Garage Story Ch. 04

"I am a married woman with a penis. That makes me very different from you. I put a lot of effort into looking the part I play. I am glad you appreciate the way I look when I finish preparing myself. Some things that I do are private. I do not want you to watch me when I do things that are private, like sitting down on the toilet."

"OK, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I will give you the privacy you want."

"In that case, I accept. The first thing you have to do is make room for me and my things. I don't want to hear any complaints. I am a woman and I have my needs."

A questioning look crossed Herby's face. It looked as though he was questioning his suggestion that I move into the bedroom with him.

The master bedroom has what I at first thought was a king-size bed. Actually, it was two doubles side-by-side. We are two guys, no reason we can't sleep in adjoining beds. " I had a full walk-in closet to myself. We would need to share the bathroom.

It was obvious he had thought it all out. We would be two guys living together, sharing a bedroom. To the outside world, we were a married couple. Sex was never a part of our relationship.

I was thrilled. My imagination could never have conjured up such a relationship. Imagine, dressing as a woman and living as a couple with a man. Reality is stranger than fiction.

We began our lives together as a couple. I was always dressed to impress. It was important that I keep up the illusion. Dressing for bed and waking each morning was very different from having my own room. I still had to appear feminine when getting in or out of bed. To that end, I acquired sleeping bras that I put on and took off with our shared bathroom door closed. I found plus size padded underwear that gave my bottom shape and was not uncomfortable. This way, when Herby saw me getting in or out of bed, I looked feminine. There are many prosthetic feminine enhancements available that make sleeping comfortable.

Even so, Herby watched me dress and undress every day while wearing my enhancements. While he knew I wore enhancements, what he saw was a woman getting ready for the day or night. He got some thrill out of it. Maybe he enjoyed seeing me blush each morning.

Every evening, we played out another scene of a happy married couple getting ready for bed. It took me about half an hour to get ready. He was ready in two minutes. We got into our respective beds, each with a night lamp. Sometimes we read. Sometimes we watched TV. Herby kissed me tenderly on the lips every night before turning out the lights. Sometimes we talked late into the night in the darkness. I always knew how he felt.

I was confident enough to know that no one was going to recognize me as a guy. I had to be a little careful when trying on clothes in public places. After all, I did not have all the parts a woman should have.

** I had an Idea

An idea has been forming in my mind over the past few months. Wearing all the clothes and padding was a real hassle. In the heat, I sweated all the time, especially in the padded areas. Now I dress this way all the time. Why not do something to make it more comfortable?

"Well, Susan, I see no reason why not," said Dr. Mundo. "It'll take a little time, but you will develop in all the right places. Don't you want to have sex? It is something you should consider. "

"The truth is, I haven't had sex in about two years. Every so often, I relieve myself. That only takes a few moments. If I don't have the urge, it is probably something I won't miss. Besides, everything is reversible, right? "

"True."

Without telling Herby, I signed in to the clinic for small changes each time. They reduced my waist and removed fat. The same fat filled my chest. What Herby saw of me every night remained the same. I was a little more careful about dressing and undressing in front of him. Over time, I widened at the hips and my ass filled out due to low-dose estrogen treatments.

My body was more comfortable working as a secretary. I worked at an office far from where Herby works. No one knew of our relationship.

I was never sure what to expect. Herby was not a disappointment. He lived to be with me and see me happy. I never developed into a floozy type. I like to think I was a strong partner for Herby. We talked about everything. I gave my opinion on major business moves, before he made them. I felt that I was an asset to him.

Many of my male attitudes remained. We had passionate discussions and arguments. At no time did my not being a woman become part of the argument. Herby's attitude toward me became more protective. He was always on the lookout for something that might hurt me. Sometimes he stifled me. It showed how much he cared.

After moving into Herby's house, 18 months ago, I began wearing more revealing clothes. One day, Herby looked at me strangely.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have breasts. When we first met, I knew that you didn't have breasts. I watch you every night and every morning. Suddenly, it looks as though you have breasts." Herby made the statement and then sat looking at me. Standing to my side, he looked down at my bra as I lifted my arms to fix my hair. He stood open-mouthed as I walked away.

