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.