A Gift in Disguise Ch. 18

Jamie, I don't know when you plan to talk with Melissa, but after you've spoken to her, will you please call me and let me know what she says about your wanting to expand Tom's and Kim's research? Just call on my cell phone. I don't think there'll be any problem at the FBI or DoD. If anyone is going to object, it'll probably be the University."

"Of course," Jamie answered agreeably. "But candidly, I don't think either the University or the hospital is going to have any serious objections given the progress our 765 team has made already. Maybe a few tweaks here and there to ensure Tom maintains acceptable progress on his doctoral research and there's no increased legal liability for them."

The day had warmed up a bit. The rain had stopped, but the humidity had to have been in the high nineties. Walking back toward my car, I removed my jacket and Robyn removed her blazer. Fortunately, no one else could see.

When she pulled the blazer off, I saw instantly that Robyn's blouse had become considerably even more semi-see-through than at first. The high humidity had erased its suggestive but modest translucency and markedly increased its transparency. As an added bonus for me, it was clinging to her even tighter because of her body's dampness. She noticed my increased interest.

"Easy, mister," she said with exaggerated fake sternness.

"Hey, you're the one who's showing off," I responded with a smile. "And you've definitely got a lot to show off," I continued while at the same time reaching up with my right hand and giving her left nipple a few quick flicks and rubs with my fingertip. The filmy and now-damp bra beneath her blouse did little to conceal the pointiness of Robyn's nipples during her arousal.

"Tom! Stop it!" she squealed softly but not convincingly while glancing quickly back at the lab. "Someone might see ..."

"Why do I get the idea you'd actually like that?" I offered more suggestively than humorously.

Robyn's face turned quite red, but she didn't disagree. I had obviously hit close to the truth.

"Just not here!" she said with a very unmilitary girlish giggle.

Once we were back in my car and headed back to the motel, Robyn steered the conversation back to the meeting.

"That was absolutely fabulous!" she gushed. "I wish all of my contacts were as well-organized and adaptable as this group."

"Do you think your bosses are going to start putting pressure on us to test soon on the first male subject?"

"Good question, Tom, but no, I don't. Now, don't get me wrong. The brass and braids would love to see me walk in with a finished product when I get back there, but they also know that a premature disastrous failure of a project this personal to each and every patient would be blown up all out of proportion. Some of them would end up testifying in front of Congress in very big, very public, very politicized, and probably very career-ending hearings.

No, their emphasis is exactly the same as ours: Get it as right as we can before we try it on the first real live male victim-patient. None of them - or us - wants to build up even one troop's hope that he may be able to have normal sexual relations again, only to dash it with an avoidable failure."

Robyn's response had reassured me, so I changed the subject back to an earlier discussion we'd had on the way to the meeting.

"I wonder, Robyn. After wearing their phalluses and masturbating with them and having partner sex with them, both Lorraine and Kim experienced what they described as feelings of increased masculinization even after the phallus had been removed.

Yet with you, you mentioned that using the phallus also seemed to intensify your own femininity."

"That was very diplomatically put, Tom. You and I have discussed before that I'm already more manly than a lot of men. If I were to go full-on lez, I'd be more butch than femme. You've seen that yourself, and I'm still amazed and very grateful at how accommodating you are with my masculine sexual aggression. Our near-role reversal is a huge turn-on for me. You too, I suspect. It amazes me that even while you're driving me insane with your undisputed masculinity you are at the same time displaying the same feminine sexual skills and pleasures I like in my women partners.

Still, like I said before, even though my new cock intensified my masculinity, it has definitely made me feel more girly, too. Believe me, I like the totally new sensations the phallus is letting me experience. I have a feeling that any woman who ever wears the phallus as a sex toy is going to experience many of the same sensations as well as some new ones of her own. I'm sure that side of it will be of great interest to Lorraine.

Now as for the men who will be fitted with it for its therapeutic value? Well, I don't know if their sexual sensations will be the same as before they needed the phallus. Being a woman, I don't know how what I feel when I have sex compares to what a man feels."

"What exactly do you mean?" I asked with real interest. Robyn's seriousness and precise speech suggested she had given this a great deal of critical thought.

