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Archive-name: Changes/gemini1.txt

Archive-author: Cherysse St. Claire

Archive-title: Gemini, The (Part 1)

    "Let me see if I have this straight," Janice retorted angrily. "You had

sex with one of my patients?"

    "I didn't know he - she - was one of your patients," I argued.

As mistakes go, this one was a real winner. Janice, my wife, is a Doctor of

Clinical Psychiatry. Aside from her thriving private practice, she is the

director of the Leto Clinic, the best-known facility for the councilling

and treatment of gender dysphoria. The clinic was her baby from the start.

Instead of the helter-skelter approach that had been the norm, Janice

combined all the services - group therapy, individual analysis,

endocrinology, and surgical facilities - under one roof. She handles

referrals from all over the world, ranging from men who just like to wear

their wives' panties to gender-reassignments. Her world and mine, as a

commodities trader, had never collided - until now.

    "Oh, well, that makes it all right! As long as you were blissfully

ignorant of my professional relationship with her, I shouldn't worry

about little details like `fidelity' or `marriage vows'," she replied

sarcastically. "So, if you didn't know Jade was a patient of mine, exactly

how did the two of you happen to wind up together?"

    "I met her at Tush Street."

    "Tush Street! That place is notorious as a pick-up joint for

    transsexual hookers! What were you doing there in the first place?"

    "Because I didn't want to spend another evening alone! I hardly ever

    see you anymore; you are either at your office or in the clinic. You 

    talk about your `girls' as though they were your children. If I see

    you at all, I'm lucky to get a peck on the cheek. I wanted to do

    something different tonight, preferably with a real live person. I  

    had never met a transsexual before, let alone one of your `girls'. I   

    wanted to meet one, talk to her, just get to know her. I had heard a

    lot of TS's went there, so I checked it out. Jade was there. She was

    beautiful. I was attracted. We talked. We had a couple of drinks. She

    propositioned me. In a moment of weakness, I said `yes'. Neither one of

    us mentioned you or the clinic. How was I to know she was one of your


    "Hold the phone, Buster," Janice snorted. "She propositioned you? You

KNEW she was hooking, and you said YES? You mean, YOU PAID FOR IT?" She

closed her eyes, groaned, and slapped her forehead. When she looked at me

again, her eyes blazed.

    "Well, Richard, you had a busy night last night. Not only did you

    destroy my trust in you; you managed to undo six months of delicate

    psychotherapy. Since you want so much to know more about my `girls', I

    will tell you. Jade is my most difficult case. She seemed like an ideal

    candidate for SRS, and she has no problems functioning as a woman -

    except one. She has a compulsive need to be loved. She hid, until after

    her surgery, the fact that she had been abandoned as a child by both

    her father AND mother. If I had known beforehand, I would have delayed

    the operation and done more extensive therapy. She probably realized

    that. Her compulsion manifests itself by driving her to hook. Unlike

    other transsexual hookers, Jade doesn't do it for the money; it doesn't

    really interest her. The money, and the false sense of self-worth it

    engenders, fuels her self-destructive desire to be `wanted' by someone

    - anyone. I thought I had finally straightened her out and convinced

    her to stay off the streets. I don't even know why she went back to

    that place; old habits, I guess. And then, here comes Good Old Richard,

    with hard cash and a hard-on. That was just like giving Smack to a

    junkie. Now, she's `hooked' again, in more ways than one. It will take

    me months to get her back to where she was, if she comes back to the

    clinic at all! I have been trying to reach her all day. She missed her

    regular appointment this morning. She's probably out hustling right

    now. I have some of the other girls out looking for her. Thanks a lot.

    You can sleep on the couch tonight."

    I felt a lot smaller than my usual 5'8" and 145 lbs. I lay awake on the

couch for hours in the dark, trying to think up some way to make amends to

Janice, whom I really did love. I finally drifted off into a troubled

sleep. I awoke with a start; at what time, I couldn't guess. Several pairs

of strong hands were holding me down, preventing me from moving. Just as I

was about to cry out for Janice, a cloth was clamped over my mouth and

nose; a cloth that had a pungent, penetrating odor. In a few seconds, I saw

stars - then, nothing.

    I regained conciousness, sort of, and tried to take stock of where I

was and what had happened to me. Was it still dark outside, or was it just 

me? I was lethargic, disoriented; unable to summon up enough resolve to

get up. I slowly scanned my environment, and through the fog surrounding my

brain, I deduced that I was in some sort of hospital room. There was an IV 

stand next to the bed; the bottle hanging from the rack was connected by a 

long tube to a needle stuck in my arm. The clinic? No; why would I be

there? I focused on voices speaking right outside the open door. I couldn't

quite make out the conversation, but I thought I heard the word `Gemini'.

Then two women in long white doctor's coats entered the room. One beamed

radiantly at me. JANICE! I was completely lost; what was going on? I tried

to speak, but could barely make a sound.

    "Good morning, Richard! Don't try to move or speak; you are sedated.