"How long have we been living together?" I said. "Now you notice it?"

Herby muttered to himself. "Actually, I've thought about it before. I thought it was my imagination. "

"Well, why didn't you ask?" I asked.

Silence.

"We are two guys living together. How can I ask you something like that? " Herby mumbled.

If you haven't noticed, we may be two guys living together, but I act, dress, and look like a woman. Anyway, it was downright uncomfortable wearing all that padding all the time. I've had several breast augmentations with fat grafting. Liposuction takes fat from other parts of my body to enhance my breasts, hips, and buttocks. I've had a few procedures, so my enhancements are gradual and incremental. I also take small amounts of estrogen to enhance various other parts of my body. It makes my life so much more comfortable. Even in the dressing rooms, I don't have to be careful if I am not with you."

He did not know what to say. He stared at me.

"I thought about saying something to you, but then decided against it. I know you are willing to buy me the most expensive and realistic prosthetics, but that was not for me. Since I've been living with you, I've felt more feminine by the day. I do everything to look authentic. But underneath it all, I am a phony. There was no exposed part of me that didn't say "Claude." Now, most of my exposed parts say, "Susan."

"Didn't you wonder how I would react?" Herby asked.

Yes, yes, you're a guy, and the thought of feminization is abhorrent to you. I understand that. I used to feel that way. I've spent so much time as Susan, that I don't feel that way anymore. I haven't felt that way for a long time. I understand that you'll start looking at me as something else. It is time in our relationship to move to the next stage. I am not talking about sex, but I am talking about another kind of intimacy. "

"I wish you had spoken to me before now."

"And what could, or would, you have said? You would have put so many doubts in my mind that I would not have done anything. This way, I take the burden off of you. "

"Still..." he began to say.

"Well, it's my body. I feel better this way," I said as I opened my blouse and bra. My small breasts fell out of their cups. They hung off my chest and jiggled.

We both stood there, frozen in place. His eyes were on my 36B boobs.

"They're real. Touch them," I said as I walked over to him. I took his hands and cupped my breasts in them.

He was still immobile as I took his face in my hands and shook him. "Say something!"

"You're more beautiful than before. But I hope you didn't do this for me. "

"I'm glad you like it. It would have been nicer if you said something before now. No, I didn't do it for you. Like I said, I did it for me."

I helped him feel my boobs. Soon, he began messaging my breasts on his own.

"Does this feel good?" he asked.

"Very much." I realized we might stay in that position for a long time if I didn't move. Taking his hand off me, I fitted my bra back on and closed my blouse.

Things were a little different for the first few days after that. Herby kept looking at me, wondering what other changes had taken place. He got his wish when we went swimming.

"This is it," I said. "This is all me. The only thing you don't see is what is between my legs. If you want, I'll show you that too. "

"Not necessary. I believe you. "

Herby took the cue the first time I offered it to him. Touching now includes caressing my boobs. As we sit in the living room watching TV, Herby places his arm around my neck. Then he slowly snakes his hand down to my breast and caresses me. It feels good, so I don't object. I also didn't realize how much they fascinated him.

Our morning ritual of dressing has now changed. Before, Herby casually watched me. He never saw me totally undressed. Now he insisted I only hide what was between my legs. Many times, while applying my makeup, he crept up behind me and massaged my boobs. I could feel his erection as he hugged me from behind.

At first, it was unnerving to have Herby watching my every move. He asked that I dress in front of him. It was especially important to him that I do so when we go out. Every move I made, made me aware of how feminine Herby saw me. Before long, Herby wanted to dress me. I agreed, but wondered why. Once I had my panties on with my secure strap in place, I let Herby dress me. My bra was the first item he wanted to put on me. I held my arms at my side and let him slide my arms through the straps. Pulling the bra up my chest, he closed the back clasps. Then he positioned the shoulder straps. Sliding each hand down, he lifted each breast to sit comfortably in the bra cup.