"It's really pretty simple, Tom, though the phallus's design and construction are complex. Maybe the best way to explain it is to compare a real penis to a strap-on or manual dildo and then to the phallus.

You're a sexually healthy and active young man. When you begin to become sexually aroused ..."

"Like now?" I interrupted. Robyn barely acknowledged my remark with so much as a sideways glance. Note to self: Shut up and listen.

"Like I started to explain," she said with exaggerated evenness, "When you begin to become aroused, the effect begins in your brain, not in your dick. Your first conscious awareness of increasing arousal may be that you begin to feel the various sensations associated with your beginning erection. You feel penile warmth and preliminary hardness associated with your brain telling your vascular system to engorge your penis with blood to facilitate penetration. Your tactile nerves in your penile skin and tissue tell your brain that's a good feeling. Your brain produces more chemicals that enhance the tactile sensations as well as intensify the hardening of your erection for insertion and the preparation of your testes for ejaculation during orgasm.

Thankfully, you don't think of these various steps in the way I just described them. They happen pretty much automatically and under the careful control and balance of your brain. You simplify them to, 'I'm horny and want to fuck!'

Now consider a woman who's wearing a sex store strap-on or using a manual dildo. No matter how well-designed, carefully crafted and colored, and realistically textured and sized the dildo is, it's still nothing more than a piece of molded elastomer. Even if you add a small motor and eccentric cam for penile rotation or vibration, it's still a glorified piece of molded plastic. Its physical properties don't really change. Its ability to impart pleasure is severely limited, because it can't receive and process any cues from the recipient. Only a skilled wearer or user can apply a range of motions and touch sexual hot spots with it that the recipient associates to some extent with realistic sex. Even then, realism is mostly in the imagination of the recipient. Even the most realistic looking and feeling strap-on or manual dildo is still just a piece of plastic."

Robyn paused. I wasn't sure she was looking for any comment from me, and since she seemed to be on a roll, I kept quiet. She continued with increasing excitement.

"But the prosthetic phallus ... It's light-years ahead of plastic sex toys. And if we're able to make the two-stage version work the way we hope it will, it may prove to be a far closer second to a penile transplant than any of us could ever have hoped. In fact, it may prove to be an even better long-term choice than a transplant for some patients!

What you and Jamie have been able to build and test in a relatively short time makes today's dildos and strap-ons look like the stone cars in a Flintstones cartoon. Yours functions! It works more closely to a real penis than we had imagined until we saw it. And felt it! It sends and receives sensory sexual communications to and from the wearer's brain, and it responds by generating sexual feelings in the wearer.

I'm a woman, Tom, but I have to think that if I were a man receiving the phallus, I'd be thrilled beyond belief at how realistic it feels and behaves. And as a woman wearing it, it's giving me exciting sensations I've never experienced. Even when I'm not wearing it - like now - its residual effect makes me wet. It makes me want to do and say things I'd never seriously considered before. I can't begin to even describe the changes I've felt and the experiences I want to have. Your giving me an anal orgasm is just one of them."

The tone of her voice changed now. It became much more seductive in a way that seemed to combine both her masculine and her feminine sexual traits.

"I think you are in a better position than I to judge if you see any changes prompted by the phallus testing. Or at least you will be since we're almost to my motel. You'll be able to come in and decide for yourself," she said, making it crystal-clear that her mind had completely transitioned from business meeting to sexual satisfaction.

Several times during the rest of our drive Robyn unashamedly lowered her eyes to the persistent erection tent that had formed under my slacks. When I finally called her out on it, she only smiled wryly, then reached across and began massaging my hardening dick all the way to the motel. Fortunately, her skilled fingers sensed when to stop just before driving me over the edge.

As we pulled into a parking spot near her motel room door and came to a stop, Robyn said, "Don't forget your condoms and lube." After retrieving her blazer and the bag Amanda had given her, she quickly bailed out of my car and hurriedly unlocked the door to her room. I reached into the back seat and pulled my condom and lube case out from under a blanket there. By the time I got out of the car, she had her room door opened and was standing just inside the doorway waiting. She had already stripped off her blazer and tossed it over a chair.