    Just lie there like a good boy. This is Dr. Collins, my Chief of

    Surgery. I am really disappointed in you, Richard. You betrayed my

    trust in you. That hurt. That hurt a lot. I suppose I SHOULD be

    flattered that you were attracted to Jade; she is my best work to date.

    Or, at least she was, until you screwed her up again. I thought about

    it after I went to bed last night, and the more I dwelled on it, the

    angrier I got. So I made a few phone calls. One nice thing about being

    Director here is that the entire staff is intensely loyal to me. They

    all turned out in the middle of the night to help me set up a little

    surprise - just for you! Since you expressed your attraction to my

    `girls', and you seem to prefer their company to mine, I thought you

    might like to become one of them. Usually, that process takes a couple

    of years, with psychological screening, councilling, slow, methodical

    hormone therapy, breast implants, plastic surgery, right up to the

    blessed event itself - The Sex Change! But for you, Sweetheart, I am

    going to cut through all the red tape. We are going to concentrate the

    efforts of all our departments to help you make your transition as

    quickly as possible, and I am going to see to it PERSONALLY that you

    are psychologically prepared for your new role - AS A WOMAN! So, you

    just relax, and let me take care of everything. See you soon, Sweetie!"

She turned a dial on the IV bottle, and before I could make even a feeble

protest, everything went black.

    A long time passed. Days? Weeks? I couldn't tell; it seemed like an

eternity. I had been sedated the entire time, drifting in and out of

conciousness, enjoying only occasional moments of semi-lucidity. I retained

flashes of images and sensations, like a strobe light gone mad; operating

rooms, masked medical personnel, tubes, needles - lots of needles - pain in

my face, throat, chest, abdomen, groin. There were other, more disturbing

images as well. A Beauty parlor. Fingernails. Hair. Fur in my eyes.

Janice's office. Janice's office? Yes. The diplomas on the wall. The small

potted palm in the corner. I'm walking towards a woman, while she

approaches me. Before we reach, I turn and walk back again. Towards her

again; away from her again. Back and forth, back and forth. I'm growing.

I'm getting taller each time I go back and forth. How much taller will I

get? I'm rocking; swaying back and forth. I'm on a boat? No, I'm on land,

but I'm swaying back and forth. Sit. Stand. Sit. Cross my legs. Uncross my

legs. Re-cross my legs. The couch. Me on the couch. Janice`s face over

mine, speaking slowly, clearly, authoritatively. It made me feel calm,

relaxed, soothed.

    I drifted slowly, dreamily into conciousness. I felt relaxed,

refreshed, as if I were Rip Van Winkle awaking after a twenty-year nap.

I was in Janice's office, sitting in the chair across the desk from my

wife. She was looking me up and down appraisingly, obviously pleased with

what she saw.

    "Hello, Richard. I wanted to take this last opportunity to speak to

    you; We won't talk again for a while. Oh, I will see you all right,

    but you won't be `Richard' anymore; You will be `Amber'. I thought the

    name was so sweet, and fit your beautiful golden hair. I must say, you

    are my best effort yet; even better than Jade. Why don't you stand up

    and take a look at yourself in the mirror?"

I felt as though I had received a commandment from God. I gracefully(?) 

uncrossed my legs and stood up. I felt incredibly light - except for an  

unfamiliar weight in my chest - and tall. So tall! I turned and approached

the mirror, stopped a moment; then moved on. There was an incredibly

attractive blonde approaching me from the other side of the room,

swivelling her hips fluidly, sensually from side to side, just like in my

dream. She stopped at the same time as I, then resumed her provocative

strut. Only as I reached the mirror did it dawn on me that the Blonde was

me! She - I - had a magnificent body, poured into a bright-red pucker-knit

tank dress. My incredibly-full, rounded breasts threatened to spill out of

their skimpy confinement. It was very obvious that I wore no bra, and my

nipples pressed invitingly against the thin material. My tiny waist was

highlighted by a tightly-cinched wide black patent leather belt. My hips

and tush flaired dramatically, and swayed back and forth without any      

concious thought. My long, slender legs were encased in whisper-sheer black

stockings, ending in black patent pumps with what appeared to be five-inch

spike heels. No wonder I felt so tall! I wore several gold chains around my

neck, huge gold hoops through my pierced ears, six gold bangle bracelets on

each slender wrist - which jangled musically as i moved - and a slender

gold chain around my left ankle. I pivotted expertly on my toes, hands on

my hips, admiring my shapely legs and the seams of my stockings. I hadn't

even thought about it, and I was posing like a fashion model! My

golden-blonde mane cascaded over my shoulders and down my back in full,

fluffy waves which gently bounced, just like my breasts, as I moved. My

make-up was dramatically overdone. My green eyes were bigger, wider-set,

and more expressive than ever before, shadowed in lime, emerald, and teal,

and completely outlined in black. The fur in, or rather on, my eyes was

real enough; My lashes were fuller, thicker, and blacker than any

showgirl's. A deep, dusky rose blush made my impossibly-prominent

cheekbones smoulder. My nose was now small, slender, delicate. I had the

fullest, plumpest, most-kissable ruby-red lips I had ever seen on a woman.

