Valentine, Be Mine Ch. 02

"We might be able to plead extenuating circumstances, given the gravity of the result of her actions. We can also plead your lack of consent for her 'treatment' beyond the hypnotherapy. Joanna would have to produce documents or some other proof that you authorized it. Do you remember signing either consent for surgery or assigning her power of medical attorney?"

I cringed at the thought.

"Not consciously," I responded gloomily, "but I probably didn't read the consent for hypnosis as thoroughly as I should have. I mean, she was my wife; of course I trusted her. She might have snuck something into the fine print. Also, who knows what she had me sign while I was under hypnosis?"

"Actually, we do," Helen asserted, "or will. The recordings themselves will tell us that."

"Maybe not," I replied ruefully. "I dropped the stack of disks while I was in Joanna's office. When I was reviewing them later, I discovered one is missing."

"We will deal with that when and if the need arises," Helen asserted. "That you, the patient, give us permission to use the recordings may also work in our favor – or against us, depending on the existence of those other documents. Still, we have to be prepared for the likelihood the disks will be thrown out during Discovery.

"Without them, or any other evidence, it becomes a case of 'he said, she said' as to what agreement existed between you and Joanna about your case. She still may face punitive action from the A.P.A and/or state review boards, but that is administrative, not criminal. Pending that, she can defend herself in court by arguing your 'diminished capacity', hiding behind her professional credentials. I don't think I need tell you how much weight her testimony will carry before any judge or jury. She would likely expedite the divorce proceedings for exactly that reason. She could even turn it around and argue the divorce is your fault. Let's face it, Bobby; in the eyes of Society, this is not exactly normal behavior for a man."

I hid my face in my hands and shook my head.

"Who are you telling?" I sighed.

"There are a couple of ways we can proceed," Helen continued. "First, we find independent corroboration; something or someone who can attest to the content of the disks without relying on the disks themselves."

"Well," I observed, "there is this 'Jake' guy, of course - and Joyce."

"Joyce?" Helen inquired.

"Joanna's secretary," I replied. "As far as I know, she was never in the inner office during our sessions."

"What about notes?" Helen prompted.

My face brightened.

"Joanna records her notes on her laptop," I declared. "They have been here all the time. All I have to do is sign on as Administrator, change her password, and we will have access to them."

Helen shook her head.

"Same problem," she dismissed. "You obtained the computer fraudulently, at the same time as the disks. It will be thrown out, too."

"But if she had Joyce transcribe her notes…." I offered.

For the first time that afternoon, Helen smiled.

"I'm beginning to like this 'Joyce' as a potential witness," she murmured, "hostile or otherwise. I'll have my investigator look into her and see what we can dig up. If we can prove the existence of transcribed notes, we can subpoena them and use them as corroboration. Also, if we have the notes of the missing session, we may at least have a heads-up on what she might throw at us from it."

"There might be something else we can do with the information we already have," I suggested. "The notes might offer names of colleagues or other people she involved in my transformation. My surgeries didn't happen by themselves and Joanna certainly wouldn't attempt to perform them. She had to involve somebody."

Helen beamed and took my hand in hers.

"You really should consider going to law school," she gushed. "That is brilliant! There will be a record of your procedures somewhere, even if she tried to keep it under the table. We'll use the recordings to establish a timeline of everything that was done to you. Then, all we have to do is dig deeply enough. If we can uncover even one name we can link directly to one or more of your procedures, we can leverage him – or her – with the threat of prosecution. We are not completely without resources in this fight; it's just going to be a struggle."

"Speaking of resources," I voiced delicately. "I'm sure you realize Joanna has all the money in our relationship. I don't even have my career anymore, because of all this. She has me working for an adult video company. I know how that is going to look to a judge and jury, on top of everything else. I don't expect you to take my case pro bono, but it might be a while before…"

"Let's not even discuss that right now," Helen interrupted, patting my hand. Bobby, I went to law school to right what I perceived to be a terrible wrong; some horrendous abuses women have suffered at the hands of men and, by extension, at the hands of the law. I've done some good along the way and put some real monsters behind bars, where they belong. I feel good about that.

"I have also participated in what can only be described as exercises in spite and malice, waged by spoiled, whiny, egotistical brats who ought to know better. That isn't what I got into law for. I don't have to agree with it. I certainly don't have to like it. I just have to fight for my client; that's my job. I win a lot more often than I lose. I feel good about that, even when I can't feel good about who or what I'm fighting for.

