Ilka's Place Pt. 09

The day came for our little expedition to the women's bar in the nearby city.

By this time I'd introduced Maryanne to Janice, and she was delighted that Janice agreed to do a super-duper makeup job on me.

As the day arrived, all I could think about while getting Ilka ready for work and fixing rusty faucets was my nighttime litmus test for going out in public as Bridget. When I told Maryanne what women's clothing I had at Ilka's, she (and Janice) decided none of it would be appropriate for Jesse's bar. So, Janice and Maryanne had a confab, and after she wrote down all my sizes, Maryanne took it upon herself to buy my coming-out outfit. So I was VERY excited about she what she and Janice had selected.

After bidding goodbye to Ilka after dinner and promising to introduce Maryanne to her soon, I gingerly made my way over to my girlfriend's. Janice had already arrived.

"Yay! It's metamorphosis time," announced Maryanne, as Janice (in her female incarnation) smiled mildly. I gave my favorite ex-nun a quick peck on the cheek.

"This will be fun," observed Janice rationally.

They both accompanied me into Maryanne's bedroom, the very same place where M and I had cavorted in our nighties two weeks before.

"Here's the deal, Bridge," said Maryanne, as she pulled a clothing item from several laid on her bed. She held up a slinky sleeveless tank top (of a sexy silvery gray color) against my chest. To go over that they'd chosen a loose, dark, open-front cardigan.

Then Maryanne showed me the distressed levis that I would wear to accompany the previous items.

"We settled on an edgy look," admitted Janice. "Oh, and the panty girdle is padded to give you some curves down there."

The dress-up began when I disrobed and stepped into my own bra and panties from Ilka's.

As I sat in a chair, Janice labored lovingly to help turn me into a passable wench. I was glancing in Maryanne's mirror all the time, watching my sexy transformation. Maryanne, meanwhile, plied us with wine and then dressed herself, also in faded jeans, but with a Grecian-themed tunic top that looked just great, accenting her boobs.

When Janice finished, with a long sigh, and I donned the remainder of my clothing, she seemed very excited for me. "God, Bridget, I can't wait to hear about your little adventure tonight. Promise to text me afterwards?"

"I'll try, dear. Maybe I'll send a photo."

To place a strawberry on top the whipped cream, Maryanne styled my now-longer hair into a cute bob by carefully snipping away some strands. Janice sealed the 'do with just a touch of hairspray.

With that, Janice remembered to take a photo of Maryanne and me just before we left. My crossdressing friend seemed a little sad that she wasn't going too, so I resolved invite her to a bar or restaurant threesome down the road.

Walking out of Maryanne's place as Bridget was a first for me. In the hallway, we passed two people I'd done work for, and they didn't seem to recognize me. I loved walking like a woman, and I thoroughly loved the feeling of my bra and faux breasts, and enjoying how they sexily pushed out my top and cardigan. Down below, my tight panty girdle not only hid my man clit, but provided me with convincing hips and a derriere. I smacked my lips lightly to remind me I was wearing lipstick.

I felt truly sexy next to my girlfriend, and she was thoroughly enjoying what I was enjoying .....

Jesse's bar was tucked away in the light industrial part of our next-door city. I'd never been in a gay or lesbian bar before, so I was both intrigued and frankly a bit scared as we parked amid four or five other cars. We made our way toward an entrance framed by intertwined vines with a couple of Christmas tree ornaments whimsically attached.

I let Maryanne take the lead. I felt like her niece or something. Inside, I took in in the darkish interior, the long bar, and the traditional bottles of liquor stacked against a broad mirror. Instead of a butch bartender I'd fantasized about, the server was a slim woman with long hair, a long dress, and a spiked collar. She welcomed us with a sly smile as we cozied onto bar seats and ordered some gin on the rocks. Our barkeep convinced us to try some Tanqueray Rangpur Gin. Its citrusy flavor won us over immediately, and Maryanne and I clinked glasses. As the liquor slid down my throat from a second shot, I soon began to relax.

Maryanne engaged the woman easily while I watched from the sidelines. We learned that the bar didn't really come alive until about 11, and it was only 9.