With me sitting on the side of the bed, he slid the pantyhose up my legs. With me standing, he pulled the panty section up and over my waist. Next, he wanted me to place my arms through the sleeves of the blouse. Then he closed the blouse at the back. I walked into the skirt opening he held for me. I felt the skirt tighten as he pulled the back zipper up and closed. Then, as I would have done, he patted the clothing down on my sides and back. While standing and holding on to him, he slipped each shoe onto my foot. It was odd that he wanted to do for me what I did every morning. Then, everything we did was odd.

On occasion, Herby was bolder. Holding the bikini bottom through the shower curtain, he asked me to step into it. With the bikini bottom on, Herby joined me under the water. Herby had a large and stiff erection as he soaped me. Then he did my hair. He stayed in the shower under the water as I left. He either needed the cold water or time to jack-off. My new enhancements gave me curves that are close to what a natural woman has. Herby had a significant erection on many occasions.

As Herby became more aware of my enhancements, he became more attentive. He touched me more than before. He was protective and concerned about my enhancement. He was concerned for my safety medically. He also expressed concern for my mental health.

Our relationship was loving, if not caring. If I moved too fast, my jiggling body parts caused him to question my comfort. He thought whiplash to body parts was a concern. When he wasn't showing concern, his hands were all over me. His hands pacified me, making me feel more feminine. Sometimes his attention was too much. There were times when I wanted to be left alone. Otherwise, I loved his hands on me.

On occasion, his head rested on my lap as we watched TV. Frequently, a hand would sneak under my blouse and under my bra. Before I reacted, he pulled my bra up and over my boobs. As they hung in the open in front of him, he would suck on one, then the other. His lips were warm and comforting until his sucking began hurting. He thought that with enough sucking and manipulation, I would begin to express milk.

Hormones had an unexpected effect on me over time. My skin felt softer. I had less muscle strength. Things I did before, without a thought, are now hard for me. My clothes fit me, but there are situations where the clothing rubs me the wrong way. After a while, my new body felt as though it was original. It was hard to remember my true origins. The biggest difference from the hormones was emotional. For no clear reason, I would start tearing. Herby was stymied. He tried everything to comfort me. I needed an outlet.

It took a while to settle down and calmly talk about my emotions. There was never anything fully rational about them, and I realized that. Even while crying, I knew it was illogical. I knew there was no real reason for it. I just couldn't help myself. Herby never let me down. He was always there for me.

"Emotions acting up again?" Herby asked.

"Yes," I responded, as I continued to cry. Sometimes I felt that the hormones produced a virtual period. Like what natural women go through.

He held me until my emotional crisis subsided.

Our life together never settled down. We were both anxious to get home in the evening. There was always something that needed to be done.

While Herby brought his work home, I still worked in the office of one of his companies. At home, I was the "homemaker" and his cute female mechanic, carpenter, and all around handyman. Correct that last statement to read "handy-woman." There was never any reference to Claude or what he was. I was always his woman. He was fascinated with my physique. He watched as various parts of me jiggled as I did something physical. Sometimes he jokingly made fun of me doing a man's work. His comments hardened my resolve to prove that a woman could do most of the same things a man did. We never spoke about the one thing a woman could do that I would never be able to do.

He laughed and then hugged me. To anyone not knowing our secret, we were lovers, all the time.

During the time since I moved in with Herby, I kept in contact with my mother. She wasn't surprised when I told her what I was doing. Each time I spoke to her, I emphasized that sex was not part of our relationship. I didn't want her to think I'd become something I was not. When Herby was nearby, while I spoke with my mother, she would often talk directly with him. As a result, he sent her pictures of the places we went and sometimes of the things we did.

Herby liked to take pictures of me in different places doing different things. Although I did not care much for his picture-taking, I appreciated the pictures when I got to see them later. While many of the pictures were of me, there were quite a few of the two of us, together. Looking at pictures of myself reinforced my perception of myself as a woman. At times, Herby went crazy with the camera, taking many pictures of the same event. A few of those pictures caught me at odd moments, unaware.