She must have recognized the condom and lube zipper case must have lifted her to her next level of sexual excitement.

In what would have looked almost like a cartoon to someone watching me approach her motel room door, she thrust her arm out and grabbed my wrist. She practically jerked me off my feet when she pulled me urgently into the room causing our bodies to slam together.

"Oh, baby!" she growled huskily. "I've been needing this for so long," she moaned as she ground her pussy against my hardness beneath my trousers. Her voice revealed her sexual desperation. The deep, long, tongue-probe kiss she planted on me punctuated it convincingly.

Our next few minutes of deep kissing, groping, rubbing, and every other contact and contortion our bodies could contrive worked both of us into an even higher frenzy.

Robyn finally pushed me away. Her strength was so forceful, I wondered what was happening.

"Strip! Hurry up so you can help me with mine!" she commanded.

"Yes, sir!" I barked, adding emphasis to the "sir."

Her eyes burned into me like the lust-fueled torches they become when she's aroused.

I awkwardly struggled to hurriedly remove and neatly stack my clothes on the motel room's dresser.

Once completely nude, I turned back to her. She was standing a few feet away. In the privacy of her room and with plenty of time to appreciate the view, I observed that without the rather bulky coverup blazer, her previously somewhat stocky, muscular body had now been enticingly toned up and slimmed down very precisely and selectively in just the right places. In Robyn's new look I recognized the transformational fountain of youth effect I had begun to see in both Lorraine and Kim after having sex just a few times with each of them.

In Robyn's case, her body shape had become subtly but definitely noticeably more woman-like. Her mannerisms, her behaviors, her speech patterns, and her own sexual aura, however, seemed to have completely retained their decidedly masculine tendencies. So did her physical strength.

Rather than confusing me, Robyn's sexual dichotomy, her new outward physical presentation of femininity coupled with her persistent masculine behaviors, traits, and voice, was exciting me even more. I sensed I was about to experience the best of both Major Robyn Broadsword's sexual personae.

Though I was fully nude, she was still fully clothed, minus the blazer. Nevertheless, the pose she had struck displayed her more feminine- and more youthful-looking body to its best advantage.

"Unzip me, baby," she said as she turned her back to present the rear zipper on her skirt to me. Though her voice was commanding, it was also suggestively encouraging. I obeyed eagerly.

I fumbled with the fastener and zipper but finally released it. She quickly and smoothly stepped out of it and draped it over a chair back. With her back still toward me, she began unbuttoning her blouse as she turned back toward me. Just as she was facing me full on, she undid the last button and peeled away the damp, clingy blouse.

My eyes had been focused toward her lower body, but her sweeping the blouse away and tossing it aside caused me to look up before her turn toward me had been completed. She was wearing a black, ultra-sheer unlined bra and panty set and black hold-up stockings with no garter belt. Never had I seen Robyn in such feminine lingerie, and the new view was breathtaking as well as cock-hardening.

Her eyes were locked on my now fully engorged cock. I made no effort to conceal the diamond cutter her look had generated between my legs. Truth be told, I sought to display it to her as proudly as she displayed her newfound womanliness to me.

Not only the shapes but also the colors and contrasts of her nipples and areolae were clearly visible through the bra panels. Her nipples left no doubt as to her own state of arousal, but my attention was rapidly drawn to the intentionally skimpy panties which encouraged enticing and generous tufts of black hair to protrude over the waistband and through the leg openings' edges. In many ways, her own display of her pubic hair proudly emphasized her own sexuality as much as I hoped the hardness, redness, and slight bobbing of my cock did mine.

Just as Robyn had said, the hair restorative had shifted into high-speed overdrive after her last phallus adjustment at Jamie's lab. Her resulting intense hairiness on her inner thighs and lower abdomen cascading down like a black Niagara Falls around her slit and engorged outer lips would have put off many men, but it only excited me even more.