As they chatted on, I scanned the rest of the bar. Down the bar was a lesbian couple and further down, a single woman. Out on the floor, a couple danced cheek to cheek to some song by the Dixie Chicks, and two tables were occupied by three or four women each. I was now in all-woman territory!

Maryanne had chosen wisely to outfit me in faded levis, because urban casual was definitely the style here. I began to worry that my makeup might make me stand out, but again, as I drank a third round of gin, I no longer cared much if I fit in or not. In fact, I began to feel thoroughly female -- that my breasts were genuine, my hands and arms were those of a woman, and so on. It's hard to explain, but my mind switched over to a female mode. For the first time, I was totally ..... Bridget.

Eventually, Maryanne led me out onto the floor to dance, and that's when some of the bar's denizens took notice of us. She led, and because she was taller than me, I pretended she was my dominant while I was her totally polite, femme girlfriend.

For whatever reason, Maryanne loved going with that role. She smiled because she knew exactly where I was coming from, and I smiled back because I knew exactly where she was coming from.

Eventually, we grabbed a couple more drinks and made our way to a table. As it grew later, the barkeep's prediction came true as more and more women dropped in. Some were quite fetching, sexy and outgoing (and yes, some wore makeup), while others were rather plain. One leather-clad motorcycle couple came in and made themselves at home.

Maryanne and I chatted about returning some time, because we were feeling so comfortable. We'd switched to Diet Cokes because we didn't want to fall over on the floor.

Then the unexpected happened. A couple came in before midnight, and Maryanne lit up immediately, rushing over to greet them. After some big hugs, I head one of them say, distantly, something about "sisters." Leading them over to our table and me, Maryanne introduced them as Sharon and Clarice, formerly from her old order, the Sisters of Beneficence.

"Oh, so that explains everything!" I said in my best imitation of a female voice.

Sharon was tall, quiet and dressing rather male-ish, and was older than Clarice, who was pudgy and sweet and feminine, wearing owlish glasses.

"Oh, my gosh," said Maryanne, "who'd'a'thought I'd see you here!"

Nodding toward me, Maryanne explained that Sharon and Clarice had left the convent before she did after they fell in love, and that she had only seen them once since they left.

"It's been way too long, dears," said Maryanne.

"Way too long," said Clarice, the more talkative of the two. "Please tell us more about you two -- we've never seen you here before. Where have you all been hiding?"

Maryanne first launched into her work at the university, and then encouraged me to tell how we met, urging me to tell the whole honest story. Which I did, hoping they wouldn't be grossed out. I emphasized my finding that I liked being a girl more than a boy, and I wanted to eventually live the female life fully. I said I hoped I passed well enough to fit in, in a place like Jesse's.

"Oh, Bridget," said the usually taciturn Sharon, "you had me convinced at first. Then there were just a few little things, like your deeper voice, and a few mannerisms. But heck, we'll welcome you into the woman's world, no problem. Anyone who Maryanne wants to be with, well, we'll accept you in whatever role works. Period!"

Clarice added, "We christen you Bridget, forever Bridget."

I reached over to hold their hands. They really seemed like wonderful people. As a man, I never would've made that gesture, but now it seemed so natural and warm. Again, I was feeling the feminine in me rising to the surface and making new avenues possible.

When Maryanne and I finally tired, and left at around 1 a.m., we said goodbye to her former nun-mates and drove back home in the dark. We held hands for a while, sharing a great mood. Halfway home she pulled into a strange parking lot, and kissed me passionately.

"I wanted to do that all night," she said. "But I didn't want to come on too strong."

I kissed back passionately, and my hand began caressing her breast. Her hand, meanwhile, snuck down to my girdle. Unfortunately, it prevented her getting very close to my hidden boi clit.

As she drove away again, she whispered huskily, "To be continued, yes?"

As soon as we arrived back at her place, in the wee hours, we unfortunately were so tired, that the "TBC" promise couldn't be fulfilled. We just undressed, I removed my makeup, and we slipped into our nighties. We spooned the whole night, with her hand over my clit for a while, and my butt up against her cunt. I always loved having her long hair cascading down around my head.

Fortunately, the next day was a Saturday. We didn't really wake up until 8 a.m. Sunlight streamed in and we lazily looked at each other with sleepy eyes. I was definitely feeling horny and made some moves. We messed around a little, holding each other close, and my boi clit was telling me it was time to take M all the way.