"You have been abused in a way I can't even conceive. It would be one thing if Joanna had done this because it was something you both wanted and agreed to. If that had been the case, I would be very happy for both of you and wish you all future happiness. But for her to do this to you without your permission, in such a way that you weren't even aware it had been done…. Bobby, this is exactly why I wanted to practice law in the first place. It will be gratifying to feel good about what I do for the right reasons again."

The attorney gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment.

"Bobby," she spoke quietly. "What do you want from all of this?"

I sat, stunned.

"I hadn't really thought that far," I confirmed. "I want… something. I'm not really sure."

"Do you want to go back?" she asked point-blank.

"To Joanna?" I asked incredulously.

"No," she responded, "to you; the way you were before all this."

I looked down at myself, then at her, blankly.

"The reason I asked," Helen continued, "is to prepare you for a couple of possibilities. There is a big difference between what we know – what is obvious to anyone who looks at you – and what we can prove 'beyond a reasonable doubt' in a court of law. Based on the evidence we currently have, we may not be able to get a criminal conviction. Absent that, one possible scenario is, we file a civil action where the standards of evidence are less restrictive. We may get her to agree to change you back as part of a settlement, although the overall settlement might be far less than you deserve. Again, the issue turns on admissibility of the disks and/or outside corraboration. One other possible scenario is, you will get nothing more than the money you have already transferred from your joint accounts. If she chooses to go 'scorched earth', she may even demand that back."

I just stared at the coffee table.

"As your attorney," she continued, "I need to point something out. I have been involved in a few transgender cases before. Usually, it was an issue of basic rights; the right to have a job, a home, a life or freedom from harassment. Once, I represented the family of a T-girl who was murdered for being 'queer'. All of that was an uphill battle, fighting societal prejudice against transgenders. I have never represented anyone who didn't know she was transitioning, and had to prove she didn't know. I don't know if a precedent even exists. The odds of winning anything for you in court are slim."

"She?" I repeated guardedly.

Helen took my hand and clasped it between both of hers.

"Yes, Bobby; she. I think we both better get used to that idea – for now, anyway. We can hardly deny it, can we? As your friend, there is one possible scenario I didn't mention. As an officer of the court, I can have no part in it. The disks can be used in another way. If you were to threaten to go public, either through the media or the Internet, she would have to settle – equitably – to protect her professional reputation. These disks could so poison the waters against her, her practice would evaporate overnight, not to mention what the review boards would do to her. It may not be the most satisfying justice, but it may be the best we can obtain."

"Blackmail," I stated flatly.

"In so many words," she confirmed. "I can't even begin to tell you what your life would be like if you went public."

I nodded slowly, seeing the wisdom of that observation.

"Let me also say this, as your friend," she added. "Even if we did secure the funds to change you back as part of a settlement, there is no guarantee you would get there; not to where you were. The hair and nails would be easy enough to fix; the face, less so. A plastic surgeon could remove the implants, even the underlying breast tissue, but I don't know how masculine your physique could be made. Please don't be upset when I tell you; you never were Mr. Olympia, you know? If your chemical castration has become profound, you may regain limited male function at best – or none at all. Again, I am not an expert, but the odds of you fathering a child at this point are functionally non-existent."

"I never really planned on offering stud service," I noted bravely.

Helen gazed at me intently.

"Then let me say this," she continued softly. "Win, lose, or draw, whatever settlement we obtain, you may want to consider staying as you are, or even… moving on."

My eyes widened. She held up one hand momentarily to silence my objections, then returned it to holding mine.

"As I mentioned," she reminded, "you were never the most masculine of men. In fact, you were really pretty. That is not a put-down; some women like that in a man. Now, like this…"

She hesitated a moment, either trying to summon the right words or the resolve to utter them.

"… you are beautiful, exquisite. A legion of women would kill to have what you have now. I can only imagine how this messes with your identity, your sense of self. I am not even going to ask how it has changed your sexuality. The point is, all of that can be dealt with."

"So," I summed flippantly, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it?"

Helen smiled wanly.

"Something like that."

"Some women like this?" I inquired, seeking reassurance, if nothing else. Helen's eyes sparkled.

"Trust me," she purred.

I've heard that before…