pleasures of Singapore by night and particularly this place they

called Bugis Street.  When he had asked her what was so special

about Bugis St., she looked surprised at his ignorance and said

that it was the transvestite center of the Asian world.  Girls or

pseudo-girls from all over the region came to explore their

femininity on Bugis Street she explained.  And men with a taste

for the exotic came to explore this newly developing femininity. 

    So, off he went into the night without really being aware

how much this single evening would change the course of his life. 

He simply knew that he had been waiting all his life for an

evening like this and nothing was going to interfere with his

enjoying it fully.     They walked down the hall and descended on

the elevator, giggling happily and making comments about those

two beautiful girls in the mirror on the back wall.  When the

doors opened they walked out bold as brass and crossed the lobby

in front of the clerks who had checked him into the hotel several

hours earlier.  They glanced at the two girls briefly and they

returned to the television which was blaring in the corner.  As

they left the hotel, he gave a sigh of relief and felt the first

waves of excitement course down his spine.  Here he was out in

public for the first time in the east and it seemed so natural

and easy.

    He turned to ask his companion how they would get to Bugis

Street, and she laughed gaily and said that he was standing on it

now.  The bar where her friends were waiting for her was just

down to the left about two hundred yards.  When his jaw dropped

in disbelief, she smiled and showed him the street sign at the

corner which proclaimed that this was indeed Bugis Street. He had

simply not registered the address of the hotel which his boss had

recommended for him as just around the corner from the apartment

where he would be staying for at least the next month.  What a

piece of luck he remarked to himself.  Here I am at the heart of

the Asian transvestite scene and I have a month off from work to

enjoy myself.  He never stopped to wonder why it was that his

boss had selected this particular place for him to stay and why

she had been so accommodating as to find him such a convenient

apartment in the middle of this busy city.  All that he could

think of at the moment was how lucky he was to have found a new

friend who enjoyed his company and was willing to show him about.

    When they arrived at the bar, he realized that it was filled

with all manner of creatures of varying style and appearance,

from the gorgeous glamour queens all decked out in sequins and

sky-scraper heels to the more shy and retiring maidens who sat

coyly at their tables in the back of the room.  Everyone seemed

to know Li and was happy to see her.  At one table near the back

several girls moved over and space for the two newcomers to sit

down for a drink.  He lowered his gaze discreetly as he felt many

eyes on him and tried to sit as gracefully as he could.  But he

realized that he made quite scene because he was the only

westerner in the room, at least the only western queen in the

room, although there were several men in suits over in the corner

trying to hustle a couple of the girls.  As he looked up to find

his friends face, he realized that everyone at the table was

smiling warmly as Li began recounting the tale of how she had

been saved by a heroic man in a nightgown, who turned out to be

really just a girl like themselves.  He could feel his face

growing red, but hoped that his foundation would cover up most of

his embarrassment.  He was unused to being the center of

attention, and while part of him thrilled to feel interested eyes

checking out his dress, his carefully painted face, and

presumably trying to gauge what kind of body was hidden under the

feminine finery, another part of him wished he could sink through

the floor and disappear for a while.  

    But soon one of the girls called for a round of drinks to

celebrate his arrival and soon they were all chatting gaily about

how wonderful it was to meet a sister from America.  When they

plied her with questions about the opportunities for going out en

femme in the States he had to admit that he was a relative novice

and had only been out once or twice before.  They seemed to find

it amusing that someone who was as obviously feminine as he was

could have possibly been able to avoid flaunting it in public for

so long.

    After a round of drinks, Li teasingly asked Lee if "she"

knew how to dance in her heels.  Lee smiled shyly and admitted

that she had practiced in her own room on several occasions, but

had never before been asked for a dance.  In a few minutes the

two sisters were whirling around the dance floor have a marvelous

time.  Lee could hardly believe how wonderful it felt to feel

one's skirts swirling gently about his knees, caressing his

smooth stocking-covered legs with a gentle touch.  It was an

amazigly sensual and delicious sensation that aroused a

heightened awareness within him of how much he loved being

dressed the way he was.

    After an hour or so the other girls at the table rose to

join some "friends" at another bar, and they all said profuse

good-byes and promised to meet the next evening at around the

smae time.  Their abrupt departure left the two "sisters" alone

for a while, and they each had a second drink and began sharing

their mutual interest in all things feminine.  After what seemed

like a few short minutes the proprietor of the bar called out

that it was closing time in ten minutes.

    As they reached the street and felt the suddenly cool early

morning air, they both shivered.  Li exclaimed that she had left

her jacket in Lee's hotel room, and he without thinking invited

her to return to the hotel to pick up her coat and to savor one

last drink.  Unwittingly he had fallen into her trap for the

second time.  First by coming to the door in his robe and

"saving" her and allowing himself to be shown off to the wider

community and second by inviting a "lady" like her back to his

room after numerous drinks.

    In a few moments they were back in his hotel room and

without thinking Lee offered to call down for a couple of

nightcaps from room service.  Li smiled inscrutably and asked for

a Singapore sling.  

    They sat together on the only available seat in the room, a

strategically placed loveseat near the window.  In a few minutes

they were engaged talking animatedly about the "girls" they had

met earlier in the evening.  Li was entertaining her host/hostess

with marvelous tales from the Asian gender community.  

    They were interupted by a knock at the door and without

thinking Lee rose to open the door for what proved to be a

handsome young waiter.  He looked over the two girls with

obvious interest, and then with a leering smile leaned over to

Lee and offered her the bill.  Lee took the bill and after a

hesitation, she signed her name Ms. Lee Peterson and the waiter

didn't blink an eye.  Ms. Lee Peterson has now arrived officially

in Singapore

    As soon as the waiter left, Lee turned to Li and explained

the source of her tension and excitement.  She clapped her hands

with glee and threw her arms around her new sister and gave her a

sisterly hug.  The hug was returned and then without a clear

transition the two pseudo girls were soon wrapped in a long and

increasingly passionate embrace.  

    Lee was suddenly tingling all over with incredible

anticipation.  This was a moment she had dreamed of for many

years, and suddenly it was all around her, assailing her senses

with an overwhelming outpouring of sensation.  Li's experienced

hands began caressing her prize and soon had Lee quivering and

moaining with pent-up passion.  

    One of Li's red-nailed hands slipped up under Lee's dress

and began stroking the inside of her exposed thigh.  As Lee

shivered uncontrollably, Li's other hand assertively flipped her

skirt all the way up around her waist and slipped under the waist

band of her panties, ripping them down to her knees in a

surprisingly strong motion for such a small person.  

    Lee moaned again in a low voice as her seducer's eager lips

moved in on her rapidly expanding genitals.  With lips, tongue,

and teeth Li devoured her new sister and soon had her thrusting

and throbbing with sexual energy.  Each time she felt an orgasm

mounting she pulled back just enough to let the tension subside,

and then began again her slow build-up.  Finally Lee could take

it no more, and exploded with a wail of ecstasy, collapsing back

onto the couch into a shivering huddle.



--