Then Maryanne pulled back. "Bridge, dear, I know what you want, and I want that too -- just not now."

I'd heard that refrain from too many women before.

She laughed. "Oh Bridge ..... not what you're thinking. But here's the thing. I like to play in the nighttime. All this light, I don't feel like being intimate -- know what I mean? When the light's low, that's when I'm so in the mood."

"Well, yes, I know what you mean. I hope soon?"

"Tonight," she whispered, as if someone was listening. "Tonight if you can get away from your Hungarian momma for another night."

"She no longer controls me. That's over."

"Yes!" Maryanne exclaimed, "And I have a surprise. Now, come over for dinner at seven, and we'll reconstitute you as Bridget, and .... oh, just wait."

I did dread telling Ilka about our big plan, but as we were having lunch, with me wearing a gayly decorated pinafore, along with blue ballet shoes, she was glad to have me back from the clutches of Maryanne. I told her about the lesbian bar and meeting Maryanne's old friends.

"Oh, nice, nice," she admitted. "Then you have sex at girlfriend's? Like lesbians from bar?"

"Actually, no, momma," I said. "We were very tired. But I'll tell you what. I will bring her by tomorrow, so maybe you don't feel like she's a threat to you. OK?"

I had to offer her up something to mollify her, and I felt Maryanne would have no problem doing this.

"I missed you in bed this morning," said Ilka, "and did everything myself. I missed my Bridget, who usually so nice to me."

I mentally cancelled my memory of sexually serving Ilka, and instead pleasantly thought of Maryanne's proposal.

"Next Saturday I will help you again, momma," I said. "But tonight, I will sleep with Maryanne again. I promised her."

Ilka stiffened. "I losing you, my Bridget. I am losing you; I can see this. This is awful to me."

I went over to hug her. "Momma, don't be so emotional!"

We ended up watching some TV game shows she loved, snuggling together as she liked. I could tell she was wearing one of her long corselettes underneath her skirt and sweater, and that turned me on a little. I ended up unfastening her nylons from her corset, and reaching in to play with her clit, which took me a little time to find amid her oversized pubic lips.

About the same time a contestant won $25,000 on a show, she came mightily, and then laid her head alongside mine.

"You so good, daughter. Know just what to do. Girlfriend lucky to find you, you make her happy too?"

When I arrived over at M's, I brought the cute pinafore I wore at Ilka's and Maryanne was entertained when I became "Bridge" again. "Oh, that outfit makes you look so innocent and girlish," she said.

"Kinda love it myself. It's one of the few outfits Ilka brought that I actually love to wear."

After I applied just a little makeup and lipstick, Maryanne finished preparing the meal and served a mouth-watering shrimp, tomato and rice dish along with some muffins and wine. Maryanne really loved her wine.

There we were, and M looked so sexy in a knit shift with hoop earrings and an elaborate and long necklace that came down to her bellybutton. We talked about Ilka, M's friends, M's work projects, and about returning to Jesse's some time.

When it came time for dessert (strawberry shortcake), M suddenly changed course and started to talk about sensual things. I was all ears.

"OK, here's something I haven't mentioned before. About me. About my fantasy world. What I have dreamed up to take me to the big 'O' many times. And you, you should tell me what you think. Don't make fun of me!"

"I won't unless it involves having sex with a dog."

"Oh, god, shame on you. That sounds nasty. Here's the thing. I often think about being taken against my will, you know. I'm a feminist, and yet I get excited thinking about some man or woman coming home with me and suddenly overpowering me, and tying me up against my will, and then penetrating me. I protest and cry, but inwardly it's what I secretly want and need."

"Oh."

"Are you shocked?" M asked. "I mean, I detected that you might actually want me to take that role against your pure and innocent Bridget."

We both laughed.

"It entered my mind. I like powerful women. But really, girlfriend, I do love to please women, and if you want me to take on that role, I would love to take you to a higher place."

"Oh, god, you don't know how excited that makes me. I felt kind of shy about bringing this whole thing up, but I'm glad I did."