Before I could move toward her, she was on her knees in front of me, using her tongue, lips, and fingers to attack my rod as if it were an eight-inch ice cream cone. The power of her finally taking it fully into her mouth, working her lips around and over it, and skillfully sucking on it made my knees weaken. I was able to remain standing only because she had forcefully pushed me against the wall and pinned me there with her deceptively strong arms. Her penchant for dominating me sexually had certainly not been diminished by the effects of the phallus. If anything, it was even greater than before. My moans of pleasure filled the room shamelessly.

"Stop! Stop, or I'm gonna cum!" I finally cried much louder than I probably should. She could not have helped but hear the desperation in my voice.

In a move guaranteed to nudge me to the very edge of orgasm, tightened her lips around my erection and slowly, slowly, slowly slid her mouth up the shaft and off the tip. Then Robyn kissed her way up my body, making sure to rub her hairy pussy and legs and hard tits against me at every opportunity while her lips and teeth inflicted sensuous pleasure bordering on pain wherever she could plant them.

Every one of my moans, whimpers of pleasure, and feeble attempts to resist was met with intensified grinds and thrusts and rubs as well as aurally exciting words and sexual sounds from the sexy hairy Army officer assaulting me relentlessly. The bra, brief, and stocking materials she still wore amplified rather than attenuated my sexual excitement.

In one particularly intense sexual cloud engulfing me, I became a disembodied spirit briefly watching Robyn seemingly ravage a woman. In that moment, I realized the woman Robyn was sexually tuning up was in fact the feminine me that Mikki and Geri had captured in their art. The image disappeared quickly, though, maybe driven away by the sensations of Robyn's insatiable attacks on the real me, the masculine me.

Robyn's own strength seemed to be sapping mine from me, and she was reveling in her domination and control over me.

With her hands and body sending sensuous signals through me, she brought her mouth close to my ear and said, "You like what I'm doing to you, baby? You want mommy to keep making her little sissy boy feel good?"

When I didn't answer verbally, mainly because I could barely catch my breath to speak, she spoke again, this time louder and more forcefully.

"Well? Do you?

Don't you want to suck on mommy's titties? Don't you want to feel up mommy's hairy mound?"

Finally I worked up the strength to answer.

"Yes, mommy."

" 'Yes, mommy' what? Tell me what you want to do to me to make me feel good."

"I want to suck your nipples until you beg for my boy-cock to fuck you, mommy. I want to finger your clit and cunt and pull your pussy hair until you scream for me to stop, mommy! I want to put my boy clitty in your ass and make you hurt so good you cum screaming hard and begging me to stop."

I had used language in a gritty, lewd voice I had never used with anyone before. Robyn's response completely revealed the effect it had on her, an effect she was clearly and unashamedly enjoying and using to its fullest to excite me even more. It was almost as if both of us were role-playing, but instead of acting out someone else, we were acting the way we would behave in our fantasies. But this was no fantasy.

"Then unfasten my bra!" she ordered, turning her back toward me. "Please?" she added with a deference that was so out of character, I struggled to avoid literally ripping the remaining sheer clothing from her.

I complied. She held the loose bra in place until she turned back toward me. In the same fluid motion she cast the bra aside onto the chair.

Though the bra panels had been nearly transparent, their blackness had hidden the several dark hairs growing around her areolae. Now I could see them clearly, and my eyes remained locked on them.

"You like mommmy's man-hair around my tits, don't you" she said seductively but with noticeable pride.

I reached up to touch it with my fingertips, but before I could, she slapped my hand away. It was a hard slap with just enough sting to remind me of her sexual superiority.

"Use your lips and tongue," she commanded. "Hurt me good you little sissy, but don't you dare make mommy cum just yet!"

Robyn was almost yelling now, perhaps excited by my expression and my looking around that I was concerned others might hear.

She laughed out loud. It was the defiant laugh of a woman being driven wild by sexual freedom, her certainty that I would eagerly fulfill any sexual whim she might have.

"Is my little sissy boy afraid someone might hear us?"

When I didn't answer immediately, she fairly screamed, "Well, are you!? Because when you start fucking my ass, I'm going to get a lot louder. They don't fucking care! Why do you think I stay here when you're going to be fucking me? I want them to hear us! I want them to hear how much I enjoy what my sissy-boy's man-cock does to me!" Her eyes flamed at me wildly, lustfully.