Some of those odd moments and unaware pictures made their way to my mother. I didn't realize at the time why she began asking me unusual questions. When she began questioning certain angles, I wanted to know why. She pointed at certain angles where it looked as though I had breasts, I became very quiet.

"Did Herby make you do this?" My mother asked me.

"Do what?" I responded,

"Get a boob job! You have breasts! From the pictures, it looks as though they are getting bigger. Is Herby pressuring you to do this?"

"No mom. Herby only recently found out that I was doing it all on my own."

"Why would you do this? Your father would have a heart attack if he knew. I am on the verge of a heart attack myself. How could you do this to us? How could you do this to yourself? How far are you going to go? What happens if you break up with Herby? He may be comforting now, but what will it be later? "

"Mom, you're taking this all out of proportion. I did this for myself. I like that people think I am a woman, and treat me as one. Herb was as surprised as you are. I've had the changes made incrementally over months. This way, no one will notice any big changes. Why did I do it? Simply put, comfort. I enjoy being a woman. I never enjoyed the discomfort of wearing prosthetics. I worried all the time that I would be discovered. This way, I am more comfortable and more secure around people. Please be happy for me, even if you don't understand. I am at peace with what I am doing."

"Oh Claude, err Susan, I am happy for you. I just think that what makes you happy today, may not keep you happy tomorrow. When will I see you again? "

"I don't know, mom. A lot is going on in our lives right now. I guess I should write and tell you more about our lives. Barring any unforeseen sickness or other crisis, we are doing well. I love you, mom. Look for my letter in about a week or two."

That went better than I expected. I guess her visit, in a way, prepared her for this.

** Getting along at Herby's company ITEK2U

Herby worked at his company's headquarters. I worked at a satellite location. Herby never advertised his ownership of the company. Few people knew that he controlled a majority of the stock. We called each other several times during the day. It became our new normal. Coworkers accepted that we had a relationship. When one of us called the other, we were immediately put through.

ITEK2U celebrated milestones with YrCoworker social gatherings. Spouses and/or other significant others were encouraged to attend. Herby promoted these events under the guise of getting to know your coworkers. It encouraged casual chats between coworkers and their spouses. To maintain a light atmosphere, there was an open bar, music, and dancing.. Managers were encouraged to circulate and meet others from different departments.

Herby wanted me to go with him to the ITEK2U YrCoworker party. Until then, I only interacted with a few people at a time. Herby was known as a quirky and lonesome nerd who did something in upper management. With me by his side, I would be a curiosity.

Herby encouraged me to dress up and feel secure in my femininity. He wanted me to look attractive, but not slutty, or too sexy. By the time of our first YrCoworker party, my body had morphed enough that I needn't worry about exposure. Herby made me go to a beauty parlor "for the works". I looked at myself in the mirror at home afterwards, as I dressed, I didn't recognize myself. I was always slim. With the right makeup, I looked cute. My dress covered my knees when standing. My heels made my legs look long. Between my makeup, jewelry, chest and long legs, no man would question my gender. Still, there is always that niggling thought that I might do something to give myself away.

I held onto Herby's arm as we entered the hall. Several people said hello to Herby, and, by extension, to me. Our invitation included a table to sit at. Herby helped me off with my coat, and then hung both coats. We walked to our table as several people acknowledged us. Herby did not know any of the people at the table, so we made introductions.

Herby was surprised that there were so many people he had never heard of. While he was getting better acquainted with them, the wives wanted to know about me. Herby's name was unusual enough that people did not forget it. They knew or heard that Herby, the nerd, was not in a relationship. I may not have been model quality, but I was attractive. Passing men looked at my chest or legs. My ass hadn't developed enough to be interesting.

I was having a good time talking with the wives at the table. A few men, I later learned, were in upper management, and they began circulating among the tables. They encouraged people to mingle, first by enjoying the music and then by dancing. Herby and a man at our table went to get us drinks, to "loosen us up." By the time half my drink was finished, I was ready to dance with Herby.