I raised my fingertips to my lips, and was startled to see long,

square-tipped scarlet nails at the end of each.

    "Janice! What have yo..."

I stopped cold. MY VOICE! That isn't my voice! This voice is so much

higher, softer, lilting.

    "Janice, PLEASE, tell me what this is all about!"

    "Why Honey, I think it is perfectly obvious what this is all about!

    You are a woman now; just like the ones you liked to fuck as a man.

    It has been such a treat over the last three months, turning you into a

    little blonde bimbo; well, not so little. I used textured saline

    implants on you and pumped them up REALLY full - I know how much you

    like women with BIG boobs! We put implants in your hips too; then

    liposuctioned most of the fat out of your waist, and re-injected it

    around your hips and fanny to fill you out. We have kept you in corsets

    since the liposuction, to make sure your waist was compressed down to a

    handspan, just like it should be. The diet we put you on helped in that

    department, too; you are down to 120 pounds now, and on you, it looks

    great! You measure 38D-22-36 now. I can just picture you - the OLD you

    - seeing a woman like this at Tush Street. You would have been all over

    yourself trying to stick your cock into her. But you aren't going to do

    THAT anymore; not to Jade, not to me, not to ANYONE! The simple truth

    is; you can't! When we made you a woman, we were VERY thorough; you

    have all the right `plumbing' as well."

    "You mean I..."

    "That's right, Sweetie! You have a nice, tight, juicy pussy, along with

    all your other womanly attributes. You have been on hormones for three

    months now, and you are rounding out nicely; not as angular as you were

    when we first operated on you. Your Adam's apple is shaved, and I just 

    LOVE your soft, musical voice! We have come up with a new feature for

    you which I am especially proud of. The special medication you will be

    taking, in conjunction with your cyclical hormone dosages, will give

    you a real, honest-to-goodness period! You will have sensitive breasts,

    cramps, discharge, and have to wear a tampon, just like a real woman!

    "But - but, I'm still me; I mean, I'm still Richard."              

Janice smiled wickedly, and evil glint in her eyes.

    "Not for long, Hon. Do you remember that first day in the clinic? I

    told you I would PERSONALLY see to it that you were psychologically

    prepared for your new role - and you are! You have been under an     

    intense program of hypnotherapy, during which I have fashioned your

    new identity and personality. You may have noticed that your body moves

    in an entirely different way now; very gracefully, very femininely. It 

    doesn't belong to you anymore, Richard; it is AMBER's body now, just

    waiting for her to `move in'. You would love Amber, Richard. She is

    just your type; very friendly, not too bright, flashy, trashy, adores

    flaunting her body for everyone to see, and loves to fuck! I am

    particularly pleased with that; every girl should enjoy her work."

    "You mean I'm..."

    "...a prostitute? Yes! The most talented I have ever seen; I have

    `trained' you on some of my male staff. You actually had sex with them 

    here in the clinic, but you will have many wonderful memories -

    implanted by me - of servicing them on the streets. You are a

    first-class `working girl' now, and your `office' will be Tush Street!

    I plan to stop in sometime to watch you `strut your stuff'.

    "But I don't feel any different. I don't remember any of those things."

    "At the moment, no. But I have set you up with a couple of

    post-hypnotic commands, which only work to the sound of MY voice. When

    I use one, `Richard' disappears and `Amber' takes over, with all of her

    memories and none of Richard's whatsoever. When I use the other,

    `Amber' goes sleepy-pie, and `Richard' comes back, but with memories of

    everything `Amber' has done. I can turn you on and off like a light! As

    Amber, you will be one of my `girls', and will come in every week for

    therapy, medication, etc. I will bring `Richard' out every once in a

    while to see how he is enjoying his new lifestyle. Oh, by the way;

    don't worry about being `missed' down at the Board of Trade. They won't

    be expecting you. While you were `under', I had you sign over to me a

    Power of Attorney. I sent them a letter, which you signed, stating that

    you were taking a sabbatical to find the `real you'; then, I rented out

    your seat. That will be a nice extra source of income; for me, not for

    you. You earn yours hustling - Sugar. So, are we all ready? Sleep

    tight, Richard. CHECK YOUR MAKE-UP, AMBER!

    Where am I? Oh. Giggle. I must have spaced out for a minute. Silly

Ditz! I'm in Dr. Foster's office for my weekly session. I flashed her my

most fetching smile.

    "Janice! How WONDERFUL it is to see you again! Am I late?"

She beamed at me and flashed me a wink.

    "Not at all, Amber. You are right on time. Come sit down, and we'll

     catch up on the latest gossip."

I slipped my arm through hers and let her lead me over to the couch. It 

seems as if my hips have a mind of their own; I walk as sexily for Janice

as I would for any trick. I wonder if she goes both ways? God, I'm getting

wet just THINKING about it! We reached the couch. I sat down, then lifted

my legs, slowly, teasingly, and swung them over and onto the padded

leather, allowing the hem of my dress to hike up several inches. I flashed

her my best innocent-little-girl smile. Was that a glimmer in her eye?

Giggle. I hope so; she's a real fox! I just wish she'd loosen up a little.




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