Maryanne had bought some very sexy, silken ropes for our escapade. She had also bought me an outfit! ..... Something like the black leather, corset-like things with straps and buckles that dominatrices wear in porn. This one was made of faux leather, a little like a corselette, with a sexy bra top and a strap that passed through my crotch. I was also to wear some black fishnet hose, and believe it or not, a black Lone Ranger-style mask, only larger. I'm not kidding.

I felt like I was getting dressed for a kid's play, in a way, but squeezing into the tight outfit and the hose did manage to turn me on. I loved the way the corset pulled my waist in very tightly.

Meanwhile, Maryanne stripped down to a bra and panties.

"I'm on the pill," she advised, "so don't worry about a condom."

We turned off all the lights in the apartment, save for a tiny nightlight in her bedroom and a fully-lit bathroom.

I understood her script, and followed it with a few improvisations. She stood in the bathroom brushing her hair. I silently crept in, and when she saw me in full regalia in the mirror, she appeared shocked. I grabbed her from behind, with one hand over her mouth. She managed to struggle a little, then gave in as I forced her into her bedroom and onto her bed. I told her not to struggle; that I wouldn't hurt her as long as she cooperated.

She looked at me with theatrical fear as I positioned her into a doggie-fuck position, and carefully (but tightly) tied her wrists behind her back. Then I tied her ankles to the corners of her bed. She was breathing heavily.

"You slut," I said, "I've been watching you for weeks. You love parading around in your underwear, don't you, turning voyeurs on. You with your perfect tits and booty. You were asking for it, weren't you?

"And now I'm going to fuck you hard, really hard, to give you something to remember me by."

Maryanne whimpered, "Oh, please don't hurt me. I didn't mean to tease anyone. I mean, I didn't know anyone was watching. ..... I give you permission to fuck me, but I'm a virgin and not used to fucking at all."

"They all say that," I said cruelly. "They all claim to be a virgin! Likely story with your sexy body and boyfriends."

She managed to sound like she was crying. She really wanted to believe this scene was real.

Her head rested on a pillow as I reached out and released her bra and began to cup her nice tits, and then pinched her nipples.

"Oh, please, please, don't hurt me," she begged.

I then began to explore her cunt, a little on the aggressive side. When I reached her clit, she shuddered a little, with an "Oh!"

I unbuttoned the crotch strip from my corset, and out sprung my lovely dick, wet as hell and eager for action.

"Feel my dick," I admonished. "Feel it own you, slut."

With that, I began smoothing the tip of my member all around her vulva, which was getting wetter by the minute. She was again breathing heavily. I penetrated about an inch into her, and with my hand, moved the head of my cock around within her vagina. Then, it was like she involuntarily pushed her butt back, bringing my rod further inside.

"That's right, baby, take my cob deep. You want it deep, don't you? You need my cob, you need it deep."

With that, I no longer could remain in a slow mode. I began to thrust, picking up speed as I went, but still not wanting to hurt her, as she continued to push back in tandem with me. I leaned over to pinch her nipple again, and that's all it took. She literally exploded, and tried to contain a shriek, but it came out anyway and a few seconds later my fountain gushed inside her and I was moaning.

That is how Maryanne and I consummated our relationship, with a horny Lone Ranger fucking Little Bo Peep. This was only the beginning of a long sexual relationship where we explored our deepest fantasies and needs and played out our lesbian roles to the hilt.

I ended up moving in with my lovely M while slowly extricating myself from Ilka. But I must always thank my "momma" for slowly bringing about my transformation into Bridget.

With M's help I found a rather mundane job doing all the food ordering for dorm meals on the university campus where she worked, and eventually I rose to plan all the menus, becoming a sort of administrative chef. The university pays well.

I can't forget mentioning that I transitioned completely to Bridget before my hire, and was living fully as a woman. I passed well enough, with the help of a few low-dose hormones, to be treated as a woman by my co-workers. I was happier now, and could put the days of being a failed short-order cook behind me.

The culmination of M's and my relationship happened when we were officially married outdoors in a country setting, and my longtime fantasy of wearing a wedding dress was fulfilled! Maryanne wore a tux. All her friends and the few that I have made it a very special occasion.

I do so enjoy life with her, and never get over the thrill of living as a woman. We now live in a house of our own. But now there is just one little development.

Maryanne wants to have a child or two.

(The end.)